Page 27 of The Liar I Married

TWENTY-FOUR

The last couple of weeks have been brutal.

John believes I’m losing my mind. He considers my concerns about my father ridiculous and a manifestation of an overactive imagination.

He just can’t understand why I need to spend time with him.

His main focus is on his work, and his ambition to rise to the top of his profession is more important than anything.

He’ll allow nothing to stand in his way—including me.

He spends more and more time away from home now and last week I moved my things into the spare room.

I just can’t stand feeling the empty space beside me in bed night after night.

The last time he came home he didn’t even seem to notice I wasn’t there.

We’ve missed a few of the local celebrations, and people are starting to talk, so I avoid the tennis club and the nosy so-called friends, who spy into every detail of my marriage.

The only place I find respite is at the art studio.

I’ve slowly been replacing the pictures the decorator placed on our walls with some of my own.

Each of them holds a special memory, a tiny glimpse into a time when I was laughing and without a worry in the world.

Alex is a good friend and someone who wants nothing more from me than a smile.

I’ve read a few of his books and find them fascinating, much like the man himself.

My private investigator has given me all the details I require to visit Andrea Long.

I know everything about her now. She is much younger than I imagined and the poor woman must have had her daughter very young.

This knowledge frightens me. Why is my father involved with her?

Was she underage when she had her child?

The entire scenario makes me hesitant to look deeper into the situation.

If the child isn’t my father’s as he professes, then who is the father?

I take out my grandmother’s letter and read it again.

I scan the pages of her diary, searching for clues.

Why would my father hide this secret if he wasn’t involved?

I don’t have any uncles or any other close family members apart from Michael.

I rub my hands over my face. I’ve seen Michael’s girlfriends.

Even at college, he set his sights on older women.

I recall my father lecturing him in the study, when he insisted on dating a divorcee.

I couldn’t imagine him being involved with an underage girl.

I pick up the documents the private investigator sent me and I check the date of birth of the child.

She was born the year after I married John.

I press my fist into my mouth to stop myself screaming.

No wonder my father has kept this information from everyone.

He was protecting me from the terrible truth.

There is only one logical conclusion—the child belongs to John.

I can’t keep this to myself any longer. I call Michael and insist he comes by right away.

I pace up and down the family room, waiting for him to arrive.

On the kitchen table I’ve laid out all the damning information.

Will he come to the same conclusion as I have?

When he arrives, we sit at the table with steaming cups of coffee before us.

The subject is so delicate I’ve been considering exactly what to say but when the time comes it’s difficult to get the words out.

“You know what John’s been like since we married?

At first, I believed he still considered himself to be single.

The way he acted toward me wasn’t like a husband proud of his new wife.

I was more like a friend that he could leave in the corner when he got bored with me.

I talked to Mom about it and she said that young men all go through a period of adjustment.

Until recently, I believed that was the case, but after seeing John with Ms. Lawson, I realize he’s never been that attentive to me.

It’s as if I’ve become a habit, or the person he married to make himself look good.

My family name could enhance his career.

Now he has everything he wants, I’ve become redundant. ”

“I’ve never heard him say a bad word about you, Jessie.

” Michael leans back in his chair, regarding me closely.

“Although, I won’t lie to you, I do admit he’s very attentive to Ms. Lawson.

I would say they are very close friends.

I don’t believe it would be in your best interest to come between them. ”

My gut clenches as if he’s spoken all my fears. “Yes, well, I tried that and now he very rarely comes home. Do you know where he stays?”

“I believe he stays in his apartment in Manhattan.” Michael turns his coffee cup around with the tips of his fingers. “You knew about that, right?”

I shake my head, and my stomach slips to my boots.

“No, I didn’t know. He doesn’t tell me anything.

” I wave my hand toward the pile of documents on the table.

“As you know, I was at Grandma’s bedside when she died.

She couldn’t speak but we communicated and she intimated Dad had a secret that involved me.

Over these last few months I’ve been trying to discover what’s going on.

Grandma left me a letter with Mr. Collins, written the day she died.

It involves a young woman and child that Dad has been providing for.

It’s been going on for about seven years. ”

“What are you talking about?” Michael’s eyebrows rise to his hairline.

I hold up a hand to hush him. “The day I dropped by your office with Alex, I confronted Dad about the woman and child. He went ballistic and told me to mind my own business. The thing is, Michael, I’m starting to believe that Dad has been covering up for John and that’s what Grandma discovered.”

“You’ve gone too far this time, Jessie.” Michael picks up the documents and tosses them into the trash.

“Dad’s right, whatever this is about it’s none of your business.

” He sighs. “This obsession with Grandma’s letter and Dad’s secrets is consuming you.

You’re never home. You spend all your time at the art studio with Alex.

Think about it? Is this the reason John isn’t coming home? ”

Shocked by his reaction, I stare at him in disbelief.

I’m at home all the time the girls are out of school and his comment stings.

Angry, I slam a hand on the table. “You figure this is my fault? I’m not the one that’s been keeping secrets for years.

Look at the documents, they prove Grandma was right. ”

“Do they? Look, Jessie, you’ve been through a lot lately and I know how close you were to Grandma.

Stress can cloud your judgment.” Michael rubs the back of his neck.

“Think about it: you’re gathering scraps of information and jumping to conclusions.

How do you figure this looks? How do you believe the family will react?

Everyone’s worried about you, Jessie. Since Grandma died you haven’t been the same. ”

I grip my coffee cup as doubt creeps in. “I trusted you and you’re trying to make me look crazy.”

“Oh Jessie, I’m just trying to help you.” Michael comes around my side of the table and puts an arm around my shoulders. “Being with Grandma when she died was very traumatic. Speak to John and tell him what’s happened. If not, I have a great therapist you can see if you decide to speak to someone.”

I grip my cup so tight my fingers turn white.

“No. I can’t let this go. I made Grandma a promise.

It’s pointless talking to John. If he’s involved, he’s hardly going to admit it, is he?

He knows if it gets out, it will ruin him.

That’s not my intention. I just want the truth.

As his wife, he owes me that.” I turn to look at him.

“You need to pick a side. Either you’re with me or against me. ”

“Okay, but promise me you’ll be careful.” Michael blows out a long sigh. “Digging up the past can lead to more pain than answers.”