Hidden in Lies

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Hidden in Lies Page 15

by Rachael Duncan

There’s a soft knock on the door, and I know who it is. Cal couldn’t give two shits about me, so he wouldn’t care if I was barfing up my intestines, and I just don’t have the strength to fight off Alex.

  “Go away!” I shout, not caring who hears or how it sounds. Normally, I would worry that Cal would hear the distraught in my voice, but right now I. Don’t. Care. I’m met with silence and am so grateful that he didn’t push and is letting me be. After a few minutes, I make a decision. I’m confronting Cal about this. Repercussions be damned, I will not have him blatantly and publically disrespect me like this.

  Barging out of the restroom, I set my sights on Cal and charge his way. I’m on a mission. “You missed a text message,” I say accusatorily.

  Looking down at his phone, he says, “Okay.”

  “Why don’t you check it, Cal?” My arms cross over my chest in defiance. His eyebrow arches in warning, telling me to back off, but I don’t. “I already saw it. Do you want to tell me what that is?”

  “Well,” he starts, sitting back in his chair and crossing his arms to match my stance. “It looks like Mona’s pussy to me.” Picking up his phone, he examines it again. “Mmm, yes, that’s definitely Mona’s pussy.” My mouth falls open at his lack of remorse. I really thought he would try to hide it at the very least. My veins are filled with molten lava as my blood boils at his audacity. I am not this woman. I’m not the wife that turns a blind eye to her lying, cheating husband while he demands everything from her.

  “How long, Cal? Is this a recent thing? Something you’ve been doing while you’ve been voting?”

  Cal stands up and walks casually to me. His calm demeanor is a little eerie. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve been fucking her for months now. You’re a bore in the sack and I needed something a little more exciting. Mona does that for me. What goes on between Mona and I is of little consequence to you. This doesn’t change anything for us.” He lets out a small laugh. “Except now there’s no need for all the horrible fake orgasms.” My cheeks instantly flush at the mention of all the times I’ve faked it during intimacy and thought that he had no clue. My embarrassment quickly gets pushed aside as my anger over the situation takes over.

  “This changes everything!” I shout, the vein in my neck popping out. My hands are balled up at my sides while I lean forward to yell at him.

  “No, it doesn’t. You’re still going to accompany me to all campaign functions, interviews, et cetera. And you’re going to do it lovingly just like you’ve always done. You will show support, devotion, and loyalty, but now there will be no secrets. You see, I’m not the only one that’s been lying. Am I, Elizabeth? How stupid do you think I am? Do you honestly think I’ve been buying your pathetic act? That I really believed you love me? I know why you stay with me, and that’s fine.” My heart drops as realization hits. I’ve been miserable, pretending to be something I’m not for nothing. All this time he saw right through it, but he knew I’d never leave. “Now, neither one of us has to pretend in private. You’ll know when I’m out late that I’m fucking Mona, and when I come home we’ll be happily married again. Oh, and just so you know, the hate you feel for me is mutual. So the next time I shove my dick in your mouth—which, by the way, you will accept without complaint—just know it’s not you that’s getting me hard, it’s this picture of Mona’s pussy,” he says as he holds up his cell phone.

  I’m beyond mad right now. My vision blurs with the rage boiling beneath the surface. I’m mad at Cal for thinking this kind of arrangement would work, but I’m more upset with myself for always catering to him. In a way, it’s probably my fault he thinks he could get away with something so absurd. I never balk or question anything he tells me, so why would I now? Then again, he obviously knows that I’d put up with just about anything because of my obligations. Things have changed—I’m changing, and I refuse to play this charade with him any longer. “So, tell me, Cal. How does this work? You fuck her and then come home to shove your dick in my mouth? Is that how it’ll work?” I ask sarcastically, but the image of him all but forcing me to give him head runs through my mind. My stomach violently rolls at the thought that he was with her before he made me suck him off.

  “Elizabeth, that’s enough,” Cal says sternly in warning.

  Snap.

