Redemption Ch. 02

As I sat waiting in the restaurant for my lunch date to arrive, I realized my knee was bouncing anxiously with every second of the clock. I glanced at my watch again. This is what I got for arriving too damn early.

I hadn't been this nervous in ... hell, I couldn't remember.

I'd made a decision — one that was too important to deliver over the phone, of course, so here I sat, waiting for her to arrive. I pulled out my phone and didn't see any missed calls. I took a deep breath and considered calling her — calling Annie. Hearing her voice might calm me. She'd been my rock the past month. She meant more to me now than I'd ever hoped she'd mean, but how would she feel about the decision I'd made? I hadn't discussed it with her yet, but I thought — hoped — she'd like it.

I fingered the small object in my coat pocket and felt my nerves attack again.

"Drew?"

I glanced up and saw that my date had arrived. Paige stood staring at me, half smiling as if she weren't sure what to expect. I stood up and smiled, actually relieved to see my ex-wife. What a feeling. I thought I hated the woman for what she'd done to me — to us. I hadn't laid eyes on Paige for close to two years now. She looked good. Healthy. Beautiful as always.

"You're early," I said, glancing at the clock on the wall behind her. She was almost twenty minutes early. I had been thirty. "Please. Have a seat."

She avoided my eyes. "Well, I was anxious to see you. Um, you're early too." She was watching me again, seemingly intent on reading my every expression.

I laughed. Actually laughed. "Yeah, I guess I am." I took a deep breath. "You look wonderful. How have you been?"

Making small talk was surprisingly easier than I had expected it to be. By the time our entrees arrived, I knew that Paige had given up her job at the television station and was now working as a freelance writer from home. That home was a small one-bedroom apartment across town, not far from Annie's, actually.

It wasn't until she said, "I was really surprised to hear from you. Karen says you never ask about me and that you prefer it if my name is never mentioned," that I became uncomfortable. I recognized the pain in her eyes as she spoke, but she met my eyes, unflinching. I sensed she felt she deserved the pain and was forcing herself to endure it for whatever odd reason.

Oh boy. I took a deep breath, stuck my hand in my pocket and felt the glide of metal against my fingertips. The small talk appeared to be over. It was time to announce my real purpose for this meeting.

Remember when I said I'd only ever had two gut-wrenching shocks during my lifetime? The first was, of course, finding out that my wife had been cheating on me for six months while I remained oblivious to the fact.

The second...

Well, the second had come only a couple of short months ago.

I was sitting in the doctor's office after battling a nasty case of the flu — a flu I couldn't seem to shake — when the grey-haired man who'd been treating me said, "Drew, I want to run some tests."

What fateful words, I remembered now. The tests had confirmed his fears. Cancer. Lung cancer, to be exact, and because I was at an advanced stage, my prognosis wasn't as positive as it could have been.

I remember feeling again as if I'd been punched in the gut, the shock was so great. I was only 43 years old. I'd never so much as smoked a cigarette in my life. How could I have cancer? I'd stumbled to my car, barely noticing a thing around me. Who would mourn me if I died? I had no family. Just a few friends. Gavin and his wife, Karen. And Annie. Paige's face briefly flashed into my mind, but I squashed all thoughts of her before they could pierce my heart again. For all I knew, she had remarried. Married her lover, Alan Mackerel, the man who'd stolen her heart and body away from me.

Oddly, the thought didn't disturb me the way it once had.

You see, the story you've been reading has never been about which woman I would choose to spend my life with -- sweet, beautiful Annie, or beautiful, flawed Paige. Hell, my life seemed to be over, so what did it matter? It's never been about whether I would turn out to be a wimp husband who forgave his whore of a wife, never knowing if she would cheat again. It's certainly not about the hot rebound sex I could have had with Annie if we'd both been willing. Don't you understand that those things are all trivial compared to my purpose for writing this story -- to purge my own soul, if you will, and to go back and look at my life with a fresh perspective. To gain redemption for myself, whatever that meant, for the remainder of years I had left in this world.

I'd shared the news of my cancer with Annie that evening when she brought me a meal as she'd been doing regularly since I'd fallen sick. I half expected her to politely excuse herself, to withdraw from me, but she hadn't.

