Ripple Effect

by Jerald, Tracey

  “Do you think the attack escalated your forgiveness?”

  “I wouldn’t say it escalated forgiving Cal. I will say my priorities shifted. When your life is on the precipice of ending, you never perceive it in the same way. The injustices that seemed to matter so much still matter, but their significance is reduced. I don’t know if I’m making sense.” I’m frustrated.

  I always am when I get this question.

  “Talk it out,” he encourages.

  “The emotional weight of what I’d been through on the Sea Force didn’t allow for me to handle what happened in my marriage. The lines that were crossed by Cal? Well, he had to deal with them as much as I did.”

  “And he obviously did.”

  I nod. “Yes. Eventually.” I rub my hand back and forth over our child knowing this miracle under my heart wouldn’t exist if he hadn’t.

  “Would you attribute the lies as the single thing that almost broke your marriage?”

  I think carefully before answering. “It’s more complicated than just lies. Cal’s lies led to a lack of communication which grew as the years passed. We went from being almost obsessively in love with each other—it was like I bloomed when I saw him—to having a best friend that I lived with and occasionally had sex with. The extraordinary was missing. I thought about ways to get it back while Cal would be away because I realized I was lonely.”

  “When did it all start to fall apart?” Dr. Powell asks quietly.

  “‘Seek and ye shall find,’ Doctor. Or in my case, seek and it shall destroy.” My lips twist in bemused irony. “One day, one moment, and my world collapsed.”

  “You mentioned earlier you thought your marriage was over.”

  “Oh, I was certain it was. After all, when you walk in on your husband kissing another woman, it’s a pretty good indicator. Isn’t it?” I murmur, “Because seeing is always believing, right?”

  “So they say.”

  “The problem is when you don’t know the truth—ah, yes, back to those pesky little lies—it’s hard to believe the truth when someone you love finally wants to tell it to you.”

  “How hard was that for you?”

  How hard was it for me to believe my best friend and my husband were having an affair? “It was like a tidal wave crashed over me and sucked me out into the darkest water.”

  “Can you talk about it?”

  “Due to a lot of intense therapy, I can.” I start from the afternoon of my sixth wedding anniversary, when one call changed our lives.

  Irrevocably.

  52

  Elizabeth

  Year Six - Five Years Ago from Present Day

  “Sullivan.” I wake up to Cal’s inked back as he rolls over to grab his cell on the second ring. Instead of wasting the glorious vision in front of me, I decide it’s time to indulge myself in my husband’s body.

  After all, it’s not every day you get to celebrate six years of marriage. It hasn’t been easy, but we’ve made it. And right now, we’re on a good stretch where I don’t feel like we’re so far apart emotionally. My heart sighs happily as I curl an arm around his waist. Snuggling up against him, I begin to run my tongue delicately along the lines between his shoulders.

  Even though he shudders, it doesn’t distract him from his call. He’s all “Yes sir,” and “Of course.”

  I decide to up my game.

  Sliding beneath the duvet, I trail my mouth down over the dimple over his ass cheek before I get tough with him by rolling him onto his back. He instantly complies, though still manages to say, “I understand, completely.” But when I glance up at him from where I’m curled next to his hip, Cal’s eyes are on fire. His nostrils are flaring, and the muscles of his stomach are tense.

  I don’t go for the head of his cock like I’m sure he expects me to. Instead, I scoot down lower and gently take one of his balls into my mouth, licking and sucking. The other, I roll tenderly in my other hand. My nose against inhales the musky scent of us still lingering on him.

  When I hear him say goodbye, I release his tender skin and lift myself slightly to take the head of his shaft into my mouth, but I’m thwarted.

  “Have to make this quick, baby.” He rolls and tucks me under him.

  Before Cal can kiss me senseless, I slam a palm against his chest. “Why?” I ask suspiciously.

  A look of pain crosses his face before he admits, “I have to be on a plane in…”

  “It’s our anniversary, Cal!” I yell.

