After the Fall (27 page)

CRESSIDA
•

The wedding was fun. I’d found I loved being anywhere public with Paul, loved showing him off and basking in his attention at the same time. Whenever Luke and I had gone out—to parties, trivia nights, what have you—I would barely see him all evening. I don’t think that he was already being unfaithful, though the possibility has crossed my mind. He never articulated a reason for his absences, though I understood it well enough. Coal to Newcastle, bananas to Africa. Luke may have loved me, but I was old news. Why stay with your wife when there was a whole room full of fresh people to charm? Paul is different. Grown-up, dare I suggest, and sure of his choices. He talks to others, but I’m the one who really captures his attention, whose company he plainly prefers. It’s new; I’m new; maybe that will wear off. Somehow, though, I don’t think so.

Luke was at the wedding, of course. I had wondered how it would feel to see him again, but when I did there was nothing—no pain, no longing, just some embarrassment at how blatant he was with that girl. I sensed him watching me once during the service and looked away. The other person I avoided was Kate, for obvious reasons. She didn’t seem all that great, actually, staying in the background and not even drinking, as far as I could tell. That wasn’t like the old Kate. She looked puffy, worn-out, and didn’t once get up to dance. Despite myself I felt a stab of triumph. I hoped she hurt; I hoped she saw Paul holding me close and wondered who he was. I hoped they both wondered. My turn to sparkle.

But though I wouldn’t look at Luke, Paul did—curious, he said, to see what sort of fool would throw away someone like me.

“He’s quite the player, your ex-husband,” he observed as we danced together.

“What did I tell you?” I asked.

“Yes, I know,” said Paul. “But I hadn’t expected him to be quite so …”

“Good-looking?”

“Out-there,” he responded firmly. “Oh, okay, then, handsome,” he amended, pulling me closer, completely unperturbed by the fact. “He’s bloody gorgeous, isn’t he? I imagine every woman in the room is hoping he will ask them to dance.”

I shuddered slightly, remembering another wedding. For a moment or two Paul and I watched as a bridesmaid threw herself at him and he bent down to whisper in her ear.

“See how he does it?” I found myself hissing at Paul. “Next he’ll be kissing her in the middle of the floor, or slipping off somewhere for a quick grope.”

As I said the words I realized I was angry, an emotion I thought I was through with. So there wasn’t quite nothing after all. But it was only anger, and I could live with that. No sorrow, no regret.

KATE
•

We left the wedding early. Three hours into the reception I couldn’t stand it anymore and told Cary I felt ill. I had been suffering morning sickness for the past two months, so I knew he wouldn’t question me. The balance may have shifted since the whole Luke thing, but when it came to this pregnancy I still held the ace.

Luke was there, of course. I’d been half hoping he wouldn’t be, unsure what reaction the sight of him would provoke. Anger? Lust? Regret? Only half hoping, though, because a part of me yearned to see his face again, to catch his eye and his attention, if only for a moment. Loving Luke had been the most powerful experience of my life, yet between his dismissal and Cary’s silence sometimes I wondered if I’d dreamed the whole thing up. I needed to reassure myself that he existed.

I got my wish. I saw him, all right—how could I miss him, standing by the altar with the bridal party, beautiful in black tie and drawing every eye toward him instead of Tim and Joan? I felt drab and dowdy in return, took Cary’s hand for solace without even meaning to. While the marriage certificate was being signed I watched Luke scan the congregation for Cressida. She in turn ignored or was unaware of him, deep in conversation with a silver-haired man on her left. And then he was looking for me; I was sure of it…. Suddenly terrified, I ducked my head and stared at the pew in front of me, but the heat of his gaze upon me drew my face up again. Our eyes met, and for a second there was a jolt of recognition, of acknowledgment. But it wasn’t enough. When he looked away I hungered for more.

I was distracted and restless throughout the rest of the service and dinner, annoying Cary as I toyed with cutlery at the table. I needed to see Luke. That I couldn’t do so easily made me feel trapped: by the event, by my condition, by the gold band still on my finger. I’d vowed never to speak to Luke again, but what was the point of that when everything in me craved him once more? Finally the speeches were over, and I got up, ignoring Cary’s questioning glance, got up with the intention of going to Luke. I don’t know what I intended to say, but it wasn’t simply hello.

Only he was busy. He was leaving, actually, with a bridesmaid, their arms around each other, the intent clear. She was clinging to him, and he in return was holding tight to her, hurrying toward the exit as if he couldn’t have her quickly enough. It was all unbearably familiar. I knew how he left functions—he’d left one with me once before.

