The Ex Files

by Victoria Christopher Murray

  The thought of better days with her sister almost made Kendall smile. She would have, if she hadn’t needed the effort to push back tears that tried to come to her eyes. It surprised her, the way she still wanted to cry for Sabrina…and Anthony.

  She’d never been able to figure out who’d hurt her most. She’d loved Anthony with every beat of her heart, so sure that not until death would they part.

  But Sabrina’s betrayal sucked the blood straight from her. Her own sister. Some people called Sabrina her half sister; together, for sure, they’d made a whole. Even if their beginnings, over thirty years ago, had been as scandalous as their end.

  Kendall still remembered the whispers, her mother’s tears, the slamming of doors. It had terrorized the six-year-old; especially the nights when she would sneak from her bedroom and find her father stretched out on the couch. She was too scared to ask what was wrong, so she did what any child would do—she promised God that she would do better so that her Mommy and Daddy could be happy again.

  Then, days before her seventh birthday, her father came home with a baby. Together her parents introduced her to her new sister, Sabrina. The wiggling, gurgling infant excited her and when her father told her to sit down so that she could hold the baby, Kendall had fallen in love; she had a real live baby doll. It was the best birthday gift she could imagine.

  But by the time she was ten, she came to understand that the gift she thought Sabrina was, actually was a nightmare to her mother. It was her best friend, Brandy, who’d told her the truth.

  “Girl, your father was out screwing that white woman who lived around the corner and they had a baby. And then her family made your father take the baby because the baby was too black for them! So, Sabrina ain’t really your sister. In fact, my mother said—”

  Kendall had run home before she heard any more. It didn’t matter—that truth didn’t lessen her love for her sister. Even though they were almost seven years apart, many kidded that they were twins. Sabrina wanted to be just like her big sister—walking like her, talking like her, dressing like her. And the older sister loved the adoration of the younger one. Over the years, their closeness grew—or so Kendall thought.

  Kendall slammed the door to her car and her memories. There was no need to think about a sister who, to her, was no longer alive.

  Using her keys, she entered the house, and called out “Daddy” the moment she stepped inside.

  The sound of his slippers scuffling against the hardwood floor made her smile.

  “Baby girl?”

  Inside the rich bass of Edwin Leigh’s voice there was nothing but the memory of the best of times.

  He hugged her, held her as if he hadn’t seen her last week. “Let me look at you.” He peered over his glasses.

  She loved seeing her father, but each week, he looked as if he’d aged another year. She was sure that it was the death of her mother—part grief, part guilt—that still rested heavily over him, even twenty years later. He was still in love with his deceased wife and that’s why not even the craftiest of church women had made inroads with Edwin; most had stopped trying years ago.

  “So, what have you got there?” He grabbed the bags and shuffled toward the kitchen.

  “Everything you asked for, and dim sum.”

  He laughed. “That’s a good one.” He pointed to the table. “Sit down; I’ll handle this.”

  She shrugged off her coat and paused. A déjà vu kind of moment: She could feel eleven-year-old Sabrina sitting at the table, dutifully completing her homework. She could see her sister—her hair pushed back with a headband that matched the one Kendall was wearing, hunched over her notebook, struggling through algebra, determined to get straight A’s like her big sister. She could hear Sabrina’s exclamation, “I wanna go to UCLA just like you, Kendall!”

  Kendall sank into the dining room chair, but didn’t let go of that memory. It had been a bittersweet time. Kendall was the first in the family to attend college. Edwin and Sabrina had been so proud. But her mother, who had always told her that she was a star, hadn’t lived to see the day—passing away from a major heart attack on her and Edwin’s twentieth wedding anniversary.

  “This is some feast,” Edwin boasted, interrupting his daughter’s jaunt down memory lane. He handed her a plate; the steam from the rice, vegetables, and shrimp caressed her.

  She grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator, then held her father’s hand as he blessed the food.

  He picked up his egg roll, took a bite, and asked the same question he did every week, “How are things at that business of yours?”

  She gave him the same smile, same answer. “Fine.”

  And then came the words she couldn’t hear enough, “Have I ever told you that I’m proud of you?”

  She grinned. “All the time, Daddy.”

  “Yup,” he began, taking another bite, “I’m proud of both of my girls.”

  She pressed her lips together and prayed those words would be the beginning and the end.

  But even in the silence, his words stayed, as if he were repeating them over and over.

  Finally, “Baby girl…”

  His tone alone made her moan. “Daddy, please. I don’t want to talk about this.”

  “Well, we have to talk about this and a lot more tonight.” Kendall pushed her plate away. This was why he’d wanted dinner here. Better to attack her at home than in public.

  He said, “I know you don’t want to hear this….”

  “I don’t.” She crossed her arms. Began planning her escape. Wondered how she could walk out without making her father mad.

  He continued, “You know…”

  She knew one of two things was coming—either he’d start talking about how he wasn’t going to be around much longer or he’d play the God card.

  “My days on earth are numbered….”

  “Daddy,” she whined.

  “And when I’m gone, you and Sabrina will only have each other.”

  “If she’s all I have, then I’m fine with being alone.”

