“Oh well, I’m so sorry to have inconvenienced you, Vic! How terrible of me to unknowingly marry a man who didn’t even love me, and have his children, and bend over backwards to try to salvage a relationship, all the while being lied to, while you had to sneak around to service him! How terrible that must have been for you, Vic! How incredibly inconvenient for you! I can’t believe how insensitive I’ve been for all these years!”
My inner Leah is completely taking over as I shout at him, my fists curled up in balls at my sides. Not that I am gearing up to punch him—just the opposite. My fists are balled up so that I don’t slap him clear across his sanctimonious face. I never liked him to begin with, and this revelation certainly isn’t improving our relationship.
Vic somehow misses my sarcasm.
“Damn right! You know how hard it is when the person you love doesn’t love you enough to admit it to the world because he’s afraid? And nothing you can say makes it better? Nothing you can say changes his mind?”
“I loved you!” Richard’s head snaps up. For a second, I think he’s talking to Vic, but then I realize he’s looking at me, tears glistening in his eyes. “I swear, I did. I do. But not like you need me to. I thought if we got married, if I built a life with you, I could love you in the same way I loved Vic.”
“So basically, he was hoping you would replace me and he would be miraculously cured of his innate sexuality,” Vic says, crossing his arms over his chest and popping out his hip defensively.
I stare at him in awe. I always knew Vic was gay—it was never a secret. I just never in a million years thought that he would be a threat to my marriage. All those days and nights that Richard spent with Vic, “building” the gym up from nothing...I wonder now how many of those hours were really spent working, and how many of those hours were spent doing exactly what they were doing when I walked in on them just now.
“That’s not true, Vic,” Richard says. “You have no idea what it’s like to be me at all.”
“That’s right,” Vic snaps, turning the tables on Richard. “I’m honest with myself, something that you can’t seem to do.”
“You know what my parents are like,” Richard pleads to both Vic and me. And I do. My in-laws are the most judgmental, condescending human beings on the planet. When they found out Richard was marrying me, they had turned up their noses just because they found out I had Irish blood and my father was a janitor.
I can only imagine what they would do if they found out that their son was gay. They will probably disown him.
“I’m really sorry, Vi,” Richard rises to his feet and moves next to me. For once, I don’t see the controlling man I married. I see a hurt little boy that may just be trying to control his surroundings to make up for the fact that he really isn’t in control of his life at all. For a brief moment, my heart breaks for him.
Until I remember he lied to me and dragged me down with him. Instead of just ruining his life, he ruined mine as well. I spent over twenty years living a lie and I didn’t even know it. As he reaches out toward me, I take a step back. His hands collapse at his side.
“I’m sorry too, Richard,” I say, trying to dredge up some dignity. “But we can’t continue to live like this. Our marriage is a lie and that’s not fair to me.” I fold my arms over my chest.
His head droops, hanging in shame. “You’re right, Vi. I haven’t been fair to you or Vic.”
“No, you haven’t,” Vic pipes up, the ever present thorn in my side.
“I want a divorce,” I say bravely, followed by a sharp intake of breath. Richard is vulnerable right now—it’s now or never.
Tears glisten in Richard’s eyes. “Okay,” he says. “Then that’s what we will do. I’m so sorry, Vi. I never meant to hurt you, really, I didn’t.”
I shake my head at him. “Oh, Richard, you’ve been hurting me since the day we met. I’m just happy that it’s going to end soon.”
I run from the room before he can see me cry, dashing up the stairs to bury my head in my pillow.
LEAH
“What are you wearing?” he asks seductively.
“Absolutely nothing,” I say in a breathless voice. “I am completely and totally naked.”
“Oh man,” he moans on the other end of the phone. “You’re killing me, Leah. What am I supposed to do with that knowledge?”
“Oh, I can tell you what to do,” I purr, ready to launch into explicit phone sex with him, when an urgent beeping summons me from the very phone that I’m holding in my hand. I pull it away from my ear and stare at the picture of Violet.
