by Maren Foster
“Yes.” It felt so good to finally tell him.
He held me, for what felt like a long time, but when I peeked back into the window, Nate and Julia were still lying there admiring each other. Breathe. I finally got exactly what I needed. This is going to work!
I turned to Adam. “How’s my face?”
He wiped under my eyes with his fingers. “Let’s go.”
“That bad?”
“Come on. We shouldn’t be here.”
We got into Adam’s car and drove home. He pulled into his driveway.
“Come in,” he said.
“I can’t.”
“After what just happened, I don’t think you should be alone.”
“Things have to look as normal as possible,” I said.
“I don’t want you living in the same house as him,” he protested.
“I’ve been doing it for years. It’s no different now. I’ll be fine.”
He didn’t say anything but furrowed his brow.
“He only gets aggressive when he wants something he is told he can’t have. He knows he can have me now. That bores him. There’s no real risk.”
He leaned across the console and pulled me toward him. He kissed me passionately. I kissed him back. For a few brief minutes, I let myself get lost in his kiss. Then I pulled away.
“Freddie, will you be okay?”
“Yes,” I said.
“I’m so sorry,” he said.
“Thank you.”
I opened the car door.
“Good night.”
“Good night,” I said and made my way inside.
I knew I would have trouble sleeping after what had happened, so I made a cup of herbal tea, climbed into bed, and opened Vi’s diary.
March 27, 1989
Shreveport, Louisiana. Mom was being difficult again today. She kept nagging me to go to the bank to check on Dad’s pension payments and talk to the banker about why the payments are so small. I’m starting to realize how much of their finances Dad took care of and controlled. I’m not sure she’s ever really taken care of herself in that way. She never worked. At least not outside the house. There’s no question that she’s an excellent cook and she always took care of the house, but it’s pretty clear that she never knew how much dad’s pension would be, or that he wasn’t saving any extra money for retirement.
After I went to the bank and ran some other errands for her, she had the nerve to ask me to cook dinner too, because she said she was tired. Then, she just sat on the couch all night watching crap t.v. I am starting to feel like she expects me to do all of the chores now that Dad’s gone. It’s almost as if her whole motivation and purpose before was to serve him. She needs to finally learn how to take care of herself! I can’t wait to go to college! Dad and I always talked about the schools that I would apply to and I already picked up all of the applications. I have to get out of here! Even if I end up all alone and pregnant.
Wow, so that is it! That’s why Vi has always been so adamant that we support ourselves. I wish she would have told me. I wonder why she didn’t. I think I would have understood if she had told me. Does Ali know? Maybe that’s why she always understood Vi so much better than I did. But how would she have known?
March 30, 1989
Shreveport, Louisiana. I got into Northwestern!!! It’s all the way across the country in Chicago, Illinois. I have no idea what Chicago is like, but I’m excited! I guess it’s a really expensive school but they are going to waive my tuition because I got a full academic scholarship. The application for the scholarship was so long and annoying. It included an extra essay. I almost stopped filling it out half way, but I’m glad I didn’t! I will probably still have to get a job so that I can afford groceries and the other things that the scholarship won’t cover, but I will be on my own and I will prove Mom wrong! I am scared about having the baby on my own but I will finally be free from her! Maybe I will give the baby up for adoption. I think that would be really really really hard, but it will also be hard to raise a kid on my own. I don’t know what to do, but at least she won’t be there to tell me how to live my life!
Part III: The Send and The Touch
January 2018 to June 2018
The Breakdown
Sunday, January 28, 2018
Old Greenwich
I slept as late as I had in years, and woke up to an overcast sky. The daylight barely penetrated the room, although it was already nine. I sat up and realized that I was alone. The unopened New York Times was on the bed next to me.
I got up and took the paper downstairs. Nate was sitting at the kitchen counter on a bar stool reading the Wall Street Journal.
“Were you up early?” I asked.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Something wrong?”
“No,” he said.
I sat down next to him and opened up the Style section of the paper.
“Did you have a good time last night?”
“Yep.” He didn’t look up. “Candace said you did too.”
“I left early. I wasn’t feeling very well,” I said.
“Oh.”
A long silence ensued as he continued to read and I thought about how best to bring up his infidelity.
“I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”
He ignored me.
I continued, “Did you really think I didn’t know about you and Julia before last night?”
He mumbled something in response.
“Please look at me,” I said. “This is important.”
He folded up his newspaper and put it down on the counter. “What?”
