The Lies That Bind(76)

    “Of course I was happy in the dressing room. What girl wouldn’t be happy trying on gowns at Vera Wang while planning a wedding with a wonderful man she loves?”

“Okay. Attagirl,” he says, repositioning his head on the pillow. “So focus on that right there. Focus on that wonderful-man-you-love part. And the baby you’re carrying. That is his.”

“I am, Scottie. And I’m truly happy about both….”

I start to say more, but stop myself, and simply tell Scottie that he’s right. That I’m talking crazy, and we should both go back to sleep for a little while longer. He closes his eyes and says okay, and a few minutes later, he’s snoring again.

But the urge to talk to Byron doesn’t subside. Remembering that Amy gave me his email address the day I first met her, I quietly get up, tiptoe over to my desk, and find it in a drawer. My heart racing, I sit down to compose an email to him. The words come slowly and painfully at first, but gradually start to flow.

When I’m finished, I sit back and read it, make a few edits, then send it, feeling breathless but sure:


Dear Byron,

I am so sorry for your loss. I know how close you and Grant were, and I just can’t fathom your pain. I would have offered my condolences sooner, but given the circumstances of our meeting in London, as well as all that I’ve learned about Grant since his passing, I didn’t feel right about contacting you.

In short, I had no idea Grant was married until I met Amy after 9/11. Since that time, she and I have developed an unexpected friendship, adding another layer to all of this. I have not told her anything about my relationship with Grant, as it feels cruel to burden a widow with any additional grief that would come from knowing she had been betrayed.

     I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do, but after struggling with these questions for weeks now, I felt compelled to reach out to you with the hope that you might be able to shed some light. That there might be something your brother would want me to know? If I don’t hear back from you, I understand. I know this is the least of your worries. I’m so sorry for all that you are going through.

Sincerely yours,

Cecily





* * *



—

When Scottie wakes up later that morning, I start to confess what I did. But I stop myself. It really feels like something I need to handle alone. Besides, it’s too late—the message is sent.

I don’t check my email again until much later that day, after Scottie and my family have left for the airport and I’m feeling that sad—and a little lost—way I always feel when family leaves. I don’t anticipate a response from Byron—for a lot of reasons—but I’m still nervous as I sit down at my computer. It suddenly occurs to me that an email from Amy could await me, saying she’s been apprised of my correspondence by her brother-in-law.

My hands shaking, I open my inbox and see a boldface Byron Smith. I can hardly breathe as I click to open the awaiting message, then read:


Dear Cecily, I don’t know where to begin. I know my brother kept secrets from you, and that must feel awful, but I want you to know that it was never about having his cake and eating it, too. It was more complicated than that. He was going through a lot of really difficult things in his marriage and, sadly, heading toward divorce while he was also trying to take care of me. Then he met you and his world turned upside down. In a good way. He should have told you the truth, but he was too afraid of losing you before he even had you. He na?vely thought he could figure it all out and save everyone. It didn’t work out like that. So here we are. I wouldn’t blame you if you hated him, but I hope one day you can forgive him. More important, I hope you go on to have a good and happy life. From everything my brother told me, you deserve the very best. Byron



    I finish reading, stunned by the answers he’s given me, even as my head swirls with fresh questions. I type as fast as I can:


Dear Byron,

Thank you so much for your reply. I know you’re going through so much right now, so it means a lot that you would take the time and energy to respond. I still have questions, though, and I’m hoping you can answer them. Did Amy know they were headed toward divorce? Did she know he was seeing someone? Was he ever going to tell me the truth, and if so, when? Thank you for any answers you can give me.

Cecily

Cecily,

Yes, Amy knew that was the path they were on. But no, she didn’t know about you. (And I agree it’s best for her not to know—as much for your sake as hers.) He was going to tell you the truth about everything the last night he saw you. But it was so late, and you weren’t feeling well, so he decided it could wait another day. You know the rest….I’m sure if he could go back, he would do things differently. A lot of things.

Byron

Byron,

Thank you for your answers to my questions, which must seem trivial in light of what you’re enduring. Please know that I’m thinking of you and hoping you find some solace in the woods.

Love,

Cecily





My email exchange with Byron very easily could have thrown me into a tailspin. Instead, it brings me another dose of closure—final closure, I hope.

So the following day, when Amy calls and asks if she can drop by my office, I say of course, ready to forge ahead with wedding plans—and also test my fresh resolve on the Grant front.