What's Done In the Dark

by ReShonda Tate Billingsley

  I set my bowl on the table, then made my way to the front door. I glanced through the peephole and didn’t know whether to smile or cry.

  I swung the door open. “Greg.” I would’ve given anything for him to take me into his arms. As furious as I was about that stunt he pulled, I wanted everything to return to normal. The fact that he would so publicly humiliate me, and himself, told me just how deep this pain had run.

  “Hi,” I said, opening the door.

  Greg barged past me. “Where’s Liz?”

  “Upstairs.”

  He spun around to face me. His tone was formal, his anger still frosty. “Did she tell you that I think she should come stay with me?”

  Now, Greg was about to make me mad. It was one thing to have hatred for me. It was another to try and turn my daughter against me, especially when I’d been the primary caregiver all of these years.

  “Don’t do this, Greg. Our drama is between you and me. Don’t drag our daughter into this.”

  He laughed. “Are you kidding me? You dragged our daughter in this when you decided to sleep with Steven.”

  I sighed and walked back into the kitchen. “Greg, I’m not going to fight with you.”

  “She’s coming to stay with me,” Greg said with finality as he followed me.

  “You’re at a hotel.”

  He drew himself up, like he was making an announcement. “Actually, only until the end of the week. My apartment will be ready then.”

  I slumped against the nearby wall. “Apartment? You can’t be serious.”

  “What did you expect, Felise?” Greg said. “Did you expect to screw your best friend’s husband, betray me and our marriage, try to cover it up, then think we would just go about life as usual?”

  “I–I didn’t think.”

  “You never do.”

  A wave of tears welled up. I don’t know why. Why would I ever expect Greg to forgive me after what he’d done?

  “But you said you forgave me,” I found myself saying anyway.

  “I lied,” he said bitterly.

  “So, this was all some elaborate revenge ploy?”

  He shrugged. “Part of me wished that I could forget that you were a liar and a cheat. But I can’t. And I wanted you to hurt like I was hurt. Should I have handled it a different way? I probably should have. But oh, well.”

  That birthday party speech was cold, calculated, and carefully planned out. My husband had turned into an assassin. But I knew that telling him that would ignite another outburst, so I lowered my head.

  “Please, Greg?” I tried to grab his arm. “Don’t leave me. Give me another chance.”

  I don’t know why I was begging. I think I couldn’t bear the thought that I had destroyed our family.

  Greg pulled out of reach. “Even if I could forgive your betrayal, I could never forgive the elaborate lie you carried afterward. On top of your betrayal, you stole from your child’s college fund to cover it up. I can never trust you again.” He took a deep breath. “Can you go get Liz?”

  “You’re not taking my child,” I firmly told him. He could leave the family, but it would be a cold day in hell before he took my child with him.

  He stopped and glared at me. “The last thing you want to do is try to fight me over custody of our child. I promise you, you will lose.”

  “Dad?” We both turned to see Liz standing in the kitchen doorway. “I want to stay here,” she announced.

  He raced over to her and took her hands. “Liz, you’re too young to know what you want.”

  “No, I’m not,” she calmly replied. “Mom messed up, yes. But you don’t turn your back on people you love just because they make a mistake.”

  Her words made me want to cry.

  “You guys didn’t turn your back on me when I broke your iPad.” She paused and looked him dead in the eye. “She didn’t turn her back on you when you left her here crying alone all those nights.”

  “I didn’t turn my back on you when you had an affair,” I wanted to add, but I kept my mouth closed.

  “This is different,” Greg said, shaking his head. “You don’t understand this.”

  “I understand that if you love someone, you give them a second chance. I understand that.”

  Thwarted in his plan, Greg glared at her for the longest time, then snapped, “Fine. You want to stay, stay.” He headed toward the door before spinning around to face me. “Liz might be able to forgive your betrayal, but I never will.”

  I wanted to break into pieces, but my daughter moved in next to me and slowly intertwined her hand with mine.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” she whispered as he stormed out. “Dad’s just mad. He’ll calm down and come around.”

