What's Done In the Dark (22 page)

“Believe you? I don’t know how I’ll ever believe anything you say again. Here I am trying to figure out what’s wrong with me. What I’m doing wrong to the point that you can’t even stomach my touch. And it wasn’t even about me? You were feeling guilty because you slept your best friend’s husband
on our anniversary
?” He stopped his rant and stood, pensive. “Wait, so . . . d-did you kill him?”

“No!” I exclaimed. “The next morning, I woke up to find he wasn’t breathing. And I freaked out and just left.”

“Oh, this just keeps getting better!” Greg released a pained laugh. “You sleep with him, you cheat on me, and then you leave him for dead? Did you even call for help?”

“He was already dead. I didn’t know what to do.”

He stared through me, totally repulsed.
“I don’t even know you.” He headed toward the door. “I wish you were cheating with some random guy.” He spun around to face me. “That, I could handle. That was payback for my indiscretion years ago. I rationalized that. An eye for an eye. But this . . . Our friend? My child calls him
uncle
!” He shook his head. “I need to get out of here before I catch a case.”

The disgusted look on his face broke my heart. The hurt expression tore at my insides, and the rage in his eyes told me I might have made the biggest mistake ever by coming clean.

45

Felise

I HAD WONDERED IF MAVIS
had told her husband, Charles, about my situation. Judging from the look of disdain on his face, I realized she must have.

“Hello, Charles,” I said anyway.

“Umph,” he grunted as he stepped aside to let me in. “Mavis, it’s your sister,” he called out before disappearing back into the den.

Mavis came out of the kitchen, an apron wrapped around her waist. “Hey, lil sis. I was just cooking. What brings you by?”

“I just stopped by to see what you were up to.” I felt so awful about everything with Greg yesterday. I hadn’t slept at all. I’d called in sick to work, and I needed my sister to tell me that I had done the right thing. Not that it mattered now, but I needed to talk to her.

“Just cooking dinner. Phillip will be home for another two weeks before school starts,” she said, referring to my nephew. “You know he doesn’t eat worth anything up at that
college, so I’m fixing all of his favorite things, fattening him up before he goes back.”

I glanced back toward the door to make sure Charles was out of sight. “Why did you tell Charles?” I whispered.

She glanced over her shoulder, too, back toward the den, then motioned for me to follow her.

“Girl, I didn’t tell Charles,” she said once we were back in the kitchen. She lowered her voice. “Your husband did. He called Charles last night and told him everything. You didn’t tell me you used Liz’s college money to pay that girl off.”

“I only used some of it. I was going to pay it back. How else did you think I was getting the money?” I asked when I saw the look of shock on her face.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think about it. But your daughter’s college fund?”

“I was desperate, Mavis.” I didn’t expect my sister to understand. Hell, I didn’t even understand. I didn’t know who this woman was that I had turned into.

She gave me a sympathetic look. “I know how hard this is for you, so I’m not going to beat you up anymore.”

“Greg is pretty upset.” I slid into a seat at the kitchen table.

“You do understand why, don’t you?”

“I do. I just hope he forgives me.” Even as I repeated the refrain that had been running through my head all night long, my heart told me it wasn’t going to happen.

“Well, time heals all wounds, so we’ll see. But don’t you feel better about coming clean?”

I cut my eyes at her. This was one time I probably should
have listened to Fran. “No.”

“Well, right now you don’t. But think about it. You don’t have to spend the rest of your days wondering if Sabrina is going to pop up out of the woodwork, and you don’t have to build one lie on top of the other.”

I fidgeted with the salt and pepper shakers. “Almost. Paula still doesn’t know.” I knew that she was next on the list. She needed to hear it from me before Sabrina told her.

“I’m going to tell her. I have to. I just don’t know when. You don’t think Greg would tell her?” I asked, experiencing a sudden panic. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“I believe Greg really cares for Paula as well, so he wouldn’t want to further hurt her like that,” Mavis replied.

