When the press is too much ...
A couple of days ago, you met Susannah Dawson who had just discovered on national TV that her husband had a girlfriend.
Fast forward a couple of scenes, and her husband, James, comes home ... Let's see what happens.
Part 1: The Devoted Wife - Betrayal
Susannah
She looked up at the sound of the door opening. Only the girls … and James … had the key. The girls were still away.
“Hello, Suzie,” the silver flecks in his dark hair shone in the afternoon light. His tanned face, broad smile. Gorgeous. Charismatic. Her friend, lover and husband. The lying, cheating bastard.
“Did you forget something?” Back to the kitchen, to find something fresh to stab. The best she could do was pull out a bag of potatoes to peel and chop.
“Suzie, I’m sorry you found out this way.”
“Really? Not ‘sorry that you cheated’ but sorry I found out in the most humiliating way possible?” Potato peelings flew over the kitchen in her reckless strokes. “Do you know where I was? At the gym. In front of dozens of women who I work with, sit on charity boards with. Dine with.”
He didn’t have the grace to look embarrassed or remorseful. “That would have been tough.”
She let him stew in his thoughts while she focused on the knife, and resisted the urge to see how far, fast and precise she could throw it. How could she still love the man who had done this to her?
In her mind, he walked behind her, gently placed the knife on the bench, turned her, kissed her and told her it had been a terrible mistake. He loved her, wanted her and they made love on the benchtop. Like they used to.
Instead, the tears and anger welled in her, waiting for the slightest sign of emotion within him to trigger an avalanche.
“Suzie, please,” the politician’s voice calming a crowd, “You know things haven’t been good between us for years.”
Too angry to speak, she placed the knife down, and moved it out of reach. Filling a glass with tap water, she took long sips, waiting for him to continue.
Clearly, he thought she agreed, “I want to say, ‘it just happened’ and ‘it didn’t mean anything’, but that would be a lie.”
This time as she took a sip, she bit down on the glass, almost hoping it would break off and she would have a visible sign to her pain.
For the longest moment, time stood still as she watching him try to find the words. The consummate politician standing in his own kitchen, unable to tell his wife how he felt without a script. Whatever he said, she wanted to accept his apology and find a way forward. She wanted to be able to love him tomorrow as much as she did last week, before she knew. All he had to do was to say the words …
“I love her.”
“Of course, you do,” the words were calm and deliberate, in contrast to her glass flying across the room. Glancing off his face before shattering on the floor, water pooling amid the shards of glass. She ran from the kitchen, locking herself into their bedroom.
“I don’t know why you are so angry – you had to know,” he called through the door. “How could you live with someone for months and not realize they were in love with someone else?”
She flung open the door, anger palpable. “You mean, before you stuck your cock in me for our weekly ‘lay there and take it but don’t let the kids hear’, I should have asked you where else you had been? What little, skanky whores you had been with?”
“You can’t talk about her like that – you don’t even know her.”
“Are you kidding me?” she screamed, “I bloody well hired her for you. That’s right, next time you screw her, remember that your wife picked out your slut for you. Do you want me to get you a red head next time?”
“Susannah, stop talking like that. It doesn’t become you.”
“Really? The day I find out my husband, the man I made into the fine, upstanding and RESPECTABLE politician he is today,” she took a breath, “You lost all right to tell me how to think, talk and act the day you stuck your tongue down that whore’s mouth on national TV.”
“I didn’t mean for you to see that,” for the first time there was the slightest hint of remorse. Almost as if she was watching the scene from another room, she knew what was coming. In ten, nine, eight …
“The party wants us to issue some statements,” and there it was.
“Of course, they do.”
“We have to say something.”
“You said, you love her, what else is there to say.” This time, she carefully closed the door on him. Sat down on her bed and cried.
James
That could have gone worse, he thought, rubbing the small scratch on his cheek. If only she showed that much passion in the bedroom, he might not have found it elsewhere.
Harsh.
Unfair.
He couldn’t remember the first time he had been unfaithful – probably on his first election campaign to deal with the nerves. That’s right, it was with a young volunteer who looked up at him with puppy dog eyes, admiration. He took her in the storeroom, went out and won his seat.
Over the years, he never forgot his family but … The excuse, no the truth was he never forgot his family but they were not always by his side. Long hours, days and weeks spent away from home in other electorates helping his colleagues, or attending the endless morning and afternoon teas put on by community organizations keen to hear from the Minister.
Lonely trips away from home. Still pumped from being “on show” for the electorate, he needed a way of relaxing so he could sleep and get back on the road for the next early start.
James wasn’t the first politician to find a cure for insomnia inside another woman. He wasn’t the first to even have an affair.
Until recently, he never thought about his wife. What she didn’t know would never hurt her because … he would never leave his family.
