Life Without You

by S. P. West

  I asked Marylyn once why she stayed with Tonnis for all that time, her reply was simply that she loved him and that sometimes love was blind. Once she found the strength to leave, she didn’t look back until the day he almost killed her. Alex told me all that had happened when we first got together. Late one night, cuddled up in the tiny bed in his darkened dorm room with only the light coming from the moon, he sobbed in my arms while I stoked his hair as he told me about his father and how he had found his mother. What had stuck with me was when he said he loved his father and that before the drink and drugs Tonnis had been a good, kind man, a loving father and husband. His dad had lost his way. He’d then whispered that he never wanted to be like that.

  Both Alex and Marylyn eventually forgave Tonnis for his past sins because they loved him and understood that he was a sick man. So I don’t believe that Alex would be so stupid as to go down the same, dark path as his dad. He’s seen the evil that it can cause.

  So that would leave financial issues, which with his promotion rules that out, or the one that I fear the most...that Alex has met someone else. The mere thought of it feels like a punch in the gut and I can feel the vomit rise through my throat causing me to move with inhuman speed from the cool, slate tiles of bathroom floor to the toilet before I involuntarily purge my stomach of its contents. Finally, after twenty minutes of retching, a glass of water and staring at the meadow green bathroom wall; being grateful that I had the foresight to choose such a calming color as anything else would make me puke again - the need to be sick stopped and I returned to sitting with my back to propped up against the bath and starting at the sink.

  I know that I’m possibly sticking my head in the sand but I can’t bring myself to even think about Alex with someone else. I just can’t. I don’t know what I would do. I’ve always said that if a man cheated on me I would be out the door and never look back. It’s just that I love my husband, he is my whole world. He promised me that he would never cheat; he would never lie; he would never break my heart. I want to believe him; I have to believe him because without trust we have nothing. Marriage can’t survive on love and sex alone. There needs to be faith in one another, there needs to be compromise and a certain amount of give and take. I just can’t believe that he would do that to me. I would know. There must be another reason.

  I often wonder if he even finds me attractive anymore. In truth probably not at the moment. Hell, just looking in the mirror my green eyes are blood shot and dull, my long blonde hair is lank, my skin has an unnatural paleness that is at odds with the Californian sunshine. I’ve lost weight. The person who stares back at me from the bathroom mirror is not someone I recognize; I look ill.

  I know the reason why. It’s why I’d been sitting on our bathroom floor for the past two hours having a full blown panic attack wondering what the hell I’m going to do.

  I’m living proof that you’ll never know how something will affect your life until it happens to you. I’d always thought that seeing those two pink lines on the little white stick that’s currently taunting me from beside the bathroom sink would be a cause for celebration. With the bad state my marriage is in being pregnant could not have come at a worse possible time. Of course I’m happy; I’m also scared, completely and utterly terrified. What if Alex doesn’t want the baby? I couldn’t get rid of it and I wouldn’t be able to forgive him if he told me to. What if I die in childbirth?

  I have no family here for me to turn to apart from Marylyn and I don’t want her to worry about us. All my family and a lot of my friends are in England, we talk via Skype and Facebook-it’s not the same as popping to your mum’s for a cup of tea and a natter.

  I haven’t told my mum about what’s happening, she’d only worry like Marylyn and tell me to come home like she does every time that I call her.

  Well one thing’s for sure. I can’t sit on this floor anymore; my bum went numb about half hour ago and if I need to panic then it is probably best to do it from the comfort of my bed or couch or I could head out for some fresh air.

  With that, I haul myself up, catching sight of my reflection in the mirror before rubbing my hand over my still flat stomach. I wonder if you could tell that I’m pregnant yet. Am I supposed to I look any different? Do I even feel any different? Oh god, I’m going to be responsible for a tiny human being in a big bad world and I may have to do it alone. On the bright side this baby might be a surprise, he or she might be unexpected but they will be loved.

