Page 61 of The Secret
“His wife was there,” I murmur, picking at the side of my nail.
“Hiswife?” His eyebrows shoot up.
“And his child.”
The word sticks in my throat like sandpaper, the girl’s blonde curls dancing in front of my face. So cute.
“God, Liss. He’smarried?” His nostrils flare.
“Yeah. I didn’t … I couldn’t … That was difficult to process. It was a shock.”
“I’ll bet it was.Jesus, Liss.”
“I think I was waiting until I could have a calm conversation about it,” I whisper.
Brian nods and leans back against his chair, still holding my hand in his. It’s strangely good, like a lifeforce is seeping from his big, rough hands into mine. Words start to tumble out.
“Of all the scenarios I considered when I couldn’t find him, I told myself finding him alive would be the best thing. And I had a complete failure of imagination because I never pictured a wife and a child. I mean that’s crazy, right? He was older than me, so why wouldn’t he be married by now? I’m stupid.”
“Jesus, Liss, you’re not stupid. I don’t think anyone would expect that. After all you told me, how he came to the US and what he said … I’m surprised.Reallysurprised. God, I should have said something before you went … what was I thinking? I’m an interfering old fool.”
I squeeze my fingers around Brian’s as if doing that will give me more strength to say what I need to say. To say the words out loud, to admit my darkest fears to someone else.
“The thing is … the little girl looked about four, maybe older?”
Brian frowns and a dull red starts at the base of his throat. “What?I don’t understand.” His brows crease further. “Are you thinking he had her before … before you and he …”
“I think? I mean …”
“Oh myGod!” Brian runs his free hand through his hair, jaw tightening as he stares out the window before his enraged eyes swing back to mine. “Jesus Christ, I shouldneverhave told him I’d seen you. I thought I was helping! I didn’t think he was a cheating asshole.Fuck!” He groans.
I shake my head. Somehow, I can’t reconcile the Dan I knew with the words “cheating asshole.” He’s achieved such a status in my head over the last three years with how lovely he was after all my man disasters, how smitten he seemed to be, and the fact he came after me. I can only erode my view of him bit by bit.
“Tell me what he said,” I say.
“He asked me what I was up to and if I knew what you were doing. Specifically, if I had a way of getting in touch with you.”
“Getting in touch with me?” I squeak.This was obvious from the start, you chump.“What did you say?”
“I wasn’t sure what to say. I’m so sorry, Liss.” He buries his head in his hands. “I said I could probably contact you.”
“Oh God.” I put my cup down too abruptly and coffee slops over the side. But this is at least partly my fault, I should have told him what happened as soon as I came back.
He mops at the coffee distractedly as I poke my stew. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbles.
“It’s fine, Brian. I mean, he saw me there. It was only a matter of time before he tried …” I swallow. “I guess I don’t really understand. Why would he want to see me? Does he want to explain? If he had a wife, why wouldn’t he just be embarrassed? Wouldn’t he want to avoid any sort of confrontation?” I chew my lip. “He cut off all communication, disappeared, and has never tried to reach out to me.” Who am I asking these questions of? Myself? I’m not sure I’ve got any answers.
Brian shakes his head and purses his lips.Always so patient.I study his kind face, the grooves worn by years of helping people.
“I don’t know what happened at the meeting …” I start and then it all streams out. Seeing Dan on the platform, him raising his hand, realizing his wife and child were standing there, and how I left. Sickness roils in my stomach again, along with a clawing sense of alarm, and it makes my mind up.
“I don’t want to see him.”
How could I see him, happy, with someone else? Not having the right to touch him, to be friends. Nausea fills my mouth. Another woman holding his hand … I slam the shutters down.
Brian stares off into the distance, then waves his hand. “Of course, of course you don’t. I’ll make up some excuse, some story.”
“I’m not sure I would deal well with seeing him face to face, have him tell me about his family. Ugh. I wouldn’t be able to be cool at all.”
