Whyyyyy?

"There are many times in life when things will happen that we can't understand. No matter what we do or who we talk to, things just won't make sense. Death is one of them. It's in those times where we have to look to the Lord. Philippians 4:7 reminds us that the peace of G.o.d, which pa.s.seth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus," the minister says in closing. "May G.o.d give you comfort now and forever more."

The bottomless pit is back as I fall in line behind the pallbearers carrying Rene to her final resting place. Feel like I'm about to lose the breakfast I never ate.

Before I make it out the door, Sydney's eyes find mine.

55.

SYDNEY.

I'm not in love with my husband.

Being at the funeral put a lot of things in perspective for me. It caused me be honest about a lot.

I sat in my car at the gravesite for about an hour watching Brandon stand above his wife's final resting place. He stood as the cemetery workers tossed dirt on top of her white casket like they didn't have time to have any compa.s.sion for the man in mourning. Brandon didn't flinch. Just stood there and watched until the job was done. Until he was sure Rene wouldn't push open her casket, crawl up from the grave and kiss him one last time. He loved that woman without question.

Watching him made me finally admit to myself that I never loved my husband. I thought it was love in the beginning. I quickly learned love doesn't make you question if it's love. You just know. You feel it. That feeling never came for me. Part of me feels like the only reason I can say I love Eric is because he's the father of our children. Subtract that aspect from the equation, there'd be no us. Wouldn't be a him and me.

The only reason I married Eric was because he asked. He was the first guy I dated willing to take the plunge of putting a ring on my finger. I became emotionally invested in the idea of being someone's wife even when I didn't necessarily want to be his wife. For a man to find me worthy enough to pledge his life to gave me validation. I never got that growing up and didn't want to end up lonely like my mom, so I jumped at the opportunity without giving it much thought at all.

Now, I know that was a selfish move. He was right when he said I've wasted ten years of his life. But I was right when I told him he'd wasted ten years of my life as well.

Eric and I have just been existing since he was released from the hospital a couple of days ago. We've barely said more than three words to each other.

I tucked the kids in bed about thirty minutes ago. EJ usually calls out asking for something random like a piece of bacon or a sticker shortly after putting him to bed. I waited for him to make his usual request before letting Calgon take me away, but I guess tonight sleep took him under.

My body relaxes as I sink deeper in the hot water. Feel every muscle relax as the conversation I had with my mom the day of Eric's accident replays in mind. She was the other woman to a man who left her for another woman. I never intended to be the other woman. Never intended to develop feelings for another man. I have these feelings for Brandon I've never had for any other man. Maybe it's because we found each other at a time when we had no other choice but to be honest with each other and honest about how we felt in our marriages. I didn't have to hide behind any facade to get him interested in me and vice versa. It just was. We just were.

The bathroom door creaks open. Eric walks in with hesitation in his step. "Can we talk?"

I sit up, cover my b.r.e.a.s.t.s with the warm rag.

He sits on the edge of the bathtub. "You've been avoiding me since your breakdown in the hospital."

"Your parents have been here and I wanted you to have time with the kids. They've missed you."

"So, you're just going to run around the breakdown, huh?"

The rag grows cold against my b.r.e.a.s.t.s. I want to dip it back into the warmth of the water, but all of a sudden I'm ashamed to let my husband see my nipples. Just feels strange after all that's happened. "I slept with him," slips from my lips.

"d.a.m.n it, Sydney."

I swear if his arm wasn't bandaged up, he'd try to knock down a few walls.

I feel like Delilah. Feel like I've found out the secret to my husband's strength. All these years he's walked around with such confidence, like nothing could cause him to stumble. But I've found something. Found the one thing to shut him all the way down.

Eric gets up from the tub, leaves me in my bath of shame.

I kick my feet out of the water, sit them on top of the tub underneath the faucet. The water's caused all the calluses on my feet to become magnified. My feet look rough. Blisters under both feet. May be time for new shoes and socks. Then again, I just bought some. It's all the running. Running from my problems, running from my misery. At some point, all the running catches up with you. No matter how much or far I've ran, I'm still here. My problems are still here. I'm still in an unhappy marriage. As my mother said, I either need to walk away or learn how to make myself happy.

Eric marches back into the bathroom. "Please tell me you didn't violate our vows."

Back to the familiar I go. Want to lace up my sneakers and run away from here. But I can't. Can't keep running. "What do you want me to say?"

