A tortured groan. “I forced myself on her.”
A long silence as her gaze flickered over Ben’s face. A hot ball of shame in Maddison’s stomach as that reality found a home inside her. Memories and emotions knitted together, and she finally confronted the truth.
She recalled the lack of reaction from Tina that day. The way she was slumped on the floor, detached and unmoving. She remembered the dazed glaze of her eyes, the paleness of her face, as she silently strode out the front door afterwards.
Maddison, at long last, forced herself to see her husband for who he was back then. The violent way he had gripped Tina’s head. The ferocity of his movements. The brutal twist of his features.
But so much destruction happened after that. For Maddison to admit that her husband was capable of rape on top of everything else, would have been the end of her. As difficult as it was to admit, it was easier to blame Tina. To punish her husband. To pretend that it was simply an affair. She wasn’t proud of that, but she also couldn’t change it.
When she spoke, her voice was weak. “I think, in some way, I’ve always known that, but I couldn’t accept it.”
“I’m so sorry. I’m to blame for all this. I don’t ever deserve your forgiveness.”
“What you did that day is your burden to carry,” she said. “Not mine. I can’t. Not anymore. Everything I said, still holds because I need to forgive you to be able to move on. I’m doing it for me. Whether you can forgive yourself, that is totally up to you.”
His bottom limp trembled, face crumpled. He lowered his head into his hands and burst into tears.
“You owe it to yourself to make this right, Ben. For the kids. And for me.”
After a long while, he sat up, wiped the tears from his eyes, sniffling. “I’m doing my best.”
“Then you keep doing that.” Their best was all they could do. There was no other choice. Because, the reality was, the past was in the past. It was dark and horrifying and it created consequences that were still impacting them to that day. Maddison was ashamed by some of the things she had done, but she had been dealt her punishment. She would pay for her crimes.
Blame, shame, guilt and grief had never done her any favours. Maddison wasn’t going to keep all those emotions in her heart anymore. It was too soul-destroying. No way could she buckle in and shoulder her long future in jail if her oppressive past was still riding her. She had to let all that go. Make a clean break from Ben. And get on with life.
If only she had done it sooner.
Chapter 42
Tina sat in her therapist’s office. Her defence lawyers had said it would look favourable if she received mental health help during the length of the trial. She certainly hadn’t been about to argue with the experts. But now that it was all over, there was no need to keep up the charade.
Heather, her psychologist, sat in the chair opposite Tina. She was young. Reminded Tina a little of herself all those years ago, believing she could make a real difference in people’s lives.
“You must be feeling very relieved,” Heather said conversationally as their session started.
“Yes, but I think I always had hoped for this outcome. Truth, in the end, prevails, doesn’t it?”
Heather smiled. “Yes, truth, I think, in most instances, is always the winning path.” She frowned then, sympathy shaping her features.
Tina resented that look. Sympathy was strangely patronising once she had stopped playing the victim. As though she were so broken, so incapable, she needed someone to pity her and champion on her behalf. She was almost at her wit's end with it.
If not for the trial, she wouldn’t have lasted a single session with Heather. Nothing Tina spoke about during her sessions was ever truthful anyway. She didn’t delve into her childhood trauma. She couldn’t risk Heather’s files being subpoenaed and her history blaring from the pages like a bright red flag. A history that could indicate a damaged child cum revengeful adult woman, perhaps capable of murder.
Tina didn’t hate Heather for doing her job or for choosing that profession. She was once very much the same herself at the start of her career. Human nature was innately empathetic, but she’d had too many harsh lessons, too young, about the realities of life and the human condition.
Well before any person should ever butt against such truths, she had learned that there were two types of people in the world: those who were good-natured, kind and empathetic, and those who took advantage of those who were good-natured, kind and empathetic.
She had never earned brownie points for being moral. For being a good little girl. Life didn’t care about such trivialities. A serial rapist could live their long life in the lap of luxury, existing in their self-built Utopia. While a hardworking, virtuous man, doing good in his community, could be struck dead at forty-two from a stroke, left to wither away in hospital as his grieving family gathered around his bed, wondering how that tortured end could ever come to such a good man.
Tina had read all the news articles about Juliette. How it was so unfair that a beautiful, young, blonde woman with such a gorgeous smile, who never hurt anyone, could succumb to a terrible, horrifying death. Especially in a town like Gladstone where murder was rare.
Juliette’s shield of virtue was nowhere to be seen when Tina stood before her, wrecking bar poised like a tiger snake, ready to strike. Nowhere because virtue was only a story people told themselves to elevate their sense of self above others around them.
The endless battle between victim and victor. But even victims used their victimhood as power, otherwise, there would be no reason to stretch that mindset out, sometimes across years, even decades. There had to be some twisted, irrational underlying benefit, even if it were subconscious and hidden.
Tina had been like that once. She still didn’t know why she had maintained that mentality for so long. But what she did know was that a victim, despite the benefits, was still a victim. She lost more than she had ever gained by being that person.
