Romantic Lies

by Monique DuBois

  I scrutinize the woman he’s with. She’s pretty and looks to be about my age or a few years older. Is she his “other woman?” It appears so, as they’re standing fairly close and talking about something in an intimate way, as if they know each other well. I can barely make out what they’re saying.

  “It feels like the right thing to do,” he says.

  The woman nods. “I agree.”

  “Well, let’s take the next step, then. My heart will be my guide.”

  “Good,” she says. “It’s time. I’m happy we’re doing this.”

  “Me, too.”

  I half expect him to lean in and kiss her, but instead he ushers her up the walkway, past where I’m hiding behind the hedge, and toward the house. When they’re gone, I close my eyes and let out a low sob.

  My heart will be my guide. His words reverberate through my mind and cut through my heart. His heart guided him into the arms of another woman, who he obviously chose over me.

  Isabella was right; I found out what I needed to know. I saw the truth with my own eyes. Liam is in love with another woman.

  I had to come all the way out here to see this? I wish Isabella had just confirmed what I already knew. It might have saved me some of the pain of seeing it with my own eyes.

  Tears flow down my cheeks. What a bastard. I can’t believe I ever fell for his words, his lies. I’d believed him when he told me he’d loved me. I’d believed in everything about him.

  I cover my eyes with my hands and, crouching behind the hedge, let myself sob. I need to get it out, need to experience the shock of seeing him like this. I’ll let myself cry for five minutes, but that’s it. Then I’ll pull myself together, call a taxi, and head back to New York City…back to my old life. Back to the life I had before I met Liam.

  I’ll survive. I’ll be okay.

  I just need to get it out right now: all the waves of hurt and grief.

  “Abigail?” a voice says. I jerk my head up to see Liam peering at me from above the hedge. His eyes are wide and eyebrows raised in surprise. “What are you doing here?”

  I stand and gather myself, flicking the tears away with a quick hand. I don’t want him to see me so broken. “I came because I needed to know the truth. I needed to know why you left. Isabella said I would learn what I needed to know at Fairmont Estate. So here I am.” I swallow hard, trying to compose myself. “Well, now I’ve seen what I needed to, and I’ll be on my way now. Have a nice life, Liam. I just wish you’d had the balls to tell me the truth from the beginning.” I spit out these last words angrily, and he looks taken aback. I don’t care. He needs to see all the pain and devastation he’s caused me. He needs to see it in my eyes, hear it in my voice and words.

  He holds my gaze. “It’s not what it looks like.”

  “What, telling some other woman that ‘your heart will be your guide?’ So did your heart guide you away from me? Or did she?”

  “She’s a doctor, Abby.”

  “Great, rub it in. So you’re in love with a rich doctor instead of some lowly real estate agent…not that it matters that I probably make more money in one month than she makes in a year.” I know I sound ugly, spiteful, jealous, but I can’t help it. It’s how I’m feeling right now, and I want to cause him as much pain as he’s caused me. Or at least a fraction of it.

  He exhales, and then reaches out to me. “Let me explain. Please.”

  I swat him away. “No need. You broke up with me, remember? No need to explain anything. I saw it all clearly with my own eyes. Heard it, too.” I swallow back more tears, and my voice warbles. “I just wish you hadn’t led me on. I…fell for you. I gave you my heart.”

  He looks pained. “I gave you mine, too. But it was never going to work. I have too much baggage.”

  “Yeah, I’d say having another woman counts as some pretty significant baggage. Does she know that you were also in a relationship with me?”

  He shakes his head. “You’ve got it all wrong. I’m not involved with the doctor.”

  “Then why did you end our relationship? What’s this big secret that you’ve been keeping from me? The lie between us?” I level my gaze at him, trying to appear stronger than I’m feeling. “Isabella told me that you’ve been keeping something important from me. Something that forced you to end our relationship. What is it? I have a right to know, Liam.”

