He scoffs. “Fine.”
I go to the closet and find a pair of flats to slip on. “I’ll be back later.”
“Yep,” is the only response I get.
With no idea where to actually go, I find myself driving to the office. I don’t put any music on, I just go. I feel like I’m not even present while driving. Does that happen to you? Where you don’t know how you got from point A to point B, but you made it fine.
It’s times like this that I wish the sun would be down. It’s still bright out, and once I park, I burst into tears. I really hope nobody walks by and sees me.
After the body wracking sobs, I’m left with tear stains on my face, red splotchy skin, and a headache from hell. I find some napkins that I had shoved into my console and wipe my face and blow my nose.
Even though I wasn’t able to read the email, the fact that some Stephany chick was emailing him about this weekend, and he tells me he’s leaving with Bill for some work thing doesn’t add up. He’s lying. I’ll have to find a way to get back onto his computer soon.
My phone dings.
Dr. C: Are you okay?
Me: Yeah. Thanks for doing that.
Dr. C: Am I going to get an explanation as to why I needed to?
Me: Do you really need one?
Dr. C: No. But I want to make sure everything is okay.
I think about it briefly. What could I tell him? The truth? That’s a little too much for having just met him. Anything else would be a lie, though.
Dr. C: Do you want to come over and talk?
After several seconds of me being in shock over him asking me to his hotel, another message comes in.
Dr. C: I can meet you in the parking lot.
Perhaps against better judgment, but with nothing else to do right now, and knowing I don’t want to go home yet, I agree.
Nearly twenty-five minutes later, I pull into a parking spot alongside the hotel, towards the back corner. Chris was already standing out front, and after spotting me, follows behind.
Before I left the office, I did my best to make myself presentable. I have limited makeup in my purse, but it was helpful.
I press the button to unlock the doors right as he approaches.
“Hey,” he says, climbing into the passenger seat.
“Hello.”
He studies my face, and even though I did my best to clean up, I’m sure it’s obvious I was crying earlier. I can’t do anything about red and slightly puffy eyes.
“So, what’s going on?” he asks, getting right to the point.
“Nothing,” is my initial response.
He shifts in his seat to face me, giving me a look that tells me he knows better. “Aria, I’m not stupid.”
“I know you’re not.”
“So, let’s just address the elephant in the car.”
I look at him with confusion marring my face. “What do you mean?”
He huffs. “Aria . . .”
“Chris . . .”
“I know you’re married.”
Even though I shouldn’t be surprised, I’m kind of taken aback when he says it. I mean, I’ve worn my rings around him, and didn’t do anything to hide the fact that I was married . . . except not bring up the fact that Aaron existed. Knowing that he knew the whole time, though, is strange. He never brought him up either.
“Okay,” I trail off, like I don’t think it’s a big deal.
“Okay, so you’re married and you needed an excuse to escape your house in the middle of the night.”
I sigh. “I know.”
“Why haven’t you talked about your husband?” Genuine curiosity paints his face.
With a shrug, I tell him, “I don’t know. Why would I?”
“I don’t know, maybe because another man asked you to lunch twice, and you didn’t think to say, ‘Hey, I’m married.’”
“That’s not fair. You asked me as a friend. A co-worker even. I was being nice and taking you around town. We had lunch, so what? If you knew I was married, then why did you ask me out?”
“I’m not married,” he says matter-of-factly. “I can go out with whomever I want.”
“We didn’t go out like you’re implying.”
“We had very flirtatious moments, and exchanged a few heavily charged innuendos.”
“So? That’s my personality.”
“Is it?”
“I guess you wouldn’t know.”
“What I do know, is that you’re obviously not happily married.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because a happily married woman would have brought up her husband during conversation, especially since we covered a lot of topics over our last two days together.”
With a defeated sigh, I say, “You’re right. He and I have some issues to deal with. It’s a lot of stuff, and way too much to lay on you right now, but I don’t want you to think I’m a bad person.”
“If I thought you were a bad person, I wouldn’t be wanting to see you. Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure.”
“Are you going through a divorce?”
“Not right now.”
He gives me a furrowed brow look. “But you will be?”
“It’s complicated, Chris. I’m pretty sure he’s cheating on me. He doesn’t know that I’m onto him, and I’m trying to get all of my ducks in a row before making a move.”
“Huh.” He rubs his palm over the hair on his jaw while looking out the window. “Interesting.”
“It’s a mess. My life is a mess.”
“What happened tonight?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s meeting up with some girl. When I asked him about plans this weekend, he said it was for work, but I know better. I just couldn’t be there with him, pretending everything is peachy keen.”
“Yeah, well that sounds like quite a situation you have over there.”
“It is, and I didn’t want to put any of this on you. I apologize for including you in my mess, but I needed a reason to get out. I felt like I was going crazy.”
“No need to apologize to me. I’m happy to help.” He gives me a reassuring smile that makes me feel a tiny bit better.
“I guess I’ll need to go home soon,” I tell him, looking at the time.
“I’m glad you came out and talked to me. I’m sorry for what you’re going through. That man must be insane, because you’re a hell of a catch.” He winks at me, making my heart skip a beat.
