Read My Dear Stranger Page 34


  But I feel dead. I'm the old Zombie Sadie. I am lifeless with this reality.

  When Alex pulls at my arms as I sit, I fight him. I don’t want him to hold me, or warm me, or even love me anymore.

  “Please Alex, understand. I need to have a smoke, and I need to understand what's going on. I need this.”

  “Okay, I'll come with you. I don't mind,” he says scrambling for more clothes. But I can't even acknowledge this kindness of Alexander's because I feel nothing but the shock of my reality crushing me.

  My Dear Stranger.

  David Adams.

  My half-brother.

  CHAPTER 35

  Walking past my quiet kitchen and living room I walk directly to the security panel because I need to make sure we’re safe. I have to be sure because I need us to be safe again.

  Entering the garage, I hear the beep of the door and I know the rest of our house is still armed. I know we're safe inside again. I know we’re safe right now.

  Sitting in my lounge chair, Alex follows me almost immediately while pulling on his winter coat. Not even pretending he doesn't know what I'm doing, Alex leans down and picks up my smokes and hands them over to me.

  Lighting a smoke in silence, I see Alex grab another chair as he props it up right beside me. I see him with me, but I can't even acknowledge him.

  “Alexander? If the start of a relationship is forced but the situation of the force changes, is the relationship still tainted forever?”

  “I think so,” he answers immediately.

  “But if I thought I loved Him, does that make the relationship change?”

  “I don't know. Maybe you just changed the relationship in your mind so you could deal with it. Maybe it was just a coping mechanism, or something. You could always talk to a Psychiatrist, or a counsellor about it. Maybe you could get the answers you need with some counselling,” Alex says softly.

  But I don't think so. I don't think I told Dr. Synode who He was because I don't think I really knew, but he was already judgmental about my 'unconventional' relationship without even knowing who He really was to me. I don't think a different Psychiatrist will feel any differently, and then I'll never get an objective answer to my question.

  “My father knew?”

  “Yes. And after some convincing he called David and I left it with him. Your father told me we would never see him again. Your father was absolutely sickened and distraught by what I told him. He felt guilt and shame, and I know he was almost murderous with his rage. And just before he phoned Him, he asked me to keep this between us. He told me he would make it so He never saw you again, and he would deal with it totally. He wasn't sure if he even wanted your mother to know, but I don't know if he did or didn't eventually tell her. He-”

  “Oh, god... No, he wouldn’t. How could he? No, she would have freaked out, right?”

  “Well, as I said, I didn't know if he would or wouldn't tell her, I just wanted to get the hell out of there. I needed to get back to you, and I needed to be with you. I felt differently about the pre-wedding night stuff after I read what you chose to do for Jamie's sake. I read how you only gave into Him to protect my baby. I read how you thought of me instead of Him during the act, so I realized you really did believe it was me with you the night before, because you couldn’t face being with Him anymore. And I needed to get to you because I loved you and I was so devastated by what happened to you. So after your dad assured me this would be dealt with I returned to the hotel to take care of you.”

  “And I was a mess. Again,” I admit calmly.

  “Yes. But with reason, Sadie. I think that's why I've always stuck around. You always had a reason to be messed up. It wasn't like you were just some psycho who couldn't deal with life. You were a woman struggling to deal with her horrible life. And somehow that made every freak out or mistake as you called them tolerable. I never resented your freak outs because I knew you were trying desperately to deal with so much. I was just angry at what you did when you freaked out.”

  “Does anyone else know?”

  “I doubt it. I'm pretty sure your father wouldn't have told anyone else, and I sure as hell didn't. And I don't know who else knew about it. I know Patrick thought you were delusional, even after everything he did see, maybe because he didn't see David ever. I don't-”

  “Don't ever say His name again. Like EVER, Alexander,” I speak through my exhale, and I realize this is by far the most calming cigarette I've ever had in my life.

