Un-Matched

Reid was exceptionally handsome. Tall, dark, and mysterious with the body of a god. I recall the day we met with perfect clarity. I can see the look he gave me from across the terminal. Those dark magical eyes undressing me. I didn’t mind. I wanted it, after all, it’s what I was doing to him. When he finally touched me, I felt a spark of magic that coursed through my body like fatal venom. I was his prey, rendered helpless for his consumption.

For our honeymoon, we spent two weeks in a bungalow in the South Pacific Ocean. The fragrant perfume of local flowers was almost as intoxicating at his kiss. I was a fool in love.

When I married Reid Huntsman, I was blatantly ignoring all my better judgement. Sometimes we do this to ourselves because our other feelings outweigh our instincts, or we dismiss our own intuition as paranoia. I might have even told myself out loud that I was ‘just being silly’. The worst part was that the feeling that something wasn’t right lingered, even in the throes of passion. I should have listened to myself.

“Something just isn’t right about him, Vanessa.” My sister Elaina also tried to warn, but her marriage to Todd Speltz wasn’t exactly a great success, his balding head and growing midsection were hardly anything to get excited about, so I just chalked it up to jealousy. She had always been jealous of me so I couldn't hear her.

It was 5:55pm on Thursday when I found out. Isn’t it weird how a person will remember the time they woke up in the middle of the night and the time it was when they received life altering intel?

“Mrs. Huntsman?” The man at the door asked as I cracked it open in response to his knock.

“Yes.” I confirmed.

“This is for you.” He said as he pushed a benign looking tan colored envelope into my hands, turning on his heels to depart swiftly. I took the package just like I had taken in all of the other packages that came that day. This one didn't have a label like the rest.

When I reached the kitchen counter I tore through the seal with a pair of scissors and reached inside for a tidy stack of documents.

Pictures and records spilled onto the butcher block island counter and the scene that unfolded before me was that of an unimaginable horror story.

“No.” I stated out loud to my kitchen plants, as if that would somehow wake me from what I was seeing.

The feeling you get when you first discover you’ve been betrayed is something I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy. As you find yourself confronted with the evidence, you battle with your emotional and physical reactions all at once. There are too many feelings make sense of them.

I became dizzier with each word I read, and the contents of my stomach became a hot heavy burden as I viewed the images. My face stung with panic as the disbelief flooded my system. But I also knew what I was seeing was real and true regardless of who delivered it and why, and that’s the part that hurt the most. You knew better Vanessa.

***

“Elaina? Can you come over please?” I ask over text. I can’t risk her hearing the panic and pain in my voice until she arrives. She pulls in 30 minutes later as I’m nervously pacing the floor between my formal dining and sitting rooms.

“What the hell is this?” Elaina says slamming the stack on the counter. “I mean what in the holy hell, Vanessa?!”

“I don’t know.” The truth is I don’t. The documents don’t paint a complete picture but what they allude to is a doozy.

“Who delivered these?” she asks and now I’m kicking myself for not having paid better attention to detail. I don’t normally make a point to notice the appearance of my delivery people. I’m an avid online shopper and that would be too much work. Maybe I’m too self-involved.

“A man.” Is all I can manage to say as I choke back my emotion. I don’t want to cry; I don’t want to give Elaina room to gloat, not that she would, but she could.

“What are we going to do?” She asks, her voice pleading like it did when she broke our dad’s TV with a nerf ball when she was 8.

“I don’t know.” I answer again. This time the pain and confusion are not the leading emotions in my voice. Anger and even rage have taken their place. How could he do this and why would he even bring me into the equation at all? I’m so mad I can’t think straight.

“Well, you can’t stay here with him. He’s a monster. If he did this to her, he’ll do it to you.”

Elaina is clearly choosing to focus on the file regarding the deceased woman. We are assuming he killed her, after all, why else would it be included? I realize it’s totally reasonable of her, but love isn’t always logical, so I’m currently more upset by screenshot of an Instagram post made by the woman who goes by @sugarbunz23. She is nearly nude and pressed against his body. The body he promised to love me with for the rest of his life. I don’t know how jealousy can overshadow a possible murder but for the moment it does.

I shuffle through the pictures and files again. There are at least a dozen different women. One of the blonde ones has a baby that looks like him. I place my hands in my hair and grab hold, hoping to allow more air into my lungs, it’s hard to breathe.

