Bad Wife

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Bad Wife Page 3

by Sarah Michelle Lynch


  I feel sick. She’s done this before. And that time, she probably had her father pay for it then, too.

  “So, what? You were going to take my sperm, anyway? Knowing all this.”

  She sighs loudly. “No, of course not. But Susan has her ways, Adam.”

  “But my sperm is fine?”

  “It’s fine,” she repeats, “and I’m utterly horrified she relayed your results to you to the contrary. I can only apologise profusely. We should have known better but she said she was going to relay them to you and we also sent a letter, which she must have intercepted. I am so sorry.”

  “I can’t believe this.”

  “Please, be assured, I’ll note down the number you’re calling me on and be back in touch. How’s tomorrow? Perhaps you might speak with Susan this evening?”

  “I’ll do that, doctor. Please, don’t feel bad. She’s deceived me about a lot of things.”

  “I am so sorry,” she says, and sounds like she’s about to hang up, when she adds, “I wouldn’t have known anything if it weren’t for a hunch. I had to call her GP to begin with you see, and they put me in touch with the other clinic.”

  “I can’t… I’m shocked.”

  “Susan has mental health issues, Adam. I’m really surprised you didn’t know.”

  “No. No.”

  “I wouldn’t say anything normally because of patient confidentiality but she’s been admitted to a mental health ward before. Be sensitive when you confront her.”

  “Doctor, this is a little bit too much to lay on my shoulders on a Monday evening.”

  She takes some deep breaths. “To be honest, I’m deeply affected by this case myself. To learn she told you that about your fertility, it has knocked me for six. I trusted her, Adam. I told her the results over the phone and again in person and each time, she swore blind she had told you and would tell you everything. I can only continue to apologise but I’ve never come across anything like this before. I am so truly sorry.”

  “She recently decided we were getting rid of the landline and she also insists on taking care of all of our mail.” She sounds like she’s crying and I tell her, “I have a friend who’s in occupational mental health. Leave it with me.”

  “I’m just so sorry,” she says, ringing off crying.

  The ache in that woman’s voice… the hurt… it was clear as day and that was over the phone.

  Is this what my wife does? She goes around… lying, deceiving, bringing people to tears?

  I can’t believe this. I’m in shock. I’m almost… I almost don’t believe it’s true. But after seeing that marriage certificate earlier, so carefully kept from me…

  And now the news that she had a fiancé before me?

  That she allowed me to believe it’s me with the problem? That she may have continued to try and hide the truth, and for what purpose?

  I’ve heard of endometriosis and although pregnancy can make the symptoms better, isn’t it also dangerous? Some of the copywriting I do is for medical journals and I’m sure I’ve written something about it in the past… about how some women have to have a hysterectomy?

  How could she not tell me? Is this why I’m sent to the spare room some nights when she has her period? Is this why we go for weeks without sex because she tells me her period is longer sometimes?

  How could I have been such a fool?

  My phone pings with a message and it’s from her: I’m working until seven. I won’t be home until half past at best, but is there anything you want me to get? X

  No, no. See you then xx

  I dial Theo and he answers after a few rings. “Hey, dude. What’s up?”

  “Hi, pal. What you up to?”

  “I’m chilling with a beer and a book. Lily left to go get her car and drive home a little while ago. As for myself, I’m planning an early night—”

  “Mate, I’m not sure where to start.”

  “Why? What’s happened?” He realises it’s serious.

  “A lot. I mean, I don’t even know… She’s working late and I went rummaging through her stuff and found some shit and I’m… going insane. I shouldn’t put this on you, but—”

  “You’re scaring me now.”

  “I’m scaring myself.”

  I breathe heavily and he says, “It doesn’t sound like the sort of thing you can tell me down the phone.”

  “It’s the sort of thing you don’t even think exists. Like… I just… I can’t even. I can’t.”

  “Shit, Adam.”

