16. Hannah
Chapter sixteen
Hannah
T hat crazy fucker stalked me, scared me, then kissed the shit out of me before leaving and making me even more confused in his stead.
But honestly? More aroused and attracted than I've ever felt before.
And I still have his clothes I need to hide from Alan before I dry clean. But do I really need to hide it? The bitter part of me wants to leave it on display. But honestly, I just don't want the drama.
The next day is Viv's ninth birthday party.
I called up Amelia to take the kids to an early movie while I decorated the house for the party.
Viv's best friend Erin will be here, but the rest are just classmates. Big, elaborate birthday parties are also part and parcel of the upper-class production of our lives. Every year the wives try to both out-do last year's party as well as everyone else's parties.
This year, I'm not so worried about that, but more about hosting a party Vivy won't get teased for next week at school. Balloons, ribbons, a 'happy birthday sign' and an inflatable bouncy house in the backyard. Viv's not big on decorations, so I'm sure it'll all be good for her.
I'm a hot, sweaty mess by the time Amelia and the kids come back. Jack squeals and runs to the bouncy house outside.
"Why don't you go shower, Mom, and I'll keep an eye on them." Amelia offers. Gratefully, I take her up on her offer .
I shower as quickly as I can, throwing my wet hair up in a messy bun. I swear those women who can put together a birthday party and host in heels and pearls are another breed.
A breed I no longer have any interest in becoming.
The doorbell rings and Amelia answers it, greeting my guests with a charming smile, just as I hit the bottom of the stairs.
I wrap my arm around her shoulders. "Tell Matty to give you a raise."
We both chuckle. Amelia offers to help for the rest of the party and I'm stunned that it never occurred to me to ask for or hire help for these parties. Would make my life 100x easier.
I never think of ways to make my life easier. There's a warning or a lesson in that realization, I'm sure, but I'll have to worry about it another day.
I turn back to the kitchen to pull out the fruit and veg trays I bought from Whole Foods, but when I turn back around I almost drop them.
Walking through the front door is Alan...and his mistress, Kathleen.
The wave of emotion that hits me causes my lungs to seize and my heart to clench painfully. I don't love Alan. I'm not sure I ever did, even if young, naive me thought he hung the moon. But this? This blatant disrespect, the blatant show of power? The fact that he can flaunt his mistress at his own daughter's party and I can't do anything about it. It's gutting.
I ignore the overwhelming clusterfuck that is my emotions right now and plaster my fake smile on so I can play the perfect hostess .
Until I think about her talking to my children. The mama bear in me wants to pull her out by her hair before I let her talk to my kids. But, she's holding a present for Viv. Logically, I know she wouldn't do anything or say anything to hurt them. Which is more than I can say for Alan. I'll pull Amelia aside and ask her to keep an eye on Kathleen. A step out of line and I have no problem kicking her out.
Maybe I could invite one of the guys over. Tit for tat. I scoff. The petty bitch in me would love that, but I'd only be inviting drama.
But damn that would feel good.
Alan and Kathleen make their way through the house to the backyard. Alan doesn't spare me a glance but Kathleen at least has the decency to shoot me an apologetic look. At least she has the common sense to know what a fucked up scenario this is.
That is until I catch my mom's face when she sees Alan and Kathleen. Her lip curls in a snarl of disgust, but then it's directed towards me and disgust mixes with pity and disappointment. As if it's somehow my fault Alan brought his mistress.
I'm sure this is retaliation for the picture of Matty and me. Fuck it, let him play his stupid mind games. I couldn't care less what every single person here thinks besides my kids.
I'm able to entertain guests inside so I don't have to see Alan and Kathleen.
An hour into the party and it's time to cut the cake so hopefully we can hurry this shit along and kick everyone out.
I peek in the backyard but don't see Alan. I check the driveway and front yard, before heading upstairs. I hear them before I see them. They're fucking. In my bed.
Anger and hurt and some emotion I 'd rather not name settles deep in my stomach like acid.
A glutton for punishment, I open the door to our bedroom. Alan's pale ass is first to greet me. Next is Kathleen's legs up against his shoulders.
Kathleen sees me first and gasps, freaking out. She pushes against Alan in an attempt to shove him off. He doesn't relent, though, merely peaking over his shoulder at me, continuing to piston his hips into his mistress.
Disgust and repulsion lace my voice when I say, "Your daughter is waiting for you to blow out her candles."
Kathleen covers her face in horror.
My lovely husband, on the other hand, says, "I'll be down when I'm finished."
Christ. What a piece of work. I give Kathleen a sympathetic look. She may be getting money and a free apartment, but she has to put up with his narcissistic ass.
On a huff, I close the door behind me, walk to the stereo, and crank up the music so that hopefully no one hears them. Thankfully, no one seems to notice.
The adrenaline of catching my husband fucking his mistress wears off and I can't help the shaking. I find Amelia and ask her to take over for a minute. I need to catch my breath.
She sees the obvious panic in my eyes and of course, agrees. Bless her she doesn't ask questions.
I grab my phone and go to the garage. I sit on an old bucket of baseballs and stare at my phone. I want to call the guys. I want their comfort, the peace they bring me. I want their love and affection.
It's so easy with them. They're attracted to me without reserve. They want nothing more than to treat me and my kids right, and I keep throwing up obstacles for them.
No. I'm not ready to talk to them about this. One, they would probably kill Alan. Two, I'm faintly aware that tonight changes things. I've been trying to do right. I'm not a cheater. I was content letting Alan have his cake and eat it too. But the first time I do something for myself, like go to the club, and this is his retaliation? This isn't having his cake and eating it too. This is the biggest 'fuck you' I could imagine.
