“What do you want me to say?”
“Tell him,” I screamed.
I knew Zane didn’t want to break Chad’s heart, but if he didn’t, he would break mine instead. I was terrified as to which way the pendulum would swing.
“I’m sorry, Chad. I’m not in love with you.” There it was. I would like to say I felt elated right then, but I didn’t. Desperately sad is the only way I can describe how I felt. There were no winners here, only losers.
Chad looked broken and didn’t say another word. He walked back inside and closed the door.
“Jenna, come on,” he said. “We should go.”
I didn’t reply but got into my car and drove off. Not in the right frame of mind to drive, but I did anyway.
I wasn’t sure where I was going.
Zane - hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
No truer words were ever spoken.
Chapter Nineteen
I didn’t speak a single word to Zane once I arrived home. The atmosphere was tense. I hated it, and I knew he would too.
Later that night, I made my way to the kitchen, unable to sleep. I had been craving a cigarette all day, and remembering my emergency stash, I felt my nerves loosen as I took my first drag.
I’d decided to look through Zane’s phone. I wish I hadn’t because it made everything seem so much worse. Not because there were further revelations, but it made me feel something I didn’t want to feel – empathy for Chad. I knew how he felt, but he had no right to anything from me, apart from anger. I didn’t want to feel sorry for him, but I did.
It wasn’t long before I heard Zane creep down the stairs and walk into the kitchen. He didn’t see me, although I’m surprised he didn’t smell the cigarette smoke as he usually has the nose of a bloodhound.
He jumped when he realised I was sat at the breakfast bar.
“Jenna, what are you doing?” he asked, irritated by the surprise, but even more so by the fact I had his phone in my hand.
“He loves you so much,” I said. “I don’t even know him, but I can feel it.” I tapped my chest, right where my heart was. “Right here.” I knew how Chad felt. We were kindred spirits. Strange isn’t it. The person you should hate the most, is the person you have the most in common with. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
“It doesn’t matter how he feels. I’m not in love with him, only you. I need you to believe that.”
“Why do I even care how he feels?” I replied.
I had stepped outside of my own life and was looking at the situation from the outside. Detached from it, I wanted to look at all angles. Pragmatic to the last. And as much as it bothered me, I could feel how much Chad was hurting because he loved Zane liked I did. But, his love for my husband was older than mine and deeper rooted, and it threatened my already broken sense of security. They had a past too, and no matter how I dressed it up, I couldn’t deny it.
Zane responded as I knew he would. “Because you’re the better person.”
“I just want the truth, Zane.” I was desperate. “It’s the only way we can try and move on from this. But, none of your bullshit, or trying to bamboozle me – just the truth.”
“I’ll tell you the truth, but you have to listen and not jump to conclusions.”
“If you do love him, as much as it’ll kill me, I’ll let you go.” I meant what I was saying. I loved him enough to let him go. People might find that strange, but for the tiniest of moments, I believed I was the one who was in the wrong, that I shouldn’t have been there, and that I had stood in the way of true love. Now, I know it was just heightened emotion, and that I was where I should have been, but even now, I would rather lose Zane if his heart belonged elsewhere, than try to fight a losing battle.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” he asked, and I knew he was getting angry.
“Because I love you that much.” What else was I meant to say? “I think you need to move out until you decide who you want.”
“No.” He waked toward me. “I don’t want to.”
He reached for me, but I slapped his hand away. If he touched me, I would lose my resolve and there would never be an end to this mess. I had to lose him to win him back. I wasn’t naïve in any way. I didn’t want him to go, but I couldn’t allow him to stay.
“Don’t touch me,” I spat. He stepped away.
“I won’t go.”
“But it’s what I want, and if you have any consideration left for me, then you’ll do as I ask.” I placed his phone down in front of me.
“That’s not fair, Jen…”
“Not fair,” I replied, rage coming from nowhere. I picked up the glass and threw it at him. I wanted it to hit him, but it didn’t. Now, I thank God for my poor aim, or his quick reflexes. “Don’t stand there feeling sorry for yourself, telling me what’s fair. This mess isn’t fair on me, or your children,” I said. “Did you even think of them when you were bending over for him?”
“I always thought of the three of you.”
And I truly believe we were always on his mind. The guilt he felt back then I would never deny. I wasn’t going to go easy on him at that time though.
“The guilt has been unbearable for me.”
“Ah, poor you,” I mocked. “Don’t ask me to sit here and take pity on you. You’ve had your cake and stuffed the rest down your lying throat.”
“I’m so sorry,” he said, trying to touch me again. “None of this was meant to happen.”
“Then why did you carry on and allow him to fall in love with you? Why couldn’t you have had your tawdry affair and left it at that?”
“It wasn’t an affair,” he argued. It was an affair, but it was easier for him to believe otherwise.
“Then what the hell was it?” I said, approaching him and screaming at the same time. He looked at me. What could he say? “I can handle the sexual side of what you’ve done, but when love is involved, you’ve crossed a line you can’t step back behind.”