  “Yep.” My throat closes and I realise what this feeling is… devastation.

  “Look, mate. Alright? I’m coming up at the weekend after my performance on Saturday night. Why don’t we grab a quick pint on Sunday or Monday evening?”

  “I don’t… I don’t know.” I can’t even think that far ahead.

  “It’s really that bad?”

  “It’s a million times worse than you could imagine.”

  “Okay, well…” I hear silence, but it sounds like he’s thinking. “I sometimes come up midweek for a flying visit to surprise her. I don’t have any shows on Tuesday and I’m not on stage until late Wednesday.”

  “Oh, god, would you? I don’t know who else to turn to… everyone else thinks the sun shines out of her arse.”

  “Not sure what type of person that makes me if you think I’m the only one who doesn’t.”

  I laugh for the first time today. “A fucking realist, I suppose. The only person I can trust who might believe what I have to say.”

  “I’ve never disliked her, Ads. I do like her, in fact. I just know there’s more to her than she lets on. She’d be fascinating to study.”

  “You don’t know the half, mate.”

  “Sounds bad.”

  “Really is.”

  “I’ll text you later, once I’ve had a think. Okay?”

  “You don’t know what this means to me.”

  “Chin up, there’s more than just me who has your back.”

  I hang up knowing I should feel reassured and comforted, but the truth is, I don’t. I might never do.

  Chapter Three

  The next evening, I hop on a train heading for Leeds, having told my wife Theo is in town for the night and has asked to meet up so we can discuss a few delicate issues regarding his new relationship. If only she knew!

  “Sorry, I’m so crap.” I arrive late and find him waiting for me with two drinks already set up. “You’ve come further than me and I’m—”

  “Nah, don’t worry about it. Should’ve seen Lily’s little face earlier. She was so pleased.”

  “Bless her.” Good old Lily. Safe Lily. Normal. Happy Lily. Not a psycho, not like my wife.

  “I didn’t know if you were driving so I got you one anyway,” he chuckles.

  “I’m not fucking driving.” God, no.

  I’ve hardly been able to concentrate on anything since yesterday.

  “Okay…” He looks perplexed.

  I drink back the lifesaving liquid and he searches my face, a bit scared to ask me what’s been going on.

  “So—”

  “How old would you say my wife is?” I ask, cutting him off.

  “Uh, well… I would’ve thought… our age. Maybe a year or two older? She’s already climbed the ladder quite a way.”

  I lean in and whisper, “How did I not know she’s thirty? How did I not fucking know, Theo?”

  My phone rings in my pocket and it’s blearing. I know that tone because she set it on my phone. It’s her on a video call. I take a deep breath, dread washing over me.

  Handing the phone to Theo, I ask, “Will you answer as if I’ve gone to the loo? Trust me. Just do it.”

  He looks at the phone like I’m crazy, or like it’s about to self-destruct if he touches the green button, but I nod and beg with my eyes for him to answer.

  “Uh, Susan…?” he answers, as if he didn’t answer on purpose.

  “Oh, Theo. Where’s Adam?”

  “Erm, he
left his phone on the table. He’s popped to the gents. How are you?”

  “I’m… fine. It… doesn’t matter. Just tell him I’m working late. We have a server down and we’re waiting for it to come back online.”

  “I’ll tell him.”

  “Congrats on the play,” she says, acting her arse off, “I read the reviews. Very well done.”

  “Thanks, thank you.”

  “Sorry I couldn’t come. But I’ll catch you at another, I’m sure.”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, then. Bye for now. Bye. Bye.”

  “See ya.”

  He hangs up and I check my phone, just to make doubly sure. He looks at me like I’ve been abducted by aliens or something.

  “What the fuck, Ads? What the fuck? Did she just call to check you are where you say you are?”

  I wince and nod. “That’s not the worst of it. It’s… it’s… fucking twisted, mate.”

