Insider

"Don't start, dad. Don't go there. She stopped coming to see me for four months, and then....." I let it hang, it didn't need to be said, it was plain on their faces.

"I'll come later this afternoon. Now, please, can all of you just leave."

I closed the door again and slumped to the floor.

Their whispered conversation lasted about ten more minutes before my mother addressed the door. Maybe she had a maternal instinct that told her I was on the other side, maybe it was hope, or maybe it was just an empty release for her.

"Even if you don't believe it, we all still love you, Paul. Nerida still loves you. Please come back."

They finally left without fanfare, and I found myself crawling to the bed where I lay atop the covers and cried.

[ -- ]

The sky was darkening rapidly outside, and I realised that I had fallen asleep. It would take me about thirty minutes to reach my home, but even given the further misery that my tardiness would heap upon my mother, and if she were to be believed, my family also, I decided to shower and shave. If I was going to head to the gallows, I was going to do it fresh and clean.

I was now more than thankful for the new wardrobe, albeit small, that Kent had arranged for me prior to my arrival at Kelly's. The clothes didn't fit perfectly, but they were clean, and new, and not the prison wear that had been my fashion for the past year. I chose a neat short sleeved navy shirt with a cream collar, and a pair of tapered jeans. I took a swig of mouthwash and swirled it around a few times and gargled it before spitting the sharply sweet blue liquid into the sink. I was nervous, more nervous than I had ever been before in my life. More nervous than when I had asked Nerida to marry me, more nervous than when I stood at the front of the church and watched my beautiful bride walk down the aisle towards me, more nervous than when I stood in the dock at my trial. Now I was facing a jury that comprised of the ones who knew me most, knew me best, and could wound me most deeply.

Taking a few deep breaths, I grabbed the keys for Kelly's Rav4, and headed out. Thankfully, Kent had told me the day before that I could use the car if needed, just to make sure that the tank was kept full, the car clean and to treat it with respect. As if I wouldn't I thought, but I guess he had to mention it, this was his sister's place, his sister's possessions, and she was being gracious enough to let me use them. A little reminder, as though I was a wayward teenager, wasn't beyond expectations.

It had been a long time since I was behind the wheel, and it took me a moment to get the feel back. The concept of driving, the inherent knowledge, never really leaves you, but the road confidence, the awareness of the speed with which things happen, and the ability to react, they all deteriorate, like any muscle or skill not exercised. I almost had three accidents on the short drive, my nerves were shot, and I was sweating great pools under each arm, enough to end a drought.

The house, my house, looked the same as it always had, though now the garden was a bit overgrown. The weeds seemed to be winning the war against the roses that lined the driveway, and the large tree that sat on the nature strip had cast countless leaves upon the lawn that remained un-raked and piled about in an unsightly manner.

I sat, staring at the house trying to compose myself, trying to build my confidence up to where I could manage the coming confrontation.

A blind moved, and I thought I saw a small face peer out momentarily.

One deep breath, two deep breaths, three. I was nearly hyperventilating with my anxiety, and I struggled to quieten the inner fears, to overcome my secret demons that sought to overwhelm me and drag me back down.

I had to do this, even if only for my children.

It was then that I noticed it, three cars in the driveway. Dad's hilux, Bianca's volvo and a third one, an unknown gaudy metallic Mazda Tribute.

My heart skipped a beat. Was that the vehicle of Nerida's new man, her lover? Had she moved him into my house with my children? Was he waiting inside with them, with her, with my children?

I struggled. I sat and silently fought with my inner turmoil. I battled for a long time with my conscience, but eventually, the devil won.

I turned the ignition back on, and drove off. I couldn't do it. I couldn't face the man who had stolen my wife and impregnated her.

I had driven for about five minutes when I heard the voice in my mind. It was my mother's voice, castigating me for the cowardice that had resulted in the tears of my children when I didn't return home. "Don't you dare abandon them." I slammed down hard on the breaks, sending a bloom of smoke into the air, and leaving burnt rubber tracks upon the asphalt. The suddenness of my breaking sent the car behind me into hasty evasive manoeuvring, but thankfully, the driver had been paying attention and they avoided me.