All the manipulators, the opportunists, the deviants, had gravitated to her like she was a black hole for their perversion. They could see what Tina hadn’t been able to see in herself—her vulnerability, her weakness. But then she had decided, in a single moment, that she wasn’t going to be ‘her’ anymore, and she fought like a rabid dog to get her life back.
“Did you want to talk about the investigation and trial, Tina? The emotions you might be feeling?” Heather asked. “Perhaps you hold some resentment towards Maddison?”
Tina pursed her lips, suppressing her smile for Heather’s naivety. She sat back in her chair, finding a comfortable position. “You know, I never told you this. But when I was about your age, I worked as a psychologist. For about eight years all up.”
Heather leaned forward, her eyes widening. “No, you didn’t mention that.”
“You remind me a lot of myself.”
Heather looked down at her notes to avoid Tina’s eyes.
“The very last patient I had taught me a valuable lesson,” Tina said.
“Really? What was that?”
“He was an older man. Nearly seventy. His wife of forty-five years had died eighteen months earlier and he was grieving her loss. He was also worried about something else that was happening. Desires that were swelling within him now that the one person who suppressed those feelings was gone. He was attracted to young boys and it deeply disturbed him.
“He swore black and blue that he had never acted on those impulses in any way. Not a pornographic picture. Not even an innocent picture. He looked away when he passed children at the shops or in the street. He was cautious to never be alone with his grandchildren. But he was having thoughts and he believed while they were just thoughts, he could nip it in the bud before it got worse. Before his thoughts turned into actions.”
Heather nodded, moved her hand in a way that prompted Tina to continue.
“I was quite experienced by the time he came to me, but I was still gullible. And, honestly, I’d never wo
rked with someone who suspected they were a paedophile. I spoke with my boss about him. We did all the assessments to check if he was a risk. Informed all the correct channels. I was permitted to proceed with his therapy. I genuinely believed that if I could just help this guy, then I could stop him from ever hurting children.” She didn’t mention that he had hit a raw nerve with her. She thought if she could ‘fix him’, all his potential victims would never have to suffer like she’d had to.
“He hadn’t committed a crime. He genuinely wanted therapy. So, I worked with him for eighteen months. We delved intensively into his childhood. He had suffered horrible, horrible sexual abuse. I felt the deepest sympathy for him, and this made me want to help him more. He was doing well. Making progress. Completing his homework—you know, the hard, gritty work patients have to do on their own between sessions.”
Heather nodded.
“And then I received a subpoena for his files. The police had found the skeletons of three boys buried in the ground beneath the crawlspace of his house. He was charged and convicted of their sexual assault and murder.”
“How did you feel about that?”
A brow rose, her head tilted to the side, then straightened again. “Like a fool. Betrayed. Mostly, I was embarrassed. He had completely manipulated me. Lied to my face and I had believed him. But, as I said, I learned a valuable lesson. One I have carried with me to this day.”
“And what is that?”
“Monsters are made. But they’re still monsters. You can never forget that no matter what disguise the monster is wearing, how sweet their voice sounds or how foolproof their story is.”
Heather’s eye twitched. She crossed her leg in the opposite direction. “What do you mean by that?”
Tina smiled, got to her feet, and slipped her bag over her shoulder. “Some monsters are past saving.”
“What does that mean?” Heather asked, more demanding now, her tone higher pitched.
Tina didn’t look back as she strode to the door, opened it and walked out of that room for the last time.
Chapter 43
Yarwun was experiencing a sunny Sunday morning. The growl and chug of lawnmowers and whipper snippers could be heard on the wind as men across distant properties tried to tame the unruly explosion of lawn growth.
Tina rolled out of bed and opened the curtains. She was naked. The sunlight rushed in, warm and yellow. She glanced over her shoulder at Chris. He was smiling at her, running his gaze over the length of her body. Not in an ogling way, but with reverence.
He patted the space beside him. “Dressed like that, you might want to come back to bed.”
Outside, the chickens were clucking. The rooster was crowing. The gardens were blossoming as spring stretched its arms and the fruit trees were full and ripe.
Tina crawled on her hands and knees across the bed towards Chris and straddled his lap. She kissed his face, his lips, lingering at his mouth before trailing her lips down his strong jaw to his neck. Rough stubble against her soft mouth.
No remorse or indignity for what she had done. Not when this was who she had fought for. Love conquered all. That was how the fairy tales from her childhood had ended. What those stories forgot to mention, though, was that sometimes you had to fight to the death to get your happy ending. You had to be your own hero. And a little bit of revenge didn’t go astray.
Tina had wanted Ben to lose everything, exactly like he had done to her.
And she had succeeded.
Maddison, Isabelle and Juliette were nothing more than collateral damage.
After making love with Chris, fully experiencing the wonderment, the pleasure, of every moment, Tina showered, dressed, kissed Chris’s cheek and promised she’d be back soon with a surprise.
While she was gone, Chris mowed the lawn. He was returning the ride-on mower to the shed when Tina arrived home. The scent of petrol and freshly cut, fertile grass lingered as the Mini Cooper roamed up the gritty drive and parked in the carport.