  He reaches over and squeezes my shoulder. “Are you okay? Should I get you something stronger?”

  “I really need some professional advice right now, but I honestly think even Lily would hear me out and still wouldn’t believe what I have to say.”

  Theo stares at me, still utterly puzzled. “I know you, and I knew you before you were with wife, so come on. Tell me. I promise to believe you.”

  “Okay, okay.”

  “First, let me get you something stronger and we’ll find a quiet corner.”

  “Thanks, mate.”

  He brings me a whisky and one for himself, then we find that corner he was on about – a table only big enough for two, wedged between two glass dividers – very private.

  With the whisky in my veins, I ask first and foremost, “Am I going mad, mate? If I am, you have to tell me.”

  “I don’t think so,” he says. “What has she done?”

  A tear falls down my cheek and he looks incredibly concerned. This isn’t me, I know it isn’t, but I still feel like I’m going bananas.

  I tap my lip to stop it wobbling, catch my breath, and start, “She told me Sunday night she’s older. I always thought she was the same age as us because she never contradicted me. I even got her a cake with a ‘25’ on it for her last birthday and nobody said anything except her dad, who thought I was being a joker. I laughed it off at the time because it didn’t enter my mind she might have lied to me about that.”

  Theo sighs. “You’re just trusting, Adam. There’s no crime in that. Besides, she doesn’t look older. She looks really good.”

  He’s not getting it and I feel impatient that he’s not getting it. Can’t he see what state I’m in? Can’t he see…

  I have to remind myself he can’t see things from my point of view unless I tell him, and well, it’s not easy to tell your best mate you’ve basically been duped by your wife – duped to the extent you don’t even know who she is anymore.

  “Theo, you read a lot, yes?”

  “Sure.” He looks right into my eyes, finally something he can relate to.

  “You’ve read psychology stuff and that?”

  “Sure, I read up on personalities and stuff. Also, when Lily’s asleep, I read her coursework books. Some are really interesting.”

  “Well, I think Susan’s a compulsive liar.”

  He turns his head and regards me carefully. “Say what now?”

  “I’m not infertile. I called the docs. I’m not infertile. Susan told me I was. She said that’s what the doctor said.”

  Theo’s breathing changes and he stares at me dead-eyed, then he clutches his hair in his hands. “But you were there for the appointment? You must have been.”

  “Susan told me I wasn’t needed, she told me to stay home and she would bring me the results. I never saw anything on paper. I just listened as she cried and told me that she was so sorry but my sperm count was low and we’d need IVF to conceive. I just accepted what she said. Yesterday I had the fertility doctor on the phone crying her eyes out. Susan duped her, too. She had to ring Susan’s GP to find out Susan has a history of this. That she’s been through IVF before, with a previous partner, a fiancé no less. It’s like this fucking massive can of rotten worms I’ve opened, all because I realised if she could lie about her age, what else might she have lied about? I went through her things, found this letter, rang the clinic and found out the truth.”

  I look up and Theo’s shaking his head over and over. He doesn’t know what to say. Neither do I.

  “To be honest mate, when you first started seeing Susan everyone thought she was a nutjob. You just disappeared. Like, you were always up for a pint or a gaming session or whatever. More than anyone, everyone knew they could call you up and you’d be there, more than they could with like say me or Paul. And it wasn’t like you to not be a part of the group. And I know we’re all pairing off and doing the same now, but you literally went off the radar completely. And Chloe said she tried to befriend Susan during one of your nights out to visit her in London, but that Susan totally rejected her offer of friendship.”

  “And then I believed Susan when she said Chloe had been mean to her, didn’t I?”

  I hate myself for that, but at the time, I was madly in love with this new woman in my life and couldn’t see past her. Chloe’s always had an edge, but it’s an honest edge, an edge of take no crap. I should’ve realised that back then, but I didn’t.

