If Only We'd Known

"Okay. Just don't do anything foolish. Don't do anything to Jess. Okay? I know how you are Mal, that damn temper of yours will get the best of you one day."

Smiling sadly, Malcolm clapped his friend's shoulder in a brotherly fashion and left the kitchen. Eric followed a moment later, but Malcolm had already exited the house and closed the front door behind him. As Eric set the locks, he wondered how badly the dissolution of Malcolm's marriage was going to affect his friend.

Early on, about the time Malcolm and he had opened their business, Eric had heard the occasional rumor concerning Jessica's wanderings. He hadn't paid the gossip any attention, until not so long ago, when he'd seen Jessica and a strange man, walking across the parking lot of an exclusive condominium, they stopped so the man could swipe the access card to unlock the main doors, they then entered the middle tower of three buildings. They'd had their arms encircling each others waists.

After twelve years of business association with Malcolm, and socializing with Jessica, Eric had no doubt as to what his eyes had seen and who his brain had recognized. It didn't take much imagination to conjure up the intentions of Jessica and her escort. It had greatly disturbed Eric, and more than once he'd made an attempt to tell Malcolm of what he'd seen. Each time he'd held back by what everyone in town knew would happen if Malcolm were to discover his wife cheating on him. A cheating wife and her lover dead, and one enraged husband sitting in jail.

It was one reason why he'd flashed with concern when he'd seen Malcolm at his door. It was why he promptly asked if Jessica was okay. He'd been dreading the worst.

Now, that the cat was out of the bag, it would be only a matter of time before Malcolm gave into his nature. Eric had never met Claire, he'd heard of her, but he didn't know her, so it struck him with some surprise, just how much he had come to hate the woman in so few minutes of time.

~N~

The ride home was a fog of painful conflicting thoughts, and as he pulled into his drive, Malcolm couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. The house was dark. The driveway had been empty, meaning Jess wasn't home and at this late hour, she probably wouldn't return home tonight.

'It was just as well', thought Malcolm, 'I don't think I'd be able to face her without wanting to kill her.'

It was with heavy footsteps, slouched shoulders and ragged breaths that Malcolm entered his house, and proceeded to prepare for sleep. He was bone weary tired. Despite the unwelcome, heart wrenching, soul searing, pain he felt, his body needed rest and didn't care about anything else, including how badly the heart ached.

His last thoughts, before sleep overtook him, were wild and emotionally charged. 'Is she with him? If she is- I hope I catch them together. I'll kill them. By God, I'll cut their hearts out, as they've done to me.'

The last conscious image was a view of himself holding two mutilated but still beating hearts, one pulsating blob of torn muscle in each of his bloody hands.

~N~

"What?! You told him? How could you? Damn you, Claire! All you've ever done is ruin my life!" Jessica hissed at her sister. They'd met for lunch at a box-store deli, situated in inside the town's only mall.

Claire, with more than a little perverse pleasure, had sprung the disclosure upon her sister without any warning. Until that point they'd enjoyed a pleasant enough conversation, but when Jess began extolling the virtues of her lover, Claire had had enough.

"Yes, dear sister, I told him. I told him everything. Everything. As for me ruining your life, well, welcome to my world! It's the same thing you and Malcolm did to me. I was seventeen years old! I was ripped away from the only home I'd known! And the very people who were supposed to love me and take care of me, didn't want anything to do with me. I lived in that awful girl's home for a month before I ran away. I had to learn how to live on the street. I was almost killed twice."

Jessica's eyebrows shot up with shock and concern. "I didn't know. What happened?"

"What happened? What happened?!" asked Claire, sarcastically, her anger rising. Then with a visible effort, she calmed down, letting out a short sigh. "Does it matter? It was a long time ago and I'd rather not remember. Okay?"

Jess nodded uncertainly, although her face was more composed.

"I'm alive. That's what counts. Right?"

Jessica nodded again, her anger muted for the moment by her sister's story.

"Listen, Jess, you brought this on yourself." Claire said quietly. "I don't know what it is with you and that creep, Ian, but it has to stop. I don't care all that much for Malcolm, but I'm told he's been a good husband to you, and a good daddy to your children. And, unless things have changed, you know how Malcolm can get when he feels he's been screwed over."

