by B. L. Berry
Love is supposed to be patient and kind.
But what if we have it all wrong?
I know firsthand how love can be cruel. It isn’t always selfless or enduring and it wears a lot of disguises. Often the mask of an attractive man looking to claim whatever he wants as his own.
And sometimes love fails. You can give love everything you have to offer, and occasionally that still isn’t enough.
I can’t regret falling in love but I can hate myself for it. Loving Simon frayed the edges of my heart and left me feeling used, but with a new sense of confidence.
How did I ever allow myself to think that man was my life? How could I have been so foolish? Now, I realize he was merely a slow death. My death.
The one thing I’ve learned from that whole mess is that love is unforgivable. You unapologetically fall for someone. When done right, you lose control and lose yourself in them and in return they fall right alongside you. And even through hate and loathing and contempt, you can’t just switch off those feelings of love. Take it from me … I know. The short-term love affairs are capable of leaving the longest-lasting impact on your life. The heart never feels remorse for falling in love. But the mind does. And right now, my mind is a terrible place to be.
Getting over Simon is taking some time. But I’ve got an incredible—and patient—support system helping me each and every day.
I’ll never be able to forgive Simon for what he’s done, and some days I struggle to forgive myself for my blind hand in it all, but day by day, it is getting better. I’ve come to grips with the guilt and ever so slowly the vice is loosening.
I know she resents me, but it helps that Sharna forgave me for my part in it all. The last time I heard from her was right after her son Pierce was born. Having gone through that rollercoaster with her, I felt compelled to acknowledge the birth of her son somehow. His arrival marked a new chapter for her. She’s moving forward as a single mom and I admire the hell out of her for taking control of her situation, even though I don’t necessarily agree with her unconventional methods. But I went online and picked out a few small items off her registry and sent them anonymously.
The divorce proceedings advanced quickly and she was beyond pissed off that I never handed over the video file. She needed that evidence to fulfill a clause in the prenup to ensure she was entitled to her fair share of the assets.
But I couldn’t do it. I’m not that kind of woman. And Alex was right ... it wasn’t my mess.
Not that it mattered. Turns out she didn’t even need the file.
Simon went down without a fight, openly admitted everything and gave her almost everything he was worth.
Well, everything but his complete heart. He still tries to convince me that it’s me who has a firm grasp on that.
In the beginning, I answered Simon’s calls. Part of me felt guilty and pitied him. But another part of me wanted to make sure he was okay. There was a sliver in my heart that felt responsible for everything and wanted to try and clean up my mess — but that was short lived. After a couple of weeks, I started sending all of his calls to voicemail.
Then it got so bad I had to change my phone number.
Some fairy tale he turned out to be. I need to be okay never knowing if what we had was truly real. I know what I felt was most certainly real, but once trust is violated, you can never truly get it back.
Every relationship, no matter how strong you believe it to be, is actually quite fragile. Those little cracks in the foundation of any relationship, be it a tiny white lie or something more, is enough to cause your world to come crumbling down when you least expect it. How could I have been so naive to the unfairness of the world?
I should have learned from Jason. But somehow history repeated itself. I’m just thankful I learned the truth before it was too late because now I’m free to move on with my life. I just hate how he still has the power to consume my thoughts. It’s getting easier as the weeks and months slip by. I’m just looking forward to the day where Simon is merely a memory and a lesson learned.
I spot Alex approaching me through the crowd and sit a little taller on the bench. He’s beaming at me and his megawatt smile is enough to melt my frozen body. It’s strange. I’ve always felt more confident in the company of men like Simon and Jason. But the past few weeks, alone and focusing on nobody but myself, have been therapeutic. I wanted to make sure I was the best version of myself before I jumped into another relationship. And when I finally opened myself up to the possibility of being with someone else, I quickly realized that Alex is part of the reason why I want to be a better person.
“What took you so long?” I ask as he leans down to kiss my cheek. I take the hot chocolate from his hands, appreciating the heat.
“Well, my girl was cold because she forgot her gloves and refused to take mine. So I ran across the street and bought these for her…” Alex reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of luxurious black cashmere gloves from the little boutique shop on the other side of Millennium Park. “I can’t have you being a popsicle during the rest of our date.”
My cheeks hurt from the stupid, girlish smile his words have given me and there’s a glint in his eye from the golden iridescent tree lights.
“Thank you. Not just for the gloves, but for being so thoughtful and patient with me,” I whisper.
“Anything for you.”
Alex takes his seat next to me and nudges my shoulder with his. He looks so handsome in his charcoal wool coat and scarf. I slip my fingers into the gloves he just bought me then take the initiative, clasping my hand with his. My toes tingle when he gives it a squeeze. Together we sit in a calm silence. I’m watching the passing crowds and the glittering lights strung from the tree and a few unexpected snow flurries fall to the ground. But Alex? His eyes are trained on me. I can feel his gaze in my core.
“What?” I ask before taking a sip of my hot cocoa.
“Nothing.”
“Well, there’s obviously something on your mind. What are you thinking about?”