  He frowns and looks away. His Adam’s apple bobs. He rubs his forehead, refusing to meet my eyes. When he speaks, his voice is tight, strangulated. “I didn’t know you’d show up here. I’m unprepared for this.”

  “I’m leaving anyway, so you might as well tell me. I still think it’s that woman I saw. You two looked so close.” I swallow hard at remembering them standing so close together, in what appeared to be such an intimate way.

  “We’ve known each other for years,” he says. “She works here. At Fairmont Estate.”

  I blink. “So this isn’t her home?”

  “No. This is a long-term boarding and care facility. For mentally ill and brain-injured patients. She’s a doctor here.”

  I stare at him. “But…I don’t understand.”

  He avoids my gaze. “I…can’t talk about this.” He runs a hand through his hair and looks off into the distance, his jaw clenching. When his gaze returns, his eyes are somber. “It’s too difficult. I’m sorry.”

  My heart seizes up at his pained expression. I reach out and touch his arm. “What is it, Liam? What are you sorry about? Please tell me.”

  His shoulders slump. “If I do, will you go? I don’t want to cause you any more pain than I already have. You deserve better than me, Abigail.” His voice breaks, and he looks at me with such a stricken expression that my heart aches. “I love you, but we can’t be together. I want you to move on and have a happy life with someone else, someone who can give you everything you need and deserve. It’s just not me. I’m ashamed I ever let it go as far as it did.”

  He loves me. Present tense. That’s all I needed to hear. “Liam, I love you, too,” I say. Tears well up in my eyes. “Whatever it is you’ve been keeping from me, we can get through it. I know you’ve been struggling with your wife’s death. It’s understandable if you’ve had to get mental help over the years or even stay here at Fairmont Estate. I wouldn’t judge you for that. Ever. In fact, it’s admirable. I know how much you’ve had to overcome—”

  “I’m not mentally ill,” he says abruptly, cutting me off. “Nor do I come here for any sort of help.”

  I blink. “Oh…okay.”

  “It’s something else. Something that prevents us from being together and always will.” His eyes hold mine. Haunted eyes. Sad eyes.

  My chest feels hollow, and I can barely breathe. “Please tell me.”

  His eyes search mine. “After I tell you, will you always remember that I loved you? Will you hold that close to your heart? And then will you leave and never look back?”

  “I can’t do that,” I whisper through a tight lump in my throat.

  “It’s the only way.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  I take a deep breath. “Okay, I’ll promise to leave Fairmont Estate, but I can’t promise much more beyond that.”

  “Okay. But just know that I won’t be able to see you again after this.”

  “Is that truly what you want?”

  “Yes. I need you to walk away forever. I need you to go live a happy life without me.” His eyes search mine. “Can you do that?” He looks as though he’s fighting back tears.

  Tears well up in my own eyes. “You make it sound like goodbye. You make it sound like forever.”

  “It is.”

  “Why? It doesn’t have to be this way. We can overcome this, whatever it is.”

  “Not this.”

  I stare at him. “What is it?”

  “I’m married. And I won’t leave her.” He meets my eyes. “Ever.”

  five

  Time stands still for several moments. “I
don’t understand,” I finally whisper as hot, salty tears begin to spill down my cheeks. “How can you be married?”

  “I have been, for many years. I should have told you.”

  “Damn right, you should have told me! Why didn’t you?” I want to wail and pummel his chest with my fists but refrain. “Why didn’t you tell me before I fell in love with you? Before we moved in together?”

  “I knew it would be a deal-breaker,” Liam says. “I was being selfish.”

  “Yes, selfish,” I say through sobs. “A selfish bastard. You cheated on your wife so you could have sex with me. You kept me as your mistress.”

  “It’s not like that. I was being selfish in that I wanted to experience happiness again after being so unhappy for so long…for all these years.”

  I stare at him. “If you’re so unhappy with her, why don’t you divorce her?”

  “I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, you can’t?”

  “You’ll have to meet her to understand why.”

  “Meet her?” I sputter. “Meet your wife? You have got to be joking.”