“I can’t do this anymore.” I stood up. “I can’t sit here and be your fool while you fuck the neighbor’s wife.” Too melodramatic?
He rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that what you’re doing?”
“I have never been unfaithful.”
“Yeah right.”
I threw my paper on the counter. “I want a divorce!”
The corners of his mouth turned up.
“Are you smiling?” I yelled.
He shook his head slightly and his expression changed.
“You have nothing to say?” I demanded.
“You can’t have a divorce,” he said calmly.
Let me guess, because you told Jack not to send the forms in to the State. You think you’re so smart, but you’re not.
I took a deep breath. “Yes, I can,” I said calmly. “I’ll have a divorce if that’s what I want. I have proof of your infidelity now. I’ll have no trouble getting a divorce.”
“You won’t get a divorce,” he said flatly.
“I have video of you cheating on me. I have proof,” I said.
“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled.
“What did you say?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said.
“Why?” I asked. I knew his next move and was enjoying patiently goading him into what he thought was his moment of triumph.
He was silent.
“Because of the prenup?” I asked. “It doesn’t protect you from yourself.”
He shook his head.
“Then what?” I said. Come on already! Admit what you did.
His phone vibrated. He checked the incoming notification and then looked up at me. “Because we aren’t really married. We never were.”
There it is. “What do you mean?” I said, acting surprised.
“You heard me. We aren’t legally married. Jack never sent in the forms. We burned them.” He smiled. “There’s no record of our marriage, anywhere.”
You think you’re so smart, but I’ve got you beat. “So that’s why you didn’t want me to change my name. You didn’t want me to know that there was no marriage certificate,” I said, playing naïve.
He smiled sheepishly.
“But we had a wedding,” I said.
“So what? There’s no formal record of our marriage. Anywhere.” His cockiness was disgusting, but it would make the next bit even more fun.
“Of course it matters. We weren’t actually married.”
You think I’m just going to believe that and walk away? “Wow, I thought you were smarter than that,” I said, and he perked up.
“Smarter than what?”
“We had a wedding ceremony. We exchanged vows, and we were pronounced married by a man of God in front of our family and friends. Right?”
He nodded.
“You had a lawyer prepare a prenup, but you obviously didn’t run your little plan by him or he would have told you that in 1972 the Supreme Court of Connecticut ruled that a marriage entered into in good faith, believed to be real by one or both parties, and followed by cohabitation is a legal marriage. Hames versus Hames was the case, I think.”
“What are you? A lawyer?” he said.
“No, but I’m also not as dumb or helpless as you think. You haven’t always been the most trustworthy partner. I did a little research, out of curiosity.”
“You’re the one who wanted to get married,” he said. “So I gave you what you wanted.”
“Yeah, I did, and you obviously didn’t,” I said. “But why would you fake a marriage after I signed your stupid prenup anyhow?”
“I guess I wasn’t totally sure about you,” he said.
Does he know? “How come?”
“It just all seemed a little too good to be true. You always say exactly the right thing. You didn’t seem to care about my DUIs or about the sexual assault accusations.”
“Isn’t that what a good partner does? Support her significant other.”
“Sure. It just seemed so easy with you. Too easy. And I was worried that you were just after my money.”
So he doesn’t know who I am. He doesn’t know what he did to me. Thank God!
“Let’s just make this easy. As painless as possible,” I said.
“Make what painless?”
“Our divorce. We’re married, so I can have a divorce, and I have grounds for one, so I’ll have a divorce.”
“Sure, whatever. Hire a lawyer and let’s get divorced, but you won’t get a penny,” he said.
“You said you would always take care of me, Nate. You told me to quit my job, and then you cheated on me.”
“So?”
“So, you’ll give me the support you promised. You’ll provide for me like you said you would.”
“No, I won’t, because I can’t,” he said.
“What do you mean, you can’t?”
“There’s no money. I’ve been bleeding the business dry to pay the mortgage on this place. Our entire lifestyle depended on me. On my business. You have no idea what our finances are like.”
Is he lying? I should have been more involved in his business, but then, he never would have married me if I’d been nosy and overbearing.
“I made money too. I’ve contributed.”
“Yeah, a drop in the bucket. Do you know how expensive this house is? Your new car?” he said. “Don’t you get it? You’re nothing without me. There’s nothing in the bank. Take me to court. I dare you! They won’t find anything. The only thing they’ll find is evidence of this beautiful illusion,” he said.
I shook my head. I should have known. Fuck. How did I drop the ball on that?
