Lament Ch. 02

The next morning I awoke still tired. The sun was casting bright beams of light into the room through the gaps in the curtains. I reached for James as I usually do, but he wasn't there, and then the memories came flooding back. He would never be there again. This time though, I held in the tears, even though they wanted release.

"Are you ok?"

It was Cheryl's voice. It sounded so tired, bitterly so. Raising my head I saw that she was sitting in the small chair I had in the corner of the room. She had a cushion under her head, crooked to the side slightly, and a blanket pulled up around her.

I shook my head and whispered to her, "No. Are you?"

Cheryl smiled wanly and then nodded gingerly as she stood and stretched in one. She still wore her work clothes from the day before, but now they were dishevelled and crushed. She had great bags under her eyes and it seemed that she favoured her neck, as though she had put a kink in it from her ungainly sleeping arrangements.

"Mattias left late last night, but should be here soon, he'll grab something for breakfast, though knowing him it will be Maccas." She poked her tongue out and pretended to stick her finger down her throat as though she was going to be sick. Then she laughed. "I think he'd eat that junk every day if I let him."

After a shower, I found some spare clothes for her, not that our builds were similar, she was taller than me, and heavier set. However a tee and some track pants did the trick.

"Thanks Cheryl," I managed, giving her a hug and a light kiss on the cheek, "for everything."

She patted me warmly on the back before opening up the curtains to let the sunshine in with force and abandon. "We're going to fix this Nikki. You know that, right?"

I tried a smile, but I'm sure it was more of a dejected grimace.

Whilst we waited for Mattias to arrive, I went looking for the letter that James had sent me, along with his wedding ring and Olive's paternity tests. I had never finished reading it, nor had Cheryl to me when everything went to hell the day before. So far, the only one who had read it was Mattias, and he did not seem too happy about the contents, or me for that matter.

I made a cup of tea, as it always helps settle my nerves, and then sat in my favourite chair in the lounge as I began the painful process of reading about my marriage's destruction. I could do this, I would do this. A few deep breaths followed by some hot tea and then I began.

Nikki,

I am leaving, something I thought I'd never say, write or consider, but here it is. In fact, leaving is not the correct phrase, I have already left. I'm gone and I am not coming back. You broke my heart.

You stole from me what is most precious and ground it into nothing. I can't be bothered divorcing you, but I will no longer be your husband except in name only. I want nothing to do with you ever again, and to divorce you would require some future correspondence, even if only through solicitors.

I loved you Nikki, with all my heart. With everything I had. You were my world until Olive was born. Then you had to share it with her, but I know you didn't mind. We were great together, or so I thought. My wonderful wife and my little angel. But then, Olive started getting older and growing up. She became less the little girl and more a young woman. And I noticed things, things that still tear me inside. Olive looked nothing like me, nothing like my family. Everything seemed wrong.

I have included in this letter the four, yes four, paternity tests I have had done. They were all sent to different labs in different parts of the country, to ensure different testing processes. All of them returned the same irrefutable proof. Olive is not my child.

I have already spoken to Olive, and I have explained the reasons for my leaving. She took it poorly as can be expected, and I do not find any pleasure in that. Indeed, it was her alone that kept me here for the two years after I found out how truly evil you were. But she was innocent, even if she was the outcome of my shame and your betrayal.

I have quit my job, I have taken everything that I hold dear and have closed down some investments and separated some of the cash. You will find a record of the changes enclosed. I am not taking much, that way you have little recourse to try to come after me.

My family knows I am leaving, but not the reason why. I just don't care. I'm not sure how many men you fucked over the years, how many times you did it, but given that you managed to get a daughter out of it, I'd guess it's quite a few. And I guess since I was a loving and trusting spouse, it helped you get away with more and more. I assume some of your friends knew about your cheating and covered for you, maybe some of mine did as well. Maybe you were fucking some of mine or yours or who knows. It doesn't matter, we're done.

I was going to burn you down. I was going to destroy you, and I planned for a long time how to do it. But in the end, what does revenge achieve? I'm not going to gaol because of you, and I'm not going to spend any more time thinking about you. Revenge would see you become the centre of my world, and right now, I don't even want you in the same universe. So take that as you will.

I'd say have a good life, but no, don't!