I remained in the middle of the road, the car stationary, but I was shaking. Other drivers honked their car horns at me, raging at the inconvenience that I was causing. I didn't want any of this. I didn't want to face Nerida and her boyfriend, the father of her unborn child. I didn't want to face her swollen belly. I knew and accepted that she had moved on, I had only myself to blame for that, but why all the pretence? Why all the claims, even if by way of proxy, that she loved me? Why couldn't she move on for the both of us, forget about me and be happy. Why couldn't she agree with the divorce proceedings, split a few of the assets and agree to a custody arrangement where I was able to see my children, and then grow her new family. Surely that was best for her, best for her situation, and ultimately best for our children.

In a fit of pique, I slammed my head against the steering wheel, striking the horn as I did. It blasted out in a loud, long peal, aggravating the drivers around me even more.

The tapping at the window alerted me to her presence. My mother. She was crestfallen, her eyes were rimmed red and her cheeks wet.

"Let me in, please."

She was in a dangerous situation. The cars on the street that I was partially blocking were zooming past faster and faster now, striking their horns as they hurled abuse towards me. My mother stood next to my vehicle, but in a precarious position. It wouldn't take much of a mistake from an irate driver to strike her. I unlocked the doors, and nodded to her gently. Her sadness remained, but now her face also bore a smile, weak though it was. Hastily, she opened the door and slid in behind me.

"Thank you, Paul."

I grunted as I flicked on the indicator before I slowly merged back into the traffic proper, and continued driving.

"Can we go back to your home now? The kids want to see you, they need to see you."

I didn't say anything as I turned into a side street so that I could affect a U-turn, but as I did, I saw the mysterious Tribute in the horrible green that had been in my driveway. I started, shocked. It was being driven by Blake, my brother, and suddenly a terrible feeling took seed deep within.

Was my brother the one that had stolen my wife?

I shook my head. He wouldn't do that. For all my failings, for all his failings, we were kin, we were blood, and he loved me as I loved him. Even after I brought down ruination upon my own head and by extension my family, he was still there for me, he wouldn't betray me like that. Would he?

"Who's the father?" I eventually asked my mother as I headed towards my house.

I looked at my mother in the mirror, and saw her sadly shake her head. "It's a mess, Paul. She loves you very much."

"Who's the father?" I asked again.

"I don't know sweetheart. I haven't asked her, and she hasn't said."

I could tell that she had more secrets, that something wasn't being said.

I bit my tongue as I pulled into my driveway, or at least what had been my driveway. Blake pulled in behind me, blocking me in, but as my mother and I left the car, he stayed put. He was watching me intently, eyes narrowed. I couldn't take it anymore, and I turned from the house, from my mother and strode towards my brother.

As I approached, he lowered the window.

"Are you the one that fucked my wife?" I yelled at him. The colour drained from his face, and his lip quivered as his eyes moistened.

"What? Paul, you're my brother. I'd never do anything like that. Oh my god. Paul, I love you, I'd never disrespect you. I'm, I'm just worried about you. We all are." He held his right hand over his heart, "On our grandparent's grave, I haven't, wouldn't touch Nerida. I am just really worried about you." He tried to laugh, but it died upon his lips. "Please Paul, believe me, it wasn't me."

I was unsure as to the truth of his words, and sagged, defeated.

I trudged towards the house, moving past my clearly stunned and appalled mother. She had heard my accusation towards Blake, hell, probably half to the neighbourhood had.

Meekly, I approached the door, raising my hand to knock. But my hand never fell, as the portal was suddenly opened by two small, very excited children. They were more nervous than me, and were crying tears of joy with yells of "Daddy, Daddy!"

I stooped down and grasped them. Even if nothing else worked out for me, I would hopefully still have the relationship with my two boys.. Samuel was seven now and Nathan five. They had grown so much in my absence and were the spitting image of me at their age, except for the horrible haircuts that they both now sported. I hugged them to me, crushing them into me as I soaked up the warmth and innocent love that they had in abundance to give as I hurriedly and messily planted kisses upon their cheeks in a rain of emotion.

"I love you boys," I cried out. "I have missed you so, so much."