  He levels his gaze at me. “She’s a patient here.”

  “A patient?”

  “Yes.” He holds a hand out to me. “Please. I want you to see the truth for yourself. And then you can leave and never look back. But at least you’ll understand why we can’t be together.”

  Mutely, I let him take my hand. I let him guide me down the path and toward the imposing mansion. His hand feels warm and steady on my back, and my chest constricts. I miss his touch…his essence.

  But he’s married. He’s not mine and never was.

  We enter the tall building, and suddenly it looks like a hospital inside instead of a mansion. It’s a high-end residential living facility bustling with activity. Nurses and orderlies pass by with clipboards and carts, and patients are spread out through the facility, engaged in a variety of activities. Closest to us, a group of residents are seated in the main room on plush couches playing cards around a large, mahogany table. Some of them look up as we pass, and then go back to playing cards.

  We pass through the grand room to another smaller room, where other residents are gathered watching TV, accompanied by various staff. These patients look lower-functioning, as some of them are drooling or being attended to by nurses.

  We enter a narrow corridor and head down the hall, passing rows of rooms. Some of the doors are open, and I see residents lying in bed or sitting at tables. Some are asleep, others are being attended to by nurses who are feeding or caring for them. A few are screaming and thrashing as orderlies hold them down, and I quickly avert my eyes as we pass.

  We stop at a room with a closed door and a plaque that says the name “Black” on the door. Just seeing Liam’s name—and his wife’s—on the door causes my heart to drop.

  It’s real. He’s married.

  But who is his wife? And what has happened to her?

  Liam turns to me. “This is where she lives. Ready?”

  I take a deep breath, not sure if I really want to meet her, but before I can speak, we’re approached by a tall woman. I recognize her as the same woman from outside in the garden.

  “Hello, Doctor,” Liam says. “I brought a visitor, my friend Abigail.”

  Friend. So that’s all I am to him now.

  The woman assesses me briskly. “Nice to meet you, Abigail.” Then she turns to Liam. “I’ll have the discharge papers ready for you at the front. You can move her to Brownstone by the end of the week.”

  “Thanks,” Liam says. He turns to me. “We’re moving my wife to a smaller facility where she’ll get more personal treatment.” A shadow passes across his face. “It’s a hospice facility, as she’s recently taken a turn for the worse. It’s what the doctor and I were speaking about in the garden. It’s been a difficult decision, because my wife has been here for many years. But she’s getting worse, and it’s time to move her. It’s what my heart has told me I need to do, even though she’s gotten excellent care here. Doctor Miller agrees.”

  The tall woman nods. “She’s been having more seizures, and her overall health has taken a turn for the worse in the last few months. She needs a higher level of care that only a hospice residential program can offer. She’ll have twenty-four-hour nurses, emergency treatment on site, the whole bit. It’s the right thing to do.” She peers at me over her glasses. “It’s been difficult for Liam to see his wife so ill. He rushed up here after her last episode, and he’s been here since.” She gives me a faint smile. “I’m glad he has someone here to offer him support. He needs it.” She nods to us both, and then disappears down the hall.

  I stare after her, my mouth dry. Then I turn to Liam and whisper, “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize…”

  He puts a finger to my lips. “No need to apologize. It’s a complicated situation. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” I notice the dark circles under his eyes. His face is unshaven and drawn. For the first time, I realize how tired he looks. How worn down and sad.

  Extremely sad.

  “Have you been here since you left our place?” I ask. “You said you were on a business trip.”

  “Yes. I couldn’t tell you where I was going. I had to leave immediately as she had one of her worst seizures yet. Since then, there have been a lot of things I needed to sort out in regard to the power of attorney and changing facilities. Then she had another grand mal seizure while I was here and went into cardiac arrest. It was a close call, but we made it through.” He levels his gaze at me. “No one knows how long she’ll hang on. It could be days, weeks, or even years. The doctors have said there are some cases where a patient in her state can survive for years having seizures and close calls. It all depends on how strong the patient is. The point is, I need to be here for her.”

