My Dear Stranger
“I forgive you for making me have Jamie.”
“You love Jamie.”
“I know I do! That's why I forgive you! You're lucky I fell in love with him the second I met him. You're really lucky I loved him the second he was placed on my chest because I don't know what I would have done if I hadn't loved him.”
“What do you mean?” Alex asks as he leans in closer to me and touches my hand.
“You know EXACTLY what I mean.”
“I don't.”
“You do. I know you do.”
And now we're at an impasse. I know he knows. And he knows I know he knows. We each know the reality we pretend we don't know, but we know. We know, but neither of us wants to say it.
“What do you mean, Sadie?” Cheryl asks quietly beside me. Staring at Alex I forgot Cheryl was even here. Staring at Alex I see him sitting there and I feel so sad for him. He loves me so much more than I love him. We are not balanced with our love and we both know it. I think Alex must have always known it.
“I mean I probably would have left Jamie with Alex and took off. I probably would have started down my dark path again. I probably would have left to fall apart or something. Right, Alex?”
“But you did love him and you stayed and you're perfect now. You're a wonderful wife and mother and you own your own flower shop, and we made it.”
“Yes we did. We made it Alexander.”
“Sadie? Would you please come inside with me? It's freezing out here and you're very cold.”
“I'm not ready yet,” I mumble as I light another smoke slowly. I think I'm waiting for him to object, but he doesn't. Alexander is smarter than that. He ignores me smoking because of the larger picture we're seeing- I think he knows I know.
“Cheryl, I think you should leave now. Alexander and I have a few things to discuss, privately, and I think we should be alone now. I believe Alexander won’t hurt me, so I don't need you here anymore. Alexander and I need to be alone now, and I really don't want you to think we're bad people, because we're not. Well, not really. Right, honey?”
“We're not bad people at all.”
“Why did you think Alex would hurt you,” Cheryl whispers in my ear.
“I don't. Sometimes I expect the worst, but Alex isn't the worst.”
“I don't know what you mean,” Alex looks at me and begs.
“Cheryl? Do you think you could just keep all this between us? I know this is strange, and I'm strange, and this situation is strange, but could you please keep it between us. I don't want the neighborhood to know I'm strange. Oh, god, I really don't want the M's to know from across the street. She'd love it if I wasn’t perfect.”
“I won't tell anyone anything, Sadie. I promise. Especially the M's because I find them really annoying,” she grins.
“Me too,” I smile back.
“Why don't you and Alex talk and maybe later, or soon, I'll come over for coffee?”
“That would be lovely. Thank you Cheryl,” I nod. And I mean it.
As she rises, she readjusts the blanket over my shoulders, covering most of me in its warmth. Smiling one last time, Cheryl makes her way out my side garage door without even a quick glance at Alexander. Looking, I guess I was wrong. They don't seem like they're having an affair at all, and I was probably a little offensive assuming they were.
“I'm sorry for all this,” I whisper as Alex sits watching me.
“What is it, baby?” He whispers in return while taking my hand.
CHAPTER 32
As soon as Cheryl walks out the side door of our garage, I really look at Alexander for the first time in ages, and sadly, he looks confused and tired. He looks kind of like I feel; worn out and tired and confused by life.
“When's the last time you ate, Sadie?”
“Do you remember me singing, Alex?”
“Sadie. When did you eat last? Friday night?”
“I don't know. I think so. Why?”
“Because you're not taking care of yourself. You don't look very well, Sade. Can I make you something to eat?”
“Okay. Soon. Thank you. I had coffee though yesterday. No, Sunday. No, Saturday,” I admit confused. I'm sure it's Monday. “Do you remember me singing, Alex?”
“I do. I remember in high school you sang Somebody by Depeche Mode, and everyone in the auditorium was silent while you sang. You sounded beautiful. I may have even fallen a little in love with you then like everyone else did,” he smiles.
I remember that day. I felt beautiful and amazing and whole that day. I couldn't believe I worked up the nerve to sing for the talent show, but I did. And I was so good that day. Everyone was surprised by my voice, even me, I remember. It was just one of those rare days someone has where absolutely everything works out; from their clothes, to their hair, to the sound of their voice. Everything was perfect for me that day. I loved that day.
“Do you remember me ever dancing?”
“Not really. I remember once at a bush party you and a few girlfriends dancing to something but I was with my group of friends drinking, so I didn’t pay much attention. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. But I remember, Alex. I always sang and danced when I was a teenager. I think I was happy before I was sixteen, and maybe even a little after that, but then my life started changing. Do you know why I stopped being happy? Do you know why I hate music and noise?”
“No,” he breathes into me.
“Because He always had music playing when we were together. And then He turned it off when He left.”
“Who?” He questions.
“You know who,” I call his bluff.
“I don't know. Why don't you tell me, Sadie,” Alex says calling my bluff in return.