  His head drops until it’s touching mine. “I know. If it wasn’t for the fact this deal could blow up at any moment, there’s nothing that could pull me away from you.”

  I sigh, knowing it’s useless to argue. There are just days I wish he would see he’s already achieved so much. I thought it was all going to slow down once he bought into Alliance. When are we going to get a chance to enjoy it, each other?

  Suddenly, an idea pops in my head. “I could come with you,” I offer.

  A flash of shock crosses his face before he falls back on the bed laughing. “Sweetheart, I’m going to be gone at least two weeks. There’s no way you can be ready to go in less than three hours.”

  “I bet I can.” I start to move from the bed, but Cal catches me around the waist.

  “You won’t have the energy. Not when I’m done with you.” Lowering his head, he kisses all thought out of my head. “But I love you for wanting to come with me. I’ll miss you.”

  “I always miss you,” I tell him truthfully before Cal’s lips capture mine.

  And while I’m lying in bed after as he’s throwing clothes in a bag later, an idea starts to formulate.

  I don’t know why I never thought of it before. It’s so simple, it’s perfect.

  And I’m doing it.

  * * *

  Four hours later, wheeling a weekender bag behind me, I walk off the elevator toward Cal’s office and enter his outer office. Rebecca should be here; she said she’d meet me out front.

  I perk up a bit when I hear the low murmurs of voices coming from the direction of his inner sanctum.

  Oh, thank goodness. I bet Cal left something in his office and Rebecca is having to search for it; it’s not the first time it’s happened. Approaching the office, the voices become clearer.

  And a moment later, I wish they hadn’t.

  “I can’t believe we have to go today of all days.” A voice strangely familiar to me comes out of my husband’s office. “Not that I’m not excited, it’s just…”

  “I know.” Cal’s voice comes through the open door. “The timing sucks.”

  “I’m so happy, Cal. So excited.”

  “You and me both, Iris.” I can’t hear their lowered voices, but I’m close enough now that through the crack of his office door, I see my husband lean down and kiss my best friend’s lips. Then, as if that weren’t enough, he does something that tells me the truth about their feelings for one another.

  He gives her my smile. The smile he said long ago I brought into his life with my laughter and love. The smile he took from our bed this morning and is directing in the eyes of another woman.

  I think I might die right here if it weren’t for the distant ping of the elevator.

  Nonna said she didn’t help raise weak women. I wasn’t going to prove to be her exception. Quickly making my way over to Rebecca’s desk, I grab a piece of stationery to hastily scribble a note. I’ve finished writing it and am folding it on my way out the door when I run into my husband’s harried assistant.

  “Mrs. Sullivan.” She anxiously throws a glance at my husband’s partially closed door, telling me everything I need to know.

  The wife is always the last one to find out.

  “I’m sorry, Rebecca. I received an emergency call. Will you be sure to read this message to Cal once he reaches his destination? I know he’s already in flight.” The look of relief that flashes across her face makes me want to slap her.

  But I’m Dahlia Akin’s granddaughter, and no matter w
hat, they’ll never break me.

  No one will.

  “Of course, Mrs. Sullivan. I hope everything will be all right.”

  “In the end, I’m sure it will be best for everyone.” Leaving her to puzzle that out, I nod before making my way toward the elevator.

  I have no way of realizing the choice I made in that very moment would change everything in the next few months.

  Everything.

  53

  Calhoun

  Year Six - Five Years Ago from Present Day

  “Yeah,” I answer the phone with a snap. With Rebecca’s name having come up on the screen, I don’t engage the filter to hide the noise of the transport carrying us to Berlin, then to catch a flight to North Africa.

  “Boss.” Rebecca’s so quiet, I can barely hear her.

  “Becks, you’re going to have to speak up. I can barely hear you over the engines.”

