The Other Other Woman

by Mallory Lockhart

  He started calling again, and like an idiot, I answered it. Angrily. “What the hell is the problem? This better be good!”

  “How long have you been seeing this Matt?” his voice cracked.

  Awww shit. Think fast, Mal, think fast! “What makes you think I’m seeing anyone?” Ahh! Deflect with a question! Excellent!

  “I know you are seeing him.”

  The last thing I wanted was for him to run out and get copies of my texts to use against me in court, so I decided to play it safe with the friends card.

  “Matt and I are friends. I am friends with a lot of people I work with. What is it that you think you know, Nate?”

  “I saw some text messages in your email account…”

  “Wait, what? You are going through my email?!”

  Before I found out that there were better ways to do this, I used to email pics or texts from Matt that I found particularly cute or funny over to my Zoopie email account, so they could be deleted off my phone. But I sent them out of my regular Gmail address. Normally I would have deleted all sent items right away, but with Nate out of the house I really didn’t think I needed to worry about that anymore. I was wrong. He was still very much trying to catch me in something. I frantically searched my phone and found the copies of texts he was referring to. One was me joking about the shower, which was very flirty but admitted nothing. The other was completely benign. So he had no actual proof of anything.

  “I know, I know. I went looking for trouble and what do you know, it looks like I found it. I saw your little picture of him in the gym… What the hell is going on with you two? You left me for him!?”

  “We are just friends right now,” I replied flatly. Hell, that was sort of true. I felt like I hadn’t seen him in months! “We’ve been friends for a long time. We work closely together,” I continued. “And, yes, we do flirt with each other sometimes, but things are way too complicated right now on both sides. I really have no idea what will come of it, if anything.”

  “Oh, so he’s married too, then?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. I never pegged you for someone who would run off with a married man,” he said, in a very accusing tone.

  Hey, pal, neither did I. Neither did I. “Well, it’s a good thing I haven’t run off with him yet,” I replied coldly. I could hear the doctor flipping through my file outside the door. “Nate, I absolutely have to go. Stay out of my email.” I hung up and promptly changed the password on that account.

  I’d been going to Dr. Paxton since I was 18. She delivered both of my babies (via C-section) and my niece as well. She was incredibly inconveniently located since I had moved, but I just loved her because she did everything in lightning speed. She was in and out so fast you barely had time to realize you’d just been violated. She was recently divorced too, so I felt like she would be pretty sensitive to my plight. After my exam, as suspected, she asked me if I had been under an unusual amount of stress because I definitely was not pregnant.

  “Yes, most definitely have been stressed out, especially a few weeks ago,” I said.

  She asked me if I was okay, and I assured her I was. I explained that I had my “long distance boyfriend” coming into town and asked if there was anything OH SWEET JESUS PLEASE that she could give me to keep my period at bay. Just through Monday. That’s all I needed!

  She paused for a moment and said, “There’s really nothing I can think of because once you’ve ovulated, it’s pretty much a done deal.”

  My heart sank. But then her eyes lit up.

  “Wait! I do know of one thing! We give women who have excessive bleeding a synthetic hormone called Norethin Ace. If you are only going to need it for five days, you can try it. I can’t guarantee anything. It might hold you off for a few days or at least make it lighter if you do get it.”

  “I don’t think I have to tell you how desperate my situation is, wink wink,” I laughed. I left her office with Norethin and birth control pill prescriptions in hand, a very happy girl indeed. I immediately texted Jules the good news. She texted back.

  Woman, you are insane. I’ve never seen anyone work so hard for oral sex. You whore.

  We had called each other hooker, whore, and skank interchangeably for years, so I knew it was a term of endearment. Once I was in the car, I called to tell her about my conversation with Nate.

  “Yikes! Do you think he bought it?”

  “I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter at this point. Other than I don’t want him calling Matt up or his wife, or my boss, or something equally as stupid. So I’m not going to admit to anything right now.”

