Page 48 of Two Wrongs
‘Mr. McKenzie,’ I cut in. ‘When you said thedefenderhad agreed to the terms of our divorce—’
‘This is what I’m trying to explain. Mr. Duffy has made an admission to adultery.’ He taps the papers in front of him. ‘But under Scottish law, more evidence is needed beyond an acknowledgment. For instance, the co-respondent should be named.’
‘What co-respondent? I think you’ve got it wrong.’
‘I assure you I have not.’ He isn’t offended; in fact, his tone is almost wry. ‘But there are several things wrong with this paperwork, I’m afraid. I—’
‘You mean, in those papers, my husband has admitted to... an infidelity?’
‘But the admission in itself isn’t enough. Also—’
‘He doesn’t sayIwas unfaithful?’
Frustrated now, and with reason, he flicks a sheet of paper over on the desk. My gaze dips briefly, following his. ‘Here.’ His index finger taps the letterheaded document in front of him. ‘Here, you can see—’
‘But he wasn’t,’ I reply, adamant.
‘He wasn’t what?’ Frustration leaks from his tone.
‘He wasn’t unfaithful.’ I’m aware of my shoulders creeping closer to my ears, and my voice, when I speak again, is small. ‘I—I cheated on him.’ At least, that’s what I’d said in the original paperwork. It seemed easier to leave it that way, especially when I’d found the crumpled copy signed next to my underwear. My hands go instinctively to the chain I’m no longer wearing.And my wedding ring.
McKenzie’s brow puckers as he looks down again, alternatively grasping then releasing his pen. ‘A petition for the dissolution of marriage can’t be sought by the pursuer for the reason of adultery if it is indeed the pursuer who committed the act of... adultery.’ My heart sinks like a rock through my chest. It’s all been for nothing—the lies. I’ll have to start the process again. Oh, God. I can’t see him—can’t face him. I can’t tell him! ‘And I hasten to add; this is not what he agreed.’
My head snaps up from my lap. ‘Your uncle? Yes, because—’
‘We received a sworn affidavit in this morning’s post. It was from your husband or, rather, his legal representative.’
‘I don’t understand. Sworn to what?’
‘To his infidelity. Unfortunately, there is no correspondent named, though the instances and dates are in their nature, multiple, and are enough for the Sheriff’s Court.’
At the moment before he slides the paper away, I glance down and notice a list of dates and places and what they stand for— admissions of his adultery. And there, at the top of the list, is the date I’d used myself. The date I’d sworn, at least, on paper, that I’d committed adultery when, in fact, I’d gone home drunk with another man.A gay man.The same date we’d fought, and he’d stormed out. The date he returned to our home with lipstick on the zipper of his jeans. Strange to think so much had changed in a twenty-four-hour period.
If my heart dropped like a rock at his admission of guilt, the date of the dissolution of our marriage turns it to stone.
‘That first date,’ I ask. ‘What does it say?’ He looks confused, so I elaborate.
He glances down at the open file. ‘At the Vision Gentleman’s Club.’
Where no gentlemen are ever found.
‘Does it say anything else?’
‘Nothing I feel you should concern yourself with.’
‘Was it the first time or had he’d been fucking around our whole marriage?’ The question is in the air before I realise it. I’m not asking him—I’m questioning myself. Because this? Seeing it in black and white? It’s torture.
‘Well, thereisa list, so I suppose you can assume... ’ His words trail off. He isn’t a counsellor but a bloody solicitor.
The bottom line? I lied, and he wasn’t unfaithful until he thought I was. He’s taken the blame, at least on paper, but this doesn’t mean it’s not my fault.
That he’s taken to whoring his way through Hollywood? That’s on me.
‘Is there any other way I can do this—get divorced?’
‘Without this admission?’ he asks, clearly at a loss.
Jesus Christ, I’m not fit to raise a child. I can barely manage my own life—I can’t even get divorced right.
