The Life You Stole

by Ann, Jewel E.

  Lila relinquished a sad smile. “I know. But sometimes family hides the truth to protect the ones they love for as long as they can.”

  I wanted to say, “Not us.” I wanted us to swear we would never keep anything from each other, but I couldn’t. And Lila didn’t suggest a complete honesty pact either, which meant I wasn’t the only one holding back a piece of the truth.

  Sometimes we loved with lies and protected with sins.

  “Yes.” I returned a single slow nod. “Sometimes we start wars and throw ourselves into the line of fire to protect the ones we love. But let’s try to avoid starting a war and stay out of the line of fire.”

  Lila rested her good hand on mine and squeezed it. “Agreed.”

  On my way back to Aspen, I called my mom.

  You’ve reached Corey and Madeline. We’re too lazy to answer your call. Please leave a message.

  I redialed three times and ended the call before it gave me the chance to leave a message. Her voice. It was all I had left of her. When I heard it, the reality of her death didn’t seem possible. I mean … she was right there on the other end of the line.

  Happy.

  Healthy.

  Alive.

  After the fourth time calling her, I left a message. “Hi, Mom. Are you tired of my crazy messages? I hope not. Maybe you should be glad that you’re not here to deal with my life right now. It’s so weird … having everything yet feeling like every day is a struggle. I don’t know how to put the pieces of my life together. So I try to focus on the kids. I know that’s what you would have done. It’s what you did. Even when you were sick, you focused on me and Katie. Franz and Anya. Sometimes the only truth I can still feel is that you raised me to be a good mom. I wish I could be to Ronin what I am to the kids. He’s in so much pain. I see it even when he tries to hide it. Maybe it’s Lila, but I don’t see the same pain on her face. Maybe it’s something more … something beyond our control. But I feel like …”

  I wiped a few tears. “I feel like I’m losing him a little every day. So I hug my babies, and I tell myself over and over that they are enough. It pains me to imagine a life without Ronin, but I feel so helpless. And if I’m honest, I’m just tired. I’m tired of not knowing what version of my husband will walk through the door. Not knowing where he is or who he’s with. I’m tired of feeling responsible for Graham and Lila. I just … some days I just want to pack up the kids and leave. Maybe go stay with Dad or find a beach where I can cast away my pain into the vast ocean. I don’t know …” I sighed. “Franz is out of school. I’ll figure this out. But I appreciate you being here for me. I feel you. Your smile. Your arms around me. Your voice reminding me to take it one day at a time. I love you, Mom. And I miss you beyond words.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Ronin

  Lila had cancer.

  I had lies. The healthy man’s cancer.

  Something had to give. I just feared it would be Evelyn … giving up on me. She gave me my space. Too much space. We worked. Played with the kids. Cooked and cleaned. And at night we crawled into the same bed, but it felt empty. I hoped in a parallel universe we were making love and living our intended life of bliss. Maybe in that other universe I didn’t feel Lila. God … I hoped so.

  In spite of her telling me that Lila seemed better when she last saw her, I knew the truth. I felt the truth. Nearly a month had passed since I’d been with Lila, and it showed in my level of enthusiasm for life. I called her twice, but she wasn’t available to see me. Starting her own engineering firm consumed her time. That and trips for treatment. I didn’t know how she did it or why Graham encouraged her when she clearly had no business doing anything but focusing on beating cancer.

  “I think I’m taking the kids to California for Thanksgiving. I want to see Katie and my dad.” Evelyn packed Franz’s lunch as I packed my own lunch while Anya slept and Franz brushed his teeth.

  “How long are you thinking? I’m not sure how much time I can get off.”

  She shrugged without looking up from the two slices of bread on the counter. “I’m not sure. I might let Franz miss a little school so we can stay out there for maybe … two weeks. I’m interviewing someone today to help Sophie at the store, so I should have plenty of coverage.”

  “There’s no way I can take two weeks off around Thanksgiving, especially if we get the amount of snow they’re predicting.”

