Come Alive (22 page)

“Everything. Wouldn’t you want to know?”

“I guess. I don’t know. Maybe not.” I shuddered,
and she took my hand.

“He
won’t
leave you. It’s not like him. Don’t worry. It will be hard, but you guys will
make it through this.”

“I hurt him so much. But it was as if I couldn’t
help myself. David has this incredible power over me. When I’m with him,
nothing else matters. And I just forget him? Yes, I hurt Bill, but that is not what’s
breaking me.”

“Shit,” she said, massaging between her brows. “It’s
not Bill you’re upset over.”

I shook my head hard. “I really am so distraught
over what I did. Of course I feel awful. You have to believe me. But losing
David feels . . . physical. It’s like somebody is squeezing my insides.”

“This is bad,” she whispered. “Are you thinking
about leaving Bill for David?”

My chin quivered.

“Honey, if you need to cry – ”

“David and I had a fight,” I interrupted. “He
did something . . . vile.”

“More vile than the ball?”

I nodded and took a deep breath. “He bought the
Oak Park house.”

Her head tilted to the side, and I waited until
understanding dawned on her face. “The house you and Bill tried to buy?
David
bought it?”

I confirmed with a short nod.

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. It was a good deal, he told me
himself. I guess he intends to flip it for a profit.”

“That can’t be all.”

“I agree. There has to be something else going
on. A sick fascination with slowly picking my marriage apart, I don’t know.”

“Wow. Well what did he say was the reason?”

“I ran away before he could explain. I was shocked.
And heart – ” my voice hitched, and I paused for a breath, “heartbroken.”

“Oh, honey. I am so sorry.”

“You told me so, right?”

She just shook her head. “I had no idea. I
believe you if you say it’s more than just sex.”

“It was,” I whispered. “I shared things with him
I’ve never even told Bill.” Shame, regret, sadness washed over me when I said,
“I opened up to him.”

Her mouth parted. “You’re kidding.”

“Things with him are . . . different.”

“That’s shocking. And exciting. I’ve never heard
you talk like this about Bill.”

“Bill has still never asked me about my scar. He
doesn’t know about the hospital or what my mom did.”

“You’d think as a lawyer he would pay more attention
to the details,” she said with a small smile.

“He knows it’s there. It’s small, but it’s not
invisible. He just doesn’t know how to talk about it. It means opening up a
whole Pandora’s box of complicated things.”

“But that’s what you do in a marriage. You let
him help.”

“I don’t know that deep down he really wants to
help.” I sighed and looked away. “The way he grew up, they didn’t talk about
feelings. He’s used to trivializing them away. But it’s all coming out now.”

“He’s really gotten to you, hasn’t he? David?”
she asked after some time.

“You have no idea.”

“What happens now? Do you need a place to stay?”

“I don’t know. We have a lot more to talk about
when I get home. Thank you for listening, it’s a huge load off my shoulders.”

“I can’t believe you’ve been going through all
this by yourself. It means a lot that you told me.”

“I know,” I said with a smile that could only be
described as weak.

“Now that it’s over with David, does this mean
you’re going to turn into a mega-bitch again?”

My laugh ended in a frown. “I don’t know. At
least now I don’t have to keep it inside. But how do I move forward with Bill
after what I experienced with David?”

She hesitated and lowered her voice as if
someone might be listening. “You don’t want to hear David out?”

“What could he possibly say?”

“This is just seriously blowing my mind,
Liv
. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you this passionate,
putting everything on the line for someone.”

“It’s best that we don’t see each other again. And
after this thing with the house . . . Maybe things weren’t what I thought.”

“Do you really feel that way?”

“No,” I sighed. “But it doesn’t matter. It’s
done.”

Gretchen bit her lip and nodded. “Okay,” she
said quietly. “I’ll support you no matter what.”

“No matter what?”

“Of course.”

“When Bill and I went to see Oak Park . . . I
loved the house so much and yet, when I tried to see myself there with Bill and
a family . . . Nothing.”

