Unfaithful (The Complete Trilogy)

by Clancy, Joanne

  There was a mumble of gratitude and a few raised glasses. How she wished in that moment that she wasn't pregnant and could have had a glass of champagne to steady her addled nerves. She cleared her throat and continued. She offered her congratulations to her husband and thanked everyone for attending. Then she talked about the business and how much it meant to her and Mark. Everyone looked at her kindly, sipping their champagne and smiling. Finally the end arrived and the part of the speech that Rebecca had practiced over and over was about to be delivered.

  “I would like everyone to get to their feet and raise their glasses in a toast to my beloved husband.” Rebecca turned towards her husband. There was a scuffle as everyone pushed back their chairs and scrambled to their feet. They raised their glasses in unison.

  “A toast,” Rebecca said, “to my husband and his wonderful mistresses, Penelope and Shona, without them this evening would not have been possible.”

  There was a loud collective gasp as Rebecca dropped her bombshell. Mark's face went deathly white and he fixed a gaze of pure and utter hatred on Rebecca that literally made her shudder. She could see that he was desperately thinking of something to say that could possibly salvage the situation.

  “Rebecca, darling, you're not feeling very well,” was all he could stutter. “She's been experiencing terrible mood swings recently. We had a disagreement before we came here this evening.” His voice trailed off as he surveyed the aghast faces that looked back at him in contempt and disgust.

  “Rebecca is perfectly correct in what she's saying,” Penelope announced loudly from her place at the other end of the table. “Mark McNamara has been sleeping with Shona and me for almost a year.” She raised her chin in the air as all eyes turned to her. Shona looked like she wanted to hide under the table and she kept her gaze firmly fixed on her clasped hands.

  Rebecca shot Penelope a look of gratitude. She had been afraid that the younger women wouldn't have been brave enough to go through with their plan, but they came up trumps for her in the end. Penelope went to stand beside Rebecca, almost dragging Shona behind her. She took Rebecca's hand saying, “Rebecca, we are both very sorry for hurting you so badly.” Rebecca nodded graciously and squeezed the other woman's hand encouragingly.

  They turned to face Mark together. He looked at them blankly. Then he looked helplessly at his guests. Rebecca could see his whole life was flashing through his mind and for the briefest of moments she felt sorry for him.

  “I, I...” he stuttered. “I'm so sorry,” he stumbled, before running clumsily from the room.

  Chapter 32

  Mark ran through the hotel foyer and stumbled outside into the cold night air. He ran down the magnificent drive of the hotel, as the guests looked after him in shock. He didn't know where he was going but he kept running anyway. He couldn't comprehend what had just happened in the banquet hall. She's ruined me! She's ruined me! He kept muttering to himself over and over again. Backstabbing bitches! His mind was racing. He ran blindly into the dark night. Several cars blew their horns at him as he stumbled into the road. Eventually, he slowed down, overcome by physical exertion.

  His reputation was ruined beyond repair, he was certain. There was nothing he could say or do now to exonerate himself, even if he dared to deny everything that Rebecca had said at the exhibition, who would believe him instead of her; a heavily pregnant woman, especially when she confronted him with his two mistresses. He cringed as he recalled the horrified and disgusted faces of his friends as they'd stared at him. How he wished that it all had been a terrible nightmare from which he would awake at any minute.

  He slowed his pace to a fast walk and was suddenly aware of the biting night air. He'd left the party in such a rush that he'd forgotten to take his coat and was outside in the freezing elements with just a light blazer jacket. He shivered and headed into a MacDonald's where he ordered a coffee and sat in a corner booth to try to gather his senses together.

  What could he do? Was there any way that he could salvage the situation? Would Rebecca take him back somehow? He left MacDonald's late that night, knowing that he only had one option, and that was to beg Rebecca to give him one last chance. This was not a time for pride and he was willing to do anything. He got a taxi home and let himself in quietly through the back door. He poured himself a stiff drink and knocked it back in one go. He jumped when he heard Rebecca's voice behind him.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice dripping ice.

