by S. P. West
Yay! I love you!!! XXXXX
To which my husband…MY HUSBAND, had responded.
I love you too, baby.
Baby.
Another woman had told my husband that she loved him; he’d replaced me with another woman. This wasn’t something that had happened after we had split. There, for all the world to see, was the irrefutable proof of my husband’s infidelity.
Do you know what the worst part is? The worst part was see that Alex loved her back. He had fallen in love with someone else; he’d been cheating on me. How long had it been going on for?
Despite my heartbreak, I scan down a bit further.
Thank you for last night xx
There was no doubt that he had been sleeping with her. While I had been lying in bed, crying myself to sleep wondering where the hell my husband was, why wasn’t he home. All the time he was in bed with that slut.
“Summer. Stop it.” Violet tries to take the laptop away from me. “Don’t do this to yourself.”
“NO!” I hit her hand away and scroll back to the top of the page, clicking on one the notifications of the pictures that Alex had been tagged in.
It was a picture of Alex with his arms wrapped around her on what looked to be the same beach from his profile picture. They are both smiling sickeningly at the camera, looking every inch like a couple happily in love.
Like a woman possessed, I click on each photo.
Some of them are of her on her own, blowing pretend kisses at the camera. Some are of him posing by a pool, by the side of the road, on the beach…
Then there are the ones where they are together, holding hands, kissing at sunset.
The tears that I had held back began hitting the keyboard.
When did he go on vacation with her? It can’t have been in the last week.
I glance at the album information, which, stupidly (or deliberately) she set to public so that anyone could see – my heart sinks as I see that the album is title ‘Maui’ and in that instant I just know. I know what was coming but I can’t stop myself.
In the album description she’s written a note saying:
With my honey in Maui – June 2012.
June.
The date I’d booked for us to go to Maui.
Maui.
The vacation we couldn’t go to because Alex was attending a conference, a conference in Wisconsin he’d said. As stupid as it may seem, I’m suddenly hit by the realization that there wasn’t a conference. If there was, it certainly wasn’t in America’s dairy land.
No, no, no this can’t be right. There must be some mistake. Alex wouldn’t do this to me, he wouldn’t, I know he wouldn’t.
Violet gives my hand a gentle squeeze in a vain attempt to comfort me as I numbly stare at the screen. The room starts to spin around me; the usually loud and happy sounds of children playing in the park on the green are muffled, as though I’m listening through water. My vision begins to blur and I know that this is it.
I’m about to die from heartbreak.
“Close the screen babe.” Violet’s concerned voice breaks through the haze bringing me back from my shock. She speaks softly to me as though I’m a wounded animal. I want to close the laptop, to shut the lid, to take away this suffering but I can’t. I can’t tear my gaze away from the picture of Alex and her in front of me. I can’t take my eyes off the caption underneath the photo of them wrapped cozily around each other, lying on a beach towel. The home-wrecking whore had the fucking cheek to write:
True Love <3 <3 <3
I try to stand however my legs give way causing me to collapse back down on the couch.
“Talk to me Summer.”
I can’t. I open my mouth to say something but no sound comes out. The room, once again, begins spin. I can feel my heart pounding furiously in my chest. My throat feels like it’s closing, my breath is getting shallow. I can’t breathe. As I clasp my throat in desperation, trying to take in large gulps of air, I feel Violet leap off the couch before swiftly returning and shoving a paper bag in my hand.
“Breathe in to the bag, Sum.”
Putting the bag to mouth, I can vaguely smell lavender as I start to inhale.
“That’s it, nice even breaths.” Violet continues calmly.
With each breath and the sound of Vi’s soothing words, I can feel my body return to normal.
Well, as normal as you can be when you’ve found out the man you love has been cheating on you.
“What’s wrong with me?” I say to Violet, in between breaths, sounding remarkably like Bane from the Batman film that I saw a few weeks ago.
“I would say a panic attack, doll.”
“I felt like I was dying.”
“Yep,” she gives me a wry smile, “I take it you’ve never had one before?”
I shake my head no. “I started getting them after Gran died.” Which causes me to pause at this tit bit of information. “Keep breathing” she says automatically. “First one happened in the frozen aisle at Sainsbury’s, just after the funeral. You’d come back here by then. Thought I was going to die in the middle of a fucking supermarket. I was rescued by some lovely old lady who calmed me down by telling me all about her cats; all twenty of them. Doris, was her name. She even called Seth for me so that someone could pick me up. It happens fairly regularly since then. Although I think I’ve got it under control now.” I stop breathing into the friggin’ bag and look at my best friend. Why did she never tell me? Why did Seth never tell me either?
Had I been so caught up in my new life in another country with Alex, that I lost sight of what was happening to the people I love?
Alex.
Just the mention of his name makes me to pause in my reflection. It’s then that make the mistake of looking again at the flickering screen in front of me. Deep from within a another wave of pain hits me full force.
I know that from now on my life will never be the same. I honestly don’t know there is anyway in world we can undo the damage he’s caused.
I can’t see a way back from this, I just can’t.
