Read What's Done In the Dark Online

Authors: Reshonda Tate Billingsley

What's Done In the Dark (21 page)

“Girl, her husband caught her cheating. Apparently, he killed the other guy, then stabbed her. She got away, then he followed her here,” April said. “He just kept telling the police, ‘I thought we were happy.’ That’s all he said over and over.”

“Wow.”

“Yep,” she continued, shaking her head. “He tried to kill her.” She stopped and looked toward the bay where the
woman had died. “I guess he did kill her. That’s why I try to tell folks, you playing with fire when you step out on your mate. You never know what someone is capable of until they’ve been wronged.”

I was stunned. It’s like she was sending me a direct message. But was Greg capable of murder?
No
, I told myself. Greg would never do something like that. But still, deep down, I knew, with a betrayal like this, I had no idea what my husband was capable of.

I had a hard time concentrating the rest of my shift. I had just clocked out when I saw Valerie Westbrook, our clinical psychologist, heading to her office.

I don’t know what made me stop her, but I said, “Hey, Valerie. Can I talk to you for a moment?”

“Sure, Felise. What’s going on?”

“You heard about what happened in the ER tonight?”

“Yes.” She assumed her professional demeanor. “I got the All-text, which is why I came on in. Such a tragedy. And I understand you were with her. Do you need to talk?”

We had psychologists on staff because sometimes the trauma of the ER got to be too much.

“I actually do,” I said. While the young woman’s murder bothered me, that’s not what I wanted to talk to Valerie about. I hated using tonight’s situation to find out answers for myself, but I wasn’t ready to admit to anyone else what I’d done.

“Let’s step in my office.” She led the way down the hallway. I followed her in and took a seat. She sat down behind her desk and got into therapist mode.

“So, you were with her when she came in?”

“I was. She wanted me to tell her kids she was sorry. It was so heartbreaking. She felt like she was to blame. ”

Valerie was listening intently. “I’m sorry you had to endure that, but I’m sure it was comforting to the woman to have you there.”

“She said he’d never gotten out of control like that before. Do you think it’s possible for someone with no violent history to snap?”

Valerie nodded. “Absolutely. Crimes of passion are often the result of rage, many times that no one saw coming. They’re amplified when the person feels like the betrayal was significant.”

“The lady was really remorseful, and she wanted to make sure her kids didn’t hate her husband.” She listened like she was waiting for me to continue. “I know you deal with mostly traumatic situations, but you do a lot of family counseling as well.” I needed to make sure I was convincing, so I let myself look confused. I’d been trying to make sense of how I could’ve done what I did. Maybe Valerie could indirectly help me find some answers. “I guess I’m just trying to understand what makes a person cheat. I mean, she seemed like a sweet woman, and apparently the husband thought they were perfectly happy. Why would she risk everything?”

“No one who is perfectly happy in their primary relationship gets into a second one,” Valerie said matter-of-factly.

“Hmmm,” I said.

“Usually, they’re missing or lacking something,” Valerie continued. “Let me use this analogy. Imagine someone wandering around with a couple of empty wineglasses who
suddenly meets someone with a bottle of wine. And so they want a little taste.”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Are you sure there’s not anything more you want to talk about?”

“No, no. I just felt bad for the lady, that’s all.” I wanted to ask her more questions, talk to her about how I could get over the guilt, but I was too ashamed to let her in on what I’d done.

“Really, that was it,” I said. “It’s all just part of the job, I guess.” I shrugged. “But thank you for taking the time out to talk to me.”

“My door is always open, whenever you need me. You can come talk to me about anything, work-related or not.”

I probably needed to come on a regular basis, but I knew I never would. I did walk away with one valuable nugget, though. This secret was a ticking time bomb. Greg had only rumbled the other day. If he stumbled upon the truth any other way, he would completely explode.

No, I had to put on my big-girl panties, tell the truth, and deal with the consequences—however
frightening they might be.