  I knew that would never happen, but I was grateful that Liz had stood up for me. She had forgiven me. I still had my daughter by my side.

  56

  Paula

  IN THE PAST, NO MATTER how down I was feeling, no matter how disgusted with my life I was, looking at my wedding pictures brought me joy. Despite the big wedding, despite the baby inside me, despite the mixed emotions, on that day I was in heaven. The day itself had been beautiful, and in the past the pictures had always reminded me of how happy I’d been.

  Now they made me sick to my stomach.

  Especially when I looked at the picture of Felise as my bridesmaid, standing up for me. I had asked her, over and over and over, whether she had feelings for Steven, and over and over she had told me no. She’d tried to act like they were strictly platonic but all along she’d had feelings for him. Now I felt like a fool.

  “Ugh,” I said, taking the picture out of the photo album and ripping it to shreds.

  The next picture made me just as mad. It showed Steven, my sister, and Felise. Charlene was grinning from ear to ear. Both Steven and Felise looked uncomfortable. My mind started churning. Had they snuck off somewhere and got in a quickie? Had they cried because they could no longer be together? Is that when their affair began? Felise could say what she wanted. Even if I believed that her sleeping with Steven was a one-time thing, the fact that she would risk everything for that night of passion meant only one thing: she was in love with my husband.

  Just the thought felt like a knife being plunged into my heart. I replayed the last six weeks and how she hadn’t been my side. My mind churned as I tried to recall every word she’d said to me in the past six weeks, how she’d tried to get me to move on. How she’d tried to convince me how much Steven had loved me. The memories sent me on a screaming rampage. I cried. I cursed. I yelled as I snatched each photo out of the book and ripped them up.

  When I finished, almost every picture in my wedding album was shredded and scattered all over my floor.

  “Mom, what did you do?”

  My daughter was standing in the doorway to my room, examining the wreckage.

  I fought back tears as I fell back against my headboard.

  “It’s okay. Sometimes tearing stuff up makes me feel better, too,” she said, coming into the room and sitting down next to me. She leaned over and picked up one of the torn photos. “And a lot of times I end up regretting destroying it.” She gently set the mangled photo down on the coffee table.

  I stared at my daughter. She was really becoming a beautiful young woman. “How did you get to be so smart?”

  “I come from good stock.” She smiled, and I took her hand as we sat in silence for long moments.

  “Mama told me you said you didn’t think I loved your dad,” I finally said. My heart had plummeted when my mother told me that this morning. She was trying to get me to let my anger go and focus on my family. She said my kids needed me, but sitting here looking at my oldest, I was starting to think I needed them. “Is it true? Did you say that?”

  She slowly nodded. “It is.”

  “I loved your father,” I said firmly.

  She hunched her shoulders. “Sometimes he—we—couldn’t tell. You always seemed so mad at everybody. Like you wanted to be anywhe
re but here with us.”

  That made me cry. Yes, I vented and complained a lot, but I loved my family. I really did.

  “That’s not true,” I said. “I just . . . I . . .” I had no excuse, so I said, “Is that why you were able to forgive Felise, because you think I didn’t love your father anyway?”

  She pursed her lips, thinking. “No. I forgave Nana because it was the right thing to do. You know Nana isn’t a monster. Yes, what she did was wrong. What Dad did was wrong. But they aren’t bad people. You just told me this the other day about Chelsea. We made up, and it was thanks to you.”

  “Sweetie, this is way different from you and Chelsea,” I said defensively.

  “Not really. Yes, it’s a lot more painful, but it’s still the same. You and Nana were best friends. Like you told me about Chelsea, friendships like that are worth forgiving.”

  I never thought my lectures to my daughter would come back to haunt me.

  Tahiry continued, “Besides, you’ve taught me all my life that God wants us to be loving, forgiving people.”

  I gave her a half smile. “Now you want to start listening to me.”

