“Ivy . . . are you alright?” The doorknob rattles. “Babe, why is the door locked?”
I wipe my face with a cold, damp washcloth and take a deep shaky breath. “I’m not feeling well. Go to bed.”
“Can I get you anything? Unlock the door. I don’t want you locked in the bathroom while you’re sick.”
Still sitting on the floor in front of the toilet, I reach over and unlock the door, and he immediately comes in and stands over me.
“What’s wrong?” He squints at me in the bright light of the bathroom. “You were fine a little while ago. Did you eat something bad?”
No. I married something bad.
Concern is all over his face, and it looks sincere, causing my stomach to turn again at the thought of how long he’s been lying to me. Right to my face. I vomit again, and he takes a step backward. My head spins round and round. He loves her. He misses her. She loves him. Friday night. He’s supposed to love me. Only me.
Earlier, he mentioned having to work late tomorrow night. He’s been working nights and weekends for a long time, leaving me and the kids here alone.
He was with her.
Of course.
As I kneel on the floor and wretch, more signs flood through my mind like evil flash cards. Strange expenses on our credit cards. Long nights at the office. A short temper with the children. Lack of interest in sex. Avoiding family outings.
My stomach heaves again.
“Ivy, you’re worrying me. You never get sick.” He fills a small paper bathroom cup with water and hands it to me. “Try to drink a little water.”
Taking the cup, I peer up at him and start to sob. I have loved Paul for eighteen years, and never once in all that time have I ever doubted him in any way. Not once.
Confusion shrouds his face. “Are you crying? What’s wrong?”
“I heard you.” My voice is a wretched whisper, my throat raw from dry heaving.
“Heard me what?”
“You, while you were downstairs on the phone.” I swallow back the acid in my mouth. “With another woman.”
His skin pales, and his hand goes to clutch the back of his head like he does when he’s mad or upset. “Fuck.” He closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them slowly to meet mine. “You were eavesdropping on me?”
I stare at him in disbelief. “Are you serious? That’s all you can say? No, I wasn’t eavesdropping. I saw the phone light up and thought one of the kids was calling somebody.”