Sex and the Social Network
Page 22
Our reunion was uneventful. The kids smothered me with hugs and kisses and talked a mile a minute to fill me in on the details of their fun morning.
MARIA
The morning sunlight surged through the window. The warmth and promise of a new day felt great. But as the rays streamed through Enrique’s bedroom window, my headache was rearing its ugly head, making me all too aware of the difficult path that lay before me.
Enrique was in the shower when I got up, which gave me a few minutes to take some deep breaths and figure out what I was going to say to him.
He poked his head in to see if I was awake.
“Hey, beautiful. How’d you sleep?” Enrique walked over and sat on the edge of his bed.
“Did we actually sleep?” I joked.
He chuckled. “For some strange reason, I was exhausted. You know, burying your mom, making love to your long lost love . . . those types of things can really wear you out.”
I was cracking up and loved that he could joke when I knew how much he was hurting. I imagined that he had a lot of questions for me.
“Here, put on my robe and come have some breakfast.” He held it up for me, and it smelled just like him, a mix of his hair gel, cologne and his manly essence.
Coffee had never tasted so good. The caffeine and a side of buttered toast was all the courage I needed. I knew Enrique had questions for me that I had to answer.
“So Maria, are you going to tell me why you’re really here? Where do Zack and the kids think you are?”
“The kids are at Liz’s house, and I left a note for Zack saying I was visiting my grandma for a few days. I figured that would buy me some time to figure things out.”
“And has it? I love that you are here, but after last night I have a feeling you didn’t come here solely for my mom’s funeral.” Enrique’s eyebrows furrowed as he waited for my answer.
“I heard about you and Claire splitting up, and I had to see you. I had to look into your eyes to see if there was any hope for us. Do you ever wonder if you would do things differently if you could go back in time?” I needed to know.
Enrique inhaled and let out a deep breath. “Yeah, of course. I’m divorced; I get to see my kids three days a week, every other weekend, and some holidays. This is not the life I’d imagined I would have. So yes, I do think that sometimes. Maybe there is an alternate universe out there where I made the right choices and I get to eat dinner with my kids every night and tell them a bedtime story before I kiss them goodnight.”
“So what would you have done differently? Would you still have married Claire?”
“That’s a hard one. Without her, I wouldn’t have Ashley and Brooke. I love my girls more than anything. So if I had to marry Claire to have my girls then yes, I’d do it all again. But if I could have married for the right reasons and still had these exact girls then no, I wouldn’t have married her.”
“It stings, doesn’t it?”
“Yes, it does. The reality of our lives can suck sometimes.”
“Why did you marry Claire in the first place?”
“I thought she was what I wanted. She was smart and confident, had her own great job. She didn’t need to be taken care of, and I admired her independence. I grew up the only boy and the oldest child in my family. My parents needed me; my sister always looked up to me. What I didn’t realize was that I need to be needed, and Claire never needed me. Not then and certainly not at the end of our marriage.
I started to resent her, and she said I was trying to control her. I don’t think that was true. Really, I don’t. I just wanted to be let in, to be part of her decisions, to be someone she could count on. But I realized when you’re that strong, that rigid, you become like a statue: pretty to look at but cold. And statues don’t need people to lean on.”
“I’m sorry, Enrique. That must have been a difficult realization,” I added.
“It was and it is. How fucking pathetic is it that I’m the needy one because I need to feel needed?” We both laughed. “I think that is why I am drawn to you, Maria. Not just because you are so beautiful and sexy. Which you are; don’t get me wrong. Take last night, for example. I just lost my mom, I was devastated and broken, and still you showed up, not afraid to be vulnerable with me. I knew from the moment our eyes met. And that, for me, that willingness to share yourself without any barriers makes me feel whole and loved.”
I was stunned that a guy could be so perceptive. Most men I knew were too preoccupied with their dicks or their jobs to observe something as subtle as need in a woman’s eyes.
