Gary was still waiting on the porch when I returned.
He had placed his golf clubs against the wall.
One suitcase stood upright.
The other was lying on its side.
He looked comfortable.
That was the strangest part.
He looked as though he had every right to be there.
"Well?"
He raised his eyebrows.
I looked at him.
"Well, what?"
"Are we going to stand here all night?"
I didn't move.
He gave a tired sigh.
"Debbie, please. I've had enough trouble already."
I wondered how many times he had used that sentence during the last four months.
Perhaps it worked on his girlfriend.
Perhaps it had worked on other people.
But I wasn't interested in making his problems disappear.
"Where are you going to stay if you can't come here?"
He stared at me.
"I just told you. I'm coming home."
"You keep saying that."
"Because it's true."
I looked toward the street.
Linda's house was only a short distance away.
Her car wasn't there yet.
I was glad.
I wanted a few more minutes to understand what Gary thought was happening.
He rubbed his forehead.
"She turned everything into an argument. I couldn't do anything right."
"Who?"
He looked at me impatiently.
"My girlfriend."
I nodded.
"Your girlfriend."
"Yes. She kept complaining about how I behaved. She said I was selfish."
I waited.
He looked at me as if I should be shocked.
"Can you believe that?"
I almost laughed.
"Did she tell you why she thought that?"
His expression changed.
"She never stopped telling me why."
That answer told me more than he intended.
Gary had always disliked being questioned.
During our marriage, he could turn a simple conversation into an argument simply because I wanted an explanation.
If I asked where he had been, I was being suspicious.
If I asked why he had changed his plans, I was making things difficult.
If I wanted him to help with something, I was demanding too much.
For years, I had learned to choose my questions carefully.
I had convinced myself that avoiding arguments was the same as having a peaceful marriage.
Looking back, that was one of the things I regretted most.
"Well," I said, "it sounds as though you two had plenty to discuss."
He shook his head.
"That's exactly what I don't need right now."
Then he looked through the open doorway again.
"Can I at least put my things inside?"
"No."
His mouth opened slightly.
"Debbie."
"Gary."
He stared at me.
I could tell he wasn't accustomed to hearing that answer.
He had spent years assuming that if he wanted something, I would eventually agree.
And for a long time, I had.
He reached for the suitcase handle.
"Fine. Just help me get this one through the door."
I didn't move.
He released the handle.
"You're making this much harder than it needs to be."
I thought about that sentence.
He had left our marriage.
He had moved in with another woman.
He had returned only because she no longer wanted him there.
Yet somehow, I was the one making things difficult.
I looked at him carefully.
"Gary, did you really think you could leave for another woman and then come back whenever she changed her mind?"
He looked down.
For the first time since arriving, he didn't have an immediate answer.
"I said I was sorry."
"You said you made a mistake."
"Isn't that the same thing?"
"No."
He shook his head.
I could see his patience disappearing.
Then his eyes moved toward the kitchen.
"You've changed things."
I followed his gaze.
The blue cabinets were visible from the doorway.
"Yes."
"When did you do that?"
"Last weekend."
He looked surprised.
"Blue?"
"That's right."
"You know I don't like blue."
I looked at him.
"I know."
He frowned.
"So why would you choose that color?"
I glanced at the cabinets.
Because I liked it.
Because I wanted it.
Because I was tired of choosing everything according to someone else's preferences.
But I didn't give him that explanation.
"I wanted something different."
He shook his head as though the answer disappointed him.
Then he noticed the new lock.
His expression changed.
"What's that?"
"A new lock."
"I can see that. Why did you change it?"
"You haven't lived here for four months."
He stared at the lock.
Then at me.
"You changed the locks without even telling me?"
I didn't answer.
He looked genuinely offended.
As though I had committed some personal betrayal by making a decision about my own front door.
It was strange how quickly he had forgotten that he had made a much bigger decision without asking me.
He had decided our marriage was over.
He had decided another woman was worth leaving for.
He had decided I could deal with the consequences.
But a new lock was apparently unforgivable.
"Can I have some water?" he finally asked.
I looked at him.
"Water?"
"Yes. Please."
I went inside and returned with a glass.
He accepted it.
"Thank you."
He took a drink.
Then he looked at me again.
"Can we talk about this properly?"
"About what?"
"Us."
I almost asked him which version of us he meant.
The married couple who had spent twenty-two years together?
The two people who had raised a son?
Or the man who had left and the woman who had spent four months learning to live without him?
Instead, I simply waited.
He lowered his voice.
"There's no reason to make this ugly."
I looked at him.
"You're right."
His shoulders relaxed.
I continued.
"That's why I'm trying to keep the conversation simple."
He didn't respond.