I feel so stupid; why didn’t I see earlier that Alex was closing the door on us. He couldn’t have given me a louder message today if he tried. No, Alex hasn’t just closed the door on any chance of reconciliation – he’s slammed that door so hard that it’s shaken the foundations of who I am, who I thought I was.
Alex broke his vows to me. Sleeping with another woman, telling her he loved her. Lying to me time after time.
He doesn’t want to fix this, if he did he would be here with me but he’s not.
Where the hell is he?
Deep down I know the answer. He’s with her. I’m nothing to him now.
The sad thing is that I know that I’ll end up alone just me, and the baby.
The man I loved is gone, that’s plain for me to see. The one in his place looks like my husband, talks like my husband, hell he even smells like my husband yet this man is a stranger. My Alex would never do this to me, my Alex wouldn’t kick me to the ground and keep I don’t recognize this Alex, this isn’t the man I married.
Yet, part of me wants to try. To see if we can repair this mess.
I can’t turn off the fact that I still love him and somewhere, deep down, he must love me too.
I can’t forget that he lied about the vacation I’d booked, he hadn’t sold the tickets; he’d gone on the holiday, the one meant for us. Instead of taking me, his wife, he took his fucking mistress with him instead.
Mistress. Alex has a mistress.
“Oh god! I’m going to be sick.”
As I leap off the couch in my sudden need for the bathroom, I bang my knee.
I can hear Violet calling after me but I ignore her, only just making it to the toilet in time as I retch over and over again, until I can be sick no more.
It was then that I finally succumb to pure agony I feel as I let the sobs wrack my body.
Oh god.
Alex was seeing someone else before we split.
He lied to me; he told me there was no one else.
He loves her.
He is seeing someone else.
He loves her.
He took her on vacation. The one I had booked for us.
He loves her.
He loves her.
What else has he lied to me about?
Oh god oh god oh god.
I can’t deny it anymore; my husband is cheating on me. My marriage is over.
I try placing my hands over my eyes in a pathetic attempt to stop the damning images of Alex’s infidelity that I keep seeing. Several emotions battle for dominancy within me; anger, hurt, humiliation, denial, grief. I’m feeling them all acutely right now.
The Alex I love is gone, replaced by a stranger I don’t recognize.
I don’t think he’s ever coming back.
SUMMER
SEVERAL HOURS LATER, I’m curled up, once again, in a ball on the floor of the bathroom absentmindedly stroking my stomach. The sickness has slowly subsided; the heartbreak hasn’t. The pain that I’m feeling both physically and mentally only keeps increasing. The cramps I have in my stomach are steadily getting worse by the hour. At the forefront of my mind is the constant thought that I’m losing the baby, which only makes me cry harder.
The last week has been one crappy thing after the other and now I’m possibly losing the only thing that has given me any hope.
I alternate between quietly sobbing to an all-out howl of agony as I try desperately to purge the despair that I feel out of my body. I’m so tired of crying, it drains you of so much energy. Who’d have thought that such a simple, natural act could leave you so physically and mentally exhausted? Yet I can’t stop no matter how hard I try. Even now, hours after finding out that my husband is a lying, cheating arsehole; my cheeks are sodden with the unwanted tears of pain and anguish.
If I lose the baby…If I lose the baby, then…then…I can’t I just can’t.
Please if there is a god, someone out there. Please do not take my baby from me I beg you.
I don’t think I could cope with the loss of my precious little bean inside me, on top of the loss from life of his father.
I can’t keep thinking like this, I just can’t.
Instead, I try to focus on the shouting and banging that is coming from the other side of the bathroom door. Outside my little sanctuary, an almighty argument is raging; it’s one that has been going on for the past half hour.
Two deep male voices and one female voice echo in my tiny cocoon.
Some of what they are saying is muffled; I can’t quite make it out. Occasionally I hear the slam of a drawer punctuated with Violet’s incredible lexicon of swear words. Trying to block it out by putting my hands over my ears is useless. As hard as I try nothing can drown it out. I’m surprised that the police haven’t been called yet; would serve the twat right if he got arrested.
“Summer will you open the hell up?” The sudden bang on the door combined with Alex’s angry demand makes me jump. I curl into a tighter ball in a sort of defense mechanism.
“I told you to leave her the fuck alone, cocksucker!”
“And I told you to stay the fuck out of my business, you stupid little bitch!”
“Just pack your stuff and go arsehole.”
“Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do in MY FUCKING APARTMENT!”
“Alex,” the low voice of Becks interjects, “back off.”
“Oh what, you’re on her side now?”
“It’s not about taking sides; it’s about doing what’s right. I love you man, but at the moment you’re acting like a complete dick!”
“Fuck you!”
“No, fuck you,” Becks shouts back. In all the years I’ve known the gentle bear of a man he’s never once raised his voice to anyone. “You’re the one that left asshat, which means that this isn’t your home anymore. You don’t get to dictate to anyone. Your beautiful wife is locked in a room sobbing her heart out and you’re not even concerned about upsetting her. Why don’t you just pack your shit and go back to whatever that slut’s name is?” He pauses for a moment as if to let the words sink in.