  “It’s not your fault, Adam. You’ve been lied to. Brutally lied to. For her to tell you that about your manhood… I honestly… I can’t believe it. I’m shocked. Whenever she and I have spoken, she has always seemed so nice. So caring. She always cooks the best food and the more time we spent with her, the more we thought she wasn’t so bad after all. She and Lily even text occasionally. It’s… it’s really shocking.”

  He drinks back some of his pint and I see his hand is shaking a bit. That was me earlier when I was on the train here… thinking about having to tell my best mate about all of this. I had to visit the onboard loo and splash my face with water, breathe into a bag and get myself right again.

  I scratch my nail against an indentation in the scarred pub table, digging it out more and more, staring at it as I admit, “It’s really serious. She has mental issues, that’s for sure. She never told me she had a fiancé in the past or that she has this condition called endometriosis. I looked it up on my phone. She may never carry a child. She tried IVF before with this fiancé and it didn’t work. Did she tell me I’m infertile because she’s a bitch, or because she’s absolutely terrified I’ll leave her? Or even worse, she’s so in denial, she’d rather put it all on me than admit it’s her problem.”

  “I can only guess, Adam.” His voice sounds so grave, and I watched him play Hamlet last weekend in a version more gothic and twisted than Macbeth. “I mean, if it’s because she’s scared you’ll leave her, and she has this awful condition that nobody can do anything about… maybe you could forgive her?”

  I nod madly, then I shake my head, side to side. All sorts is going through my mind. “I heard the news you know and it didn’t actually bother me. I was like, ‘Okay, I’ve never really wanted a kid that much.’ I mean, that might be a typical blokey thing to say, but it’s not like I’ll regret it if we don’t have kids. Don’t get me wrong, I’d love to give her a kid and I’d love to have a son or daughter that resembles my wife, but if we don’t have a kid, I wouldn’t be too upset. That’s just how I feel and I don’t think she understands that. I don’t. I think she’s so desperate for a kid, I’m sort of not even a factor in this. She’s just using me for the sperm. My feelings don’t come into it.”

  “Maybe so, maybe so,” he agrees, “either way, your feelings are pretty normal. You’re not the one who fucked up here. You have to keep telling yourself that. You’re just being honest. She has never been honest.”

  “You know, once…” I can’t even believe I’m saying this and even Theo, steel-eyed guy that he is, looks bleary and scared for me. “You know her step-sister, Amelie? She said S
usan once tried to rape her step-brother, Lewis. She said that. I was like, who would do that? How would a woman even do that? Lewis is about as big as you and maybe even heavier… and I was like, no, no way, but now… I mean. Would she? Could she? Would she, Theo? Why would she? To steal some of his sperm? Because it doesn’t matter whose it is? Or to break the family up? To be able to claim Lewis raped her or something? To send her step-family away? Because she has never got on with any of them and never even sees any of them unless her dad forces her to. She hates the lot of them, I know that. All she has to do is click her fingers and tell her dad that he loves them more than her and he will bring out the cheque book right away to prove her wrong.”

  Theo rubs his temples. “Okay, well, look. I think you couldn’t make this shit up. She’s got some major issues.”

  “Uh, yeah!”

  “You’ve just got to decide what you’re comfortable with. I mean, if she is trapped in some kind of cycle of compulsive lying, she might react badly if you out her. She might get violent. You could continue with this sham and just sort of go along with it until she has to admit stuff to you. If she’s forced to admit it, that might be better than her finding out you’ve been snooping about. If she admits it, then she might also admit why she’s doing this. It just depends where you see this going. If you still want to be with her and still love her, I reckon you should hang in there.”

  I’m staring at him, gone-out. Why is he saying this? He should be saying she’s a whack-job and I need to file divorce papers immediately… escape as fast as I can. Run for the hills! Emigrate. Take out a contract and have done with her, take the money and run!

  “I thought you’d tell me to cut and run. That’d be easier.”

  “Yeah, but would it? You love her, don’t you?”

 

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