“I think you’re talking about yourself,” I say with a hint of a smirk.
“Oh, right.”
I playfully push his arm. “Well, thanks for listening.”
“Anytime.”
His hand touches the door handle, but he pauses to look at me, like he’s contemplating what he wants to say or do. Eventually, he just smiles and exits the car.
“Goodnight,” I call out.
“Have a good night, Aria,” his deep voice responds.
I’m left alone in the car as I watch him saunter to the front of the hotel. When he disappears from sight, I take a deep breath and ready myself to return home. It’ll be nearing nine o’clock by the time I get back, and I can only cross my fingers and hope Aaron is asleep.
It’s been three days since I fled my house in the middle of the night, ending up in my car with Chris at his hotel. It’s been three days since I’ve talked to him as well. When I returned home that night, Aaron was upstairs, so I stayed downstairs to re-heat my Chinese food and ended up falling asleep on the couch.
Things have been somewhat tense between us, but he doesn’t know why. He thinks I’m moody because he’s going away for the weekend. That’s kind of true, but not because I’ll miss him, only because I know what he’ll be doing.
I haven’t been able to get onto his computer because he’s been taking it with him to work. I don’t have his passwords, so it’s not like I can log in from anywhere.
It’s Friday, and he’s upstairs packing for his “work trip” this weekend. He te
lls me that he won’t be back until late Sunday evening. I don’t question why he’s leaving for “Fairbanks” at six o’clock at night, considering it’s a seven hour drive. He tried mentioning in passing that he had to get work done today, and they didn’t need to be there until Saturday afternoon anyway.
I just nodded my head and went along with it. I’m sure it’s just because Stephany is here in town, and he doesn’t have to travel all that far at all.
When he comes down with his bag, he stops next to me as I’m in the kitchen making dinner for myself.
“I’ll miss you. I’ll try to call you, but you know how service gets out there.” His face screws up like he’s annoyed, but it’s a good enough excuse for him to not call me at all, and he knows it.
“That’s fine. Be safe.”
He puts his hand on my lower back and leans in for a kiss. I turn my head slightly, allowing his lips to barely touch the corner of mine. He studies me for just a few seconds, like he knows something’s wrong with me, but he doesn’t want to take the time to figure it out.
“Kay. Love you,” he says, leaving through the garage.
“Yep. Bye.”
This leaves me in a weird predicament. While I hate that he’s leaving me to go fuck some chick all weekend long, I’m kind of happy to have the house to myself. No more pretending. No more awkward, forced conversations, and no more goodnight kisses that make me wonder where else his lips have been.
I serve myself a plate of spaghetti, putting the rest in a Tupperware dish for later. The soft, comfortable couch welcomes me, and I find a cute romantic comedy to watch on TV.
My phone rings as I’m finishing my last bite of food, and Janna’s name and picture flash across the screen. The picture is one I took of her at the Alaska State Fair. She’s holding a pork chop on a stick in one hand and a chip stick in the other. The chip stick is a whole potato cut into spirals around the stick, and then fried. They have everything on a stick in that place. Chocolate dipped bacon, hand dipped ice cream with a variety of toppings, you name it. Go to the fair and gain twenty pounds.
Janna has wild, shoulder length, brown hair. It’s naturally curly and she leaves it that way. She doesn’t bother trying to straighten it, so she’s got a mess of curls on her head at all times, but it looks good on her. She’s petite at five foot three, but there’s a whole lot of feistiness in that small frame of hers. She doesn’t let anyone get away with bullshit, and she curses like nobody’s business. I love her for it.
After I put my plate away, I call her back. I’ve already made it up in my mind that I’m not going to tell anybody that Aaron has gone away for the weekend. I don’t feel like having the conversation about it, and I know Janna is going to tell me to just get up and leave while he’s gone. I wish it was as easy as that, but I have nowhere to go.
My dad left Anchorage several years ago, choosing to live down on the Kenai Peninsula in a town called Homer. It’s about five hours away, but I’d never want to move down there. I love Anchorage too much. My mom re-married when I was eighteen and moved to the lower forty-eight. We try to visit each other from time to time, but it’s hard for both of us to get away from our jobs. She helps her husband run a B&B in a town in Wyoming.
“Hello?” Janna answers.
“You rang?” I ask, rolling my r.
“You’re a nerd,” she says with a laugh. “What’re you doing?”
“Not much. Just got done stuffing my face. What’s up with you?”
“Not a damn thing. Well, that’s a lie. I’m at fucking work, but I’m bored off my ass, so technically it’s true. Not a damn thing.”
Janna works in the Fifth Avenue Mall at the AT&T store. She’s been saying she wants to find a new job, but I think she actually likes not having much to do at work.
“Not busy, huh?”
“Nope, and I have to be here another couple hours. Ugh.”
“Sorry,” I say with a laugh.
“Whatever. Entertain me. What’s been going on in your life?”
“Work, work, and more work. You know, the fun stuff.”
“Boring,” she sings. “Tell me about Dr. Hot Stuff.”