Alex’s mouth smiles subtly. Then he whispers, “This …”
Before I know it his lips are on mine—delicately, then all-consuming. The air is frigid against my cheeks and his breath is hot inside my mouth. I softly moan into his mouth and Alex deepens the kiss, like he’s pouring every ounce of passion he has into me. It’s the kind of kiss that began long before his lips ever touched mine, and will last long after we’ve parted.
I couldn’t pinpoint when I started having feelings for Alex if I tried. I guess on some level, I’ve always loved him. First, as friends and then in the unattainable way. And now I love the prospect of sharing something more. That’s the thing about Alex. What we have for each other never had a starting point. And it certainly won’t have an end either.
I never imagined that Simon would turn out to be the villain in what I thought was my fairy tale ending. But like all good fairy tales, there are hidden lessons along the way. He taught me that in life, and most certainly in love, there are no guarantees. You might not get that ring. You might not get that tomorrow. And you might not live up to society’s skewed definition of happily ever after. But rest assured, I know I’ll get my happily ever after. Because from this day forward I’m starting a new chapter on a new page in an entirely new book. So maybe the end is really just the beginning? And it all starts with my four favorite words:
Once upon a time …
Part Four
Simon
December
Forty-Five
An Unforgivable Mind
“So what happened exactly?”
“I cheated on my girlfriend with my wife.” There’s a sentence I never thought I’d say.
I watch Andrew’s bewildered expression as he registers the words coming out of my mouth. He shakes his head in disbelief.
“Bitches be crazy.” Andrew throws back the rest of his White Russian in one swift motion. “And you, my friend, need some time away from the crazy.”
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br /> No. What I’m in need of is some ass to make me forget the void that Elyse left in my heart. I could have stayed and forgotten about all the bad shit that happened between us. But instead, Elyse chose to leave and forget all of the good.
It didn’t take long for her to start dating Alex. I’ve seen him pick her up a few times at the office and I’ve watched them grab coffee and have dinner from afar. I thought I knew what real pain felt like but then one time I saw the way he looked at her, and I mean really looked at her, like she was the only woman in the universe and he felt she was created just for him. That was painful. Because that kind of look is reserved just for me.
Elyse is mine. And nothing will change that. But the truth is I needed her far more than she ever needed me.
Late at night I still dial her number. After a while she stopped answering and pushed my calls straight to voicemail. Now I have the privilege of listening to an automated message informing me that the cellular user I am trying to reach is no longer available.
Elyse blocked me.
She fucking blocked me.
The woman I thought I loved blocked me in every sense of the word.
Sharna, too.
And on top of it all, my fucking ex-brother-in-law Logan has been harassing me from afar and sending threats.
It was bad enough when I lost Carrie because I didn’t have the balls to break off my engagement. But Elyse was my salvation when I started to believe that true love would never happen to me. Don’t get me wrong. I loved Sharna. But not the kind of love that a husband reserves for his wife.
And even though I never married Elyse, that was exactly the kind of love I felt for her.
When I came clean to Sharna about being in love with Elyse, I was kicked out of the family business. It didn’t matter though. None of it mattered. Had Sharna never been pregnant, I would have walked away the moment I met Elyse. But no, that’s not how the cards fell for me. The fucking prenup wrung me dry emotionally. Right now I have no other choice than to get back out there and get those stupid bitches out of my head.
When you fall apart, you are the only one to pull the pieces back together. And this is the only way I know how.
“So have you talked to Sharna at all since you signed the divorce papers?”
“Nope.” I give that last little p in the word a pop for emphasis. And it’s probably better that way. If I were to talk to her, I’d be tempted to slice her open from her collarbone to pelvis and watch her bleed out in satisfaction.
She even refused to let me see my son. Fucking cunt.
As luck would have it, the bitch was after my money all along. I will never know how she knew that I couldn’t lay a finger on the twenty-million dollars from my grandfather’s will until I had a child of my own. But Sharna did and took it upon herself to fulfill the prophecy that would leave us financially stable beyond comprehension. But since I fucked up on the prenup terms, she’s entitled to three-fourths of everything.
But there isn’t a price I wouldn’t pay to get her out of my life. That right there is the sick humor and fucked up reality of the situation. Bitch.
What an actress.
Maybe that’s all we were? Two actors playing a role.
Hell, I know I was pretending for far too long. And the charade is exhausting to be honest.
But with Elyse I never had to pretend.
God … Elyse. The mere thought of her steals my breath away. I sigh and savor her sweet memory. Sometimes when I close my eyes I think I can still feel her next to me.
Fuckin’ A.
“Another one?” I wave my empty glass at Andrew.
“Nah. I need to sober up and get back home to the wife and kids.”
He’s fucking pussy-whipped. And a lucky bastard. I turn back around toward the bar and tap my fingers a few times. When I finally have the bartender’s attention, I’m forced to bark over the din. “Jameson on the rocks. And a water.”