"Say something."

"I cheated, Eric. I had an affair." I let the water out of the tub, stand on the outside with a towel clutched tightly around me. "Yes, I violated our vows."

There's so much disgust in his eyes as they pour over me. "It's that Brandon guy, isn't it?"

I nod. I grab a bottle of oil off the counter and head into the bedroom. Eric follows, sits on his side of the bed. Both of our backs facing each other.

On cue, our bedroom door swings open. In walks a little person with eyes barely open. "Mommy, can I have a rabbit?"

I rub the top of his head. "No, EJ. You can't have a rabbit, but you can go back to bed."

"But Billy at school said he got a rabbit for his birthday." He walks around to my side of the bed.

"You're not Billy and your birthday isn't for another few months." I slip my robe on top of the towel still holding me hostage. "C'mon, let's go back to bed."

This kid is a work of art. The moment his body hits the sheets, all I hear are light snores. I stand at his door and watch him. I love this little guy. I love both of my kids. I don't see how parents can hate their kids because they hate their father. No, I don't hate my husband, but I do feel some kind of way about him that could affect how I feel about my kids. I could look at them as a mistake. They've been everything but. They're what has kept me sane most of the time. It's because of them that I've sacrificed my own feelings. If only I had sacrificed my desires. Instead of handling my misery properly, I've caused others to be miserable. The kids may not feel it right now, but in time, they'll reap the mistakes I've sown.

Back in the master bedroom, it's completely dark. Every light has been cut off. I'm not even sure if Eric Sr. is still in here.

I move to my side of the room with the familiarity of a blind person. I've trudged this same path for years. The carpet moves under my toes, molds to my feet like memory foam. I grab a pair of boy shorts from the dresser, a tank top. Resume my position on my side of the bed. Before I pull the covers over me, I slather my feet with Vaseline, rub so hard to bring moisture back to my parched feet that it makes my hands feel like they're on fire. I stop before my hands get all scratched up. Slip on some socks to seal the moisture in.

As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see my husband is still sitting in the same spot on his side of the bed. His shoulders slumped, head hung low.

"I could've stopped Michael."

Moments ago I told him I slept with another man. Now he's admitting to nearly taking someone's life.

One confession warrants another.

56.

SYDNEY.

"Why didn't you?"

"After the last conversation we had, I couldn't."

It's been weeks since the last time Eric and I said more than a few words to each other. It was right before the accident, after things had already fallen apart in our marriage. He admitted I was a distracting convenience to him. I admitted he was a cure for loneliness to me. Maybe I couldn't form my lips to actually say that to him out loud, but the letter I had written him said it all loud and clear. Neither one of us was strong enough to stop things from going too far back then, and we're in the same boat yet again. "Tell me what happened."

"On the way to pick up Kennedy, Mike mentioned he had been wanting to talk to me about you. I didn't think anything about it. Figured it was another case of Rachel making a major issue out of something minor. But then he said he'd pulled you over for speeding. Said you had a man in your car with blood dripping from his hand. Said he'd seen the two of you together before."

Everything in me wants to deny what Eric's saying, but all it would do is make the situation worse. I draw my legs in, sit Indian-style, chin resting in my hands.

"He didn't say any more after that because his phone had rung. It was his wife. As they talked, I tried to put what he had said out of my mind. You'd just told me how unhappy you were. I know what happens when a wife isn't happy with her husband."

"But you said you were unhappy too, Eric."

He turns around to face me. "This isn't about me. It's about you, what you did. Yeah, I was unhappy, but I didn't go out and sleep with another man." He says that, then turns back away from me.

There's nothing I can say, though, at that time, I hadn't violated our vows.

"When we got to the school, Kennedy was outside in her usual spot waiting on me with Mr. Carter. He was in the midst of shaking my hand when Mike came rushing up to us. His disposition was off. He seemed angry."

My thoughts drift to when Michael pulled me over and had me get out of the car when he recognized Brandon's face. His disposition had changed then.

"He made a reference to her teacher's hand, asked him how it was healing. Mr. Carter looked at him dumbfounded. The more the teacher denied what Mike accused him of, the more irate Mike became. I'd seen him like that before. Whenever we'd responded to a domestic call and it turned out to be a result of infidelity, he'd have the same kind of hatred brewing in his eyes. I should've stopped him then."

Again I ask, "Why didn't you?"

"Riverpoint Park."