“Maybe it wasn’t the right house.”

I nodded, but was flooded with the visions of
David: he and I making love on the floor in front of the fire, baking in the
kitchen, covered in flour as we laughed . . . I shook my head quickly.

“Is Bill still pressuring you about kids?”

“He thinks we’re ready. I’m supposed to stop
birth control.”

She jerked her head at me. “What? I’m sorry, but
is that really a good idea, considering . .
. ?
”

“He refuses to wait any longer. Although, after
this, who knows?”

“That’s seriously fucked.”

“Maybe he’s right, though. It will take a while
for it to wear off, and maybe by then . . .”

She bit her thumbnail as she looked around the
room. “Why did you say yes when Bill proposed?”

“Just wait until someone proposes to you,” I
joked. “And he’s waiting there on his knee, and everyone is staring at you.
It’s harrowing.” I laughed sadly, but she just pressed her lips together. “I’m
teasing. I said yes because I loved him, and I had no doubt that he loved me.”

She exhaled loudly. “I think you owe it to
yourself to give this some serious thought.
Especially now
that the clock is ticking.
Even if you take David out of the equation,
it sounds like you are having doubts about Bill.”

I am
, I thought,
but I couldn’t say it.

“I will support whatever you decide,” she said.
“You are my oldest friend, and I love you.”

We hugged, and I told her I loved her too. “I
should get back. Bill is probably waiting to talk.”

She nodded. “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

I decided to spring for a cab home. Having
broken down barriers with Mack and Gretchen, I was beginning to feel more like
my normal self again. David was done. Bill knew the truth. We could all finally
move forward. The problem was, none of that made me feel better.

CHAPTER 22

THE
APARTMENT WAS DARK when I got home. I switched on the kitchen light and started.
Bill was leaning against a counter littered with empty beer bottles. “Bill?”

“Yeah.”

I
set my purse down and removed my coat, staring at him as I tried to gauge his
mood. I waited for him to speak.

“Where’ve
you been?” he asked without looking at me.

“At
Gretchen’s.”

“How
do I know that?”

I
sighed. “I don’t know. I guess you have to believe me.”

He
laughed softly and held out his hand. His eyes were red-rimmed. “Give me your
phone.”

“What?
Bill – ”

“Give
it to me.”

I
dug into my purse and handed it over. I watched as he scrolled through it. “If
you were with Gretchen, why did you call her half an hour ago?” he asked,
holding up the screen to show me the call history.

“She
thought she left her phone at work, so I called it. Ask her if you like.”

He
set the phone down. “Who is he?”

I
swallowed dryly and stared at my hands.

“Who?”
he yelled, and I jumped.

I
looked up. “David Dylan.”

He
snapped his gaze to mine. “David . . . who?
Andrew’s friend?
The architect?”

“Yes,”
I said, dropping my eyes back down.

“That
could have been our future home.”

“What?”

“Oak
Park. What if we had bought it? He would have been in our home, where our
children live, where we have dinner every night. Where we make love,” he said
through gritted teeth. “For God’s sake, what the hell were you thinking?”

“You’re
right. You are absolutely right.”

“So
everyone knows then?”

“No,”
I insisted. “Lucy and Andrew knew nothing about this.”

“But
Gretchen does.” He shook his head in reproach. “I always knew she was a bad
influence on you. I should have put a stop to that.”

“She’s
my oldest friend.”

“So
the night that he helped you with Alvarez. Was that a cover-up?”

“Nothing
happened that night.”

“I’m
supposed to believe that?”

“It
was the next night.”

His
face went blank. “Isn’t that the day
Davena
died?”

My
voice broke. “Yes.”

“Huh.
All this time I thought you were mourning. Unbelievable.”

“Of
course I was mourning
Davena
. You know how close we
were.”

“You
let me believe,” he said over me, “for almost five months, that this was
because of her death. You’re in the wrong profession, baby. You should be an
actress.”

“This
hasn’t been easy, trust me.”