“What can I do?” I ask her, my voice pleading like hers had moments and all those years ago.

“What we’re going to do is leave. Right now. Get the papers, quick, c’mon. We need to go to the police.” she orders like she’s the big sister now.

But we can't and we both know it; besides, I want to know why. I know that if I leave, I will never have the answers so instead I take a breath and tell her what I’m thinking.

It’s 7:37 when Reid’s car arrives in the driveway. I imagine I will remember the time.

Dinner is on the table, and I’ve poured him a large glass of whisky.

“I made you steak.” I tell him. I cook him nice meals regularly. His work is hard and stressful, being a detective for the LAPD. This should seem like a normal day to him. The smell of food mixed with his betrayal makes me want to vomit.

“That’s sweet of you.” He says as he moves towards me for a kiss. I freeze in place. If I retreat from him, he will know something is wrong. I smile a tight-lipped smile, fighting the instinct to snarl or stab him in the neck with the steak knife I’m holding.

At the table I can barely manage a bite. The images from the package I received replay through my mind on a loop. I sit there and push the small amount of food around on my plate, but he doesn’t seem to notice or care.

He’s downed his drink like I knew he would, and I’ve poured him another. My hope is that he’ll drink himself to sleep and make this easy. But there’s one part of this that might be tricky and it’s the whole reason I’m still here; I want to ask him about everything before I go.

Three drinks and his dinner down and he’s sitting in his chair by the fireplace. I approach quietly and sit on the overstuffed white sofa. I’ve always loved this sofa, and the carefully selected accent pillows. I don’t mean to, but I let out a sigh.

“What’s the matter?” he asks sweetly with a slight slur to his speech. Normally his sweetness would melt me like a sugar cube in hot tea, but now it’s lost its magic and it tastes like aspartame.

“Reid, I need to ask you about something.”

“Oh yeah, well, shoot…”

Instead of speaking I hold up my phone to show him his picture with @sugarbunz23.

“This is you.” I tell him.

He swallows a large sip of his fourth beverage and seems to use the pause to consider his response. We only have a little time for me to get my answers now. I crushed some Ambien and dissolved it in this cup.

“No, it isn’t.” He finally tells me.

“What do you mean it isn’t?” It very clearly is. Don’t gaslight me.

He sits there for a moment and stares into the flames.

“I have a twin brother.”

That’s when I begin to laugh. It's such an asinine attempt.

“Do you think I’m an idiot?” I ask him and internally I think I might be, after all, I fell for this man that I clearly didn’t know. This man who, even in his drunken stupor is more beautiful than any person I have ever seen. I shake my head to break the trance that took me over in the first place.

“You know what?” I ask him as he takes another large swallow from his tainted beverage. “You’re going to go to sleep and when you wake up, I’ll be gone. But before I go, I need some answers, Reid.” He raises his eyebrows at me but nothing else moves. Time is running out. I pull open the file and hold the document about Rebecca Groves up in front of his face.

“You murdered her, Reid?” I ask him and wait for his response. Whether he means to do it or not, I don’t know, but he serves me with a slow nod, which I take to mean he is answering yes.

“Why?”

He just cuts his eyes at me. They don’t look like the chocolate pools of magic they once did. They’re blood shot and dangerous. His spell on me is over.

“Okay then. And this?” I ask holding up the picture of him with his child. “You had a kid with another woman, since we’ve been together Reid.” I tell him. These questions are rhetorical. He can’t likely answer me with his words and at this point I don’t need him to.

“Last one, Reid. I just want to know why? Why did you do this to me?” I ask. He moves his head involuntarily and then drops his chin to his chest and his drink falls to the floor, the glass shattering. I won’t ever know.

“Everything okay?” I hear Elaina asking from upstairs. She’s been waiting quietly in the guest room.

“Yeah, we’re ready.” I answer. It’s time to move.

We decided the police weren’t the solution because Reid is well connected, being one. I also can’t just leave and expect he won’t find me. My hand is being forced; I have no room for good decisions.

My bags are packed and Elaina carts them out through the garage into my car. I turn back for one last look at the house I had made into a beautiful home. I will miss it. But it’s for the best and it’s the only way.

It’s 10:20 now. Another time I will remember. Elaina has moved my car down the block and returned on foot. We both stand at the side of the house wearing black. There’s a chill in the air and in my heart.

I shiver and then I strike the match.