Chapter Twenty
The following night around supper time, my laptop chimed again.
I hurried to the desk in the living room and opened it to discover another email from Scott.
Hi again. I just wanted to check in about that light bulb that went out in my living room. I couldn’t help but wonder if you were able to find a replacement in my house somewhere, or if you had to buy one or use one of your own. We keep them in the cupboard over the sink in the laundry room, so if it happens again, that’s where they are.
Please reply. I feel like a cliché again. I’ve been playing solitaire every night. Help.
Scott
I chuckled and sat down at the desk.
Hi. I’m here. I’m going to type you a longer message which might take a few minutes, but I wanted you to know it’s coming. Sit tight. Play a couple more hands…
I pressed SEND, then I sat back and wondered what to write.
He was playing solitaire. I had played it, too, in the early days after Wes left, and I knew exactly how Scott felt. Even the name of the game was depressing. So I began to type…
Ah, Solitaire… My addiction and my savior for a while. I finally put a stop to it by going to the bookstore and browsing around one Sunday afternoon. I came home with an armful of books and I’ve been reading a lot since then. The good thing about reading a book is that you never feel guilty about the hours you spend on it, because when you finish, there’s a sense of accomplishment. I always feel like I’ve put another intellectual notch in my belt. I highly recommend it as an alternative to computer games.
Claire
I hit SEND.
Scott’s reply came in five minutes later.
Excellent advice. I used to be a huge reader, but I read less now because I’m always on my phone or laptop—which I do feel guilty about, because I end up reading news items or tweets, or watching cat videos, and there’s no sense of accomplishment in that! You’ve inspired me. I will go to the bookstore tomorrow and see what I can find in the English language. So what books have you been reading lately? Can you recommend anything good?
Scott
This was getting fun, because I loved talking about books, so I had no problem discharging the next message:
Dear Scott,
I’ve been reading all sorts of things—fiction and non-fiction. I started with some of the recent monster bestsellers, just to see what all the fuss was about. I read Gone Girl (very suspenseful and I recommend it if you haven’t seen the movie, because it’s better if you don’t know the ending). I found The Light Between Oceans a bit slow to get going, but the second half was terrific and I couldn’t put it down. I’d say the same thing about Room. I loved The Girl on the Train, but I had some friends who didn’t care for it because the main female character is so flawed. But it was a fascinating read if you can accept her with all of her issues, forgive her, and just go along for her crazy ride. Then I read the entire Harry Potter series because I am embarrassed to say I’d never read it before. Now I feel like a whole person.
For non-fiction, I read a few self-help books…Eckhart Tolle and Wayne Dyer. I needed that. I also read a new edition of Stephen Hawking’s book A Brief History of Time which appealed to my science and math background. It contained a lot of physics, but I feel smarter now and proud of myself for getting through it. And Malcolm Gladwell is great. Try Outliers and The Tipping Point. You’ll really like those.
Claire
* * *
Dear Claire,
Thanks for these. I’ve read Gladwell’s articles in The New Yorker and I’ve heard great things about his books. I will give them a try. I might skip The Girl on the Train, however, because I’m not feeling terribly forgiving right now about women with flaws. I think I’m going through an angry phase. Doing too much thinking lately about Angie and all her issues, which kind of defeats the purpose of leaving the country and coming to Munich. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but now I think I should have stayed and faced it all.
S.
I read Scott’s message and felt a bit stunned by his candor. Up until this point, he hadn’t revealed much emotion to me, except for the initial apology for taking off and asking me to watch his house. Otherwise, he’d seemed to be handling it all pretty well—unlike me, who smashed cell phones and cried buckets of tears for weeks.
Although…maybe he had smashed a few cell phones, too. In private.
Dear Scott,
I understand. I’m still pretty angry, too. What’s been the worst for me is not knowing any of the details of how this happened, and what started it, and when. It was such a shock when you told me they had run off together, and Wes was already gone so I couldn’t ask him any questions or demand to know the truth, or just shout at him. Then he refused to take my calls, which I’m assuming was for legal reasons, so that I would have as little ammunition as possible for the divorce. I just feel like I’m in the dark here, and sometimes I’m overcome with jealousy when I imagine them together. And jealousy and anger seem to go hand in hand. For my own sanity, like you, I try not to think about it, but it’s not easy when my imagination gets the better of me. Maybe if I knew the truth, I could stop inventing scenarios. What’s that saying? Curiosity killed the cat? Maybe I just need to let go of the desire to know all the gory details. Maybe that would be even more painful.