“Look,
I knew when I married you that you were still dealing with shit from your
childhood, even though,” he paused, holding up his palms, “it’s been
years
. I knew that you had . . . issues
that run deep. But I’m only beginning to realize just exactly how heartless you
are.”

I
had a horrified feeling in my chest. There it was, my pedestal: teetering
underneath me, tipping . . . and falling, crashing to the ground and smashing
into a million pieces.

He
shook his head at the floor. “What did I do to deserve this? Haven’t I been
good to you?”

His
words delivered a sharp chill to my spine. “You do not deserve any of this. I
am so sorry. I made a terrible decision.”

“Decisions,”
he corrected. “When was the second time?”

I
felt my jaw working side to side nervously.

“You
said it happened twice. When was the second time?”

“When
you went fishing with Hugh.”

“That
was two weeks ago.”

I
nodded.

“I’m
assuming that was also the architect.”

My
mouth dropped open. “Of course. I’m not running around town with anyone I can
find.”

“Why
him? Why did it have to be him?”

“It
didn’t have to be anyone. It just – happened.”

“Who
initiated it?”

I
made a soft noise as I stalled, racking my brain for a response. “I guess he was
the first to vocalize it.”

“I
don’t even know what that means.”

“He
initiated it, but it was my choice in the end.”

“Did
he know you were married?”

“Yes.”

“A
real class act. I guess when you have money and looks, you think you can do
whatever the fuck you want.”

Despite
the blatant slap in the face that David had delivered only hours earlier, my
instinct was to defend him. I bit my cheek and nodded instead.

“I’m
going to make sure he knows that isn’t the case,” Bill said. “I could sue him
for this, you know.”

“Bill,
please.
I’m here
,
ready to take the
blame
. It’s not worth involving David; he knows what he did was wrong.”

“You
talk to him?”

“I
just meant that – ”

“When
was the last time you talked to him?”

“He
knows that you know. Because I told him.”

“Today.”

My
heart squeezed. This would never work if I
wasn’t
honest. “Yes. After work, before
Gretchen’s
, I stopped
by his office to tell him.”

“Did
you fuck?”

“No!”
I cried. “I just told him it was – I thought he should know.”

He
turned away to lean his elbows on the counter and massage his face.

I
edged closer to him and put my hand on his back. “It didn’t – ” I paused.
When was the time to be honest, and when was the time to lie? I struggled with
myself for a moment as I stared at his back. “It didn’t mean anything, Bill.
You and I can start fresh from here.”

“I
don’t know what to do,” he said into his hands. “How am I supposed to move on
from this?”

“I
don’t know. I wish I did. It’s something we have to do together.”

“I
think you should sleep on the couch tonight,” he said without looking at me.

“That’s
fine,” I agreed softly.

He
pushed off the counter and left the kitchen.

Later,
I pulled linens down from the hall closet. When I passed by the bedroom, I
heard him crying. I flattened one hand against the door and the other over my
heart.

I
flipped against the abrasive couch. I wondered how long it would take us to
move on from the affair – until I realized that we might not ever. It
would always remain there between us, no matter how much time passed; a permanent
mark on our life together. I had never truly grasped the irrevocability of my
betrayal until now. This would never go away.

I
wanted to regret those moments with David, but I couldn’t bring myself to.
During the months after our night in his apartment, I had chased every detail
away when it threatened. Remembering was torture.

Now,
alone in the dark, I fought to remember. Suddenly, forgetting the details
scared me. I clung to them like pieces of shattered glass so I could glue them
back together. Like the way adoration filled his eyes when he looked at me.
Chills lit over my body as I remembered the way that look would melt into lust.
I let that look warm me on the cold brown couch.

~

“Why?” Bill
asked the next night.

He’d
insisted on picking me up from work, but hadn’t spoken to me until now. I
didn’t know what time it was as he perched on the edge of the couch, rousing me
with his one-word question.
Why?