I wasn’t going to bother denying anything that Enrique said. “You’re right, totally right. I felt and feel lost. I’m not sure if I still love Zack, and my kids are driving me nuts. Ever since we broke up last summer, I’ve been a wreck. I haven’t slept well in months, and when I dream it’s about home, about here . . . about you.”
“At first, I thought my dreams were just about wanting to come home, about seeing my childhood place, what I defined as security and love. But my dreams became less and less about my home and more and more about you. Don’t laugh, Enrique, but I felt like you were ‘calling’ me. Like you were watching the same moon and wishing upon the same stars as I was, wondering what I was doing.”
Enrique nodded as I went on.
“I’d sit outside on my back deck, drinking too much wine, and sometimes I’d see a falling star, and I’d make a wish. I pictured you making that same contemplative face you are making right now, wondering what I was doing. I felt like you told me to come here.” I searched his eyes to see if he thought I was crazy.
Tears were streaming down his stubbled face. He walked over to where I was standing. He held my face tenderly in his hands. “Maria, every night. Every night I prayed to God that you would feel me across the miles. I prayed that I wasn’t nuts that you were reaching out to me. That when I’d turn on the radio, it wasn’t a coincidence that “Faithfully” or “Open Arms” was playing.”
Enrique’s iPod was playing on the holder. At first I thought it had just been random songs, but then it hit me. The last three songs that played had been “Maria, Maria” by Santana, “Maria” by Michael Jackson, and “Maria” by Blondie. As I listened to the lyrics, I realized that these were some of the songs that were on my windshield week after week.
“Oh my God! Enrique! You? You are the one who put all those letters with the lyrics on my car?”
He just stood there smirking, his big, brown eyes twinkling.
“But wait, how? You live an hour away. How did you get them on my windshield like that?”
“I drove, baby. I’d have driven a hell of a lot farther to see your face light up like it did.”
“Wait. You mean you were there? You saw me get the letters?” My voice went up an octave.
He nodded. “Yup, every time. I’d wait across the street at that outdoor café and sip my coffee. I had on a baseball hat and sunglasses just in case you peeked over.”
“I don’t get it. Why didn’t you tell me you were there? You drove all the way to deliver them. Didn’t you want to see me?”
“Of course I wanted to see you. I felt horrible about having to break things off so quickly when Claire became suspicious. I had already hurt you so much. I just wanted to see you smile, and when I saw how happy you got after the first song, I decided I had to hand-deliver each subsequent letter. I wanted to kiss you and hold you and tell you I wanted to be with you.”
“I wish you had, baby. I missed you so much.”
“When Claire and I split up, I came to tell you in person, but I saw you with that young blonde guy. I thought you’d moved on. I thought you must hate me for leaving you the way I did. I knew if you ever wanted me, you would come find me.”
Tears were streaming down his face. “Maria, when you showed up at my house on Friday, I knew that you finally came for me, amor. At least I had to believe that.”
“Enrique, I can’t believe you thought that guy meant anything to me
. Baby, he was just someone I was seeing, a simple distraction from my broken heart.”
By now I was crying too. The past couple days were too much to hold in. We sat on the couch and cried again together. Two days ago we cried on our park bench for everything we lost. Today we were crying for everything we hoped was still there.
“So now what, Enrique? How would we even begin to try this? The logistics of our kids and the distance.”
Enrique grinned. “You remember what my mama used to always say when I’d say ‘I can’t’?”
“There is no try…there is only do.”
“Exactly! Listen, Maria, I work for myself. I can live anywhere. You’re the one who needs to work out the logistics. I have no doubts, amor. You need to make sense of all of this in your heart and in your head. You need to be sure you’re ready to leave your husband, your home, life as you know it. Kids on weekends, holidays without them, everything that comes with a decision like that.”
I paused for a second before I answered. “Do you know what peaceful feels like, Enrique?”
“I think so.”
