THE AFFAIR (18 page)

I awoke to the smell of coffee, surprised that I’d drifted off. I lay in the bed knowing that eventually I would have to face my husband and the decisions I’d made. There was no way I was going to get out of confronting Larry.

I threw an old robe around my shoulders and walked toward the kitchen. Halfway there I stopped. Larry was coming toward me, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, sorrow lining his face.

He reached the cup out to me and I took it. “Thanks,” I murmured. It felt peculiar standing before my husband as though we were strangers. Nothing in our marriage had prepared either of us for this.

The sound of his voice broke my heart. The thin wall I had attempted to erect for this conversation came crashing down with a thud. I was crying, wailing for the pain I was in and the pain I was causing.

“Mick, Mick, Mick.”

Larry moaned and wrapped me in his arms. He held me tight to him, crying out my name. I clung to him, to the man I had lived with and loved for more than half my life.

He was the man I’d promised to love forever. My hands rubbed his back. When at last I pulled slightly away to look at him I was stopped by his pain. His eyes looked back at me so full of hurt. All I could see was that five-year-old little boy who’d been abandoned by his mother. Now his wife was the one abandoning him and I hated myself for it.

Larry lifted my chin upwards and kissed me softly on the lips. When he attempted to part my lips with his tongue, I gently pushed him away.

“Don’t, Larry. Let’s talk.”

I saw his pain rapidly change to anger. I lowered my eyes, sat and took a sip of my coffee. Soon Larry calmed down enough to sit opposite me.

Larry shut his eyes so tightly that they appeared to have sunk into his face. The chair he had been sitting in went flying across the room hitting the wall with a bang.

“This is crazy. You’re crazy. That’s it,” Larry bellowed. “I’ve had enough. Get dressed. I’m taking you to the doctor myself.” He stalked off for the bedroom.

“But, you said you were ready to listen.” I followed him, my feet hitting the floor hard. I wanted to reach him before he had a chance to slam our bedroom door in my face. “Larry, I have proof.”

“How can you possibly have proof that you’ve lived before?” He turned to face me. “Show me your proof, Mick.”

I watched as he went to the closet and started tossing objects around the room. He pulled out a strong box that held all of our important papers. As he went to the dresser drawer to retrieve the key, I knew no explanation would be enough.

Larry was screaming as he pulled papers out and tossed them on the bed. I don’t know what he said. This time I was the one not listening. He tossed our marriage license in my face.

“You want proof, Mick? I have proof that in this lifetime you’re my wife. You want a divorce? I’ll take everything. Try me. And what about the kids? Do you think they’re going to be on your side?”

The more he talked the calmer he became. It was that calm that made me afraid. We lived a good life because of Larry’s abilities as a lawyer. Now he was turning that gift against me.

I held the license in my hands. “I don’t want a divorce.”

“Then what the hell do you want?” he screamed. “Why didn’t you just lie to me if it’s over? Why didn’t you just say you were angry and went out of town?”

“Because I’ve never lied to you.”

“Now that’s a laugh.” Larry came toward me. “You’ve been seeing this guy for months and that wasn’t a lie?”

“I didn’t see him for months. I told you I met him two months ago.” I looked past my husband’s shoulder out the garden window. “I wasn’t having an affair with him all this time. It only started when you left.”

Larry cocked his head to the side. “I could swear that you think somehow this is my fault. Tell me, Mick, is it my fault that you’ve turned into a two-timing slut?”

I gritted my teeth, batting my eyelashes furiously to keep the tears away. “It’s not your fault, Larry. It’s not anyone’s fault.”

“Oh my dear wife, you have that so wrong. It is someone’s fault and someone’s going to have to pay.” His voice was now cold. He made a melodramatic sweep with his arms, motioning me to take a seat.

“Larry, it’s not Chance’s fault. Can’t you see it was fate? He was looking for me. He’d been looking for me a long time.” I watched as a puzzled frown covered my husband’s face, forcing him to sit.

“Mick…” He stopped, sighed loudly, and then shook his head. “Mick, do you really believe all this nonsense?”

An involuntarily shudder ripped through my body. “Yes, I do. But there’s more. I went to a medium while you were gone. He touched my hand and I saw myself. I saw myself in another life. I was giving birth. I’ve told you about my dreams, about the son I couldn’t find. You always thought I was talking about Derrick. I wasn’t. It was always my son from a past life. I know you’re not going to like this, or believe me but…the medium, I believe he’s my son from that lifetime.”

“Who did you go to this thing with? Was Chance involved with this?”

“Yes. He got the tickets.”

“Can’t you see what’s happening, Mick? Those guys are probably in this together. They’re using you. You’ve been vulnerable now for a few months. They saw this and concocted this elaborate scheme.”

He slapped his forehead. “Damn. I should have thought of this before. Honey, you’ve been conned.”