Did I ever mention the main reason Annie and I had never had sex? Annie had been raped by a complete stranger a few years before, and while she might have been interested in me, she'd made it clear from our first date that she wasn't ready for that type of intimacy yet. Like me, she was still healing from past emotions. She'd said she had a feeling I would be understanding about it -- unlike the few sexually-motivated chumps she'd attempted to date since her rape. She'd been right.

"I'm here for you," Annie had said simply after hearing my news, clasping my hand. And she had been. From my first chemotherapy treatment up until last night, when I'd realized I was starting to loose my hair, Annie had been there. My emotional rock. I was pretty sure I loved the woman for that.

"Drew?" Paige murmured now, looking at me, confused.

Oh, right. I lifted my glass of water and swallowed to prolong the words I had to say. Paige sighed and said with a forced little smile, "Um, I hear you're finally dating someone. Is that what this is about?"

"You heard that?"

"Well, I asked Karen," she admitted. She glanced down at her hands. "I saw you coming out of the movie theater last month with a woman I didn't recognize. She was beautiful. You looked good together. You looked...happy."

She said the last almost as if she were asking for verification, so I nodded and forced a smile of my own. The irony of her statement wasn't lost on me. I'd found out about her lover by seeing them together from afar. How had it felt for her, seeing me with another woman? I was glad it had happened that way though, not that it mattered anymore. Neither of us had a claim on the other. I nodded. "Yes, her name is Annie. She's pretty terrific. Far too good for me, but she sticks around for some reason."

"No one is too good for you," Paige said, then quickly looked away as if she instantly regretted voicing that opinion.

I cleared my throat. This was suddenly very...awkward. "So, are you and Alan still together?"

Her face turned pale. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she shook her head, her long, auburn hair brushing her shoulders as she met my eyes again. "I haven't seen him since before the divorce. Didn't you know?"

I shrugged. I'd had no idea. "Is there anyone else?"

"No," she said simply, firmly.

If I died, I didn't want Paige to be alone, I realized. I actually wanted her to be happy.

"One of the reasons I asked you here today is because I wanted to give you something." I reached for the brown envelope sticking out of my briefcase. "I was going through some paperwork and I realized you were still the beneficiary on my life insurance policy."

Something died in her eyes, I thought. "Oh," she whispered. "Do you want me to sign something releasing myself from it?" Her voice had weakened with disappointment. I recognized the tone from our many years together. What could she possibly be disappointed about, I wondered. She stood to inherit close to a million dollars when I died.

I shook my head. "No, I want to make sure you still have a copy of the policy."

"Wha..what?"

I handed her the envelope and then reached for the key that had been burning a hole in my pocket all morning. "You know I don't have any family. You gave me 18 mostly happy years. You deserve something for that."

She looked dumbfounded. "But I don't understand." She barely glanced at the envelope she now held. "Don't you want to—" She stopped herself. "I mean, you could always remarry or have children, Drew. Surely you don't mean for me to remain your beneficiary."

Under normal circumstances, I probably wouldn't have, but the chances of me remarrying were pretty slim at this point. The doctors hadn't point-blank told me I was dying, but I doubted I had a snowball's chance in hell of living past two, maybe three years. Even if I was certain Annie wanted to marry me, I would never allow myself to make her a widow so quickly.

I held out my hand and said, "Actually, I'd like for you to have this, too."

She took the small key from my hand. "What is this?"

"It's an extra key to my safety deposit box." When I died, I wanted her to feel comfortable taking back some of the items I'd removed from our shared home. There were pictures she might like to keep. Other small keepsakes I hadn't been able to throw away or sell that had no value other than sentiment. I'd gathered them all and put them in a neutral place, the bank. I'd also kept my wedding ring in there. "I'd like for you to hang onto it, just in case. Gavin knows the full details. I just wanted you to have the key."

She frowned. "Drew, I really don't understand this. Is there something you're not telling me?"

I almost laughed. I felt like crying, too, which was a strange mix for me. I'd never been the emotional type. I'd planned to tell Paige about my diagnosis, but sitting across from her, looking into her soulful eyes, I found that I just couldn't.