I nodded. “And he hasn’t said he’s leaving me for good. Greg is the type that if he stays, he wouldn’t want anyone to know. That’s why I’m a little shocked that he told Charles.”

“Well, I’m praying it all works out,” my sister said as she went back to stirring a huge pot on the stove. “I added you to the prayer circle at church. You might want to consider coming.”

“Nah, I’m good. I don’t think the Lord wants to hear from me right about now.”

“He wants to hear from you all the time.” She flashed a chastising look. “Not just when you’re in trouble.” She set the spoon down, wiped her hands again, and came over and sat across from me at the table.

“You know how I feel about what you did,” she said. “But I also believe acceptance is a very important part to being able to move on. Acceptance will put an end to your internal struggle—the one where you keep wishing the affair had not happened the way it did or hurt as many people. Once you
stop struggling with what happened, calmness will start to take its place and you can find the peace you need.”

That was laughable. Even if Greg forgave me, I didn’t see how I’d ever be at peace with what I’d done.

“I see your disbelief all over your face,” she said. “God is capable of creating calm in the midst of a storm.” Before I could respond, my sister took my hands, bowed her head, and began praying. At first, I was a little stunned, and then I began listening intently as she prayed for peace. Nothing else. Not for Greg or Paula to forgive me. Just peace.

“What was that for?” I asked when she was done.

“Because you need it,” she said. “Now, learn to do that for yourself, and you might find your situation doing a huge turnaround.” She stood and returned to the stove. Picking up the large spoon she was using to stir, she said, “You’ve got to try some of this chili. I think I finally make it better than Mama.”

46

Paula

IF BURYING MY HUSBAND WAS
the hardest thing I ever had to do, this was the second hardest.

I put his Nike T-shirt up to my nose and inhaled. Even though it was clean, it still had his scent. I took a deep breath, folded it, and placed it in the box with the rest of his belongings.

I had been putting off this day since we put Steven in the ground. But sleeping in this room every night, surrounded by all things Steven, was making my healing harder.

I’d gone to a support group over the weekend. I wanted someone who was objective, who didn’t know me or Steven. I needed someone to give me feedback on my grief. I had pushed aside all the things I didn’t know—if he was with another woman, who she was, etc.—and just focused on my grief. I learned that everything I was feeling was natural. Each of the women, and men, in the group had felt the same at one time or another. And while they’d said every
person’s length of grieving was different, I sided with those who felt that in order to move on, they had to move out their loved ones’ belongings.

I had to do it because every time I saw Steven’s things, I wanted to cry. And while crying was healthy, it was keeping me locked in place. And for that reason, I knew that I needed to pack up his belongings.

My cell phone rang, and I answered when I saw Felise’s name “Hey, Felise.”

Silence filled the phone.

“Felise?”

“H-hey, Paula,” she said. “Um, what are you doing?”

“Doing what I told you I would do—packing up Steven’s things.”

I had called Felise last night about my decision, and she thought it was a good idea as well. To my surprise, though, she had offered to come over to be here with me because she knew how difficult it would be. She had said she wanted to talk to me, but I wasn’t in the mood for an it’s-time-to-move-on pep talk. I was doing this, but on my own terms.

“Wow. So, you’re really doing it?”

I had shifted his workout clothes out of the bottom drawer into a box. I hadn’t decided what I was going to do with all his stuff. I wasn’t ready to give it away just yet, so I was placing it in the attic for storage.

“Yeah, I know. I figured, why keep putting it off?”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to help?” Felise asked. “I can come over there now. We can pack up, then, um, maybe we can sit down and, you know, just, um, talk.”

“Thank you so much, but I’m sure.”
I glanced around the room. I needed to be alone. “I’m not going to let Steven’s memory die, but I have to remove this stuff so I can move on with living.”

Felise was quiet. “I’m so sorry you’re having to go through this,” she softly said.

“Yeah, I don’t understand why God does things the way he does. But I guess I have to live with it.”

“We all do,” she mumbled.

I shook off my melancholy thoughts. I was in a good place now, and I wanted to stay there. “So, what’s on tap for you today?”