  When I think back nothing in my life has turned out how I expected it to. When I decided to attend university in the States to study an under-graduate degree in Business Management, I hadn’t imagined that I would bump into a six foot, two inch, dirty-blond, caramel eyed Adonis on my first day in UC Davis’s campus. A man who would steal my heart during a one-night stand. I certainly didn’t think that he would be interested in me beyond our one night together or that we would be married by the time we graduated a few years later. In hindsight, I wonder if that was our mistake. Whether Alex married me out of a sense of duty so that I didn’t have to return home after graduation.

  After we finished our final year at University, we were supposed to take a year out to travel the world. It never happened. I’d so desperately wanted to go and wander the world before starting out on our ’grown up’ adventure, as Alex loved to call it, but life got in the way. Instead, my gorgeous, clever husband was head hunted straight out of University and offered a job at one of the most prestigious investment firms here in San Fran.

  Nearly four years later and he’s still working for them. Gone is the fun-loving, Chuck- wearer that I first fell in love with. He died a long time ago as he became buried under increasing piles of work. It sounds like I’m ungrateful, in a way I am. Yet because of this job we can continue to live a very comfortable, happy life in our tiny one bed flat in the Upper Haight.

  In a way we’ve been very lucky. Alex has always gotten on well with his uncle, Greg. When we were looking for somewhere to live, Greg offered to rent us the lovely little apartment that we call home. It turned out that Greg had made some wise investment choices as a young man in the early 70’s and needed new tenants. As a result, we pay far less than normal for it, otherwise we wouldn’t have been able to afford anything in the area. Unfortunately, I wasn’t as lucky on the job front as my husband was. In fact, it took me forever to find someone to employ me, mainly due to the time it took to get a visa after we married. Alex has never complained about my lack of employment; he says he just wants me to be happy.

  I’d spent many lonely hours sending out my resume and exploring San Francisco until Alex came home. I didn’t want to sit in the apartment all day watching trashy day-time T.V. and feeling sorry for myself when yet another rejection letter addressed to me hit the mat. It was on one of my daily walks in the neighborhood when I saw that a new café had opened up on the corner of our street. I’d like to say that some mysterious force drew me towards the quirkily named ‘Ginger Cat Café’ with its beautifully painted sign of a Ginger cat sitting on a fence. I could tell you that the heavens opened and angels sang as I approached the old fashioned shop front. I’d be lying, as it was more likely the large sign stating ‘Staff wanted’ that drew me in and the rest, as they say, is history. It turned out that waitressing in The Worlds End pub for a few years back home more than qualified me for the job.

  The cafe was owned by gorgeous celebrity chef, Dax Edwardson and his equally handsome partner of sixteen years, Sergei Romanov. I loved Dax and Sergei instantly. Dax is warmth and sunshine to Sergei’s surliness and dark cloud, they bicker, they fight, they joke but you cannot deny the love between them. Both in their early forties when I stumbled into their lives; Dax had turned into a silver haired fox since I had last seen him on TV; he was as much as an incorrigible flirt as he came across on his shows. His ice blue eyes twinkled with mischief as he ‘interviewed’ me. However, Dax’s idea of interviews consisted of chatting about life, the universe and everything while drinking
tea and eating the most divine Lemon and Poppy seed cake. It turned out that Dax was a huge fan of Agatha Christie, his favorite book being The ABC murders, hence the name of the cafe. He couldn’t believe it that I had lived not far from one of the town’s mentioned in the story and I had been there quite a few times to visit the iconic De La Warr pavilion.

  The clincher came when I told him that I had a M.B.A from UC Davis; he had told Sergei then and there that he was hiring me as their new manager to which Sergei rolled his eyes and offered me a gruff “welcome, don’t fuck up,” and walked out the room. I have learnt over the first few months that is just his way. He really is a big softy and will go along with anything that Dax says.