  “How could you do that to me tonight?” Mark asked, pouring himself another drink. “You've ruined me! You've ruined our business. You've wrecked my reputation. How could you humiliate me like that; in front of all our friends and clients?”

  Rebecca looked at her husband incredulously. “I humiliated you?!” she shouted at him. “I've ruined you! What about everything you've done to me?”

  Mark had the good grace to look ashamed then.

  “You've destroyed our marriage. You've humiliated me. I gave you a chance and you still couldn't be honest with me. You only admitted to sleeping with Shona because you'd figured out that I only knew about one of your mistresses. Well, it's amazing how your sneaky little secrets and lies were revealed in the end, isn't it Mark?!”

  They stood there in stony silence, neither of them moving or looking at each other.

  “So what do we do now?” Mark asked, sighing and pouring himself another whiskey. “Don't you think you've had enough?” Rebecca snapped at him, not answering his question.

  “What do you care?” Mark shot back at her.

  “I don't actually,” she retaliated.

  “What now?” Mark demanded.

  “Whatever, Mark!” Rebecca yelled. “Do whatever you want! I'm beyond caring anymore.” She stormed out of the kitchen and upstairs to bed. Mark went into the living room and spent the night on the couch, wondering how his life had reached such a low point.

  Chapter 33

  “The doctor will see you now, Mrs McNamara,” the receptionist beckoned for Rebecca to follow her. Rebecca followed the matronly looking receptionist as she walked the narrow corridor to the doctor's private consultation room. She tapped lightly on a heavy oak door and pushed it open. She smiled politely at Rebecca and walked briskly back down the foyer, her stilettoes clipping loudly on the wooden floors.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. McNamara, I'm Dr. Brianna Moynihan.” The doctor held out her hand and firmly shook Rebecca's hand. Rebecca was surprised by the strength of the younger woman's handshake.

  She believed that the strength of a handshake revealed a lot about a person. She felt that a strong handshake indicated sincerity. Weak handshakes were a pet peeve of hers. Rebecca was surprised by how young Dr. Moynihan seemed. Her strawberry blonde hair was ironed into a straight style, which hung around her face. She wore no makeup and her intelligent green eyes were framed by a pair of very unruly eyebrows. Her thick black spectacles gave her an air of authority but, somehow, Rebecca expected her to be older.

  “I received a letter from your doctor last week referring you to me.” Dr. Moynihan looked at Rebecca kindly, “would you like to tell me what's wrong?”

  Rebecca's eyes unexpectedly filled with tears and she desperately tried to swallow a lump in her throat.

  “Take your time,” the doctor said gently, passing Rebecca a box of tissues.

  Rebecca felt overwhelmed by the kindness in the younger woman's voice. She wiped her eyes and blew her nose loudly.

  “It seems like you've been through quite a bit lately,” Dr. Moynihan prompted.

  “Yes,” Rebecca gulped.

  She told the doctor all about her unexpected pregnancy and her relationship with Mark. Dr. Moynihan listened carefully, scribbling notes in her diary at intervals. Rebecca felt anger and hatred building within her as she poured her heart out.

  It was as if the floodgates had been opened. Years of pent up frustration were slowly being released. It was such a relief to be able to talk to someone about her thoughts
, her feelings, her fears, her opinions. She hadn't realised how utterly desolate and alone she had felt for so very long.

  Dr. Moynihan sat there and listened, really listened to her. Rebecca kept expecting her to stand up and order her out of the room, to yell at her that she was being too emotional and was blowing her problems out of proportion.

  She expected her to scold her and tell her that she didn't know how lucky she was, that there were so many women in the world with so much less than her, women who struggled to put food on the table every day, women who lived in fear for their lives. All she had to worry about was her husband's indiscretions.

  She felt overcome, but Dr. Moynihan listened intently to her every word. Rebecca knew she wasn't judging her. She believed that the other woman really wanted to hear her and wanted to help her. Eventually, Rebecca paused for breath. Dr. Moynihan sat back and smiled.