James

I looked up, I was crying again. Mattias must have arrived quietly, because he and Cheryl were watching from the kitchen, eating what looked like hotcakes and hash browns. Cheryl was right, he'd gone to Maccas. I wondered what James was having for breakfast, he was a great cook, and could make the best breakfasts. He used to love surprising me with something fancy. But no more.

Cheryl went to bring me something, but I waved her away before I folded the letter and placed it on the coffee table.

"He thinks I was a round heeled slut." I said matter of factly.

"Were you?" asked Mattias, stuffing half a hashbrown into his maw.

Both Cheryl and I stared at him, but he looked from me to Cheryl and then held her gaze before she wilted under his.

"No, I wasn't."

It was the truth. I loved him. I still loved him. I needed him back.

Time passed as though everything was in slow motion, nobody spoke and the only sound was the ticking of the large, antique grandfather clock that James had loved so much, that and Mattias' relentless chewing. I noticed Cheryl looking at the letter and I nodded. She picked it up and moved to a quiet spot to finish reading it herself, tears in her eyes.

Sometime just before lunch, I was aimlessly moving about the house, wistfully looking at things to remind me of James, mourning for my loss when I heard a voice, Mattias' voice. It was low, muted, as though he were trying to be discreet. It had floated through an open window in the spare room. At first, I didn't quite catch what he was saying and then I heard it. "James." He was speaking to my husband.

I crept to the window and peered out. Below, in the small garden off to the side of the house was a love seat. It was out of the way, and often where James and I would go to sit and talk privately. I had no idea that the sound carried so clearly up through this window, but now, I was grateful that it did.

"You don't know that for a fact." Mattias' voice sounded strained, like even he wasn't fully believing his own words. There was a long delay, as he was clearly listening to some response. "No, you don't. Look it might be the truth, but it's just supposition. You're basing.... James, James, I know you're hurting. But you're basing all these arguments, everything you believe on what could possibly be a single, isolated incident."

Just then, I heard movement behind me, Cheryl. I motioned for her to be quiet with a finger to my lips, then beckoned her over to the window, pointing down.

"I've spoken to her, yes. Look, Olive called Nikki last night. She's not coming back here. At least, not yet. It sounded like she was pretty upset. I didn't hear Olive's side of the conversation, but I heard Nikki's."

Cheryl cocked her left eyebrow, and mouthed "James?"

I nodded.

"Any chance you can change your mind?"

Cheryl motioned a confused kind of shrug to me, and whispered "How?"

I shook my head and held up my hands showing my own confusion.

"Speaking of Olive, mate, she's only eighteen, she's innocent in this. Don't punish her for the sins of her mother."

Mattias was fighting for my daughter it seemed, and any fight was worth it. Even if I lost, even if James abandoned me, how could he abandon his daughter. He raised her. He was there from her first breath. He had loved her with all his heart, how could he desert her like that? She had never done anything to deserve it. She had never stopped loving him, never stopped wanting him with her, to protect her. How could he throw that away? Why would he throw that away because of me?

"Yeah, I know."

There was another long pause from Mattias, and it was clear that he was on the receiving end of a long barrage from James. I could see him stand and begin to pace back and forth, his left hand rubbing at his forehead as his right held his phone to his ear, muttering affirmations in response to numerous questions or statements from my husband.

"I get it mate, I do. I would have done the same. You know I nearly divorced Cheryl when I caught her with that fucking teenager's dick in her mouth."

Wait, what? I looked at my friend's face. She had turned a shade of scarlet and had a mortified look etched upon her features. "You cheated on Mattias?" I whispered, incredulous at the revelation, one that it seems James was aware of. Cheryl, to whatever credit was left her, didn't try to refute the claim, she meekly nodded in silent response.

"Look, Nikki swears that she didn't run around on you, and I actually believe her. She said the only possible option is a guy called Brandon or something.

"Yeah, Brendan, that's it. She said it was a drunken mistake, that he thought Nikki was his girlfriend and that she thought he was you. Apparently it was only a few pumps and then they realised their error and that was that. Nikki reckons that he didn't even cum in her. It must have been precum.

"Yeah, it's possible to get pregnant from precum, ask any doctor you want if you don't believe me."

