Book Read Free

the Dance

Page 11

by Alison G. Bailey


  “God dammit! Give me the phone back, Bryson!”

  “I want to read the text!”

  “You have a lot of fucking nerve!”

  I tapped on the screen and scrolled through until I saw Val’s name. Just as I was about to open the message, Will slapped the phone from my hand. Will and I had had arguments before but never had they come close to physical.

  With his jaw clenched, he growled. “Fine! You want to know who Val is? She’s a woman I met through VL and we hit it off. She asked for my number and I gave it to her. She has a boyfriend and she knows I’m married. It’s just a friendship.”

  “Then let me read the text,” I said through clenched teeth.

  “For Christ sake, Bryson! I already told you everything. I haven’t been online for a couple of days that’s probably what the text is about.” He paused for a moment. “I’m not giving you the phone. I haven’t done anything to cause you to mistrust me. This is all on you and your insecurities.”

  Snatching the phone from the floor, he roughly pushed past me, stormed down the stairs, and out the front door. Even from inside the house the screech of the tires in the driveway pierced my ears.

  Dazed, I walked back into the room and sat at the foot of the bed.

  He promised he’d stop all non-work-related online activity.

  I believed him.

  He’s been lying all this time.

  Trying to clear my head and get my thoughts in order, something occurred to me. From the night I caught him in the office until this morning, Will has never actually apologized for any of his actions. He’d justified them and made excuses for them, but never appeared to be remorseful for them. He’d witnessed my tears and heard my gut-wrenching sobs, but neither made an impression on him. I felt like such an idiot thinking he cared about saving our marriage just as much as I did. A committed marriage was about two people coming together to make a life, each putting in the effort even during the times when they didn’t feel like it.

  These past five months had all been a lie. A façade. An act. Will played the part of the overworked dutiful husband seamlessly. But why? If he truly didn’t want to be with me we could end it easy enough. There were no children involved. And after all these years he should know I wasn’t a money grubber.

  My head swirled with questions as piece after piece of my heart broke. I crawled under the comforter, pulling it over my head, and let the realization that our fairy tale had ended and there was no going back consume me.

  The passage of time ceased to exist while I was barricaded in my comforter cocoon. As I alternated between sobbing and screaming into my pillow, memories flooded my mind. I dissected every part of my history with Will in an attempt to discover any clue that might explain when the first misstep occurred.

  Will admitted to having gone on porn sites since he was in middle school, which meant from the very get-go of us it was a part of our relationship, unbeknownst to me. I remembered after we had been dating for several months, Sophie was surprised we hadn’t had sex yet. High school boys, especially athletes, have a ton of testosterone flowing through their veins. If they weren’t ramming into an opponent on the field then they’re ramming into some girl willing to give up that part of herself. Will never pressured me into sleeping with him. At the time I thought I was the luckiest girl around. My boyfriend was patient and sensitive to my needs. Now I’m wondering if that was all an act too. Had the past ten years been for show?

  It’s hard to put into words the feeling that hits you when you realize that the one person you gave your heart and soul to was an imposter. All at once you question your judgment, your choices, and your worth. After my body was completely drained of sobs the only thing I knew for certain was that I couldn’t share any room in this house with this man at this point.

  Funny how the mind and body kick into autopilot when your entire world implodes. Eventually, I dragged my tired body out of bed and took the liberty to move all of Will’s clothes to the downstairs guestroom. Thank god when dreaming of our home we dreamed big.

  I was unaware of how many trips it took me to make my room completely void of any evidence Will existed. I moved robotically between the two bedrooms until I dumped the last armful of clothes into his new sleeping quarters.

  I mindlessly headed into the kitchen, turned on the Keurig, pulled out a stool from the breakfast bar, and sat down. Staring out the window across from me, I concentrated on the last leaf hanging from the River Burch tree in the backyard. For some reason I was mesmerized by it. A red robin landed on the branch and pecked a hole in the leaf. The bird flew away but the brown blade didn’t let go. I watched as several gusts of wind whipped the leaf around, causing it to spin and twist. Then it snapped, unable to hold on any longer. The leaf swirled in the air, going up and down until finally it crashed to the ground. I could sympathize with that poor leaf.

  The click of the Keurig turning off caught my attention but I remained glued to the seat. It was as if I didn’t know what to do next, how to function. Like moving Will’s clothes had zapped any energy from my body. My brain was drifting into sleep mode and I could feel myself shutting down. Everything moved in slow motion. Time was irrelevant. I didn’t feel any sensation. No thoughts took root in my brain. Somehow I managed to climb the stairs to my room, crawl into bed, and pull the covers back over my head. And that’s how I spent the rest of the day.

  I didn’t speak to or look at Will for the next two weeks. It’s surprisingly easy to avoid a person who has betrayed you even when living in the same house. Will was gone all day at work and by the time he came home I was tucked away upstairs. Whenever I talked to my parents I acted as if all was normal. Sophie was on a business trip across the country. She sounded like she was having a great time and I didn’t want to ruin it with my news. If truth be told, I just wasn’t ready to let the world know my marriage was over.