  “How was your husband when you first met him?” she asked.

  “Well, Mark was and still is a very attractive man,” Rebecca said thoughtfully, remembering back to the heady days of their early courtship. “I suppose it was his physical presence that initially attracted me to him; he's six feet four and an athletic build. He was incredibly charming and gallant. He was gregarious and very popular. He was head of the student's union at college and even now he's very active in Dublin's Chamber of Commerce. He seems to draw people to him quite easily. Those early days were amazing, he made me feel like I was the most beautiful and interesting woman in the world. He still has that effect on me, even now, when he chooses to turn on the charm. More than his charm and his good looks, he came across as being a traditionalist, a family-oriented man. Almost from the beginning of our relationship he was talking about us having a family. If he heard of anyone being unfaithful, even complete strangers he would get very angry.”

  “How quickly did your relationship become serious?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

  “Ours was a whirlwind romance,” Rebecca continued. “I know it sounds like a cliché, but he literally swept me right off my feet.We were engaged within six months of meeting, much to my parents' annoyance and we married straight after university.

  “What would you consider to be your husband's flaws?” Dr. Moynihan asked, as she continued to take notes.

  Rebecca paused. “Apart from the obvious?” she asked, a note of sarcasm creeping into her voice.

  “Yes,” Dr. Moynihan replied, neutrally.

  “This may seem petty, but he's always been meticulous about his appearance,” Rebecca said, “almost to the point of obsession. He would think nothing of going to a luxury boutique and spending hundreds on designer clothes. He once spent three hundred euro on a pen! I couldn't believe it when he showed it to me. We are comfortably well off now, but spending that much money on a pen was far too exorbitant.”

  “Indeed,” Dr. Moynihan said.

  “He also gets bored extremely easily,” Rebecca continued, “he can rarely sit still and just be. He has to be doing something all the time. He has a few hobbies. Running was a major obsession a few years ago. The enthusiasm he exhibited for running was almost unbearable. I was exhausted just listening to him planning his running routine. He ran several marathons, but then he just quit one day, completely unexpectedly and he's never run since.”

  “Did he say why he suddenly stopped running?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

  “No, he didn't explain really, he just said he didn't feel like it anymore. I suppose he burnt himself out.”

  “How was your intimate relationship?” Dr. Moynihan asked, matter-of-factly. Rebecca coughed, suddenly feeling embarrassed about discussing such a personal part of her life.

  “Almost non-existent towards the last year of our marriage,” Rebecca managed. “Of course, I recently discovered that he was having a very active sex life, just not with me. He's admitted to sleeping with several women and I've since discovered that he was also sleeping with prostitutes. One day, I saw on our credit card statement that he'd taken quite a large sum of cash out of our credit card. There was no reason for him to withdraw that money and for once he had no plausible explanation. I questioned him incessantly, demanding an answer. I wouldn't let it go, like I usually did. Eventually, Mark admitted that he'd spent the money on prostitutes, apparently he'd been visiting them throughout our marriage.”

  Dr. Moynihan looked up from her note writing, an expression of shock on her face.

  “It feels like he's been living a double-life throughout most of our marriage,” Rebecca continued, her voice cracking slightly. “On the one hand he seemed like a respectable married man, a high-standing member of the business community but on the other hand he was carrying on these illicit affairs behind my back. When he finally admitted to all the affairs he had no remorse whatsoever, no understanding of why I'm so devastated. It seemed like he was boasting at one point, with no sense of the impact his words were having on me. He actually had the audacity to say to me, “you have to understand, Rebecca, I've slept with a lot of beautiful women.””

  Dr. Moynihan looked at Rebecca incredulously. “What on earth did he mean by that?” she asked.

  “I have no idea,” Rebecca said sadly, “but that was the sentence that did it for me, the final nail in the coffin of our marriage. You should have seen the look on his face as he said that to me, like he had a need to be with these women, some sort of a medical condition. He was nearly demanding that I understand.”