I couldn't tell her, and I wasn't even sure why I couldn't.

"I, um, started going to church," I confided, truthfully, hoping to distract her from the topic. After my diagnosis, Annie had suggested I attend with her one Sunday to see if it helped lift my spirits. I suppose being faced with one's own mortality made a person do strange things. I agreed to go, and the experience had actually been life-changing. Her church wasn't bad at all. It was contemporary, casual dress, and her preacher had a sense of humor he used to engage the congregation's attention. The pastor's sermon that first day had also been about marriage and the reasons so many marriages failed. As I listened to the man speak, I'd realized I had to accept some of the blame for letting my marriage end. There was no excusing what Paige had done, but perhaps my failure to be what my wife needed had led her to fall to temptation. My refusal to attend counseling or give Paige a second chance after her affair had also weighed heavily on my heart that night, but what was done, was done. There was no going back.

Paige blinked and looked like she wanted to speak, but I continued, "The sermon last week was about the importance of forgiveness. I'm trying to be more open-minded these days. Like I said, you were a large part of my life for a long time. No matter what mistakes we've both made, I could never forget that."

My ex-wife's eyes filled with tears, which she quickly tried to wipe away. "Thank you for that. It's more than I deserve, I know." She sniffed then forced a smile. "It sounds like she's been good for you in more ways than one."

Annie? I couldn't disagree.

"There was something else I wanted to ask you about," I said, changing the subject abruptly.

"Oh?" Her body instantly tensed. Why? What was she expecting?

"I was talking to Gavin, and he told me that you've been in therapy," I said, choosing my words carefully. "Well, I just started therapy myself, and one thing my therapist has me do is write my thoughts and feelings down in a journal."

Her body relaxed. Paige nodded. "Yes, me too. It's actually pretty helpful."

"I also remembered that you kept a journal most of our marriage, off and on." She nodded, looking confused. How could I tell her why I wanted her journals without revealing I was probably dying? I cleared my throat. "I know I probably have no right to ask, but I was wondering if you would humor me with something. I was wondering if you would let me read your journals -- from just before you started your affair until now. I think it would be really helpful for me to understand why you did it, help me realize if I was to blame, and help me move past the anger and hurt I still have inside me over it."

If possible, her face turned even more pale. "Are you sure you want to--?"

"I'm certain, and I think I would prefer to read about it rather than ask you just to tell me." I wasn't sure I'd believe her voiced words as much as I would those she'd written down during the affair.

"Why?" she asked, and her voice was hoarse and full of emotion. "Why now? I don't want to dredge up old hurts again, Drew. I've been working past this. So have you."

"I know. Like I said, it's just a request, something I thought would be helpful to me in my own therapy." I know. I was a mean, deceitful bastard for manipulating her this way.

Her chest moved as she took a deep breath and gathered her emotions. Finally, she asked quietly, "Would I be able to read your journal too?"

My own journal? That was too private. Too personal. I had to fight the urge to shake my head and turn defensive. I reminded myself that maybe it was only fair in the circumstances. And maybe, if Paige still loved me at all and grieved for me when I died, having my journal would be a comfort of sorts to her.

I unclenched my jaw and nodded, reluctantly.

She looked surprised. "You can read my journals, all of them. You don't have to give me yours. It's unfair of me to ask." Paige looked me in the eye and said, "Do you love her?"

"Yes." It wasn't the same love I had felt for Paige once upon a time, but I did love Annie.

Her eyes teared up. "Paige." I tried to comfort her."You're a beautiful woman. You have a good heart, I know that. I know there's someone out there for you, Paige. Someone who can make you happy. Someday you'll find him." It was a cliched speech, I know, but I wasn't feeling well enough to be more original at the moment.

Paige laughed in disdain through her tears, which she hadn't yet been able to stop. "I already did. Then I lost him because I was a selfish idiot."

I assumed she was referring to me. "Paige, don't," I warned.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, excuse me, please." She grabbed her purse and dashed away before I knew what her intent was. She hurried out of the restaurant as if the devil himself were on her heels. I started to follow, but truth was, I didn't feel well. I certainly didn't feel like giving foot chase to my ex-wife, even if she had left the envelope with my insurance policy on the table between us.

