No Kiss Goodbye (9 page)

‘Whoa, whoa, whoa! Who said anything about attempted murder?’ Adam shrieks, his eyebrows rising ridiculously high.

‘You did!’ I insist. ‘You said Mark and Nicole put something in my drink.’

‘Yeah, probably prescribed meds. It could have been fucking sherbet for all I know.’ Adam pauses. ‘I certainly never said anything about anyone trying to kill anyone else.’

‘Ava, you think we should go to the cops, yeah?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know. I mean it’s all a bit hasty. I think maybe we are a little paranoid,’ Ava says, squirming in her seat.

I’m so frustrated I could scream. Why is she retreating now? Does she have to agree with Adam on absolutely everything?

‘Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?’ I yell, way too loud for the confined space of the car. ‘She wants me out of the picture. Don’t you get it? Nicole is winning. She’s taking everything from me. She has my kids, my husband, and now she wants my life.’

‘I know you’re scared because everything has changed lately, but I think you need to start thinking more rationally,’ Adam explains. ‘Let’s just go home. You can sleep it off back at my place.’

‘Sleep what off?’ I sob. ‘The drugs I’ve been tricked into taking, the two sips of alcohol I drank, or the paranoia that I’m clearly irritating you with. I thought you were on my side.’

‘I am on your side,’ Adam says, sounding genuinely supportive. ‘But you can’t try to destroy an innocent woman’s life simply because you don’t like her.’

‘I hate her,’ I correct. ‘And I’m not destroying her life. I’m trying to stop her before she destroys mine. But no one will help me.’

I cry myself to sleep that night. I’m no stranger to tears lately, but this was a new sensation. Fear has replaced the self-pity – horrible, uncontrollable terror.

I have mixed feelings about finding Mark’s car parked nearly in front of the door as we pull into my driveway early the next morning. Deep down, I’m relieved Mark came home. Visions of him and Nicole enjoying our hotel bed together haunted me all night. At least that was one less horror to face now. But I’m still nervous of the conflict I’m certain lies on the other side of the front door.

Adam helps me out of the car, and as we approach the house, my nerves begin to multiply. The door is slightly ajar, and I figure Mark is expecting us. Strange emotions tease me. Fear is my primal instinct but many sub-emotions squirm around inside me, but I’m too afraid to process them. It’s like a scene from an old black and white horror movie. The mad axe man waits patiently behind the door for his victim. I get the impression Adam is nervous too as he pushes me along by the grass verge leading to the door. He isn’t intentionally tiptoeing, but his shoes make no sounds as they graze the ground. Ava lags behind. If Adam is right, and Nicole and Mark are no threat, then why are we all so reluctant to go inside?

The walls in the hall have been stripped of family pictures. The sparse scenic canvases occupying the space where the kids’ smiling faces should be felt alien and offensive in my home. I want to rip them off the walls. Neatly stacked cardboard boxes sit under the stairs; they’re all individually labelled. I read through as many as I can see. ‘Attic Stuff’ one reads. ‘Baby Toys’ is scribbled on another. ‘Katie’s Clothes’ is written neatly on a third box.

Confusion replaces my fear now as I rush through to the kitchen. The messy poster paint pictures are missing from the fridge. The piles of laundry that I haven’t gotten around to folding have been neatly placed in a large suitcase that lies open on the table. I feel a chill run down my spine. The house is naked of all memories.

I catch Ava’s gaze. She’s as much in disbelief as I am. Mark hasn’t come home to wait for me. He has come home to leave me.

I hear footsteps on the stairs.

‘Mark?’ I call as I plunge myself back into the hall.

Mark walks silently down the stairs carrying more boxes.

‘What are you doing?’ I ask unable to disguise the desperation in my voice.

He ignores me, walking straight past to stack the boxes with the others.

‘Are you leaving me?’

‘I’m leaving this house,’ he finally replies.

‘But this is our home…the kid’s home. What will we do without you?’

‘This is just a house, Laura. It hasn’t been a home in a long time. I need to get away while I still have some happy memories of this place.’

His tone is cold and unloving. He speaks to me the same as you might a stranger on the street simply enquiring the time. There’s no hatred in his voice, just indifference. That hurts the most; to be indifferent means he lost the will to care. He doesn’t just no longer love me; he no longer acknowledges that he ever had.

I know he has firmly made up his mind. There’s no point in arguing because it won’t change anything. I’ve lost him. I’ve no idea how it’s all gone so horribly wrong, but somehow, we’ve become strangers. I won’t fight to save our marriage, but I won’t let him take my kids away.

‘I want to see the children,’ I demand.