  “What about his traditional values?” Dr. Moynihan asked, quickly referring back to her earlier notes. “Exactly,” Rebecca smiled, “that's exactly what I asked him to explain to me. I wanted to know where that young man who I fell in love with went, the man who would get so angry when he heard about other people having affairs, even people who he never knew.”

  “What was his response?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

  “He looked at me coldly and said that he pretended to be holier than thou but it was all a smoke screen.”

  Dr. Moynihan gasped, looking horrified. “I'm sorry,” Dr. Moynihan said quickly, trying to regain her composure. She looked visibly shaken by Rebecca's last words.

  “Oh, it gets worse, doctor, I'm afraid,” Rebecca said.

  Dr. Moynihan watched her patient's face carefully. Rebecca looked like a newsreader who was delivering some horrific news about some disaster which was completely separate from her. This is a woman who is deeply traumatised, Brianna thought. She tried to maintain an expression of calm while the other woman continued to speak.

  “When I insisted that Mark should leave, and that I wanted a divorce, he launched a charm offensive,” Rebecca said.“He claimed that he was a victim! Can you believe it? He declared himself a sex addict and that he was in need of treatment.”

  “I told my sister all about it, she was incredulous. She said most people wouldn't believe it if they read it in a book, but like the old saying goes; truth is often stranger than fiction. Mark wrote a letter of apology to my sister. He explained his “problem”, saying that he was committed to recovery, that's how clever and sneaky he is, but my sister was having none of his nonsense.”

  “What did you do?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

  “Well, we were living apart at that stage, but I agreed to engage in therapy with him. I didn't want my marriage to be over. Mark is the only man I've ever loved. We have a son together, Christopher, who's left home now and another baby on the way any day now. I don't know, looking back I think I was just weak. I didn't want to be alone. It's taken me too long to realise that I've been alone for a very long time.”

  “How are you still standing?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

  “I don't know,” Rebecca answered. “It hasn't been easy. It still isn't easy. I'm just trying to put one foot in front of the other, get up every morning, eat, sleep and do it all again. Christopher and the thought of my new baby keep me going and the hope that one day I will be ok again.

  I suppose that's why I'm here, talking to you. I just want to get Mark out of my life and out of my mind
so that I never have to look at him or think about him again.”

  “Are you divorced yet?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

  “Not yet,” Rebecca sighed, “it will take some time. We have a judicial separation order from the courts, but it will be another few years before we can legally divorce.”

  “Has Mark showed any regret or humility?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

  “Not an iota,” Rebecca almost laughed, “but he's absolutely determined to get what he says is an equal share of the assets. He's even made an inventory, right down to the wooden spoons and a tin opener. There's not a shred of decency in him, no guilt. He fooled everyone. Everyone thought he was a person of principle. He proved us all so very wrong, especially me.”

  “Was he ever physically violent?” Dr. Moynihan asked.

  “No, he wasn’t physically violent. He always said that he'd be afraid to touch a woman because he could probably end up killing her in one punch. He was emotionally abusive though,” Rebecca said, “he always wanted his own way. He wanted to know where I was and who I was with. He even had the cheek to accuse me of cheating on him, when he was the one who was cheating all along. I've never so much as kissed another man.”

  “Typical manipulative behaviour,” Dr. Moynihan muttered. “I see from your general practitioner's notes that you have suffered from anxiety and depression over the past few years,” the doctor said, consulting her computer for a moment.

  “Yes,” Rebecca concurred, “more so recently.”

  “Completely understandable, considering everything you've been through,” the other woman said sympathetically.

  “Thank you for being so understanding, doctor,” Rebecca said, “I was so afraid of not being believed, of being told that I'm paranoid.”

  Dr. Moynihan looked at her in shock. “Rebecca, none of this is your fault,” she said emphatically, “I believe you unquestionably. You will get through this, and I will help you.” She squeezed Rebecca's hand again. “I'm afraid our time is up for today,” she said, “but I'll give you a call tomorrow so we can arrange some dates in our diary for some further appointments.”