  She smiled back. “I know this is harder on you than anybody. But you gotta know Nana isn’t somewhere gloating. Uncle Greg moved out. Everybody knows.”

  I raised my eyebrow in an I-don’t-care gesture, but Tahiry kept talking.

  “And while Liz forgave her mother, it’s still hard on her. And that means it’s hard on Nana.”

  “Liz forgave her?” I asked.

  “That’s her mom. Wouldn’t you want me to forgive you no matter what you did?”

  I didn’t know how to reply to that. Finally, I said, “Of course I would, but I’d never do anything like this.”

  “We should never say never,” Tahiry replied. “Just think about it, Mom. Hate is a wasted energy. Isn’t that what you said?”

  Tears welled in my eyes as I stroked my daughter’s cheek. I had wallowed in bitterness and self-pity for so long that I’d missed my daughter turning into a young woman.

  “I’m so proud of you,” I said. I didn’t know if I could be as mature as my child in this whole forgiveness thing, but she’d definitely given me food for thought.

  “I love you, Mom.” She leaned down and started picking up all the destroyed photos. She reverted to her usual teenage voice as she said, “Now, can we tape these pictures back together? I need them to one day show my kids these ugly bridesmaid dresses.”

  For the first time in days, I laughed.

  57

  Felise

  STEVEN JAMES WRIGHT

  LOVING HUSBAND

  DEVOTED FATHER

  1977–2013

  MY FINGERS GENTLY RAN OVER the tombstone. I wasn’t surprised that he had a headstone already. While most people had to wait six weeks, Ms. Lois was going to make certain her son went out in style.

  “Nice headstone,” I said as I laid the flowers down on his grave. The day was overcast and dreary, and matched my mood. Or at least the mood I’d come here with. I was hoping to leave cleansed and ready to move on.

  “Your mother is always looking out for you,” I said, as a memory came racing back. “You remember when your mom came up to campus when you got the presidential award and they put you at the back of the stadium?” I managed a laugh, which echoed in the silence all around me. “You were so embarrassed, and I calmed you down by reminding you how I would’ve given anything for my mother to come up.”

  I was talking to Steven like he could actually talk back. I’d give anything if he could.

  I swallowed the lump in my throat and reminded myself that I came here today for closure. Not to reminisce.

  My life was slowly but surely returning to normal. Things were a little uncomfortable when Tahiry came over, but I think that affected me more than her. Both of the girls had shown remarkable resilience.

  I knew it was time to stop wallowing in my mistake. When we were in college and I’d get depressed about something, Steven used to always say, “I need you to be a victor, not a victim.” I’d had a dream about him last night. He’d encouraged me to stop regretting and forgive myself. I’d woken up crying, but determined to heed his words.

  I brushed my skirt down and continued saying what I had come to say. “Steven, I’m so sorry for the mess. I knew better. We knew better. I wish that I had never let you go, but I did and as much as I loved being with you that night, it should’ve never happened. Too many people were hurt behind our actions. Paula hates me. Greg is gone. For good, I’m thinking. And while I never wanted the marriage to turn out this way, it’s probably best. I was really scared that I might have lost Liz, but you know she’s my baby, so she’s coming around.” I inhaled, blew a ragged breath. This was getting harder as I went on. “Everyone misses you so much.” I didn’t realize I was crying until I saw the teardrops falling. “It’s so hard,” I said, kneeling down on his grave. “I don’t know how I’m going to heal.”

  You’re a victor, not a victim.

  “But I’m going to be fine because I’m a victor. Not a victim,” I repeated, raising my head. Even in his death, Steven had a way of giving me life. “So, I’m going to do like you said and stop regretting. Tomorrow will be a better day. I am going to live today, not yesterday. And I’m going to remember what you told me that semester I failed English Lit: ‘It doesn’t matter what you did, its what you will do.’ ” I smiled at that memory. Steven was talking about my grades then, but it definitely applied to my situation now.

  I stood in silence for a minute, inhaling the brisk air, and feeling Steven’s presence surround me.