“I’m about to go to work. I’m going through some stuff over here myself,” she confessed.

“I’m so sorry. I haven’t even checked to see how things are going in your life.” I didn’t want to bring up her troubles with Greg. If she wanted to talk about it, she’d bring it up.

“You don’t worry about me,” Felise said. “I’m pulling myself together. Steven’s mom called me, though. She’s worried about you.”

“I need to call her. This obsessive quest for some answers I was on had everybody concerned.”

“Have you given that up?” Felise asked.

“Yep. It’s time to let it go.” I closed up one box and pulled another up on the bed. “I prayed for a sign and I got one, and now I’m trying to achieve some closure. My kids need me to pull it together. I’ve pawned them off on family for too long. It’s time for me to get back to the mothering business.”

“I am so happy to hear that,” Felise said.

“Oh, yeah, and my new business,” I added. Just the thought warmed my insides.
My
business.

“What business?” Felise asked, sounding surprised.

“Event planning. Party Wright Planning,” I said. “Get the play on words? Paula Wright. Party Right.”

She laughed. “I love it. In the midst of everything, you’re branching out into your own business—that’s so awesome. I’m so proud of you. I’ll call you later.”

I said good-bye, hung up, then resumed my packing. I stopped as I caught my reflection in the mirror. I was proud of me, too. I just wished that I’d discovered this when Steven was alive. It’s like his death had given me new life. Maybe if I had . . . I caught myself.
I can’t live in a world of maybes now
, I thought as I returned to packing up my husband’s
things.

47

Felise

I SAT ON THE SOFA
as my husband stood towering over me. I felt like a child being scolded, but I knew that I deserved any wrath that I might incur.

When he’d shown up this morning, I’d been hoping he would be bringing his belongings. He’d been gone a week since my confession, and Liz was starting to get suspicious. And each day he spent away made me less confident that he was coming back.

Greg took a deep breath. “I’ve thought long and hard about this. I don’t understand how you could betray me, and betray your best friend like that. And I know you want to say that it
just happened
, but you carried that deception past that hotel room that night.”

I wanted to speak out in my defense. Ask him, What was I supposed to do? How was I supposed to handle this? But I didn’t know what else to say, and I knew nothing I said would be good enough. So I kept my mouth closed and prayed that
my husband wasn’t about to tell me that he was leaving me—leaving our family.

He swallowed hard like he was trying to keep his composure.

“I have played every minute over and over in my head. My emotions have ranged from devastated to downright distraught. You had sex with your best friend’s husband on
our
anniversary. How do we heal from that? How do we move past that?”

I didn’t realize until then that tears were dripping down my cheeks. I looked up at him and said, “I don’t know, but we try. I’m willing to do whatever I have to do to get you to forgive me.”

“At first, I was blaming myself,” he continued, pacing the room, “saying that my neglect forced you into the arms of the man my child calls uncle. I kept asking myself, Where did I go wrong? How could I have kept her from cheating on me? And then over the last couple of days, the revelation came that you’re a grown woman. Yes, we might’ve had our problems, but if you were that unhappy, then you should’ve left me. You don’t seek solace in the arms of another man. You don’t go to the other side, hoping the grass is greener.
You water the lawn you have!” He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. I let him say what he needed to say.

“Over the years, you worked hard to assure me that you and Steven were strictly friends, that the vibes I had gotten in the beginning were all my imagination,” he continued. “You make me feel like our whole marriage was built on a lie.”

Now he was being extreme. No, I wasn’t completely honest about my relationship with Steven. That was simply because
I knew he wouldn’t be able to handle it and it would end up affecting our relationship with Paula. At the time, though, I did believe it. I actually believed I didn’t have feelings for Steven.

“How am I supposed to get over this?” he asked.

I couldn’t help it. I said, “The same way I did.”

He glared at me. “I knew that would come up. The two don’t even compare. What I did with Miranda was wrong, but you didn’t know her. I didn’t bring her around, pretending that she was my friend. I didn’t treat her like family.”