A Life Well-Hidden

by Emily Nealis

  One might argue that it wasn’t just a fight, but a decade of disagreements and suspicion that came to a head that night. That day, Adam gave me an extravagant anniversary gift that should have calmed any fear I had regarding our relationship. The gift was symbolic of his commitment to me and the girls—a commitment to his family. But at the same time, this had happened before. This happened years ago, on the night our relationship almost ended and our marriage nearly fell apart. That night, Adam disappeared. When he returned, everything was different. It was as though he’d seen a ghost, a premonition of his life without me. He came back into the house, a complete mess, and vowed to change his life, get help, and get his priorities straight, which he absolutely did. I’d pushed that night out of my mind, repressing it more and more each year. However, over the past year, all the memories came rushing back, seeping through the cracks of my subconscious. I didn’t know why. All I knew was that there was something eerily similar between the way Adam was then and the way he was acting now.

  Was this self-sabotage? Was I just unable to accept my tranquil, bucolic life? For reasons I did not know, everyone else’s compliments toward me fell on deaf ears. I admit, I’ve become well-versed in ignoring and compartmentalizing uncomfortable feelings and situations. For the first few years of our marriage, I would never have dreamed of conceding that Adam and I argued, much less had marital problems of any kind. During that time, it was due to an inflated sense of pride and the desire to prove my entire family wrong. Later, it became a coping mechanism to protect our children from the complication of life for as long as possible. Now, I wasn’t sure whether we’d successfully worked through our problems or just become better at hiding them from the view of prying eyes.

  Today should have been nothing short of affirmation of the former—a flawless example of familial happiness. But I couldn’t help but blame myself for letting my suspicions and grudges from the past infiltrate such a happy occasion. I did my best to hide my change in mood, which was descending into a cyclone of frustration and paranoia by the minute. I couldn’t let it show; Adam would be so hurt, so angry that he’d done so much for me—more than I would have ever expected—to make our anniversary special. That’s what he did; he wouldn’t be predictable and go all out for our 10th anniversary, instead he would do something like this and surprise me with something completely unexpected on our 12th.

  If I let Adam know how I was really feeling, he would question my trust in him and demand to know what he ever did to make me distrust him. And what could I tell him? I had no explanation for my feelings besides just that—feelings. I couldn’t tell him my gut told me something was off, that even though he’d done everything right, that it still wasn’t enough. So, I continued to sit on the couch with June, looking over her shoulder, scrolling through photos of picturesque landscapes across the United States, trying to figure out how to dispel my fears once and for all.

  8

  September 20-21 – DECISIONS

  Diana

  For the first time since I met him, I debated whether I wanted to see Adam on Monday morning. I might have been able to bury his cryptic fight with Haley underneath months of charming words and promises for the future, but I would never be able to forget how I felt on Friday when I finally arrived home from the meeting. Sitting next to Adam in the cab of his truck, I didn’t know what to say. His attempts to engage me were responded to with short answers, devoid of detail. All I wanted to do was slam my fists on the dashboard and scream, Why? Why, why, why?

  Eventually, he asked me if I was alright, having noticed that I had not smiled at him once during our conversation. I hesitated, for some reason unsure how to begin. After staring out the window for a few moments, I turned to Adam.

  “I saw Danny on Friday. He came to a meeting at work in your place.” I paused, looking Adam in the eye, “He showed us your anniversary gift.” I studied Adam’s face, preparing to decipher his response. He nodded slowly, turning his head back to face the windshield. He began to smile.

  “Yeah,” He rolled his eyes, bringing his coffee mug to his lips, “That’s going to take a while to pay off.” He chuckled, either oblivious or dismissive, it was difficult to tell. I clenched my jaw and heard the joints crack in my ear. Fury flooded through me, giving rise to goosebumps on my skin. Adam’s nonchalance incensed me to no end. I stared at him, frozen, seething in my seat as he sipped his coffee and laughed about spending thousands of dollars on a gift with such implications for his wife who he claimed he was going to leave. Meanwhile, I had to hear about it from his friends and listen to him laugh about it. When he finally turned back around and saw my face, my eyes boring a hole in his forehead, the smile disappeared from his face.

  “What’s wrong?” Suddenly, he seemed concerned. Adam couldn’t be that stupid, it was obvious he knew exactly what I was upset about. I took a deep breath.

  “I wouldn’t want any other life than the one I share with you.” I recited Adam’s asinine words Danny burned into my mind, as if witnessing such a moment weren’t bad enough. I cocked my head to the side, “I love you, baby.”

  Maybe I was being immature, but my tolerance for Adam Hunt’s extra-curricular life with me was diminishing by the minute. Adam bit his lower lip and turned to face forward, leaning back against the headrest. Confronted with my anger as he tried to conceal his secret relationship from his wife, he stared ahead, deciding how to respond. After a minute of silence, Adam finally began to speak.