“I have nothing to tell,” I say with a small chuckle. “He’s not working yet, and I haven’t talked to him in a few days.”
“Let me know when he’s working. I might come down with a cold so I can have a looksee at him.”
“Whatever,” I laugh. “Hey, do you have plans for this weekend?”
“Yeah. Work.”
“Boo.”
“I know. Why?”
“I want to go hiking or something. Take a look at Thunderbird Falls, or hike up to Byron Glacier.”
“You don’t want to go with that stupid husband of yours?”
“Uhh . . . no. I work tomorrow, but only for half a day, then I have Sunday. I was hoping you’d be off.”
“Unfortunately, not. What about Carm?”
“Eh. She hates being outside.”
“You should still go. Enjoy some alone time with the outdoors. It might be good for you.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“Shit. My stupid boss is looking at me. Gotta go. I’ll call ya later.”
“Okay. Bye.”
She hangs up quickly and I’m left with nothing to do.
Aaron took his computer with him, saying he needs it for work. I was hoping to be able to read that email and print it off as evidence. I only have one email from the Have an Affair site, confirming his account, and a couple emails he exchanged with someone named Trish. Nothing in their exchange gave me proof of an affair, though. I kept them anyway, just in case, because it seemed like more than a work associate. They talked about a dinner they had and some inside joke about somebody else. It was vague, and could be someone he works with, but something in my gut says it’s more than that. The last message I was able to see from Trish was her asking if everything was okay. To me, that sounds like a woman questioning their status. Maybe they had a fight.
My phone buzzes with a text from Carmen.
Carm: What’s going on?
Me: Nothing. What’s up?
Carm: I’m at work. Aaron is here.
I shouldn’t be surprised. Carmen works at the hotel he takes his whores to. Does he not know that that’s where she works? She just recently started working there, but I was sure I brought it up before I knew of his room there. What a dumbass.
Me: With someone?
Carm: Yeah.
Me: Can you snap a photo without them seeing?
Carm: I’ll see what I can do. I think they’re leaving now.
Me: Leaving the bar or the hotel?
Carm: Hotel.
Me: Is she a redhead?
I assume she gets busy with work, because I don’t hear back from her. Hopefully she’ll be able to send me a picture of them together.
I’ve been putting part of my paychecks into a brand new account, getting ready to be on my own. Up until now, we’ve put our money into the same account and didn’t worry about how much the other one made. Everything was ours to share. Now, I need to establish my own account and make sure I have some money in case he decides to be an asshole and remove the money so I can’t leave him.
With nothing else to do, I eat a bowl of ice cream before heading upstairs. It’s nine o’clock on a Friday night, and while my husband is having the time of his life with some bitch, I’m in my pajamas in bed. Something about this doesn’t seem right.
I think briefly about texting Chris just to have someone to talk to, but I resist. It’s not a smart move. We should keep our relationship a work related one. The attraction, the spark, whatever small connection we have needs to die down. Though we’ve only been together three times, each one of them was spent alone, talking, laughing, joking . . . flirting, and any more time together could only lead to trouble. But sometimes trouble can be fun, and I think I deserve a little fun.
Since I have to work half a day tomorrow, I decide to try to fall asleep. It tak
es a while, but my restless mind finally gives in and succumbs to unconsciousness.
I couldn’t sleep for shit, so when I wake up at five forty-five, I stay up and start getting ready. I arrive at work at seven-thirty, a full half hour before I’m due, but that’s okay. I’m only staying until one, and then I plan on going home to change before hiking to Thunderbird Falls. I could use the fresh, outdoor air and exercise. I always feel good when I’m down there by the water, and that’s what I need right now. To feel good.
Once inside, I turn on the TV in the waiting area, get the coffee started, and boot up the computer. With only fifteen minutes before opening up, I make a quick trip to the restroom. While I’m washing my hands, I hear Scott come inside and walk through the waiting area.
“Morning, Scott,” I announce as I approach the receptionist’s desk.
“Well, good morning, Aria.”
The voice doesn’t belong to Scott. The aging, white-haired man I expected has been replaced by the sexy-as-sin, dark-haired Chris.
“Oh,” I say, taken by surprise. “What’re you doing here?”
“Working,” he states plainly.
“Obviously. Why isn’t Scott here?”
“He asked me to come in because he had something come up. Plus, this is a good time for me to get started. It’ll be slow, and you’ll be here to show me the ropes.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest as he leans back on the counter and smiles at me.
I grin. “I’m sure you know what you’re doing. You’re the doctor.”
“Well, we’ll make a good team, I’m sure.”
Instead of responding, I try to distract myself by looking anywhere but at his well-built arms. He’s got a long-sleeved, crisp, blue button up on, but it showcases his biceps and forearms perfectly. He’s going to give a lot of women hot flashes before it’s their time to get hot flashes.
Jesus. Is it hot in here?
“Yeah, maybe so,” I respond. I clear my throat and walk around the desk. “Let me see if there are any scheduled appointments. Usually Scott doesn’t schedule many on Saturdays. We’re mostly open for walk-ins, and Scott uses the time to do whatever paperwork he needs to get done.”
Think Again Page 6
