there's three versions of this story (mine, yours and the truth)
Title: there's three versions of this story (mine, yours and the truth)
Characters: Lily, William, (Rufus)
Rating/Word Count: PG-13/1,365
One-Line Excerpt: Every husband cheats on their wife, and every wife repays the favour.
there’s three versions of this story (mine, yours and the truth)
“She thinks, we look at each other,
Wondering what the other is thinking,
But we never say a thing,
These crimes between us grown deeper”
-Dave Matthews Band, Ants Marching
It goes like this:
He expects you to just sit around and look good and act like his wife and raise two children while he’s fucking some slut in Shanghai. Oh sure, there’s some medical convention.
You’re not stupid, but maybe he is; knowing him, he used that as a pick-up line.
You’re not the kind of girl who waits-you refuse to be, especially after everything you had to give up-so you’re not waiting. What he comes home to will be a wreck of what he once had.
Maybe you’ll splash it across the papers, you haven’t decided it. A warning to those men who think you’re easy (you’re not usually) and think they can screw you over.
You’re Lily Rhodes, fuck the surname. If you’re anything like your mother, it’ll change god knows how many times in the future and it’s easier to remember your own name than anyone else’s.
The kids, though, they’ll take his name, he’s their father after all. Knowing how their generation will act, if it’s anything like yours, they’ll need all the protection they can get. Serena, long blonde locks and an adorable face and the promise of being a stunner...yes, especially her.
Bringing up the kids and bringing up the past is an interesting combination. Rufus comes to mind, and you haven’t thought of him in years (liarliarliar). He’s got a son Serena’s age with that girl he chose (Alison) and you don’t care (lie) because he chose her (truth) and you hate (lie) abhor (lie) don’t want to see him again (lielielie).
Rufus made you feel alive. William makes you want to die.
Ha. A rhyme. Jeez, you’ve gone crazy.
But who gives a fuck, because screw them all over. You don’t need Rufus or William or any man in her life-he can stay in Shanghai for all you care.
You’re off to Brooklyn to look for some art, because the paintings on this side of the bridge are far too stuffy to be modern and respectable to be chic.
Because Lily Rhodes is a survivor. Kinda. The kind of survivor who calls her mother (who’ll complain) and decides she’s hiring a PI to do the dirty work.
No, it goes like this:
You’re at this medical convention and there’s this really hot woman across the room with her eye on you. You feel like the prey for once, but you don’t mind. She’s wearing this dress that makes her body look sinful and she’s licking her lips and-
You’re married, you remind yourself. Just because Lily doesn’t honour your vows, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.
After all, what does she know. You’re on wife number two, you’ve done this before; last time it was her, so does this mean that next woman you sleep with will be wife number three?
Besides that moment of weakness with your assistant in New Delhi, you’ve been the perfect husband. And that wasn’t even intercourse, however close it was-it doesn’t count. You’ve decided you’re going to give this one a try, even five years in, and you’re not leaving.
This time’s different. This time there’s kids involved.
Serena’s beautiful, the perfect little princess who smiles at you with missing teeth and runs around and giggles adorably. And Eric might be younger but he knows who you are and he still loves to play with the toy elephant you brought back last year and he shouts Daddy! whenever you’re home.
You won’t give them up for the world. Not even for the woman across the room who’s now sipping on a cocktail you can’t recognise-even though you should, you chide yourself-and then remind yourself it shouldn’t matter.
Avert your eyes. Think of the wedding vows you’re upholding, think of the kids, think of being better. You should try it just this once, it might be fun.
...or moralistic or fill with you some melted, happy goodness...or something.
You weren’t sure how the others did it-Howard and Harold and everyone else-but then you looked closely and realised they’re better liars than you are. Howard’s sneaked into a brothel once or twice under a false name and ID, and Harold had a short affair with his butler before they got Dorota.
Eleanor, you think, is understanding because it was obvious. You wish Lily would be the same.
Her name fills him with dread and you call his PI. Bart recommended him, said he was very discreet.
Lily’s in Brooklyn. Brooklyn’s where Rufus is. Typical. Every husband cheats on their wife, and every wife repays the favour.
You don’t give a fuck anymore.
The woman across the floor grows desperate so you turn away and look for a challenge. If you’re going to destroy your marriage, you might as well do it with someone worthy.
But really, it goes like this:
He’s young and she’s young and neither of them love each other very much besides the casual attraction, but they’re both from the UES and rich so they go along with it.
Might as well. Life’s been pretty boring.
At first, it’s all good. There’s lots of sex and story-telling and getting drunk. But after a year, they’re not allowed to be newlyweds anymore.
He accepts an assignment in Sydney and leaves for six months. It’s good, he tells her, it’ll be a break. We’ll both get time to work on our careers individually.
Officially. Unofficially, it’s time for them to recharge and get ready for more lies and smiles and start missing the sex so it’s even better. Both of them take a vow of celibacy, and boy, is it worth it.
He’s gone two months later, this time to Moscow, and three weeks in, he gets a surprise.
I’m pregnant.
Well, fuck. It’s early on, they could’ve gotten away with not seeing each other for months-on-end for another three years or so. But with kid(s), that was harder to explain.
And there was the guilt. The please, daddy, don’t go, I’ll be good, I promise! and the I miss you every weekend and the fateful when are you coming home?. It was going to drive him mad.
But being a dad, he discovered, was great, and he fell in love with his little princess as soon as he saw her and for a year, he and Lily acted like a family, both inside and outside the house.
Then they suffocate.
She can’t survive it anymore. A baby takes work and she’s got no time to herself and he’s lying every single fucking minute of the day and jeez, the masks are never coming off.
When he gets a job in Miami, she relishes the fresh air, hires a nanny, and goes on about her business. Things are good; her mother’s happy (which means they’re keeping up appearances), and Serena’s generally happy (though she often misses her father). But all in, things are great.
Sometimes she thinks the second child broke them, but really it was a long time coming. Eric was a bundle of joy and spent most time with Serena and hardly saw his father, and she was so caught up in her own life that she didn’t notice (or care).
It’s only when she hears the rumour that she feels betrayed. She doesn’t care if he spends time away, as long as he doesn’t go all the way. There have to be limits or it’ll end up being an open-secret and she doesn’t want that.
She can imagine the humiliation.
In the end, it’s neither of their faults. Things fall apart, end mutually, well but not amazingly. Serena still asks for her father every morning and keeps his latest postcard under her pillow, Eric hardly remembers him, and the two of them get used to her mother disappearing all the time.
The truth is that things don’t work out that time. Or the next. Or the next. Or the next. And then she marries Rufus and he blames her (but still wants her) and things are the mess they started out being.
Funny, how things end up in a circle.
Yet, no one was to blame.
Of course, try telling them that.