“Thank you,” Gayle replied carefully.

“I mean, it’s hard to fathom the arrogance,” Jessie said, warming up. “I don’t want to project my situation onto your own. But in both cases, we’re talking about narcissistic men who think they’re entitled to everything. Your husband believes he’s entitled to have the voters’ forgiveness. He believes he should be able to maintain his marriage to you and have a relationship with some young sex toy. He thinks that you and your children should just accept his bad judgment and move on, without any consequences.”

“What the hell…?” Milton tried to interject but Jessie rolled right over him.

“I’ll bet it never even occurred to him how you might feel,” she continued. “That you might feel shame at being treated so poorly by your own husband. That you might feel anger at this young woman who blew up your seemingly happy life. And most of all, the constant frustration you must feel at knowing your life isn’t as happy as it seems from the outside.”

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Gayle said, though her eyes suggested otherwise.

“Oh, come on, Gayle. As long as we’re laying it all out on the table, let’s be honest about this as well. Milton’s not the only one who deserves some passion in his life, right? You’re entitled to feel those things again too. And if he can’t provide it, I bet part of you thought maybe you should divorce his sorry ass and find someone who can appreciate all the effort you’ve put into looking the way you look for him. You can’t tell me it never occurred to you.”

Gayle was silent, her jaw muscles tight.

“Gayle,” Milton said indignantly. “Tell this woman that her insinuations are insulting.”

Jessie ignored him and looked deep into Gayle’s eyes. She saw the pain and the resentment there and she knew it was time.

“You could have divorced this sorry excuse for a man, Gayle,” she said softly, almost in a whisper. “But you went a different way, didn’t you?”

“Excuse me?” Gayle said, uncrossing and recrossing her legs, making the kimono swish slightly.

“I mean, when you confronted Claire, you probably thought you might end up killing her. But you didn’t expect it to go the way it did, right?”

Gayle’s mouth dropped open. Milton looked totally confused.

“What are you talking about?” he asked.

“Oh, didn’t Gayle tell you?” Jessie said, feigning surprise.

“Tell me what?”

“That she found out about your affair weeks before you admitted it.”

Milton stared at Gayle, who only gulped. Jessie pressed on.

“You really should do a better job of clearing your internet history, Milton. The site came right up when Gayle borrowed your laptop one day. You can imagine her shock when she saw how you were spending your spare time.”

“Is this true?” he demanded of his wife.

“Are you really the one who should be asking questions?” Jessie chastised him, then turned back to Gayle. “You were all ready to rip her to shreds, weren’t you, after you pretended to be your husband and sent that email asking her to meet you? But then, when you were with her in person, she wasn’t what you expected, was she?”