By the time I made it back to my office late that afternoon, Paige had already been by and left a package for me. There were three large, hand-written journals along with a note attached that read, "I'm sorry for running out during lunch. I hope these put your mind at ease. I'm sorry if any of it does the opposite. Please forgive me. Love always, Paige."

That night I told Annie what I'd done. She didn't seem disturbed by my decision at all. In fact, she seemed happy.

"I'm glad you're trying to make peace with her," she said, smiling. "I know what she did hurt you a lot and it couldn't have been easy, but you did the right thing."

Lovely Annie. My feelings for her were just as confusing as ever. Before I'd seen Paige and been reminded of so many memories, both good and bad, I'd had myself convinced I'd finally fallen hard for the tall brunette standing beside me. But I had to admit now that what I felt for Annie paled in comparison to what I had always felt for my wife. The truth was, Annie had become my best friend. Moreso than Gavin. Probably moreso than Paige had ever been. But there was just no mingling of passion or romantic love to be found in my heart. I think she knew it, too.

Annie, my best friend, began sleeping on my couch those nights when I had chemotherapy treatments. They were rough, but not as bad as I had always feared. Still, they were rough enough that I was pretty useless to everyone including myself. It pissed me off that I couldn't decline her help when she offered.

I waited until Annie was asleep to pull out Paige's first journal. She'd included several from early in our marriage, too, and I read those, fearful I would find news confirming that she'd been cheating the whole time we'd been together. I was somewhat surprised and moved to read how much she claimed to love me, how much she loved being married and having me for a husband. It saddened me to read of her disappointments all those times she'd gotten negative results on pregnancy tests. She claimed to have spent many many afternoons crying, wiping away the tears and putting on a happy façade before I came home from work to spare my feelings.

My eyes had devoured Paige's viewpoint on at least eight years of our marriage -- all of which she'd been faithful, as best I could tell -- by the time my eyelids drooped, demanding sleep. I decided to take a personal day or two to read the rest. I felt like a man possessed. I resented that I had to sleep because I wanted to read more.

The next morning I settled into my favorite chair with a cup of coffee and my ex-wife's journals. I could find no evidence that Paige had cheated on me with anyone prior to those six months before I'd discovered her affair. Some of her entries were very long. My wife had always been a little wordy when she wrote, but some were also very short. I'm noting the most interesting entries below, in Paige's own words, which seem to reveal how it began:

**

Drew and I had a fight again today. I'm not sure why I've been so impatient with him lately. I've come to the reality we will never have children. He doesn't seem the least bit interested in adopting when I mention it. Why? Why? Why? I wish I understood him better. Alan and I had lunch again, and I questioned him about his feelings on adoption. If he were married and couldn't have kids, would he consider adoption? He'd said he would, so why won't Drew? It's not like we can't afford it, and neither of us is getting any younger. Maybe I should ask Alan more directly for advice? He's been such a great listener lately. I'm glad we've been working on more commercials together. He's a good friend....

I'm feeling a little guilty at the moment. Alan accompanied me on another shoot today. It was hot outside. Miserable heat. At some point, Alan stripped out of his shirt to cool off, and wow, does that man have a nice chest! I found myself thinking all sorts of naughty things, things Drew definitely would not approve of. I'll make it up to him, though. I'm making Drew's favorite dinner and plan to seduce him for the dessert. Wow, it's been two weeks since my dh and I have even kissed. Must fix that soon....

I don't know what to do. Alan kissed me today. ANOTHER MAN KISSED ME! Worse, I allowed it. Why the hell am I writing this down where my husband could see? I have no idea. Maybe I want him to see it. I shouldn't have enjoyed kissing Alan as much as I did. I pushed him away, but I didn't want to. He's an incredible kisser. I'm not even sure how it happened. We were talking, joking around, and next thing I know he had his arms around me. His lips were so soft and hot against mine. I was so shocked, I just opened my mouth for him when I felt his tongue brush against my teeth. I kissed him back. He almost had my bra undone before I realized it and pushed him away. I don't know what to do. If I tell Drew, he'll lose his temper and demand that I quit my job. I love working at the station. I will tell Alan tomorrow that it's best if we don't work together again....