This time things were different. Lara was different. Intoxicatingly beautiful, smart and could do things to his body that he was sure must be illegal in some countries.
One look at her, and he felt king of the world. Not an ageing politician that the press had started to wonder in a progression of opinion pieces, if opportunity had passed him by.
Together, he and Lara could become a power couple – put him right back on top of the heap. After all, the camera loved her almost as much as he did.
Lara, beautiful and passionate. Only saw in him the man of his brochures and soundbites.
He heard the muffled sobs from the bedroom. Susannah, the woman who saw him as the flawed man, and loved him anyway.
Damn it. Nothing was supposed to turn out this way, he never wanted Susannah to be hurt. That’s why in spite of Lara wanting them to come out as a couple, he had tried to hide their affair. Many of his colleagues had “arrangements” in place where their wives either didn’t ask or didn’t care.
He cared about Susannah. Until now, never thought he would ever leave her.
He loved Lara. Couldn’t imagine a night now spent without her.
As he picked up the broken glass, carefully washing the floor to make sure Susannah didn’t cut her feet, he noticed the empty wine bottles in the recycling. His best Grange. They had been saving it for when Sofie finished high school and the end of school fees.
Then, he walked into the loungeroom and saw the memories over the floor. Damn, she was taking this hard. One by one, he picked up the DVDs and looked at them, remembering all the happy memories before quietly putting them away.
This townhouse was only a shell when they bought it, at his insistence. Far outside what he could have afforded on a politician’s salary, but Susannah surprised him by coming up with the cash difference. She apparently owed herself a salary from the little consultancy business she set up when Sofie started school.
In spite of the long hours being his wife and building her career, she still had time to make this house a home. Filling it with warmth and love for him to return home to after weeks away in sterile hotel rooms.
Lara had many skills, but he doubted “home maker” was one. Her unit had less furniture and personal touches than a three star room.
Before he left, he took a final look at the photo frame of his daughters and wife at last year’s ANZAC Day service. Casey had flown home to spend the week with the family and insisted on volunteering to chauffeur defence veterans to the ceremony. Not to be outdone, Gabby served tea and coffee to the elderly vets and their families so they could stay in their seats. Susannah and Sofie moved around the crowds, offering water on the unusually hot April day.
He took the photo at the end of the day when they were all exhausted yet on a high because of the people they had met and served.
His amazing family. When did he forget how much he loved them?
What the hell had he done?
Susannah
What the hell had he done! To her, to them, to their family, even to the party that he owed at least a moderate amount of loyalty.
She heard the door close, leaving her alone again. Free to wander around her home, surrounded by memories of the life they had built together. A life destroyed.
He loves another woman.
Making a travesty of every Christmas dinner, every wedding anniversary, of every time she stood beside him in support of his ambition.
Her husband, the man who lay next to her for more than half her life, now wanted to lie with another woman.
Shaking, she held an unopened bottle of wine. No one would blame her for wanting to drown out the pain. To hide in a blur of nothingness. To drink until she stopped feeling … anything.
Her phone kept ringing, the constant blinking of messages being left. Flicking through the call history, her parents, daughters, friends, Chris from James’ office, Carol from the party. No James.
Why would she expect him to call? Susannah trembled as she wanted to open the bottle. One glass, couldn’t hurt. James wouldn’t ring, would have no need to call her ever again.
He had fallen out of love with her, and into bed and into love with another woman.
Damn him, damn him to hell and back.
She carefully placed the still unopened bottle back in the rack. The situation wasn’t going to change, she needed to face facts and start to organize her future. Still holding her phone, she wanted a sign helping her to decide what to do and who to call.
Almost serendipitous, it rang. Carol. Taking a deep breath, she wordlessly took the call. “Susannah is this a good time?”
“Not really but go ahead.”
“There has been a meeting, of all the party executives.”
“Should I feel honored?” So hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice.
“James was there – have you spoken to him?”
“Carol,” her words were deliberately enunciated for effect, “Let’s pretend for a moment that James doesn’t tell me everything.”
“Oh,” she was starting to delight in the power of imposing silence on others – perhaps she should start this in the board room as well. She imagined Carol’s perfect nails tapping in frustration on a table. “The party feels … that with a strong united front … we can all work through this, together.”
“That might be a little difficult,” time to put all bitches in their place. “He loves her.”
Step one – ignore all calls from the party and James. They can build a strong relationship with her voice mail.
Step two – ignore the platitudes from her parents who want her to be the happy political wife and daughter they have been so very proud of. Really? Their daughter is embarrassed, humiliated on national television and they are thinking of how it makes them look?
Step three – girls are coming back home. Gabby has been working with Sofie and all schooling is on track. At least life, for them, can start returning to normal.