“Look, you can do whatever you want. I won’t make you stay if you want to leave, but know that if you walk out that door, that’s on you. I will fight you in divorce court every inch of the way, and I’ll win,” he said.
Was it all for nothing then? Did I have sex with my rapist for nothing? Did I live with my rapist all these years for nothing? I stood there unable to move, struggling to breathe.
He continued in my silence, “Or stay. Mind your own business. Be a good wife. Do whatever you want, I won’t stop you. Have kids. Don’t work. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll keep paying the mortgage. Your credit card will never decline. But don’t you dare play detective, sticking your nose in my business, or make a mistake like this, ever again.”
What kind of woman would accept that bargain? Crap, I need time. Time to come up with another plan. I can’t walk away now or he’s won. I need him to believe I am helpless without him, that I believe that I need him and genuinely want to stay.
I looked up at him and he continued, “Come on. What choice do you really have? You said it, you quit your job. And I know for a fact that you don’t want to work anyhow. So stay with me.” His tone became surprisingly conciliatory.
“Do you love me?” I said. Are you going to keep fucking Julia?
“Sure. If it matters to you. We have a life together. The life I thought you wanted.”
“I did.”
“Look, I don’t appreciate being called out for cheating, but I get it. You were hurt and thought you had the upper hand. I’m sure you’re sorry. If you apologize and make it up to me, then I’ll forget this ever happened,” he said.
Our eyes met. I choked back tears. “I’m sorry,” I said. God! What am I doing? I can’t live like this, begging my rapist for forgiveness.
He smiled. “That’s right. But why?”
“Nate, I’m sorry I got upset about you and Julia. We went to a swinger party, so obviously I knew what to expect. I guess I just got jealous when I saw you with her,” I lied. “I was upset and I overreacted. I just don’t want to share you with anyone else, because you mean everything to me.” I let a tear roll down my cheek. It was a tear for everything I had sacrificed and for his momentary victory and my setback. Is he buying this?
He waited for a few moments, watching me.
“I understand. Apology accepted. Just don’t let it happen again. It might be good to talk to your therapist about jealousy. It’s a nasty sin, you know.”
“Yeah, of course,” I said.
He took my face in his hands and kissed me. My stomach churned.
“I think I’m going to go for a walk,” I said and left the room.
I got in my car and drove to Hammonasset Beach. It was cold and grey, and the wind whipped around me. I walked for a long time to clear my head. So that’s it. What now? Waves crashed onto the sandy beach. I can’t walk away from him now, after everything. I’ve invested too much. Given up so much. A large dog bounded down the beach toward me, its owner just a figure in the distance. Am I in this predicament because I didn’t go through the formal channels? Because I took justice into my own hands? Had I tried to play God? Am I being punished for my hubris? I shook my head. How silly! Justice is justice. What kind of God would punish me for trying to make a monster pay for what he did? I thought about it for a while. Wanting revenge is wrong, but isn’t injustice wrong too? Isn’t it wrong to let someone like Nate off with no punishment? An eye for an eye.
I walked toward the figure in the distance.
I have to keep it together. There has to be another way. How can I use his other weaknesses against him? How can I expose him for who he really is? I just need to figure out Plan B. If there’s no money, then all that’s left is his reputation and his freedom.
The Breakdown
Monday, January 29, 2018
Old Greenwich
Nate seemed unusually chipper all week. It was clear that he was pleased with his ruse. I tried my best to be pleasant. It was easier that way.
He needs to think that I’ve given up and am grateful for a second chance at this life with him. The longer he thinks he has out maneuvered me the better, because the more time I have to come up with a Plan B.
I spent every waking minute analyzing the situation, racking my brain looking for a way forward. It can’t all have been for nothing. There has to be a way to make him pay. I read accounts of women who had accused their husbands of rape. The odds of winning seemed bleak and the trials had left many of them in ruin.
Rereading Hames v. Hames, a footnote led me to Dennis v. Dennis (1896), whose headnote read: “A divorce sought by the wife upon the ground of her husband�
�s adultery, will be refused, where the act of adultery relied upon was brought about by the connivance of the wife.” An old fashioned honey trap. So not only does Nate say that there’s no money, but even if he’s lying and I try to divorce him, he could argue that I brought up the idea of going to the swinger party and was conniving to catch him cheating. He was the one who wanted to go to the party, but he’d never admit that and it would be his word against mine. Plus, I was the one who texted Candace about it. Hmmm, that might not work. If a divorce is out of the question, how else can he be held accountable and made to pay for what he’s done? How can his own flaws be used against him?