* * *
Dear Claire,
The truth would definitely be painful, but I can’t help but think it would be better to just grit our teeth and bear it, otherwise we’ll remain in this limbo. I wish now that I hadn’t taken this job. That I had gotten in the car and chased after Angie, and had it out with her. I would tell her how foolish she was being, to assume that the grass would be greener elsewhere. And I’d ask her what she was searching for that she couldn’t find in our own marriage when I was the most forgiving and understanding husband on the face of the earth—although I have my suspicions. I’m like you. The suddenness of it all makes it hard to process.
S.
I sat back for a moment and chewed on my thumbnail. Adrenaline flared through my veins, and anger reared its head again—but not at Scott. His emails were like a cold drink of water after days of stumbling through the hot desert. I was devouring every word he wrote, and I wanted more.
I sat forward and began typing…
Did Angie ever tell you anything about their affair? You said you’ve been thinking about Angie’s “issues” lately. May I ask what those issues are? Because one of the things I wish I knew was which one of them started it, and considering how she lied to me… Had Angie ever cheated on you before? Or lied to you?
I hit SEND, and waited. For a long moment, I sat there, staring at the computer screen, clicking the RECEIVE button repeatedly to check for a reply. Minutes passed by at a snail’s pace, and still, Scott did not answer, so I finally stood up and went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.
At last, my laptop chimed, and I rushed back to the desk with my mug.
Hi again Claire,
I don’t believe Angie ever cheated on me in the past, but after this, I’ll never really know. When we were first married, I used to travel a lot, which was a bone of contention between us, especially when she wanted to get pregnant and I was often away at the crucial time each month. It took us a long time to figure out that the problem wasn’t just my absence, but my sperm count. (I’m assuming she told you that we had fertility issues; she told me about yours). That’s what I meant when I said I had my suspicions. I can’t help but wonder if she was attracted to Wes because he could give her something I couldn’t.
S.
* * *
Dear Scott,
Please don’t blame yourself. She could have suggested a sperm donor instead of stealing another woman’s husband. Sorry, I’m still angry. But do you think she was the one who initiated it?
(To be honest, I’ve had similar thoughts… That Wes was attracted to Angie for the same reason—because she could give him something I couldn’t. We are two very different peas in a pod!)
* * *
Dear Claire,
Yes, indeed, we are. And I wish I knew who initiated it, but I don’t. It could just as easily have been Wes, considering the issues you guys were having. Sorry, Claire, I don’t mean to be hurtful, but I think we need to be honest with ourselves. They were probably both frustrated with us, and that’s what started the intimacies and private conversations. They felt a need to commiserate.
But that doesn’t excuse it. I’m just trying to put the puzzle pieces together. But truthfully…if I had to guess, I would bet it was Angie who started the conversations. She’s very good at getting people to open up to her, which is part of her appeal. The problem is that she uses that ability to get what she wants. She can be a brilliant manipulator. You’d think, after years of marriage, I would have been able to recognize it better. Sometimes I did, but not always, especially when I was on the receiving end of it.
S.
Reading those words made me feel sad for Scott, but at the same time, it was like a balm to my heart—to know that I was not alone in my anger toward Angie and her lack of integrity, and how she had manipulated me and charmed Wes.
It felt good to hear these criticisms of her, yet I didn’t want to be the kind of woman who enjoys fueling her own hatred and negativity. Deep down, I wanted to forgive both of them so that I could let go of all the toxic jealousy and bitterness inside of me. I had come a long way, but it was impossible to completely forgive without a deeper understanding of Angie’s so-called issues. And Wes’s as well.
I took a moment to gather my thoughts, then I began typing again.
* * *
You’re not being hurtful. I appreciate your honesty, and it’s not like I haven’t come to that conclusion myself—that Wes wanted a woman who could give him a child. It just pisses me off, because Wes and I had options. We were about to start IVF treatments, and I believe we could have been successful with that, if he hadn’t thrown in the towel so soon.
