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The very next day, I discovered the letters. It happened when I was looking for Gary’s appointment book to see if he had noted down a doctor’s appointment. There they were, clipped together, staring at me from his desk drawer. The first one was postmarked just ten days ago from a city in Gary’s sales territory. “My darling Gary,” it began, “last night was heaven. I wish I could be holding you now. I miss you more than I know how to say . . .”
It was true. All the fears I’d had over the years were true. Gary didn’t love me. Without thinking, I called Gary on the phone and began screaming at him about the letters. I can’t even remember what he said because I began to feel so panicky. It was getting hard to breathe—so I hung up, threw on my coat, and drove the few blocks to my friend Maggie’s house, hoping she would be there. She was.
“I always knew I would find the evidence one day,” I began,
too upset to remember to say hello. “How could I have fooled myself
for so long? Lots of things are falling into place—the times when
he came home a day later than he planned, all his excuses, and the whiff
of another woman I sometimes thought came to bed with him. All that interest
in the way he dressed, the way his hair was cut. It was for other women,
not for me. What an idiot I am!”
I didn’t have it in me to stay angry for long. Soon I was blaming
myself. “What did I do wrong?” I cried to Maggie. “It
must be my fault. I know he’s a good man underneath it all. And
I need him. How can I live without him? I can’t. I know I can’t.
Oh God, I’d be better off dead.”
“Slow down,” Maggie urged. “Maybe this is a good thing;
maybe this is your opportunity to leave him. Every time we get together
you tell me how mean he is to you, Kate, and that he hits you. How long
are you going to put up with it? This isn’t good for you, or for
David. Please think about leaving him. We’ve known each other for
a long time, and I care about you a lot. It upsets me to see you so upset.
You deserve better!”
I knew Maggie didn’t like Gary. I had shared too many of my troubles
with her too often, so she didn’t know the good side of him. And
she had every right to be frustrated with me; even then I knew I was letting
Gary dominate me. I just didn’t know I could stop it. Seeing how
I turned my eyes away, she cried, “Listen to me, Kate! You’ve
got to get some help.”
It was as though I had cotton batting in my ears; I could barely hear what she said. That, in itself, scared me. So I threw on my coat and ran out the front door, explaining over my shoulder that I had to pull my thoughts together. My house was quiet when I returned; there was nothing to distract me, no one to ask me to stop and think. It wasn’t long before I put my toothbrush and some underwear into a bag, grabbed my checkbook, and took off again in the car.
Several miles from home I realized David would be getting out of school fairly soon, and there was no one there to welcome him. I didn’t turn around. “I’m not much of a mother anyway,” I heard myself say. “David will do better without me. Nobody really needs me. Mom will cry, but only for a little while. Gary won’t shed a tear, he’ll be too busy with his girlfriend.”
Suddenly I was at that underpass I knew so well, where the road narrowed and veered sharply to the left between stone pillars that supported the bridge above. Through my tears I saw the truck in front of me slow down. Its red brake lights went on. Realizing I was going too fast, I tried to slow down, but my foot seemed frozen. I couldn’t make it move toward the brake pedal. Then I felt the car swerve and heard myself scream as the world turned black.
Several days later I woke up in a hospital bed with a serious concussion, a fractured hip, and multiple contusions. Even though I hurt all over, I felt strangely relieved. The accident gave me the respite I needed. For now at least, I was the one who came first. And Gary was at my side, crying and apologetic.
“I swear the affair is over,” he offered, tears running down his cheeks. “I know I’ve lied to you and been unkind to you, but I really love you. I don’t understand what gets into me sometimes. I find myself doing things I really don’t want to do. I can’t help it. Please forgive me. I promise I’ll do better. I promise. Just get well.”
Gary was almost out of his mind with guilt. He kept saying the problem was his, that he couldn’t get his mind off other women. He confessed to believing he was fated to destroy any love that came his way. “I don’t want to hurt you, Kate, you know I don’t, but something grabs hold of me and I have no control over it. Maybe now, though, after this accident, things will change. I’ll make it up to you. Just wait and see.”
It didn’t matter what he said. Lying in that hospital bed, I wasn’t
sure I could believe him anyway. And besides, I wasn’t feeling much
of anything. Nor would I for quite a while. It took several months for
my body to heal, but even after that, I was stuck in the mechanics of
life. I shudder when I think about it. There was no zest to me, no spice.
And my mind was struck dumb. I just stopped thinking. I felt no resentment,
but I also had no desire to please Gary. Nothing held my attention—no
book, no conversation, no movie, nothing. Once home from the hospital,
I spent all my time flat in bed counting the cracks in the ceiling. Even
David, my little boy, seemed far away. I ate a little, slept a little,
and never cried. The letters had pushed me toward ending my life, and
in my own way, I did.
