It infuriates me that she doesn’t ask what might happen to Jenna now that Jeffrey will be in prison and Lavinia is gone. To be honest, I can’t bear the thought of someone else, a stranger, looking after Jenna. Anxiety closes up my throat when I think about it, but I’m powerless to do anything.
After the funeral, some tough decisions will have to be made concerning the little girl. Even though it’s the last thing I want to do, I might have to go see Jeffrey to talk about it. That’s if he agrees to see me.
The fact that he hasn’t called to ask about his daughter concerns me. I guess he has other more pressing things to think about, but Jenna is his child. He must have heard that his wife is dead, and Jenna is all alone without her parents. If he knows, why hasn’t he bothered to reach out?
My phone rings and my heart stutters at the sight of Alex’s name on the screen. I’m not sure whether what I feel is joy, fury, or dread. Maybe it’s a mix of all of them.
I press it to my ear and listen.
“Hi.” Even though we saw each other a couple of days ago, it feels like years since we’ve spoken. His voice is unfamiliar, stronger somehow, more confident.
He must be living the good life he always wanted. His mother is finally taking care of everything for him, and he never has to worry about money… or me.
“I’m sorry about Lavinia. It shocked me to hear about it. Sorry I didn’t call sooner. I lost my phone for a while.”
“Yeah.” I sit on the bed and hug my knees to my chest. Bending my head forward, I rest my forehead on top of my knees.
Hearing his voice feels like acid poured onto an open wound.
Over the last couple of days, I’ve rehearsed what I was going to say to him, but now that I have the chance to, my mind is blank. I don’t know how to talk to him anymore. He feels like a stranger to me. Maybe he has always been a stranger and I was too blind to see it. The man I knew and loved would never have done what he did to me.
“She really committed suicide?” he asks.
I didn’t tell him that. Maybe he spoke to Jeffrey, or he heard it on the news.
Two days ago, I switched on the TV and Lavinia’s suicide was all over the news. The interviewed locals suspected she knew about what her husband did and couldn’t live with the guilt.
Upon hearing that, I threw the remote across the room and haven’t turned on the TV since.
“That’s what they said,” I say. “Pills and alcohol were found in her system.”
“That’s terrible.” Alex sounds almost upset. His voice has a degree of warmth, but it sounds unnatural.
“The funeral is today,” I say.
“How are you coping?” he asks. “Are you okay?”
How dare he ask me that question? He doesn’t even care. If he cared how I must feel after losing my friend in such a tragic way, he would have picked up the phone. I don’t believe for a second that his phone was lost.
“I’m fine.” I feel myself tearing up. “I’ll be fine. Look, I have to go. I need to get ready for the funeral.”
“Oh, okay. I’ll talk to you soon.”
“Right.” I hang up. I don’t think we’ll speak to each other anytime soon. He must be as relieved as I am that the call ended. I shouldn’t have picked up. Hearing his voice has plunged me even deeper into despair. I’m about to return to the bathroom to refresh my makeup again when I notice the envelope Alex left with May at the ranch.
It had slipped my mind, but now I can’t fight the urge to open it.
I tear open the envelope, and after reading a few lines, my stomach drops.
Divorce papers.
No wonder he was trying to avoid me. He lied. He said he wanted space, but all along he was thinking about divorce.
He didn’t even have the guts to give me the papers himself. After all these years, after everything we’ve gone through together, this is how it ends?
I have the powerful urge to call him again, to tell him how hurt I feel and exactly what I think of him, but what does it matter? I’ll get nothing out of it. I might end up hurting myself more. I’m hurting enough already.
The reality is the coward wants out, and I cannot force him to stay.