Staring at Alex, I take out another cigarette. With shaking hands, I try to light it but my thumb and fingers are so numb I can't. But amazingly, Alex takes the lighter from me slowly and sparks the flint. Holding out the lighter to me, I'm shocked he would, so grinning, I ask why without asking, as I inhale.
“It's fine, Sadie. If smoking in the freezing garage makes you talk to me, I'll take it,” he responds deadpan.
Looking at Alex sitting in front of me I wish I could just hug him. I don't like this distance between us and I don't like the feeling of being alone anymore. I wasted too many years alone waiting for something more.
“I received a letter on Wednesday,” I say as Alexander stiffens in front of me.
Recovering quickly though, he asks, “From who?”
“My old friend Patrick. My awesomely gay former friend Patrick. Do you know him?” I ask watching him. But Alex answers without answering- his silence is answer enough for me. “How did you know him?” But when there is more silence, I continue. “It doesn't matter anymore. Just tell me how you know Patrick. Please?”
But he still can't speak.
“I grabbed the mail on Wednesday and there was a Manila envelope with a book in it and a letter from Patrick. Would you like to hear it?”
And he nods. Not looking at me, he actually looks down at his hands and nods. He looks guilty as hell about something, and I want to know so badly what's going on that I'm shaking with the need to know.
“Should I read it?”
“If you want to, Sadie. Go ahead,” Alexander mumbles, still looking down at his hands.
Moving to the side of the garage, I shimmy on my butt with the blanket and lift my old hatbox to remove the letter and book. Holding the book feels like everything dark in my life. Holding the book feels like saying goodbye and staring at only darkness as you jump into the sea. Holding the book feels like a goodbye for us and I’m scared.
“Can I read it to you?”
“Please...” Alex whispers, finally raising his head to look at me. Staring back at his lovely blue eyes, I feel a dark goodbye all around us.
“Why didn't you tell me?” I beg.
“Please just read his letter,” Alex says with stiff shoulders and a sad nod.
Leaning against the garage
wall, wrapped as best as I can in my warm blanket, I look at Alex one last time and begin reading the letter from Patrick with a fear I can't even hide. The fear is in my voice, and it's in my shaking body.
This is it, I think.
Dear Sadie
I hope this finds you well. I want you to know I kept watch on you until very recently when I was sure you had finally found your way to happiness.
I love you still, and I don't blame you for ending our friendship when you found my thesis. I was actually proud of you for doing that, because back then I was sure I could've convinced you to forget all about it, should you ever find out at the time. I thought you were too weak and I was too fabulous then, for you to push me away. But again, you surprised me with your response. When you almost destroyed my University career and subsequent studies I was totally pissed, but quite proud of the nasty little bitch inside you, too. You surprised me with that. But when you moved and never saw me again I can admit I was truly heartbroken then. You were very important to me, and I loved you very much, even though I'm sure you find that hard to believe. I know you won't believe me but I never did anything to intentionally hurt you. Every part of our friendship was true- my only wrongdoing was documenting it without your knowledge and using it to further my studies. Admittedly, that was a shitty thing to do. So for that I'm very sorry. But I'm not sorry for anything else we experienced together. I honestly loved you and I loved our relationship for those few years I had it. And I wish you would believe that, because it’s true.
I want you to know that I'm publishing my book in a few days, maybe already by the time you receive this letter. So I'm extending you the courtesy of a (signed) copy first, so you know what to expect. I did amend it slightly from the original draft you read years ago, and I added a more thorough psychological synopsis of the events and your reactions to them, but fundamentally it is the same. I even included the night we slept together to bring to my book the full honesty of the story.
I want you to know that I have followed your progress and I know where you've ended up, which is also in the book. I know everything, and I've included it. I know of your marriage to Alexander and I know of the birth of your son, Jamie. I have included in the epilogue where you ended up, though obviously I changed all necessary names.
I have finally included the ending, Sadie.
You are beautiful Sadie, and I honestly wish you nothing but the best in your future. You have been a constant source of pride and anguish for me since our friendship ended. I have wanted to reach out to you nearly every day of these years we've been apart, but it was actually Stephen (who I'm still with incidentally) that convinced me to let you go.
Therefore, this is a courtesy, and I have been advised by my lawyers that no legal action can take place because of the disclaimer I included and because all our names have been changed. I'm only telling you about this so you don't stumble upon the book one day unaware, because I don't want you to suffer any undue stress from this book or from the story it tells.
There is one thing I MUST say to you now though. And it’s very important; so please listen to me Sadie.
I want you to talk to Alexander. He knows more than he's ever told you, but that's all I'll say on his behalf. He knows Sadie. And you need to ask him the question so you can say goodbye to your past once and for all. You need to ask him so you know his part in your story. Remember I told you once, the best friend always knows- well, the husband always knows too. Trust me.
With my sincerest heartfelt love,
Patrick
xo
P.S. I've included a check given to me by my Publisher and I want you to have it. If you don't want it for yourself, than keep it for Jamie as a University trust or something. But whatever you decide, I beg you to please keep the money, because this is your story, and you deserve something for the life you've lived.
