UNINVITED

Chapter 24

     
For the past two days, I worried my head with questions about Alec’s attack, trying to solve a problem that should be the least of my worries.

     My lawyer told me over the phone how Tom shredded the divorce papers into pieces and said to her face he wasn’t signing any documents. Well, that was expected. It didn’t come as a very big surprise to me. She said she had sent an application to the court and was waiting for a reply. Meanwhile, I was supposed to gather enough evidence of our abuse and possibly of his infidelity. Which was why I left the farmhouse early this morning and drove to a restaurant in Park Slope.

     Anne lived around here in a suburban house. I had called her earlier and told her I wanted to meet her and catch up. I didn’t tell her the truth. I figured it was going to drive her away, but then I reminded myself she was planning to tell me about Tom. Had she been remorseful and decided to come clean? Or was the call supposed to inform me about my flawed marriage? Whatever it was, I didn’t care anymore. All I wanted right now was for Tom to sign the divorce papers.

     The restaurant felt like a cemetery, I thought I was the only person there. When I glanced around, I noticed a couple sitting in a booth, eating and laughing. The man stared at the young woman whose cheeks turned red each second. He said something and she giggled. Then they clicked glasses and sipped, their eyes never leaving each other.

     I watched them as I stabbed the fork into the Bruschetta, cut a morsel with the knife, and ate it. Their conversation got livelier. The woman’s eyes dilated, and I wondered if she’d seen a ghost. I peered at them, almost craning a neck. I caught a glint in the sunlight pouring into the room. A ring. She covered her mouth with her hand while she stretched the other toward him. A grin plastered on his face, he put it on her finger. She brought her hand to her eyes, flipping it here and there, confirming it wasn’t a dream while her smile widened. She was happy and surprised.

     I had been like her some years ago. The happiness you felt was inevitable. It happened to many people in different ways. It all depended on you having an idea he’d propose or being utterly clueless. From the looks of things, the woman had no idea he would.

     When I took Tom’s ring and accepted to be his wife, I thought it was the happiest day of my life. For months, I tried not to forget it. But now I wanted my memory wiped off, specifically the memories I had with Tom—if that was even possible. To those young lovers, I wished them a good marriage. The man wasn’t leering too much. Maybe he would be a faithful husband.

     I saw them morphed into Tom and me. Four years ago in a restaurant like this. It was easy to retrieve the memory. I giggled as he placed the wedding ring on my finger. My stomach churned, but I didn’t feel an urge to puke. Tears had stung my eyes. A rivulet glided down my cheek. The love of my life had proposed to me. What reason did I have not to say yes? If it was possible to travel back into the past, the first thing I’d have done was refuse Tom’s invitation to have dinner after I found his phone. Decisions that changed your life for good were difficult to forget. That’s why it was advisable to be cautious when making them.

     The reverie wore off when the door slid open. I heard indistinct conversations in the entryway. Glancing back, I lifted a hand and called out, “Anne. Over here!”

    She looked in my direction and approached my booth, her dark ponytail swinging wildly behind her back. Tall and lithesome, Anne had the stature of a runway model. As usual, she was dressed with flair. The kimonolike dress she wore cost hundreds of dollars. And the matching stilettos, which kept clicking as she neared me were quite expensive as well. She wore an emerald necklace I had seen in a tabloid recently. I was sure she used her seductive looks to attract Tom. Her spotless face with sharp cheeks, pointed nose, and thin lips—she’d used those features to snatch my husband. I couldn’t stop thinking she was a traitor. Or maybe she was.