Page 62 of The Secret
Brian nods, opens his mouth, and closes it again, then says, “If Helen hadn’t died …”
He’s never talked in detail about his wife, and I stare at him. He coughs like he’s trying to build up courage. “If Helen hadn’t died, but had gone off with someone else …” He fiddles with his fork. “I understand, Liss. I’d murder him with my bare hands.”
I smile sadly at him.
“I still miss her every day.” His eyes glass over.
I put my hand over his on the table. “I’m sorry, Brian.” A simple sorry could never cover what happened to him. He shakes his head, eyes watery.
“I decided I needed to move on. There’s a lady here who I see sometimes …” He pauses as he chews his cheek. “For sex.” I gape at him. It seems like my torrent of detail and emotion has unleashed something in him, and my toes curl, heat climbing up my neck.
He drops his head, hands clasping the back of his neck. “It’s torture.”
“What?Why?”
“Every time we”—he coughs—“go to bed together I can’t get Helen out of my head; it’s like she’s all around me. I feel terrible. I’m forcing myself through something, and I wonder whether it’s just making it all worse.”
And oh my God, I understand this, so well. I forced myself through everything. He wipes his hands across his eyes, closes them, and tears leak out from under his lashes.Oh shit. This is so much bigger than any of my disasters.
I grip his hand tighter, and he squeezes back.
“Thank you, Liss. Jesus, I’m sorry. I don’t know where all this is coming from.”
“Perhaps you needed to talk.”
He nods. “You’re a good listener.”
“Glad I’m good at something.”
He half laughs at this, wiping his eyes again.
“You’re amazing at a lot of things, Liss.” He pauses. “I feel so guilty, like I’m using her,” he whispers.
“You could try talking to her?”
“Her English is not so hot.”
I nod—I appreciate what he’s saying. It’s not that kind of relationship.
He shakes himself and straightens.
“If I can do anything …” I say.
He offers a weak smile. “This has been very helpful.”
“Okay,” I say.
“I could say you’ve moved on from here?” Brian says, circling us back to Dan, and I blink at him. I’d almost forgotten my own problems in the depths of his.
“That sounds sensible.”
He inclines his head. “When you said you don’t understand … you’re right, none of it adds up. Why was he doing a PhD in Harare? Why would he come to see you in New York if he had a wife and kid in South Africa?”
“None of it makes any sense. The fact he disappeared makes no sense. Well, maybe it does make more sense now, seeing as he had a wife and child. I was a fling, and then he cut off all contact. But you’d think he’d be happy he dodged a bullet.” I roll my lips together. “But I am glad he’s alive. In my darkest moments I was convinced he’d been killed.” I sweep my hand around. “Like some random mugging. Or the fighting. It’s not like it’s uncommon.”
“Yeah.”
“I appreciate you doing all this,” I say.
