Authors: Eve Rabi
RIVAL
The moment Bradley sees me, he strides up to me. “You said you weren’t going to see him again!” he hisses through clenched teeth.
“I’m not,” I say and walk into the kitchen.
He follows me into the kitchen and shuts the inter-leading door behind him. “You’re lying. You’re a fucking liar!”
“I’m not seeing him. I swear!”
“Pardon me, but that’s not altogether true,” Scarlett says, opening the inter-leading door and sashaying into the kitchen. She shakes her phone at Bradley.
Fuck
!
Bradley cocks his head at her.
Without a word, she hits play on her phone and hands it to him. “Footage of their clandestine affair, honey. Ritchie and Rival, fucking on the quiet for a while now. And you’re right, she is a liar.” With a look of glee on her face, she hands him the phone.
I’m am so busted, all I can do is groan in anguish.
As Bradley watches the video, his face darkens and he gnashes his teeth.
“You are such a bitch!” I say to Scarlett.
She shrugs, a huge smirk on her face. “My crash helmet is on. Is yours?”
“You’re not gonna get out of this unscathed,” I hiss.
“You’re fucking kidding me!” Bradley exclaims as he watches. “Oh boy, am I gonna go after that fucker. He won’t know what hit him. I swear…”
My heart sinks at his words. Even though I am mad at Ritchie and even though I don’t want anything to do with him, I don’t want Bradley to hurt him in any way.
Chapter Twenty-Four
SCARLETT
Phoebe can be such a darling sometimes. Sometimes. I could kiss her for telling on Rival. And Bradley is, as expected, livid. Luckily I have my footage ready to spur things along. Since I have ring-side seats to Rival’s slaughtering, and while my husband watches my destructive footage, I put my mixology skills to use and fix Bradley and me cocktails. Nothing for Rival the slut.
Bradley shakes his head as he watches my video footage. “You’re a fucking liar, Rival! You’re still seeing him.”
Rival shifts around in her end-of-season-sale shoes. “Bradley, I…I…look, it’s over, okay? We did see each other, because…because…Bradley, I love him, but –”
“No! Don’t say that. You do
not
love him!”
“– it’s over now and I’m sorry.”
“How can it be over when you fight with him in front of my kids? Today? Huh? Get out of my house. Now! You will never see my kids again.”
“Bradley, calm down,” Rival says, appearing flustered. “We’re done. It’s over between Ritchie and me. Get it? Finally. Trust me.”
Bradley grabs her arm and steers her out of the house. “Get out of my house!”
At last. Hallelujah!
“No!” She shrugs him off, hard enough for him to almost lose his balance. “Just you wait!” she snarls.
My husband, the little pussy, actually appears intimidated by her display of aggression. For a few moments, they eye each other in silence.
“I’d like to put a bullet through his numb skull. End it once and for all,” my husband says, having found his nuts again.
“There’s no need for that,” Rival says in a calming voice. “We aren’t seeing each other anymore. It’s over, I swear.”
“You are such a deceitful bitch!” Bradley rants.
Rival puts a hand to her forehead and closes her eyes, a weary look on her face. “Bradley, stop. Just –”
He lunges at her and yanks at the hand covering the eyes. “Look at me, dammit. You loved me. You wanted me. You pursued –”
“I’m here, Bradley. Here, with you.”
“– me.”
“I gave him up, okay? I’m here.”
“Stop taking me for a fool!”
She falls silent.
“When?” he demands. “When did you stop loving me, Rival? When? Answer me.”
She looks up at him and blinks rapidly. It’s a while before she speaks. “When you
demanded
that I love you.” Her voice is small, barely a whisper.
Slowly, Bradley runs the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip.
She nods, that weary look in her eye now replaced by one of defiance. “You’ve changed, Bradley. You’ve morphed into someone I don’t know, a stranger. I can’t click with you anymore.”
“No I haven’t! I am Bradley Murdoch, attorney extraordinaire, I –”
“That’s your problem,” she says shaking her index finger at him. “That there.
Attorney extraordinaire
…” she shakes her head. “Have you looked in the mirror recently, Bradley? No? You should, because I have a feeling that if you really look at yourself, you will not like what you see.
