The Other Woman (16 page)

9:01 p.m.
Share if someone you know is battling drugs.
#saynotodrugs

To my absolute horror she posts a photo of a woman resembling me.

But this woman’s eyes are glazed, her brassy blonde hair is a mess, her clothes look dirty and stained, her mascara is running, and she has a cigarette dangling from her lips. The caption reads:
Who says drugs are
glamorous
?
The only coke you should do is diet.

I’m mortified at her insinuation. How could she do this? It’s like she knows I’m watching and she wants to hurt me.

10:33 p.m.
3000 thread-count sheets, mohair blankets, a sexy man to snuggle with.

#Whatmorecanagirlaskfor?

She posts a photo of her and Brad’s toes entwined.

This time it’s too much – I click out of Facebook and pace in the dark. Anger, hurt, and helplessness – a deadly cocktail to imbibe at night.

I want to kill Scarlett. I want to kill her now. I want her death to be painful, slow, gruesome.

Oh God, I want to kill her!

****

RIVAL

My eyes flicker open at 7 a.m., and immediately I grab my laptop and log onto Facebook.

Scarlett:
Espresso, espresso, wherefore art thou? #needacaffeinehitrightaway

Mm. When I’m not reading Scarlett’s posts, I lie in bed, stare at the ceiling, and stew in the unfairness of the situation.

Fair enough, Scarlett owed me no loyalty, but Bradley? He
owed
it to me. He was my
husband
. Not my boyfriend, not my lover, my
husband
. I bore him two kids. He owed me loyalty. Owes me an explanation, owes me answers. How dare he just drop me like that?

That affair that he and Scarlett were having; did it start before I got ill?

Did sparks fly when she came to dinner? Were they making eyes at each other behind my back while I was cubing cheese and lighting candles?

That night, they disappeared to fetch olives from the supermarket while I took a shower – I remember Bradley looking really flustered, now that I think about it. The moment he walked into the house and saw Scarlett there, he became anxious. What happened when they were alone?

They were gone for a while – did they have sex in the car?

When was the first time he fucked her?

Where
did they fuck? In my bed?

Whose idea was it for him to come up with that bullshit about my house being structurally unsound and infested with beetles so that he had to sell it for a pittance?

How is it he is still living in the house if it is that bad?

I want answers to my question. After all, I don’t deserve what I got. My deal is raw, unfair, and I feel violated.

I was the love of Bradley’s life, the woman who stood by him no matter what we went through, managed the fires at home so he could work uninterrupted and become a success. I asked for nothing, I was understanding, and I trusted him. How could he turn on me like that?

Furious, I lunge at the picture of the neon jar on my wall and rip it off.

After tearing it to pieces, I throw it in the thrash. No amount of neon felt pens and deep and meaningful talks with Arena can salve the unbridled hurt churning inside of me, seeping through my pores like some toxic poison.

Why won’t he answer my questions, my texts? Why won’t he give me the answers I need? I so badly need to know.

****

RIVAL

I wake up to the sounds of excited childrens’ voices, the clanging of pots and pans, and the smell of burnt toast.

It’s Mother’s Day. Bear and his kids are making breakfast for Arena in bed.

Yesterday I took the kids to the park, where we secretly made cards and wrote poems for Arena.

Earlier on that day, Bear and I took the kids shopping and bought a gold wrist chain with a heart on it for Arena, along with chocolates, red and pink roses, pink satin slippers, and a soft pink and white floor-length robe.

At the mall yesterday, we bumped into Ritchie and his kids. They were buying gifts for Liefie
and
for Girly. I thought it was sweet of him to consider Girly. Grudgingly.

As I watched everyone around me bristle with excitement, I tried my best not to think about my kids, not to wonder if they would think of me, their
real
mother, on that special day.

I tried not to imagine how many gifts they would, together with Bradley, buy for Scarlett, the woman who stole my life.

A lump the size of a tennis ball burned in my throat as I battled my thoughts. And continue battling them.

Will they call? Will Bradley do the right thing and call me? I doubt it.

Suddenly, I feel like I’m sinking in mud. My head feels heavy, my arms and legs become stiff, and my eyes burn. I should be up and about helping Bear, but I find it so hard to move.

A knock at my door has me quickly wiping away tears.

Warren and Amy open my door and smile at me. “We brought you breakfast in bed too,” Amy says.

“And chocolates,” Warren says.

“And…” Little Savannah thrusts a bunch of pink roses at me.

Behind them stands Bear with a tray.

