Happily Ever After

When it happened, I questioned if we'd ever get married. Our lives were already a struggle. Mixed families aren't easy. And when I found the envelope tucked away in his truck's center console. I felt my whole world blow up in an instant.

I'm living in Will's house. The house he picked out with his ex-wife and now promising that he loves me, I just found the proof that he's bought another one for her. I could kill him. My kids are here. I uprooted their lives and moved them from our house to live here. Our house that I can't move us back into because it has renters living in it. How could he do this to me?

There are moments of truth. Days when everything changes. Driving Will's truck home from filling it with gas because after our first marriages, after our exes lied to us, deceived us, and, in Will's case, emptied his bank account a few times, we decided to keep our finances separate. Which is how I ended up with the expense of gas and groceries when we split the bills.

But that’s not the point. The point is a copy of a check to Coldwell Banker for 500 dollars. An earnest deposit. Are you freaking kidding me? I’m the one who's good to him. I'm the one who showed him what love was supposed to be. And on top of all that, I carried his baby. I literally grew his kid inside me, and what does he do… He buys his lying cheating, doesn’t care about him at all ex a house.

We were having a nice day before I left. Planning a cruise together for the summer, but now I’m so mad I could tear his balls off. I don’t remember half the turns I’ve made driving to "our" house. I won't call it home. Right now, it doesn't feel like home at all. Turning on Emmitt blocks from where he is, the air turns electric. Because the envelope in my hand has made this day into one of those change-everything ones. Hope you're ready, Will.

When I get out of the truck, I’m Furiosa from Mad Max, mad. But, I’m also a mom, so first, I tell my two girls. Who Will’s promised to love as his own to watch a movie with the sound way up while I go upstairs and talk to their future step-father and maybe turn him to stone if I can manage to summon Medusa. Then I make sure our little bundle is still sleeping. I don’t have to worry about my future stepson. He’ll be at football for another hour.

Each step I take up the stairs opens another floodgate that’s no longer holding back memories. From our friendship when we worked together before, my ex made me quit as a last-ditch effort to save our marriage. Because if I switched jobs, he was sure he wouldn’t think I was sleeping around anymore. Which did not work because months later, I came home to him asking how many blowjobs I had given in the bathroom that day. It was zero but I told him thirty-five.

To the text message I sent after I filed for divorce, asking Will if he was going to Morgantown today. To the crazy whirlwind that ended with us in love, me pregnant, and our kids living in the same house.

At the top of the stairs, my feet stop working. Will is just steps ahead of me, listening to Boston’s More Than a Feeling on one of his three stereos. But I can’t move a muscle. Because once I do, once I ask what I’m here to ask, I might lose the kind of love I thought I’d never have.

Our love was supposed to be perfect. It was supposed to be our happily ever after. And, until an hour ago when I found the envelope it was. I’ve never had a doubt about Will. From the first moment, he kissed me. The first time, I felt a jolt of electricity shoot through my body from his touch. I knew I wanted to love Will Thomas for the rest of my life. Now, though. Now I have doubts. Big, tall as mountains doubts.

Will looks at me as I walk through the door, and my throat closes around a spike. My breath chokes on the air. Somehow, past the spike, the question that's been on my mind since I found the envelope spills out.

"Why do you have a copy of a check to Coldwell Banker in your truck?" He doesn't answer, and I know.

"Did you buy her a house?" A tear pushes out and falls down my cheek. Will doesn't say anything. He just looks at me. In the silence stretching between us, I can feel my heart cracking, getting ready to break.

"Did you?" I demand. He stares at the floor before saying.

"I'm sorry."

"Why?" The question rushes out, and with it, the first piece of my shattering heart falls off. Will stands up from our bed and crosses his arms.

"I didn't want her to be homeless." It's done before I think about it. The envelope leaves my hand, flying through the air and landing at his feet. My tears turn to red-hot rage.

"You did this without telling me. You hid it from me. You met with her. How many houses did you look at together?" My voice is nearly a shout when I finish.

"It was only once. I looked at houses online before I found one. Then I met with her and the agent once to make sure she was okay with it."

"All behind my back." I shake my head. "That's money you took from our kids." Will looks at the floor again.

"I agreed to it before we got serious. The money came from my retirement. It will be repaid out of my check. It won't affect our kids.”

“It will.”

“I promised her when the alimony ended, I would buy her a house. That was before I asked you to move in. She's my son’s mother I didn’t want her to be homeless." He didn't want her to be homeless. Standing here looking at him now, I know this will never end. I will always be dealing with him, running to her whenever she needs something.

"It wasn't in your divorce agreement, just like the phone you're still paying for.” My hands shake as I say. “You're always going to put her first. You love her. You don’t love me."

"I don't love her. I love you."

"You mean you loved me when you pulled a U-turn in the middle of downtown and started racing through the streets with me in the front seat and your newborn daughter in the back to go and save her because she thought her mean boyfriend was stalking her." Will looks at the floor again, and I want to smack him. I want to scream love me, not her.

“How much did it cost?”