  “I can’t just not do anything on my anniversary, that would send up a major red flag.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My facial muscles spasmed and my eyes darted back and forth as I decided how to respond. I must have looked like I was having a seizure.

  “Of course, it would be a red flag. You told another woman you want to leave your wife for her,” I leaned toward him, looking at him in bewilderment, “Me—I am the red flag!” I exclaimed. I had no idea how to make it any clearer. Why was I the only one who found Adam’s actions absurd? Adam took a deep breath. More than anything else, he looked tired, perplexed, as though he didn’t feel like concocting an excuse for his actions.

  “I can’t just pick up and leave right now. There are a lot of things that need to happen first, and that takes time.”

  “So, when you said you didn’t want any life other than the one you share with Haley, that was a lie?”

  Adam exhaled in frustration, clearly exasperated with my desire to press him on the matter. At that point, I didn’t care. I wanted answers, which weren’t coming quick enough.

  “Judges aren’t kind to dads around here.” He said, shaking his head. He spoke often about his fear that he wouldn’t be able to see his daughters as much as he would like if he ever left Haley. I was unsure of what he was basing this fear on. Do family court judges inherently dislike fathers? More and more, this seemed like a catch-all response any time I questioned him about his intentions regarding the future of our relationship. I was no lawyer, but I also knew that custody laws exist, and judges don’t just forbid fathers to see their children. If anything, wouldn’t Adam’s role as the breadwinner make this less likely? The more I thought about it, the angrier I became with his attempt to sell me such a weak argument.

  “I’m sorry.” I began, wrapping both hands around my coffee mug and rotated my head to face him, “I didn’t realize you knew so many men who cheat on their wives and lose custody of their kids.”

  Adam’s muscles tensed and his face tightened. He scowled at me but said nothing. I stared right back at him, months of suppressed frustration bubbling to the surface. I took a sip of my coffee and continued but refused to break eye contact.

  “Are you drawing from a statistically significant sample? How many of you are there?”

  Adam lifted his arm and rested his elbow on the edge of the driver’s side window, rubbing his chin in thought. He pursed his lips, preparing to brush off my sarcasm. I knew him well enough by then to know when he was frustrated
with a response that contradicted his perceived reality.

  “If you had kids you’d think differently.” He mumbled under his breath, loud enough that I could hear him. I gritted my teeth and narrowed my eyes.

  “What did you say to me?” The venom dripped off my tongue with such malice, Adam avoided even looking at me. I pointed my finger at him, “I was doing fine before I met you. I didn’t ask you to tell me you loved me, I didn’t ask you to leave your wife, I didn’t ask you for a damn thing, Adam. You want to know what I did after I saw that video of you and Haley?”

  Adam turned his head to look at me. He said nothing, waiting for me to continue.

  “I felt like you. I got out of there as fast as I could, went home, and collapsed on my floor.” I felt my eyes begin to water and hot tears begin to seep out of the corner of my eyes, “I felt like you—writhing around on the floor in the dirt, wanting to die.” I held his eyes, lighting his irises ablaze. I knew it would hurt him to dredge up those memories, and I said it anyway.

  “You claim you want to be with me because you love me so much, but I’m the one constantly waiting and getting burned because I have to watch you give your wife gifts while you lie to her about your marriage.” I dragged my palm across my wet cheeks, forcing myself to stop crying. After a few moments, my eyes were dry again, much to my relief. Adam no longer looked angry. His face softened and he appeared more conflicted than anything.

  “My kids—“

  I smacked my thigh with the palm of my hand, startling him.

  “If you blame this on your kids one more time, I’m going to get out of this fucking truck right now!” I snapped at him. I looked away, questioning whether I should have done that a long time ago. I could get out of the truck and never come back, never speak to Adam Hunt again. However, the thought of doing that filled me with just as much anguish as when I remembered the words Adam wrote about Haley and when I heard him tell her he loved her with the same words and same tone of voice he spoke to me.

  Adam reached over and took my hand, gripping it tightly. He rested our intertwined fingers on the center console. I didn’t pull away. For some reason, I couldn’t do that, even at that moment of pure anger and despair.

  “I want to be with you more than anything, but I can’t abandon my family. I promise I’m doing everything I can to make sure that happens.” He paused for a moment, turning toward me, “Please, please be patient. I didn’t anticipate falling in love with you. I wasn’t looking for someone else, but now that I have you, I’m trying to figure out how to make this work. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

  Something about Adam’s words sounded very familiar, as though I’d heard them before. I almost laughed after realizing where I’d heard this exact phrase, on the same night I felt my life was falling apart. The uncanny nature of that moment distracted me from the hopelessness of the situation.

