The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo

by Taylor Jenkins Reid

People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth. When you realize you can tell someone your truth, when you can show yourself to them, when you stand in front of them bare and their response is “You’re safe with me”—that’s intimacy.

My Dearest CeCe, Please never forget that the sun rises and sets with your smile. At least to me it does. You’re the only thing on this planet worth worshipping. All my love, Edward

You do not know how fast you have been running, how hard you have been working, how truly exhausted you are, until someone stands behind you and says, “It’s OK, you can fall down now. I’ll catch you.” So I fell down. And Harry caught me.

You should know this about the rich: they always want to get richer. It is never boring, getting your hands on more money. When I was a child, trying to find something to eat for dinner besides the old rice and dry beans in the kitchen, I would tell myself that if I could just have a good meal every night, I’d be happy. When I was at Sunset Studios, I told myself all I wanted was a mansion. When I got the mansion, I told myself all I wanted was two houses and a team of help. Here I was, just turned twenty-five, already realizing that no amount would ever really be enough.

You, of all people, should know that you can’t tell a single thing about a person’s true character if you both want the same thing. That’s like a dog and a cat getting along because they both want to kill the mouse.”

“But you were using your sexuality to get things from men that Celia couldn’t give you.” Evelyn shakes her head even more emphatically. “There’s a difference between sexuality and sex. I used sex to get what I wanted. Sex is just an act. Sexuality is a sincere expression of desire and pleasure. That I always kept for Celia.”

“Will you marry me?” I said. She laughed, and I stopped her. “I’m not kidding! I want to marry you. For once and for all. Don’t I deserve that? Seven marriages in, shouldn’t I finally get to marry the love of my life?” “I don’t think it works that way, sweetheart,” she said. “And need I remind you, I’d be stealing my brother’s wife.” “I’m serious, Celia.” “So am I, Evelyn. There’s no way for us to marry.” “All a marriage is is a promise.” “If you say so,” she said. “You’re the expert.” “Let’s get married right here and now. Me and you. In this bed. You don’t even have to put on a white nightgown.” “What are you talking about?” “I’m talking about a spiritual promise, between the two of us, for the rest of our lives.” When Celia didn’t say anything, I knew that she was thinking about it. She was thinking about whether it could mean anything, the two of us there in that bed. “Here’s what we will do,” I said, trying to convince her. “We will look each other in the eye, and we will hold hands, and we will say what’s in our hearts, and we will promise to be there for each other. We don’t need any government documents or witnesses or religious approval. It doesn’t matter that I’m already legally married, because we both know that when I was marrying Robert, I was doing it to be with you. We don’t need anybody else’s rules. We just need each other.” She was quiet. She sighed. And then she said, “OK. I’m in.” “Really?” I was surprised at just how meaningful this moment was becoming...

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