  “Sorry, Sade. I'll never-”

  “Is there anything else, Alexander?”

  “No,” he says way too quickly. And again I know he's lying.

  Will this weekend never end? It's like 6:00 in the morning on Tuesday and it's not over yet. There's more. Alexander is still holding back, and he's still lying to me about it.

  “Don't talk, Alexander. If you're going to sit with me I want silence while I think,” I say kind of bitchy to him. And maybe surprised by my sudden hostility, he simply nods and looks down at his hands.

  Think!

  What did Alex say to me? What was it he said?

  Reaching for my blue Asian silk journal, I hold it tightly in my hands. I know Alexander stiffened beside me when I picked it up, but I don't care. It’s my journal and I can hold it if I want to.

  Feeling the silken thread beneath my fingers, I'm again reminded of my youth. I remember always rubbing the cover after His visits when I would write about our night together. I remember holding my journal as I cried for Him to come back to me. I remember crying on my journal when He would leave me. I remember crying, all the time.

  But I never cry anymore. I don't have to. Everything is good and safe now. Everything is as it should be. Everything is as I always wanted it to be.

  “What if He comes back again?” I choke out. I feel so scared suddenly by that reality, I shake uncontrollably.

  “He's never coming back, Sade.”

  “How do you know? He always comes back.”

  “He's not,” Alex says taking my hand.

  “But what if He does? Will you hate me forever? I can't seem to get Him to leave me alone. I can't seem to be without Him. He's just always waiting in the background for me,” I admit crying.

  “He's not coming back, Sadie. Ever,” Alexander says with a complete confidence I don't have.

  “But He-”

  “NEVER, Sadie.”

  Crying, I look at Alexander and the confusion swamps me again. I know he knows more. I can tell there is more to this- again.

  Crying, I am exhausted from all this. This has been the longest weekend of my life, and I can't make it stop.

  What did he say? What did Alexander say to me?

  'And I needed Him to go away Sadie. For you!'

  'You needed me to help and I fixed you. We're fine and I did that for you. I made Him go away, FOR YOU!'

  Oh FUCK! What did he do?

  “What did you do, Alex? Tell me,” I beg.

  “What do you mean?” He whispers beside me.

  “What did you do to Him?” I ask. There I've asked the question I should've asked when this all started. “How do you know He won't come back?” Oh god...

  “What do you mean?”

  “You know what I mean. Please don't screw with me. I know you know what I'm asking. What. Did. You. Do. To. Him?” I spell it out clearly.

  “Nothing.”

  “So then He might come back one day. He might come back to claim me. He might hurt me again.”

  “No, He won't,” Alex says shaking his head. But he knows. I can tell he knows more.

  “Please, just fucking tell me what you did. I don't care anymore, and I won't be mad. I just need to know. What did you do to Him?”

  “Sadie, I swear I didn't do anything to Him. Just drop it, baby. Let it go now. It's over.”

  “It's NOT over! Don't you get it!? It will never be over! If I'm not fucking Him in my sleep, I'm waiting for Him to come back to fuck me awake. It never ends for me
! What the fuck did you do?”

  “I didn't do any-”

  “JUST TELL ME!”

  “There's nothing to tell. I swear I didn't do anything!” Alexander yells back visibly shaking.

  “Okay. Well, I don't believe you, and I don't want to live like this, and I can't keep doing this with you. I know you did something, and I know you won't tell me, but I can't keep doing this. I WON'T keep doing this, Alexander!”

  “What the hell does that mean? You don't want to be with me because of Him?”

  “No! I don't want to do this anymore with you because you’re the one I'm supposed to trust, and I don't trust you because you won't tell me what you know, or what you did. And if I can't trust you, then we have nothing left. You've never hurt me, but I keep learning more and more I didn't know about you, and I feel like I can't trust you, and I always did trust you because you proved to me you wouldn't hurt me, but you keep hurting me. And this weekend of reality has been awful and exhausting, and I don't love you enough to fake it if you won't be honest with me.”

