Previously yes. But you look a LOT better than me in all ways!
You still look hot to me, babe. I wish I didn’t want you right now… but I do.
Now that would be so much better than drinking wine with co-workers!!!
Well technically you would be drinking wine with a co-worker. But your co-worker would also be grabbing your naked ass and pulling you very, very deep inside of her.
Sounds really good to me… hey, how can I work with all these thoughts???
You want me to stop?
My day is almost over. It’s all good now, babe! Last time was so awesome. Esp the second time!!!!
Yeah, it felt sooo good that way. I’m having trouble keeping my mind off of it, actually. But next time I want you to prop me up on the counter and stand in front of me and slip it in really, really deep and then pull it completely out, and do that to me again and again, because I think that might be my favorite part, deal?
Mmmm. I do like it when a plan comes together…
That can also be arranged.
I knew they were heading out soon, so I told him to have a great evening and I would talk to him tomorrow. I hoped he had to sit there for a while waiting for his boner to go down.
****
He had appeared to be in better spirits lately. So, it seemed like a good time to talk about “us.” I told him I wanted to talk to him about something, so he told me he would call me once he was out in his car. When the phone rang, I was suddenly very nervous. I don’t know why, it’s not like I couldn’t tell him anything, but I always felt too vulnerable to ask him how he felt about me. He still paid me compliments often, usually on my intelligence, my wit, or my job because I happened to be helping him with a work situation. But he would never just come out and say that he loved me or even that he wanted me or missed me anymore. If I said it to him, he would respond back appropriately, “Me too, babe,” but it wasn’t quite the same as saying it on his own, like he used to, very freely and frequently.
His recent lack of attention and emotion made me uneasy, which was funny coming from someone like me. In just a few short months he had completely stripped me of all my defenses. He had somehow managed to break down all of my barriers and had turned me from a cynical, jaded ice queen into an emotional basketcase. Now I was a crier, a gusher, and a chronic over-sharer. I was also afraid I was going to scare him off or make him think I was too clingy. He knew how independent I was, in general, but now I depended on him for nearly all of my emotional support. But only because he had encouraged me to do so by being so incredibly supportive.
We had conversations in the past about how his wife was always fishing for compliments and how much it bugged him. I didn’t want him to see me like that. But the truth was, I was starving for them. He used to be so sweet and so interested. He wanted to talk all the time and for me to send him pictures every day. Now it felt like I was forcing them on him or being too aggressively flirty, and I had no idea what had changed. He never really let on that there was anything amiss, at least not between me and him. Maybe it was just because we were no longer “new.” I saw him so rarely that he was still new and exciting to me. I still had constant butterflies for him, but now they made me sort of sick instead of happy.
When I picked up, he said, “Hey sweetie, what’s up?”
“Not too much, what are you doing?”
“I’m just on my way to the gym. How was your day?”
We made a little small talk like we always did.
“So, what did you want to talk about, babe?”
“Well, I dunno, I was just thinking…”
“Noooo!” I could hear him rolling his eyes.
“Oh hush!” I fussed. “Everything has been pretty good between us lately, wouldn’t you say?”
“Yes, definitely,” he agreed. “I feel really good about you; feel really close to you, especially lately.”
“Okay, good,” I responded, feeling more relaxed. “I feel the same way about you. But you know I start to get a little crazy when we go for long periods of time without seeing each other.”
“I may have seen slight evidence of such a thing, yes…”
“I just want to make sure we are on the same page as far as expectations go,” I said. “So, I was wondering what sort of frequency works for you, in your mind, ideally?”
“Frequency?” he paused. “You mean like how often we should make love?” (Yes, he did say that, and I didn’t even mind it anymore).
“To put it bluntly, yes. How often we see each other,” I explained.
“Well, ideally, it would be daily or weekly. But with the distance, sweetie, it can’t be much more than monthly right now, you know?”
“No, I know, and that’s basically what I had in mind too. But it hasn’t been monthly.”
“I know, and I’m really sorry about that, but I’m hopefully going to see you in Miami, right?”
“Yeah, but even if you do, that means it will have been another six weeks. And what if you can’t make it, then what?”
“Then I’ll come see you right before or right after.”
“You have your bike race the week before. And right after makes it eight weeks. Do you see what I’m saying?”
“I do, but I’m sure we can work it out,” he promised.
“I don’t want to go for months without seeing you, Matt, it doesn’t work for me. I feel like I’m not important enough for you to make time for me. I don’t like it.”
“I know, but right now I’m planning on probably seeing you in Miami.”
“Probably!? That’s exactly my point. Do you even want to go anymore? If you don’t, it’s okay, I’d just rather you tell me now.”
“Of course I do, sweetie, but you know how it is, I have to go where the clients are and I don’t always know what time I’m going to have available until I have it.”
“Then make me a client.”
“Okay, I get it. I promise we will work it out, okay?”
“Okay.”