  Her father let his disapproval rest in the quiet for a moment. “You’ve forgiven Anthony.”

  “How can you even say that?”

  His eyebrows rose in a look that told her to watch her tone. “Well, at least you speak to him.”

  “Because I have to. For the business. It’s nothing more than that.” She paused. Remembered the good thoughts—of her and Anthony—that she’d had for days now. “Don’t be fooled, Daddy. I feel the same way about Anthony that I feel about Sabrina.” She paused again. Thought about Anthony and herself together some more. “They both betrayed me; I don’t want to have anything to do with either one of them.”

  After a moment, “Baby girl,” Edwin began softly, “I’m worried about you. You’re holding on to so much anger.”

  “What do you expect? How is a woman supposed to feel when she finds out that her husband has been cheating?”

  His eyes filled with memories and Kendall knew he was thinking about her mother. Thinking about how he’d made her feel when he’d had his affair—that resulted in Sabrina.

  “Kendall,” he began and then stopped.

  It made her heart pound. The way he’d called her Kendall instead of baby girl. The way he’d halted his words. The way his eyes now held more than the sadness of what happened between his daughters a year ago.

  “Daddy, what is it?”

  “There’s something I have to tell you, but I’m not sure this is a good time.”

  She shrugged. “You might as well tell me because it’s not like I’m going to forget any of this anytime soon.”

  He nodded, understanding, not agreeing.

  “Baby girl, I saw Sabrina today. Sabrina and Anthony.”

  She folded her arms. Their names spoken together made her pain rise. How could her sister date her ex-husband? This was some Jerry Springer crap for sure.

  She sat stiffly and stared at her father. Something—sadness, dread, fear—s
at behind his eyes. Made him look like he was stricken with grief.

  “Sabrina and Anthony came over here to tell me something.”

  It took a moment for her to notice that every part of her was shaking.

  “They wanted me to know first,” Edwin continued, “and, wanted to know the best way to tell you.” He inhaled. “They’re engaged, baby girl. They’re getting married.”

  She wondered if Jerry Springer paid his guests—that was her first thought. And then she wondered how she was supposed to live the rest of her life with this news. Her heart cracked—right in the place where she’d hidden her hope of becoming Anthony’s wife again.

  “Are you okay?” Edwin reached for her.

  No, her insides screamed. She would never be okay again. She was the woman who was supposed to be married to Anthony. Not Sabrina.

  “I’m so sorry, Kendall. But the one thing I saw today was that Anthony and Sabrina really love each other.”

  “Anthony loved me,” she squeaked. “How can he love Sabrina now?”

  Edwin shook his head. “Sometimes, there’s just no explanation for love. Sometimes, the heart doesn’t listen to the head. Sometimes, the heart just does what it wants to do.”

  “How could they?”

  “I think they tried to stay away from each other because of you. But they’re in love. Real love. I saw it.” He covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry, baby girl.”

  She could feel the sobs coming, but she fought hard. Held them in. She would not shed a tear over either one of them. But still, she trembled.

  She jumped from the chair. Edwin reached for her, but she slipped away. Grabbed her coat and purse.

  “Wait!” Edwin pushed his chair back. “Don’t leave.”

  “I have to.” She rushed into the living room.

  “Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

  “And where am I supposed to sleep? In the room that I shared with Sabrina?” She almost gagged on those words. And then she thought about where she was going. Home. To the place that she’d shared with her man. Her husband who was now going to be her brother-in-law. “I can’t stay here.”

  “Okay, but before you leave”—Edwin grabbed her hand—“let’s pray.” She snatched her hand away. “Only God can help you get through this, baby girl. You have to find a way to make peace with this. Let God help you.”

  If her heart hadn’t been cracked, she would have laughed. “You want me to go to God? The same God who allowed this to happen?” She tossed her purse onto the sofa and paced. “All that stuff in the Bible about when God puts two people together, they’ll never come apart. That’s a lie!”

  “Watch it, Kendall.”

  “Where was God when Sabrina and Anthony were f—”

  Before she could say the word, Edwin held up his hand, stopped her from cursing. “I won’t have that kind of language in here, young lady. I won’t tolerate it and neither will God.”

  “Like I care what God thinks.”

  “You think God wasn’t there when it first happened with Sabrina and Anthony? I can tell you that God was right there, saddened by the whole thing. Just like He was there when your mother and I went through our problems. But God can heal. He was the reason your mother and I stayed together.”

  “Bad example, Daddy, because obviously God didn’t do as good a job for me.”

  “He’s still there for you. He’ll give you the strength to handle this.”

  “I don’t need God.” She grabbed her purse. “I don’t need anyone.”

  “How can you say that? When you were raised with Him?”

  She marched to the door.

  He said, “So you prefer to hold on to your anger?”

  She paused, her hand on the doorknob. “It’s no longer anger, Daddy. It’s hate.” The door crashed against the wall as she swung it open. “You’d better tell Sabrina to stay far away from me.”

  Inside her car, she couldn’t steady her hands; the steering wheel shook with her emotions. She sat, staring at the home where she’d once felt so much love.

  The living room curtains fluttered; her father came into view. She turned the ignition and backed out of the driveway, screeching the tires as she pulled away.

