It was the first answer either of them had given me that morning which sounded entirely honest. I stood up, unwilling to give the conversation an ending that could be mistaken for friendship. I asked her to send any business documents that referenced my studio to our professional address, not to me privately, and told her she should consider speaking to her own lawyer about what had happened at work. I made no promise to protect her from consequences or to punish Julian on her behalf.
Sofia stood, too. "Clara, I really am sorry about the wedding. I know I can't make that right."
"No," I said. "You can't."
I walked away before she could add anything. At the edge of the beach, where the resort path turned beneath a stand of palms, I stopped and held onto a wooden post until the shaking in my legs passed. I had thought I was prepared to discover an affair because I had suspected one. I was wrong. Suspicion lets you hold more than one possible life in your head; a confession closes all the doors but one.
I returned to the villa and removed my wedding ring. I placed it in the small velvet pouch that had held my earrings for the ceremony and folded the pouch into the zippered compartment of my suitcase. The mark on my finger remained, a pale circle against skin darkened by the island sun. I looked at it for a long time before sitting down to call Nina.
She answered before the second ring. I told her what Sofia had admitted, keeping my voice steady until I reached the detail that the affair had started in December. Then my throat closed. Nina said nothing for several seconds, long enough to let me cry without requiring me to be understandable.
"You don't have to solve the marriage today," she said when I could hear again. "But we can protect the studio today. Nora is available this afternoon, and I can send you everything we've gathered."
"I'm scared," I admitted. "Not just of losing Julian. I'm scared that I have no idea who I married."
"You know one important thing about him now," Nina answered. "He thought your voice would be easier to override than Sofia's suitcase would be to explain. That doesn't tell you everything about his life, but it's enough to stop handing him decisions that belong to you."
I looked out at the sea. A group of guests were practicing sailing with an instructor, their small white boats leaning toward the wind and then straightening again. I had come to the island hoping marriage would give my life direction. Now I was learning that direction was something I would have to choose even when the person I loved was pulling a different way.
By Wednesday evening, I had spoken with Nora Valdez. She made no promises about quick legal remedies, and her refusal to offer dramatic certainty steadied me. We discussed my premarital ownership of the studio, the separate accounts, the joint wedding fund and the fact that I had not signed any guarantee of my husband's business obligations. She explained that ending a legal marriage would require a formal process and that an annulment was not something I could assume was available merely because the betrayal happened quickly.