  “So that's it? I don't know what happened to Him, but I'm sure He won't be back for you, and that's enough to make you not love or trust me? That's all it takes after the years we've been together and the life we've built together? That's all it takes for you to not want to be with me anymore?!”

  “Yes. That's all it takes,” I say shocking us both I think. Actually, I AM shocked. I never thought I would want to live without Alex. I love him, and he makes me happy, and he forgives all the disgusting in my past, and he loves Jamie, and he's happy with our lives which I love. And I don't want to be a single mom, and I don't want to live alone anymore, and I love Alex, but I don't want to be like this anymore.

  “I don't think I trust you because you won't tell me what you did.”

  “But I didn't do anything!” Alexander yells at me, while shaking my chair with his hand.

  “You did!” I scream in our garage. Screaming, I push his hand away and jump up. Standing, I look down at Alexander and I want to beat the shit out of him I'm so frustrated. I don't even care that he's 6 foot and I'm 5 foot 2. I don't care that he's all fit and muscular, and I'm an ugly, emaciated waif at the moment. I don't care that he could defend himself without so much as a scratch landing on him, I still want to beat the shit out of him! I want to hurt him, and I'm shaking with the need to hurt him.

  “Don't even think about it, Sadie. I'm not the bad guy here. I'm your husband and I love you.”

  “I can do whatever I want! And I know you know more than you're telling me!” I yell as I lunge for him.

  But as I knew would happen, I am quickly subdued. I am twisted and thrown back into my lounge chair, even as it almost tips over to the side. With his hands holding my arms, and his lower body pressed against my legs, I am completely subdued again.

  “Do it!” I spit in his face. “Take me, Alex! Why not? Fuck me like they did!”

  “Holy Fuck, Sadie! You've really lost your fucking mind this time!” He yells back into my face. “Sit there! And don't fucking move! Just light another fucking smoke and sit there! I mean it! If you fucking move out of that chair, you'll see me really fucking pissed! Do you understand?!”

  “Yup! Take your time, Alexander! You fucking murdering asshole! I know exactly what you did!” I scream as he releases my arms.

  Shaking his head, he storms back for the house, but not before threatening me again.

  “Don't you fucking move, Sadie, or else you'll see what a murdering asshole I can be!” And then he throws the garage door open as it slams against the inside wall.

  And I don't move. Just the novelty and shock of Alexander's anger is enough to keep me seated. I called him out, and I can't wait for this to end. No matter how it ends, I'll just be glad it’s over. I'll miss my baby boy forever, but I need this to all be over. And even though things are looking really bad for me, I can still strangely admit I don't think Alexander would ever hurt Jamie.

  Ironically, I think whatever Alexander does to me, he would never do to Jamie. I just hope I gave Jamie enough good memories of me that he'll never forget how much his mommy loved him. Crying, I hope Jamie knows how much I have loved him from the moment he was placed on my chest 6 years ago. I hope he always remembers me with love.

  Still crying, I jump when Alexander walks back into the garage.

  Staring at his face of rage, I feel my tears fall faster down my face, even as I lift my hand for one last drag of my smoke. And the scene is suddenly very funny to me. I feel like I'm actually smoking my last cigarette like a death row last request. It's too bad I didn't have time to request my last meal though- toast with Alexander's thick sticky syrup.

  Suddenly laughing. I find this whole thing beyond my ability to cope with. If I had a knife I'd slit my legs to release the pressure. If I had alcohol, I'd drink until I was numb and didn't care. If I had pills I'd down them until I passed out.

  But at least I have my smokes with me.

  “Pick up your journal,” he barks. And I do. “Look in the back,” he yells again, and I open it quickly. Skimming through, I see nothing but my last entry from the night before our wedding.

  Impatiently, Alexander grabs the book from my hands, and flips to the end. Opening the journal wider, he places 2 pieces of paper against the missing edge, and I'm stunned.

