Genuine Lies
With a sigh, Eve covered the tray and sat back with a goblet of chilled water. “I have loved him, and have been his lover, for thirty years. He is the only man I have ever made a sacrifice for. The only man to give me lonely nights, the kind of nights a woman spends in tears, in despair, in hope.”
“Yet you’ve married twice in the past thirty years.”
“Yes. And taken and enjoyed lovers. Being in love with Victor didn’t mean I had to stop trying to live. That was, is, Muriel’s way. Not mine.”
“I wasn’t asking you to justify, Eve.”
“No?” She skimmed her fingers through her hair, then drummed them on the arm of the couch. Julia might not ask, Eve realized, but Julia’s eyes did. “I would not try to hold him by martyring myself. And, I’ll admit, I tried to forget him by filling myself with other men.”
“And he loves you.”
“Oh, yes. Our feelings for each other are very closely matched. That’s part of the tragedy, and the glory of it.”
“If that’s true, Eve, why is he married to someone else?”
“An excellent question.” After lighting a cigarette, she sank back into the pillows on the couch. “One I’ve asked myself countless times over the years. Even when I knew the answer, I still asked. His marriage to Muriel was already on shaky ground when we met. I don’t say that to gloss over adultery. I say it because it’s true.” She expelled smoke in a hurried puff. “I wouldn’t give a damn if I had been the reason Victor had fallen out of love with his wife. But that had alreadyhappened before I came along. He stayed with her because he felt responsible, because her faith made it impossible for her to condone divorce. And because they lost a child, a daughter, at birth. That loss was something Muriel never adjusted to—or never allowed herself to adjust to.
“Muriel was always delicate physically. Epilepsy. No,” Eve said, smiling, “there’s never been any whisper or hint that Victor’s wife is an epileptic. Of course there’s no stigma attached to the illness now.”
“But there was a stigma a generation ago,” Julia put in.
“And Muriel Flannigan is the kind of woman who clasps such things to her bosom and revels.”
Julia frowned. “You’re saying she uses her illness to provoke sympathy.”
“My dear, she uses it as cleverly, as calculatingly and as cold-bloodedly as a general uses his troops. It’s her shield against reality, and she’s spent a lifetime dragging Victor behind that shield with her.”
“It’s hard to drag a man anywhere he doesn’t want to go.”
Eve’s lips tightened for a moment, then she smiled brittlely. “Touché, darling.”
“I’m sorry, I’m making judgments. It’s only …” Because I care about you. She blew out an impatient breath. If anyone could muddle through on her own, it was Eve. “I shouldn’t be,” she finished. “You know the players better than I.”
“Well put,” Eve murmured. “The three of us have indeed been players in an endless script. The other woman, the long-suffering wife, and the man torn between his heart and conscience.” She whipped up a cigarette, then stared into space without lighting it. “I offer sex, and she responsibility, and she plays so astutely. How often she conveniently neglects to take the medication that would control the illness—usually when there is some crisis to be faced, some decision to be made.”
Julia held up a hand. “I’m sorry, Eve, but why would he tolerate it? Why would anyone allow themselves to be used year after year?”
“What’s the stronger motivator, Julia? Tell me using your practical brain. Is it love, or is it guilt?”
It took her only a moment to see the clearest answer. “A combination of both would outweigh any other emotion.”
“And such a desperate woman knows just how to wield that combination.” She let out an impatient huff of breath to clear the bitterness from her voice. “Victor has seen to it that Muriel’s illness has been kept secret. She insists on it— fanatically. Since the miscarriage, her mental health has been unstable at best. We both knew, we both accepted, that while Muriel lived, he could never be mine.”
This wasn’t the time for censor or criticism, Julia realized. Like the hour they had spent by the pool, it was a time for understanding. “I’m so sorry. I can see I only believed myself in love with a man who could never belong to me. But still there was terrible pain. I
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