  That’s the sound of me losing my self-control. “No, fuck you, Callahan! Fuck yo—” I’m cut off by a strong backhand to the face. The force causes me to stumble slightly before I regain my footing. Immense pain explodes from my cheek, sending shock waves to my eye socket and through the rest of my head. The shock of what just happened renders me speechless as my mouth hangs open and I clutch my cheek. I blink several times trying to clear the tears in my eyes to regain focus. When I’m able to see and process what’s happening, I’m even more stunned if that’s possible.

  Alex has Cal pinned up against the wall, his forearm against his throat. Cal’s eyes are as wide as saucers, but it’s Alex’s expression that causes me to pause. If there was ever a picture description of pure rage, this is it. His face is red, veins bulging out of his neck and forehead, eyes taking on a feral look as they bore into Cal’s, jaw is set tight as he talks through his teeth, and one hand is pulled back in a fist ready to connect with Cal’s face. I can only think of one word that depicts the way he looks right now.

  Deadly.

  “No!” I scream, running over to pull Alex off of Cal. “Stop!” Cal’s face is starting to turn red with the pressure being put on his throat, which is cutting off his airway.

  “You piece of fucking shit. You want to hit someone, tough guy? Come on, hit me.” He grits out each word through clenched teeth. Alex is so close to him that their noses are touching. He’s seething and I’m not sure what to do. Cal starts coughing, struggling to take in air. I pull on Alex’s arm trying to get him to release him. “I should end you, you worthless son of a bitch. How dare you think you can treat her like that.”

  “Alex!” I pull on his arm again with everything I have. “Please, stop!” His head turns in my direction; the anger in his eyes startling me. The warm, tender Alex is gone, and in its place is this raging monster. “For me, let him go,” I plead. Standing there holding my breath, I wait as he finally releases his hold on Cal. Cal lets out a huge gasp as he takes in air and falls to his knees.

  “That’s it, you’re done, buddy. You too, Elizabeth. I think you forget who pays for things around here,” Cal chokes out, his voice raw. He clutches his throat as he coughs some more.

  “Hey! Don’t you fucking threaten her! I don’t give a shit what you do to me. You lay your hands on her again I will drag you out in the middle of the goddamn street and beat the fuck out of you. Not even Elizabeth will be able to pull me off of you next time. You got it?” Alex’s voice booms and echoes through the kitchen, causing me to flinch. Cal hesitates for a moment, but then pulls himself off the floor, grabs his car keys and leaves the house, making sure to slam the door behind him.

  My knees give out and I crumble to the floor, the reality of everything hitting me all at once now that it’s over. My hands shake as the adrenaline starts to wear off and my face begins to throb. A strangled cry comes from deep within me. Alex sinks down in front of me and wraps his arms around my body, rocking gently back and forth.

  “I’ve got to call this in,” he says as he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. I shake my head rapidly.

  “No, you can’t do that.” I place my hand over his phone to prevent him from calling anyone.

  “You can’t be serious, Elizabeth. He just hit you in the face.” He looks at me in total horror and disbelief.

  “You don’t understand.” Tears streak down my face but not because of the physical pain, but for the emotional. I’m trapped in this hell with no way out now, and Cal knows it. He holds it over my head too, knowing that the people I care about are screwed without him.

  “Fine, then go upstairs and pack a bag. I’m getting you the hell out of here.” He stands, lifting me up
with him and starts toward the stairs.

  “I can’t leave him, Alex.” I can’t even look at him when I say this. Here I am, face bruised and swollen, telling someone who cares about me that I’m going to stay with a man who abuses me. He doesn’t stop walking and doesn’t say anything. He just continues walking toward the bedroom. When he gets there, he gently lays me on the bed, his thumb stroking my uninjured cheek tenderly. I want to look away from the intensity and emotion of his stare, but I can’t. I really wish I would’ve met Alex under different circumstances. Maybe we would’ve had a chance.

  “Talk to me, sweetheart. What’s going on in that mind of yours? I can get us out of here in ten minutes. Just let me take care of you. Please.” His pleading eyes search mine for the answer he seems to desperately want. My eyes close in relief that my Alex is back; the gentle, caring Alex. I never want to see him like he was with Cal again. Still, it makes it that much harder to deny him when all I want to do is give in and run away with him.