  For twenty-five minutes, she gasped, and moaned, and cried—but only on the inside. Through her grief, she could see her husband, smiling, her sister, smiling. In her mind, even her father smiled. And she wanted to weep. But, she would not cry.

  Her head and her heart ached by the time she hit the garage remote on her Malibu home. Miles separated her from her father, but distance couldn’t keep away his words.

  They’re engaged.

  And then…

  You have to find a way to make peace.

  Well, peace was not what she wanted. It was official—Sabrina and Anthony were the enemy. And there was only one way to handle their kind of duplicity. It was the law of the streets where she’d grown up. You paid for betrayal with your life.

  Chapter Fourteen

  VANESSA

  It felt as if she might never sleep again. This was the third night that she hadn’t been able to close her eyes for more than a couple of hours of restful slumber.

  Vanessa rolled to the other side of the bed and inhaled Reed’s lingering scent. She pushed her head into his pillow and sobbed into the space where, for the last twelve years, her husband had rested his head next to hers. How was she supposed to make it through this night, tomorrow night, or any night? She was filled to the top with pain.

  Her cries continued until she wondered if her tears would wash away his memory that still remained, though slight, on the sheets.

  She wiped her eyes, raised herself up, and swung her legs onto the floor.

  It was then that she heard his voice.

  If we buy this bed, you’re going to need a ladder.

  The sound of him in her mind almost made her smile as she remembered the words he’d spoken six years before.

  “This bed is too big for you.” He’d teased her almost every day.

  As she slid from the bed now, she closed her eyes, willing her mind to give her more. She needed more. When nothing else came, she rushed to his closet, slid aside the mirrored door, and inhaled. She lifted the sleeves to one of his shirts and breathed in more of him. For minutes she stood, stroking his clothes, resting in his memory.

  It wasn’t enough.

  Even though the house was darkened by the midnight hour, Vanessa didn’t turn on any lights as she roamed from her bedroom into the guest room that doubled as Reed’s office. She sank into the soft leather of the high-back executive chair she’d bought for him last Father’s Day. He’d been shocked with surprise.

  “A Father’s Day gift? Why?”

  “We may not have any children, but you’re the best uncle and godfather and big brother there is. Happy Father’s Day, sweetheart.”

  Now, as her fingers caressed the computer, she remembered, that’s how it had always been with them. They made up their own rules, their own traditions. He’d bring her flowers because it was Tuesday. She’d cook a five-course meal because it was his “forty-second and a half” birthday.

  “It’s just you and me, baby,” he said often. “There’s the world, and then there’s you and me.”

  Which was why this didn’t make sense to her now. He would never leave her to tackle this life alone.

  She jumped from the chair and dashed back to their bedroom. From the nightstand, she pulled out her Bible and opened to the first page of Song of Solomon, where she’d tucked the note.

  She already knew the words by heart; she’d memorized every crooked line and every scratch that Reed had etched onto the paper. As her eyes wandered over his words, she tried to catch a clue, tried to imagine what he’d been thinking, feeling.

  Vanessa, I had to do this…for me. I will always love you. Reed. P.S. Please don’t be mad.

  That was it. Not even twenty words. Not even an explanation. Nothing to help her understand.

/>   “Why didn’t you take me with you?” she cried.

  She waited in the quiet dark for his answer. But only the still of the night surrounded her, and finally, she returned the note to its place and set the Bible next to Reed’s photograph on the nightstand.

  She picked up the frame that held his picture. Just his photo could make her heart swoon. Reed Martin was the walking definition of a man; he was tall (six feet two inches), dark (the same color as the walnut armoire in her mother’s living room), and handsome (in a strong African way.) He was her Mandingo. Yet in the end, he hadn’t stood like a warrior.

  She slid under the covers. Only two hours remained before the light of dawn would appear. Could she make it for two more hours?

  You can make it. It was her heart that spoke.

  But always, her head responded, If you do it, you won’t hurt anymore.

  “God,” she began to pray, “it does hurt; it hurts too much. I can’t do this. I can’t live without Reed. He was the man you gave to me to live the rest of my life with and I’m not supposed to be here without him. Lord, please take me, too.”

  You can make it.

  Her heart rocked her with those words.

  You can make it.

  Soothed her, calmed her, until she closed her eyes. And for the first time in three days, she slept.

  Chapter Fifteen

  KENDALL

  With a long yawn, Kendall tossed her garment bag into the backseat of her Jeep. She closed the door, then pressed her weight against the car. Last night she’d seen the clock tick past every hour. But still, when the day’s first light hit her bedroom, she’d jumped up, needing to get away from her thoughts of revenge, which were so thick, they carried their own stench. She hadn’t even taken time to dress, deciding to shower and change at the office.

  Kendall zipped her sweat suit jacket before she pressed Open on the garage remote, but before she took two steps, she stopped, frozen. Just stared. At the black Jeep that was edged against the curb across the street.

  The window lowered. Seconds ticked. And then her face was in full view. Her sister sat stiff; then slowly, the corners of her lips curved slightly upward. Sabrina opened the door, stepped out. But then, moved no closer.