The Wife

by S.P. Cervantes

  Nurses and a doctor came into the room, pushing buttons on the machines to make the alarms go off and immediately swarmed me. They asked me questions and checked my pulse in record speed. My anxiety and confusion made me overcome with emotion and tears helplessly escaped my eyes. My throat felt as if it were lined with razors when I tried to speak again.

  “Daddy.” I reached for him.

  “I’m here, baby. I won’t leave your side.” His words were the only comfort until I felt a liquid surge through my veins, making my body calm and relax instantly.

  It was another few days before anyone told me what really happened, although all of the details are still a mystery, including who tried to kill me. As much as I’ve tried to remember what happened that night—anything to give a clue to help find the person who destroyed the ability for me to see out of my left eye and left the side of my face mangled from being blown halfway off—I have no memory of it.

  I allowed Mike to visit me the day before I was going to be released, feeling well enough to hear his side of things. As many lies as he’s told me and as much as he’s hurt me, I still needed to hear his side. I needed to believe the father of my children wouldn’t try to erase me from this earth. I believed, if for no other reason than selfishness, he wouldn’t have done that: if I was gone, he would have no one to take care of the boys he saw as prizes rather than responsibility.

  When he walked through the door and saw me, he fell to his feet in tears. “I’m so sorry, Alexa.”

  I began to cry too, thinking back to all of his lies that I was forced to be reminded of while the investigation is going on. I remember realizing his affair with Dr. Murphy for apparently the second time. I remember the lies and manipulation he used on me, making me feel as if I was going crazy, to hide his secrets. Both of them told me I needed to work on my jealousy in our therapy sessions. They made me feel like my marriage was disintegrating because of what I was doing.

  Now he’s at my bedside and the way he’s looking at me makes it hard to forget the years of happiness we had together and wonder where it all really went wrong. “What happened to us?” I asked helplessly.

  Mike took my hand in his. “I can’t live with myself if my mistakes cause me to lose you. I realize now, I don’t want to lose you. I love you, Alexa.” Mike’s gravelly voice tears at my heart. I can hear his pain in each syllable.

  Reality set in, and reminded me of why I was here, and his words reminded me of a time he told me the same thing, proving it to be a lie later. I wasn’t sure he even realized that his actions played a part in the reason I’m lying here.

  I take my hand back and look Mike square in the eyes. “You are the father of my children, the man I would’ve given my life for. If you have anything to do with what’s happened to me, then tell me. At least be man enough to do that. But know this…” My eyes narrow on him. “I will never love you again.”

  Mike looked defeated, and I couldn’t blame him. Not only has he lost his family, he’s being investigated for putting me here and stands to lose everything else. I can’t help but feel sorry for him. I loved him for so long; a love like that doesn’t just disappear. And as much as I want to know who’s responsible for what happened to me, I still hold on to hope that it’s not him, and I’m choosing to believe that until I’m proved wrong.

  I walk into my house with my dad and Lee at my side. Liam and Colin charge around the corner, with Rita following close behind. I don’t hold back my tears when I take my boys in my arms, ignoring my dad and Lee’s pleas for us to take it easy. I’m never taking it easy again. I’m cherishing every second of my life from now on, and not worrying about the pain in my head from their cheers. I’m choosing to relish in the joy of being able to stand here with them in my arms to experience the pain their cheers are bringing, making me remember I’m alive.

  I turn and look around my enormous entryway and think that the first thing I want to do is downsize. This house has always been too much for us. Maybe we can move back to New Jersey. I quickly stop the thoughts and remember to take one day at a time.

  Instead, I refocus on my surroundings and see that there are flowers and balloons in every direction as we make our way through the house. The boys excitedly lead me to the back patio, my favorite place to sit and relax.

  “Boys, why don’t you come and help me grab some drinks for everyone and let your mom get settled in?” Rita ushers the boys away, allowing me to regain my strength from the excitement. I’m so grateful to Rita and her husband for taking care of the boys and turning their lives upside down so that they could have the security of staying in their own home while I was in the hospital. Mike had agreed to supervised visitation with the boys while he was being investigated as a way to show his cooperation in the process, and I’m at least thankful for that. My dad has had to take care of so much when I wasn’t able to; I don’t know how I’ll ever repay him.

  “How you holding up?” he asks as Lee props my feet up on the lounge chair they had ready for me.

  I smile over at him and grab his hand. “I’m good.” I look to Lee and take her hand in mine, pulling her down to sit with me. “I’m so grateful for the two of you. I want you to know that. I couldn’t do any of this without you.”

  “Just don’t milk it too long,” Lee jokes through her tears.

  “We love you, sweetheart. We’re just so glad to have you home,” my dad says through his stifled tears.

  “I’m glad to be home,” I say, although the more I sit back here, the less at home I feel. I didn’t think about how being here would be such a powerful reminder of the tragic turn my life has taken.

  I may be alive and home, but my life will never be the same. I’m a single mom, with two boys to support and take care of. I have no job and am not sure when or if I’ll be able to work again, and I have a mangled face that would make it hard for anyone to love. No, my life wasn’t the same at all, but somehow it feels better than ever before.