  “Um, no. No I wouldn’t either. Screw that.”

  “I suppose he could try to say I was guilty of adultery since we aren’t legally separated on paper yet, but that’s just because he refuses to talk about anything related to the kids or house so I can get an agreement drawn up.”

  “Well, yeah, he’s been acting completely unstable for months.”

  “Even if he could get me on it, it gives him nothing. If I was asking for spousal support, which obviously isn’t happening, then they would refuse to give it to me if I was found guilty of adultery. Otherwise, it has no effect on anything. I already asked my lawyer about it weeks ago.”

  “Spousal support from him? Hahahaha! Very funny!” she laughed.

  “I know, right? But the last thing I want is for him to get the courts involved in trying to pull text records because that wouldn’t be good for anyone.”

  “Noooo, definitely not!”

  “Oh God, I cannot imagine the look of shock on his face if he ever saw the way Matt and I talk to each other. He would never believe it was the same woman he was married to.”

  “I know! It’s bad enough that I have to see it!”

  I filled my Norethin prescription right away and took one on my way back to work. Unfortunately, Dr. Paxton had not warned me that one of the side effects of the medication is that it makes you feel like you are going to start your period at any given second. That’s always good for the nerves. Every few hours Jules would text me a period euphemism like, “Has your monthly bill arrived? Are you riding the cotton pony yet? Did you check in at the Red Roof Inn?” We looked up all kinds of old wives tales on the internet just in case there was something, anything else I could do. I just had to wait and hope the medicine would work, while feeling dreadful, bloated, and crampy the entire time.

  By Friday, I felt like I had to tell Matt that there was a very good possibility I would not be fresh as a daisy the next time I saw him. He totally laughed at me. “I told you before, sweetie, it really won’t bother me. You are the one that gets all freaked out about that.”

  “Well, yeah, that’s because it happens to complicate or eliminate some of my favorite activities with you!”

  “So, we’ll get in the tub. No biggie.”

  “Still. It’s just a pain to deal with all around.”

  “I know it is, but either way it’ll be fine. Don’t worry about it.”

  He always knew just what to say. Then he added, “But let me know if it shows up.”

  And I thought, didn’t he just say it didn’t matter?

  When I talked to him Saturday, I told him it was all clear.

  “Okay, cool. I’m probably leaving around 1 p.m. tomorrow afternoon so let me know in the morning if it shows up.”

  “You are still coming either way, right?”

  “Yeah, of course, sweetie. I’ve already got my bag packed.”

  I told Jules I was starting to have a weird feeling about this.

  “Oooh, is it your period?” she teased.

  “No, I’m serious. I just feel like he’s going to back out.”

  “Why would he do that? It was his idea to come up tomorrow, right?”

  “Yeah, but he’s cancelled on me before.”

  “I think he would have told you by now, no?”

  “I would certainly hope so. Things have been so much better lately. He’s been rea
lly good about calling. He’s been really sweet and attentive.”

  “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine then.”

  “If he does back out, that’s pretty much it.”

  “What, like IT it?”

  “Yeah, I can’t keep going through this with him. There’s no point in us being together if he doesn’t actually want to see me.”

  “You have a point there.”

  ****

  That Sunday morning, I woke up so incredibly happy. There was still no sign of my period, and I was going to get to see my boy, finally, after nearly seven weeks. I was walking on air. And then, with one little text, my whole world seemed to fall apart.

  Mal, I’m sorry, I think I have food poisoning. I’ve been throwing up since 3 a.m.

  What. The. Fuck.

  I couldn’t even respond. I just burst into tears and called Jules trying to tell her through uncontrollable sobs what he had said.

  “Oh my God! Dude, I am soooo sorry! I don’t even know what to say!”