  “That’s fine.”

  I slid my sandwich and salad into my thermal bag and leaned my hip against the counter. Evie calmly spread peanut butter onto the bread.

  “It’s fine that I can’t get time off or fine if I don’t go at all? Come to think of it, you did use the word I instead of we. Do you not want me to go?”

  “It’s up to you.”

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  She wrapped his sandwich and packed it in his lunch box before giving me a direct look. “I don’t want you to go,” she whispered as Franz barreled down the hall toward the kitchen.

  It hurt. Maybe more than Lila’s pain—at least my heart felt a direct hit.

  “Let’s go, Daddy!”

  “Shh …” I held my finger to my mouth. “I’m coming. Put on your shoes.” I grabbed his lunch box and stuffed it into his backpack.

  Evie crossed her arms over her robe-clad chest and stared at her feet. We needed something. I was tired of just existing. But suggesting I spend Thanksgiving away from my family was not the answer. I couldn’t believe she suggested it.

  “Will Sophie be at the shop with you today?”

  She nodded, giving me a two-second glance.

  “Meet me at Grinds at noon.”

  Another nod.

  The rejection hurt and the suppressed anger I saw in Evie that morning poisoned my blood. I swore my heart stopped beating correctly. My body moved from one task to another, but I couldn’t focus on anything but those words she whispered to me. By the time I made it to Grinds, Evie was already there sitting in our favorite booth, sipping her coffee and picking at a piece of coffee cake. I ordered a drink and wormed my way to the back of the cafe.

  “Hey.” I pulled out the chair across from her.

  She returned a sad smile, more like a cringe. “Hey.”

  “Two kids and close to six years of marriage and I’m already being disinvited from Thanksgiving with your family. Not going to lie, Evie, I didn’t see that coming.”

  “I need some space,” she murmured, gaze stuck to her cup of coffee. That made it exponentially worse—she couldn’t look at me for more than a blink, maybe two.

  “Space? We’re away from each other for a good eight to ten hours—five, sometimes six, days a week. We take care of the kids and the dog without saying more than a dozen words to each other in the evening. And even on the weekends you find some excuse to run to the shop or take a two-hour hike by yourself. We have space, Evelyn. Maybe too much space. And I’m trying to work my way out of this depression or whatever’s been dragging me down. But I’m not walking away. And I’m sure as hell not doing it on Thanksgiving.”

  “I can’t breathe, Ronin. When I’m at work, I hold my breath, wondering if you’ll be better or worse. When I’m at home, I tiptoe around you, putting on this “we’re-okay” act for the kids, all while holding my breath. And I lie in bed at night for hours, just listening to you breathe, wondering if we’ll ever be the same. Still … holding my breath. So maybe it’s not space that I need, maybe it’s distance. And maybe you need some distance too. Maybe part of your depression is the feeling, consciously or subconsciously, that you’re being rushed to feel better, suffocated to act like everything is fine when it’s not.”

  I started to speak, but I had nothing to say. Her painful assessment of our current situation wasn’t wrong.

  “Fuck …” I rested my elbows on the table and ran my fingers through my hair. “I’m sorry … I’m just so incredibly sorry. Sometimes I think I should have chosen to accept the short life this time around. The pain. As much
as I try to contain it, shield you from it, I can’t. I’m cursed and it’s ruining my whole life.”

  She reached for my arm. “No one has been ruined. I’m not leaving you. I’m not giving up on us. I just need a little break to find myself again, to recharge my battery. This mom gig is exhausting, and you added to my responsibilities by bringing home a dog.”

  “Evie—”

  “No. I’m not mad about that … anymore. Mrs. Humphrey is a great dog, and the kids love her. I’m only making my case for needing a break. I might even see if Katie and my dad will watch the kids so I can drive down the coast and truly have some me time to do a lot of things I’ve needed to do.”

  Grieve her mom. That was what she meant. I wanted her to have that too, but it still stung. My failures as a husband lingered in my conscience. I never thought this could happen to us. We had the perfect life.