He met Tina beside the car, kissed her cheek. Boots encased his feet; the soles were now bright green from treading over the lawn.
“Hey,” he said, eager to know where she had been, and mostly, what the surprise was.
She lifted onto tiptoes and pressed her lips to his, kissed him slowly, delighting in the moment. For the past few weeks, as she had drifted off to sleep, his big, warm body beside her, she had never known a time she was happier.
Maybe because she’d had to climb so high, fight so damned hard, to reach that summit. Or maybe because she knew the agony of losing her quiet, simple but rewarding life, so to have it, once again, in her grasp, meant so much more. Any complacency was gone. Chris was a treasure to her. A real treasure. And she loved him so very much.
Tina wasn’t sure how Chris would react if he discovered she had done all this for him—for them. But she would never take that risk. No, she’d keep to her version of events. A version so well-practised, so well-planned and executed that the details were almost real to her now.
Occasionally, when she reflected on the past, for just a moment, she would forget that Kadie wasn’t really her daughter. That she hadn’t actually visited her grave and cried. She would recall the night Maddison appeared at her bedroom window and would see Isabelle’s face in her memories instead. She would forget that those were just stories. A concocted narrative. A means to an end.
But then again, she was always so good at that. Dissociation. Of building new worlds to exist in when reality was too much. The plan she had executed to get away with murder was no different. A twisted kind of truth. Lies repeated so many times that they took on the shape of reality. And slowly vanishing behind the lies was all that was left unsaid.
“I’ve felt like a boy at Christmas this past hour,” Chris said.
“Me too,” she squealed and reached for a box sitting on the passenger seat. She carefully picked it up and carried it into the house. Chris took his boots off at the bottom of the stairs and followed her inside to the living room.
She sat on the floor, the box between her legs, and opened it. Chris hadn’t had a chance to sit when a black, white and brown shaggy puppy jumped out into Tina’s arms.
“A puppy?”
She smiled, nodded. “An Aussie Shepherd. We’ve got a big yard for her and time to groom and care for her. She’ll be a challenge, but I think we’ll appreciate having her around.”
“I thought dogs were too messy?”
She shrugged. “Yes, but, hey, it’s time.”
He reached for the puppy and lifted her into his arms. Her furry tail wagged, and she whimpered with excitement. “Hello there, gorgeous little girl. My God, you’re adorable.”
Tina watched Chris, unable to wipe the smile from her face. “You can name her if you like.”
He grinned so wide as he held the puppy up to his face and touched his nose to her snout. “I think I’ll call you Sarah.”
Tina’s stomach wrenched with pain. But that was the whole purpose of the dog. A way for Chris to move on from all that life he lived between Isabelle and now. If he wanted to call the dog after his daughter as a way to cope, she wasn’t going to complain.
“Perfect,” she said. “Sarah it is.”
“I think I’m in love already.”
Tina laughed as she got to her feet and dusted the fine puppy hair from her clothes. “Me too.”
His smile faded and his eyes softened as he came closer. With Sarah still against his chest, he bent his head and kissed Tina. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
A teasing glint in his blue eyes. “No, I mean, thank you, for everything you’ve done for us.”
She flinched. “Pardon?”
“I’m happy again. For the first time in a really long time. You always seem to know exactly how to save me. From that very moment, all those years ago, when you called my name in your office. I’m not sure you can understand how good this feels.”
A sharp breath inwards. “What a
re you saying?”
“Since when have you ever allowed a travel mug of coffee in your car?”
She lowered her gaze, bit down on her bottom lip.
“And I saw the prescription tablets on the fridge. I’m much taller than you. It may have been out of your sight, but it wasn’t out of mine. I know you down to your bones, Tina. They weren’t for you—well, not for the usual reasons someone would have medication. But I’d forgotten about it until that day I came here. And it all made sense. I knew I should be” – he shook his head – “I don’t know, upset.”
Tina tensed, waited without breath.
“But I wasn’t because it was at that moment, I realised how much you love me. No greater sensation exists than knowing with absolute certainty that you love me and that you’d go to such lengths, and risk everything, to prove that.” He kissed her lips, lingering at her mouth for a long moment. “Just so you know, I love you that much too. More than I can ever show.”
A gentle flush of her cheeks. Her heart was blossoming with warmth. “I love you too.”
“I know. I know you do.” He pretended to zip his lips. “That’s why we won’t ever speak of what really happened again.” He reached for her hand and threaded his fingers with hers. “Come on, let’s give Sarah a run around her new yard.”
She smiled. “Yes, let’s.”
More from the author
Thanks for reading All That Was Left Unsaid.
I hope you enjoyed it.
If you’d like to know more about me, my books, or to connect with me online, you can visit my webpage www.jacquieunderdown.com
Reviews can help readers find books, and I am grateful for all honest reviews. Thank you for taking the time to let others know what you’ve read, and what you thought.
If you liked this book, here are my other books:
Women’s fiction/psychological thrillers
The Perfect Family
The Secrets Mothers Keep
Contemporary small-town romance
All That Was Left Unsaid Page 24
