The Wife
I reach for the barf bag and step quickly over Liam, hoping to make it to the bathroom before I hurl all over the place. I place the bag to my mouth and run straight for the door, locking myself inside the tiny space. I lose my stomach in the toilet and fall to the floor in a flood of tears.
Thankfully the boys slept the rest of the flight, giving me time to cool down and figure out how I’m going to keep my calm with Mike if he’s at my house tonight. I will need Lee with me to face him and she won’t be home until tomorrow because she decided to stay back with Frank, giving me privacy with the boys. I decide to text Mike once we land that our flight has been delayed and that he can come see the boys tomorrow. I’m hopeful he doesn’t decide to come by the house while he still can, but will have to do all I can not to show my rage to the boys. This betrayal feels so much worse than if it was some random girl or someone from the office, and it simply disgusts me. I’ve got to try to find any positive about what I’ve realized, because if I don’t I may kill him. I need to remember that the person who helped drive the wedge further in our marriage isn’t the only problem. Now that I know the level Mike would stoop to and the lack of respect he has for me is something I should be happy to be free of. Any trace of love that I still had for Mike has turned to absolute disgust and anger.
We arrive at our house to see Rita waiting for me, and I’ve never been happier to see anyone than her right now. I sent her a text when we landed and had asked her to come and stay with the boys tonight. I know she wondered why, but instead, she just acted casual and supportive. She helps me carry the boys in and get them into bed, all the while watching me like a hawk, knowing something is different about me, something’s changed. When we walk downstairs, her tone changes from the casual conversation we had with the boys while tucking them in.
“What’s going on, Alexa? I don’t like the look on your face.” She comes over and grabs my hand. “I’ve never seen you like this.”
I’ve never felt like this. I’m numb. “I need to talk to Mike first.”
I decide the best way to find him is to check his messages on his laptop, which means I have to go to his office. I give Rita a kiss and she looks at me warily. “Be careful. These boys need you.”
I’m sure the look on my face makes me look as though I’m going to murder Mike, but she knows me better than that. I’m just tired of the lies, and if I hear another one out of his mouth I’ll never be able to forgive him. I need proof. Proof he can’t deny, and then I’ll use my evidence to make sure he doesn’t fight me for custody. I would never take the boys from him; they will always need their father no matter how big of an ass he may be. But I’ll be damned if they ever live with that horrible woman.
“I won’t be long.” I kiss her cheek, grab one of Mike’s hoodies he left behind and walk out the door. I decide to take the black Mercedes Mike left in our garage that he usually drives and leave my minivan, not wanting to give myself away in case he’s still at the office.
I’m starting to feel a little crazy as I make the ten-minute drive to his office building and begin to think of what I’ll tell people who are still in the office if they see me there that time of the evening. I don’t know how much they know about what’s happened between us.
When I pull into the parking lot, I’m relieved to see it’s empty besides a car parked in the distance and see no sign of Mike’s sports car. I hop out of the car just when it starts to downpour, as if the heavens have opened up on me, and sprint to the door. I’m inside before I have a chance to take in my surroundings and take off the jacket, shaking off the water that has accumulated all over it.
“What are you doing here?” Mike’s voice surprises me and I momentarily panic, but quickly remembered what I was going to say if he or anyone else were here.
My breath is sucked out of my chest when I have a moment to take in the scene before me. I can’t stand here and pretend anymore with the obvious staring me in the face. I have to save the little dignity I have left. “It’s been her the entire time, hasn’t it?”
Mike doesn’t flinch and Dr. Murphy has the nerve to be at his side and smile at me as if she is about to get what she’s been waiting for. “Yes.”
I can’t hide the disgust in my face. “You both make me sick.” I turn to Dr. Murphy who still sits there as if this is the most normal thing in the world. “You manipulated me to believe that my questions about Mike’s behavior were causing my marriage to fall apart, when the problem has been you this entire time.” I don’t give either of them an opportunity to speak again. I look at Mike now, doing my best to hold my composure and not let them see that I want to tear the two of them to shreds so they can feel like my heart.“I want the boys. You can have everything else.”
“Fine,” he answers coldly, and it should have surprised me. But it didn’t.
I slip the hoodie back on and turn on my heels, not able to breathe the same air as them anymore. The rain falls even harder now, but I feel different than I did moments ago. I feel free. I slip the hood over my head and open the door in another flat out sprint to the car. I fumble with the door before finally getting inside and for some unknown reason begin to laugh hysterically. Perhaps I was going into shock, perhaps it was a release my body needed, but I sat there laughing so hard that it made me cry.
My tears suddenly stopped as if my emotions were taken over by something not under my control. I sense something isn’t right. I can feel it in every cell of my body. I fumble to put my key in the ignition when I notice a shadow slide up the side of my window. Before I can turn to see who it is, there’s a pop. Then nothing but darkness.
“A stór…my love, time to wake up.” Jamie leaned over and placed his lips tenderly to mine, waking me from my dream.
“No, I like my dream.” I pulled the blanket back under my chin, and tried to turn over and continue the life I was dreaming about.