I was about to say more, when I noticed behind them, a very coy and very demure Nerida. Her stomach was obscene, jutting out in front of her. A giant, horrific reminder of what had been done to her by a man other than me. It was confronting, devastatingly so. It was heartbreaking.

She saw my look, and followed it to her belly. "I'm so sorry, Paul," she wept. "I am so, so sorry."

I couldn't look at her.

"Don't be. I wasn't here for you, I assumed you'd move on from me. I understand." She was crying, and I realised that I was crying again, with her, for her and for me. The boys didn't really understand everything that was happening, but they could tell it wasn't good. From the corner of my eye, I could see Bianca and my father, as well as Nerida's mother Geraldine. They were watching me, cautiously optimistic, but smart enough to be quiet and not intrude further, seeing how volatile the situation was.

"I'm happy to work with you on the settlement so that you can move on with your new man," I said, resigned to my new reality.

"Paul, I don't want a divorce. I want you back with me. Back with us, where you belong."

My ears couldn't have heard that correctly, could they? I looked at her face, she was beautiful as always, though heavier with the pregnancy. Being with child suited Nerida, it softened her face and gave her an angelic appeal. They say that women seem to glow with the love of the child that she carried within, and with Nerida it was clearly evident. My gaze drifted from her face to her stomach and back again, and I cringed.

"Paul, it was a mistake."

"A mistake?" I laughed. "How original."

"Paul, please." She tried to come to me, to hold me, but I used the boys like a shield to guard against her. "I wanted to leave you when you were in goal. I was going to leave you. I thought I hated you."

My eyes shifted back up and fixated on hers. She was wringing her hands and lightly stepping from one foot to the other. There was no doubt that her very large belly, eight months into her pregnancy, was uncomfortable in this position, causing her to adjust her weight constantly, but this was also a tic that Nerida had when nervous. I rolled my hand over, indicating that she should continue.

"I was going to leave you, I wanted to leave you. I felt so let down by you. You abandoned our family, you abandoned your family."

I interceded at that declaration, "I didn't have a choice in that, Nerida."

"Bullshit, Paul. Your greed tore this family apart. We were happy. I was happy. I thought you were happy. Then you cast us aside for more," she was about to swear, about to use the forbidden 'F word' in front of our children, but she caught herself. "You threw us all away, for money. Money we didn't even need."

I couldn't argue about that. That very thinking was a constant presence in my mind, in my thoughts during the twelve months I spent locked up. My eyes left hers in guilt and humiliation.

"I couldn't take it any longer, I was going to leave you. I wanted to leave you. So, I did what most people do in that situation, I went out and found someone else. But they weren't you. I still loved you, even when I hated you. Even after everything you did. It was a mistake, and I'm sorry, but it happened, and now we need to overcome it together."

"But Nerida, you were on birth control when I went away. This," I indicated to her stomach, "this is premeditated. You didn't use control, you didn't use protection...."

"It wasn't premeditated Paul, the sex was, absolutely that was. I needed something, I needed someone, I needed to distance myself from you." The tears were streaming down her face, the hand wringing and displacement of her weight was only getting more strenuous. Furtively, I cast a quick glance around. The rest of my family and Nerdia's mother were still standing nearby, watching, listening, in silent judgement as though sentinels of justice.

"But I love you Paul. I love you. I was so upset, so broken from going to see you in gaol, so sad when I came back to our children, your children. Your selfish actions had denied them their father. I hated you even as I loved you. I just forgot to take my pills. I didn't, hadn't needed them because you weren't here. It wasn't premeditated, I simply wasn't thinking, I simply forgot. My mind was a mess.

"When I realised that I still needed you in my life, it was too late, I was pregnant, and I couldn't come to see you then."

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" I turned my ire to my family.

My father spoke up as he held my mother. "We didn't want you more upset. Everyone knew you were doing it hard. We didn't want you doing something stupid, or slipping further into depression."

"So what? You expect me to come back and raise another man's child? Are you still seeing him?"

"I would like to keep the child, she could be our daughter together." Nerida slowly inched forward, trying again to reach for me, but the boys were still my shield. "It is not her fault. I would like for us to be a family again, for you to be the wonderful father that I know you can be, and to once more be my husband."

