My Wife's Li'l Secret (7 page)

Three minutes later, Bear burst through my front door. “Out with it,” he said, handing me a bottle of Chivas. “You look spooked, man.”

Knowing that my marriage was over and that I could trust my brother-in-law, I pointed wordlessly at the screen. “Take a look, Bear.”

My marriage is finished.

I mean, how can you possibly be with a woman who fucks her own brother? That’s incest, pure and adulterated, and if I stayed with her, I would be just as perverted.

As Bear watched, I got out two glasses and poured us a triple Chivas each.

After downing mine, I resumed my pacing, muttering “Fuck!” every now and then.

I poured another triple and knocked it back.

Bear hit pause and turned slowly to look at me, his face ashen, his mouth silently opening and closing like a barracuda. He too loved Liefie, treated her like a sister, and was probably as shocked as I was.

“Sick, right? Huh?”

Slowly, he nodded, his eyes staring vacantly ahead.

Another short silence followed before he said, “You’ve seen his ID?”

“His ID? Why? Whatchu saying?”

He knocked back his whisky, which he hadn’t touched till then, and looked at me. “How do you know he’s Liefie’s brother, Big?”

I stared at Bear like a cretin. Why didn’t I think of that?

“Yeah, actually, I did see his ID,” I finally said, shaking my index finger at him. “His passport was lying around and I looked at it and laughed at his ugly photo. Taken years ago, of course.”

Bear fell silent, his brows knitted. Now and then he shook his head as if he was having a silent conversation with himself.

“I’ve met her mother and father, Bear. They’re all legit. It’s just incest, man. Incest!”

Bear nodded slowly, his eyebrows becoming one.

“I can’t do this anymore, Bear,” I said, both hands on my head. “I can’t be with her. It’s over, man. It’s way over. Fuuuuck!”

His head bobbed as I ranted.

I stabbed my finger at the laptop. “That image is not something I can
ever
get out of my mind. Even if I am drunk, mortally at that, I would still see that clearly.” I downed my whisky, then paced some more.

“I’m with you here, Big. I get what you’re going through. But you know the advice we give clients…?”

“Dig deeper ’cause there’s more? I know, I know. Fuck, Bear, I’m shaking, man!” I rubbed my eyes with the palms of my hands, feeling like I was in a dream. A bad one.

“I mean, my girls…I don’t wanna lose them, but I can’t be with her. It’s not something I can get over, man!”

“Okay, slow down,” he said as he watched me pour my fourth shot of whisky. Or fifth. I had lost count. “We’ll get Jai involved, dig deeper, obtain more footage, then act. For now…” he put his thumb and index finger to his lips and made a zipping motion. “Huh?”

How easy it was for him to say that. This was my wife. I loved her. She was my Liefie, beautiful and sweet and …my
wife
, the only woman I had truly loved.

Just because she no longer loved me didn’t mean I could turn off my feelings for her just like that. Her betrayal – it hurt. Cut bone-deep.

As the minutes passed, I thought about her behavior ever since Viggo arrived in Sydney. All the times they talked in Russian, making me feel excluded…

Guess what? I was right to feel excluded – three was a crowd.

She
was
having an affair and more!

It felt like a serrated blade had been plunged into my chest. Wounded – that’s how I felt.

I was a man, so I didn’t cry. Outwardly, that is. Inside, I was mush.

To think I bought pizza and planned to eat while I watched. “I don’t think I can ever eat pizza again without remembering this night,” I said.

Bear walked over and clamped his hand on my shoulder, then shook it in a reassuring gesture.

I wasn’t reassured. I couldn’t be. How do you reassure a man who watched his wife, the mother of his children, commit an act of incest?

You can’t.

By the time Bear left, I was so drunk, I stumbled to bed and fell onto it.

But in spite of my inebriated state, I smelled Viggo’s scent on my pillow, on my bed, on my sheets, and I smelled
sex
in my bedroom. It creeped me out so much, I got up and stumbled to the spare room where I passed out.

As I did, I remembered thinking: I was right to dislike that bastard Viggo. He is the reason I’m losing my wife. He is the reason my kids will be deprived of a happy home.