The barkeep nods and turns to grab some ice and I start looking around the bar. Shitty music pulsates through the air and the celebutantes swarm the dance floor, gyrating on each other like the little sluts that they are. This place reeks of money. Twenty-something trust fund babies looking for a good time or maybe even a well-to-do husband. Old men with deep pockets full of Viagra and crisp hundred dollar bills looking for an easy target. And recent graduates who developed some bastardized smart phone app that hides text messages from secret lovers and then sold it for a few cool mil. If only I had known about that then.
Well, if only Elyse believed in fucking technology and not the magic of a pen and paper.
I survey the bar. I’m not sure what it is I’m looking for, but I’ll know it when I see it. Andrew pulls out his wallet and pays for my drink. He needs to stop pitying me. We both know I’ve done this to myself.
“You need a game plan, bro. Get your life back on track.” He sips his water like the pansy ass man he is then claps his hand down on my shoulder and grips it firmly. If he’s trying to reassure me after all the shit I’ve endured, he’s failing miserably. I have no idea how we ever became friends, but I’m running low on them and have no room to be picky these days.
“No. A plan is the last thing I need. I planned to divorce Sharna and then she got pregnant and I fell in love with Elyse.”
“Really, dude? You actually loved her?”
“Yeah, I did,” I say lowly in a moment of solemnity.
“Shit.” Andrew shakes his head skeptically.
There is no truer statement when your life has unexpectedly become all about a girl.
I shrug it off. “So fuck plans, they are just a premeditated collision course.”
The Jameson trickles down my throat and my insides are abuzz. I savor the burn as my eyes continue to scan the room. Looking. Searching.
And then …
You.
God, you’re beautiful. No. Not beautiful. Beautiful is a word reserved for sunsets and mundane bullshit unworthy of a proper adjective. You are stunning. Captivating. Hypnotic. All overflowing breasts in an all-too deep cut red v-neck shirt. You know exactly what you’re doing to me and any other person in here with a dick, all the while trying to play coy.
I finish the last of my Irish whiskey, imagining all of the things I could do to you.
“You gonna be okay, buddy?” Andrew asks, pulling my attention away. Asshole.
I say nothing, but nod.
Okay. That’s such a bullshit word.
“You know our couch is still open if you want it.”
“Thanks, man.” I don’t bother telling him I won’t need it because I just decided that I’m going home with you.
“Okay. I’m out. Be safe tonight.”
As soon as Andrew is out the door I search for you across the room.
Fuck. You are gorgeous. Long crimson hair. Full lips. Accentuated waist and feminine curves that is the envy of every woman in here.
And now you’re looking at me. And I won’t be the one to look away first.
Even from this distance I can see they are the bluest of blues. Red hair. Baby blues. No doubt as unique as your fiery personality. And I know it’s a matter of moments before you break eye contact.
Three … two … one …
You shyly look down and go back to your girlfriends and before I know it, they all look back to me. Nodding. Smiling. Approving.
But I don’t approach you. Not yet. If it comes too easily, you’ll just be a flash in the pan. The flame smothered out before the morning light even crests the horizon. Instead, I watch you. Like a lion tracks and lures its prey for hours before feasting.
And so you dance. You grab the hand of your girlfriend wearing sapphire blue and move with the beat of the music, allowing yourself to get lost in the wave of sound. You’re putting on a show. And we both know you’re doing it just for me.
After another whiskey or two, I crack my neck and take a deep breath before I cross the bar toward you, my beautiful blue-eyed woman in red.
Tsk … tsk … I don’t dance. Soon you’ll learn.
And so you edge a little closer and I coolly extend my hand to greet you. I bring my mouth closer to your ear so you can hear me. “Hi.”
“Hi,” you reply so softly I can’t hear the word.
“I’m Simon.” You look at your tiny hand in mine, wondering why I haven’t let you go yet. I won’t. I won’t let you go.
“I’m Chastity.” Your chest matches the increased pace of your breath and your nipples perk up through your dress. I fucking love how I have this affect on women, on you in particular. The edges of your beautiful mouth curl upward in delight or maybe excitement at the electricity passing between us. I’m not sure. Not that it matters. Because we both know those perfectly glossed lips will leave stains around my dick a few hours from now. It twitches in response, but I don’t bother hiding it. I want you to know what you do to me, too.
“Chastity,” I croon, saying your name in approval. It’s kind of hilarious because I know in one look that chaste you most certainly are not. I know. And clearly you know it by the way you are already fucking me with your eyes. I look back down at your soft, perfectly manicured hand in mine. And when our eyes lock again your cheeks flush rose.
You smile. Which makes me smile. And suddenly we are the only people standing here in the bar. You look down at our hands and I give yours a tender little squeeze. It’s about the only tender thing about me. Again, soon you’ll learn.
“Well, Chastity, would you mind holding this while I go for a walk?”
The End.
A Note from the Author
Dearest Reader,
For someone who has a passion for words, I always struggle expressing my sincerest gratitude. I hate the simplicity of the words thank you because I don’t feel like it does my appreciation justice. But really, thank you is exactly what I need to say and I hope you know that it comes from the depths of my heart.