Her plan dealt with the practicalities and logistics, but nothing to do with her. She still had no idea about tomorrow, let alone her future.
She was grateful to the minor crisis that erupted across her companies during her absence. Unfortunately, being too good at her job, it only took a day to sort things out.
James sent his assistant to pick up some clothes. Unfortunately, most of his pants were now missing the zippers and his shirts their buttons. If he couldn’t keep them zipped and done up, then …
Lawyers had begun circling, offering their services. Susannah knew she needed to make a decision quickly – if she did want to press for divorce, then she needed to talk to the best before they talked to James.
The press kept hounding her. Now she was getting personal calls from the leading female journalists, inviting her on their show to talk about the tough life of a political wife. Ignored, they then started harassing her staff for a statement. So far, she had refused to endorse anything submitted by James’ office or the party. She wanted time, why the hell couldn’t everyone give her time.
James had known he was “in love” since his affair began. His office knew about it since they started covering it up – and who cares how long the party had known. She was the last one to find out. She damn well deserved a little time to get her head around everything.
Of all the texts and messages, one stood out. From an old family and political friend, Lloyd MacMillan. “With a grace and beauty, deeper than oceans, you will overcome.” An hour later, a bunch of white lilys arrived at her doorstep with a simple message, “Tomorrow starts today.”
She wanted to call and thank him, but what to say? That his lack of pity caused more tears than the vicious comments online? That his words gave her the courage to face another minute and another day?
That of all their couple friends, he alone had reached out to her in a personal way – making her feel less alone.
“Lloyd, it’s Susannah,” luckily her call went through to voicemail. “I can’t thank you enough for your message and flowers, they were …” her voice trailed off, “so special and thoughtful.” She took a breath before continuing in a false stronger voice, “I understand you will be joining the Softli board as a major shareholder. You probably know that I’ve been on the board for a number of years and know Mason quite well. We should have lunch, or something and chat before then.”
Empty house, cleared diary and no crisis to manage other than her own life. She opened another bottle from James’ prized wine collection.
Lloyd
Still parked down from her townhouse in his car instead of his usual limousine, he watched the flowers arrive. An arrangement that filled the driver’s arms without being too ostentatious. Exactly how he had ordered them. What he would do to have the courage to deliver them himself. Even though it wasn’t appropriate. Not yet.
The media still surrounded her townhouse like the hungry vultures they were. Again, he wanted to send in his security and lawyers to remove them from her pain. Allow her to be free to open her blinds, to go for a walk.
Instead, he watched the timid, lonely man in his rear vision mirror sit back and continue waiting. A commanding presence in the board rooms of the companies he founded, a firm father and doting grandfather, he was a marshmallow when it came to this one woman.
Within minutes of the flowers arriving, his phone rang. Her.
He waited for the call to go through to his voicemail, not knowing why after all these years of friendship, he was nervous about taking her call. Perhaps he wanted to savor the sound of her voice, or rather not hear polite gratitude.
In his world, Susannah would be free to do anything she wanted to do. It pained him to know she would be alone and suffering, yet she had reached out in response to his flowers.
Lloyd pulled away from the kerb, slowly driving past her home, making note of all the cars that didn’t belong. He would make a couple of discrete calls to their employers and strongly suggest they go after the politician and his girlfriend, leaving the wife alone. Not much, but it was the least he could do. In return, he would increase his forthcoming advertising campaigns to any media outlet who respected Susannah’s privacy.
His parking space awaited at the base of his personal elevator in the building that bore his name. The glass mirror walls revealed a man ready for the hunt. The years since he lost his wife had been long and lonely, but he tried to keep himself fit for the sake of their family. In recent years, he needed to prove himself on the tennis court and golf course against his younger executive, all keen for him to make a wrong move and be forced to retire gracefully.
Not bloody likely! Technology allowed him to lead his companies from all over the world. He had no intention of sitting back at home alone. Nor was he willing to settle for any of the gold digging women who had tried their luck with him.
He loved, cherished and worshipped his wife until she took her final breath.
Over the years, he convinced himself that only a woman with similar qualities would ever take her place. Qualities he only saw in one other person, Susannah Dawson.
In the quiet of his office, Lloyd listened to her message. His eyes closed as he imagined her face, contorted with the pain of her husband’s betrayal as she had dialed his number.
Sipping a cup of sweet, black tea, Lloyd replayed her message over and over again. Each time listening to her fragility and strength. Characteristics he had long admired in her.
How did he not know she was on the board at Softli? He had met Mason Winters at a golf day, been impressed, looked up his company and invested strongly when it was listed. Since the new CEO had taken over, there were unhappy customers and key staff leaving – Lloyd demanded a seat on the board so he could get a firmer hand on his investment. Never realizing it would bring him closer into her orbit.
Good.
He listened to the message once more.
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