Four Wives Read Online Free

stay-at-home mommy, she had signed a lease for office space in town.
    On some days, it actually made her crazy life in Hunting Ridge tolerable. Up at six, get the girls ready for school’breakfast, lunchboxes, homework, notes for field trips and play dates. Shower and dress, organize the papers she’d brought home and worked on late into the night. Then clean up after her husband who, after staying out late at the club, would sleepwalk through the morning, leaving out the cereal boxes and milk, throwing his dirty shirts on the floor near, but God forbid inside, the laundry room. Then to the office, sorting through her work, making out the assignments for her small staff’the two associates whose part-time schedules looked like a small jigsaw puzzle. There wasn’t much that got pitched her way that she couldn’t hit out of the park. Marie Passeti was the very embodiment of efficiency.
    That it had begun to belittle her husband, to shine an even brighter light on his domestic failings of late, was a consequence that could not be helped. Anthony Passeti was perfectly capable of dressing his children and putting away his cereal boxes. He’d done it for years, supporting her career, sharing the responsibilities at home. Then, one small task at a time, he had removed himself from the invisible chore chart Marie kept in her head. And one task at a time, Marie had picked up the slack. It wasn’t the only change that had taken place right under her nose. Not long ago, her husband had been fully present in their lives, doting on the girls every weekend, finding creative ways to please his wife’the occasional breakfast in bed, spontaneous dinner plans in the city. And when their second child had put a damper on their sex life, the reserved corporate attorney had surprised her with a series of Internet orders’small packages that arrived in the mail, discreetly wrapped in plain brown paper.
Hardware for the hard up,
he’d joked. And although most of it wound up in the bottom of Marie’s underwear drawer, it had returned a sense of mischief to their lives, a flavor that had since been diluted by Hunting Ridge vanilla.
    Years had passed since she’d received a plain brown package. Now, all that came in the mail were bills and golf magazines. And while it amused her on some level that her husband had become so fond of sticks and balls, it wasn’t exactly her idea of foreplay. Still, despite his downslide, Anthony Passeti was a brilliant man, and on the days she didn’t hate him, Marie could still see traces of the man she loved so deeply.
    She slid closer beside him and curled up next to the rising gut. She was an infrequent visitor to his side of the bed, and she remembered now how much warmer it was than her side where her slight body barely made an indentation. Carefully, she pulled her pillow next to his and dropped her head upon it, closing her eyes. It was important that he not wake. She was angry at him again, a far too ordinary state of affairs in their house, and snuggling would definitely be a sign of contrition. She heard him snore twice, then shift to the left.
Good.
He was out, which meant she would still have denia-bility in the morning.
Sorry, must have rolled over in the night.
She let out a deep breath and felt sleep return as she lay beside her long-lost husband.

FIVE

DREAMS
    D REAMS TORMENTED JANIE THROUGHOUT the night.
Waking to find two men in her bed, struggling for an explanation. Running after a stack of papers that had been blown from her hands. The feel of his rough beard on her inner thigh.
    She slept in short segments, dreaming then waking, dreaming again. Each dream brought a new dose of panic or relief, tossing her back and forth like a rag doll. The sun peeking through the bedroom curtains should have been welcome, but she knew from the sickness in her stomach that the anxiety would only intensify as she moved through her day.
    Daniel was still asleep next to her when she heard a noise from