I was not okay. I was 99% sure he was not going to come to Miami with us. He kept talking as if he was, but I was seeing no action on his part to make any travel arrangements. I even asked Brooke if I was crazy or did it seem to her like he was still coming? She assured me he was telling her the same thing, so, no, I wasn’t crazy. Not about this, anyway. It was incredibly frustrating because the whole idea had been his in the first place. We never asked him to come. It was as if he just wanted to get my hopes up for nothing and keep them there so he could come along and crush them at the last minute. I found it really mean yet not entirely out of character for him. Because each time he did this, I fell for it completely. His intentions always seemed pure at first, but he just “didn’t want to disappoint me” in the end.
If he didn’t come, who knows how long it would be before I could see him after I got back from our trip. My mother was already watching my kids for five straight days. She would definitely need some recovery time. Plus, I had already asked her to pencil me in for late October when he would be coming up for the Grandover trip.
I knew I would have to come up with some crazy excuse for my mom… I just had to. I had become a slave to the idea of seeing him. It didn’t matter if he acted negligent or even like a complete asshole much of the time that we were apart. I just had to see him, and then everything would be okay. Then surely, he would realize how good we were together, and how much he loved me.
Going through the emails one morning, I was able to see that he had scheduled some meetings in Miami around the middle of September. So basically, he would be there the week before us. He would have to go home for his bike ride event, of course, so there was no way he was going to make it down to Miami the next week. I blew a gasket on the phone to Jules when I saw the emails. As usual, she had nothing but wonderful things to say about him and his behavior (is Foolassery an actual word?), but I didn’t say one word to him. If he wanted to act like it was a still a possibility that he would come right up until t
he end, then I would let him. I sent him a picture of me in a dress that I had bought specifically for Miami and told him: I may need help getting in and out of it. To which he replied, Looks GREAT, babe, how many times!?
Flames! Flames on the side of my face!
I knew he was looking to buy another property in Miami in the very near future. I think he liked the idea of being some kind of real estate mogul with a ton of rentals under his belt for income and tax breaks. He received emails from his realtor, Sofia, on an almost daily basis with links to apartment buildings or condos available for purchase. I never gave them much thought, really. I knew she had been his realtor for a couple of years and helped him find his other places. But then one day, I noticed a winky face. Realtors don’t usually use those, do they?
___________________________________
From: Sofia Silva (>[email protected])
Sent: Friday, Sept 7th. 8:47 a.m.
To: Wynne, Matt
Subject: 2 bedroom/2 bath beachfront
Hey Matt, here’s a great deal on a 2 bedroom over at the Murano Grande. Remember when we visited that one? ;)
The email was also from her Gmail account and not her business email. What kind of a real estate agent uses a winky face and a Gmail address to a client? A stupid whore, that’s what kind. Right away, I looked her up on Google. A very nice, professional looking photo came up. She was really quite pretty, a young Brazilian bombshell. Then I looked her up on Facebook. Fast forward ten years and add fake tits, hair extensions, and possibly lip and ass implants too. She and her giant collagen-injected duck lips were posing very suggestively. With her tits pushed up and her ass hanging out, she was definitely selling more than just real estate.
To make matters worse, he seemed to be creating more distance between us. He wouldn’t call all morning, and then he might send me a text saying he was “really busy” but would call me on his way out the door. When I talked to Brooke, things didn’t seem any more busy than usual. When we did talk, he was still very friendly. Almost too friendly, like I had been friend-zoned. He stuck to topics like work or politics but definitely nothing sexual. It was like he suddenly lost his mojo, at least for me. I tried to get him to open up a little during one of our calls.
“Do you remember, back in the day, when we were on the phone, and you would hang up and then go somewhere more private and call me back? I’d pick up the phone and you would say, ‘Listen, when I see you, I’m going to….’ and tell me all the things you wanted to do to me? Can I get that guy’s number again, please?”
“I know. That guy seems to have left the building lately. I have been kind of subdued on all fronts the last month or so. I’m trying to get it back.”
“You know you can talk to me, Matt. I’m an excellent listener in addition to being a sex machine. What’s going on with you?”
“I don’t know, babe, I’m just trying to figure stuff out.”
“With me?”
“No, not you, sweetie. Just in general. At work and at home.”
The next day, he would be fine again; laughing and joking, sending me political surveys, or the latest research on Netflix, a stock that I owned and we often argued about. I really couldn’t make heads or tails of it. I was thinking perhaps he was trying to avoid me because he knew he wasn’t going to make it to Miami, but he just didn’t want to tell me. But I knew that already, he didn’t have to tell me. And by this time, I was actually fine with that. I felt like I needed a vacation from his mind games.
He flew down to Miami for his business trip that Saturday. I didn’t even get so much as my usual Landed safe in MIA text. I knew he was also going to be looking at rental properties while he was down there, so naturally I couldn’t help but wonder if he was sleeping with Sofia on the side as well. I didn’t hear from him much at all that weekend, maybe a quick obligatory call or text just to check in.