  Once I got control of myself I told her, “I knew it! I knew he was going to do this! I could feel it! And it’s no coincidence that he picked vomiting! He knows I have a huge fear of vomiting! It’s not like I’m going to make him suck it up and come up here with that! ARRRGH, I can’t believe he is pulling this shit! I am so stupid!”

  “I would break my foot off in his ass, Mal. What did you say back?”

  “Nothing yet. If he thinks I’m going to tell him ‘Aw poor baby, feel better!’ and let him off the hook, he can go fuck himself. He’s probably seeing Katya instead. No sense in driving six hours when you don’t have to.”

  “You really think he would do that to you though? If he’s seeing her, he can see her anytime, right?!”

  “I have no idea. But I have to end it. He’s made that perfectly clear.”

  “What are you going to say?”

  “I’m not sure, but I can’t do this anymore.”

  “You realize he’s not good enough for you, right? You don’t need his stupid old ass.”

  “I know. I just wish that I felt as little for him as he does for me.”

  I was able to compose a short response to him.

  Let me know how you feel later, knowing full well he wasn’t coming. An hour later I got another text.

  I’m trying to rally but I just keep throwing up! I want to see you!!!!!!

  Fuck you, Matt Wynne. Fuck. You.

  While I was still sitting there, shell-shocked, trying to think of what I was going to say, he called me. I was in no state to be able to talk to him so I just let it roll to voicemail. It made me so angry I could barely listen to it.

  “Mal, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it. I… I just can’t keep anything down. I can’t eat, I got no sleep. It sucks. I’m sorry. I’ll call you later so we can chat.”

  Chat about what, exactly? His complete and utter disregard for my feelings? I knew if I called him back I would chicken out and be unable to say everything that I wanted to say to him at that moment. He could always soothe me over by phone. Always. So, I fired off one very long-winded text. I wasn’t sure if he would even read the whole thing, but at least I put it out there.

  I have tried my absolute best to keep this thing (I don’t even know what it is) going with you, but clearly it is time for me to let it go. I don’t understand why you continue to make future plans with me when you don’t actually want to see me. It’s so incredibly hurtful and confusing. I moved a lot of things around, turned down other plans, and really messed with my body trying to make sure everything was just perfect for you this weekend. Because I missed you and wanted to see you so much. I realize now that the feeling is not mutual. Canceling at the last minute like this seems particularly cruel to me, yet I was expecting it. I was really hoping that this time you would prove me wrong. There have been so many signs and I just ignored them all because I really wanted to believe that our “bond” was different somehow. But now I’m the one that feels like puking. I really wish we could have had something, Matt.

  I was surprised to get a lengthy text back. His texts were normally so short and stoic.

  Mal, I cleared my schedule tmrw to see you. I do care about you and would so rather be having dinner with you than throwing up. I can’t drive 6 hours, stopping every hour to puke on the side of the road. I take responsibility for this, but how am I to know not to eat the seafood gumbo? Sorry you feel this way because I think we have a GREAT bond. And I WILL make it up to you and show you. Going to go puke now.

  I have no idea how to respond to you, I replied. I obviously don’t matter to you. This is just not a battle I can ever win.

  I didn’t hear from him for another couple of hours. Well you should be disappointed, but I expected some sympathy. Puking all day is not romantic. Neither is diarrhea. So tonight would have been a nightmare, not a dream, he answered. Despite all that, I hope you enjoy the day off tmrw. I’ll be trying to feel normal again.

  What a manipulative prick.

  You are missing the point. It was like pulling teeth to get you to pencil me in for a visit. Then you couldn’t come because Ivan “might” do something. Then it was for Marshall & Company’s big options exercise. And I felt like you were just praying for me to get my period so you could get out of this one too. Why on earth would I need to beg a man to sleep with me? How would you feel if I kept blowing you off like that?