A look of utter surprise crossed Jessica's face, turning to fear and horror at the implications hinted at by her sister. With a sardonic smile, Claire, sadistically pleased with herself, said, "Yes, I know they aren't Malcolm's." Then turning the screws even more, added, "You're wondering how I know? Easy. Ian has a big mouth. The only reason that tidbit of news hadn't reached Malcolm's ears before, because those people who Ian bragged to, know about Malcolm's temper. They don't want to be the messenger that gets crucified for being the harbinger of bad news."

Jessica's mouth formed a "O" of disbelief. "No! Tell me you didn't tell him about the kids! Please, even you can't be that cruel!"

Leaning forward, drawing closer to her sister, Claire said in a harsh tone, "Cruel? Maybe. But, yes, I told Malcolm about the parentage of your kids."

"Oh, my God! Why did you do that? I thought we- you and I- we'd-" began Jessica before being cut off by a angry Claire.

"We? We what? You thought all was forgiven and forgotten? That we'd reached some level of understanding? Please! Not even you can be so naive. Can you, dear sister?" exclaimed Claire with utter disdain for her blood relative. Taking a closer look at Jessica's pale face, Claire, in turn received a surprise. Sitting back, she said, "Damn! You really did think the past was behind us, and that suddenly we were the loving sisters we could have, should have, been."

Silence engulfed the two women, for a few moments, as each sat contemplating their respective thoughts.

"Jess, I didn't come back to fuck up your life. I really didn't. It was until you started talking about Ian that I lost it. Ian this and Ian that. The same asshole you wanted that first time. The same asshole who thought it was just oh so funny to have me shipped off. It was just too much. I lost it. I was furious." Claire said, her voice rising.

Pausing, Claire reflected a bit, taking the time to calm herself, as Jessica maintained her aggrieved silence. "I still had a couple of friends here in town, despite it all. They kept me up to date on everything, including your own shameful trysts. So yeah, I knew all about who's the father of your kids. Ian is such a fucked up asshole, he couldn't keep his mouth shut about anything. Thankfully, the people he bragged to, were smarter or have better survival instincts, because surprisingly, after all these years, not a word ever reached Malcolm's ears. He was totally oblivious."

"Until you told him." interjected Jessica bitterly.

"Yeah. The poor man didn't really believe me, but he was still left speechless. Whether he believes me or not, a seed of doubt has been planted. I'm sure he'll know what to do with it." said Claire with a mirthless laugh.

"Do you really hate me that much? Hate the kids that much?" asked Jessica plaintively.

"Hate you?" asked Claire, surprised at the question. "Not anymore. I used to. And, I definitely don't hate your children. But, for years I carried a immense hatred of you. I used that hate to warm me when I was cold. To feed me when I was hungry. To keep me alive when I should have died. I used it to push past the worst parts of those years. It drove me, relentlessly. It motivated me to accomplish so many things. To do things I would have never dreamed of, and thus to succeed beyond my wildest dreams. But -I'm not sure when; a few years ago, I guess- I came to realize the hate had dissipated."

Jessica looked at her sister, and saw a frigidness in her hazel eyes that hadn't been there before. She shivered, the tremor traveled along her spine, down her legs and to her toes, the sensation left her feet slightly numb and tingling.

"With that said, I'm furious at you. If you had just left your gigolo out of our conversations, I wouldn't have ever said anything. Just the mention of his name sends me back to those horrible moments in the past, and it maddens me thinking about it."

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize- I'm sorry, I-" began Jessica hesitatingly, lamely, in apology.

"Save it for the priest, sister mine. There's nothing you can say that will undo what you've done to me and, yes, to Malcolm, too. He's a blind foolish man, but he's a man who mistakenly worshiped the very seat your stinking ass sat on. So, I feel sorry for him. He was taken in by your lies and deceit, just as our parents were. I hated them, too. As I did Malcolm. Now, I don't hate anyone. I have my life, and it's a better life than most."

Scooting her chair back, Claire stood abruptly, saying with a air of finality, "Lunch is on me."

Jessica, unable to look at her sister, stared at her food, now grown cold, nodded in acknowledgment.

Claire moved to stand behind Jessica then bent down near her sister's ear, and said softly, almost in a whisper, "I didn't cause the problems, I only brought them to light. Where it goes from here is up to you and Malcolm. I'm leaving tonight and I won't be returning. So, this is not au revoir but, adieu."