  “Oh God, Alex, if I could I would in a heartbeat. I wouldn’t think twice about running away with you. But it’s not just me that I have to worry about.”

  “Tell me so I can understand, because right now I can’t think of one damn reason to stay with a man that has more respect for a dog than his own wife.”

  “My mom, she’s sick. So if a little disrespect from my husband helps keeps her alive, then so be it.”

  Surprise flashes across his face. “Is she going to be okay? What’s wrong with her?” His face softens from the anger that was displayed moments ago. Now he just looks concerned.

  “She has multiple sclerosis and she’s doing alright for the time being.” I take a deep breath and start to sit up. Alex leans up with me to allow me to prop myself up on the headboard.

  “I want to hear this, but let me run down and get you some ice. You’re face is really swollen.” I nod and he jumps up and sprints downstairs. What will he think of me when I tell him why I stay? Will he see me as a gold digger? A woman who stays for some sort of monetary gain? I’m not sure why, but his opinion of me matters the most. A minute or so later, he returns. “Here. Hold that on your cheek.” I take the ice he has wrapped in a towel out of his hand and put it to my face. My face scrunches up with the pain of touching it. This must look horrible if it feels this bad. “You okay?” Again, I nod. “Tell me about your mom,” he says.

  “My parents don’t have health insurance and the medicine required to slow the MS down is very expensive.”

  “Most medicine is, but how expensive are we talking? A few hundred a month?” I actually laugh at his estimate. I wish it was only a few hundred a month. Hell, I’d be able to pay that on my own if that were the case.

  “No, not even close. Do you know what MS is, what it does to the body?” He shakes his head, so I continue. “It’s an auto immune disease. Basically, the body attacks the coating around your nerves, which results in the body not being able to send proper signals to the brain. Things like walking, talking, touch, memory, they’re all affected depending on where the legions are. There’s no cure, so the doctor’s goal is to stop it from progressing and try to put it in remission.”

  “Jesus, I’m so sorry. So she’s on a lot of meds to stop the progression?”

  “Not really. She only takes three medicines, but they’re really expensive. She’s doing this treatment where she goes in to get an infusion one day each month until it either goes into remission, or she dies. There’s a forty-percent chance it’ll be put in to remission. It’s a new drug, so she’s only been on it for four months. Anyway, that alone is fifty-six hundred dollars a month. Add in the other two medications she’s on, and it’s almost six thousand dollars a month.” I notice his eyes widen when I throw that number out at him.

  “Holy shit. That’s seventy-two thousand dollars a year!” I nod my head slowly. I’ve done the math countless times. I know exactly how much it is every year. “What happens if she doesn’t get the medicine?”

  “Then the disease will eventually completely debilitate her before killing her.”

  “Damn, and Cal pays for all of that?” He almost seems surprised by Cal’s generosity, but let’s not fool ourselves into believing he’s doing this because it’s the nice thing to do. No, he knows it would look horrible if the press ever found out my mother was dying of a disease because she couldn’t afford the medicine and Mr. Money Bags Fitzgerald did nothing to help her. Again, it’s all about appearances and strategy.

  “Yep, and because of that, I’m indebted to him. If I leave, she won’t get the treatment she needs and her deteriorating health and likely death will be on my hands. I’d gladly sacrifice my happiness so that my mother can live as full a life as possible in her condition.”

  At first, his only response is to shake his head. “I don’t know what to say. I want to throw you over my shoulder and carry you out of here so damn bad. But I get it, I understand why you live in misery now.” He rubs the back of his neck. “Fuck,” he says to himself. “So now what?”

  “Right now I’m going to put ice on my cheek, take some aspirin, and go to sleep.” He looks like he’s about to get upset again, so I hold up my hand to stop him. “It’s fine, Alex. I’m going to make sure I toe the line better in the future to keep him from lashing out at me again.”

  “Elizabeth, if he touches you again I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold back. I’ll likely end up in jail for killing him, and I’m not kidding.” Looking into his eyes and seeing the utter seriousness pouring out of them, I don’t doubt him for a second. He would hurt Cal, and bad too.

