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“On the Monday before that Tuesday, Matt came over to see Noah in the late afternoon to review his portfolio with him. Except Noah wasn’t home yet from his office. He’d gotten caught in traffic. With Noah an hour away, I offered Matt a drink. It was the least I could do.
“He wanted a Campari and soda and followed me to the kitchen. While I was fixing the drink at the counter, we made small talk and then he slid up behind me. He blew on my neck. Then pressed his body against mine. It was making me very uncomfortable and I told him he should go back to the living room.”
I shifted in my seat, fearful of where this story was going. I took a long sip of my Kir as Alexa persevered.
“He told me I was beautiful and wanted to know if I knew what I did to him. Before I could utter a word, he twisted my arm behind my back and placed my hand on his erection. And held it there. Pinning me against the counter, he put his other hand between my thighs. And began to rub me. I told him to stop, but he didn’t. Then he flipped me around and kissed me as I tried to fight him off. I kept begging him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He fondled my breasts, and wouldn’t let go of my crotch. Then, he pulled down his fly. I heard the hiss of the zipper, but I was too afraid, too repulsed to look down. I begged him again to stop, but he didn’t. To my utter horror, his hand slid down beneath the waistband of my jeans and into my panties. I was about to scream when I heard Noah’s car pull into the driveway. Matt jumped off me and cursed under his breath. In a panic, he pulled up his fly as I fled.”
She paused, tears falling from her eyes, causing her mascara to run. Inky rivulets streaked down her cheeks. I should have reached across the table to wipe them away with my cocktail napkin, but I was too stunned. Too frozen with shock. She wiped them away herself.
“When Noah met us in the kitchen, Matt acted like nothing had happened. Shaken, I played along, but I’d never felt so violated in my entire life.”
She inhaled through her nose, then expelled a loud breath.
“Not a day goes by without me thinking about what happened. Questioning my actions. My failure to say something.” She paused again and held me in her watery gaze. “Natalie, can you ever forgive me?”
My heart, which had been consumed by hatred for this woman, did a flip-flop as her story unfolded. It released my deep-seated malice and swelled with compassion. I cupped a hand over hers. It was icy cold. She was telling the truth.
“Alexa, there’s nothing to forgive. But why didn’t you tell me this before?”
She sniffled. “I wanted to. I meant to. And then Anabel…and then you fell sick. I was at her memorial service. I sat in the back. I bawled my eyes out.”
“Thank you for coming.”
Hundreds turned out for the memorial (minus Matt’s parents, who were away on a South Seas cruise and unable to make it back in time). The chapel was filled with all her high school friends, their parents, as well as teachers going all the way back to preschool. Additionally, numerous friends of ours, even those we’d not seen for years, came to pay their respects, along with community and business leaders we worked with. There were countless eulogies, but neither Matt nor I had the physical or emotional wherewithal to give one.
We looked terrible. I was lucky a black lace veil obscured the purple bruise on my cheek, my swollen, red-rimmed eyes, and missing tooth. Matt applied cover-up to his facial scratches and a couple of Band-Aids and told anyone who inquired about them that he’d sustained them while trying to rescue a frightened stray cat. Even the police who came to our house to inquire about Anabel’s death believed that story as well as mine—that I’d bumped into a tree while gardening. And our mutually agreed-upon story—that our flu-stricken daughter must have fainted and fallen down the stairs. The once perfect couple had invented the perfect set of lies. To our relief, neither Paige nor Will refuted them.
I was glad I hadn’t noticed Alexa at the service as God only knows how I would have reacted. At the burial, attended by only Matt, Paige, Will, and myself, I collapsed as Anabel’s casket was lowered into the ground. The pain so great I couldn’t bear it. My doctor later told me I had a psychotic break. I was in bed for over six months in a delirious state with round-the-clock nurses who fed and bathed me. Ironically, the only food they could get down my throat was baby food. As if eating baby food would bring back my baby. My Anabel. A frightened Paige and Will came to my bedside to say goodnight to me daily, but I hardly saw Matt, who I believed was sleeping on one of the sofas downstairs. I didn’t know. I didn’t care. He was the last person on earth I wanted to share a bed with. The last person I ever wanted to see.
My children were my elixir. Like a magician pulling a rabbit out from a hat, I found the strength to resume my life. To be a mother for their sakes. It required lots of physical therapy and counseling, including couples sessions with Matt. Ultimately, with the help of Xanax, I was able to forgive and trust Matt and let go of my grief though the deep scar wedged in my heart would never disappear.
Alexa bowed her head and when she lifted it, a mixture of remorse and shame clouded her eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you my condolences.”
I’m so sorry for your loss. How many times had I heard those meaningless words? How would they have sounded coming from the woman I thought was responsible for my daughter’s death? I shook off a shudder.
“I understand. You couldn’t.” The guilt and pain she’d harbored over the past two years redeemed her. I squeezed her cold hand. Her eyes burned into mine.
“Nat…”
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something else.” A flicker of hesitation in her voice, she chewed the inside of her lip.
Not a muscle in my face moved. I was ready to end this conversation, unsure if I wanted to hear more.
“What?”
“You promise you won’t be mad at me?” She sounded like a little girl who’d stolen her best friend’s cookie and was about to confess. Her face paled. A muscle in her jaw twitched. I’d never seen her this anxious before.
“Promise.” I instantly regretted agreeing and felt a prickle of apprehension.
She swallowed. Blinked. Then took a deep, shuddering breath.
“Matt and I have a history.”
I felt myself flinch, my brows lift. “What do you mean?”
“I met him in college when I was spending my junior year abroad in London. At some pub. He was on a business trip.”