‘No, Laura. We’re not going over this again,’ he protests.

‘We haven’t discussed anything. I’ve just been told that I can’t see them. Well, I’m telling you now I can. And I want to right now,’ I spit through an angrily clenched jaw. ‘I want to see the children today. I am going to your mother’s and don’t even think about trying to stop me,’ I warn.

‘I won’t stop you. But you’re wasting your time. They aren’t there.’

Mark’s face is a blank canvas; there isn’t a hint of emotion. It’s as though he’s rehearsed this very conversation and could recite it like a poem well learned.

‘Where are they?’ I ask softly. ‘Please tell me.’ I know I’m degrading myself by begging, but I can’t bear not knowing.

‘Laura, stop it; you’re upsetting yourself,’ a voice from behind me says.

I turned around to find Nicole behind me. Katie is sleeping in her arms, with her little head resting on Nicole’s shoulder.

I reached my arms out to take my baby girl. Nicole walks forward, about to hand Katie to me, but Mark shakes his head. My heart sinks.

Bobby appeared bright and cheery from behind Nicole’s legs. He has a small toy car, and he crouches on the hall carpet and begins driving it up and down in line with the pattern.

‘Vroom, vroom,’ he chirps, happily unaware of any conflict around him.

‘Hi Bobby,’ I say.

I startle him. He looks up for a moment but then looks straight back down to where his car is waiting.

‘Aren’t you going to say hello?’ I ask him.

He shakes his little head. Tears well in my eyes. I miss the kids so much, but Bobby has been just fine without me.

‘Bobby, it’s me. It’s Mommy. Please say hello to me?’

‘Hello, Mommy,’ Bobby says like a little robot.

He doesn’t look at me or even smile. He’s simply being a good boy and doing what he’s told. He clearly has no interest in talking to me.

‘Can we go to Mc Donald’s now, Nicky?’ he asks with excitement.

His bright blue eyes sparkle as he looks at her. I know that expression. He shares it with me every day when I pick him up after his morning playgroup. He’s too young to understand the words I love you, but his eyes tell me those words every day. Today, they tell Nicole.

‘Bobby, I can take you to Mc Donald’s. Would you like to go with me?’ I ask, my tone less sweet and a lot more anxious now.

‘No, I want to go with Nicky.’ He drops his cars and stands up to hold Nicole’s hand.

Frustration fills me.

‘Bobby, come here,’ I command.

‘No,’ Bobby shouts as he backs away to hide behind Nicole’s legs.

‘Bobby, come here right now,’ I say angrily.

Bobby begins to cry and calls for his father. His tears are strong, and I can see his little body shake as he rests his head against Nicole’s thigh. Katie wails. All the commotion is upsetting her. I desperately want to reach for her and kiss her soft forehead, but as I move forward, Nicole quickly distances herself.

Mark is so distant that he doesn’t acknowledge how upset the children are. He doesn’t take Bobby in his arms and rock him back and forth, as he used to. I hate Mark at that moment, but I still want him to hold our little boy. I want Bobby to feel safe and loved, but Mark is cold and unfamiliar. He’s ignoring our children as if they don’t even exist, and I know he doesn’t want them; he’s only taking them to hurt me.

‘Go on out to the car. I’ll be there in a minute,’ Mark instructs.

Nicole nods and both children go with her.

‘Bye, sweetheart,’ I say at one final attempt for recognition, but Bobby just sobs harder.

‘You’re acting scary,’ Mark insists angrily.

‘I didn’t mean to,’ I protest.

‘Of course, you didn’t. Your screaming and shouting were actually a warm and friendly gesture.’ Mark’s sarcasm cuts through me like a knife.

‘Nicole is taking my place. How do you think that makes me feel?’ I cry.

‘No!’ Mark growls. ‘She is just being a good friend. A job you clearly resigned from long ago.’

‘What the hell is that supposed to mean?’ I snap. ‘I would give my life to make you happy.’

‘Well, not so long ago that’s exactly what you tried to do.’

I look at Mark, almost lost for words. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’

‘Stop playing games, Laura. I can’t pretend anymore,’ Mark says. ‘You cost us everything. Every. Fucking. Thing.’

His tone has changed. He was so angry moments before, but now there are tears glistening in his eyes.

‘It was an accident. You know it was,’ I stutter. ‘I didn’t see the other car coming.’

‘Can you see it now?’ Mark softens.

‘What?’ I shake my head.

He’s confusing me. Is he doing it on purpose?

‘Can you see the other car, now? Maybe then you might find some answers.’

‘Stop being so cryptic; I don’t understand what you are talking about.’ I can barely speak I’m crying so hard.