Cunt!

****

I awoke at 9 a.m. and stumbled downstairs to give my kids breakfast.

Olga and Viggo were still asleep, so I knew the kids wouldn’t be fed.

The shock of seeing my wife fuck another man, her brother at that, was wearing off, and I eagerly awaited denial’s visit. It would give me time to process the fact that my marriage was over.

Denial failed to show up, and all I felt was a feeling of emptiness in the pit of my stomach.

Maybe denial didn’t visit if someone was hung over, I thought.

My hangover raged, so I popped four aspirins, a tall glass of water, and followed that with a large Coke.

I’m going to be divorcing Liefie soon, I thought as I stared out of my kitchen window. I will never hold Liefie in my arms again, never make love to her again, never feel her arms around me as she looked into my eyes.

I slumped into my chair, feeling like an eighteen-wheeler was parked on my chest.

I was mourning the loss of what
should
have been. Or what had been
prior
to us losing our son.

Thank God anger showed its face.

Full custody, that’s what I planned to get. No way was I going to let Olga rear my kids. She was clearly a toxic influence; her judgment was impaired in the worst possible way.

And anyway, I doubted the courts would give her custody after being made aware of the sickening footage. She wasn’t interested in the children anyway, so I suspected I would not really have a huge custody battle on my hands.

Even though I needed to call Jai, I hesitated. Grabbing my sunglasses, I dragged my fragile self onto my patio, flopped into a lounger, and stared across my pool into the tranquil nature reserve which was my backyard. As I watched the kookaburras dancing around in the morning sunlight without a care in the world, a sense of loss pervaded my shattered soul.

After downing another four aspirins for my mother of a hangover, I called Jai and arranged to meet in an hour. Even though it was a Sunday, Jai agreed to meet without asking questions. I was grateful for that.

Liefie and Viggo stumbled downstairs around midday and headed in tandem towards the coffee percolator.

Even though I willed myself to look at my wife, I couldn't. After what I had seen, it was so goddamn hard to look at her and not see her on her knees pleasuring her brother.

When I did sneak a glance at the woman I once loved so much – who used to talk to me on the phone for hours and who couldn’t wait to be in my arms, who once told me that she never knew men like me existed; good, decent, family men –  thought, what a brilliant actress she was. To lie so convincingly? Bravo!

“You should go, leave. Nobody wants you around.”

No wonder she said those nasty things to me – I was in the way.

Good guys finish last, I concluded.

As for Fuckhead, once again he paraded around shirtless, and I resisted the urge to lunge at him, grab the cigarette out of his hand and stub it out on his chest. From the corner of my eye, I watched Olga make two cups of coffee and hand one to Fuckhead.

Two cups of coffee, not three; I was invisible, remember? Just the cuckolded breadwinner of this house. Just the fool who provided her with unlimited means to deceive me.

I waited for her to ask why I had slept in the spare room, but she didn’t. Obviously she didn’t give a crap what I did.

But what angered me most was her disinterest in the kids. She didn’t even ask if they had had breakfast.

Without a word, I showered, dressed, got into my Jeep, and eased it out of the driveway.

Olga ran after my Jeep. “What time are you coming back?”

Ignoring her, I kept on going and turned the Jeep into the road.

“Ritchie!”

Fuck you, you dirty bitch!

“RITCHIE!”

Then Viggo walked up behind her and placed his hand on her shoulder. Her
bare
shoulder.

For a moment, I stopped and stared at the deceitful pair in my rear view mirror, and I have to tell you, it took every ounce of restraint not to slip into reverse, accelerate, and ram almost four thousand pounds of steel into their deceitful bodies.

I could just picture the scene; both of them lying crushed and mangled against the garage door, a heap of broken bones, flesh and blood.

End of all my pain.

A car hooting behind me brought me out of my gruesome reverie. I sped away to meet Jai.

Jai Subbash, former IT specialist turned Private Investigator, was an Australian-born Indian who had been working for us for about three years.

Around five feet seven, slim, with dark, curly hair, he wore modest clothes and black-rimmed glasses.