"What does that have to do with it?"

"Mike said that's where he saw you and Kennedy's teacher the first time. I started thinking about all the mornings you got up before the sun to go there. You were spending more time at the park or the gym. If something came up when you couldn't get out there, you'd be different. It was like you'd withdraw from me. I'd shrug it off, throw myself into work. Started picking up more shifts so I wouldn't have to see it."

"So you knew?"

"I get paid to notice things that try to go unnoticed, Syd." He coughs, tries to loosen whatever's gotten stuck in his throat. "My job is to pay attention to my surroundings, to look for things out of place. Twelve hours a day I have to be on alert. Didn't want to do that in my own home."

Part of me wanted him to notice. I wanted him to say something about my late nights out and my early morning runs. Wanted him to stop me from the temptation of sin before I was too weak to give in.

"I also get paid to pay attention to the truth. I knew Kennedy's teacher wasn't lying. I felt it in my gut. I heard her yelling, screaming for me to leave her teacher alone, that he didn't do anything wrong."

Now I know why Kennedy is mad with her father. Hasn't had much to say to him at all since he's been home. Though she won't admit it, I know she's happy her father is okay and she's missed him, but I don't know if their relationship will ever be the same. A lot of relationships have been changed as a result of what I chose to do.

"Mr. Carter ran off. Mike ran back to the patrol car. Kennedy was still screaming, but something got a hold of me and I ran behind Mike. I got in the pa.s.senger side and let someone else drive my fate. As Mike swerved in and out of traffic, my conscience kicked in. This wasn't a high-speed chase. We weren't going after a criminal. What we were doing had nothing to do with me or you or that innocent man. I put my hand on the wheel, tried to steer us toward sanity."

Eric's right. That accident had nothing to do with us. When Michael threatened me after walking out of the hospital with his minor cuts and bruises, I knew it had everything to do with his bruised ego. Rachel had betrayed him, she had gone behind his back and brought filth to the bed they shared. He saw his partner, his friend, the father of his G.o.dchild heading down that same road. He saw himself in Eric, saw his pain. Reminded him of his own. No matter how good his marriage was, he'd never be able to forget the betrayal.

He doesn't say anything for a while; neither do I. The more we uncover what has become of us, the more it becomes evident that we need to right our wrongs and move on before we tear apart more lives.

"Why did you sleep with him?"

I don't have to think about my answer. "Because I wanted to see how it would feel to be without you."

57.

BRANDON.

I stood by Rene's grave. I kept hoping it was just a dream. As more dirt covered her white casket until it couldn't been seen anymore, it finally registered that she was indeed gone.

It had began to rain, the ground grew mushy under my feet. I almost lost my balance and fell forward to join my wife six feet under. That didn't stop the workers from digging. Didn't stop me from standing. My mind was somewhere else. It had drifted to the last time I stood in that spot. Rain fell hard that day as well. Rene had come to clean our son's name, clean it of the residue that would cover it once again in a matter of days. Would she want me to do the same to hers? I imagined her extending her hand out and reaching Reggie's some six feet under. United again. She no longer had to live without him. When he pa.s.sed away, we had to learn how to live without him. We had each other to help make it through the rough times. Life went on without him. How would my life go on without her?

When she told me about the cancer as she signed our divorce papers, I was so angry I couldn't see how scared she was. As we fought in the rain, she showed me her fear, showed me what she denied me seeing all those years I thought she had fallen out of love with me. She didn't want a divorce. She never would've wanted to live without me. I knew that woman like I knew my social security number, and I knew the only reason we were standing there in that moment was because she was scared. I'd wished I had grabbed her the moment I felt her slipping away. I would've reached my hand in her breast, taken the cancer and placed it in my own chest. I would have rather let the disease be my end than hers.

I stood at that grave and replayed every conversation. Every laugh, every tear. Every time we made love danced through my head like Baby when Johnny Castle pulled her out of the corner. I was willing to stand in that rain soaking in Rene's eternal love until the Rapture. I would have, had a hand not slipped in mine and pulled me to the waiting limo.

There's a knock on my hotel room door. It has to be one of three people. By the lightness of the knock, almost sounding unsure as if they're at the wrong door, I figure it could only be my mother. It's been a long day of keeping a straight face in front of everyone. This last hour alone has left me pretty numb and not in the mood for company. I open the door without looking through the peephole.

"Can I come in?"

I move out the way so she can walk through.