Free Revenge Wears Prada by Lauren Weisberger Page B

before every birthday and anniversary. She wore sweater sets, Andy. Granted, they were Prada—but still, sweater sets. She was our least favorite of all his girlfriends.”
    Andy pressed her fingertips to her forehead. Emily and Miles knew Max before she did, knew his entire dating history and had met all the girls over the years. Now, more details Andy didn’t really want to hear.
    “Glad to hear it,” Andy said, her head beginning to ache.
    “He didn’t mention it because it doesn’t matter,” Emily said. “Because he’s crazy about you. ”
    “Em, I—”
    “Head over heels in love with you, not to mention a pretty great guy, despite some poor choices in ex-girlfriends. So she was in Bermuda. Big deal. He wouldn’t cheat with her. With anyone! You know it and I know it.”
    Two days earlier Andy would’ve sworn Emily was right. Max wasn’t a Boy Scout, but Andy had fallen in love with a man who was, at heart, a genuinely good person. To even consider the alternative was almost too horrible. But she couldn’t deny that his omission freaked her out . . .
    “It’s his ex-girlfriend, Emily! His first love ! The girl he lost his virginity to. The one he supposedly didn’t marry because she wasn’t ‘challenging.’ He’s only ever said nice things about her. I can’t help but wonder if he didn’t test the waters one last time. For old times’ sake? He wouldn’t be the first guy to do something stupid at his bachelor party. Maybe a life like his father’s, with a sweet little stay-at-home wife, wouldn’t be so bad? Instead he decides he wants to rebel and he finds me? How wonderful for him.”
    “You’re being dramatic,” Emily said, but something in her voice made Andy wonder. Besides, Emily had been the first to use the word cheated. Andy hadn’t really let herself go there until her friend came right out and said it . . .
    “So what do I do now? What if he did cheat?”
    “Andy, you’re being ridiculous. Not to mention hysterical. Just talk to Max. Get the real story.”
    Andy felt her throat close. She rarely cried—when she did, it was almost always out of stress and not genuine sadness—but her eyes filled with tears. “I know. I just can’t believe this is happening. If it’s true, how could I ever forgive him? For all I know, he’s in love with her! I thought we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, and now—”
    “Andy! Just talk to him,” Emily said. “Stop with the waterworks for now and talk to him, okay? I’ll be in late today, I have a breakfast meeting with the Kate Spade people. But I’ll be on my cell . . .”
    Andy knew she had to compose herself before her coworkers arrived. She took a deep, shuddering breath and promised she’d ask Max, although she knew she was going to put it off as long as possible. Suddenly, she couldn’t help but entertain the darkest questions: Who would move out of the apartment? Why, she would, of course—it was Max’s family money that had bought it in the first place. Who would keep Stanley, their Maltese? What would she tell people? Acquaintances? Her parents? Max’s sister?How would they go from being best friends who lived together, slept together, supported each other’s dreams and aspirations, to total strangers? They had intertwined their lives together, their home and families and work and schedules, their plans for the future, the magazine. Everything. How could she survive losing him? She loved him.
    As though he could sense something forty blocks away, an e-mail from Max pinged in her inbox.
    Dear Wife,
    I hope your early departure this morning means you’re feeling better? I missed our morning together. Can’t stop thinking about our amazing weekend and hope you’re still smiling, too. I’ve gotten a hundred e-mails from people saying they had a great time. I’m in meetings until two, but I’ll call you then to talk plans for tonight. I want you there, but only if you’re up for it.