She promised she would call me after talking to Richard and it’s been almost five hours since I dropped her off. I am eager to know what happened and what took her so long. I hate to cut Nick off, but my best friend needs me.
“I’m sorry, Nick. But Vi is calling. I have to go.”
“But you were with her for over a week straight!” he protests. “I need you right now. In fact, I really need you, if you know what I mean.”
“So does she,” I explain. “Well, not in that way.”
I can almost see him hanging his head in defeat. “Okay. I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
“You’re the best,” I tell him.
“Call me back soon,” he whimpers dramatically. “I’m dying here.”
I smile to myself as I switch over to Vi’s call. Nick definitely seems to be a keeper. I mean, what other guy would tolerate going on a date with a girl’s best friend in tow and helping her hold back the friend’s hair when she puked? And then allowing her to take the friend’s call at the start of some rousing phone sex? Keeper for sure.
“Hi,” I say cautiously to Vi. “How’d it go?”
I’m bracing myself for tears and incomprehensible sobbing, but Vi is breathlessly angry when she says, “You won’t believe what just happened, Leah!”
Vi then launches into an absolutely un-fucking-believable tale about walking in on Richard and his annoying assistant Vic—in flagrante delicto.
My jaw is practically grazing my kneecaps when she finishes, telling me that Vic and Richard have been lovers for even longer than we’ve known Richard. She is furious, and rightfully so. I’m furious. Hell, I’m livid. I can think of a hundred ways to kill Richard right now. I want to go over there so badly and just pummel him into the piece of crap that he is.
But the fact that Vi is so mad is comforting to me. Normally Vi would feel personally responsible for the situation other people put her in, allowing those people (especially Richard), to walk all over her and take advantage of her (hence, why she is in this situation with Richard to begin with).
But not today. Today Violet is a beast. She is talking about divorce lawyers and Richard moving out of the house like it’s a done deal.
“Wow,” is all I can say before Vi tells me that she actually made an appointment with some hot-shot lawyer in the city for the following week, even before she called me. I’m partly impressed and partly hurt that some random divorce lawyer in the New York area knew about my best friend’s plight before I did.
“Can you come with me?” she asks in a little girl voice. “I mean, Richard is coming. Obviously. We talked about it and he wants it to be an amicable split and all that, so he’s going to be using the same lawyer—”
“Is that even legal?” I ask, hating Richard so much right now. “Amicable, my ass.”
Vi should take him for everything he’s got for the way he lied to her for so many years. Of course Richard wants it to be “amicable”, so he can continue screwing her against the wall like he’s been doing. Or rather, like he’s been screwing Vic against the wall behind Vi’s back.
“Leah,” Vi says in her little girl voice again, my anger hurting her. I sigh, knowing she doesn’t need that from me right now. She needs me to be by her side. Her husband has hurt her enough already.
“Of course I’ll come with you. When are you going?”
“The appointment isn’t till next week, Tuesday at fi
ve o’clock. It’s not too far from your office.”
“Okay,” I reply, jotting down the details on the notepad near the phone. I think I have a meeting that day at five, but my best friend is way more important than a debate about what font constitutes a serious website, and why comic sans is not acceptable under any circumstances.
“I really wanted something sooner, but I guess a week will give me the time I need to gather the necessary paperwork and all that.”
And plenty of time for you to back out, I think with dismay. My job for the next week is to not let Vi talk herself out of breaking free from Richard. Of course, I think my job might be slightly easier under the circumstances in which she discovered her husband upon her return.
Still, I’m going to need to see her and talk to her every day...several times a day if need be. Maybe I should arrange for us to have a spa day so that she can—
“I think I may call George to talk to,” she says suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. “Maybe not tonight because it’s already pretty late, but I took tomorrow off so I may call—”
“George? From the cruise George?”