  The one thing that keeps nagging at my mind is Jamie. Since my emotional breakdown when I came out of the coma, my visitors were limited to my dad and boys only. Lee told me that Jamie was at the hospital every day when I was in a coma, but I still haven’t heard from him and am a little afraid to ask why. The last time I saw him, it didn’t go well. But it was his voice, his words, real or not, that comforted me in my dreams and I want to thank him for that. I owe it to him after the way I treated him.

  When things happen in life like they happened to me, it puts things in perspective. I’ve had a lot of time to sit and think, and I realize now that I need to forgive Jamie and let him get off his chest everything he’s been trying to get me to listen to. I owe him that.

  “Lex.” His voice startles me from my daydream.

  I open my eyes to see Lee and my dad get up and walk away. Jamie’s body is illuminated like an angel as he approaches me with a hesitant smile. I laugh when I see him carrying a large bouquet of flowers with several balloons fluttering around his head.

  My laugh puts him at ease and he comes to my side, placing everything down next to me. “Wow, that’s some setup you’ve brought me.” I place my hand on his, making his eyes tear up.

  He clears his throat. “When I asked the boys which you’d like best, they said everything.” He smiles a little. “I brought a box of candy, too, but they’ve already confiscated it.”

  “I think you’ve been duped.” I try to lighten his mood.

  He moves to touch me and pulls his hand back, unable to hide his emotions behind our usual banter. “I’ve been so worried about you.”

  His eyes trace over me, and I’m reminded of the way I look. I immediately shuffle my position and try to cover the mangled side of my face with my hand. “I’ll be okay.” I smile and try to shrug off my insecurity. “Besides looking a little more like the monster from the black lagoon,” I say jokingly, referencing the silly movie we used to watch together in college.

  He doesn’t hesitate to touch me this time and takes my
hand, removing it from my face. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on, Lex.”

  No touch has ever felt so intimate and no words he could have ever said would’ve meant more than they did right then. “Jamie,” I say in a whisper when tears begin to fall.

  He looks around frantically. “No, I don’t want to make you cry. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

  “Shut up.” I laugh at his reaction.

  “What?” he asks, not sure he heard me correctly.

  I take his hand and pull him over to my chair. “I said shut up.” I’m switching between laughs and tears when his face contorts in confusion. I turn over his wrist and trace the tattoo he has written there. “What you said was perfect.”

  He smiles down at me and presses his head to mine like he used to. “I was so afraid to lose you again.” He squeezes my hand that is holding on to his. “I never want to lose you again.”

  I smile up at him and feel the dead piece of my heart beat again. He pulls me in his arms and holds me as we sit quietly together, my soul beginning to heal at a pace that I wish my body could match.

  It’s been six months since my shooting and there’s been little progress in figuring out who is responsible up until now. Much to my surprise, I received a call to come down to the police station, and I can only assume it is to discuss something about the case.

  Mike was cleared of all suspicion shortly after my release from the hospital, and that brought me some sense of peace. With all that he put me through, it was a comfort to know that the man I shared my life and children with wasn’t responsible for trying to kill me. So I had that going for me.

  Mike’s company was able to finish the work on Jamie’s restaurants, and he’s been working to get his business back on the straight and narrow. I know Jamie could’ve fired him, but he didn’t, and I know it was for me. I know he did it because Mike would’ve lost everything if he lost Jamie’s project, which in turn, would have also taken from the kids and me. Jamie believed in second chances and knew that giving Mike that second chance would assure he was able to also move on with a life where he can be there for our boys. They deserve that.

  Jamie offered to drive me to the meeting this morning, but I refused. He needs to be at the restaurant tonight for the opening. It’s a bittersweet time, because although the Rising Moon is the place that brought us together again, it will also always be a reminder of the worst time of my life.

  I have to say that Rising Moon has become a perfect name not just for the restaurant, but for this time of my life. The moon is light in the darkness. I fought through a lot of darkness in my life: my mom’s death, the loss of Jamie, the disintegration of my marriage, being shot in the head (that one still gets me). But I’ve risen out of it all. I made it through times that I never thought I could survive, and I’ve come out on the other side happier than ever.

  When I got home from the hospital, I needed to take the time to mourn my marriage and mourn my accident without the distractions and emotions that I knew would come with starting a relationship with Jamie that was anything but friendship. I wasn’t doing it to be difficult or to test him, and he understood. I needed to find myself again. I needed to focus on my boys and help them through the confusion and fear they have from what happened to my marriage and what happened to me. They needed to know that they came before anyone else.

  I needed to learn how to live my life again with the constraints of my new disabilities, and I needed to gain my sense of self and independence again. As much as I had no doubt my heart belonged to Jamie, I still asked him to wait for me.

  And he has.

  Every day, he’s made sure I wasn’t worrying that his love was wavering and showered me with his daily assurances of undying devotion. There hasn’t been a day since I returned home that he hasn’t made some gesture of affection—whether it be a handwritten letter or a song—and with each one, I fell more and more back in love with him. He’s stuck with me through my surgeries to try to repair some of the damage to my face and the scarring; he’s stood by and been at my side for every doctor’s appointment. Tonight, I want to stand at his side and let him know I’m ready to accept the love he’s offering.