Who
you see. I swear you won’t. Bradley, the man I married, the man I loved with all my heart, has disappeared and I…I miss him.”
He blinks rapidly at her.
“I’m trying to love you, Bradley, but you’re a shell of your former self. You’re so unhappy, you’re so empty, you’re so…Bradley, you’re a tightly woven ball of steel wool. That’s who you are these days.”
Bradley paces, appearing disturbed by her words.
“I don’t want to love Ritchie, but I do.” She crosses her hands over her heart. “I love Ritchie so much that I ache with want.”
“No, don’t say that!” Bradley yells, shaking his finger at her.
“Never have I felt this kind of love before, Bradley. I’m sorry, this is me being honest. You want honesty, here it is. I’m dying without him. He took care of me, bought me a laptop, and even tried to help me win you over. He’s my kryptonite, Bradley.”
“Stop saying that, Rival!”
“You have to let me go, Bradley. You have to.”
Bradley shakes his head.
“Bradley, I can’t give you what you want. I’m trying to, but I can’t. I want you to be happy with Scarlett. Please, let me go. Please. This is killing me. Be fair, you left me. Abandoned me. Allowed your girlfriend to have me institutionalized. You robbed me, Bradley. I know that you did.
You
know that you did.”
He turns away from her. “I don’t wanna hear this.”
“She changed my medication. You know that. You wronged me, and worse, you allowed that prostitute, yes, I know about the solicitation charges, Bradley; you allowed her to destroy me and you didn’t care about me.”
“How do you know about the solicitation –”
“Had you not found out her history, you would never have looked my way again. Is it my fault that things didn’t work out for you? You blackmail me into staying with you, and I don’t want to. I don’t love you, Bradley. My skin crawls when you touch me. I’m sorry if I’m hurting you, but this poison inside of me, it needs to be expelled. I am at breaking point, Bradley.
You
are breaking me.
Again
.” As she talks, she drops to her knees, her body folds forward and her forehead touches the ground like a two-year-old. “I miss him so much, Bradley. I miss him. I miss Ritchie so much. I miss him. I miss him. ” For a while, all we hear is the sounds of Rival’s sobs.
Then to my utter surprise, Bradley walks over to her and hoists her to her feet. “If…if you really love him, Rival, then…go to him.”
She stares at him with her mouth slightly opened.
He nods, then releases her. “Go,” he says as he backs away from her. “I’m giving you your freedom, and I won’t stop you from seeing the kids. Go to Big. Be happy. At least one of us will be. I
know
he will make you happy. I can’t. Your skin crawls when I touch you, so go. Just go before I change my mind, Rival.” He walks into the house, while she stares silently at him, a look of confusion on her blotchy, wet face. Rival remains where she is long after Bradley leaves the scene. A few minutes later, she staggers to her feet, grabs her bag and drags herself to her car.
RIVAL
I sit in my car in the driveway with tears streaming down my cheeks. I am haunted by the look on Bradley’s face. He wilted before my very eyes. Crushed – that’s what he was in the end.
I
crushed him, and I feel absolutely rotten about it. How could I have done that? How could I have said such nasty things to him? Maybe Ritchie was right after all – maybe I have turned into Scarlett. Or am I having a breakdown?
Suddenly someone is knocking at my window. I look up into Mabel’s daughter’s face. “Rival? You okay?” Brianna asks.
I open my mouth to speak, but fail to utter any words. Instead, a fresh batch of tears flow down my face and collect under my chin.
She points to her house. “Mum says you must come over and have a cup of tea with us.”
I look past her and see Mabel and Sarah looking at me. Mabel vigorously beckons me over. No doubt they’ve heard the shouting.
I shake my head from side to side. “But th…thanks.” Quickly, I start the engine and slip the car into gear.
“Okay. But you gonna be alright to drive, Rival? I mean, I can drive you if you like?”
“I’m okay, Brianna, thanks,” I say and drive off.
I guess the anger and resentment of the last couple of months, coupled with my heartache of losing Ritchie, has just boiled over.
Bradley told me to go to Ritchie – did he mean it? What if he was bluffing, testing me? What if I take him at face value and he gets mad, seeks retribution? Besides, after what I told Ritchie, I’ve ensured a point of no return with us.
At home, I lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling. Should I apologize to Bradley?