Jessica, overcome by a range of warring emotions, couldn't bring herself to face her sister or even voice a response to her departure. She was angry, very angry, at what Claire had done, but also, in a barely perceptible way, she understood that her own actions had precipitated the outcome.

As the minutes dragged by, she wept silently, while her rambling thoughts tried to line up, to form some sense of coherency. Until, unexpectedly, an instant knowing leaped out and Jessica become astutely aware of what she had to do.

~N~

"YOU WANT WHAT?!" bellowed Malcolm, at the person that was once the love of his life.

"I said, I want a divorce. I know it's not what you want, but-" started Jessica as she faced off with her husband.

Red faced and shaking with a magnificent anger, like a giant sequoia tree caught in the middle of a earthquake, Malcolm forced himself to a calmer emotional state as Jessica spoke.

"You don't know what I want. You haven't known what I've wanted in a long time, because I've come to realize you don't know me!" responded Malcolm, at a volume just below that of a roar, interrupting his wife. "By the same token, I don't know you anymore. I thought I did, but it looks like I was way off base."

"Please, Malcolm, if you love me, please-" begged Jessica, before being cut off again.

"Love you? You have got to be kidding me! After what you've done? It's a wonder I don't hate you more than I do. I've never loved, and could never love, a slut. That's what you are, Jessica. A goddamn fucking slut!"

"MALCOLM! How can you say that? I'm the mo-" cried out Jessica in shock, the pain evident in her voice.

"Listen, you slut! I'll decide what I want to do. Not you! Got it? If I want a divorce then I'll get one. If I want to stay married and make your life a living hell, well... I'll do that. If you try to fight whatever I decide, I'll bring down a ton of shit on you and your lover."

"But, Malcolm-" she started to say, then she noticed his eyes. They were filled with a raw unyielding hatred. There was anguish, too, along with a mix of other emotions, but the brightest of them was the hatred. It gleamed in his eyes, causing them to glisten with a flickering heat that caused her heart to feel an indistinct but choking discomfort.

She shifted her gaze to include his face and saw it was deeply lined, hard-bitten, with an unrelenting grimness, and she knew. Malcolm was not just mouthing words, he meant every syllable he uttered. A vague remembrance crossed her mind. Of another place in another time. The memory quickly gained a strange and swirling solidity.

She'd been with her sister, they'd been with two boys. Boys? Two young men. Yes, that fit better. She had been kissing him, and he'd been running his hands over her blue jean covered ass, when out of the brush burst a enraged Malcolm.

"What in the fuck!?! Goddamn you, you fucking bitch! And you! You sorry motherfucker! I don't know who you are, but I'm going to tear your goddamn fucking dick off and feed it to the fish!"

Then, as even now, those words seared her mind. She heard the great fury and the infinite depth of pain in his cry. She knew, before she turned in surprise to look at her husband, what she would see. He was charging at them.

Before Jessica could throw herself clear, he barreled into both of them. Something hard hit the side of her head. She was knocked to the ground, although she hadn't lost consciousness, she'd been severely stunned. She'd fallen facing the creek, but out of her peripheral vision she saw motion. She tried moving, but it was as if her body was paralyzed. All she could do was to stare at the quickly shuffling feet of her husband, as she heard grunt after grunt, punctuated by meaty impacts, and some yelling and shouting.

Then she saw Malcolm dragging a seemingly lifeless body into the creek where he dunked the inert body's head several times beneath the flowing water. Until he let go. It was Ian. Ian!

A low moan of sorrow escaped her lips as she saw Ian's body floating limply, moved about by the steady push of the gurgling flowing water. Malcolm walked slowly toward her, until his shoes stopped right before her eyes.

She felt herself being lifted and a see saw of motion passed across her vision, until he had firmly settled her into his arms.

"Oh, my God! Malcolm! You've killed him!" cried out a voice filled with disbelief and horror. It was Claire's voice. She heard various sounds; splashing, cursing, puffs of breath from a great effort. But, inexorably she was carried away from them and Ian. Then blessed darkness descended and she succumbed to its call.

For some reason Jessica had forgotten the particular details of that day. In the days after, in the time she spent recovering, she'd buried the memory deep, and although she sometimes felt a niggling tickle of its presence, it never came to fruition until this very moment, as she stared at Malcolm's set face.