Jamie was quickly on top of me, his bare chest flexing under the strain of me trying to wriggle away. Once he had me easily back on my back, he secured my hands above my head and speckled my face and neck with kisses. “What could you possibly be dreaming about that would be better than me?” He moved his free hand up to my breast.
I sighed in pleasure. “Don’t worry, you were in it.” He was surprised as much as me when tears spilled over my cheeks; he quickly hopped off me and pulled me tightly into his arms. It was times like these that always made me feel how much he loved me.
“Tell me about it,” he said after I had calmed down a bit and was able to handle the unexpected emotions that came from my dream.
I traced a figure eight on his chest, letting the smooth feeling of his skin keep me in reality. “It was the future, but much different than it can ever be.” I closed my eyes and pictured the large blue-green wave as it crashed on the shore, where two little girls played hand in hand together. They had a familiar face with eyes that I’ve looked into a thousand times. “We had children. Two little girls.” The next memory threatened to bring the tears back and Jamie must have noticed the change in the beating of my heart because he pulled me in closer and kissed my wrist.
“I’d always hoped for boys,” he said jokingly, trying to make me smile.
I kissed his chest and continued my story. “Our moms were there. Holding hands with the girls, running through the waves. We were happy, happier than we’ll ever be.”
“That does sound nice,” he said truthfully.
“Our dads were there too. My dad was smiling and laughing, watching the girls and my mom together.” I kissed his hand. “It felt like my mom was really there with us. It all felt so real and I didn’t want it to change.” The tears poured from me and so did the confession that followed. “I was horrible to my mom when she was dying. Horrible. I was so young and I blamed her for leaving me.” I sniffed and calmed myself down. “I wasted my last moments with her to go to a stupid soccer game. She wasn’t feeling well that morning and I knew it. I knew she was dying and I left because I was too scared t
o watch her die. I wasn’t there for her when I should have been the last face she saw. I should have been the last hand she held…and now I’m starting to forget the sound of her voice or what she looks like, and how she smells.”
“She understood, Lex. I promise you she didn’t blame you.” He kissed my head, held me closer and took a deep breath. “The last words I ever said to my mom were I hate you.” I could feel him swallow hard. “I was so mad at her for not letting me play my Atari that I told her I hated her when she left for the store. And do you know what she said back to me?” He laughed a little at the memory. “She said she loved me. She knew I was just being a pisser and she loved me still. I used to think she thought of what I said when she died, but I have no doubt now that her only thoughts of me that day were of love. I know that’s true for you too.”
Even if he had no way of knowing for sure, he made me feel better to think that way. “Let’s make a promise today to tell our dads and friends how much we love them every day. If anything ever happened to me, or our dads or our two little girls,” I looked up at him and winked, “let’s make a promise not to ever leave their side and make as many memories, as mundane as they may seem, as we can.”
He held up his pinky to me and wrapped it around mine. “Promise.”
Jamie walked through the door, looking proud and accomplished, the next day. I knew that look well and wondered what he had up his sleeve. Like, literally up his sleeve. I could see a bulge up near his elbow and wondered why in the world he put something there. I didn’t say anything at first; I knew he’d spill the beans sooner rather than later. No one was worse at keeping surprises or secrets than he was. It still amazes me that he was able to pull off that perfect night at camp when he gave me my promise ring.
Instead, I lay back on the couch, pretending to look over my notes for class tomorrow, and played with the ring on my left hand, wondering for the first time in a long time when it would be replaced with the real thing. It’s not that I wanted another ring from Jamie, or that I was in any kind of a rush to get married; I just wondered when we would make it official.
I sometimes wondered whether we would wind up raising our family in America or Ireland, where his dad is. Jamie and his dad are so close; I was amazed he’s been able to find happiness so far away. Jamie loves to tell me stories about the adventures he and his dad had together when he was a kid. His dad was like mine in so many ways. I’ve always thought they’d get along well if they ever met. Maybe one day they will. I haven’t ever met Mr. McCullen myself, only spoken to him on the phone when he calls. His voice is much like Jamie’s, only his accent is so strong, there are times I could hardly understand what he was saying. He always wanted to make sure Jamie was working hard and treating me well. He understood Jamie’s desire to go to school abroad and experience life in America, but it was always clear he expected Jamie to return to him when school was finished.
I twirled his mother’s ring around my finger, remembering how he said her death changed him forever and it makes me wonder what would have been different if she was still here. Would we have ever met? Would he have fallen in love with painting the way he did? It’s what brought us together in the first place, his love of art. His mother was an artist, and he surely got his talent from her. He loved to talk about the way she would sit in the corner of their small pub and paint the patrons, often times putting the finished products along the dark walls of the cozy restaurant as homage to their regular customers. According to Jamie, everyone in town was a regular customer given it was one of the few places in their rural community to gather.