  “I know,” I briefly disassociated from the moment, recalling my conversation with Sam in the back of the bar, sitting at a cheap, uneven, wrought iron patio table, watching a sand volleyball game.

  “It just happened.”

  I parted ways with Adam that morning with as much of a resolution as I arrived with. I was so mentally exhausted, I didn’t even care. Finally breaking away at 7:00 to go to work was a relief. However, my relief didn’t last long. When I arrived at my office and checked my email, there was a meeting invite from Scott entitled, Staff Changes, scheduled for 9:00. The only other recipients were Sam and Jenna Garcia, who resided in the office next to mine.

  I was immediately filled with anxiety, as I had no idea what the title of the meeting meant. Knowing the university, it could mean anything. The meeting wasn’t even taking place in a conference room, but rather Scott’s office. The consensus was that unless an employee was part of the administration, anyone’s job could be on the chopping block at any moment. But our facility had been relatively busy for the past couple of years, ever since I was hired. Sitting at my desk, staring at my computer screen, I could only speculate what insidious processes were occurring behind the scenes. The university was also extremely political, and researchers—at least the ones I worked with—were not known for their congeniality.

  I spent the next two hours waffling between whether I should initiate a productivity rampage or start cleaning out my desk. Ten minutes before 9:00, Jenna tapped on my office door. Sam was standing behind her in the hallway.

  “We’re going to Scott’s office because we have things to do and we’re tired of waiting.” I nodded to Jenna and immediately stood up to join them. When we arrived at Scott’s office, he waved us in and told Sam to shut the door. I leaned against the window sill as Scott shuffled papers around on his desk and clicked away at his computer. Finally, he rested his elbows on the desk and scanned the three sets of anxious eyes in front of him. If he fired us right then, Jenna would probably start yelling or crying and threaten a lawsuit. I’m sure Sam would immediately initiate a silent campaign of technological sabotage that included electronically locking data and holding it for ransom. At that point, I wasn’t sure what I would do. Perhaps I would reach my breaking point and turn violent, but it was more likely I would wave my white flag and descend into a catatonic state of shock. What would I do, move back in with my parents? I didn’t know which was more humiliating—moving back in with my parents at age 25 or the reasons why I couldn’t move in with my “boyfriend.”

  If I get fired today, I will just blow my fucking brains out.

  Not really, but my life was rapidly coming to an end in my head. I stared at Scott, waiting for the hammer to drop.

  “I wanted to talk to the three of you because there’s been a major development. I’ve accepted a position with Colt Research, based in Tampa, as their Analytics Manager. I’ve spoken to management here and my last day with the university will be September 30th.” We waited in trepidation as Scott spoke. I wasn’t sure whether this meant we would be out of jobs or if he was informing us to ensure a smooth transition of his studies to a new PI.

  “The reason I’m telling you all this right now is because my employment with them is part of a major corporate restructure, which includes bringing on new department hires to work under me. My acceptance of their job offer was contingent on being able to bring my own people with me if I so chose. Therefore, I’m extending job offers to the three of you, if you are interested. Frankly, I’d prefer not to have to hire and train a new batch of incompetent people when I can hit the ground running with people who already know the basics and do excellent work.”

  The tension in the room began to dissipate as soon as we realized we weren’t losing our jobs. Instead, we were being offered new, and potentially better jobs. Even more surprising, Scott gave us a compliment. We were told that if we accepted, we would need to complete a formal interview with Colt Research as part of the hiring process. Furthermore, if we accepted the company’s formal offer, the position came with a 25% pay increase and relocation assistance to Tampa.

  “Are these contract positions or are they permanent?” Sam peered at Scott from behind folded arms, knowing full well there could be a catch hidden somewhere in Scott’s appealing offer.

  “These positions are permanent, so you can count on the full benefits package they offer. I’d like to get the ball rolling on this as soon as possible since there will be a lot of administrative details to take care of if you accept the jobs. You’d be looking at a start date sometime in late October. I’ll update you with details as I receive them, but I’ll need your decisions by end of business on Friday, the 27th.”

  “I need to call my parents and tell them to start looking for a house.” Jenna was already on her phone, her thumbs flying across the screen as we strolled back down the hall away from Scott’s office. She was talking a mile a minute, “I need to call Michael and tell him the news! Mom and dad are only in St. Pete; maybe he can take the baby and start looking at places. Oh my god, you guys, this couldn’t have come a moment too soon—“ Je
nna lowered her voice to a whisper, “As soon as I get that offer, I’m going to tell Kathleen Bentley to go to hell—you’re going, right?”

  “Is that a rhetorical question?” Sam mused facetiously, gazing up at the ceiling. He reached out and pulled Jenna back toward us by the elbow, lowering his voice.