He was smiling, rising up from his chair to pull me with him. “Mick, it’s not you, it’s a scam. We’ll put those bastards away.” He hugged me to him. “God, Mick it’s going to be all right.”

“Larry, it’s not a scam.”

“Honey, it is. Think how ridiculous this sound. It’s just a scam. They’re after money.”

He started laughing. “Your husband in a past life, your son.” Tears were rolling down his cheeks. “You saw yourself dying in childbirth… Oh Mick… You’re right. I didn’t listen. If I had, I would have known sooner that you were being conned.”

“God! I can’t believe it. You’re still not hearing me. They aren’t conning me. I remember them both from my dreams. It’s true. I believe the dreams are my memories.”

“Think about it, Mick. You were never interested in this nonsense before this…this… Chance character came along. All this time you’ve been a sensible woman.”

I watched as he heaved a sigh of relief. Just like that he’d forgiven me. I wished for a moment it could be that easy. I thought about it. This was how we’d always handled any disagreements that came up during the years. Larry would dig around until he found a plausible reason that he could accept.

My insanity was now his reasonable explanation. That, and his believing Chance to be a con man. So what would I do?

I looked at Larry, wishing that for once that he’d listen to the woman he’d married, not his version of who I was. I didn’t want him to find a reason for my having slept with Chance. I knew why I’d done it. I’d wanted to.

“Honey, would you go with me to the medium? His name’s Blaine MaDia. If you go with me you can see for yourself that he’s not conning me. Will you go?”

“No, I won’t go.”

“How are we going to get past this if you’re not willing to open your mind to what I’m telling you?”

“My mind is open, Mick. I don’t have to go anywhere to know he’s conning you. Look at all the junk mail that comes for us every day. We get stuff from so-called psychics all over the country. You think some kid you met is going to get me to change my mind?”

“He’s not like that, Larry. There’s something about him. He has this energy surrounding him.” I was going to tell him about the arc, but decided not to. He was staring at me, no doubt deciding whether or not to have me committed.

I decided to try again. “Haven’t you seen that show on television? You know the one I mean, where that guy talks to the dead.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it. I hope he’s not the best you’ve got to build your case on. I also saw the show where this reporter did the same thing and got the same hysterical responses from the audience members.

“Those people want to believe, Mick. They’re unhappy. Why do you need to believe this? I don’t understand. Has your life with me been so miserable?” Larry asked.

I wanted to stop talking, to give in. There was no way the two of us would ever meet in the middle on this point. But this was the only time Larry had ever talked this long on the subject.

Granted, he was calling me crazy, but at least he was still in the room. “Honey, you know better than that. I’ve never been miserable with you.”

I stopped in mid-sentence. I was going to tell him I’d been contented, but I knew he wouldn’t want to hear that. He only wanted to hear that I’d been happy.

“If you haven’t been miserable, why all of a sudden have you starting acting like this? You’re scaring me.” He frowned. “I thought it was a hormonal problem. Now I’m worried that it might be more. Stop talking like this, Mick. Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

His words sounded like a threat to me. Could my husband be implying that he would have me committed? Did he think we still lived in the Middle Ages? Wanting to explain to him how I felt battled with my growing irritation at his mild intimidation tactic.

I couldn’t believe he was actually going to give me details. My blood began to boil over with anger as I listened to his solution to our problems.

“No more talk about having lived before. No more going to see any more psychics. No television shows, no books, no lectures, no talk of dreams. Nothing. And I don’t want you to ever mention his name again.”

He looked at me expecting that even after something as major as this I would eventually acquiesce. I leaned a little away from him, making my voice even. “So you don’t want me to mention whom? Chance or my son?”

He blanched visibly before answering me. “Call it what you want. If you don’t want me to file complaints against your,” he cringed, “your husband and your son, I suggest you do what I say. And I’m well aware of what century this is. I can still have you hospitalized for your own protection.” His voice was stern. He meant every word he’d said.

“Larry, let me tell you something you might not know. There are millions of people who believe in reincarnation and psychics. You can’t have me put away for that.” I laughed at him wondering how he had thought to frighten me with so weak a ploy.

I watched as a small smirk of satisfaction crossed his face and I wanted with all my heart to wipe it away. So I stared straight at my husband, knowing full well that I was pouring salt into the wounds I had created.

“Do you really want to know why I went to a hotel with a stranger?” I asked. “It was something that felt right to me. When they start locking people away for having affairs let me know.”

I reached for the cold cup of coffee, just for something to do. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold the cup.

“I’m not leaving you. I’m merely changing rooms. I’m also willing to compromise with you. I won’t see Chance again. I already told you that. And I won’t mention this to you again, but as for my interests, you can’t legislate what I read, watch, or what event I go to.”

“Mick,” he pleaded with me. “I hate sleeping apart from you. Last night was hell. Oh hell, honey, what am I talking about?” He attempted to smile. “The last two weeks have been hell. Come back to our room. I need you beside me. I need you in my bed. Don’t make me beg you, Mick. I need you.”