Ian, who'd been saved in the nick of time, by Claire's and Ian's friend actions, had been taken to the same hospital as Jessica, but fear had kept them from trying to contact each other. Although the police investigated, Malcolm's name had never been mentioned. If it had been and the true facts of the incident had been revealed, Jessica and Ian would have been the ones run out of town by her family. So by sheer coincidence, both Jessica and Ian explained it was a swimming accident. Despite their stories not matching completely, the police believed them, It was because their stories, due to the difference in the details, were expected with such a traumatic experience.

After Jessica had been released from the hospital, a silent Malcolm had come to get her and then drove them to her parents home. Malcolm told her dad he was done with her. That she was her parents concern, once more.

Jessica had blatantly lied. She'd blamed her sister for the entire thing, and even hinted at being served drink upon drink until she'd become delirious by the alcohol, and pliant to the deliberations of Ian, aided and abetted by Claire.

It took some doing and a lot of pleading, with her parents acting as mediators, but Malcolm eventually agreed to take her back. It took even longer, years, before he forgave her and for their relationship to resume its former course.

It took even longer before Jessica began listening to Ian, hooking up with him, once again. Naturally, Ian, in spite of his fear of Malcolm, wanted to get back at him in anyway he could, for the drumming and near drowning Malcolm had giving him. What better way to get even than to fuck the man's wife, and better yet, get her pregnant. And not once, but twice. And all done without Malcolm's knowledge.

For Jessica, all this happened over a period of time, enough time to adjust to it and even become comfortable with it. Then Claire returned, entered the picture and upturned everything. Now, as she faced the man she once loved, the entirety of her deceptions and long held secrets came rushing to her all at once. The shame, the guilt, the regret, they all filled her, nearly overwhelming her, and she knew she couldn't continue to live with her husband, not and live with the deception, too.

Jessica looked away from Malcolm, unable to hold his piercing gaze any longer. He knew of some of her deceptions already, but something else in his eyes seemed to penetrate deep into her. She was frightened he would see everything else if she continued to meet his gaze.

"Okay, Malcolm. I'll await your decision. I'll leave it up to you, whatever you want to do. I'll go with whatever it is." mumbled a dispirited Jessica.

After an expectant moment, Malcolm responded, "What? I'm getting old and my hearing isn't as good anymore. What did you say?"

A flash of anger passed through Jessica. Malcolm was playing with her. His hearing was better than ever. But, she had no choice but to go along with it. She feared this was but the beginning of a long and dangerous game. If nothing else, change was coming, a change that Jessica had never truly foreseen, a change that she'd never expected, but was now hurtling toward her at a blinding speed.

"I'll go with whatever you decide. Okay?" said Jessica in a louder, but fraught, voice.

Nodding, Malcolm raised his arm and pointed at the door with his finger, saying rather calmly, "Get out. I'll let you-"

"What? I need some things, Malcolm! My clothes! My makeup! Please! I need my-" exclaimed a startled Jessica.

"I don't care. Leave. Now. I'll call you when I decide what I'm going to do." said Malcolm in a voice colder than a arctic blast. "Someone else can get your things later, and take them to you."

Jessica knew she wasn't going to get anywhere with Malcolm. She could force herself past him, but in the state he was in, he just might lose control and hurt her. Or worse.

'Well, thank Claire and your own stupidity for getting you into this mess. And, damn that Ian. His brand of stupidity was of a special kind; no common sense. Only, you went along with everything he said. Didn't you? So really, how stupid does that make you, in comparison?' thought Jessica to herself.

Reluctant, but resigned to the situation, Jessica sighed, and a slight tremble vibrated her body in agitated response at giving in to Malcolm's demand, but without any further words, she turned and walked out of the house she'd lived in for over twenty-four years. As she drove off, in her rear view mirror, she caught a glimpse of Malcolm's motionless figure, set like a large silhouetted statue, in front of one of the windows. For whatever reason, that image, reminded her of a old movie she and Malcolm had watched years ago, "The Exterminating Angel", where several dinner guests were trapped inside the house by a quirk of their own minds. Somewhat fearfully, Jessica wondered, who was the one trapped, she or Malcolm?

Malcolm watched her leave and the immense pain that constantly filled him now, stepped up a notch, and a almost physical ache hit him in the pit of his stomach, causing him to grunt in reflex.