  It’s not like I don’t notice you don’t call as often as you used to. Once upon a time you didn’t mind that we were blowing up each other’s phones all day long. So what happened? I have a good guess. If you are ill, then I feel terrible for you. But the fact that I’m still sitting here going “Wow, wonder if he’s really sick?” doesn’t say a lot for the state of our relationship. You lied to me before and under the circumstances you have to admit this is pretty suspicious timing. I don’t understand what you are getting out of me. It’s certainly not sex. I obviously care deeply about you. I am obviously physically attracted to you and I love our friendship, but I don’t even get the bare minimum anymore. So I have to assume someone else is. I can’t tell you how sad the whole thing makes me.

  I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day. Typical. I sent everything to Jules so she could tell me if it made sense and got my point across. She said she thought it was good, and she was glad I finally spoke up.

  The next morning, I received more from him. 2 things. First, over the last two weeks my wife and I are talking about splitting up after 25 years and it has been weighing on me. Secondly, I could have tried harder the previous 2 times. I know that, but yesterday I was packed and ready to go. So you are wrong about that because I wanted to see you and have no drama. My body did not cooperate so you can believe what you want. I still feel like crap today. You don’t need to respond to the above. Maybe we can talk on the phone tmrw or later this week if you want.

  Why, so you can have all day to spend with your girlfriend uninterrupted? I thought. I had no idea if he actually was seeing Katya or anyone else. I certainly hoped not. The idea that a man could be married and having multiple affairs seemed like an awful lot of trouble, especially for a man his age. But I could not shake the feeling that I was being played. What other reason could he possibly have for not coming up? Then the thought did occur to me that he really could be sick, and it filled me with dread that I could have freaked out and ruined our relationship over my own paranoia. So, I tried to soften my response just a little.

  You have talked about splitting with your wife FOREVER. Maybe you should just stay. What it comes down to is where I fit in with all this. If someone was really that into me, should it be this difficult to see me? It’s fine if you aren’t. But one day I think this is over, and then the next day you are all hot and heavy again. I never know which Matt I’m going to get, and that’s not really fair to me, is it? Do you really think I’d rather be sitting here “believing what I want” instead of lying in bed with you right now, kissing you and touching you
? Because this is a blast, let me tell you! :(

  He replied: I agree that it’s not fair to you and I wanted to make it up to you yesterday. I apologize.

  I’m sorry you still feel like crap. I wasn’t really. I hoped his intestines were twisted up into pretzel knots, actually.

  He texted midday: Last night I ate half a bowl of soup, today nothing so far.

  Well, boo-fucking-hoo. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer to that one.

  Later that afternoon, I heard from him again. Why was he continuing to keep me in the loop if he didn’t care enough about me to see me?

  I had bought a small gift for your birthday that I planned to give you. Can I mail it to your home or somewhere?

  Oh, just great. I thought for a moment and responded.

  All I wanted was a kiss.

  Sorry I screwed that chance up.

  UGH. Must. Resist. Bullshit.

  Just hold on to it for now. You didn’t need to get me anything.

  Monday morning I noticed that he told Jeff in an email to get his own coffee because he was “still quite ill from yesterday” and didn’t know if he would be in. They usually met at the office in the mornings since they were the first two to arrive that early. Brooke also confirmed he had called in sick with “some stomach thing.”

  He was waiting for me to decide whether or not I wanted to talk to him again, so that Tuesday I sent him a should we talk? text. He said he was going home for lunch and would call me in 10 minutes. He was getting ready to leave that afternoon for Miami again.

  “Hey, sweetie,” he said.

  I guess he felt much better.

  “Hey.”

  “How are you?”

  “Fine.”

  “And you sound fine!” he said sarcastically. “So let’s talk.”

  “Are you going to tell me the truth?” I asked. “I really don’t like the direction this is heading, Matt. If you don’t want this anymore, you need to stop stringing me along and just say so.”

  “Mallory, I swear to you I was sick,” he claimed. “I don’t know how I can make you believe that. I was packed and ready to get in the car to come up. I wanted to see you. I still want to see you, very much.”