43

Paula

RETURNING TO MY NORMAL HOUSEHOLD
duties felt strange. With Steven gone, I didn’t think that normalcy would ever return again. It had actually been quiet around here. My children still were away. I’d talked to them this morning. The boys weren’t in a hurry to come home, and Tahiry wouldn’t be back from camp for two weeks. I was going to do like my mom said and enjoy my peace, but honestly, I wouldn’t have minded hearing the chatter of my children.

I was folding the last of the laundry and had just placed a stack of towels in the linen closet when the doorbell rang. I peeked outside and saw the UPS deliveryman.

“Hi,” he said after I opened the door. “I have a delivery”—he glanced down at his clipboard—“for Steven Wright.”

I was momentarily speechless. What was I supposed to say? “Sorry, Steven is dead”? Or, “Sorry, Steven can never sign for another package”? So I just said, “I’ll take it.”

Back inside, I opened the package. I couldn’t believe the emotions that were flowing through me.
What had my husband ordered? I slowly pulled the package open. My heart dropped when I saw the blue Tiffany’s box inside.

“Oh, my God,” I said, after opening the box. It contained a beautiful white-gold chain-link bracelet with a dangling heart and the most beautiful inscription:
I want to grow old with you. SW. Happy Anniversary.

I fell to the floor in tears and didn’t look up until my mom entered the living room.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

I managed a nod. “Yes.” I held the box out toward her. “I just got this. Apparently, Steven was having it delivered to arrive in time for our anniversary.”

“Oh, honey,” my mom said. She took the bracelet out and examined it. “Oh, my God, it’s beautiful.”

I pulled myself up off the floor. “I guess this is a sign. Everyone keeps telling me to let the anger go, the quest for answers, everything. I prayed for God to send me a sign that that’s what I needed to do. I wanted some kind of confirmation that I was doing the right thing.”

She eased the bracelet onto my arm. “Well, you got your sign.”

I put my hand over my mouth to stifle a sob.

“Paula,” my mother said, “don’t focus on what happened on the night Steven died. Look at the life he lived. And the legacy”—she handed me an envelope—“that he’s leaving you and your children.”

“What’s that?” I asked, taking it.

“Came in the mail for you. It’s from New York Life Insurance Company, so I thought it might be important.”

I frowned as I pulled myself up off the floor. “That’s strange. Our life insurance is through
AIG.”

I tore the envelope open and fell back against the wall in sheer shock at the sight of the check I was holding in my hand.

“What is it?” my mom said, leaning over. She clutched her heart. “Glory be to Jesus! Does that say two million dollars?”

I knew that Steven had insurance through his company. But I had no idea that he had taken out an additional life insurance policy.

“What . . . Who? I didn’t even fill out the paperwork.” I rifled through the envelope until I saw a letter. I was reading it when my mom nudged me and said, “Read it out loud.”

I started reading: “ ‘Hey, Paula. I know you are swamped, so I went ahead and processed your paperwork for Steven’s life insurance policy. I know this can’t bring him back, but he loved you and the kids so much and he wanted you to be taken care of. Let me know if you need anything. Love, Carl.’ ” I looked at my mom. “It’s from Steven’s friend, Carl. He’s an insurance agent.” I stared at the check again. “Oh, my God. I had no idea.”

“Wow. I think that’s quite a nice way to say ‘I’m sorry.’ ”

“Mama!”

“I know that’s bad, but it’s the truth.” She looked up toward the ceiling. “Steven, I don’t know if my daughter forgives you, but I sure do.”

“Mama, you are so foul.” I actually managed to laugh through my tears.

“Whatever. Nothing says ‘I’m sorry’ like a two-million-dollar check.”

I held the check to my chest. We’d already received five hundred thousand dollars in life insurance
from Steven’s job. We would live off that. This, I’d use to pay off the house, then put the rest up for my kids. “This money is for my children’s future.”

“Okay, okay. It’s for the kids. But let me hold twenty bucks for bingo. I’m feeling lucky.”

I laughed as I pushed my mom out the door. I had so many questions and conflicting feelings about what had happened with Steven, but I felt a lot better. Not because of the money. I hated what he did, but the gift and the supplemental insurance policy announced his feelings loud and clear. My husband loved me—flaws and all. And that is the memory that I would choose to cherish.