“Twenty-thousand.” He says, then asks in a quiet, barely audible voice. "Are you going to leave?" I think about what my answer will be. I think about the twenty thousand.

"I can't trust you. Every time I do, you do something like this."

"I won't."

"You bought her a house, Will." His head goes lower toward the floor. "You bought it behind my back."

"I didn't want her to be homeless." I don't say anything. He offers another, “I'm sorry.” And part of me scoffs.

"Why did you do it behind my back?" He looks up at me then.

"Because I'm an idiot."

"No, you’re not. You knew I wouldn't let you. You didn't want me to stop you." His eyes go back to the floor. His voice breaks a little as he repeats.

"I'm sorry." I look at him, this man I love. A tear bubbles over and traces the path of the ones that have already fallen. His eyes are wet, too.

"You just broke my heart," I say. He opens his arms and takes a step toward me. I tell myself to walk away, but I stay. His arms are a comfort as they wrap around me. His chest is solid as I wet his shirt with my tears. I love him. As much as this hurts, I don't think that will ever change.

That was six years ago. In the days that followed. I thought about what I would do if I left. The hurt seemed to grow and ebb like an Angel's trumpet blooming and wilting. I never thought he was sleeping with her. Will's not the cheating type. Besides, we spent all our time together. I have access to his phone. I would have known.

In the end, I knew his heart was in the right place. He wanted to help her. Looking back at the decision I made that day. To trust he loved me. To believe he wouldn't keep anything like this from me again. Was a decision I've never regretted. Because Will is the love of my life, and we are our happily ever after.

Sitting alone in the dark. My eyes travel to the house down the street. A man sits on the porch smoking some form of drug from a glass pipe. His lighter sparks to life before dying out again. Another man holding a beer steps from the front door wearing only his boxers. Behind him, wrapped in a blanket that I assume covers her naked body, is my ex-wife.

Part of me misses the honesty of her deception. Through all her denials. All the times she told me she was somewhere other than where she was. I knew in the back of my mind she was lying. Pulling away from the curb, I think of the day six years ago when Kate found the envelope.

The next afternoon, the hot summer air outside the courthouse stings against my red, swollen eyes as I make my way down the concrete steps of the back entrance in a desperate attempt to avoid the press. Kate's testimony she just gave rings on an endless loop in my ears. Each word of it slicing deep cuts into my already shredded heart.

Just before I can open the door to my truck, I hear the sound I've been dreading. A reporter calling out another of their endless questions.

"Did you know Kate was having an affair, Mr. Thomas?" I ignore the words and close the door. My hands go to the steering wheel, and for a moment, I can't move. On the other side of the window, the reporter calls another question.

"Is it true Kate killed Micheal and his wife to keep them from telling you about the affair?" Turning the key in the ignition, autopsy photos of Kate's lover and his wife flood my mind. I know I'm going to be sick. Opening the door, I turn and throw up all over the reporter's legs. I hear his gasps as I finish. Wiping my mouth I look up into his shocked face before I close the door and drive away.

Stepping into the house, I rush to the remote. Racing to turn the TV off before the reporter on the screen can say one more word about Kate. Four pairs of wet eyes look up at me.

"Don't watch that stuff," I say before I hold my arms out, and they all come to me. My two step-daughters whose father doesn't want anything to do with them after what their mother has done. My son, who has lost his second mother. And, my little girl, who is too young to know why mommy isn't here anymore.

The night air is refreshing in my lungs as I take in my first breaths of freedom. Will's going to be so excited. I know he moved and didn't send me our new address. But that was just to get away from the press. Of course, he's going to be excited. I'm his wife. Hello, the woman of his dreams here. Who happens to be on her way to take care of him. That's right, Will's getting lucky when I see him. I'm talking up against the wall, lucky.

First things first. I need new clothes. I'm traveling incognito, and blood stains on a prison jumpsuit kind of sticks out. That's okay. There are houses not far away. I can already see the tops of their roofs. I should be able to find something in one of them. Hopefully, nobody inside wakes up. I might have to kill again if they do, but details. I'm going to see my man.

I hope Will doesn't mind we'll probably have to go on the run for a while. The press is going to go wild when they find the body of old Warden Smith where I left him in his office. Note, ladies, if you're going to seduce a man to get ahead, go for the top. And gentlemen, if a convicted murderer seduces you, don't leave heavy objects like a bust of President Lincoln on you're desk where it can easily be grabbed and used to bash your head in. I mean, a little precaution goes a long way.

I don't think the kids will mind traveling. We'll all be a family again. A family on a big adventure. What kid wouldn't love that? A modern-day Swiss Family Robinson. Will does have some explaining to do before we go. Before we get back to our happily ever after. I think an apology is in order. I do understand somebody had to stay out to take care of our four wonderful children. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt that he didn't tell the courts killing Michael and Joanne was his idea. Not to mention he made most of the knife wounds. I did help a little. Hey, it was fun. Who doesn't love a little stabby, stabby?

But I'm not going to let that get me down. The most important thing is we get back to our happily ever after.

Our happily ever after. I can't believe I get to say that again.