Letters to Lincoln

“She had his hair in her hands?”

“Yes, or rather, she said it was his. She was going to hold on to it until the baby was born. I didn’t know what to do; I hope you believe me. As time wore on, I made a decision; right or wrong, not to mention it to you because I thought you’d been through enough. I need you to understand when I say, I would never have tolerated my son having an affair, and I would have had no hesitation in calling him out on that. I didn’t get the chance.”

Patricia was openly sobbing and the miles that kept us apart intensified that desire to wrap my arms around her because I knew it wasn’t a possibility.

“I need to ask one question, if you don’t mind. Would Trey have ever called himself Kitt?”

I heard the sob that caught in her throat. “Kitt was my husband, Trey’s father’s name. Or nickname, I should say.”

“I thought his name was Henry?”

“It was, he hated it so used his middle name, Kitt.”

I’d never met him. When we’d had conversations about him, he’d always used the name Henry.

“That name was in Helen’s phone. Christian remembers Trey using it once on a holiday. But there’s more. Trey and Helen exchanged letters, or at least Trey wrote to Helen. Christian found them, he hasn’t told me exactly what was in them, he decided to burn them in front of her.”

“I don’t know what to say, Dani. I’m heartbroken for you right now. I don’t know if I did the right thing by staying quiet. I guess, in my heart, I hoped it was all fake. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, please don’t apologise, I’d have probably done the same thing had I been in your situation,” I lied.

“What will happen now?”

“Christian is saying that he’s going to divorce her. As for Alistair? I don’t know. He’s your grandchild, all that’s left of…” The sob that caught in my throat forbade me from continuing.

“I can’t…I’m not sure I want to deal with that right now. Does that make me terrible?” she asked.

“I don’t know what I’d do, either. However, you have the choice, and no one would think any less of you if you decide to have a relationship with him.”

“To do that, I’d have to have a relationship with Helen, and that’s really not something I can see happening.”

“Maybe you can write to Alistair, send cards and gifts. Helen could keep them for when he’s older.” Even I doubted that Helen would do that. “Or send them here, Patricia. I’m sure we can get them to him at some point, when he’s old enough to understand he has extended family.”

I wasn’t sure why I was offering that service, but I needed to get to the point where I didn’t view Alistair in any way other than a baby caught up in someone else’s mess.

“I’ll need to think about it all. It’s just too much to take in right now. How on earth are you coping, Dani?”

“All I can say is, I’m just about coping. I’m so angry, but I’m also so confused as well. I keep thinking about our life, to see if I can remember any clues, and there’s just nothing that springs to mind. Right now, I hate how he’s made me feel, I hate that he’s not here to answer to any of this.”

“I can understand that, I think I’d feel the same. I know he loved you, Dani…”

“Not enough, Patricia, not enough,” I said, interrupting her.

I could not listen to anyone tell me Trey loved me. If he had, this would never have happened. I didn’t believe it was possible for him to ‘love’ two people. I would never again accept that he had respect for me, certainly in the latter years. To respect me, would have meant he’d either stayed faithful, or left if he wasn’t happy.

“I need to go, Dad is calling for dinner,” I said, lying again.

“Okay, despite the nature of our conversation, it was so good to hear your voice.”

“I’ll try to get to visit you in a few months. I guess I have to deal with things here, first.”

“That would be wonderful, I’d be thrilled to see you.”

We said goodbye and I laid the phone face down on the bedside cabinet. I didn’t want to see those two unread messages from him. I didn’t want the temptation to scroll through the many photographs stored on there, either. I closed my eyes and let more tears fall gently down my cheeks. So it was true. My husband had been having an affair, and like Christian felt, had it been with a stranger, I might have been able to stomach it a little easier.

I died just a little more inside that evening.





Chapter Fifteen





Christmas week was fast approaching and with it, Christian’s mood deteriorated. I noticed Dad being cautious around him, the slightest mention of Helen or Alistair, or even Christmas, seemed to set off the explosion that had been building inside him. It was awkward, unsettling, and the atmosphere was thick with tension. There came a point when I felt my feelings were brushed aside, and although it wasn’t a competition on who was hurting the most, his anger was overriding anything anyone else felt. I’d lost my cheating husband and my child; Dad had lost his only grandchild. Yet our emotions had to be kept in check.

Christian travelled to London a couple of times, returning late at night the same day. He hadn’t travelled to see Helen but to check in with work. He’d decided to take an extended holiday, but I wondered how his boss felt about that. I was sure they’d be sympathetic to a degree, but having ‘lost’ my job when the sympathy had run out, I didn’t hold much hope in Christian returning to work full-time if he didn’t get himself back into gear.

He’d told me that he’d appointed a divorce lawyer to start proceedings, and had chuckled that he hoped paperwork would be served on her on Christmas Eve. That level of nastiness just wasn’t Christian, normally. He was determined to leave Helen with nothing financially; even though I’d pointed out she’d be entitled to half their house at least. His words that day had stunned me, ‘that bastard child will get nothing from me.’

Dad and I decided to sit in the garden wrapped up for warmth, and with a cup of tea.

“Do you still want to get a Christmas tree?” I asked.

“Do you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Neither do I. Is it wrong of me to be getting angry with Christian? I mean, both of you have been through a traumatic time, but his anger is just escalating.”

“No, it’s not wrong. It’s as if we don’t count, just his feelings. It’s getting irritating, to be honest. How about we escape for an hour or so to the pub?”

“I haven’t been to the pub for a long time. Let’s do it. But we can’t exactly go without inviting him, and right now, I’m not sure alcohol and his mood are a good mix.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I said with a sigh. It felt so wrong to be planning to sneak out of the house without him, but his depression was tiring us all out.

“I mentioned a counsellor to him but he wasn’t even prepared to listen,” Dad said.

“I don’t think Chris is the counselling type, to be honest. I think he has to work through this in his own way. What about his friends? I know he’s taken some calls, but maybe we could get in touch with a couple and see if they’d invite him out, or something.”

“Dani, he’s thirty-five, I’m sure he’d be pretty annoyed if we pulled a stroke like that.”

“Well, I think I might take a walk, do you want to join me?” I asked.

Dad gave me a secretive smirk. “I have to do some shopping, up the lane.”

“At Mrs. Hampton’s? She came down the other day for a visit, didn’t she?”

“Yes, and she did. She’s invited me visit her.”

“I think it’s nice,” I said, giving him a smile.

I rose from my chair, leaving my cup on the table, and waved over my shoulder, as I headed to the side of the garden and out of the gate.

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