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ruin your vacation with Tristan.”
    “You won’t. I feel relaxed.”
    “What we’ll tell you won’t let you relax, Danielle. It’s going to make you mad. It made us mad.”
    Her head began spinning, wondering what they knew. “Let me be the judge of that. I’m a big girl. Finding out that Marc was sterile came as a big blow. I’m thirty. Your biological clock hasn’t started ticking. Mine has. I hear it every day.”
    “But you have Tristan,” Alex said.
    Danielle felt her heart stir a little. Yes, she had Tristan, but not in the way they thought. And she knew it would be a waste of time trying to convince them of it yet again. She and Tristan were best friends, nothing more.
    Still, she couldn’t help but think of a little girl with Tristan’s dimpled smile. She suddenly closed her eyes, as if to blink away the image, and felt annoyed with herself. How could she think such a thing? Then again, she knew Tristan was a giver. He would give her a baby if she asked him….
    She felt the pulse beat erratically in her throat. No, she couldn’t do that. Tristan had given her too much of himself already. She couldn’t—she wouldn’t—ask him for more. It wouldn’t be fair.
    “Yes, I have Tristan,” she said, although she knew their meaning of that was different from hers. “Now tell me what the two of you have found out.”
    “You tell her, Renée,” Alex said.
    “Okay, but Chris won’t like me telling you, although I think he’ll actually be relieved, since he wouldn’t know how to tell you himself. He had a hard time telling me, and I’m sure Hunter had a hard time telling Alex.”
    Danielle felt like pulling her hair out. “Tell me what?”
    “Just what Chris found at Marc’s apartment and why he thinks there’s another woman, a fourth woman.”
    Danielle’s throat tightened again. “What did he find?”
    Renée hesitated a moment before continuing. “The apartment was spacious and it had four bedrooms. A bedroom for each of us.”
    Danielle felt her skin crawl and tried to subdue the feeling. “What do you mean?”
    “What she means is this,” Alex said, taking up the story. “We each had our own room and they were furnished with each of us in mind. Decorated in our favorite colors and on the dressers were our favorite perfume, bath oil and even a listing of our favorite foods and hobbies. In the closets were items of our clothing he had obviously collected along the way. And in the bathroom were bathrobes with each of our names embroidered on them. Each room, according to what Chris told Hunter, was a shrine to each of us.”
    Danielle didn’t say anything, mainly because she didn’t know what to say. To be quite honest, she doubted she could find her voice to speak, considering how taken aback she felt by what Alex and Renée had just shared. She couldn’t help but wonder how a man could marry three women, three different types of women, and then establish rooms under one roof for all of them. What kind of mentality would do such a thing? A question suddenly formed in her mind.
    “What about the fourth room? The one belonging to the other woman?” she heard herself asking.
    “It wasn’t complete. There were several things missing in hers that we had in ours,” Renée said. “That’s why Chris thinks he hadn’t married her yet. Your room, Danielle, according to Chris, was more furnished than mine, and mine had more stuff in it than Alex’s. It seemed he was still collecting items for the fourth woman. No items of clothing, no personal effects. He had collected a few menus from restaurants the two of them must have gone to together, but Chris won’t tell me what those places are or where they are.”
    Danielle heard what Renée was saying. And she knew that now, more so than ever, she needed to find the woman to make sure she wasn’t wondering why Marc hadn’t yet come back to her.
    Danielle inhaled deeply. “Okay. I hope Chris shares more with me and Tristan when we meet