  A year later and the Ginger cat cafe has become like a second home. I love everything about the place from the relaxed, warm family feel, the pseudo-1920’s decor; the fact that we use old cups, saucers and plates found in junk stores or donated by customers. The food is AMAZING. People come from all over the world just eat here. I have met the most wonderful and fascinating people; formed new friendships with colleagues and some customers.

  Which reminds me that I promised my elderly neighbor, Mrs. Fischer, that I would pick her up her favorite Raspberry and Pistachio cupcakes and the cap nip treats for her cat, Wilbur, the next time I was working. I’m not due into work until tomorrow. Alex won’t be in until later, not like he would care if I was here or not anyway. I don’t have anything else to do, so I’ll schedule an appointment with my OB/GYN first thing, that gives me a bit of time to get used to the idea. I think I’ll surprise Alex with the good news once I get the official confirmation. Our anniversary is coming soon, that would be the perfect time to tell him.

  With that in mind I head to the bedroom to change out of my yoga pants and tee and into jeans, a sweater and Toms before grabbing my keys and bag then head out the door.

  The cafe is only a fifteen-minute walk from our apartment building and on a beautifully, warm October day like this, it’s one of my favorite things to do. Despite living here for the past five or so years, it always surprises me how warm autumn is San Francisco. By now, back home, the air will have chilled and the leaves started to brown on the trees; the smell of bonfires would permeate the air, as we would ready ourselves for winter.

  When I finally get to my destination I take a quick peek in the window as I walk by and see that that the café is heaving with customers, in fact there is a queue beginning to form along the pavement outside. I ignore the glares as I breeze on past all the people lined up and walk to one of my favorite places in the world.

  A chorus of hellos ring out from everyone and Lindel, the main Barista and good friend, comes running around the counter, her coffee-colored cheeks flushed from the heat inside, her glorious dark golden brown curls bouncing along in her wake, she hugs me tightly before pulling back and looking at me with bewilderment.

  “Hey, what are you doing here? I thought it was your day off? Where’s Alex? He’s got the day off too right?” I respond with a halfhearted shrug.

  “He did but they called him in at the last minute. So I thought I would come and get some cupcakes for Mrs. F. You know what a sugar fiend she is,” I say trying to distract my friend from the fact that my husband had chosen work over me again. I can’t do with the pitying looks, not today.

  “Oh,” her nose scrunches up and she cocks her head to one side. “I’m sure I saw him not that long ago coming out of Pride and Peonies with a huge bunch of red roses.”

  “What?” It was my turn to be confused. Alex visiting a florist. On his own and without prompting? Blimey. “When was this?”

  “About an hour ago, I thought it was really sweet. Haven’t you heard from him?”

  “No.” Wow, he actually thought to buy me flowers. “He must be planning a surprise for later.” I almost squeal, knowing that I have the biggest smile on my face.

  Del returns my smile before her eyes widen comically, “Oh shit!” She shouts before slapping her hand over her mouth. This earns her a few looks from nearby customers. Her face turns crimson and she hurriedly apologies for her outburst then turns back to me to and says “I think I’ve just ruined a surprise for you. I’m so, so sorry Sum.”

  “Don’t worry Del. I’m just happy he got me flowers,” I laugh, “I promise that I’ll act all surprised when I get home.”

  “Make sure you do.”

  We continue chatting for a while as one of the others grabs my order. I can’t tell you what was said as I thinking about Alex and the flowers. It had been a long time since he had given me any. Maybe things were beginning to look up.

  Although Del is one of my closest friends, I didn’t mention my possible pregnancy to her. She is an admitted terrible gossip and the whole neighborhood would have heard about it within a couple of hours. I haven’t had it confirmed yet and, most importantly, I want to share my news with Alex first and not have him hear it from someone else.

  “Hello, Summer?” Del waves her hand in front of my face snapping me out of my musings, making me jump. “You still with us?”

  “Huh?”