‘You’re not the only victim, Laura. Open your goddamn eyes.’

‘I have my eyes wide open, and I don’t like what I see,’ I reply hastily.

‘You only see what you want to see,’ Mark whispers as tears swell in his red eyes. ‘I wish it was that simple for me.’

Mark is guarding his emotions, I could tell. He was hiding something. And now I know his secret.

‘I see that you and Nicole tried to kill me.’

There’s sudden silence. I scan the hall for any sign of Ava. I’m afraid now that Mark knows I’m aware of his plan he might fly into a furious rage and hurt me.

‘If you honestly think that, then you need a lot more help than I thought,’ Mark replies. His body is hunched so far forward I think he might fall to the ground.

He’s a broken man.
But it’s just an act.
He’s distraught that I know about his vicious plan to dispose of me.

‘Stop lying to me,’ I yell.

His helpless stance is pathetic. He can’t convince me that he’s anything other than a liar.

‘You’re lying to yourself,’ he whispers softly, dropping his head and sighing deeply.

‘Go on. Walk away. I’m better off without you,’ I cry. ‘I hate you.’

‘I know you do, but you can’t push me away. I will always come back for you,’ Mark says without lifting his head.

I instantly extract the hidden threat in his sentence. It’s a warning. If I try to follow him to take the kids, then he will come after me and finish the job he started last night.

I hurt inside. Pain knots in my stomach and aches in my brain. Every time Mark speaks, it’s in a tone foreign to his personality. He’s changed drastically, and I don’t know or like the man he’s become. He’s hurtful and frightening. A stranger hides inside the shell of my husband’s body.

I look through the glass pane of the front porch. Nicole is waiting in the passenger seat of
my
car. I don’t see my babies through the tinted back windows, but I hope they’re strapped safely into their car seats and blissfully unaware of the hell tearing their family apart.

Mark’s still speaking to me, but I don’t hear a word. Heartache is engulfing me.

The next few moments play out in unimaginable slow motion, although, in reality, it’s only a matter of a few short minutes. I can feel the loss of self-control sweep over me. A relentless rage surges through my body. It isn’t new. I've experienced temper like this before, and I recognise the warning signs. I know the pattern the rage will take. I knew I was losing control, but this time I embrace it. This time it feels good to rebel. I’m empowered by my fury, and I allow it to devour me completely.

Mark’s staring at me strangely. Perhaps he can see the anger brewing in my eyes. He almost looks frightened. For a moment, I suspect he recognises the warning signs, too. Maybe he knows what’s coming. He remains unmoving, but his eyes admit he’s desperate to back away.

I lean towards the edge of my chair, and with undeniable strength, I lunge viciously forward. I knock Mark helplessly to the ground. He lies still for a few moments pinned by the weight of my lifeless frame. He’s shouting. I can see his lips moving, but I choose to block out the sound he forces into my ears. I’m the powerful one now. I’m commander and chief. He can’t hurt me now.

My bubble quickly bursts. I’m wrong. Of course, he can hurt me. He’s by far the stronger opponent. He shows no remorse as he forces his large hands against my shoulders and pushes me upright roughly. I struggle to catch my breath, but before I can react, he catches my rigid waist and flings me off his bucking body.

I don’t know what expression I’m expecting to see on Mark’s face as I cower in the corner where he has thrown me. I’m waiting for hatred to appear in the tired lines that rest around his eyes, but instead, I see sadness – unbearable sadness. I recognise the expression. It’s heart rendering. Hatred would have been easier to bear.

Mark’s still carrying a secret; something more I still didn’t know. It’s scribbled in the contorted wrinkles of his face. He’s thirty-three on his next birthday, but lately, he wears the tired face of a man twenty years his senior.

I use my exhausted arms to pull my legs into a neat ball that I stuff under my chin. I remain a quivering mess in the corner as I watch for any sign of Mark backing down. I want so badly for him to kneel beside me and tell me it’s all a misunderstanding. That he loves me and we would work it out. But I know that’s an unrealistic fantasy.

Mark approaches me and I pull my knees closer to my chest. I begin to scream for Ava. I realise at that moment that more was lost than I first thought. We aren’t two people who have fallen out of love. We are two people driving each other to the point of insanity.

I scream and scream but Ava doesn’t appear. Mark gets close enough for me to see his chest heave with each heaving breath. I reach my hand over my head and use my elbow to protect my face. As long as I’ve known Mark, he was adverse to violence, but in that terrifying moment, I think he’s going to attack and I have no will to fight back. However, I never suspected he would use someone else to do his dirty work for him.