Our Wicked Lies by Gledé Kabongo (story read aloud TXT) 📗

It took enormous restraint not to bash his head in with the picture frame. But she couldn’t do that to her mother’s photo. Lucky him.

“You’re such a weasel. Two freakin’ years, Eliot!” Alicia screamed at him.

He jerked back, startled.

“How many nights did you claim to be working late but was cooped up in your sordid love nest instead, huh? You sent her the itinerary for our Paris trip, our anniversary celebration. You made me look ridiculous in front of a woman who was trying to destroy me.”

“She had no right to ridicule you. She knew better. It’s obvious that jealousy got the better of her. I’m sorry.”

Anger blazed through her, a roaring beast seeking someone to devour. Yet somewhere in the back of her mind, a timid voice reminded her that she was talking about a dead woman.

Her bones ached at the thought. Grief shredded her insides. Unshed tears blurred her vision. She took a seat at the opposite end of the sofa, away from him. The sickening realization was that although she’d lost someone she’d once called a friend, she’d really lost Kat and her friendship two years ago. It was the most cherished friendship Alicia had ever had, outside of her relationship with her mother. The loss was a knife straight through her heart.

Long before she took her last breath, Kat had tossed Alicia aside. She’d perpetrated a cold-blooded deception by pretending to be the dutiful friend until, finally, she’d plunged the knife deep, violently twisting it with her malicious taunts and perverse sense of entitlement.

“No, Eliot. You’re sorry you got caught. Something tells me that if Kat were alive, you would have continued your affair. Don’t try to deny it. I’m tired of your lies. But tell me one last thing, Eliot. Why did I deserve your contempt? Why wasn’t I good enough?”

CHAPTER 42

Hurricane-force guilt pounded away at Eliot. He lowered his gaze, unable to meet hers. He swallowed repeatedly. He could do with a boatload of antacid right about now.

Alicia reminded him of a delicate, injured bird, broken by his actions, and the unexpected tragic death of a woman who had so savagely betrayed her. He had never counted the cost, naïve in his belief that Alicia was safe, that he could protect her from his affair. He never wanted to hurt her. To be honest, he thought he could have his cake and eat it, too. But now, he had to step up, contain the situation. Alicia must never uncover the whole truth. If she did, it would break her for good.

“Alicia, baby, how could you even think that? You, you’re my everything.”

“Don’t ‘baby’ me, Eliot. What you did went beyond disrespect. The both of you. The lying, the mockery, the deceit. That’s what you do to someone for whom you feel nothing but contempt. She called me ‘ghetto trash’, did you know that? If that’s not contempt, then what is?”

He stood up, walked past her, trudged to the fireplace and leaned up against the mantle for support.

“I was so stupid.” Her bottom lip trembled as she spoke. “I thought we were in a good place. Paris meant so much to me because you encouraged me to return to college to finish my degree when I doubted myself. We discussed our future. All the while… All the while, you were… I can’t even say it. Who are you, anymore? What kind of person have you become, Eliot?”

“I discussed our future because we have one together.”

She snorted. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he whispered. “Alicia, my love for you, what we mean to each other, was never in question.”

“And yet you carried on with her. Why? Because I bored you to tears and you craved excitement? She threw herself at you and you couldn’t resist her charms? Or maybe you acted on your attraction to her? Which one was it, Eliot?”

He understood her need for answers. But the simple reason was that he’d cheated because he could. He’d taken what Katalina enthusiastically offered without hesitation. He’d acted on his attraction and enjoyed the benefits of a no-strings-attached affair with someone he knew and liked. Because that was what his father had done.

His heart filled with self-loathing as he recalled the day when he was in his teens and had caught his father leaving a hotel with another woman. Later that night, his dad had called Eliot into his study and given him a lecture—his father’s way of making sure Eliot kept his mouth shut.

“Your mother is my queen,” his father had said. “Nothing and nobody is going to change that. Understood?”

There was no point in upsetting his mother by telling her what he had seen. His father had promised that he wasn’t going anywhere.

The statement had confused a young Eliot. It didn’t make sense. If his parents’ marriage was on solid footing, why was his father cheating? But the adult Eliot finally came around to understanding, and he’d become his father.

“I messed up, Alicia. Let me fix it. I’ll do anything.”

“Tell me how it started. And don’t hold anything back.”

Without hesitation, Eliot launched into the story. “It was the anniversary of Katalina’s brother’s death, two years ago. She was a wreck. She had no close friends besides you and me. I guess the pain of losing Arturo was still raw.” Inwardly, he winced. He burned with shame. He looked down at his trembling hands.

“Go on.”

He didn’t want to. But he owed her. “We had dinner at the Fairmont. Just to share a meal, talk, get her mind off things, distract her, really. But she had too much to drink.”

He placed his hands in his pockets. He wanted to sit, but her probing gaze deterred him.

“She couldn’t drive like that, so I offered to drive her home. She didn’t want to go home. She thought Richard would be ashamed of her for coming home drunk, and she couldn’t deal with his disappointment. She would rather sleep it off and go home