“Please, Jenna, don’t make me leave. It isn’t like that for Chad and me, well, not for me at least.” He was deluding himself, but it seemed I was the only one who could see it.
“So, what was it? Just a fuck. A game you’re playing with both of us.”
“That’s not the person I am, and you know damn well.”
The more he defended himself, the more annoyed I felt. As far as I was concerned there was no defence to what he had done but mixed in with my own anger toward him was anger I felt toward myself. Why did I let it go on for as long as it did? Some would say I got my own comeuppance and I believe they would be right. Still, I was fighting with my own conscience, trying to make Zane and Chad the guilty parties when, in reality, we were all as bad as the other.
I forced Zane to go. It was the one way I could punish him. Deep down, he would have known I wouldn’t ever use the girls in any way, but for that small moment, it must have crossed his mind that not only was he losing me, but worse still, the girls too. He idolises his children, loves them more than anybody else in this world, including me, and to be taken away from them would shatter him. I wasn’t going to do that, but he had to go.
Before he did, I wanted him to know the extent of my own deceit. Not wanting to play the victim, he had to know everything. No more secrets and no more lies.
He was shocked to know I had been in the hotel room and had seen them at play. Even more so to realise I liked what I watched them doing. Admitting that gave way to my own shame. I hated the fact I liked it.
He marched off. Hurt. Shocked. Good, I thought. Now he knows how I feel. I felt sick, knowing he was going. Would he ever come back?
I heard the door close. What had I done?
I lit another cigarette vaguely aware the house was deathly silent. Was my marriage over? Right then, I truly believed it was. He didn’t put up the fight I thought he would, but that was Zane. Unpredictable. I understood. Right now, he’d be smarting, telling himself he was now the victim.
A thought occurred to me �
�� was he playing a game and was sat in the driveway waiting for me to chase after him? I darted to the front room window, clinging to that last bit of hope. I was too rash asking him to leave when it was the last thing I wanted, but he took me at my word and left me.
Zane – I’m not usually one for games, and refused to play along, Jenna asked me to go. I didn’t want to, but she was adamant. I did what she wanted. I wasn’t going to stay somewhere I wasn’t wanted. Plus, it gave me the excuse I needed to hide and try to live with the shame I felt.
Chapter Twenty
I heard nothing from Zane.
Days passed by and the silence spoke volumes. There hadn’t been a word to me, or the girls. The latter part worried me more than anything else.
The anger I initially felt had dissipated somewhat, but it wasn’t because I no longer cared. I didn’t want to throw away years of love and marriage. He really was an amazing man, but somewhere down the road, he got lost. He won’t be the first, or the last to go through it, and I firmly believe some people are too quick to throw away what’s important. Love really can overcome a lot of adversity.
There was still anger inside, but to rid myself of it, we had to talk, so I picked up the phone and called him, even after telling myself that was something I wouldn’t do.
Voicemail. I hated voicemail. What was the point in mobile phones if you didn’t answer it?
“Answer the damn phone,” I said, my last shred of patience wearing thin.
I’d been fielding calls from his mother, who like him, if she caught the scent of matrimonial disharmony, nothing would deter her from the quest to fish out every last piece of information she could. Whatever the reasons, to my mother in law, I would be in the wrong, her precious child sainted and haloed at birth. So, trying to avoid the third degree, I told her he’d gone away on business and left his phone behind.
Was she satisfied? I don’t know. Probably not as she has a naturally suspicious mind, but the last thing I needed was her on the phone to my own mother, both forming an uneasy alliance and guessing wildly at whatever was going on.
I called Zane’s mobile again. This time, my own temper was building to cataclysmic levels. Waiting for the beep, I was preparing myself to deliver a barrage of obscenities. BEEP. And I let him have it. Lock, stock and barrel. “Zane, you’re a selfish arsehole and don’t deserve to have children who miss you.” I didn’t want to cry. “And if you don’t call me back, I’m going to go to the police and report you as missing. I’ll have no choice but to tell them everything, and let’s see how fast the news spreads then.”
I didn’t like to threaten him, but the gloves were off, and I had nothing but my own pride to lose. The voicemail did the trick as he did call me back, but by then I was ready for an all-out war. Words were exchanged, my anger still fresh, but I wasn’t prepared for his parting shot – he wanted a divorce.
We all have days where we wish we were single again, devoid of any and all responsibility. I am no different, but these days I’m carefree in different ways.
I’m still foremost a wife and mother, but those roles no longer define me. There is now a freedom that exists between me and Zane. And that freedom is there because there are no more secrets between us.
We are two sides of the same coin, and even though we don’t always agree, we find a way of meeting in the middle. Mostly!
There are no divorcees in my family. We’ve been lucky in that we found our soulmates. That doesn’t mean there are none of us that haven’t had trying times, but the thought of having to tell my girls, then my parents my marriage was over was something I had never envisioned.
The thought Zane wanted to end what we had shattered me, my confidence and stripped me of everything I was. I didn’t want a divorce. I wanted to find a way back to the place we were in. That happy place where we did meet in the middle despite the fact we could rub each other up the wrong way at times.
