Page 104 of Every Now and Then
He stole a decade from me, pretending to be in love with me. He asked me to marry him, to drop out of college, to uproot my life, and move halfway across the country, yet he never loved me. Not like a husband should love his wife. And I gave myself to him wholeheartedly, never once thinking him capable of that level of deceit.
He’d never been in love with me.
My entire marriage was a sham.
And Kylechoseto leave us permanently. Hechoseto leave our daughters without a father. And hechoseto leave me to clean up his mess by myself. By getting the truth off his chest, he lodged a knife into mine. With each word of that letter that I read, the knife twisted deeper.
Despite my own pain, I couldn’t ignore the agony and torment Kyle endured for years, trying to deny who he really was. I felt so sad for him. It’s staggering to think about how long he lied to himself, his family, his friends, his co-workers. And to me. Pretending came at a high cost to all of us. But he paid the ultimate price.
Right after Kyle died, I read the police reports, which noted there were no skid marks on the road. But after finding his letter, I revisited them. And I saw everything in a new light. The absence of skid marks didn’t point to a speeding driver who hydroplaned in a rainstorm, as the authorities believed, but to the fact that Kyle never tried to brake. He didn’t hit the utility pole by accident; he aimed for it.
By mailing me his confessional missive, Kyle left me with even more secrets to keep. I spent the next week obsessively sifting through my memories to pinpoint how I could have been so clueless. So ignorant and stupid. Finding out that he was gay explained a lot of the concerns I'd had during our marriage. The lack of attention and affection. Our sporadic sex life. Why Kyle stopped going to church. His long hours away from home.
Prior to opening the letter, I’d pondered how I missed most of the clues that Kyle was having an affair, but afterward… Afterward, I blamed myself for not noticing that my husband was gay and depressed to the point of becoming suicidal. That was a heavy weight to bear, and the guilt I felt took its toll on me.
I was overwrought, flooded with so many conflicting, vacillating emotions. Sadness, rage, disbelief, despondency, wrath. And guilt. So much guilt. Like the funnel of a tornado, my feelings twisted and turned, one after another, tighter and tighter until I spun out of control.
With slow precision, Hayes refolds the letter and places it back in the envelope before he turns in his seat to face me. “Annabelle, baby, what the fuck did I just read?” Hayes draws a hand down his face. “I don’t… I mean… Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
As much as I dreaded this conversation, the relief at finally having my secrets out in the open trumps most of my discomfort. Filled with newfound fortitude, I take a deep breath and tell Hayes everything.How I found the letter. How devastating it was. How stupid and guilty I felt for not realizing the truth on my own. And after spilling it all, I feel lighter.
However, I can’t shake one remaining fear: that the truth will change the way Hayes looks at me. I don't want him to think that I'm weak or broken. I was once, but with therapy and the passage of time, I've fought my way back.
"Just when I didn't think you could get any stronger," he murmurs, shaking his head. "Forged in the fire is right."
With a surge of relief, my eyes dart to his, and I see love and compassion reflected in them. I shouldn't have worried that Hayes would see me as less than or look at me with pity. But old habits die hard, I suppose.
“Holy shit, Annabelle,” Hayes laments as he pulls me into his arms in a crushing embrace. “I hate that you went through that alone. God, I’d give anything to have been there with you then and to have helped you through the thick of it.”
“You were, and you did,” I whisper.
Confusion mars his face as he pulls back to look me in the eye. “What?”
“After reading Kyle’s letter, it felt like I’d stepped in quicksand. The more I fought through my convoluted emotions, the harder they tugged me down. After spiraling for a week, Laura sat me down and told me I needed to get my head on straight so I could be there for the girls. She pushed me to take a night off. To stay in a hotel, to get some sleep, to relax.”
I see an understanding pass over him. Then, he murmurs, “The night we met at Tank’s.”
I nod. “Yes, the night we met.”
“Holy shit, Yankee. If I’d known, I wouldhave—”
“No, Hayes. Don’t say anything. I wouldn’t change a single thing about that night. It was perfect and exactly what I needed. That night was a turning point for me. For the first time in my life, I understood what true passion felt like. I understood what Kyle and I lacked. I understood what I wanted to find in a partner. Meeting you gave me hope, Hayes! Hope that one day I’d be healed enough to find a real, genuine romantic relationship. After our night at Tank’s, I began therapy. I found a job. I worked on myself and started healing.”
Hayes tightens his arms around me, and I soak up every bit of love and strength he offers.
"It's weird, but… meeting you helped me begin to forgive Kyle. What you and I have together, our chemistry and the depth of my feelings… I never had that with him. I imagine it must have been what he felt when he was with Grayson. I don't condone Kyle's actions, but I don't condemn him either. He was a good person, caught in an impossible situation he didn't know how to escape. Meeting you and starting therapy helped me let go of most of the anger.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I needed time to be sure of what I felt in my heart. That you’re the man for me, and that I can trust you.” My smile is faint. “I trusted Kyle, and he shattered that trust. It’s something I still struggle with—the doubt in my own judgment. But you, Hayes… you’ve broken down every wall I built around my heart. At every turn, you’ve dismantled my doubts and pacified my fears.” I lean in and kiss his lips. “I love you.”
“I love you too, baby. And I’m here for you always, Annabelle. Your problems will never be too difficult or too messy for me, baby. Remember what I told you weeks ago? I’m here for all the bits, but especially the messy bits.”
“Good,” I laugh. “Because I have a lot of those.”
Interjecting a moment of levity, he adds, "And the lady bits."
"Can't forget those."
That evening, I sit the girls down and explain that Hayes has given us the option of staying at his condo instead of renting a place temporarily. I spent ten years of my life with a man who never loved me, at least not in the romantic sense. And I don’t want to waste more time. However, I have to do right by my daughters, and moving into Hayes' condo will impact them. If they need me to take my relationship with Hayes more slowly, then I will.