I’m confused. Is Vi actually romantically interested in George? She denied it vehemently on the cruise.
“Yeah. He was helpful to talk to. He’s been through a divorce and he’s a psychologist, too. He gave me his number.”
“Yeah, he wants to get in your pants, Vi.”
“Leah! That’s a horrible thing to say!”
“He’s a guy. That’s all they want,” I explain.
“That isn’t true. Not all guys are like that.” Violet sounds mortified and irate at the same time. She’s going to need a shrink for sure after this whole thing goes down. But not George. George has too much invested in a relationship with Vi. He wouldn’t be the ideal shrink, especially if he’s supposed to be her friend—he can’t be a non-partial observer.
“Most guys are like that, Vi, I’m sorry to tell you. You’ve been out of the game for a while.”
“Oh, so all of a sudden over the last twenty years all men suddenly become assholes?” Vi snorts.
“No. They always were assholes. You just forgot about it because you were living with the ultimate asshole.”
“Seriously, Leah, I’m not pursuing a relationship with George. I need someone to talk to and—”
“What about me?” I can’t help but feel a little hurt by her exclusion.
“You can’t be impartial at all, Leah.”
“I can try. You should at least let me try.”
Vi sighs audibly. “George walked in on his wife and her lover, remember? So not only did he go through a divorce, he pretty much went through the same exact scenario that I did. Except, he didn’t have the added embarrassment of his wife having sex with another woman.” She sighs again loudly, and I can tell she’s chewing on the ends of her hair, a nasty habit she seems to take up when she’s extra stressed...which is often.
“You’re right,” I concede, not liking where this is going, but knowing that my protests aren’t going to discourage Vi from seeking out George’s advice.
And actually, George isn’t that bad of a guy. I only met him a few times, but he had been generally concerned over the possibility that I might jump over the side of the boat, so there’s that. And I did think that he would be perfectly suited for Vi when I first met him. It probably wouldn’t hurt if Vi had a friend like George.
“I know I’m right,” Vi replies huffily. “But thank you for saying so.”
There is a brief moment of silence, neither of us knowing what to say next.
“I’ve got to call Nick back,” I finally say.
“Oooo, Nick,” Vi replies in a sing-song voice.
“Yeah, I left him hanging when you called. We were talking pretty dirty. Poor guy probably has blue balls now.”
“Oh God, Leah!”
I love to embarrass Vi like that. You would think at forty years old it wouldn’t be so easy, but all I have to do is talk about sex...or bodily fluids...and Vi is the color of an apple. She came from a very prudish upbringing.
“I’ll call you afterward?”
“No way,” Vi protests. “It’s already ten o’clock. I’m going to bed. Not that I’m going to be able to sleep. God, I’m going to need a Valium or something. What does one have on the night one walks in on her husband having sex with his male assistant?”
“Fudge?”
“Ugh. No!” Vi cries out with exasperation. “I just can’t even today. I’m going to have a giant glass of wine and crumble some pharmaceuticals in there.”
If I thought for a second she was serious, I would be chastising her, but I know Vi. She won’t even take an aspirin if she’s had a glass of wine.
“Do you want me to come over?” I offer, secretly hoping she doesn’t. Not only do I not think I can see Richard right now due to my overwhelming urge to hit him in the face with a shovel, but I really, really want to call Nick back.
“Nah,” Vi assures me. “I’m a big girl. I need to be alone. I’m making Richard sleep on the open up couch in his office. And tomorrow he’s going to look for an apartment.”
“He should go sleep in hell,” I huff. “You’re too nice letting him stay under the same roof.”
“Leah, I don’t really want to talk about it anymore tonight. Believe me, we’ll be talking about this in the morning. I only called because I knew you’d be pissed if I let it go till tomorrow without telling you.”
“That’s not true,” I lie. I would have been very pissed if she hadn’t told me until tomorrow.
Vi laughs. “Sure.” She knows me too well.
“Love you, Vi.”