  “I’m going to see a doctor again. See if they can give me something.”

  Evie nodded, rubbing her lips together. Her skepticism showed, even if she held back her words. I wasn’t hopeful either. It was like trying to cure Lila’s cancer by me going through chemotherapy and radiation. Antidepressants weren’t going to numb me everywhere like opioids. They were going to simply fuck with things that weren’t out of balance. I knew they weren’t a happy pill. I also knew I needed to prove to my wife that I was doing everything I could to fix our situation.

  Lila … I needed Lila.

  “Oh, hey!”

  I closed my eyes. Someone was out to get me. Really … I should have died as a child. That slow death crap and torturing of my family had to stop. Opening my eyes, I turned to the cheery voice. “Adrianne, hey. We’re kinda in the middle of a private conversation.” Rude? Yes. Desperate? Hell yes.

  Evelyn’s icy demeanor intensified. She eyed Adrianne but said nothing. The look on her face said it all—she hated her.

  “I won’t keep you. I have to get going too. I just wanted to see how Bella’s doing. I know it’s presumptuous of me to assume you named her Bella. Either way, do Franz and Anya love her?”

  Kill me. Just fucking kill me now!

  “Yes. They do. See ya around.” I tried so hard to keep the tower of lies from crashing to the ground.

  Evelyn narrowed her eyes at Adrianne and then at me. She didn’t know, but realization raced to the finish line while I choked on my words.

  Adrianne, however, had no problem articulating her words, which sounded like she wanted to ruin my marriage.

  “Bernese Mountain Dogs are just the best. Ronin told me you two were thinking of getting a dog. I couldn’t help myself. Ronin has done so much for me.”

  Those three sentences translated to: I just stopped by your table to completely fuck up your marriage. Have a nice day.

  Evelyn pushed her chair back and stood, slinging her purse over her shoulder.

  Not one look in my direction.

  Not one word.

  “Oops … did I do something wrong?”

  I ignored Adrianne as I chased after Evelyn. She took a sharp right after exiting the cafe, cutting through an alley toward Clean Art.

  “Stop!” I grabbed her arm and she jerked it out of my grip, jaw set, hands clenched, and eyes brimming with tears.

  “She gave you that dog? You brought home a dog from a whore. What the fuck is wrong with you?” With one blink, tears covered her face. “What exactly have you done for her—with her—that’s made her feel so indebted?”

  “You know the answer to that.” My words came out a little harsher than I intended. We were cracked in many places from the heavy strain of life always bearing down on us, but we weren’t broken. Suggesting I was having an affair meant she thought we were broken.

  Evelyn shook her head. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

  “I didn’t ask her to get the dog. She just showed up and shoved it in my face. It’s a dog.”

  “No. It’s a lie. And since when are you so weak that you can’t resist when someone shoves something in your face? What else has she shoved in your face that you can’t resist?”

  “This!” I grabbed her shoulders and made her look at me. “This is how she ruined so many marriages. You said it yourself. She didn’t even have to fuck the men she pursued; she just had to make it look bad, cast doubt, drive wedges. We’re better than this and you know it.”

  “But she did …” Evelyn whispered. “She slept with a lot of those men. Good men. Family men. Men who no one thought would ever cheat on their wives. They just couldn’t say no.” She wriggled out of my grip and took long strides down the ally.

  I followed her, grasping for what emotional energy I could muster. “I am not having an affair. And if you believe that, then the last six years have meant nothing. Would you just stop and look at me?”

  “No!” She jerked away again when I reached for her hand. “You don’t get to force this. You don’t get to shove yourself in my face. I can say no. And right now the answer is no. I don’t want to hear what you have to say. You had a chance to say it the day you brought Mrs. Humphrey home. You’ve had weeks to say it since then. Honesty after you get caught means nothing.”

  I let her go. Temporarily … I let her go. But instead of calling my doctor to beg for some drug I didn’t need, I called Lila.

  “Hey, Ronin.”

