The First Wives Club by Olivia Goldsmith Read Free Book Online Page B

again.
    And there was Carla’s coma. Once again, it was a choice. And once again, against every instinct, I chose him.
    And when he had taken everything—my family name, my money, my contacts, my children—he then began that disgusting public affair with the Birmingham woman. It was even in the business magazines, and I heard about every tiny thing from one “friend” or another. I begged Gil not to leave me, but of course he did.
    Perhaps you think that a child’s death and a husband’s betrayal aren’t enough reasons to take my own life, but I simply can’t bear another day. We only have one life, and I did mine all wrong. Weak and stupid to the end, I simply can’t take the pain any longer.
    I CHOSE HIM, ANNIE. I WAS SELFISH AND STUPID AND MUST PA Y FOR MY MISTAKE. I killed my baby for him, I ruined my father for him, I gave myself for him, and now there is nothing left. It is too awful to go on this way. Godforgive me.
    I’m sorry.
    The letter ended there. Cynthia had not even signed it. ‘Oh, my God.”
    Annie had spoken out loud.
    She laid her head forward onto her chest. Her hands were cold, and they trembled, shaking the letter she held. She walked to the window and looked out at the gray velvet clouds against the darkening sky.
    She was dizzy again, nauseous, and for a moment she was afraid she might vomit.
    Gil was a monster. Here were all his dirty little secrets. He had killed Cynthia. A day at a time, Annie now knew, Gil had killed Cynthia.
    In all their years of friendship, Cynthia had never breathed a word of this.
    And Annie had never imagined it.
    Then she thought of Gil’s call. He had tricked her and used her, too, just as he had Cynthia. She had already helped him make the funeral today look okay.
    She had fallen for it, too. He had made her a fool, when all she wanted was to do one last kindness for Cynthia.
    Annie felt she couldn’t bear the weight of Gil’s brutality alone. She had to show someone this letter. No more secrets, damn it, she thought. She felt nausea wash over her again, followed by a chill.
    How alone Cynthia had been.
    Annie’s chest tightened. It was unbearable.
    We are a generation of masochists, she thought. Brenda, Cynthia, me, Elise.
    What a pathetic bunch of losers we are. Anger suddenly surged through her, momentarily overwhelming the sadness. I’m sick of it, she said to herself.
    Sick of being a lady and a mother and a good girl. Stupid, passive.
    It’s got to stop.
    I could wring Gil’s neck with my bare hands, she thought, gritting her teeth.
    He robbed Cynthia of everything, her child, her money, her family, her dignity. He beat her, and all he left her with was shame. And the shame killed her. Gil killed her.
    Brenda, too. Morty tricked her, shamed her, and she fell for it. She built his business, then he threw her out, cheating her of her rightful share in the bargain. Brenda’s behind on her maintenance payments at her co-op and is dunned in the elevator by her neighbors. What humiliation! He’s late with his alimony payments month after month, so she winds up begging for what is rightfully hers.
    Even Elise, who looks so cool, so powerful, so immune. She’s been brought low by an empty suit like Bill Atchison. He shouldn’t get away with humiliating Elise, flaunting his affairs. There isn’t a person in Greenwich who doesn’t know that Bill chases every secretary and maid he comes across. Elise is a beautiful, talented woman, but Bill hardly ever seems to notice or to care.
    But she, like Brenda, just accepts whatever crumbs are thrown her way.
    And not just them, Annie, she told herself. Be honest for a change.
    Aaron left you and his daughter. He abandoned you, left you alone to care for Sylvie, as if his responsibility ended when he moved out. All right, maybe he wasn’t as bad as the others, he wasn’t a monster, or a lech, he didn’t beat you, but he’s treated you badly. Admit it. He said he loved you, but he left when things got