I’m not their mother, yet they are thinking about me. To their horror and mine, I burst into tears. I can’t help it, the tears just gush. All of them stare at me with slack jaws. For a few moments, all I can hear is the sounds of loud sobbing. Mine. “I’m s…sorry,” I say. “Th…thank…thank...I’m so…”

Arena bursts through her family in her new pink and white robe along with her pink satin slippers, and hurries to take me in her arms.

That is when I break before their very eyes. I clutch onto her and sob, bawl my eyes out. “I miss them so m…much.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she says as she holds my heaving body while Bear quietly shoos the kids downstairs. “I’ve been there. Don’t worry, I know what you’re going through. Let it out. Let it all out.”

And I do. For about an hour, I cry non-stop, unable to be strong any longer.

I’ve ruined their day and I feel terrible about it, but the Shaws constantly assure me that I did not.

They are all driving to Canberra to visit Amy’s mother, Bear’s ex-wife. After that, they plan to stay a week at a resort before returning to Sydney.

“Please come with us,” Arena begs, her eyes scanning my face, worry lines all around her mouth. “It’ll be a lovely drive.”

I politely turn them down and help them pack.

“Are you sure?” Arena asks several times.

“Absolutely. I’ll go for walks, catch a movie, just chill…”

Reluctantly, Arena nods. As I watch them leave, I think of all the times Bradley and I used to take family holidays together. It used to be so exciting to pack and hit the open road. Imagine, all that will never happen again.

Suddenly, I am assailed by a terrible sense of loss, of being misplaced, superfluous. I’m not needed by
anyone
in this world. Another hole forms in my shredded soul, and a tsunami of tears follows.

Hoping to distract myself, I sit in front of the TV and try to watch a movie. It’s no use, I cannot concentrate. For a while, I pace the empty house. Then I do something I haven’t done in almost a year – I pour myself a glass of wine. A glass of merlot.

An hour later, I have finished four glasses of wine and I’m busy texting Bradley.

Rival:
Its Mothers Day how could u not get the kids to call me I want to see the kids

Bradley:
Rival its 7 at nite too late they r sleeping

Rival: then I wan to speak to u

Bradley: about wat

Rival:
I want answers to my questions I want to c my kids n I wan to no when you took up wid that slut give me answers I need u owe it to me

Bradley
: Rival …u are sick get better then we can talk

Rival:
NO BRADLEY I WANT TO TALK NOW TODAY

Bradley
: get better then we can talk

Rival
: no today im sick of waiting u owe me answers

Bradley
: get better then we can talk

Rival:
Fuck u Bradley fuck u I am ur wife

Bradley
: RIVAL GET WELL THEN WE CAN TALK OK?????

Rival
: go fuck urself Bradley u are a cunt to do what u did to me if u don’t talk to me I will come to ur office then u will have to talk to me

Bradley
: u r harassing me don’t force me to get tough on u

Rival
: fuck u dont threaten me wat u gonna do lock me away n rob me?????

Rival
: again?

Rival
: huh

Bradley
: U r provoking me

Rival
: fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u

At 9 p.m. I am still texting Bradley. My texts are abusive and angry, and my threats are creative.

Bradley:
Carry on like this n I wil have to cal the cops Rival I don wan to do that but I wil have no choice.

Rival
: fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u fuck u

He doesn’t answer.

Rival:
answer me u dumb cunt

Rival:
stop hiding u owe me answers

Rival:
U dog u bastard

Bradley makes the mistake of ignoring a drunk woman, and all hell breaks loose.

****

SCARLETT

You are never going to believe this, but I have exciting news. Rival has just shown up on our doorstep, ranting and raving, drunk as a skunk.

“Open the fucking door, Bradley!” she screams. “Open the door, so I can fucking talk to you.”

Bradley moves to open the door. I grab his arm. “Bradley, the last time she assaulted me, remember? What if she has a knife? What if she hurts me and the kids?”

“I don’t think she would,” he says, appearing a little hesitant. “She just wants to talk, Scarlett.”

“No, Bradley, she’s at our door at
night
, probably walked over here, because I can’t see her car, and judging from her voice, she’s drunk. You really want to take such a chance?”

“This is my house, Bradley! I built it,” she shouts. “You stole it from me. That’s why you can’t look me in the eye.”

“Oh God,” Bradley says, his palm to his forehead. “What would the neighbors think?”

“BRADLEY! I will kill you I swear, if you don’t open this fucking DOOR!”

“I’m calling the cops,” I say.

“No, no, no, don’t. Take the kids to the back room and shut the—”

“Why? She’s scaring me, Bradley. The cops—”

“Scarlett, it’s Mother’s Day, and she's probably just upset and—”

“Mother’s Day? She’s the junkie who left her kids in the mall, and she expects them to – “

“BRADLEY!”