  “I need to see you.”

  “Oh. I have a lot—”

  “Jesus, Lila …” I ran a hand over my head. “I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t really fucking desperate.”

  “Are you and Evelyn okay?”

  “No.” I leaned against the side of the building.

  “Do you think it’s a good idea to do this if you and Evelyn are having issues?”

  I didn’t answer.

  “Ronin?”

  “Lila …” Her name broke from my aching chest.

  “Tomorrow. But you’ll have to be here early. I have an appointment in the afternoon.”

  Lila

  “I have to cancel my trip. Please take me back home,” I asked my driver after talking with Ronin. My three-day trip to meet with a potential client from Chicago could wait. Ronin couldn’t. And I owed him my life. If he needed me for a few hours, it was a price I could pay.

  My depression lingered, in spite of Graham’s extraordinary efforts to fix our marriage. He hadn’t laid a hand on me in weeks, but I sensed his growing anger. Anger at what? I had no idea. But it leaked through in clipped words and clenched fists when I asked one too many questions about simple things like his whereabouts.

  We agreed my cancer treatment would be successful. I would go into remission and it would never return. Problem solved.

  Evie never needed to know, and Ronin could let go of his guilt over keeping the secret.

  As for our sex life … I wasn’t ready to revisit it. I wanted to trust Graham and forgive him, but I couldn’t. He’d made several attempts to come into my bedroom, acting sweet and seductive. It always ended with me clamming up, feeling repulsed by his touch. I didn’t say those words. Instead, I kept asking for a little more time.

  He never forced himself on me, but I swear I saw it in his eyes … the monster teetering on the edge of control.

  “Oh, hello Mrs. Porter.” Wendy, our maid glanced up from the floor where she worked to scrub black scuff marks. “I was told you were out of town.”

  I smiled. “Change of plans.”

  “Ah, well, it’s a rare day that I get to see you and Mr. Porter.”

  “When did you see him?”

  Graham left early every morning. Aside from our cook and his driver, the rest of the staff rarely saw him.

  “He arrived about an hour ago. Went straight to his office. Said he wasn’t to be disturbed.”

  “Oh. Okay.” I contemplated going upstairs. My basic instinct continued to be avoiding Graham. However, sometimes playing the offensive worked best. Tell him my meeting was rescheduled at the last minute. Avoid an unexpected visit to my room later with twenty questions. If he
didn’t want to be disturbed, he’d most likely give me a quick, “Okay. Whatever.”

  I grabbed for the gold lever knob to his office.

  “Fuck yes … wider … take it all.” Graham’s husky voice bled through the door.

  I froze before opening the door.

  I knew that voice. I knew those words.

  My stomach twisted. On the other side of the door my husband was cheating on me. I wasn’t sure what hurt the most—the betrayal or my lack of surprise. Confirmation of what I’d always suspected.

  The tiny, barely audible voice in my head that represented what little bit of self-preservation I still possessed told me to go pack my bags and be a million miles down the road before he emerged from his office. Before they emerged from his office. The louder voice in my head convinced me to open the door, to be courageous enough to face reality so he couldn’t twist it, deny it.

  I inched open the door, one, maybe two inches, my world ending as I held my breath. It wasn’t what I thought. In fact, I couldn’t make sense of the scene before me.

  Graham leaned back in his desk chair, stroking himself—lips parted, gaze glued to the TV screen on the wall adjacent to his desk, above the fireplace.

  He grunted the way he did as he approached an orgasm. Only, it wasn’t him in the chair. The sound came from the TV. My gaze shifted to the screen as he jerked off, oblivious to the cracked open door and my prying eyes.

  The screen was fairly dark, except for the two people by the bed, dimly lit by a single nightstand light.

  Her on her knees with her back to the camera. Graham with his dick in her mouth and his hand fisting her nearly white hair as he pumped into her. All I could think in that moment was, had I not known better, I could have thought it was Evelyn on her knees. The hair matched. The lithe figure. The way he looked at her.