I
rubbed my eyes and examined his silhouette in the dark. I sniffed the air.
“Have you been smoking?” I asked, the words grating from my throat.

He
shifted. “Just answer the question.”

“Why
. . .” I repeated. I didn’t think I could ever explain it. Even if I
was
courageous enough to try, it would never make sense to
him. “I was attracted to him. When
Davena
died, I
felt . . . threatened. Scared. Life is so momentary. I didn’t know it at the
time, but I panicked. I was attracted to him,” I said again. “That night, he
was there.”

“And
I wasn’t.”

I
wanted to reassure him that if he had been, things might have been different,
but it would be a lie. The events leading up to that first night had made me
reckless. But it would have happened anyway, I knew. The proof was there every
time I was near David – my hidden yearnings came to life in his presence.

“Things
were perfect before,” he said into the darkness. “This will change everything.”

“Bill,”
I said, hedging. “Things were not perfect.”

“We’re
happy, though.
I don’t hit you
,
I
don’t call you names
. We eat together almost every night, we have good
friends,
we
don’t fight. When was the last time we
fought?”

“I
know that to you, it doesn’t make sense. But there are,” I proceeded carefully,
“other things that played a part in all of this. You put so much pressure on me
about the future.”

“But
you knew this was coming. The house, a baby – you knew.”

“And
because I knew, I feel guilty that I’m not ready.”

“I
can’t believe we’re discussing this once again.”

I
sat up against the arm of the couch and flipped on the bedside lamp. “Don’t dismiss
my feelings.”

“What
am I supposed to do? Tell you that it’s
okay
you don’t want kids? That it’s
okay
to continue living like college students in this shoebox? Sure, honey, let’s
wait until we’re forty to decide. No,
Liv
. It’s
unacceptable. It’s impossible.
You
don’t know what you want.”

“I’m
not saying I’ll never want those things, but I don’t feel that way now. And
when you tell me what I want and ignore my concerns, I shut down.”

His
voice sounded far away when he responded slowly. “I hope you aren’t trying to
turn this on me.”

“I’m
not, but you asked why I did this. I’m telling you that sometimes, I don’t feel
that I have your support.”

“How
can you say that to me? I’ve always supported you. You’re the one who is
emotionally unavailable.”

I
cocked my head. “And you love that. It means not having to deal with the real
issues.”

“I
love that? Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Yes,
you do,” I said boldly. “The truth is, you see what you want to see. It’s
easier to ignore the problems.”

“What
problems
?”

“Problems
between us.
My issues growing up.
My fear to open up,
to move forward in this marriage.”

“Hang
on a sec.
You
’ve told me several times that you hate
when I ask questions. You hate talking about your parents’ divorce.”

“Then make me tell you!” I pleaded. “God, Bill, all
those times I brushed you off, you never cared enough to try harder. Things are
always enough for you, and they aren’t for me.”

“
This doesn’t make any fucking sense.
You
don’t make any sense.
Give
me one example.”

“I’m not playing games
–
”

“Tell me!” He pounded his fist on the coffee table, his
words tearing through the silent night. “You want me to ask questions, well I’m
asking. Tell me!”

“My scar!” I screamed. “How could you have never
asked about my scar?”

He sat in silence, watching me with wary eyes. When
he spoke again, his voice was low and uneven. “I knew it had to do with the
divorce, and you never want to discuss the divorce.”

“You never wanted to know where it came from?
Your own wife?
It never occurred to you that it was a source
of pain and sadness and regret? You never wanted to know what it represented?
To make me tell you, no matter how much it hurt me?”

“Of course I wanted to know, but whenever I bring up
the divorce you turn frigid on me.”

“It scares me to think,” I said quietly, “that you might’ve
taken her side anyway.”

“She didn’t mean to hurt you.”

My eyes crept up to his. “You knew?”

“Your mom told me once. She and your father had an
argument, you jumped in the middle and she stabbed you by accident. And that’s
what prompted the divorce. You can’t blame her for assuming that you’d already
told me.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”