“Look, I’ll handle her,” he says, his brows knitting. “Just – “

“Bradley, don’t,” I say, and step in front of him.

“Scarlett, get out of the fucking way!” he hisses and shoves me aside.

I am so stunned by his display of physical aggression, I just stare at him as he throws open the door and talks to her with just the security gate between the two of them.

“What do you want, Rival?”

“I want you to talk to me, Bradley,” she says. “I’m sick of you ignoring me, treating me like I don’t exist, like I don’t count. These are my kids, I wanna see them.”

Quickly, I hurry over and stand behind Bradley.

“My God!” I mutter as I take in her ill-fitting jeans, her hooded pink sweatshirt that makes her look like a giant candy cane, her cheap sneakers, and her limp ponytail. Her face is flushed and her eyes are wide.

“You’ve been drinking?” I sneer.

She lifts and drops her shoulders. “So? I drank a couple of glasses of wine. What’s it to you? Huh?”

“Are you high again, Rival?” I ask.

“Fuck you, Scarlett! I don’t do drugs. I never did. So shut the fuck UP!”

“Hey! Don’t you speak to her like that,” Bradley says. “We have kids around.”

“Yeah? Well, that’s why I’m here. I wanna see my kids.”

“Not in the state you’re in,” Scarlett says.

“Stay out of this, you SLUT!” She rattles the gates.

“Hey!” Bradley says, pushing me behind him. “You watch it.”

“She has no business interfering, Bradley,” Rival says.

“I’m not inter—”

“Scarlett, be quiet,” Bradley whispers to me.

“I have every right to, Bradley,” I say hotly. “I take care of the—”

“Scarlett!” Bradley hisses. “Shut up!”

“Yeah, Scarlett,” Rival says in a sneering voice, “shut up. Listen to
my
husband.”

I give her the finger.

“Listen," Bradley says, turning to Rival, “I don’t wanna have this conversation right now.”

“Then when?" she asks. “You keep ignoring my calls.”

“Rival, we’re done,” he says. “I don’t have to speak to you.”

“We’re done, Bradley? Just like that? I am your wife, the mother of your children, the rightful owner of this house, yet you stand behind a gate and speak to me as if I am a…a past, disgruntled employee?”

“It’s
former
disgruntled employee,” I add from behind him.

She ignores my comment. “I’m a nice person, Bradley. I’ve never harmed anyone, why would you treat—”

“Why don’t you take your
nice
li’l self back home and sleep it off?” I say. “Then when you wake up, you will be even nicer.”

“Nice?” she shrieks. “You make it sound like being nice is a bad thing?”

“Well, nice, boring – whatever – just take
your
nice li’l self back to the dark hole you live in and—”

“Fuck you, Scarlett!” she screams, to my delight. “You slut, you whore, you—”

“That’s it,” Bradley says. “I’m done.” He shuts the door on her face.

I love it when a plan comes together – who said that? I can’t remember, but Rival is pissed and my man is standing up for me.

“Bradley!” Rival screams. “Open the fucking door, you arsehole!”

Bradley stands behind the door, his eyes to the floor, his forehead lined. He’s already feeling bad about her living with Bear and Arena, and now she’s making him feel worse.

“Bradley, I will kill you. I will kill you both, you hear?”

“Rival, is that you?” I hear a voice ask.

I rush to the window and see Mabel, our neighbor from across the road. A nosey old bag who likes to poke her nose in everyone’s business.

“Come here, dear,” Mabel says.

Rival ignores her.

"Shit!” Bradley says. “All the neighbours are going to be talking.”

“Don’t you hide behind that door!” Rival screams.

The next thing we know, a potted plant shatters the window and lands on the floor.

“Ohmygod! She’s out of control,” I say. “I’m calling the cops.”

“No, don’t!” Bradley says, just before he flings open the door again, and the security gate.

“What is wrong with you, Rival?” he yells.

Quietly, I call the cops.

“You want to go to jail, Rival?” Bradley says. “Huh? You wanna go back to Dunhill? Look what you’ve done!” He waves at the broken glass lying around.

“Speak to me, Bradley. Just treat me like a person. Don’t treat me like a shopping bag that you use and dispose of. I’m the mother of your—”

“I have nothing to say to you. How many times must I tell you this, Rival?”

“Fine. You have nothing to say to me. I will accept that, even though what you’re doing is wrong. I will accept it, because I have no choice. But I wanna see my kids. I was a good mother. You know that.”

“Clearly, you weren’t a good mother, or you wouldn’t abandon your kids in a mall,” I pipe from behind him.

“Scarlett, shut the fuck UP!” she screams and lunges at me. Bradley has to hold her flailing arms to stop her from assaulting me.