Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86741 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
“Affair?” He sounded completely confused. “What do you mean?”
“You weren’t still sleeping around with Melanie closer to when she passed away?”
He cleared his throat. “We were um . . . well, yes. We were sleeping together. But it only happened twice, and I regret it deeply. Roland doesn’t know about those two times.”
“Were you planning on being with her at all if she were to leave Roland?”
“Absolutely not!” he exclaimed. “Listen, I sorely regret what I did to Roland, especially when I found out that she died. I was eaten alive by guilt, but I never would have done that to him—be with her after she left him. Never. I got caught up in the moment with her again and she told me they were about to get a divorce and that she wouldn’t tell him we were sleeping around, so I did it. But I stopped it right away. She got angry with me because I wanted to end things, called me a coward, but I never spoke to her again after that. Please, Samira. Do not tell Roland. He is a great friend of mine and—and I care about him very much. I made a mistake and I shouldn’t have. Please, I’m begging you. I have a fiancée now. I can’t have her finding out about this either.”
I closed my eyes. I could hear the panic in his voice. And as much as I could have assumed that he did have something to do with it—or perhaps even corroborated—something in my gut told me he had nothing to do with Melanie and that cliff—that he was just a man in the middle of their mucky marriage. I believed him. He had nothing to gain by doing something to Melanie. Roland and Dylan, however, had a lot to lose. It all circled back to them.
“I won’t say anything, Felipe.” I turned to face the window. Melanie was right outside of it, staring at me, the blood dripping faster. My heart raced, and I closed my eyes. She’s not real. She’s not there.
“Thank you,” he sighed, relieved. “Why do you ask all of this anyway?”
“Just curious,” I said. I wasn’t going to tell him that I didn’t trust Roland—or that I thought he had something to do with Melanie’s passing.
“Okay.” He paused. “Even if I had taken such a risk to be with her, I don’t think it would have lasted. She was too hardcore for me,” said Felipe.
“Hardcore? What do you mean by that?”
“I just mean . . . well, while we did things, she liked to be called dirty names. I’m not sure why . . . but I didn’t like to say them. I’m more a lover, you see. So . . . her fetishes just weren’t for me.”
“I get it.”
“Okay. I have to go, but you won’t say anything about this?”
“I won’t, Felipe. You have my word.”
He sighed, relieved, we said goodbye, and then I hung up. When I looked at the window again, Melanie was gone.
I closed the contact book and left the office, going back to the shed and picking up where I left off.
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
It’s been a year and six months since the night in Hawaii. Roland is hardly ever home. Dylan moved the fuck out, thank God. I said it before, but I’m really thinking about buying an apartment and putting some distance between me and this place. I’ll miss my shed. My happy place. My escape.
If I leave, will Roland tear the shed down? I bet he would, just to spite me. Today I found the golf clubs I bought him for his birthday, broken in half in the garage. He broke them in a rage, I’m sure. I told him he deserved better. He has the choice to accept the fate of our marriage and let it go. Why does he allow himself to suffer like this?
* * *
It’s been five months since I’ve been seeing Dr. Walden. I feel better. Refreshed. Renewed. I don’t feel the need to write in here as much anymore. I’ve taken his advice into account. Roland won’t walk away from this marriage, and neither will I. He won’t acknowledge me and I’ve accepted that. It’s fine. Whatever. But he can’t get mad at me when I end up doing what I want.
I want to run off, fall in love with another man—someone who will cater to my every desire and give me everything I want. Someone who won’t hurt me or get angry with me when I express how I feel. Someone who will understand that I am the way I am and don’t really want to change it.
I have been thinking, maybe if I find someone else to be with, will he let this go? Let me run off with my mystery man to do what I please and forget about me? Divorce me so I’m not the bad guy here and the public doesn’t attack me? I don’t care about his money. I don’t need any of it. I just want to leave and not have any bad blood between us.