Lies Left Unsaid

Vivian

I knew that this moment would one day come, but now that it was finally here, I felt totally unprepared. I was in a panic over the idea that my husband might find out about Terry's and I's affair, which seemed odd since, for years, I had hoped he would discover it on his own. I know I seem like a terrible person, but there are always two sides to every story, yet no one wanted to hear mine. I was the wife with the beautiful home and the beautiful children, who cheated on her loving husband. That's what the outside world saw, but it couldn't be further from the truth. I was tired of going unnoticed, of being left behind while he traveled to exotic locations, and entertained clients with extravagant dinners and drank expensive wine. When he was home, all of his attention was on the girls. I merely existed in the background. He barely noticed as I begin drinking earlier and earlier in the day, and by the time he did take note, I was too far-gone to care. 

I never intended to cheat, although I wonder how many people actually do. It was Terry who came on to me, which I'm sure no one will believe. After all, he's the intelligent, good-looking wealthy doctor and I'm the alcoholic administrative assistant. What would he want with me? The things is, I wasn't always this way. I used to be vibrant and vivacious and fun. That's the Vivian I remember; the one before I got pregnant and became a housewife. Everyone thinks that's the dream, but what happens when that dream is your reality and you don't feel fulfilled? Once I acquired the title "mom" it seemed like my old self just disappeared somewhere into the abyss. I was supposed to be completely satisfied by being someone's mother, by being at my children's beck and call. But I never felt complete just being a mom. I was meant to be something else, something more, and when Terry took notice, it felt like he saw that in me. Suddenly, I wasn't just someone's mom. I was Vivian. I was desirable, and it was a feeling I hadn't felt for a very long time. 

So why cheat, you ask? Why not get divorced? Is it wrong to say that I was comfortable in my life, that I didn't want to give it up? That probably sounds callous, but no one thinks twice when a man cheats. The wife is expected to forgive, to try and work it out. So many men want to have their cake and eat it too. And they're able to. That's what Terry wanted, yet somehow I knew that if people found out about our affair, he would be the martyr and I, the slut. Societies double standard for men versus women was an exhausting game, which I no longer cared to play. 

I stayed with Phillip because it was easier than not being with him. Even when things were difficult, nothing seemed more difficult than a divorce. And of course, there were the children. And while many may think I'm the world's worst mother, I loved my children in my own way and they knew it. They had no idea how lucky they had it. Not everyone gets to grow up with a silver spoon in their mouth. If Caitlyn and Avery knew for a second what I had endured when I was younger, then maybe they would have showed me a little sympathy, given me some slack. But when you're an adult, no one cares about how you got to be where you are or why you are who you are. Society wants you to be a certain way and doesn't care to factor in all the reasons why you might not fit the mold. Still, I tried my best to play the role of the beautiful doting housewife and mother. It was exhausting trying to appear perfect when my life was spinning out of control. But I couldn't help myself. I had an incessant need to have the world see me a certain way and so I would continue to present my fictitious facade to the world no matter how torn up I was inside. 

It's hard to even say this aloud, but for a brief moment, a very brief moment, there was a part of me that was relieved when Caitlyn went missing. She had been the catalyst for my drinking for the past several years. Her behavior and her relentlessness to make life insufferable were draining. The second that the thought entered my mind though, I immediately felt a tremendous amount of guilt. She was my baby; the girl who made me a mom, and no matter what she did or how much she hated me, there would always be a special place in my alcohol soaked heart for her. I just hoped that they would find her soon, so that the joy of her return could fill my broken heart, instead of the vodka. It seemed the longer she was gone, the more likely I was to become a Stepford wife zombie. But while so much of my life was spiraling out of control, there was one thing I would always be in charge of: my reputation, no matter how hard some people wanted to try and tarnish it. If the detectives decided to share my affair with the world, then they were in for a ride, and they'd better buckle up, because it was going to get bumpy.