You Deserve to Know

by Aggie Blum Thompson

But everyone is welcome to their own version of the truth. That’s what’s so beautiful about the world today. Everyone has their own truth. What right has anyone to deny mine?

I’m going to paraphrase one of my favorite writers here, Anne Lamott. She said if you wanted me to write warmly about you, you should have behaved better.

If you recognize yourself in one of these characters, that’s between you and your therapist.

She learned that at marriage counseling. That was where she learned that it was her fault he had cheated. She had emasculated him. She had made him feel small.

Because Gwen knows that once you tell people that your husband cheated on you, they will never look at him, or you, the same way again. She knows that from experience.

I am allowed to do what’s best for me, even if it upsets others.

A trick she learned as a child when her parents would rage at each other, or at her. A kind of dissociation that allowed her to endure what was happening without letting any of it in.

Isn’t that what everyone does when they meet someone? Google them. Why would the police be any different? She wonders what else they could have gleaned from their online search.

“He was hit by a car, last night, in the alley next to Villain & Saint. They think it was intentional.” “You mean murder? Who would want to kill Anton?”

How can she explain to her daughter that even when people say they don’t mind, they might actually mind? A lot.

A line from a book that she had read came to her: “Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart.” But she knew better now, in her forties, than she had at eighteen. That even though pain and suffering were her lot in life, she had control over her actions. She wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of the past. A judge would not be so understanding this time. But Lisa also couldn’t ignore the truth: if Gwen were gone, everything would be better.

She rolled over on her side to face the window that she had cracked to let the cold Vermont air whisper in. No, killing Gwen was out of the question. There had to be another way to destroy her.

As she turns up her walkway, the boys zipping ahead of her, Gwen flashes back to last night. How she threw that coffee mug, hitting him in the head. How it landed on the tile floor, shattering, and he stormed off. She was so sure she had cleaned up every last bit of broken ceramic.

But telling Barb what Anton told her would come with too high a price. Her mother would use it to manipulate Gwen forever. No, Anton’s secret is one that Gwen must manage all by herself.

She wishes she could tell Aimee the whole truth. Well, not the whole truth. Certainly not what Anton revealed last night. Aimee would never forgive her.

You say it’s plagiarism, using her words. That she’s the one who wrote it and I just slapped my name on it. That I’m profiting from her pain, stealing her glory.

Lisa takes the pen from Gwen’s hand and for a fraction of a second, the two make eye contact. In that moment, Gwen realizes who her husband’s been sleeping with.

He may have been the professional writer, but now it’s you who gets to write the story. However you behave, whatever you say—to your boys, to the world, to yourself, and yes, even to that awful woman—will become the truth.

Hatred would be easier to deal with. Purer and brighter, it could be a source of energy, whereas grief is damp and depleting.

“Fine,” Block says in a tone that tells her things aren’t fine at all. He shoots the pink stress ball toward a small plastic hoop on the wall and misses. “Your husband hired me to find out who was blackmailing him.”

“Cathy Stocker,” Aimee says with more urgency. “She lives here.” “Oh, Catherine Stocker.” She nods in recognition. “Of course, Catherine, my cat sitter. But she no longer works for me. And I can assure you she has never lived here.”

“I think Dex is dead, buried somewhere up on that mountain. And I think Michael Finch killed him.” Lisa sank back in her leather seat as it all clicked into place. She felt a euphoria, the kind she hadn’t felt since she went skydiving for her twenty-first birthday. The high from having jumped out of a plane and floated among the clouds had lasted days. That same rush filled her now. Scott Crowder—who everyone thought was an upstanding family man, biotech entrepreneur, soccer coach, and all-around great guy—was a fraud. A criminal. A killer.

What she really wants to say is, You always wanted to see the best in her, but Lisa is a psycho, and your husband, he has some serious skeletons in his closet. And maybe it’s time you grew up and faced facts. But right now Gwen feels like Aimee is the only friend she has in the world, and she doesn’t want to lose her, so Gwen forces herself to smile. “And that’s one of the things I really love about you, Aimee. Just be careful who you believe.”

She doesn’t know what to believe. It seems crazy that Lisa and Anton might have been having an affair, yet Gwen was so sure. And Gwen was right about one thing—it was odd how upset Lisa got when she heard Noa had been spending time at Cathy’s.

Jon Block’s words come back to mock her. It never ceases to amaze me. People can be married and sleep together in the same bed for decades and have no idea who the other person is.

There had to be another way, a way to arouse suspicion and drive a wedge between them. The goal was to make Aimee feel so betrayed, so hurt, that she would never forgive Scott, that she would turn to her loyal friend Lisa for succor and support. It wasn’t going to be pretty, Lisa thought, but it was for Aimee’s own good.

Gwen sucks in her breath. She flips to the front of the notebook. On the first page, written in Anton’s neat block lettering is: INTERVIEWS WITH CATHY STOCKER.

“Where should I begin? Basically, twenty-eight years ago, two guys in the fall of their senior year of high school went on a backpacking trip into the mountains of California. Neither ever returned. One of them was named Dexter Kohl, and the other Michael Finch. Anton somehow tracked down Dexter’s mother and interviewed her. She is convinced that Michael killed her son on that trip and disposed of the body. She thinks that he fled the state and started over by changing his name. And she thinks the person he became is Scott Crowder.”

“Why, so you can kill him?” Cathy laughs sharply. “Kill him? Now why would I want to kill my own son?”

It had been a terrible mistake to involve Anton, one that she couldn’t undo. She’d once viewed him as the solution to her woes, but he had become her biggest problem.

Cathy walks over and grabs the notebook. She opens it up, flipping through the pages. “Cathy is Dexter’s mom. I’m not Cathy Stocker.” She looks at Aimee. “My name is Jen. Jen Finch.” “So why were you using her name?” Aimee asks, incredulous.

“I can’t let you tell Aimee.” She steps closer. “I told Anton the same thing, and he didn’t listen, either.” “What do you mean, Anton didn’t listen?” Gwen blinks as the room starts to sway. “Are you saying—” “I saw him follow Scott. I knew what he was going to do. He was going to tell him. He was going to destroy me. I had to stop him.” “You murdered Anton.” Gwen struggles to stand up. She needs to get out of here. But Lisa stands between her and the door.

But she can’t. None of them can. Gwen and Marcus will have to rebuild their lives without their cheating spouses. Kai lost his mom, and Rafi and George lost their dad. And whatever the future holds for her and her own kids, it won’t happen here.

If he had seen my interview on Dateline, if he had read my book, he would have offered hours’ worth of analysis. Is it weird that I wish my dead husband could read the book I wrote about his murder, so we might have an intelligent discussion? No, I don’t think so. We always want what we don’t have.

“I thought it was interesting that you switched that in the book. You had Lisa and Marcus be the ones who were there first, when they were actually the ones who moved in later.”

“Did Lisa or Anton have anything to do with the blackmailing at all?” “No. They were in la-la land screwing each other. I’m the one who sent the original email to Scott from American University. Anton had no clue, not until the day he found my notebook. We got in a huge fight about it. I had to tell him what was going on. He got so self-righteous with me, I couldn’t believe it. That was the day we went to dinner at your place, and I heard him warn you. We got in a huge fight when we got home.”

“We were very careful. Marcus, poor guy, he felt so betrayed. Humiliated. I mean, so did I, but it wasn’t my first time being cheated on. He was really devastated. Neither one of us wanted a divorce. He would have lost millions. We decided to help each other out. I’d take care of Lisa, and you know…” “He’d take care of Anton. Wow. That’s brilliant, Gwen.”