"Seriously?" I couldn't believe it. I understood her words, I understood the reasons, they sounded plausible. But for her to expect me to raise another man's child as my own, "Everyone we know will know I'm not the father. You want to humiliate me? Is that it? More punishment?"

"Paul, you went to prison. For a crime of utter greed. Everyone knows what you did. It made the front page of all the major papers. It was on the evening news for weeks as your trial progressed. Your actions humiliated and shamed us all. And not just me, not just your children, but our parents, your brother and sister, your friends. Everyone knows you placed money above us.

"But I still love you, we all do. I forgive you."

I staggered to the ground, pushing my boys slightly away from me as I did. "Go to grandma and nanna," I said gently, giving them another gentle prod in the way of their maternal grandparents.

"Paul, I'm sorry that it happened. I'm sorry that I am pregnant. But it happened." She shrugged, a cute but sad little gesture. "I didn't set out to get pregnant. And no, I'm not seeing him anymore. It only lasted a month, and then I realised I still wanted you."

She came at me again, and this time, I had no response. Her delicate hands cradled my head to her.

"If it means that much to you though, I will give the child up for adoption."

"Who is the father?" The question that I had asked my mother earlier was back. And it was a question I needed an answer to. There was still doubt in my mind if I could take her back, if I would take her back. But I needed that question answered.

"Paul, please, I can't tell you that. There is nothing to gain from it."

I stiffened at her answer. It was not the answer I needed.

"You not giving me his name tells me one of three things. He's either someone I know, he's married, or you're still seeing him, regardless of whatever it is you say." I pulled away from her hands, and sat upon the floor looking up at her.

"Paul," she began, trembling.

"Tell me his name, Nerida. If you really, truly, love me, if you really, truly want me back, tell me his name."

"I can't...." she was still trembling.

"Then we have nothing else to talk about," I stood, my knees creaking as I did, sending a sharp pain radiating out from each of them. "And I will bid you good evening." Nerida was stunned into silence, her mouth hanging open. This was clearly not how she had hoped this would go.

I moved towards the front door, intending to leave and never return, my mind now truly made up, not because of the affair, but because of her keeping the details of it from me. "Blake, I'll need you to move your car."

"Paul," Nerida pleaded with me again, as she and the others followed towards the door. I shook my head. She was protecting him, and to what purpose.

"Paul, you don't need to know," started my mother. "What will it do? Are you going to go and hurt them, and end up back in gaol?"

"No mother, I just wanted some honesty." I pulled the door open and staggered into the night, heading for Kelly's car that was still blocked in by Blake. Looking back, my brother hadn't moved.

"Was it him?" I pointed to my brother as I yelled, reiterating my earlier accusation. Nerida flinched, Blake flinched.

"No Paul, it wasn't Blake."

I shrugged and moved further outside, but she followed me. "Come on Blake, move the car." I swung the keys around melodramatically upon my index finger. "There is nothing but my boys here for me now, and I guess how much of them I have is going to be up to the family courts."

Nerida gasped upon my mention of the family courts, the place where families are usually ripped apart by the cruel and uncaring legal system.

"Paul, I told you it wasn't me. That's the honest truth." Blake had finally roused from his reverie and was slowly stalking his way to his car, keys in hand. He looked nervous.

"Then who was it, Blake? Who was it? You know, don't you? Come on Nerida. What is more important, giving up your lover, or getting back your husband?"

She was stuck. If she wanted me back, she knew the price it would cost her. "It was Andy, ok, Andy." My wife yelled at me after a pause that seemed to last an age.

"Your boss?" I was shocked. I had thought he was gay.

"Yes, Andy. He and I... I'm not working there anymore. I quit when I realised that I wanted to stay with you, even after all that you did."

I turned to look at Blake, he smiled wryly, and shrugged. "I caught them here, but she made me promise not to tell you. Not because she wanted to hurt you, bro, because she doesn't want you doing anything stupid. Can't you accept that people can make mistakes? Or are you the only human capable of them? Are you the only one worthy of forgiveness?

"Also, I guess, even though it's insulting to think I'd screw my own brother's wife, thanks for pumping up my tires." He smiled wickedly, poking his tongue out at me with levity that I hadn't known for a long time. "You know Nerida is out of my league. You were always the pretty boy in the family."