Nondescript
is the word when describing Jai, which is exactly the image he wanted to portray. Because of his characterless look, he could blend into any environment, leaving him free to observe and investigate.

He was a vital part of our business’s investigative team, and he proved valuable because of his local and international connections.  Best of all, he delivered in record time.

His unassuming air made people underestimate his sharpness, his ability to miss little, and his eye for minute detail. Most importantly, he could be trusted to keep his trap shut about sensitive situations.

“What have you got for me, Big Mac?”

“Check your phone,” I said as I sent him all the info he needed for his investigation.

“Yep, yep, yep,” he said as he flipped through the documents on his phone. When he saw Olga’s passport, his eyes shot up to mine.

I gave a small shrug. “It’s…it’s pretty much what you think it is, Jai.” Each word was loaded with bitterness.

His sympathetic stare brought a lump to my throat. With a slow and deliberate nod he said, “I’ll prioritize this, my friend.”

I wished he wouldn’t use the kind, compassionate voice on me; it made me feel…four feet tall.

“Appreciate it, Jai,” I said as I pumped my friend’s hand. “Dribs and drabs are fine. I’m impatient.”

“For sure, mate, for sure. You take care now, Big.”

With a heavy heart, I drove back home. Well, to a place I once called home.

But as I neared home, I had a change of heart. If I went home, Olga would leave the house and I would be saddled with the housework and kids once again. My hangover was killing and I really needed to sleep it off. I called Bear.

Thankfully, he answered on the first ring. “Big, how’s the hangover, mate?”

“A bitch with talons.”

He laughed. “
Premenstrual
bitch with talons, I would say.”

“Yeah. That’s why I’m calling you; I need a place to crash for a couple of hours.”

“Sure! Come right over. Have you had lunch?”

“No.”

“Good, ’cause Arena’s cooking.”

When was the last time I had a decent, home-cooked meal?

“What’s she cooking?” I asked absentmindedly.

“Hold on,” Bear said. “Rena, Ritchie wants to know what you’re cooking,” I heard him ask my sister.

After a moment, he returned to me. “Rich, she’s making road-kill with three veg, savory rice…and a chocolate mousse to die for. Her exact words, so I think the mousse is poisoned.”

“That sounds good!” I said with a smile, even though I had no appetite.

Arena met me at the door with a hug. “We’ll handle this,
boet
(bro),” she said in Afrikaans, our Native South African language she switched to whenever she was nervous. Her tone of voice was similar to the one Jai used on me earlier on, Bear obviously having filled her in on everything.

The concerned look on my sister’s face coupled with her kind words brought back that lump in my throat. There was so much I wanted to say to her about what happened. I wanted to share the sordid details, explain my fury, my disappointment, and even my disbelief over the whole situation, but I remained silent. Guess I wasn’t ready to talk about my wife’s debauchery. Or maybe I was still in shock. All I could do was nod.

“What a pity, I happen to like Liefie,” Arena said more to herself than to me. “But I guess when she didn’t help with Savannah’s disappearance, I should have known all was not right with her.”

Over lunch, between bites and sometimes
during
bites, we talked about the last couple of months of my life.

“It’s like she went to Ukraine for two months and lost her mind. Like she’s gone cuckoo.” I rolled my finger next to my temple. “She talks differently these days. Her accent, it’s more …
pronounced
, grates my nerves.” My mouth twisted with contempt. “Riiiitchi!” I mimicked. “And the way she dresses now – tarty, man!” I told them about Ally's school and the hooker story.

“I can’t believe Liefie would backhand her kids,” Arena said, shaking her head. “Not Liefie.”

“Drugs are known to alter your priorities,” Bear said as he attacked his lamb. “Druggies will sell their bloody kids for money.”

No sooner had he uttered those words, did he slap his forehead. “Disregard those words. I doubt she would do that.”

After a brief deliberation, I continued to push food around my plate. My sister was a great cook, but everything tasted like polystyrene at that moment.

“I’m going to seek custody of the kids,” I announced. “I have footage of her and her brother, and I will use it in my custody battle. After her abusive behavior toward Ally, I don’t feel I can trust her to take care of the kids.”

