Page 5 of The Liar I Married
FOUR
Since confiding in Michael, the days blur together, and each one fills with a growing sense of uncertainty.
The frequency of John’s late nights and vague excuses have increased.
Heartbreaking certainty has replaced my suspicions.
I can’t ignore the fact that something is wrong with our relationship.
I need to know if he is having an affair.
After dropping the girls at school, I’ve taken to driving by the building where John works.
I park and walk into the exclusive Velvet Bean Café, a place I know he frequents for lunch, and sit and wait, passing my time nibbling on various pastries and drinking too much coffee.
I never see him, not once and wonder what the hell I’m doing stalking my husband like some crazy person.
I haven’t seen or spoken to Michael for weeks and when my phone chimes, seeing his name on the caller ID surprises me. “Hey stranger, how are you?”
“Jessie, I saw John today .” Michael’s voice is low and urgent. “ He was having lunch with a woman at that new bistro downtown.”
My heart skips a beat and then thunders in my chest. “Did you recognize her?”
“I’m not sure—maybe, but they seemed…close. It could be his lawyer, the new one, Rebecca Lawson.” He clears his throat. “It might have been innocent but I thought you should know.”
As I didn’t know John had engaged a new lawyer, the information is gold. “How do you know her? I wasn’t aware he had a new lawyer?” I walk around my immaculate family room, straightening photographs and picking up ornaments, not purchased for any other reason than they fit with the décor.
“She is a corporate lawyer and works with the firm.” Michael keeps his voice low. “I only know her by sight, she’s a looker. Blonde, all legs, she’s hard to miss. It wouldn’t be the first time, would it?”
I swallow bile as memories flood into my mind and make my stomach clench so hard I want to spew.
I want to forget anything ever happened and that our marriage has always been perfect but during those early years, John was an arrogant ass.
I shake my head. I can’t deny it. I’d cried on Michael’s shoulder too often at the time.
I look at my wedding photo at the smiles and happiness we shared and sigh.
“No, but that was years ago. He was young and it took him time to adjust into being married.”
“You always make excuses for him.” Michael blows out a long breath. “He doesn’t deserve your loyalty.”
My heart drops to the floor as a memory slides into my mind of being left alone at a party when I was eight months pregnant.
I sat watching as my husband danced with another woman.
The way he looked at her, got drinks for her, and hit on her in front of all our friends left a wound that will never heal. That night he didn’t know I existed.
Those early days often involved other women.
The one that haunts me is when he became close to a friend of mine, Daphne.
We spent some happy times with her and her husband, Brad.
They’d been trying to have a baby for five years and then, out of the blue, John started to take morning runs and would end up at her place.
He openly told me about having breakfast with her and how she’d always butter his toast to the edges for him as if not doing so was a crime.
I laughed it off but soon things changed dramatically.
It wasn’t long after I had the twins when I discovered she was pregnant.
Soon after that, Daphne split with her husband and moved to a nice home in the next block.
John was around there all the time, helping her change lightbulbs or whatever, and who do you figure was at the hospital when she had the baby? —John.
At the time, he suddenly didn’t care about work and spent all his time with her, saying she needed him because Brad had left her.
When I’d complain he’d shake his head and glare at me as if I’d become a monster.
He insisted that Daphne was our friend and I was being possessive.
The problem was, he spent more time with her than he did with me and the twins.
I needed his support and felt ugly, tired, and lonely.
His rejection confused me. I became depressed and wasn’t coping with two demanding babies but he convinced me I was suffering from postpartum depression.
Was he being a good friend as he claimed, or was the baby his?
My world came tumbling down when Daphne named the baby Renee.
The name was the one John wanted for one of our twins and I’d rejected it, because it was the name of a bully at my school.
Could the name Daphne had chosen been a coincidence?
Tired and angry, I asked him if the baby was his and he denied it, saying he was only being a good friend.
After that, he got angry if I ever brought up the subject, so I’ve just lived with the uncertainty.
For me, the moment I saw the blue-eyed baby, the friendship with Daphne was over.
Renee could have been one of my girls; the fact she was John’s child was blatantly obvious.
The next moment, without a word, she moved away.
A few years later, I ran into her at the store and I came right out and asked the question. Do you know what her answer was?
“What does John say?”
What kind of answer is that? I walked away, dumbfounded, and now, with all that’s happening, I ask myself, was I paranoid then too, because if I put the same question to any of my other friends now, will they react in a different way?
Will they be shocked or at least deny it?
All I can remember is the smirk on her face, like the cat that had gotten the cream.
That was over five years ago and although a few of my acquaintances have tried to take him from me, he has, I believe, remained faithful, in body anyway—until now.
“Are you still there, Jessie?” Michael sounds anxious.
I stare at the picture of us at Christmas around the tree. We look so happy and I swallow hard. “If he doesn’t want me anymore, why is he still living here?”
“Divorce wouldn’t go down well with the company, especially on the grounds of infidelity.
” Michael pauses for a beat. “It makes him look untrustworthy. You’re a safe haven.
The virtuous wife from an old money family; makes his clients respect and trust him.
” He sighs. “Look, Jessie, having lunch with the company lawyer doesn’t mean he’s having an affair.
It might mean he’s so busy it’s the only time he had spare.
This is why I’m not marrying for at least ten years.
This job isn’t really conducive to a good marriage.
It’s long hours to get results. I’ll keep an eye on him, but I’ll need to be careful, my job could be on the line if he finds out I’ve been snooping. ”
“Thank you, Michael. Maybe I’m making too much out of all this.” I chew on my bottom lip. “He does work hard and I knew it would be tougher this year since his promotion. I’m just lonely. Maybe I need to get a hobby?”
“That’s my girl.” Michael chuckles. “I saw a flyer about art classes just yesterday in the window of the convenience store. You like art.”
I brighten my attitude; sounding like a death knell won’t get me anywhere. “I’ll look into it. Now get back to work or you’ll be fired.”
After hanging up, a mix of gratitude and dread surrounds me.
I open my laptop and search for Rebecca Lawson.
In seconds my page fills with images of a remarkably beautiful, confident, poised woman.
She has a social media page, and when I open it, it’s public, with images of her with congressmen, the mayor, and other dignitaries at various functions.
I scan the images and my throat tightens as if I had a noose around my neck.
She’s at a function wearing a tight black dress, stilettoes and holding a glass of champagne, and standing right beside her in his tux, blue eyes dancing with amusement and his lips spread in a wide smile, is John.
I scroll through the files and find more images of them together.
Pain stabs at my heart. Indecision grips me and suddenly my beautiful home means nothing to me.
It’s an empty shell with all the happiness drained out.