C.
* * *
He might not have thrown in the towel if Angie hadn’t been there to encourage him in that direction. I’m sorry, Claire. I’m sorry we moved in across the street from you. If we hadn’t, your marriage might still be intact.
S.
* * *
I sat back and felt a heavy pang in my heart for Scott and the guilt he should not be feeling.
Please, Scott. It’s not your fault. And I’m not sorry—because I’m glad I found out what kind of man Wes really was deep down. I just can’t believe I never knew the real him. I thought I was marrying a man with a stronger sense of commitment and deeper family values, but obviously, my love was blind.
C.
* * *
Dear Claire,
Don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re a trusting person who believes in people. If it makes you feel any better, my love was blind, too. Although, I think I always knew Angie was impulsive and selfish. But I married her anyway. There was just something about her that was irresistible. Not only was she drop dead gorgeous, she had a spark when we first met—like no other woman I’d ever known, but unfortunately for me, it didn’t last long after we were married. I suspect that’s what’s in store for Wes. It was that spark and excitement that he found attractive. But he’ll soon realize his mistake when Angie’s needy, unhappy personality emerges. It won’t be long before the excitement of their affair wears off, and then I suspect Angie will get bored with Wes—especially if there’s no money—and make his life miserable. I think he’ll look back on his marriage to you and regret ever having left you, Claire. Because you’re a sensible, good woman. He has no idea how lucky he was.
S.
Those last words made my eyes fill with tears, and I felt a flicker of happiness, to know that I was not completely undesirable. Someone thought I was worth something.
I wiped my cheek and slowly typed my reply.
Thank you, Scott. I appreciate that more than you can ever know.
C.
I hit SEND, and waited for his response. It took awhile, but I was more patient this time.
Dear Claire,
If it helps you to know, Angie was always jealous of you. She said you were the kindest person she’d ever met, and that it wasn’t fair that someone like you couldn’t be a mother, when someone like her could. She actually said those words to me just before Christmas. I think at that point, she was already planning to take Wes away from you, and some decent part of her was ashamed. Didn’t stop her from doing it, though.
As for her “issues” and why she is the way she is… She had a rough childhood. Both her parents were alcoholics and her father took off when she was in her teens. They’ve been estranged ever since. She hasn’t seen him or spoken to him in over a decade, and her mother passed away from breast cancer a number of years ago, so Angie’s been on her own. She has a brother, but he’s not someone she can rely on. He has addiction problems as well and he lives in Texas now.
I guess that’s why I’ve always been so forgiving with her—because I know she has a hard time believing that people can actually be dependable. I think that’s why she likes to latch on to new people. She likes to accumulate friends, in case others disappear.
S.
By now, I had tears streaming down my cheeks. This was so disheartening to hear, and I genuinely felt sorry for Angie. But it was also cathartic, to know the truth. I took a deep breath and typed my reply.
Dear Scott,
Thank you for all this. Talking to you about it has really helped. It has given me a great deal of clarity. I don’t feel quite so in the dark anymore.
C.
* * *
Dear Claire,
I feel better, too—getting all that off my chest and explaining Angie to you. Now I should probably get some sleep. It’s past midnight here and I have to be up at six for a meeting in Salzburg. I’m looking forward to the train ride. It should be beautiful.
S.
* * *
Salzburg! I envy you. I’ve always wanted to visit Austria. How long will you be there?
C.
* * *
A couple of days. I have to educate the local IT team on the new systems.
S.
I imagined him getting on the train in the morning, passing through old European towns and approaching the Alps. What an adventure. I responded with:
I did some research on that part of Europe when Wes and I were booking our honeymoon. Did you know there’s a Sound of Music tour in Salzburg? Just google it if you’re interested, and if you go, take some pictures. I’d love to hear all about it.
C.
* * *
Thanks Claire. I love The Sound of Music. It was a family tradition at my house—to watch it every Christmas when we were kids. Happy memories. I’ll definitely look that up.
Goodnight, Claire. I’ll email you again soon.
S.
I sent him a quick reply to say goodnight, and felt a great weight lift from my shoulders as I let out a breath and closed my laptop. Then I took Leo for a quick walk. It was a beautiful night.