"I need to go out there, and talk to him." I whispered to Cheryl, as I moved for the door that would lead me to the stairs and then the little used patio doors.

But Cheryl held me firm. "Stop, don't be stupid," she hissed, her voice sibilant yet energetic, frantic even. "Let Mattias speak to him, you'll drive him off!"

I fought the grip, I needed to speak to James. If I could just talk to him, I knew I could make this all better. I could reaffirm my love for him, and prove that I hadn't been unfaithful, not by conscious decision anyway. But Cheryl was having none of that, and held me firmly.

"I mean, can't you at least talk to her? You've held this to your chest for so long, you've let it fester and it's eaten you alive."

I squeezed my eyes shut and prayed. I wasn't religious, I'd never been. James and I didn't even get married in a church or by a priest. We had a celebrant and hired a gazebo in a public park instead. But if any God out there could listen, could hear me, could answer my pleas, I'd sell my soul to them that very instant.

Mattias sighed heavily. And it wasn't a good sigh. There was dejection, defeat and disappointment in it. He sat, no, he slumped back into the love seat.

"Yeah, you're a cold fucking cunt aren't you!" His voice had a note of anger in it. Desperate, unbridled anger.

"Fine, so, where are you headed then?

"I.... I.... James, let me....

"James. I'm on your side. I am." Mattias was pleading.

"Mate." The desperation in his voice was rapidly increasing, as was his volume. "Don't you dare. You're still my friend. I don't want to lose you even if you stay split from.... James? James? Fuck!"

There was a pause. A long, drawn out pause. The quiet hung over the house like a pall draped over a coffin. It was terrifying, it was soul crushing. It offered a sense of tragedy and unmitigated loss.

Finally, it was broken by a sob. An agonising sob, distressing and gut-wrenching in its fury. It was Mattias, wretched in his failed attempt, broken and wracked with pain.

"FUCK!" he screamed, and then with a burst of energy and despair, he hurled his phone at the ground where it shattered with a pop.

I dropped to the floor. I was out of breath, out of tears and out of luck. I don't know how much of the call I had missed, or what had been spoken from before, or indeed any of what James had said, but the end result couldn't be missed. Mattias had failed. Failed miserably, spectacularly, such that he himself was left distraught and anguished.

"I'll find out what happened." Cheryl gripped my arm in comfort. "I'll go talk to him. Are you going to be ok?"

"No. I'm not going to be ok."

She frowned at me. "Nikki...."

"Just go, talk to your husband." I pushed her towards the door, but she hesitated a moment. "Just go."

Cheryl bustled out of the room quickly, heading for the downstairs patio and her husband in the side garden.

"Honey," I heard her call out softly, lovingly. "Honey, was that James?"

"Yeah, I caught him on Discord. But he said he was going to deactivate the account once I got off the call with him. It seems he had forgotten about it and had left himself signed in. I was lucky he even took my call, but it's the last one I'll have with him." He had regained his composure, his voice had lost the pain that it had held when James had left their conversation, but to me, it seemed to be a facade to mask his pain. "Now I need a new fucking phone. Just great." He laughed, but it was terse.

"What happened honey? What did he say?" Cheryl's voice was soothing, and I could imagine her holding Mattias in her arms. I knew she loved him deeply, even if he irked her at times with some of his boorish behaviour. But then, he had caught Cheryl giving some teenager a blowjob, and she admitted to cheating on him. What the fuck? What was happening to the world and the people in it? Were we all sluts and bastards? Was this our lot, our life?

"He wasn't interested. He doesn't believe that Nikki wasn't fucking around." He exhaled a deep, long breath. Less of a sigh and more of a resignation. "I told him what Nikki said about that Brendan guy, but he doesn't believe it. Oh, he believed that they got it on, but reckons that Brendan had always been after her, and she flirted back too much to make it an accident. And he thinks it happened more than once."

That wasn't true. It was just the once, and that was the only time any man had ever been with me, other than James, in all the time I had known him.

"He won't even talk to her. But the worst thing, he won't talk to Olive. I begged him to speak to her. It's not her fault. Even if Nikki was the town bike, it doesn't make a difference. Olive didn't do anything wrong. This could scar her for a long time. I mean, at least he had the decency to wait until she finished school, but now she's got to sort out her future. Go to university, find a job, travel, fall in love, whatever. She needs her father there to help and to guide her.