  During the two weeks my emotions bounced erratically all over the place. One minute I could be crumpled on the floor heaving with sobs. And the next minute I’d be walking around the house tossing and slamming things in anger. It was like I was beating up my own house. I had no frame of reference for a failed marriage. My parents had been together for twenty-five years and both sets of grandparents celebrated their fiftieth wedding anniversaries. Sophie’s parents divorced when we were nine-years-old. To their credit they never put her in the middle of their problems. So I was at a loss as to what direction to go in.

  Joanne was incredibly supportive and helpful. She told me to be gentle and allow myself to experience whatever emotions I needed to at the time. She gave me words of encouragement but was honest, saying time and distance were the only two things that would heal a shattered heart. She advised that a strong support system would make things easier but understood I needed to tell my family and friends in my own time. She also helped me make a list of the practical things I needed to consider if I divorced Will, like how would I support myself and where would I live.

  Ending a marriage was complicated, both emotionally and financially. With the ebb and flow of my emotions, I still had to consider the practicality of the situation. I basically went from my parents’ house to living with my husband, I was twenty-six, never held a job, had an MBA but wasn’t really trained for anything. Will was definitely in the driver’s seat when it came to money matters. Not only did he earn the sole income but he handled the more involved financial aspects like insurances, investments, and retirement funds. I kept reminding myself I wasn’t incapable of learning or handling new things. But when you discover the man you thought you’d spend the rest of your life with doesn’t want you, it annihilates your self-esteem and worth.

  My pride didn’t allow me to want any of Will’s money, I just wanted to stay in my home. Every inch of this house was a part of me. I took time and planned the look of each room. And my kitchen was not only the heart of the house but my heart as well. As I went over the logistics and basic numbers of keeping up a house this size on my own
I realized it was impossible.

  It was nine o’clock at night and I was already in my pink and gray flannel pajamas sitting in bed. With a stack of papers fanned out in front of me, I was going over the monthly budget, attempting one last time to make the numbers do what I wanted them to do. I’d been looking at them for so long my eyes were blurry and my brain scrambled. The only way I’d be able to stay in my home was to stay with Will. Maybe we could live together like we’d been doing for the past two weeks, him downstairs while I took the upstairs.

  I leaned back on my pillow and closed my eyes. Was I making too much out of the porn sites and Val text? Was labeling it cheating wrong? My head kept trying to justify what he’d done. My heart wouldn’t let me believe what he’d done. But my gut kept telling me what he’d done was cheating. And I wasn’t sure if I could get past that feeling and learn to live with it. My stomach growled with hunger, which made me realize I’d not eaten the entire day. Will was already home but my stomach wouldn’t shut up. I figured I could dash downstairs, make a sandwich, and get back up here without running into him.

  I crept down the stairs trying not to make any noise. I took in a deep breath and forced my legs to move across the floor as quickly as possible. As I passed the hallway that led to the guestroom, I heard his deep voice and laughter. Before I knew what was happening I found myself parked outside of the bedroom door.

  “You look fucking hot tonight,” Will said.

  I didn’t hear anyone respond. He was either on his phone or online and using his headsets.

  “No, she’s still pouting. I kind of like it in the guestroom, though. Means I can spend more time with you uninterrupted.” He paused, followed by a chuckle. “I doubt it. She wouldn’t be able to support herself.” Pause. “I never did, really. She was more my parents’ idea than mine. Fit the role.”

  His words pummeled me in the gut, my stomach taken over by spasms. My knees weakened, almost causing me to fall against the wall. I couldn’t think less of Will at the moment but I still didn’t want to believe our entire life together was a lie.

  “Mmm . . . I wish I could feel you in real life.” Pause. “We could meet halfway.” Pause. “Don’t worry about that, baby. I’ll pay for everything.”

  I slapped my hand over my mouth in an attempt to stifle a gasp. He was actually making plans with this woman. If my heart didn’t want to accept Will’s cheating before, it sure as hell was being forced to now. Not being able to stomach any more of the one-sided conversation, I walked back upstairs. My growling stomach was quiet and hollow. I couldn’t wrap my head around what I’d just eavesdropped on.

  Will never loved me?

  How could I have been with him for ten years and not felt this? I remembered there being times during our relationship when I was pushed aside, not a priority. I always blamed it on the amount of pressure Will put on himself. I understood and learned to adapt. He always wanted to perform at the highest level possible for his coach and for his parents. But other memories of us as a couple . . . the way he looked at me, smiled at me, made love to me. Those couldn’t have all been performances too. Will’s parents expected a lot from him, especially since Alex was a lost cause in their eyes. I couldn’t believe that my in-laws gave their blessing to our union just because I fit their description of what a daughter-in-law should be.

  I shoved all the papers off my bed before climbing under the covers. I rolled onto my side, curling up into the fetal position. My life with Will flashed through my mind like one of those picture flip books. Our first year of dating Will ran so hot and cold. One minute he’d be all over me and the next he was too busy to bother with me. I was so nervous on our wedding day. I never could figure it out but something felt off. At the time I excused it as normal new bride jitters. I didn’t know if I’d convinced myself or let others do the job. But looking back, I’m not so sure I chose him.