  “Read it,” he suddenly whispers and in that change of his voice alone I am blindsided by my panic.

  Looking back up at Alexander, he hands me my smokes again and moves to lean against the wall with his arms crossed against his chest and his eyes looking downward.

  So I read.

  CHAPTER 36

  But the torn out page is blank but for one stain and one sentence.

  “Today the stranger died before he killed me.”

  Flipping the page quickly, I see a stain of lips on the middle of the second page with only one sentence below.

  “But I kissed you goodbye... stranger.”

  Looking at the lips, I'm sure they're mine. I'm sure they're the same shape as my own. I'm sure this is my kiss on the page. But I've never worn brown lipstick in my life.

  Looking at Alexander I breathe my confusion of reality in this moment.

  “I don't understand...”

  Shaking his head, Alex finally raises his head and stares at me. Staring at me in silence, I find I can't breathe. I don't understand any of this, and I don’t understand the look on Alexander’s face.

  “I found Him in the septic tank of the old house, Sadie,” Alexander whispers again while choking up.

  “What?! What do you mean?”

  “I mean, when Chris and I were in that shitty old basement trying to figure out what the hell reeked down there, I found Him in the septic tank.”

  “Why? What did you do to Him?”

  “Sadie, you need to think for a minute,” Alex says very calmly. “You need to really think about this. I let you pretend you didn't know until the nightmares stopped, and then I think you really didn't know after that. I think you forced yourself to forget Him because you needed to not know what happened. I don't know. But now I need you to think really hard. I need you to remember so we can get back to normal. I need you to remember what happened so you stop thinking I did something wrong. Because I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't do anything but clean up what YOU did.”

  Gasping, I'm in shock at his accusation. “What I did? I didn't do anything!”

  “Yes, you did. You did this. Not me. I did nothing but clean up afterward. And you need to remember Sadie so you let this go once and for all.”

  When Alexander walks toward me and crouches in front of me, he takes my face into his hand and forces me to look at him. I know my eyes are wide, and I know my mouth is open. I know I'm breathing heavily and shaking uncontrollably. I know there's more, but all I see is Alexander’s beautiful eyes in front of me.

  “I found Him in the septic tank, Sadie. Do you remember that?” And shaking my head, I know I don't reme
mber. “Think Sadie. You freaked out for 2 weeks. You were a fucking mess. You acted so deranged, I hated even leaving Jamie with you, but somehow I still trusted you wouldn't hurt Jamie when I went to work. Do you remember those 2 weeks?” And shaking my head I know I don't remember. “You were so messed up. And you were still moaning for Him in your sleep, but you were screaming out and crying as well. You were horrible, and I didn't know what to do. I was exhausted from the nightly rituals with you. I was exhausted and so tired of all the drama at night with you. We starting fighting every night after you woke up, and you wouldn’t tell me what was wrong, but you kept saying it was over between us, over and over again and I didn't understand why. And I fought you back and told you we weren't over and we would make it. And I thought you were just losing it because you had started working a week before and I thought you couldn't handle being without Jamie, so I tried to make you quit working. I tried to make you quit but you argued we needed the money, which we did. You were so screwed up at night, but totally lucid in the days when we’d talk. Do you remember those 2 weeks?” And shaking my head no, I know I don't remember.

  “Think! Please, baby... Think about it. That was when you freaked out on my mom and called her a kidnapper and a murderer. That was when you totally lost it on her in the street. Do you remember that day?” And nodding my head, I know I remember that day.

  “That was when you got better though. After my mom calmed you down and we decided we would sell the house, you calmed right down. You still cried a lot at night, but I thought it was just the change in our circumstances. You've never handled change well, and I thought because you had to go to work for a few hours a day you were struggling. Do you remember that?” And nodding, I know I remember that. I WAS struggling with being away from Jamie. I hated it.