  I exhale slowly. “So your wife is…” I search around for the words but can’t find them.

  “She’s brain damaged. Severely. She can’t care for herself in any capacity.”

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, my throat tight. He looks so haunted, so worn down. “I had no idea.”

  “How could you? I didn’t have the guts to tell you. I knew it would be a deal-breaker.”

  “How can you say that?” I say. “I love you, Liam. This doesn’t have to be a deal-breaker. The fact that you love your wife enough to stand by her all this time shows your depth of character. It makes me love you even more.”

  He stares at me with those broken, devastated eyes. “But I’ll never be able to give you anything beyond the temporary. I can’t marry you because I’m already married to her. The night she almost died, I sat at her bedside and begged her to hang on. The doctors said she might not ever come out of her coma, but I promised her that if she lived, I would always be there for her. I would never leave her, never divorce her, no matter how tough it got. I promised I would always be by her side and care for her, until the end of her life. I just needed her to hang on. And then she pulled through. She survived. She’s never been the same, but I’ve kept my promise to her.” His eyes search mine. “Don’t you see? It wouldn’t be fair to you to ask you to stay by my side through all of this. This is not something you’ve signed on for. I can’t ask that of you. Besides, it doesn’t feel right. It would be as if we were waiting for her to die in order to begin our lives together, and I can’t stomach that.” His voice breaks. “I still love her, you know.”

  “I know,” I whisper. “And it’s okay. I understand.” I search around for the words to express what I’m feeling, but I can’t find them. I swallow hard, around the hard lump in my throat. Tears sting my eyes. The idea of not being able to marry the man I love, for who knows how long, and of possibly not being able to have children and a family with him someday, is something I hadn’t considered. It’s devastating to think I might not be able to share those things with him…that he’ll always belong to someone else for as long as she’s here. Our relationship would always be in limbo.

  In some ways,
it truly would be as if we were waiting for his wife to pass.

  It doesn’t feel right to me, either. In fact, it feels completely wrong, sick. I don’t want a relationship based on waiting for another’s demise. It feels so wrong in every way.

  Maybe he’s right. Maybe his secret is a deal-breaker. I can’t imagine being in perpetual limbo, or of giving up the dream of marriage and motherhood.

  But I also can’t imagine giving up Liam.

  From his expression, he seems to know what I’m thinking. He looks resigned. “Now you understand,” he says in a half-audible tone. He leans in and gives me a kiss, just once, on my lips. The gesture is enough to make me want to burst out sobbing.

  “Maybe there’s a way—” I begin, but he cuts me off with a shake of his head.

  “There’s no other way.” He turns and grasps the doorknob. “I want you to meet Mia, and then you can go.”

  I stifle a gasp and grab his arm, stopping him from opening the door. “Mia? But I thought your first wife died.”

  “No. She didn’t die. That’s the lie that I told you. I’ve only had one wife. Mia. She tried to kill herself, but didn’t succeed. She’s never awakened from the overdose all those years ago.” He pauses, clears his throat, and continues slowly, as though it’s difficult to get the words out. “She’s brain-dead, Abby. She can’t care for herself. She doesn’t recognize me.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I blink back tears.

  “She did die that night, you know. Just not in body. That’s how I rationalized telling you that she’d passed away. I told myself that she would want me to move on, which I’m sure she would. But I didn’t tell you the truth. I was afraid I’d lose you. Instead, I almost began to believe the lie myself. Against my better judgment, I let myself fall for you. I allowed myself to go further with you than we ever should have gone. None of it was right, because it was all based on a lie. Mia isn’t dead. Not truly. She breathes, and as long as she does that, I’m her husband and always will be. It was terrible of me to keep this secret from you, to not tell you that I’m a married man, and that I’ll be caring for Mia for the rest of my life. I made a promise to her, and it’s my duty to keep it. I know she would have done the same for me.” He chokes up and looks away.