An Ideal Wife Read Online Free

not be able to cook, but you’re loaded, remember. So buy him takeout,” Helen said immediately.
    “That’s not the same. It’s about making an effort. I don’t even iron his shirts.”
    “No, and you also don’t live in the 1950s,” Helen said, rolling her eyes. “Ever heard of having a cleaner? Or using the laundry service? Ever heard of women’s emancipation?”
    “I know. And it’s not that I want to be forced into doing those things. I’d just … you know, like to be able to. Sometimes.”
    “So learn,” Helen said wearily. “But you know this isn’t really to do with home economics, don’t you?”
    “I know,” I said, biting my lip. “So what do I do about Hugh? He’s going to keep coming back. I know he is.”
    Helen nodded uncertainly. “Yeah. But don’t rush into anything. Do you remember what happened when Max thought for a second that you’d cheated on him?”
    I shivered. It had been horrible. A month or so before Max and I were due to get married, he started to be very evasive, and then I discovered that he’d been seeing a woman. A really attractive one. Anyway, I put two and two together, got five, and drowned my sorrows in a bar. And that’s when Hugh Barter turned up.
    Hugh used to work for Max and had moved to a rival firm; he was a terrible person, a scheming, self-serving schmoozeball. The night I met him in the bar, though, I was drunk and not thinking straight, and when he invited me to come back to his place, I agreed.
    But the attractive lady hadn’t been Max’s bit on the side; she was my presumed-dead mother, come back to find me. And before I knew it, Hugh had blackmailed me and brought Milton Advertising to its knees, stealing Chester’s business and sending Max into a total meltdown.
    There was an awful minute when I’d told Max the truth. I would never forget the look in his eye, the look of total devastation that left him only when Mum rushed in and told him that I’dbeen trying to protect her, that it was actually she who’d slept with Hugh, who’d kissed and told, drunkenly revealing company secrets. The look of relief on his face when she said that had haunted me every time I’d been tempted to come clean. I knew I’d never be able to forgive myself for what I’d done, and neither would Max, if he knew the truth—even though it turned out I’d only kissed Hugh, even though it turned out he was gay and had planned the whole thing to get at Max.
    “So, what, I just spend my life on tenterhooks, waiting for Hugh to demand anything he wants?” I asked miserably. “One way or another, Max is going to discover the truth: That I let him down. That I’m a terrible wife.”
    “No, you’re not. It was one indiscretion at a weak moment. And, anyway, technically speaking, you were a bad
fiancée,”
Helen pointed out. “You haven’t done anything bad since being his
wife.”
    I raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure it works like that, Hel.”
    “Sure it does,” she said breezily. “Anyway, perfection is overrated. Everyone’s got skeletons in their cupboards.”
    “Max doesn’t,” I said miserably.
    Helen looked at me sternly. “I’m sure he does. And even if he doesn’t, you can’t let this Hugh thing take up more head space than it deserves. Max doesn’t need to know. No good will come of telling him. So don’t. And stop beating yourself up about it.”
    “Easy for you to say,” I complained.
    “Do you think telling him will make anything better?” Helen demanded. I shook my head. “Then, can we move on? Can I continue telling you about John?”
    “Yes,” I said firmly. “Yes, please continue. So he said he was busy over the weekend?”
    Helen nodded. “All weekend. I mean, that’s weird, right? No one works all weekend.”
    She caught my eye and reddened slightly. “Other than you and Max,” she said quickly. It had been over working weekends thatI’d fallen in love with Max; we were both workaholics, both pretty uninterested