Page 74 of The Husband Diet
‘Did she ask you who I was?’
Julian laughed, his eyes twinkling. ‘She already knew.’
‘Oh.’
‘But you’re right. We’ll take it slow until you and the kids are ready to go full throttle.’
Which would give him time to understand his feelings before making such a monumental decision like leaving the USA. ‘Thank you,’ I whispered.
*
As I came in through my front door later that evening, I heard unfamiliar noises. The kids were having a sleepover at Paul’s, so who could it be? A burglar? There was no sign of forced entry that I could see. Gathering my guts, I inched my way down the hall and stopped at the foot of the stairs, making an effort to breathe quietly, something that my burglar wasn’t doing. I slipped into the kitchen and grabbed my cleaver from the top cabinet.
As stealthily as I could, I crept up the stairs, avoiding the seventh step that always creaked. It was coming from my bedroom. The thought of someone helping himself to the contents of my safe filled me with rage and I had to restrain myself to not fling the door open and kill the guy by simply jumping on him. But if this guy was armed, I’d be in trouble, so I peered round the corner and through the chink in the door. And my jaw dropped open.
Ira and a woman. They were emptying his drawers, shoving the carefully ironed and folded clothes into a small suitcase.
The woman turned her head to the side and our eyes locked. Pretty young face. A familiar face. She screamed.
Ira jumped back and turned to see me – weapon in hand. I’d forgotten all about it, as dazed as I was by the sight of my husband and his lover. The husband I’d tried so hard to sex up – the marriage I’d tried to save. The cleaver felt heavy in my hand, my hand felt heavy on the end of my arm, but I couldn’t let it drop to the floor. Could I use it? Was I finally going to realize my dreams of killing him? Only this time I’d be the betrayed wife who had flipped.
I gave the young woman a closer look. And then it dawned on me. ‘Maxine? Is that you?’
Ira’s young secretary ran past me like the bed had caught fire.
‘Erica, what the hell!’ Ira yelled as if I’d walked in on him using the toilet. ‘Put that down! What are you? Nuts?’
But all I could do was stare at him. Wow! Boss screws secretary. The same cliché repeats itself. Hadn’t I been knocked up by him when he was my boss? And then I started to laugh. Real ROFL, rolling on the floor, laughing. Maybe I was nuts. For having renounced my own dreams all this time. For having tried all these years to stay faithful to a man who didn’t deserve me. For a man who had no respect for me or my home. I leaned against the door and cackled, holding my sides until I couldn’t breathe anymore.
They dashed past me (I’d never seenhimmove that fast) and a few seconds later, the door slammed and their car took off like a shot. I went downstairs, grabbed the keys from the island, closed the door behind me and slid into my Kia van. I turned the ignition and drove away from my pain.
28
The Amazing Erica
I drove for hours, recklessly, aimlessly, risking a few scrapes here and there, almost willing myself to crash into something.Sue me, ruin me, destroy me, all of you. Get in line behind my husband. See if I care.
I drove out of Boston, through several other smaller towns I didn’t recognize for hours on end, until the gas tank marked empty and the car jumped and heaved its last sigh in the middle of absolutely nowhere. I was surrounded by pitch-blackness. I had no idea where I was. I hadn’t seen any gas stations for the last few miles, or at least I couldn’t remember. My mind was so fogged up it was a wonder I hadn’t run anyone over. Had there even been anyone on the streets? How long had I been driving?
As the night wrapped me in its cold grip, I began to shiver in my coat inside the car. I knew the kids were safe at Paul’s and that nothing bad would happen to them. Right now, I was worried about me, stranded out in the sticks.
Say I was found by some idiot with a weapon? Fear began to lick its way up my legs and into my stomach. I’d never been religious, but I found myself praying.
Please, God, keep me safe tonight until I can get back into my own warm bed.But the thought of my bed, Ira’s and my bed, made my eyes burn. For months I’d been trying to make it work: trying to save my marriage, save my family, keep things normal. And then I’d met Julian, possibly the best thing that had ever happened to me, and all I’d done was push him away. When would I finally get it once and for all?
Sprawled across the passenger seat, I forced myself to be calm and not worry about the children’s future and where our life was going. I had to rev up my one-year plan to less than six months. By the summer, I had to get the kids to Tuscany. It was already December.
I rummaged through my bag for a Kleenex, blew my nose and checked my cellphone. Ten missed calls and a message:
Is everything OK? I’m worried about you. Please call me. Julian.
I burst into tears. That amazing man wasworriedabout me, while my own husband hated me.
I woke with a jump, confused to find myself in my car parked in the middle of nowhere, under a pitch-black sky. And then the previous afternoon played itself out in front of my eyes and I began to bawl all over again. All these years, chasing a dream of happiness. Sacrificing myself for my family, my husband. And what did that leave me with now if not an empty bed and a broken heart? And even if I had met Julian, why did all this still hurt? Why, like a miracle cure, could I not just wipe the past out of my mind? Because pain always left scars, no matter what joys you experienced afterward.
I caught another glimpse of myself in the mirror. Jesus, did I lookrough. Ifeltrough. I felt dead. Actually, I really didn’t feel anything. I felt no pain, no anger. Just a big empty spot in my soul. But I’d always felt empty. That’s why I ate.
I called a taxi and gave the driver Julian’s address, silent tears gushing down my face. All I needed now was to be with him, to lie back and let him sink into my soul, to be loved. Because I deserved it. I deserved Julian and I also deserved a shot at Tuscany. I finally understood that now. And he’d either come with me or not.