“I want to talk to Summer.”
“Why? What good is going to do when you’re acting like this?”
Alex’s response is muffled.
“Why are you doing this Alex? What’s happened to you? This isn’t you.” Becks sounds like he is almost in tears as he begs his best friend, the man he calls his brother, to give the answers that we both desperately want the answers too.
“Just get out of my way!” Alex growls.
“No!” I can hear Vi’s voice directly outside the door and I know that she has placed herself in between Alex and the door in an effort to protect me. I send a silent prayer of thanks that I locked myself in. “Just…just get your stuff and get the hell out!” Vi yells before letting out a piercing scream. The pain in my stomach intensifies as I cower in fear. I can hear the sounds of a scuffle before there is a heavy thud on the door as someone is pushed into it.
“GET. OFF. ME!” Alex rages, there are more bangs that cause Vi to shriek once more. I need to stop this; I have to get him out of here. To get my friends away from the monster that is in my apartment. As I slowly uncurl myself, very sharp cramps cause me to double over. The pain is getting worse.
“Please hold on,” I whisper to my unborn child, “please, don’t leave me. Mummy loves you.”
It takes me a few attempts to stand, I resort to using the side of the bath tub to lever myself up. Once again the cramp like pain hits me as I double up, crying out in agony. Outside the door the argument continues to rage, three voices were blending into one.
“Calm the fuck down.”
“Summer…Summer, babe are you okay?” The door handle rattles as Violet tries to open the door, “Summer talk to me.”
“I said I want to speak to my wife.”
“Not until you’ve calmed down, asshole.”
“Get out of my way.” I’ve never heard Alex speak this way to Becks before.
“No!” Becks booms.
“Summer!” Violet voice is gentle as she raps on the door, “Sweetheart, please open up.”
“Just move out of my fucking way, Becks.”
“Back off, Thorson.”
“I haven’t got time for this shit.” Alex’s voice is low and I know that he is barely managing to contain his temper. “Summer,” He bellows, finally addressing me. “I need to talk to you.”
I stumble blindly to the door, gripping the lock trying to steady myself as a fresh wave of pain hits. My vision starts to fade before coming back again as the pain subsides.
Somehow finding the energy and strength, I unlock the door and yank it open with such force that slams against the wall, shocking the three people in front of me to silence. I focus solely on my errant husband. The hurt and anger that I have felt coming to the fore giving me courage to face him head on. A sudden cramping pain threatens to bring me to my knees, yet somehow I manage to hold myself steady as a sudden rage comes bubbling up to the surface spewing forth a fire and hatred.
“Out!”
Alex’s eyes flash with what I could only describe as awe before quickly shutting down to the cool, icy arrogance that I’m used to.
“Sum…” He says stepping towards me.
“I said get out!”
“S...”
“Now!” I snarl at him.
Alex looks from me to Becks, to Vi, then back to me. His shoulders sag as he realizes that this is a battle he cannot win. He opens his mouth to speak before closing it again. The angry man of before is gone and I’m left staring into the caramel eyes that I so adored.
“I need to get my stuff.” As he speaks another cramp hits me causing me to clutch my side and bite down hard on my bottom lip. Once again, starts towards me, his face full of concern and for fleeting, blissful moment I think I see ‘my’ Alex - the man I fell in love with.
Becks and Violet also start towar
ds me before I lift my hand up, effectively stopping them in their tracks.
“Do. Not. Touch. Me,” I hiss.
The seconds tick by as Alex and I glare at each other in silence.
If looks could kill then that man would be dead and buried six feet under, after he had been slowly picked apart by vultures.
Alex, however, look oddly contrite. The sad-eyes only serves to enrage me. Despite the agony that I’m in, I pull myself up to my full height and force my face to remain neutral.
“Just get your shit and go.” The temperature in the room around us seems to drop with the amount of ice that laces my voice. Alex’s eyes widen comically as his jaw drops in obvious surprise at the way I’ve just spoken to him. If the situation weren’t so devastatingly serious, I would’ve laughed at his cartoon character style response. With my gaze solely on him, I wait patiently for his answer. We continue to be locked in a silent battle of wills as my gaze bores into his. I can see the emotions flitting across as we war with each other over who will break first. I may be hurt beyond belief; I may never forgive him for what he is done but I refuse to sugarcoat his actions for him. He needs to see this; to see the pain he has caused me.
Alex can in no way justify his actions. Not to me and, maybe when he looks back, not to himself either. If he does ever suddenly wake up and realize the consequences of his affair, I need him to remember this. To remember my face, my actions, my fortitude. And do you know what? I pray his actions and the thought of all he has lost, will haunt him for the rest of his life.
I pray that he will be plagued with dreams of all that he has lost. I pray that he one-day grasps what he gave up when he threw me away. Finally, I pray that if he ever comes to his senses that he figures out that there is a fine line between love and hate, that it will hit him that this was the day that he crossed that line.