“I can’t believe how she’s changed,” Arena said, sitting back in her chair and shaking her head. “Could she be such a good actress that we
all
fell for her? I mean, I’m usually distrustful of people until I get to know them, but I
liked
her. Loved her like a sister. I actually feel…like I feel such a sense of loss.” Her eyes filled with tears.

“Well, in spite of that, you did well with the lamb,” I said, trying to lighten the mood. In spite of my depressed and miserable state, I didn’t want my sister to be sad. “Food’s great!”

She gave a wry smile. “Thanks.”

“Yeah,” Bear said. “You’ve outdid yourself, baby.”

She smiled at him, and it was hard to miss the love and appreciation in her face.

He got up from his chair, leaned across the table, brushing against the lamb, the veg, the sauces, and planted a kiss on her lips.

“It’ll be okay,” he said in a reassuring voice.

She nodded before dabbing his mouth with a napkin.

As I watched my sister and my best friend together, I found myself fighting off pangs of envy. Sure, she was my sister and it gave me great joy to see her so happy, to see her finally meet a man who loved her dearly, who had her back and who clearly was her life partner, but a profound longing surged through my disappointed soul. Olga and I once share this kind of love.

As a couple, we too were tight, we too promised to love each other forever, but our love wasn’t real and probably never was.

Our love was a sham if she had been sleeping with her brother all along. What a dope I was to believe her.

Twice she went to Ukraine, and each time she spent more than two months there. All the time they needed to fuck with no restrictions, without having to hide their sordid secret. Ukraine afforded them all the privacy they needed.

My mind drifted to her parents. Twice they visited Australia and stayed with us. Once they stayed for an entire month. Did they know? Did they suspect? Is that why they always avoided my eyes and pretended not to speak English? Maybe it was their way of keeping their family secret safe.

This was more than a sham; this was deception at its finest.

After lunch ended, I made my way into Arena’s spare bedroom, where I crawled into bed. My hangover coupled with my exhaustion caused me to pass out the moment my head hit the pillow. Even with Arena’s noisy kids splashing and laughing in the pool, I slept like a baby. Snored.

****

When I awoke, Bear, Arena, and I sat around the table and talked some more over coffee and blueberry muffins.

“Well, I took your advice and didn’t utter a word,” I said to Bear. “Got Jai involved and now it’s wait and see.”

“Ritchie,” Arena said, a worried look on her face, “anytime and anything; you know that, right? I’ll
always
be here. And Ally and Becky – I got them. They’re …” With a sad smile she tapped her heart, “Bear and I, we wish we could have more children, but we won’t be having more, so the next best thing is
your
kids. They are like our own, Rich. Just remember that. Don’t ever feel alone or feel that they will be without a mother figure, because I will always be here,
boet
.”

I nodded, my eyes fixed to my mug of coffee.

“Yep,” Bear said, “We’re right next to you, Big. Not behind you;
next
to you. Count on that.”

More nodding on my part. I hated to see my family so sad and broken.

I cleared the frog in my throat and said, “But …would you take a grenade for me?” It was my way of lightening the mood.

Both stared at me before they chuckled.

“I will,” Bear said, pointing a thickly buttered muffin at me. “I fucking will.”

I chuckled. “But you need to ease up on that butter if you want to be around to help with the grenade shit.”

“Tell him,” Arena said. “One of these days his cholesterol is going to shoot through the roof. Tell him, Ritchie, tell him!”

Bear looked at his muffin and frowned. “It’s just a li’l butter.” He reached over and added more butter to it.

“Bear!” Arena and I chorused.

When I checked my phone, I had thirty-one voice messages and fifteen texts. All from my unfaithful wife.

I also had two missed calls from Viggo’s phone.

As much as I dreaded going back home, I had to know how my girls were, so I started to leave. Before I did, I turned to Arena.

“You know, I couldn’t believe how apathetic Liefie was about Savannah’s disappearance.
Olga
, I mean. I was really embarrassed about it. Even though I said nothing to you guys.”

Arena gave a dismissive wave while Bear just shrugged.

After a warm hug from my older sister and a few backslaps from my brother from another mother, I drove home to face the banshee in scarlet lipstick.