  “I’m not going to give him a reason to hit me and everything will be fine. Can we talk more later? I’m really tired and I just want to lie down.” Reluctantly, he gets off the bed. He leans over and whispers a kiss across my lips before moving over and lightly kissing my sore cheek. His gentleness never ceases to amaze me, and I have to suck back the tears that threaten to spill over. It’s been an emotional day and I’m exhausted.

  “I’m going to figure out a way for you to leave him, I swear it.” I shake my head and open my mouth to protest, but he covers my lips with his fingers. “Yes, I am. If it’s the last thing I do you will walk out of that door and be free from the burdens and abuses in your life. You deserve the world, and dammit, I’m going to do my best to give it to you.” Without another word or waiting for a response, he gets off the bed and leaves the room.

  Rolling over onto my side, I let the tears flow freely across my face and onto my pillow. I was holding on to such a small piece of myself through this marriage, clutching on to it with all my might. The piece that let me know that while a lot of my virtues and beliefs have been compromised, my dignity was still intact. That piece has been ripped from my stiff fingers, crashing to the ground. Now it’s like a dandelion blowing in the wind, the fragments never to be found again. And because I have to stay, I know that I’ll forever be lost too.

  THE NEXT MORNING when I wake up, I notice two things: my head feels like it’s been hit by a semi truck, and I’m burning up. I go to throw the covers off when my elbow hits a solid surface. I freeze, terrified that Cal came home and is in bed with me. Peeking one eye open, I slowly turn my head to see Alex laying beside me. He’s on top of the covers on his side facing me and still dressed in his clothes from yesterday. His boyish looks cause me to smile slightly, which I instantly regret when a sharp pain zaps the side of my face. Relaxing my features, I study the softness of his face in his slumbered state. A day’s old stubble coats his chin and I have to fight the urge to reach out and touch it.

  “It’s rude to stare,” Alex mumbles.

  “Jesus,” I say, my voice still clogged with sleep. “You scared the hell out of me.”

  Smiling, he opens his eyes slowly. “I gathered that.”

  “Did I wake you?” I sit up, my whole body feeling stiff from the stress of yesterday.

  “No, I’ve been awake for a while. I set some aspirin on the nightstand beside you.�
�� He nods his head gesturing to the side table.

  Picking up the pills and the glass of water, I swallow the medicine willing it to work instantly. Now that I’m up and awake, the pounding in my head is almost more than I can take. “I need to use the restroom.” Once I’m to the bathroom, the sight reflected back in the mirror startles me. I gasp and slowly bring my hand up to my face, wincing when I touch my bruise. My cheek has doubled in size, a myriad of colors marking the skin. Tears fill my eyes, unable to really deal with my appearance. Alex knocks before peeking in from behind the door.

  “Jesus, come here.” In a second his arms are wrapped around me while I cry into his chest. “It’s okay. I’m here for you, sweetheart. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you again, you understand?” All I can do is nod while I continue to cry.

  I pull away from his chest. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t prepared to see this,” I say as I wave at my face.

  “You don’t need to apologize. It’s taking all I have not to track that fucker down and beat him to a pulp for doing this to you.”

  I look into his eyes, seeing every emotion laid out for me. Anger, fear, worry, and something deeper that scares me to death. “Alex, I—” I pause, suddenly not sure what I’m going to say. I don’t get to finish though because the doorbell rings.

  “You stay here, I’ll get it.” Alex stands and leaves the bedroom. After a few moments, he returns. “It’s Aaron. If you’re not up to talking to him, I’ll make him leave, but he was pretty adamant about speaking with you.”

  “Is Cal with him?” He shakes his head. Taking a deep breath, I let it out and say, “You can bring him up.” I had a feeling I would hear from Aaron at some point today to do damage control. However, I didn’t expect him to show up. I look up when both men enter the room.

  “Fucking hell,” Aaron whispers. He scrubs a hand over his face and starts pacing. “Okay, you are not to leave this house until your face heals, understand?”

  “Excuse me? I’m not a prisoner.” Actually, I kind of am. I’m a prisoner to my marriage. Aaron stops pacing abruptly.

 

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