44

Felise

YOU CAN’T CONTINUE THIS WEB
of lies
. My older sister’s words continued to ring in my ears as I watched Greg walk up the path to our house. I’d been watching out for him since he answered my call and agreed to come over.

I said a silent prayer asking God to give me strength to not back out at the last minute.

“Hey,” I said, opening the door before he had a chance to unlock it. I stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.

“Hey,” he dryly replied, walking in. “Where’s Liz?”

“She’s at her friend’s house. I felt like we should talk alone.”

He hadn’t been home in a week. He’d been holed up in a hotel, and I felt like he was sinking into a depression. It was time for this madness to end. It was time for me to tell the truth.

“I don’t know what there’s left for us to talk about.” Greg sighed heavily.

“Now that things have calmed down, I want to tell you everything.”

He had a look on his face like he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear it, so I motioned for him to sit down in the living room. “Please. Have a seat.” He did, apprehensively, never taking his eyes off me.

I took a deep breath.
God give me strength.
“I asked you here because I wanted to tell you why I took the money,” I began. “The real reason.”

“I’m listening.”

Don’t do it
—now Fran’s voice was ringing through my head. I shook it away and continued talking. “I was being blackmailed.”

I expected him to balk, drop his mouth in confusion, even call me a liar, but instead he only said, “By whom and for what?”

“By Sabrina Fulton. My old college roommate.”

“Why would Sabrina be blackmailing you?”

I took another deep breath, and a lie slid to the edge of my tongue. But I’d done enough lying. I wanted to come clean. I
needed
to come clean if I wanted to save my marriage. Because one lie had spawned another, and the string of them was slowly killing me. My gut told me that the truth was going to eventually come out. I couldn’t risk Greg opening his email one day and finding the video. I knew my husband. If our marriage could be salvaged at all, the truth had to come from me.

“There is no one else. I’m not having an affair. I swear.”
Could what Steven and I did even be classified as an affair?
I shook away that thought. I needed to focus.
“I want to be very clear about that.”

He was studying me, trying to detect any lies. “Okay, if you’re not having an affair, then what’s been up with you?” he asked. “What did you do to allow someone to blackmail you?”

I thought about telling him that I did meet Steven and I did go up to his room, but that we didn’t do anything. However, Greg knew that I didn’t come home that night. That story would only infuriate him even more because of how implausible it sounded. He wouldn’t believe anything but the truth. So I simply said, “The night of our anniversary, I was very upset and I went to the Four Seasons to go to the bar. I sat there and drowned my sorrows.” I could tell Greg was waiting with bated breath. “Well, I bumped into someone while I was there.”

“Who?”

I had to dig deep inside my soul to utter my next words. “Steven.”

“Paula’s Steven?”

I nodded, and his brow furrowed as if he was thinking. “Wait, that’s the night he died. Did you . . . Were you? . . . You spent the night with him?”

I nodded as my eyes filled with tears.

“Are you kidding me?” he yelled, jumping up from his seat. “You had sex with Steven?”

Again, silence on my end. There were no words to justify my indiscretion, so I remained quiet.

“Paula is your best friend. Steven is . . . He’s like family!”

“I know. I didn’t mean for it . . . I mean, it just happened,” I stammered.

“You don’t
just happen
to fall into bed with your best friend’s husband!”
he screamed.

My shoulders trembled as the waterworks began. “Neither one of us intended for it to happen. We’d had too much to drink, and one thing led to another.” I decided to leave out the information about all the unresolved feelings because my husband could handle only so much.

“Felise, how could you?” he cried. I didn’t miss that, unlike the other day when he accused me of sleeping with some stranger, he didn’t seem angry, exactly. Today, he seemed more hurt. And that hurt my heart.

“It just happened,” I repeated. I did force out a lie when I added, “It meant nothing.”

“So you cheated on me, you hurt me like this, and
it meant nothing
? Screwing him wasn’t even worth it to you?” he questioned, his voice cracking. “You throw away everything we built over something that meant
nothing
?”

“We both knew it was wrong. We both swore it would never happen again. Please believe me,” I pleaded.

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