My phone rang.
Linda.
I glanced at the screen and stepped a little farther inside.
"Hello?"
Her voice sounded different now.
Less amused.
More serious.
"Debbie, I need to ask you something."
"What happened?"
"Why exactly did Gary come back?"
I looked toward the porch.
"His girlfriend threw him out."
"That's what he told you?"
"Yes."
Linda paused.
Then she spoke carefully.
"Carol told me something yesterday."
Carol was Linda's sister.
I knew her, but we weren't particularly close.
"What did she say?"
"Her friend Rachel has been having trouble with a man she was seeing. She recently threw him out after discovering that he'd been dishonest about his relationship."
I frowned.
"Dishonest how?"
"According to Rachel, he told her he had been divorced for two years."
I looked toward Gary again.
He was drinking his water.
"That sounds familiar," I said.
Linda lowered her voice.
"Does it?"
I didn't answer immediately.
She continued.
"Rachel has been staying with Carol. Apparently, she's very upset about what happened."
I tried to make sense of the information.
There were plenty of men who lied about their marriages.
There were plenty of relationships that ended badly.
But the timing was difficult to ignore.
"Do you think this is the same man?"
"I don't know yet."
Linda sounded thoughtful.
"I'm going to ask Carol if she can show me a photograph."
I tightened my grip on the phone.
"Linda, are you saying you think Rachel was seeing Gary?"
"I'm saying I want to be certain before I tell you anything."
I looked through the doorway.
Gary was now examining the hallway.
He was looking at the house as though he were inspecting something he had temporarily misplaced.
Linda spoke again.
"Just keep him outside for a little while."
I swallowed.
"All right."
"I'll call you as soon as I know."
Then she ended the call.
I stood there holding my phone.
Something had shifted.
Until that moment, I had believed the story was simple.
Gary had left me.
His new relationship had failed.
Now he wanted to return to the comfortable life he had abandoned.
It was selfish.
It was insulting.
But at least I understood it.
Now there was another possibility.
Had he told the other woman that our marriage was over?
Had he invented a different version of our life together?
Had he made himself look like the victim?
I remembered how easily he had blamed me for things during our marriage.
I remembered how he could explain away almost anything.
I didn't want to jump to conclusions.
But I couldn't ignore the possibility either.
Gary knocked on the doorframe.
"Debbie?"
I looked up.
"Yes?"
"Are you coming back?"
"I am here."
He held out the empty glass.
"Thanks. Now, can we talk?"
I took it from him.
"Certainly."
He seemed relieved.
Then I asked him something I hadn't planned to ask until that moment.
"How long had you been seeing her before you left?"
His expression changed immediately.
"What?"
"Your girlfriend. How long were you together before you moved out?"
He looked uncomfortable.
"Why does that matter?"
"Because you want me to pretend the last four months never happened."
He shifted his weight.
"I already told you I regret leaving."
"That's not what I asked."
He looked toward the street.
"Deb, can we not do this?"
I waited.
Then I asked another question.
"Did you tell her we were divorced?"
His hand stopped around the glass.
For several seconds, he didn't move.
I watched his face.
The confidence he had arrived with was disappearing.
"What are you talking about?"
I didn't raise my voice.
"You heard me."
He looked toward Linda's house.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Can we discuss this inside? Your neighbor doesn't need to hear everything."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Because she's always interfering."
I almost smiled.
That was an interesting complaint from a man who had arrived expecting me to reorganize my life around his latest problem.
"Answer the question, Gary."
He looked down at the glass.
Then he finally spoke.
"I told her we were separated."
I felt my stomach tighten.
Separated.
Not divorced.
Not happily married.
Separated.
It was a convenient word.
One that could mean almost anything depending on who was listening.
Before I could ask another question, my phone vibrated.
A message appeared.
Linda.
I opened it.
The message was short.
Carol has shown me Rachel's boyfriend. It's Gary. I'm bringing them over.
I read it once.
Then again.
My fingers went cold.
Gary was watching me.
"Who was that?"
I locked my phone.
"Linda."
"What does she want?"
I looked at him.
"She found something about your girlfriend."
His face changed.
Not gradually.
All at once.
"What does she know?"
I didn't answer.
For the first time that evening, Gary looked like a man who had no idea what was going to happen next.
And I knew that whatever he had told Rachel, I was about to hear another version of it.
Source: kaylestore.net
Click here to continue reading: PART 3: The Woman Who Had Replaced Me Finally Arrived, and the First Thing She Said Made Twenty-Two Years of My Marriage Look Different
He Arrived With His Suitcases Expecting Dinner, Never Realizing the Woman Waiting Behind That Door Was No Longer His Wife in the Same Way
Part 2 of 8