“I do. For me, it’s waking up in your bed, kissing your lips, looking into your eyes, knowing you see me. The real me. You see it all and you still love me. With you, I’m able to be myself. I don’t have to put up walls or pretend to be something I’m not. I can’t remember the last time I felt like I could do that. You don’t love me in spite of my shortcomings; you love me because of them.” I took a deep breath before I continued.
“Enrique, I feel safe and loved when I’m with you. And that makes me feel peaceful. I never knew how physically uncomfortable being unhappy was. I had accepted it as reality, as my life. But the contrast is so strong I can feel it in my body, in my bones. You make me feel whole. So yes, I will be giving up a lot by leaving Zack. My kids will be sad, and it will rip my life apart for a while. But I know I am doing the right thing because today, for the first time in a long time, I feel peace.”
Enrique smiled and the reassurance in his eyes told me he knew exactly what I meant.
The kids and I would be better off if I was happy and able to give myself to them when I saw them. Lately, I had been a horrible mother, feeling so empty without the kind of love I so desperately needed. Even though math was not my best subject, I knew one hundred percent of me fifty percent of the time was still a lot better than zero percent of me one hundred percent of the time. Suddenly, it didn’t hurt to be in my own skin because, for once, I was being true to myself.
I remembered in high school, when Enrique and I were together, we would say that neither one of us could ever be an “us” with anybody else. I didn’t realize the significance of that until we weren’t. But it was true: we were never truly an “us” when we weren’t together. Enrique and I belonged together. I couldn’t wait to be the “us” we were always meant to be.
I had to go to the hotel and grab my bag before I headed back home. Enrique and I kissed for a few minutes on his front porch, but none of the desperation or the questions were there anymore. I wasn’t worried that it would be our last time together. I knew it was just the beginning.
Enrique handed me a card. “Don’t open this until you get home, okay, babe? Drive safe. Call me when you’re home and settled.”
I hugged him one more time. “I’ll call you. I promise. Te quiero, Enrique.”
“I love you too.” He kissed me softly once more, and I was off to face Zack.
GABBY
Monday morning came way too soon. BZZ … came the sound of a text. I didn’t want to look, but I couldn’t stop myself. It was Todd.
TODD: Hey, gorgeous. How’s my favorite fuck buddy?
I felt sick to my stomach. Why wouldn’t he just leave me alone?
GABBY: Hey, Todd. How are you?
TODD: I’m awesome! I had a great time on Saturday night. Come meet me tonight for a little while.
GABBY: No, I really can’t, Todd. I can’t see you anymore at all. Please stop texting me.
TODD: WTF, babe? Come over tonight after work or else…
Tears began to form in my eyes. Oh, no. Please, God, please tell me he is not still blackmailing me.
GABBY: Or else what?
TODD: Or else I promise you will regret it.
I knew denying Todd was a dangerous choice, but saying yes to him felt even more so. I was done; I couldn’t bear to look at him ever again.
GABBY: I don’t know what else to say, Todd. I’m not sure why you want to hurt me, but I am not meeting you tonight, not ever again.
TODD: Babe, you’re killing me. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to make you feel good. :)
GABBY: Fuck off. Don’t text me. Don’t call me. Just leave me the hell alone.
TODD: Okay.
What? Had Todd really just conceded? That was too easy. I let out a big breath and just had to hope and pray he would leave me alone.
❧
Luckily, work kept me busy on Monday, so I didn’t have time to wallow too much in my own sorrow.
I spent the day catching up on the weekend’s emails and putting together a presentation for Wednesday’s staff meeting. I threw myself into my work, and it wasn’t until I went out to do errands at lunch that I even thought about Todd and Floyd. I felt sick thinking about the “game” we played and how viciously, how cruelly Todd had treated me.
By the time I got back to the office, I could barely see straight. I needed vodka. I needed to not remember what happened. I didn’t have any in my desk, and I didn’t have time to run out for any either. All I could do was throw myself back into my job and get through the day. I could drink when I got home.