  There’s a slight pause before, “I said, Libby left you a message. I was told not to read it to you until you made it to your destination, but I couldn’t wait. And you slipped out the back before I could hand it to you.”

  My heart, wondering what the hell I’m going to do to make this up to my wife, lightens a little. Maybe she’s not quite as hurt as I thought at me shooting down her idea of coming along with me. “What did she say?”

  There’s dead air on the other side. So much that I pull the phone away from my ear to make sure I’m still connected. I bark out, “Becks?”

  “I…I can’t read it, Cal.” I realize Becks hasn’t hung up. She’s gasping for air.

  I lurch forward, as much as the five-point harness holding me strapped in will let me. “What happened to Libby? Becks?” Sam and Iris’s heads snap in my direction. They’re both frowning. I shake my head and shrug to indicate I have no clue yet.

  “She’s not hurt.” I let out a rush of air—too soon, it appears, when Becks tacks on, “Physically. Oh, Cal. I was going to stop her outside, but I missed her in the elevator.”

  A ball of dread forms in the pit of my stomach. “What does the message say?”

  “I…”

  “Fucking read me the message!” I roar. Other than the plane, not a sound is being made.

  Rebecca begins to cry. “It says, ‘I wonder now if it’s irises or sunflowers that really make you smile. Does it matter when you kiss both of them? Don’t race home; I won’t be here when you get back. I guess our ‘always’ is over.’”

  My mind whirls. What the hell is Libby… No. Immediately, my eyes drift across to where Sam and Iris are clutching each other, likely flashing back to the last time we received an emergency call about Libby. Worry is etched on their faces. My mind is spinning. If Rebecca didn’t manage to stop Libby from coming up the elevator, then Libby…

  “No! Fuck no! She misunderstood what she saw!” I’m screaming at Rebecca. There’s not a single member of my team not listening in.

  “Whatever she saw, Cal, I’m sure she did. We all know you love Libby. She’s your everything.” Rebecca is openly sobbing.

  “She misunderstood.” I feel the dampness on my own face and swipe at it angrily. “I’ll call her as soon as I can. That will give her plenty of time to calm down.”

  “I figured you’d do that. So, I tried to contact her.”

  Bless Rebecca. I sag back in my seat. “And?”

  “And her number is going directly to voicemail. Cal, it says, ‘If this is my lying, cheating, son-of-a-bitch husband, I only want to hear from your attorney.’ Then it disconnects.”

  I don’t say another word. All I do is press End before saying three words to Iris and Sam.

  “You were right.”

  Then I hurl my phone to the floor with such force it should shatter into a million pieces. The only thing protecting it is the ridiculous case surrounding it. I just wish I had something like that over my heart. Because I break down, not giving a damn who sees.

  Libby used to tease me that I’d never remember our wedding anniversary. After today, knowing I’ve lost it all, how could I ever forget it?

  54

  Elizabeth

  Year Six - Five Years Ago from Present Day

  “What are you doing here, Cal?” I want to smack the pleading look off his handsome face. “I believe you were told by my attorneys I have absolutely no desire to see you. Ever.” My words are succinct in case my point wasn’t made clear enough by the utter disgust in my voice.

  “You left,” he says as if he’s still shocked by the fact I would walk out on our marriage after catching him in the arms of another woman.

  “You’re a smart man, Cal.” I push to my feet behind my desk, but I don’t walk around it. I need the barrier between us so I can hold up this cold facade and not use my nails to tear out his fucking wounded eyes as I unleash holy hell on him.

  “How long has this been going on, Cal?” I ask mockingly. “Months? Years?”

  He remains stubbornly silent in front of me, but each word I say is riling him.

  Too fucking bad.

  “I hope you were made aware part of our divorce mandates you being tested for AIDS and STDs.”

  His jaw begins to tick. “I never slept with Iris.”

  “It’s a pity I can’t believe you, now isn’t it?” I drawl. Fury over what I saw unfurls through me. “How could you do this to me? To Sam?” I hiss.