Jamie told me many times that I was the person who made him able to love again. I was the one to give him back his life. When he came to Camp Callahehee, it was to escape the memories of his mom. When she died, he closed off everyone in his life, even his dad. He didn’t feel as though he deserved to be loved after the way he spoke to his mom before she died. He said he realized he pushed everyone away also because the loss of losing her was too painful and he didn’t ever want to feel that kind of pain again. I don’t know whether it was his Irish superstitions or plain stubbornness, but he came to America that summer when we first met to keep a distance from everyone he loved, thinking he was poison and fearing that his bad luck brought on his mother’s unexpected death. When I looked at Jamie’s life, I didn’t see a man with unrelenting bad luck, the way he did; I saw a man with a heart to love beyond all expression, and knew that we were in each other’s life for a reason.
I looked up from my daydreaming to see Jamie standing over me with a huge smile. I decided to call him out since he still had that silly, obvious bulge on his arm.
“What you got up your sleeve?” I said jokingly as I tugged at the cuff of his sweater.
“Something for you,” he winked and pulled a little black box from his jacket, “but I can’t decide if I want to give it to you now or save it for your birthday.”
“Now. I want it now.” I popped up from my seat and reached for the box; he dodged it away from my reach. “Come on, Jamie. You know you’ll never be able to wait until next week anyway.” My stomach clenched when I saw the size of the box; it was small, small enough to hold an engagement ring. I faltered between excitement and nervousness with anticipation about what was about to happen.
He smiled. “You’re right.” He sat next to me and held the box in his hand. “I don’t want you to get too excited. It’s not diamonds or anything expensive, but it’s from my heart.”
I’d be lying if I didn’t say there was slight disappointment, but what came next washed all of that away. He opened the box to reveal a delicate silver charm bracelet. Instead of charms, there were little frames so small that it’s hard to imagine there were pictures small enough to fit inside.
“It’s beautiful,” I said as he took it from the box and placed it around my shaking wrist.
“I wanted to get you a necklace, but when I saw this, I knew it was perfect for you.” He turned over my wrist after he secured the clasp and kissed my wrist. “Look.” He lifted one of the frames for me to see.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. The picture wasn’t a shrunken photograph; it was a hand-painted recreation of a picture of the two of us kissing. I remember the picture well: it was one of my favorites taken when we saw each other at camp the first time after we decided to be a couple. One of my photographer friends had taken it for us, and it was one of the most special pictures to me because it was the first time I was able to feel, really feel, the love that Jamie had for me. “How did you do this?” I was speechless.
His smile burst with happiness when I had no words as he flipped to the next picture of my mom. I brought my wrist up closer to my face and was amazed by the details he was able to include in such a small space. There was another of my dad, and another last one that was blank.
I looked up at him. “Did you get lazy or something?” I winked and kissed his lips, feeling full of pride and love for my talented, thoughtful boyfriend.
“Very funny.” He kissed me again and ran his finger back and forth on the empty frame. “I wanted this bracelet to represent all the people you love. I saved this one for our kids. When you see this, don’t think of it as being empty; think of it as a symbol of the endless possibilities of our future.” He shakes his head and straightens up, always uncomfortable when he spills his heart this way. He was always full of surprises. As romantic and thoughtful as he’d always been, sharing his heart this way was not easy for him, and it made me appreciate this gift even more.
“That’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard.” I reached over and wrapped my arms around his neck and climbed up on top of him, looking deep into his eyes. “One love, everlasting.”
He kissed me passionately, parting my lips with a brush of his tongue, taking in a deep breath as if he were taking me in. I pulled my body into him, gently dragging my hands through his unruly brown hair, holding on to it as if it were my anchor from falling over the edge. His hands were quick
ly up the back of my tank top, grasping at my waist and back as our kiss intensified. The feeling of his greedy hands on my bare skin set me on fire, leaving a trail of desire on every place his hands touched. Our bodies moved together in a way that was driving me to such a desperate state of need that I could no longer hold in my plea when his hands possessively wrapped around my erect nipples making me unable to wait another minute to be with him.
“I need you,” I said breathlessly.
Without hesitation, Jamie ripped my shirt over my head and placed his full lips on my nipple, sucking pleasurably hard on my skin. “You drive me crazy, Lex.”
He flipped me over and was on top of me, pulling off my yoga pants and underwear with one swift movement. I lifted his shirt over his head, pulling him back to my lips that were growing impatient. When Jamie kissed me again, it was like nothing ever I experienced. He had a way of putting so much emotion and feeling behind his kiss that I had no doubt he could bring me over the edge just by the dominating way he controlled our kiss.
I reached down and unbuttoned his shorts, loving the way his sculpted stomach flinched with anticipation when my hands brushed against it. When I freed him from the confines of his clothes that were the last thing keeping us from being one, we both sighed in relief at the exhilarating feeling of coming together in one swift movement, unable to take another second apart.
“You feel so fucking good, Lex. So. Fucking. Good,” he husked out as our bodies moved expertly together.
I climbed higher with each thrust of his hips, our hands desperately clawing at each other as if our need was driving us to extinction. His lips crashed back to mine and deepened as our pace picked up, begging for the release that was building in us.
“I love you,” I repeated through our kiss, as if it was the air I needed to breathe. We’d made love many times before, but there was something so much different about this. Something so raw and passionate that I didn’t want it to end. Something like this couldn’t last; our need was too powerful.