That Monday wasn’t much better. I knew he had important meetings that day, but this was getting ridiculous. I told both Jules and Brooke that I had to say something. I was so over being ignored. I had to know if there was someone else taking my attention. Looking back, I wish I had just had the balls to ask him. At the same time, I did not want to piss him off and mess up our vacation plans. Brooke assured me there was no way that he would do that to us, even if we ended it. Late that afternoon I got a text: Lots of problems. Will call you later. Lots of problems is right, I thought. I fired off yet another of my patented, long-winded, guilt-inducing texts.
You know, I tried it your way, not overanalyzing things for a while. But I’m really not happy here. I must be looking for more of a traditional relationship than you are willing or capable of and it’s making me feel like I’m just another obligation to you. I know you have a lot going on, and I’m not trying to add to your stress. But I’m making myself sick by not saying anything and there is no good time to bring it up, because it’s always something with you. I’ve been pretty clear about how I feel about you. I’ve also given you numerous chances to bail out, and you haven’t. I don’t want to talk anymore unless you think this is something you want to continue. Please don’t keep me hanging on for convenience sake, as I’m pretty sure Raleigh is not ever going to be convenient. I’m not mad, BTW, but I’m tired of it always coming around to this.
He replied right away.
Hi Mal. I guess I feel like I met you at a bad time for me. I just cannot give you the time and attention that you need and deserve right now. I’m being pulled in so many directions, babe, I can’t even tell you. I do care about you a lot but I don’t see anything changing soon. I just can’t focus on you right now. So sorry, let’s talk tomorrow if you don’t mind or tonight after the dinner I have to go to.
That man had an uncanny ability to break up with you and work it out, all in the same breath. Did that mean he wanted to continue our relationship or not? I had no idea. So I responded with this, fully realizing that we were probably going to end it for good later that night.
After dinner would be nice so I could have more than five minutes. It’s not a matter of needing constant attention. You know that. I have my own life too. It’s about feeling like I matter to you. I totally get being busy, but even a two second text saying “can’t talk, lots going on” would go a long way. If you can’t even give me that, then we don’t need to see each other anymore. I don’t know, Matt, I felt much more connected to you the last time we were together and then it’s right back to this again. I guess I just imagined it.
I’ll call you later, okay? he replied.
To my surprise, when he called that night, he didn’t want to end it at all.
“Hello?”
“Hey, sweetie…”
“Hey.”
“Are the girls in bed?”
“Yeah, so far. I’ll let you know if I need to go.”
“Mal…”
“Matt…”
“Go ahead,” I said.
“Okay, first, I’m sorry. I know I fucked up Miami. I never should have suggested that I should go. I know it was supposed to be a girl’s trip and I should have stayed out of it. I really did intend to come, originally, but I had a feeling those clients were going to need me down there earlier.”
“I knew you weren’t going to come, I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just be straight up with me about it.”
“Because, sweetie, I feel like I’m always disappointing you. But the more I thought about it, there was no way I could make two Miami trips back to back. Sandra would never go for that. Plus, I forgot Molly is going to be out of the office at a cram course that entire week that you two are gone, so I’d have to be in the office until Friday. And everyone knows y’all are down there in my condo, so how fishy would that look if I was down there too?”
“Well, I wondered about that, but why not just say so?”
“Because I was really going to try up until the end.”
“Don’t you get how much worse that is for me? I had my hopes up for a MONTH. For no
thing. You don’t need to make me promises you know you can’t keep. It’s just not necessary. I’d rather have the ugly truth over a beautiful lie any day.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.”
“You know, you say that a lot…”
“That’s because I screw up a lot!”
At least he could admit it.
“Here’s what I want to do,” he added, “I want to come see you the Friday after you get back. I’ll come up in the morning, we’ll be able to see each other all Friday afternoon and spend the night together in a hotel.”
“But I could have had that for several nights in Miami. Plus, going out to awesome dinners, maybe some dancing, some frolicking on the beach, rubbing sunscreen all over each other. Come on, Matt. You and me, in Miami? There’s no contest there.”
“Yeah, I know, but this will be better because we will be 100% alone,” he insisted. “You know it would be really awkward if we were all in that condo together, it’s not that big. I know she doesn’t think so, but I guarantee Brooke would feel like a third wheel, even if I stayed somewhere else some of the time.”
“How are you going to come up to Raleigh on a Friday?”
“You remember my friend, Tess? The one I rode with?”
“Yeah. I remember the name, she’s gay, right?”
“Yeah. She’s been wanting me to come visit ever since she moved to Durham. No one else from our racing group has come to see her new place since she moved like five months ago. She’s pretty depressed about it.”
“But when would you see her?”
“Sometime Saturday afternoon,” he replied.
“Oh, okay. But I’ll have to make sure my mom can take my kids again, too. I mean, she’s got them the whole time I’m in Miami. She’s not going to be too jazzed about that,” I said, sounding doubtful. Although I had to admit, the idea of getting to sleep next to him overnight made me so excited I was practically jumping out of my skin.
“Well, she’s got a few weeks to get used to the idea.”
The Other Other Woman Page 20