  “There are things you don’t understand…”

  “Do I need to recommend Sam gets a paternity test for Rachel?” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but God, seeing the pain they inflict on Cal makes it worth the further wounds I just caused to my own heart.

  “How can you stand there and believe the crap spilling out of your mouth?” He’s yelling now, and somehow it settles me.

  Because Cal being the injured party is a damn joke. “What would you do if you came home and found me wrapped in a man’s arms, Calhoun? If his lips had just lifted from mine? If there was an intimacy there you could sense?”

  “I’d talk to you,” he calmly says.

  “You’re so full of shit. Unless, of course, you wanted to talk with me about an open marriage?” His jaw falls open at my query. “So, what’s yours is yours, but what’s supposed to be mine is leasable? Fuck that. And fuck you.”

  “Libby.” Cal moves forward, but I hold up a hand. “Please, talk to me, honey,” he pleads. “There are reasons for what you saw.”

  “There’s nothing to say.” I’m firm on that.

  “Please. Give me five minutes.”

  I’m astounded he thinks he deserves five minutes of my time. There’s a small part of my heart that wants to hear what web of lies he wants to spin, but the large part that held out hope he’d call me after he got my message from Rebecca holds it back. Just the sight of him is making me more nauseous than I had anticipated at seeing him for the first time—though I had prepared myself for it being at the arbitrator’s office, not my design studio.

  “I can barely stand the sight of you,” I spit out.

  He winces, but it’s the God’s honest truth.

  I gave him forty-eight hours to get my message. Two days of nonstop crying where despite the vitriol I left as my voicemail, I was checking it to see if he cared enough to call. Instead, I was getting updates from Rebecca that, “Cal was out of touch and he would call me when he could.”

  After receiving that debasing message, I called my brother and had what may be the most humiliating conversation of my life that ended with Josh saying, “Pack a bag. We’ll get the rest later,” my brother came to get me to drive me to Akin Estates. It took me a week at home and a few days with the help of my mother, my brother, and my sister-in-law to move out of the home I shared with Cal, taking only the things that were mine—nothing of ours.

  Cal still hadn’t called. But Rebecca did still—business as usual—leaving me messages as if I gave a damn about how much longer it was going to be until Cal was going to be home because it wasn’t a home anymore.

&nb
sp; Three weeks after my nightmare started, six weeks after my sixth wedding anniversary, I was living in the house I inherited from Nonna before Cal made this attempt to bridge the gap between us. But now, it’s way too late. I’ve already engaged attorneys, removed my wedding rings, and systematically started closing the doors on my heart that had anything to do with Calhoun Sullivan.

  Just like I’m about to do now.

  “You must think I’m a bigger idiot than I thought if you think I give a damn about you and your reasons. Take them, and Iris, and go find somewhere to fuck them both.” I find the inner fortitude to storm around the desk. “Now, get out of my office before I call building security to have you escorted out.” Reaching my door, I fling it open. My hand is so tight around the knob, I’m certain it’s going to break off in my hand.

  Cal moves toward me slowly. There’s a wretched look of pain on his face I can’t look at anymore, as if his heart is suffering. “Don’t do this to us, Libby,” he beseeches.

  “I didn’t, Cal. You did. Remember that.” Just as he crosses the threshold, I slam the door with all my might. Then I lock it.

  I can’t care how Cal feels. I’m dying inside every minute I’m alive knowing the heart I believed was mine belongs to someone else. I’m the one who lies in bed night after night crying, my body reaching for him—intuitively—even though he’s spent more time out of our bed than in it. God, was he sleeping with Iris on all of these trips? What about Sam?

  He betrayed me, but what’s scarier is I never knew it. For however long, I lay beside him, loving him with my entire soul, and he may have been thinking about someone else.

  Just the thought sends me racing for the bathroom attached to my office so I can retch into the toilet. It isn’t the first time I’ve felt this way since I realized our forever was his for right now.