Missing Like You

SIXTY-ONE

ISABELLE DONOVAN
FRIDAY JULY 1, 2022

It was my idea. The whole thing was my idea.

That night, last September, ten months ago.

After I left Scott sitting in the kitchen to think about everything, I went upstairs to pack a bag. I rifled through drawers, mindlessly tossing t-shirts and shorts into a bag. I was crying ferociously, heavy tears streaming down my face. I couldn't come to terms with the fact that this was actually happening to me. It's such a cliché. Your doting husband who you love more than anything, having an affair and destroying your marriage. It was everything I feared and loathed, but never thought would happen to me. Scott never presented any doubts or apprehensions in our marriage. To my knowledge, everything was fine with us. All of our friends always noted how happy we were together. We were happy together. So why would he do this?

I finished packing, my brain a tsunami of thoughts that I couldn't even acknowledge then. My plan was to go to Kate's, talk everything through with her (she had always been my voice of reason), maybe drink enough alcohol to sedate myself, then go to sleep and attempt to forget about everything that had just happened. Only that's not how the rest of the evening played out.

I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed downstairs. Scott was still in the same spot that I had left him, seated sombrely at the kitchen table. He looked up at me and we locked eyes. I almost didn't say anything. I almost turned my back and headed out the front door. Oh how differently things would have turned out if I would have simply done this. But something stopped me – an idea.

"What are you going to do about it?" I said to him as I walked back into the kitchen, setting my bag down on the table to rest it.
"About what? Lexie?"
"Yes. What do you plan on doing to fix this?"
"I don't know. Talk to her, I guess? I'm not sure what harm she can cause now though. I've taken away her ammunition. She has nothing left."
I stared at him, thinking. "It's not over that easily," I said. "She may have fucked with you, but don't forget that she also fucked with me. Lying to me, pretending to be my friend..." I paused. "I want to talk to her myself. She needs to be put in her place."
Scott looked taken back by my statement. "What do you want to say to her?"
"I haven't figured it out yet. I'll know when I see her."
I picked up my phone and before I could think it through any further, I dialed her number. She picked up on the third ring.
"Allie, hi. Do you think you could come back over? I need your help with something."
She paused for a moment before answering. "Is everything okay?"
"Not really. How fast can you get here?"
"I'll leave now."
"Thank you."
I hung up the phone, pulled out a chair, and sat down. Scott stared at me. "What are you doing?"
"We need to settle this," I told him. "Now."

He looked visibly uncomfortable. I didn't blame him. He was about to be in a room with his wife and his mistress, for the second time tonight, but this time, the truth was out. And I was ready to let her know that.

She arrived shortly after 9:30 p.m. A quick ring of the doorbell indicated me of her presence and I quickly made my way to the door, shushing Zeppelin as she barked loudly, announcing to everyone in the neighborhood that we had company.

I opened the door and there she was. Allie. My friend from Pilates. This girl I had become acquainted with over such a short period of time. Except all of that had been a lie.

"Iz," she said my name softly, a hint of worry to her voice. "You okay?"
"Come in," I opened the door wider and she stepped inside, Zeppelin going crazy behind us. I closed the door, locked it, then grabbed the dog to calm her down.
She stared at me, waiting for me to begin speaking. "Care for something to drink?" I said imperturbably. "Tea, coffee, gin?"
"Uh, a tea would be fine."
I started walking to the kitchen, Lexie following close behind, Zeppelin at her heels. I trained my baby well, always alert when someone wasn't welcome. But that's the thing – Lexie was welcome. But not for the right reasons.
Scott was seated at the kitchen table. His face was pale and he looked distraught upon our entrance. I headed straight for the kettle and turned it on. Lexie looked between the both of us, and I'll never know what she was thinking in that moment, but something tells me she knew what was about to happen.
"So," I said, bringing the mugs down from the cupboard and looking to my friend. "Allie. That's short for Alexandra, right?"
She studied me. "Yes."
"Ever go by any other nicknames?"
She turned to Scott, who avoided eye contact.
"What about Lexie?" I suggested.
She seemed to visibly relax at this. Her shoulders sagged forward a tad, and she leaned back against the counter. That was when her demeanor changed, making a complete one-eighty. Suddenly, in a matter of seconds, Allie was gone, and Lexie had made her arrival.
"He told you," she said, grinning as she said it, as though this whole thing was funny to her.
"He did."
"Bravo to you, Scott," she said, looking at him. "I didn't think you had the balls to actually do it yourself."
He didn't answer her. She looked to me. "What did he tell you?"
"Everything."
"Everything?" she enunciated. "Every single detail?"
"Spare me."
She laughed at this, finding it amusing.
"All things aside," I said, reasserting dominance in the conversation. "The truth is out now. I know everything. Which means your little charade is over. You can go crawl back into whatever hole you came from and leave my husband and I alone. No more threats, no more stalking, no more pretending to be Allie from Pilates. It's over. All of it. You understand?"
"Listen, Isabelle, I truly am sorry. You're a lovely person and you don't deserve what Scott did to you. I'm sorry it had to come to this."
"You're sorry?" I said, just as the kettle stopped. I didn't bother getting the tea bags. No one would be drinking anything tonight.
"I am."
"What exactly are you sorry for? Fucking my husband? Lying to my face?"
"If anything, I was doing this to protect you. I wanted you to know the truth."
"If that was the case, then you would have told me the truth upon meeting me. Instead, you befriended me and tried to weasel your way into my life. No, this wasn't about me. This was about Scott. It's always been about Scott. You're obsessed with him."
"Please," she scoffed.
"Stalking, harassment..." I began listing things off. "We could have you charged."
"On what grounds?"
"Do you really not see the problem here? You're insane."
"I'm not insane."
"You are," Scott finally spoke.
Her head shot towards him. "Oh, really? Am I now? Funny coming from you. You didn't think I was insane all those time we –"
"Stop," I said, cutting her off. I closed my eyes and tried to breathe.
"I'm not insane," she said again. "I'm just a girl who's lost everything. This was the tipping point. You did this to me, Scott. This is your fault."
"Oh, it's my fault?" he said to her. "Just my fault? I'm pretty sure it takes two, Lexie, so why don't you own up and start taking responsibility for your actions. It's not just my infidelity we're debating here. You're guilty as well."
"Right, yes. My husband and our wonderful marriage."
"Should we invite him over as well?" I said cavalierly.
She turned to me. "My husband is irrelevant in all of this."
"No, he's really not," Scott said. "He has every much a right to know as Isabelle does. And since you decided to involve my wife, why don't we involve your husband?"
"You know very well how that would end," she said, eyeing Scott.
He didn't respond after that, and I wasn't sure why. It wasn't until later, after everything was done and over, that Scott would reveal to me what she meant. That was how I learned of her husband's abuse. But by that point, it was already much too late.
It was me who pushed the subject further, not knowing the consequences. "Scott's right," I said to her. "Either you give him a call and invite him over right now, or I will."
She stared at me, her eyes in slits. "Don't threaten me."
I laughed. "Oh, so now you're choosing who can and cannot dish out threats? I really don't see any other way to settle this ordeal. If you can ruin my marriage," I said to her, my final words to Lexie Chambers, "Then I can ruin yours."