"And he's run. The fucking coward has done a runner."

I heard what sounded like kissing. Frenzied, fervent kissing. "You tried my big guy, you tried. I'm proud of you. Even though you didn't succeed, you tried. You're my hero."

Mattias' voice rose up again, "James is concerned he'll never have a child of his own now. Olive represents his greatest failure. The ship has sailed, he said. He's in his forties, and even though he could father a child, it is going to take time, years, to find someone to do it with. And then, he'll be too old to really be there for them. The one thing that he wanted all his life, he said, was a child to call his own. And now, the child that he did have, isn't even his."

Slowly I rose back up from the floor, holding onto the wall and window sill for composure as I did. My legs were weak and my body shook. I moved on unsteady limbs towards the door, my gait leading me to the stairs. I couldn't focus. I couldn't control myself. I felt giddy, my steps erratic. Gripping the hand rail, I took a tentative step forwards, but somehow I messed it all up. Legs and arms and body all ended up in a mess, hurtling downwards at great velocity.

"Maybe this is best," I thought to myself with mild amusement, "I die from falling down some stairs, and then I don't have to deal with this nightmare any longer."

I was vaguely aware of a crashing sound somewhere in the distance. It was a strange sound, followed by a roaring like a rushing gale, that tore through one ear and out the other. I didn't realise that the weather was going to turn bad so suddenly. There hadn't even been a gale warning on the news.

And then I realised the sound was me, now lying at the base of the stairs upon the cold, unforgiving, hardwood floor. I saw Cheryl racing forward, screaming, but she was running on the ceiling. Behind her came Mattias, also upside down.

It was getting dark. And then it was.

A beeping sound brought me out from the darkness, which was soon followed by a friendly voice. I was lying down, but I felt funny. It was like I was in a fog, and I was made of marshmallow. A stranger, a woman, looked down at me. I could tell she was saying something, but it sounded like the adults talking in a peanuts cartoon. She raised a light to my eyes and said something else, but still I couldn't understand. Was she speaking another language? I'm not sure.

I blinked from the light, and then stared back at her blankly.

My head rolled to the side, and I saw Cheryl sitting, looking down at me and holding my hand. She smiled. It wasn't a very good smile. She reminded me of when I was young, getting school photos, but I had braces and didn't want anyone else to see them, so the smile was wry, in a sad, pathetic way.

Then the darkness came again.

"Mum? Mum? Can you hear me?"

Olive's voice was troubled. My poor baby was fearful, apprehensive. I tried to reach out to her, but I couldn't see her. I groped in the darkness. But there was pain, uncomfortable pain down my left side that threatened to rob me of movement, no, it had robbed me of movement.

"Mum? Grandma and Grandpa are here with me. Can you hear me Mum? Can you raise a finger if you can hear me?"

Of course I could hear her, what a silly question to ask. But I still couldn't see her. So I raised a finger on my right hand and wiggled it.

I felt that finger suddenly grabbed and squeezed hard by a soft hand. "Oh mum, I love you. I'm not sure if you remember, you had a fall at home, down the stairs. You're in the hospital. You've been here for two days already. But you're going to make a full recovery."

I nodded, weak and sore, and she returned it with another squeeze of my finger.

I was in the hospital for a couple of days on observation. I had suffered a severe concussion, a broken nose, a broken collar bone, hyper-extended left elbow, some broken bones in my hand and some serious bruising, but otherwise it seems I had dodged further serious injuries, if that list could be considered non-serious.

Olive stayed with me most of the time, relieved occasionally by James' mum and dad, Brianna and Reg. With my family over in Perth and my parents too frail to fly, I was grateful that they hadn't abandoned me as well, not that I thought they would. Reg in particular was one of the nicest men I had ever met, and he was a hopeless romantic. He would have dragged his more temperamental wife along with him if needed, though I'm sure that it never would have been, for Brianna loved her husband deeply and was always at his side.

Cheryl, Mattias, Lincoln and a few others from her work stopped in to see me also when time permitted. Cheryl in particular stayed a few extra hours here and there, and came once during lunch break to check up on me. During a quiet moment, I asked her the question that I had been biting my tongue over, and that I'm sure she knew was coming, but dreaded.