Even though I am angry at Bradley, I understand his jealousy and anger. Been there, done that. After a lot of thought, I send him a text.
Im sorry for the hurtful things I said Im sorry Bradley
Bradley does not respond to my texts.
SCARLETT
Bradley shuffles back into the house, places both hands on the dining table and stares hard at it.
“You okay?” I ask.
Ignoring me, he raises his head and catches his reflection in the hallway mirror. Slowly, as if he’s in a trance, he walks over to it and peers at the mirror. For about thirty seconds he stares at it, and as he does, he shakes his head from side to side as if he’s having a conversation with himself. Suddenly, he punches the mirror with his bare hand. The beveled Stoneleigh and Robertson mirror that costs over two grand shatters.
“Bradley! What the hell?” I scream.
He doesn’t look at me. Instead, he runs over to another mirror, looks at it and, ignoring his bleeding hand, punches it. That antique gold mirror shatters too.
“Bradley, will you stop!”
But it’s as if he isn’t seeing me – ignoring the blood dripping all over, he scans the place, and when his eyes fall on a solid silver candlestick holder, he grabs it and slams it into two more mirrors.
“Bradley have you gone mad?” I ask, running behind him.
Still ignoring me, he runs upstairs and slams the candlestick holder into each mirror, breaking them all. Soon, every wall mirror in the house has been broken. All sixteen of them. Then he tosses aside the bloodied candlestick holder and sits on the top stair, his eyes to the floor, his body heaving, blood all over his clothes and face.
I’m too scared to approach him now. Clearly he’s in a dark place. What if he turns on me? I can’t call the cops, but maybe I can call Ritchie?
After a while, I walk up to him with a bandage, worried that he will push me down the stairs. He doesn’t fight me, to my relief. In silence, I bandage his hand.
Slowly, he lifts his face to look at me. A bolt of panic shoots through me. Is he going to hit me? Yell at me? Push me down the stairs?
“Thank you,” he whispers in a meek voice. His bout of unexpected civility takes me by total surprise.
He gets up and staggers over to our dressing room. I follow him in. To my utter surprise, he grabs some suitcases and throws them on the bed. He opens closet doors and starts pulling clothes off hangers and throwing them into the cases.
“Bradley, wha…what are you doing?”
“I’m leaving you, Scarlett,” he says as he throws more stuff into the suitcase. “I’m done fighting.”
I’m shocked at his actions, and even more shocked that he used my name – he actually called me Scarlett. “Wha…what about becoming prime…?”
“I no longer want to. I don’t want
anything
. I just want to be left alone with my children. Please.”
“But…but …”
“Every time I think about us, about us being together for the rest of our lives, my stomach clenches, and I need some antacid, Scarlett.”
What a thing to say to your wife. Doesn’t he realize how much his words hurts me? Has he forgotten I am a human being with feelings?
“You want to be prime minister, go get it yourself. You don’t need me, Scarlett. You’re capable. Very. Seriously, Scarlett, you can do it. You are the most capable woman I know.”
He returns to his packing.
“But…the house? What about –”
“Keep it. I’ve been holding onto it for so long, and look at me now – I’m a total mess. My wife loves someone else, I’m mean to you, I can’t bear to look at myself in the mirror, I’m not there for my daughters…” He gives a dismissive wave. “Keep it. I will just have to start my life again. If I can just find me again. I need to. Badly.” He walks into the bathroom and returns with his toothbrush and other toiletries.
I stare at my husband with my jaw hanging. He’s serious. For him to tell me to keep a multi-million dollar property, he’s serious. Suddenly, everything crystalizes. It’s over. I can no longer cling to a man whose gut clenches whenever he thinks of me. Who is, and has been, covered in the slippery butter of resentment for months. I have to release him. I have to let go. It is time.
“Bradley,” I say. “You take the house. I will move out.”
He stops packing and looks at me.
“It’s not my house, it’s your house, Bradley. I will not do that to you or to the girls who I have grown so fond of. I still love you and I love our girls, b…but…” My voice breaks. “I will l…leave. You’re right; it’s time to walk away. End the hurt.”
It’s a while before he speaks. “You serious, Scarlett?” Each time he says my name, my heart lurches. Nobody says it like he does.