In the silence that follows the letter, I can barely breathe. I feel so lost and scared of what I may face with Alexander that I feel like I'm suddenly drowning. My throat is tight and my chest is pounding, and my body is numb with the cold that has settled deep inside me.
“It's not what you think, Sadie. I didn't do anything wrong...” Alexander breathes into the silence suffocating me.
“Tell me,” I beg on a gasp.
“I knew Patrick.”
“How?” I barely breathe. How could he possibly? HOW?
“I knew him casually through Diana. They were friends for a while, and then I met him again in University. We were never friends but just casual acquaintances back then.”
“I don't get it. What's the connection to me? He's so much older than me?”
“What does age have to do with it? He was friends with all Di’s artsy friends and they partied together, so I met him a few times. That's all.”
“But?”
“I had one class with him in my third year. I took an elective Psych course and he was the T.A., so I chatted him up looking for a better grade. We talked a little, but it was nothing.”
“Until?” I ask while pulling my blanket tighter. I'm just freezing deep inside, and I can't stand this cold much longer. At this point I don't even remember why I'm doing this anymore.
“Sadie, I will never hurt you.”
“I know.”
“Can I sit next to you and warm you up a little?” He asks me sadly. And because I hate a sad Alex, I nod and wait for him to warm me.
Sliding over to the wall, Alex wraps the blanket tighter around me and keeps his arm over my shoulder as we relax a little with each other.
“Did you know who I was? Did Patrick tell you everything?”
“No. Not at first. I mean I always knew you from high school, but we weren't close back then. You remember- we just ended up at the same parties sometimes, but we never hung out because you were younger than me and my friends.”
“But?”
“Patrick and I were talking casually once about our weekend, and he mentioned being at his friend Sadie's apartment. And I told him I knew a Sadie from high school so he described you to me and told me your last name and we realized it was you. I think we were both a little surprised that I knew who you were. But I mean it makes sense. We went to the same high school, just a few years apart, so he knew my sister and I knew you.”
“But you never told me you knew him.”
“He asked me not to.”
“Why?” I ask stunned by all this history. I didn’t even know Patrick attended the same high school as I did, not that we would have been there at the same time, but still. I know I mentioned my high school to him but I don’t remember him ever telling me he went there years before me as well.
“When you and Patrick had your falling out, he called me and asked if I knew your parent's number, which I didn't. He asked if I knew anyone who knew you and I really didn't. I remember at the time telling him you really didn't have any friends anymore. I remember hearing rumors about you and people talking about you like you had simply vanished shortly after college. So I told him I didn't know how to get in touch with you. Which I didn't at the time.”
“But that day? The day on campus?” I ask breathless.
“Patrick asked me to meet you to see how you were doing. I guess he had already been called by one of his Professors, and he was to see them later that day. The Professor told him they were speaking to another student about his thesis and that they may have questions about the thesis for him later. It was actually pretty stupid of them because Patrick obviously knew you were the student. He knew you were why he was being asked to meet with his Psych Profs on campus. So he called me again.”
And then Alexander pauses like he's trying to think of what to say. He pauses but his arm tightens around my shoulders and I can barely breathe from the stress and fear of what he's going to say.
“Just tell me...” I whisper.
“Patrick called me and told me what was happening. Well, actually, all he said was he had fucked up royally, and you wouldn't speak to
him anymore, and he didn't want to upset you more by meeting you on campus, I think for your benefit, and also because he didn't want to make things worse for himself if you freaked out. Anyway, he called me and said you were probably going to be on campus that morning because his meeting was suddenly cancelled with 3 Profs, so Patrick thought for sure you were going to be there again to talk to them. He told me you were usually walked to your car by the security campus teams, even in the daylight, and he asked me to make sure you were okay. He told me what your car looked like and he told me you were probably around or in the Psych Quad. He even told me where I could wait on campus so I would see you leave the buildings before getting into your car.”
“But I don't understand. Did he want to hurt me? Did he want you to hurt me?” I cry out.
“No! Not at all. He actually just wanted me to check up on you so I could tell him if you were okay. I didn't know exactly what had happened, but he wanted you to be safe. That's all. Patrick asked me to make sure you were okay. I don't think Patrick would have ever hurt you, Sade. He loved you, I think.”
“So you knew I would be there?” I ask ignoring his last statement.
“Yes. But that's all I did. I waited for like 2 hours by that fountain to see if you were okay and to come up with something to say to you, because the whole thing was so weird to me. I didn't even know if you would still be there. I didn't know if I would even see you, or if you would remember me. So I almost left a few times but something made me stay put.”
“What were you supposed to do to me when you saw me?”
“Nothing! Jesus, Sadie. Patrick wouldn't hurt you and I sure as hell would never hurt you. I was only supposed to check up on you and then call Patrick and let him know when you left. That's it, baby. I swear,” Alexander begs while shaking me a little in his arms.