What would you do?
A friend of mine called this an 'angry romance'.
I guess, it is. How could it not be? A loving wife, dedicated mother and successful business woman in her own right, Susannah Dawson finds out that her politician husband has cheated on her. Not only that, she finds out ...
You know? The only way I can truly show you is by giving you a sneak peak. That's right. Here is the first scene.
Then I ask you ... how would you have reacted?
Part 1: The Devoted Wife - Discovery
Susannah
Wanting to scream, cry and smash down walls, instead Susannah Dawson slammed the front door behind her and ran into the kitchen of her Sydney townhouse. Her daughters slept through the opening and closing of cupboard doors as she wanted and then didn’t want a glass of water, coffee, tea, slice of toast or cereal.
Shutting the last door firmly with the palm of her hand, she slumped against the cupboard. Nothing would help. It could only buy her time to collect her thoughts.
Not peace. Especially not turning back time before she found out. Cross that when the world found out.
She checked her phone messages – the very least he could have done was to give her a heads up. A call, a text. After over twenty years of marriage, he owed her that much, to be the one to tell her.
Lying, cheating, son of a bitch of a husband.
To the rest of the world, he was the highly moral politician espousing family values. Always willing to have the press take happy snaps of him with the loving wife and adoring daughters by his side.
Now, thanks to the same press that crowned them the political power couple, she … words failed her.
Only an hour ago, she left home for her normal gym work out. Joining a dozen other women who she would come across in board rooms and across the negotiating table for business deals. Women who needed to work hard to fit into the designer gowns at the events their careers demanded they attend. Successful business women crawling out of bed early to get a head start on their day. Treadmill and weights while watching two different breakfast news shows. Both sides of the political and business debate covered. A silent comradery as they turned up at the same gym, day after day to fight the onslaught of stress and age.
All fun and games.
Except today.
Her cheating husband and his girlfriend were the news. As soon as the vision appeared in stereo across both TV sets, she could feel all eyes divert away from her. Embarrassed, not wanting to get involved.
In different ways, their lives were bound together and not one of these fine, upstanding women would show her an ounce of support until they had time to consider what this footage meant to them. To their businesses and careers. To their husbands and lovers.
Susannah didn’t remember wiping down the machine. Couldn’t face showering with the risk she would overhear gossip about her, about him. About anything that wasn’t anyone else’s damn business. After grabbing her bag, she tried not to run to her car, fumbling to find the keys. Of course, today of all days they had fallen to the bottom of her bag and hiding within the lining. Not her day to shine.
Minutes felt like hours before she could get in her car and escape.
Home.
To her innocent, sleeping daughters.
To an empty bed, where her husband should have been sleeping. Except he rang last night to say he had flown to Brisbane for a party emergency.
Clearly, a party. A party for two. Captured on social media by some tourist who saw them at a restaurant, followed them and then sold the vision to the highest bidders.
Damn him.
Damn her.
Still her phone lay silent on the bench. Did he even realize what he had done? Surely, by now his office had been in contact with him – looking for damage control, preparing statements for them both.
Did his staff know? Susannah had hired most of them, rotated them through her corporate offices to make sure they had well rounded resumes. In less than two years working for her, each would meet all the important executives across business and government. Setting up connections for the rest of their career.
They owed her.
No. They worked for him and were now paid by the party.
Lying, cheating, stupid dumb bastard, her heart raced. If he was going to stick himself into some employee, why couldn’t he at least be smart enough not to get caught.
Or faithful and loving enough not to do it in the first place. Honor and trust. He built election campaigns on his promises. Just not to her.
Still too shocked and angry to cry. Wanting to crawl into bed along side one of her daughters, wishing they were little instead of the young women who wouldn’t understand a mother’s need to be needed.
Forcing deep, calming breaths she didn’t feel, Susannah turned on the TV to continue watching the breakfast news. Far better to find out what the press knew before having to face the day, and everyone.
“So, Bill, don’t our politicians deserve a night off and their privacy?” No woman should look that glamorous at six am, Susannah begrudged the announcer her youth and looks while she watched, still in her sweaty work out gear. Feeling every decade of her age she normally wore with pride.
“Danielle, you know I want to agree with you. After all, we all know what happens on tour stays on tour.” Why did presenters come in happy couples? Susannah heard there needed to be chemistry, so viewers accepted them as a “TV mum and dad.”
“Or what happens on the campaign trail stays …” giggled the blonde at her own joke.
“Here we have a senior member of parliament, well known for his strong Christian views, family values now showing how willing his to share those ‘values’ with his staff.”
“Are you saying if he was single, we wouldn’t care?”
“I’m saying that voters hate hypocrisy and if someone chooses to preach a higher moral standing than they are shown to live, then voters – we have a problem.”
“What about his wife,” Susannah shuddered as an old photo of her appeared on the screen. Used in context, it was at the end of a long campaign and captured her petite frame curled up on a couch with James next to her holding her hand. A strong and united couple. Exhausted and happy. Cropped for the segment, it made her look tired, old and wistful.
“I’d say her credibility has been damaged almost as much as her husband’s. Susannah Dawson is on the board of directors for Australia’s most recognized charities and companies. How long has she known?”
“Bill, what if she didn’t know! What if, right now, she is waking up to the same news as everyone else.”
“Then, Danielle, if she can’t recognize the signs of a cheating husband, how can her shareholders trust her judgement in the board room?”
A small cry came behind her, and Susannah turned to see her 21-year old daughter, Gabriella stare, open-mouthed at the TV. She quickly turned it off and tried to hug her daughter before Gabby pushed her aside to run to her room.
“Gabby, please, let me in,” Susannah knocked softly on the door, needing it to open but not wanting to wake the sleeping Sofie down the hall.
“No!”
“Sweetheart, let me in. Please, I need you.” Susannah kept up a soft tapping until the door opened. The younger brunette allowed her mother to hold her while the sobs came. Damn him – did he have to hurt the girls, too?
“What did daddy do?” through her sobs.
“I think the question is, ‘who did he do’?” A feeble attempt at humor through her own bitterness. Instantly she checked herself. No matter what he had done, James remained their father and the only father they would have.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“What are you going to do?” A pleading face, looking to her for answers and reassurance she couldn’t give. Not yet.
“I don’t know, I don’t know.”
“What did daddy say?”
“Nothing, I don’t even know if he has stopped bonking her long enough to realize his secret isn’t safe anymore.” Uncalled for and completely against how she knew she should talk about the father of her children. But damn him – he couldn’t even be bothered to give her a heads up. How was she supposed to cover for him, if he didn’t even have the decency to call.
“Mummy,” Gabby had been a daddy’s girl since before she could walk. Their relationship as mother and daughter always more fraught and “mummy” gave way to “mother” in primary school.
“What, sweetheart,” her chest almost broke with the strength of her daughter’s hug.
“I love you, mummy. Whatever daddy did or wants to do, we love you. We’ll be okay whatever you decide.”
Oh, blessed. Her daughter still thought it would be hers to decide.
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