  A siren from one of the police cars startles me and brings my thoughts back to the present as I pull up to the police station. I’m careful when I’m parking, still adjusting to having vision in one eye, and turn off the car. I’m ready to put this all behind me and start my life over, whether or not they ever find out who did this to me. I’ve come to accept that it could have been someone trying to carjack me or someone just wanting to cause harm. The dramatic idea of it being Mike or Stephanie was dismissed long ago. When the police interviewed Rita the night of my shooting, she told them about Mike’s affair and Jamie filled in the blanks that his affair was with my therapist. That immediately made them the top two suspects.

  When authorities learned that Stephanie was at his office the night of the shooting from reviewing surveillance footage from earlier in the night, they both folded and confessed to being together that night. They told police I seemed surprised to see them there, but was not surprised that they were having an affair. They said I told him that all I wanted was the kids, and walked away, putting back on one of Mike’s jackets I had arrived in and stormed out into the rain. They made no attempt to follow me or argue any further.

  They confessed that while I lay fifty feet away with a gunshot in my head—unknown to them—they had sex for the second time that night, and he only found my body when he ran out to her car to get another condom. It made me sick to hear these details, but it wasn’t surprising. I’m only glad that I don’t have to listen to evidence like that anymore.

  The only other suspects they were looking at were men that Jamie suggested they check out. He said he knew Mike was in some sort of trouble with them and had personally seen them threaten him at a business party. I knew the Paulsons and didn’t doubt they’d be capable of something this horrible, but why me? The evidence didn’t fit the crime. There was no way they could’ve known I was going to his office that time of night on that day. I rarely ever went to his office and never at night. The surveillance equipment was also tampered with at least an hour before I even arrived. I hadn’t even landed yet.

  That left a random act as the only option left, and I didn’t know which was worse to imagine. Either way, closure was my wish and my hope for today.

  I open the door to the station that’s become far too familiar. The noise in the bustling office was startling for those who didn’t expect it. I expected it. Phones are ringing and people are yelling; it’s organized chaos at its best.

  I walk directly back to Detective James’s office and lightly knock on the door, noticing he’s talking on his phone and wanting to give him privacy before I walk in. He smiles up at me and waves me in, quickly ending the call, and gets up to shake my hand.

  “Thanks for coming down, Mrs. Brock. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Water?”

  I smile politely, wanting to get straight down to the reason I’m here. “No, thank you. I’m just eager to hear why you asked me down today.”

  “Right, right.” He shuffles the papers in front of him and places his glasses on as he examines the papers in front of him. “As you know, in our last meeting we said we’d exhausted our last lead and didn’t have much else to go on.”

  My heart sinks. I know what’s going to come next: they’re going to put the investigation on the back burner. “I understand.” I swallow hard, trying to hold back my disappointment.

  He shifts in his seat and hands me a grainy picture. I look at it, unsure of what I’m supposed to be seeing. Detective James leans forward, pointing at a car that’s parked in front of a 7-Eleven. “I still kept going back to that surveillance video and trying to recover anything I could from all angles of the building, but there was nothing. I didn’t even see your car enter the parking lot.” He taps at the picture again. “Then I decided to go back over the surveillance
video of surrounding businesses again and found this.” He sits back in his seat as if he’s just explained everything.

  “And what is it that I’m looking at?” I say with a mixture of confusion and excitement.

  “That’s a car that belongs to Bob Stevens.” He sits back again, proud of himself, leaving me to fill in the blanks.

  “Is he the man you think shot me?” I ask, not expecting such an unfamiliar name would fill me with such fear. The more I hear, the more I wish I had asked Jamie or Lee to come here with me.

  He ignores my question. “The car pulled in to the parking lot approximately twenty minutes before we determine the shooting occurred. Here, look at the time on this picture.” He pulls out a zoomed-in picture, revealing two grainy figures talking by the car, and my heart thumps with anticipation. “The car comes back exactly two minutes after the time of the shooting and was speeding like a madman. He stopped and took something from none other than that man and sped away.” He pulls one last picture to reveal a face I knew.

  “Mark Paulson,” I say in disbelief. I recognized his pictures from the many times his name had been brought up before because he was one of the men that Mike confessed to owing money to for a business deal gone wrong.

  “After digging a little more, we found out what was really going on between the Paulsons and your ex-husband.” Detective James places more pictures in front of me but I only listen to his words. “The Paulsons suspected your husband was stealing from them, and had proof that he laundered hundreds of thousands of dollars from them on several contracts they worked on together over the years.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t understand. Even if Mike was stealing from them, we already decided that there was no way for them to have known and planned for my location that night the way they did.”

  “That’s because they didn’t plan to kill you. They planned to kill your husband that night.” He remembers I have no memory at all of the night and fills in the blanks. “It was raining the night you were shot, probably the worst storm we’d had in years. It was nighttime. You were wearing Mike’s clothing. Your head was covered with a hoodie. All of these factors—the bad visibility, the adrenaline rush—made it nearly impossible to know he was shooting you and not your husband.”