  “You went off into a dream world.” She laughs.

  “I’m so sorry Del. What were you saying?” Horrified that I could be so rude as to ignore what she has been saying for the past five minutes.

  “I said do you fancy coming over to mine tonight? I have food, drink and I’ll rent Magic Mike for you. In high def.” She grins. “I’ll invite Lyssa as well. I could do with a good gossip and not a work one!”

  I consider for a minute saying yes. Friday nights are date nights for Alex and me, except we’ve rarely seen each other in the last few weeks, let alone go out on a date. If I think about it, Friday nights stopped being ours quite a while ago. I used to get so excited waking up every Friday morning looking forward to whatever we had planned, they were sacred to us. They were ours and ours alone, no planning to go out with friends, works parties. No, it was just us.

  Alex would wake me up the same way every morning with a searingly passionate kiss, while slowly and sensuously caressing my body. Building me up into a state of fervor until I was begging and crying for release. Only on a Friday he would pull away, whisper in my ear that he loved me before going to work instead of giving me a glorious, earth shattering climax; leaving me turned on, frustrated and wanting. I would be on edge the whole day, knowing what lay ahead. I would tease him with messages telling him what I wanted him to do to me, whether I wanted him to make love to me or pound me hard and fast against a wall. I would send him pictures of my naked breasts or of my smooth pussy while I fingered myself. Often prompting a message back begging me not to tease him, as he couldn’t walk. I would spend hours getting ready, so that to him I would be perfection.

  Our naughty texts would fly back and forth all day until finally; he would send the one wanted;

  I’m coming home.

  And I would be waiting for him, wet from anticipation for what the evening had in store.

  We were like this most days of the week, waking up with passionate love-making, flirting throughout the day and fucking like rabbits in the evening. Fridays though? Fridays were special. Until one day they weren’t, in fact no day was.

  He simply stopped kissing me every morning, getting straight out of bed and heading to work or for a run. There were no more flirty texts back and forth, his messages were to the point and matter of fact.

  Friday night date nights continued but his eyes would no longer turn dark with lust. Alex took no interest in where we were or what we were doing or what I had to say, his mind always seemingly elsewhere. The nights were the worst. He would no longer look at me with passion, his soft caresses became hard gropes, and the tenderness I felt in my heart was not return. Instead, he opted to turn his back on me after we had sex, not take me in his arms and hold me tight like he used to.

  This had been us every week until that fateful Friday night when I dressed in a beautiful new red halter neck dress which concealed the Victoria’s
Secret lingerie that I had bought specially. It was that Friday that I sat and waited for him to come home. And I waited and waited, finally giving up just before midnight. Taking off my beautiful new dress and sadly returning it to the closet, I went to bed and cried myself to sleep. When I asked in him the morning where he was, he simply shrugged and said he had gone out with some people from work and went for a run.

  Nearly every Friday since then has been the same.

  “Del, tonight is date night,” I say quietly, the smile on my face disappearing.

  I hope against hope that the flowers are a sign of things changing. That I won’t, once again, be left alone.

  “Oh sweetie, I forgot.” Del reaches out and rubs my arm gently. I haven’t told anyone else about the problems Alex and I having. I really didn’t mean to tell anyone at all, she found me crying one day in the tiny staff room in the back. For once, I couldn’t keep it in and told her everything. She didn’t speak; she just listened as I poured my heart out. When I finished telling her everything, she took a card out of her purse and wrote her number down, explaining that I could call her anytime and she would be a sympathetic ear. She told me that understood how I was feeling as she had been in the same boat with her ex. I’d asked her what had happened and to which she laughed and said that it was a long story and she would tell me over a drink or two. Over a drink or three she told me her story. It turned out that her ex-girlfriend, Zara had done many of the things that Alex is doing. Unlike Alex, Zara was cheating on Del. Del only found out because Zara had gotten pregnant with the man she was cheating with.