Monday night was an ordinary night in the Clayton household. It was, that is, until it wasn’t. It was an evening of roast chicken, wild rice, and broccoli. It was an evening of two kids, two parents, and a sweet dog, Roxie. It was an evening of pure, suburban perfection.
After the kids were tucked in bed, Steven went to play on Facebook for a few minutes before we sat down to watch TV and eat some ice cream. I went into his office to ask him how much longer, and his face was all twisted.
“Gabby, why is Todd Roberts sending me an email?”
My knees started to give way. It took everything in my body not to collapse. My legs felt like lead, but somehow I managed to walk slowly over to him. “I don’t know. Weird.” My voice cracked.
Steven opened the email and read aloud.
Hey, Steven, this is Todd, Gabby’s friend from work. Hope you enjoy this video as much as I did.
After the short message, there was a link to a video called “hotmilfywives.” Steven clicked on it before I could stop him and there, on his computer screen in his office, in our house, was a video of me fucking Todd and Floyd.
I froze, unable to talk or move or even cry.
“What the fuck is this? Gabby? What the hell is this? Is this some kind of joke?” Steven had lost all control and was yelling as loud as I had ever heard him.
I wanted to look away, but I was transfixed watching myself suck Floyd while Todd did me from behind. I listened with horror as I moaned, as they laughed and carried on with their hootin’ and hollerin’.
The son of a bitch had videotaped Saturday night, put it on a porn site, and sent a link to my husband. What kind of person does that?
“Sleep in the guest room, you sick bitch. And tomorrow I’m calling Frank; he’s the best divorce attorney in the city. We are OVER!”
I didn’t even try to protest; I deserved everything he said and all that was coming to me. My life would never be the same, and the devastation was more than I could process.
In the bathroom cabinet, I found some sleeping pills and took three. There was no sense in staying awake; no nightmare could be worse than the hell I had made of my life.
❧
The next morning I woke up to Kerri and Katie climbing on me and kissing me awake.
“Mommy, Mama, wake up. What’s wrong? Why are you sleeping in here?”
My sweet little darlings, I didn’t deserve their love. “Hi, loveys. I don’t feel well, so I slept in the guest room so I wouldn’t get Daddy sick.”
Kerri looked up at me with her huge doe eyes. “Okay, Mommy. You better go back to sleep then. Daddy said he’d take us to preschool today.”
I brought my girls closer to me, squeezed them so tight, held on to their little hands.
Kerri squeezed my hand back. “Mommy, I want to hold your hand forever.”
“Aw, honey, me too.” I had to fight back the tears.
Her eyes got wider and misty. “Mama, I want to hold your hand forever… that way when you die and go to heaven I can go with you.”
I grabbed my little Kerri and hugged her tighter than I ever had. My heart hurt so much. How could I feel so much joy and so much pain at the same time? How could love be something so pure and wonderful in the eyes of my sweet daughters and something so warped in someone like me, someone who’s had her heart and soul trampled on time and time again?
I kissed my darling girls and held them close. I loved my two little angels more than life itself.
Steven popped his head into the room. “Hey girls, go down and grab your backpacks. I have to talk to Mommy for a minute.” The girls skipped out of my room without a care in the world.
“I spoke to Frank this morning and told him about our situation. He said I have an open and shut case, and if I want full custody of the girls, he has no doubt I’ll get it. And that’s what I’m going to do. Our kids don’t deserve to have a whore for their mother, and you sure don’t deserve them.”
I was sobbing. I knew Steven meant what he said and would punish me by taking my girls.
“Pack a bag, bitch. I’ll arrange for your other stuff to be delivered to wherever you end up.”
“Steven, please.” I begged him. “Can you please just give me a chance to explain?”
“No. There is absolutely nothing that you can say that will make me forgive you or ever understand what you did. We have two beautiful girls, a house, a home, and a life, one I thought was pretty fucking good too! There is nothing you can say that will explain why you chose to throw our marriage and family away just to have sex with two men.”