“Love you, too.” She disconnects the call without another word.
I stare at the phone for a few minutes, half heartbroken for her and half elated for her. I think elated is going to win out. She can be free of Richard now. What she walked in on was awful, but for once, she’s not feeling guilty, or like she should just try to put up with his bullshit for the sake of the kids, or whatever other nonsense she’s dreamed up in her head. I always knew Richard was wrong for her, and now Vi has proof of that.
I poke the buttons on my phone, pulling up my contact list and then dialing.
“Hey, sexy,” I purr when Nick answers. “So what are you wearing?”
1 YEAR LATER
VIOLET
“Come on! We’re going to be late!” I yell up the stairs.
Samantha is the first downstairs, of course. She is clad all in black (including lipstick), yet her face remains the cheeriest of all my children. The boys follow, grumbling as they drag their bags behind them.
“This is lame,” Jeremy complains. “I don’t see why I have to waste my entire winter break.”
Matthew nods his head, agreeing with his older brother. But this is nothing new—Matthew agrees with everything Jeremy says. It’s like he’s Matthew’s new hero, now that Richard has moved out.
The boys are definitely having more trouble processing the divorce and Richard’s sexuality than Samantha is. For a while, Jeremy actually refused to see his father, let alone stay over at his and Vic’s new apartment. It took about seven months and seven thousand dollars in therapy to get him to go out to dinner with his father.
He later told me that he felt betrayed and lied to by Richard. While it broke my heart to see my tough sixteen-year-old crying on the therapist’s couch, part of me was secretly relieved. I was so scared that the kids would resent me for the divorce, especially the boys, considering that they had always put Richard on a pedestal.
Samantha has taken the divorce, and the news of her father’s sexuality, in amazing stride. She did start dressing all in black and began to listen to loud screaming music in her room, but since she started high school, I’ve honestly never seen her happier. She has a new group of friends who like to read depressing novels, dress like goths, and be social outcasts together, and that suits her just fine. She is the only one of the children not vehem
ently opposed to the fact we are planning to spend Christmas vacation on a cruise ship.
“The cab is here, Mom,” Samantha informs me as she parts the blinds in the living room.
“Good. Jeremy, can you grab my bag while I check the back door?”
“Why do you have to obsessively check the doors?” Jeremy scoffs as he tugs on the handle of my new suitcase. It glides effortlessly over the hardwood floor.
“Because you kids obsessively forget to lock the doors,” I volley back at him.
He is still grumbling as he rolls the bags out the door and I check the sliding glass door (twice) to make sure it is indeed locked. It’s not really that the kids forget to lock the doors all the time (they do forget plenty of times, though)—it’s been a bit of an adjustment living without a husband to protect the family.
Yes, I know. That sounds very anti-feminist and Leah would probably lose her mind if she heard me say that, but it’s completely true.
The first time that I slept alone in the house without Richard, I was up the entire night, obsessing over every last creak and noise. I never realized how safe and secure Richard had actually made me feel. Having Jeremy in the house was surprisingly not reassuring, since I was pretty certain that he could sleep through a rock concert playing in his bedroom. And Sunshine, my pathetic excuse for a dog, would probably run and hide if an intruder were to break in.
This went on for two weeks before I was so sleep deprived that I called a security company and had alarms and cameras installed everywhere. It was pricey, but well worth the expense for a decent night’s sleep.
Assured that the door is locked, I tap in the code on the alarm panel, lock the house, and join the kids out front. I watch in horror as Jeremy and the cabbie toss the suitcases in the trunk of the cab, envisioning the shampoo bottles opening and dripping all over everything.
Cringing, I climb into the cab and it speeds off to the boat dock. I rest my head against the seat and close my eyes. I have vowed that I am actually going to relax and enjoy this cruise. All the kids are with me, Sunshine is at the dogsitter’s house, the house is locked and alarmed, and I don’t have a care in the world. Or at least I shouldn’t.
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