Where Is The Edge

Chapter 20

May, 1997

Yes, I too am surprised that all this time has passed.

All the previous months were not the most extraordinary, as I had returned to that normality of my life where I got up to work, went back home to read a book or stroll around the city, letting spontaneity decide what I should do next.

Since the last time, I have not seen Marcia. She said she would forgive me when she was ready, but that day never came. Every day, I waited to hear from her, and even cancelled plans in case she called, until I stopped waiting.

Still, I couldn't discard that part of me that was her, so I risked writing her a letter irregularly just to let her know that I still cared. I didn't even expect a response, somehow, I just needed her to hear from me.

What distinguished this month from all the previous ones was the day when, as I walked into work, my attention was drawn to the front page of the local newspaper that was always on sale next to the counter along with the monthly magazines.

Phyllis Bowery faced trial, where they established that after half a year, she was eligible for a million dollar bail.

Half a year was very absurd, however, she was a woman of great power who could find the best lawyers on the continent, and although she was pleaded guilty, her sentence was minimal. It clearly cost her as much to post bail as it would cost me to buy a once cent candy.

The newspaper announced that half a year had passed, and as expected, she was released after paying the agreed bail.

I couldn't deny that I felt guilty that an innocent woman had to pay the consequences of something that was my doing, and my method of rationalization was to constantly tell myself that I would not have been as lucky. This was only a minor inconvenience to her compared to what could have happened to me.

I needed answers on many issues, and apparently so did she. So it was that suddenly, a week later, I was standing outside her door waiting to be answered.

Finally meeting her, face to face, was a strange feeling I never thought I would experience. I never imagined I would see her again, let alone of my own free will.

She was taller than me by a few inches, her hair was a bright red and her eyes were emerald green. Her presence exuded too much confidence, it was no surprise that she would take advantage of it to become CEO and make her name one of the most resonant in Los Angeles. She never needed to be "Peter Westerholt's wife", the name Phyllis Bowery alone would make anyone's hair stand on end.

"Would it make you feel a lot better if I told you that you don't look much like him?" Was the first thing she said to me, a smile on her face. That little joke made the whole atmosphere take on a spectacular lightness, making me feel a lot less nervous.

"What a relief that I don't look like that idiot," I laughed, walking into the large room. I'd be lying if I said it was a huge mansion that took up a whole block, but I'd also be lying if I said it was an average house. It was large enough to be called big.

"I hate detours, so we'll get to the point," she remarked, taking a seat on the living room couch, and with her head she gestured for me to do the same.

"Why did you accuse me?" I asked.

I didn't want to admit it right away, but, I went so many months without even being suspected, and suddenly, she somehow knew I had something to do with it.

"I found letters in Peter's office. These letters were from your mother, some recent, some from when you were just five years old. In them she asked him that she should at least support you financially, yet I don't think any of them were answered. When I saw the pictures, I immediately remembered the first time I saw you and you threatened him," she explained, with a slight blush on her face. "When they questioned me, they mentioned the multiple death threats and the capitulations. I guess, out of nerves, it occurred to me to mention you. Still, you were ruled out as a suspect and they came back for me. The real perpetrator got away with it."

"And why did you threaten his life, was it because of the capitulations?" I questioned.

"I couldn't care less about the capitulations. Before, during and after my relationship with that man, I have always been independently successful, I don't need his money, and that bothered him," the last sentence indicated that it would actually be the one that would trigger the truth. "He threatened me first, saying he would bankrupt my company if I ever asked him for a divorce. And my response was threats, where he and I knew I meant to have the concrete evidence of all the women he cheated on me with. Making all that public would ruin his reputation, therefore, his life. Unfortunately, these letters were taken the other way," she continued, and it made a hell of a lot more sense when she explained it from her side. "The affair he had with your mother was after a separation we had, so I don't want you to think you were the product of an illicit affair because you are more than that."

"I know I am more than that, which is why I can't stand the fact that he treated me as such," I confessed, and she bit her lip, her eyes turning grim. "Why did you marry him? You are beautiful and in this short time I can tell you have a heart of gold."

"Attachment," she replied simply. For some reason, she didn't explain more about it, for she somehow knew very well that I understood. And of course she understood, that word said so much on its own. "Getting divorced was perhaps the best act of self-love I have ever committed."

"It was a huge step, and maybe it will sound terrible, but discovering his infidelities was your sign to separate for good," I replied, and she nodded in agreement with me. "So, you never knew of my existence," I concluded.

"Oh! If I had known, I would have happily opened the doors of my home to you and been the best stepmother in the world," she smiled, taking my hands. "It's not too late for that, you can visit me as often as you want. My daughter, who is your half-sister, will adore you."

To say I felt lousy was an understatement.

I assumed that it was she who all this time had been influencing Peter not to see me, and I assumed it without proof, just refusing to accept that my father was a jerk all by himself.

The lies had to stop.

The last time I waited too long to tell the truth, I lost the woman I loved. I wasn't going to let this cycle repeat itself with my stepmother, who deserved to know the truth, and to whom I feel deeply indebted.

"What if I told you that I did kill him? And that even though I wasn't on the other side, I lost more than I would have lost in jail," I blurted out. It was always difficult, however, the truth told from the beginning was not as overwhelming as when it was repressed.

She opened her eyes wide.

In them, a glimpse of pride was palpable for having gotten the deduction that was always right, yet she looked surprised, perhaps a brief moment ago, she was beginning to believe that I didn't do it. It was better a brief moment and not so many months believing a falsehood about me.

"I... well, please don't give yourself away," she said after a few moments of silence. "It felt like a bad taste in my mouth, which is over now. That's what matters, it's over."

"I used to have the best lawyer, and she saved me, because she thought I was innocent. I lied to her, and there's not a day that goes by where I wish being able to turn back time and have told her the truth from the very first day we saw each other. Now I've lost her," I commented, avoiding her gaze because of the shame I felt. "I'm sorry for putting you in this situation."

"She just went on the evidence, and it was brilliant because no one would have thought of it that way," Phyllis laughed. "Both you and I had the wrong perception of each other, but we're at a point in our lives where we can start over, better than before," she rubbed my back in a comforting way. "I know a good restaurant where we can have dinner, would you like to join me and talk about that awesome lawyer?"