Shattered, I sat down again. All of a sudden I found myself alone at our table, the others dancing or deep in conversation elsewhere. Something rose up in my throat, and with horror I realized it was panic and tears. The room contracted and I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. Inside I felt the strangest thump—my heart breaking, perhaps. Just then Cary materialized. “Are you okay?” he asked, and I shook my head no.

“Come on then,” he said tenderly, and took my arm. “Let’s get you out of here.”

I’d never been so glad for his touch. We left immediately, through a side door, without saying good-bye or wishing the happy couple all the best. It was probably rude, but I didn’t care. Would I ever see them again? I hoped not. For better or worse, that part of my life was irrevocably over, gone the minute Luke had swept that bridesmaid out of the room. Cary steered me out into the calm of the evening and I took great gulps of air, breathing as if emerging from a long time underwater. I felt better by the minute, though the thumping continued. It wasn’t until we were halfway home that I realized what it was: the kicks of our child, resonating through my body for the first time.

CARY
•

The wedding? It was okay as far as weddings go. Tim is a good guy and I wished him well. For all that had ensued since the last nuptials we attended, it was actually pretty straightforward. Kate was subdued and stayed close to my side. Luke was best man and made a fool of himself with a bridesmaid. I almost felt sorry for my wife and the ease with which she had been replaced. Tim looked ecstatic and Joan triumphant. Cressida just looked great, beaming and beautiful and cared for. Watching her with her new partner, it suddenly occurred to me that maybe, just maybe, it was her I should have pursued after all, back when it was just us and the hospital we both loved, before either Kate or Luke had thrust themselves into our lives. She came over to say hello and was so gentle, so warm … but it was only for a minute, and laughable, really, with Kate wan and pregnant at my side, mine inside and out. Really, the whole thing was far easier than I’d imagined. I’m glad we went.

It’s hard to remember much now. These days we stay home a lot more, and that suits me. That wedding was the last big event we attended before Joel was born. Kate might miss going out, but I don’t. Finally, I have everything I want: my wife and our child, faces that turn toward me when I come home at night.

They look up when I enter the room, lamps lit behind them. Kate is so beautiful as she nurses Joel that the burst of happiness is like a knife in my side; the lump in my throat feels as if it will choke me. My joy is magnified by the pain it has taken to achieve all this, the way hunger improves the taste of a meal.

Joel looks just like her, except his hair is bright blond. Mine was too as a child, though it’s much darker now. Sometimes I catch her stroking that hair, fingers tangled in its silkiness, her face a mask. I ask her what she is thinking about and she smiles slightly and says she never has time to think anymore. After the life Kate was used to I wonder if the days feel long, but she doesn’t complain. I call her to chat, but lately she’s never home, or doesn’t answer if she is. Maybe she’s turned the phone down so it doesn’t wake the baby. Perhaps I should get her a new cell phone.

Occasionally and against my will I find myself thinking about last year. Silly things remind me—seeing Cressida’s name on a roster at work, Kate not answering though I ring and ring. Really, she’s probably taking Joel for a walk. The bottom line is that she’s mine again and we’re happy. We’re together. It’s pointless to dwell on anything else. Picking away at scars only reopens them.

And besides, all that’s in the past, and that’s not the direction I’m headed.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
•

After the Fall
has benefited from the guidance of a number of remarkable women. In particular, I wish to thank my agents, Pippa Masson in Australia and Stéphanie Abou in the United States, for taking me on and for all their enthusiasm and assistance along the way. For their wisdom, advice, encouragement, and attention to detail, I am also deeply indebted to Jackie Montalvo of Doubleday and Jane Palfreyman of Allen & Unwin. My sincere gratitude to all—it has been a pleasure and a privilege to have worked with you.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2009 by Kylie Ladd

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Doubleday, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.
www.doubleday.com

Originally published in Australia in paperback by Allen & Unwin, Crows Nest, in 2009.

DOUBLEDAY
and the DD colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

LIBRARY OF CONGRESS CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA
Ladd, Kylie.
  After the fall / by Kylie Ladd. 1st U.S. ed.
    p. cm.
  First published: Crows Nest, N.S.W. : Allen & Unwin, 2009.
1. Married people—Fiction. 2. Adultery—Fiction. 3. Domestic fiction. I. Title.
  PR9619.4.L335A69 2010
  823′.92—dc22
  2009042318

eISBN: 978-0-385-53282-2

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