  Finally, I said, “I just wanted to come see you. And say good-bye. I’m going to go. The girls will be home soon.” I placed my palm on his headstone. “Good-bye, Steven. I’ll love you forever and always.”

  I thought about the last few months and what I could have done differently. I didn’t know how someone could stop beating herself up when she’d done something bad, but I knew I needed to figure it out. I needed to leave my guilt here with Steven.

  I made my way back to my car and felt an odd sense of peace on the ride home. I turned on the gospel station and let Yolanda Adams fill my spirit. I felt freer than I had in a long time. But my new attitude was short-lived. When I turned on my street, I saw Paula parked in my driveway. I knew my good day had just come to an end.

  58

  Paula

  I DEFINITELY HAD GROWN AS a person. Mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. Because for the first time since I’d found out about my best friend’s betrayal, I didn’t have the urge to body-slam her.

  “Hi, Paula,” she said tentatively, approaching me.

  I was leaned up against my car in her driveway. Tahiry had told me she and Liz were at the mall and they’d left Felise here alone. I was surprised when I arrived and she was gone, but I forced myself to wait because I had no idea when I’d get up the nerve to come back.

  I’d been waiting twenty minutes when Felise’s car turned onto her street. I know she was shocked to see me because she’d slowed down as she approached her driveway, as if she didn’t know whether to speed off or pull in.

  “What’s up?” I replied.

  I could tell she didn’t know what my reaction was going to be because she kept her distance.

  She stood there awkwardly. “I don’t think Tahiry is here,” she informed me.

  “I know where my child is,” I said. “I didn’t come to see her. I came to see you.”

  She shifted uncomfortably. “Um, well, do you want to come in?”

  I debated whether I should go inside. She was looking like she hoped that I would say no. I decided to do the opposite. “Yes, I want to talk to you.”

  I took a deep breath and followed her inside. I had practiced this speech all the way over here. This wasn’t about Felise. This was about me. This was about remembering the good part of my life with Steven, then closing this chapter and moving on.

  “I just w
ant to know how you could do it,” I said once we were in her living room.

  She didn’t hesitate. “I don’t have an excuse.”

  “That’s not good enough,” I replied.

  I could see pain in her eyes. The old me would’ve known this was hurting her, but after all we’d been through, I’d concluded that I didn’t know my friend at all.

  “We go way back,” I went on, my voice not carrying as much anger as I had anticipated. “And out of everyone on this earth, you are the last person I would’ve ever expected to do something like this.”

  “I know—” she began.

  I held up my hand to stop her. “Then I thought about it. If I had been thinking clearly, I would’ve realized you were the most likely to do this.”

  She looked shocked. “What does that mean?”

  “It means, I’ve always known that you loved Steven, even when you wouldn’t admit it. But you kept denying it until I convinced myself that you really didn’t have feelings for him. I knew better, and I was crazy to think that love had somehow disappeared.”

  “No, don’t blame yourself—”

  “Oh, don’t get it twisted,” I said, wagging a finger at her. “Trust and believe, I’m not blaming myself. What you and Steven did was only on you and Steven.”

  She retreated to her former cautious, wary stance.

  “All I’m saying is that I recognize that this is something that was festering for a long time,” I continued. “I get that. It doesn’t make it right. It definitely doesn’t excuse what you did. But I get it.”

  She appeared relieved, but I wasn’t done.

  “But I came here for the truth. Was that the first time?”

  She held up her hand like she was being sworn in at a trial. “As God as my witness, it was.”

  I hated that I believed her. But I did. “You know, it’s not that your word means anything to me anymore, but either you’re a helluva an actress or you’re telling the truth.”

  “I’m telling the truth. I’ve never said anything different.”

  I began pacing back and forth in her living room. “I’ve replayed this over and over. How you weren’t there for me after Steven died. You were there for Tahiry and I’m grateful for that, but I couldn’t understand why you weren’t there for me. Now I do.”