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If you don’t tell him, I will.
Just three sentences. The handwriting was pretty distinct, so I was certain that it was Hugh’s.
I interpreted the note quickly. ‘You can’t go through with it’ referred to our wedding. ‘If you don’t tell him, I will’ was obviously talking about telling me. Telling me what? The most logical guess was that Aila and Hugh were having an affair.
I didn’t panic, because the thought was simply ludicrous. Aila loved me. We were getting married in mere days. Lately, she’d been so happy getting the cottage ready. We’d even talked about having wee’uns right away. No, I didn’t doubt her love for a single second.
I was misinterpreting the note. There had to be a reasonable explanation for it. She’d laugh at me for even thinking that she’d been unfaithful. Maybe she’d give me a wallop for being such an eejit.
When she came into the room and saw me holding the paper, her face visibly paled.
My palms began to sweat and my heart started to race. “Aila, what is this?”
She didn’t laugh or give me a wallop. Her eyes shifted nervously away from me. “It’s nothing.”
I stood my ground and demanded an answer. “Who wrote this?”
“No one! It’s from work.” Her voice cracked. “It’s not mine.”
I could tell she was lying. I knew her well enough to know when she was trying to hide something.
My face tightened in anger and I growled, “Are you cheating on me with Hugh?”
Aila denied it, but her words lacked conviction. She stammered, “I-It’s not what it looks like! It’s just a misunderstanding.”
I crossed my arms and glared at her. “Explain yourself,” I commanded.
Her hands were shaking and tears were flooding her eyes. “It’s not what you think, Knox. I love you. Please don’t do this.”
“It’s not what I think?” I roared. “Then tell me what it is. Tell me you did not sleep with Hugh while I was out busting my arse late at night to make some extra money to pay for this bloody wedding. Look me in the eye and swear it, Aila.”
She was sobbing now. “I love you, Knox. You’ve got to believe that.”
Rage boiled in my veins as she said nothing. Her silence spoke volumes and filled my mind with a million doubts. With blinding shock, I accepted the truth, even though it felt like a nightmare. The acidic burn of betrayal took root in my gut and blotted out all hope. My insides roiled, and my heart sank. My voice was deadly calm. “Tell me you didn’t. Tell me you didn’t fuck my best mate.”
She covered her face with her hands and slumped to the ground on her knees. “Knox, please...”
I turned away, not able to look at her. I tasted bile in the back of my throat as I listened to her keening sobs. “Where is that bloody bastard? I’ll kill him.”
“Knox, no!” she cried. Aila scrambled to her feet and lunged for the door. With a loud slam of the door, she stormed outside. I wanted to chase her, to force her to deny everything, but I was nearly paralyzed with shock.
Stumbling back into our bedroom, I collapsed onto the bed. I didn’t know then, but minutes later, she would be dead.
I blinked my eyes, wiping away the memories, and slowly came back to the present. I’d spent years trying to figure out why Aila had thrown away our love and slept with Hugh. Did she stop loving me? Did she love him? Had they grown close all those nights I wasn’t there? I’d eventually come to the bitter realization that I’d never learn the answers to those questions.
Aila was gone and Hugh and I never spoke more than a few words to each other after her death. Hugh moved out of the cottage the day after she died, cementing their betrayal of me in my mind. After the funeral, I began making arrangements and left for America as soon as I could. I had to get away from all of that hurt and anger.
The parallels to this situation didn’t escape me. I was almost in the same exact position as I was that day when I was staring at the ripped note. I was faced with the evidence that the woman I loved was cheating on me. And, yet once again, I was in complete denial. I didn’t believe it could be true. Our love was so real and so strong that it transcended that kind of thing. She wouldn’t cheat on me. I just couldn’t comprehend it.
Maybe Summer was like all the other girls, after all. Did she get a taste of the glamorous rock star life and decide she wanted more? Did she want a guy with the bigger celebrity, more status, more fame and fortune, with the paparazzi dogging his every move like crazed sycophants? A guy in the spotlight — the lead singer, not the guitarist. A charismatic man, mysterious and brooding, with a luxury apartment who knew how to spend his money. Not a cheapskate. Not a simple man, like me.
Fuck! Could it be true? Ghost had an enticingly seductive personality. No one could deny that. Could Summer have gotten swept up by that?
Doubts seeped into my bones and sliced through me like a sharp blade, cutting deep. My stomach muscles clenched as a wave of dizzying dread washed over me.
The shower water turned off, and I panicked. I was not going to yell at her. I was not going to confront her at all. There was no way I was going to relive that agony.
I needed to escape. As quickly as I could, I tossed on some clothes, grabbed my wallet, and searched around for my shoes. I bolted for the door, but at the last minute, I backtracked and grabbed my guitar. A few minutes later, I slapped on my ball cap, slid on some sunglasses, and made my way out of the building.