I just need to get through tonight. Celebrate Viv's birthday, finish the party, and get my kids in bed. I can fall apart or worry about what this means tomorrow. I just need to get through today.
Settled, I head back out to the party.
Alan and Kathleen join us a few minutes later, making it obvious what they'd been doing. Kathleen's hair is all fucked up and Alan didn't bother tucking his shirt back in.
Because what's the point of fucking your mistress in front of your wife if everyone around doesn't know it?
Luckily, the kids have no idea what's going on. Jack and Viv are riding high on sugar and party vibes, and even Aiden's friend Eli came over, so the two of them have been hanging out, laughing.
The only one with an inkling that something is wrong is Amelia. I'm sure I owe her an explanation. I'll just have to text it to her later.
We all sing 'Happy Birthday', Viv blows out the candles, Amelia and I pass out the cake, Viv opens a million presents, and finally people start to make excuses to leave.
Alan and Kathleen leave shortly after the cake, Thank God.
Some of the adults give me pitying looks, but honestly? I can't be bothered. My husband's a douche, but my three gangsters are anything but. That thought puts a smile on my face.
As the night wears down, I can tell Jack and Viv are overstimulated. Aiden's friend spends the night, and Amelia helps me to wrangle Jack and Viv during the night-time routine.
I give her a tight hug and a heartful thanks for her help on her way out. She gives me a look saying 'This isn't over' and I know I owe her an explanation in the morning. Right now, though, I'm bone tired.
I lock up behind her and walk to my bedroom.
It still smells like sex, and my stomach churns.
I can't sleep here tonight.
So I shuffle my tired feet to Vivian's room. My miracle baby. We almost didn't survive her birth. And we did it alone. Alan couldn't be bothered to come, even when the nurse texted him that things were going south. That should have been my last red flag, but I wrapped myself up in motherhood and my children, convinced that I was happier as a married single mom.
The emotions of the day simmer under my skin like ants and my brain is a whirling dervish, unable to pick any one thought and stick with it through completion.
I knew Alan was cheating on me. He has been for years. Likely, with multiple partners. It upset me at first, naturally, but when I really processed my feelings, I realized that I didn't have a broken heart. My ego took a hit, obviously, and I mourned the perfect life I had always imagined for myself, but I didn't really love Alan.
When we first started dating, I was very fond of him. We'd basically grown up together, and he was a decent guy. He cared, put in the effort to woo me, proposed, and we married. But as the years progressed, I realized I felt the same way if he was home or at work. I didn't miss him when he was gone. It's not like I couldn't get enough of him when he was home. He just was there, or he wasn't. But all marriages fall into a comfortable routine, right?
And after I mourned my happily-ever-after, I realized I would never divorce him. I wouldn't share custody of my kids. I didn't want to split my time. So, if a little infidelity was all I had to deal with to keep my beautiful home, to not have to work and to keep my kids close, I accepted it. Most men in our circles stepped out of their marriage, I just thought maybe we were different...or I had a little more time.
Tonight crossed a line, though. I just wasn't sure what it meant.
Bringing his mistress to his daughter's birthday party? What the fuck was he thinking? It's almost as if he's daring me to divorce him. Or trying to hurt me by parading around a younger, prettier, skinnier woman? What had I done to offend him so much? I'd ignored his infidelity for years. Gave him the perfect home, family, and image. Perfect picket-fence life, right?
Maybe I wasn't pretty enough arm candy anymore, but I knew how to charm the upper-class members of society when we had to go to functions together. I always talked him up, made him look good, and made connections where my family was involved.
Does he want me to divorce him? I can't imagine that he does, he'll have to pay a hell of a lot of alimony and child support. Is he bluffing? Showing off what he can get away with?
And fucking her in my bed, with me just a few rooms away? At his daughter's birthday party?
The balls on that man. He didn't even stop when he got caught. Just yelled at me as he kept pumping.
I roll my eyes. Jesus.
If that wasn't a 'fuck you' to me, then I don't know what would be. How could he have so little regard for me? His friend? His wife? The mother of his children?
I have no idea what's going through his head, but I can't let something like today happen again. I won't let him ruin any of our kids' birthdays because he has some vendetta against me. I don't want that harpy anywhere near my children. Sure, his show today was embarrassing to me, for the people who knew, but after you push a screaming baby from your hoo-ha in front of an audience, you don't have a ton of pride left.
I'm more concerned about the effect on my kids. Did Viv notice her dad was missing for some of it? Did Aiden? Did Aiden notice the looks his dad was shooting at a strange woman? Did he pick up on the woman and why she was there when she was not a parent or a friend of a friend?
I'm not concerned with Jack. He's so into his own thing, that he doesn't notice much else, but Aiden's my observer, far older than his ten years, and Viv's my sensitive soul. She feels with her entire being.
Something's got to give. I can't have the two of them showing up to school concerts or birthday parties like they're an item. I can't have her forcing herself onto my family, my children, while they still think we're happily married.
Except I know I'm fooling myself. They already know we 're not.
And maybe I would have been for a long time if three incredibly handsome, thoughtful, incredible men hadn't barreled into my life and shown me a different way.
I take in Viv's pink and unicorn bedroom. I smile at myself. I have a hard time telling any of my children 'no', so when Viv shows me a Unicorn stuffed animal or bedspread, I've never told her 'no'. They're such small things and they make her so happy.
But I love who Viv has become. She's pink and tiaras and unicorns but with a spine of steel. I can see her running for political office or becoming a lawyer. She's as tough as she is girly, and part of me really envies her ability to be uniquely herself.
I lay in bed behind her, wrapping my arm around her the way we used to co-sleep when she was a baby. I may not know what's going on with my marriage, or the three men I seem to be creating an intimate relationship with...but right now? My babies are happy, healthy, and safe.
And that's enough.