I’d played a dangerous game and lost spectacularly. Asking him to leave pushed him into a corner, and I should have known better. He would come out swinging, fighting for his own survival.
People who read this may wonder why I apportion blame to myself for him wanting a divorce. It is quite simple really. I knew he loved me, he couldn’t have made it any more transparent than he already had, but I had broken my own golden rule and over-reacted, which wasn’t in my nature. I became shrill and hysterical, thinking the louder I shouted, the more he would hear me, but the opposite had always been true of Zane. He didn’t thrive on confrontation outside of a work environment and craved the quiet life. Me stamping my feet pushed him further into himself until he felt the only way to escape was to leave me and dissolve the marriage. I let my emotions control everything. My heart led the way and for somebody usually cool and forward thinking, it was the wrong thing to do.
These days, we do have the odd row. Usually over something stupid and throwaway. When we are both tired, we can irritate one another unknowingly, but we made a deal never to go to bed on a row.
Since Chad died, we both realise we have to live in the moment, not in the past. One of us could be taken at any time, so we always make sure the air is clear, that we tell one another how much we love each other. I admit I don’t feel the need to be so vocal about it, but it’s almost ritualistic for Zane. Something he is compelled to do, and definitely a part of his OCD. Some people flick a light on and off eighteen times, or scrub surfaces until their hands bleed, so I get that part. It enables him to leave the house and set about what he needs to do.
Zane – I didn’t want a divorce back then, not really, but sometimes, staying is harder than leaving and I didn’t have the strength to fight. I gave up, believing Jen would have been happier without me. How wrong was I?
We still have the odd spat, but nothing major. I can’t be bothered and prefer the quiet life. If somebody wants a row from me, it can go two ways. I’ll walk away, or if I’m in that frame of mind, which isn’t often, I’ll wipe the floor with them.
Chapter Twenty-One
I had to go and see Chad.
He was the only person that could help me, but what right did I have to ask him for anything? I’d be extremely lucky if he didn’t slam the door in my face, at the very least. He didn’t shut the door on me, but his welcome wasn’t overly friendly either. I’d seen him look better too. Dishevelled would be an accurate fit and he had a haunted look in his eyes, troubled by what life had become. I felt compassion for him, but I was there for my own ends.
I needed to know if he’d seen Zane. He found it funny I’d gone there to ask him of all people. When he realised how much it had cost my sense of pride to stand there and ask for his help, he invited me in.
It soon transpired he hadn’t seen Zane, which left me more worried than ever.
The bitchy side of me crept to the surface and I sat in his home, which was worthy of an OK spread, watching him try to fight back the tears. He was the enemy, that was a fact, but I was struggling to see him in that light. Chad was a casualty of Zane’s selfishness. We both were and that’s why we were able to form such a unique bond later on down the line.
There was a bond between us. I finally understood how much Zane had always meant to him. That he had walked away from him out of fear of rejection from the world at large. I felt sadness for him, for both of them really, that society kept them apart. Today, they would have walked off into the sunset, getting their happy ever after. It would have been only right, but that wasn’t to be. Zane and I found one another and wrote our own fairytale, albeit different from the one he probably envisioned during their torrid love affair in college.
I found myself engaging with Chad, to the point I felt uncomfortable having a warm and cosey chat with the man who’d been fucking my husband. It was time to take my leave, safe in the knowledge Chad would tell me if Zane turned up.
I stood up and looked at him. “I don’t hate you, Chad, I need you to know, and that probably shocks you as much as it does me. Under different c
ircumstances, I’d have welcomed you into my home and family, but I have to do what’s right for me and our children.”
“For what it’s worth, Jenna, I’m sorry.” I wasn’t expecting an apology, but my own response was all the more surprising, for both of us, I suspected.
I hugged him, and for that moment we were united by circumstance and the love we felt for the same man. I let go of him.
“If you hear from him, tell him to call me, please.”
Chad called me.
He knew where Zane was, and it is testament to his character that he didn’t let me suffer.
He was holed up in a hotel in the centre of Manchester. Hardly a million miles away from Cheshire, and certainly no distance that should have stopped him from seeing the girls. I was mad at him because no matter how things were for us, his relationship with his daughters should have been unbreakable. I wanted to boot him up the arse and tell him to open his eyes and see the damage he could potentially cause. If he didn’t want me anymore, I’d find a way of dealing with it, but there was no way our girls were going to get short thrift from him, or anybody. They were the most important people in this mess. They had to be safeguarded at all costs, and more important loved, and made to feel loved. I would accept nothing less and if he couldn’t guarantee me that much, we really would have problems. He knew I’d fight to the death for my girls, and if it meant I had to block his access until he got himself together, so be it. I looked forward to hitting him with that piece of information. It wasn’t going to be a threat, but a promise. Any mother reading this has the power to bring out their inner lioness when their children’s happiness is at stake.
How Does a Moment Last Forever? Page 7