  Time flies when you’re reevaluating and readjusting your life. Three months and an entire season had passed. Will and I continued with our unconventional living arrangements. He tried talking to me whenever we were in the common areas—the family room, the kitchen, the entryway, the backyard. The chatter was never about us. He’d talk as if everything was normal. The atmosphere was weird to say the least. Will was keeping up appearances and I went along for the time being. To the outside world, including our families, we were still the perfect couple.

  I confided in Sophie, of course. She was extremely supportive, offering me the extra room at her place and helping me get job ready. But fear was an all-consuming irrational monster. It was hard for my best friend to understand why I hadn’t left the marriage yet.

  “It’s pretty cut and dried to me. He’s a slimy motherfucker who used you. Leave,” she said.

  Sophie had kidnaped me one evening for some well overdue girl time. Since she had the next day off and there was drinking involved, I planned on spending the night at her place. We were sitting on her patio enjoying the cool mid-April night air. Each of us snuggled under a lightweight fleece blanket, holding mugs of coffee laced with Bailey’s.

  “Sophie, it’s not that easy.”

  “Sweetie, I realize you have limited experience in the men department but you can’t let that stop you.”

  Sophie didn’t believe in monogamy. She thought it was an unnatural concept. But she did believe in honesty and if you made a commitment you stuck by it.

  “The reason I haven’t left yet is not because Will is the only man I’ve been with. It’s because Will is the only man I thought I’d ever be with.” I paused, swallowing the lump in my throat. “And it doesn’t matter what he’s done or how much pain he’s caused or even if it’s all been an act for him. I wasn’t acting.” Tears welled up in my eyes. “I’ve thought this way for ten years. I can’t stand to be around him but I also can’t just flip a switch and let go as if everything had been a lie.”

  Sophie looked at me blinking back her own tears and said, “I’m so sorry you’re hurting but I get where you’re coming from. Just know I’m here when you’re ready.”

  I nodded my thanks.

  As the night continued we sat sipping more Bailey’s than coffee while Sophie told me about her latest business trip adventure. It felt good to hear what was going on in her life and how happy she was in her career. Sophie may not have had a special man whom she wanted to have a future with but she knew who she was and was confident in her abilities. I envied that.

  Mid-April soon became mid-May, closely followed by mid-June, July and August. Eight months of living like strangers had passed. I knew something had to give and it had to be me. Will seemed perfectly content with the arrangement. His standing as a good husband and son were still strong in the community and in the eyes of his parents. Plus, he got to spend time screwing his cartoon cunt in the Virtual Life world whenever he wanted to. Not to mention other screen skanks.

  With Sophie’s encouragement I decided to start looking for a job. I needed to gauge where I was in the market in terms of any usable skill set. I mean, I had an MBA from a respected university. Maybe there was more opportunity out there than I thought.

  “So, Mrs. Forsyth, your resume is a bit . . . thin.” Mr. Hawkins pointed out.

  The pudgy and balding older man sitting behind the desk eyed me up and down. The job was for an administrative assistant at Hawkins Insurance. Not the most exciting job out there but my life had enough excitement in it.

  I fidgeted with the strap of my purse, hoping Mr. Hawkins couldn’t see over his desk. “Yes, Sir, I realize that. But I’m a quick learner and my computer skills are good.”

  “I really need someone with more experience or any experience for that matter.” He chuckled condescendingly.

  “It says here . . .” She pointed to the spot on my resume with her dark blue nail. “. . . That you graduated two years ago from Newberry. Whatcha been doin’?”

  My gaze bobbed from her neon pink lips to her yellow hair that was brighter than the sun.

 
“I got married.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  This chick couldn’t have been more than nineteen years old and she was already a manager at the cellphone store.

  “So were you like taking care of your kid or something for two years?” Her pitch shot sky high on the last two words.

  I glanced down as my heart felt a twinge. “No, I wasn’t taking care of my child.”

  She picked up my resume with the tip of her shiny nails and deposited it into the drawer next to her. “I’ll let you know if anything opens up that matches your particular skills.”

  “The ad said you were looking for a sales associate. I have an MBA. I can talk cellphones with people.”

  “Yeah, we prefer our associates to have some background in sales not basketball. But I’ll keep your resume for future reference.” She patted the side of the drawer.

  “I just need someone to give me a chance.”

  “It’s probably not going to be us, though.” Susan, the manager, gave me an apologetic smile.

  I thought shifting gears toward something I loved would give me better luck at finding a job. So, I applied at one of Charleston’s most popular downtown restaurants, Tommy Condon’s.

  “I’m sorry, Bryson. It’s just the restaurant is so fast-paced that we really need wait staff that know their stuff. Once you get some experience under your belt, please come back and reapply.”

  At least she was the nicest one to tell me I sucked.

  Three days and three ‘no thanks’ later, I wasn’t exactly feeling top notch about my job prospects. I knew it would be hard getting hired since I had no experience. But how the hell was I going to get any if no one wanted to give me the opportunity? After the last no thank you, I decided to head home.

 

‹ Prev