by Maggie Way
“Technically, you should be the one listening, and I should be the one screaming and throwing things at you. But go ahead, enlighten me,” I say brusquely.
“I know what you are thinking right now, and I’m sorry you had to find out this way…” he pauses, furrowing his brows. “I was going to tell you everything, but the right time never came up. My work got in the way, then you were always busy with your business.” He says the last word with such contempt.
“Being time-poor is your excuse?” Is he really going to use that as an excuse? That our schedules got in the way of him dropping this bombshell that is the irretrievable breakdown of our relationship?
“It’s not just that. You never have time, the business is the only thing you think about,” his voice grows louder with agitation. “You even talk about it in your sleep.”
“What are you trying to say? Because I had a job, correction business to run, you cheated on me?” I can’t hide the anger in my voice.
“You were never around, you couldn’t even make it to my birthday,” he says quietly, the blood draining from his flushed cheeks.
“Don’t you dare use that against me. You know how sorry I was, but I was in Bali for goodness sake. You can’t blame me for my flight getting delayed.”
He raises a hand to silence me. “Work is always something keeping you away.”
Oh. I never for once thought this would be about me.
“You know I always try and stick to Sydney weddings because I know you hate me being away. But this was a massive client and the money was too good to pass up.”
I can’t believe I have to justify this. Why is he berating me? This conversation is not going anywhere in the vicinity I thought it would go. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. He’s attacking me, when he should be getting down on two knees begging for forgiveness.
“So you cheated on me because you got lonely, or because you hated the fact I had a job I loved? If you can clarify for me that would be great.” I give him a dirty look.
He looks at the ground, pursing his lips. “You were never around.”
My chest constricts, and my mouth starts to go dry. I am emotionally bankrupt. There’s nothing he can say to remove the swirling black void that has enveloped my heart.
“At the risk of getting angry again, can you at least tell me what happened with you and Katerina? Spare me the revolting details, I beg you,” I murmur, closing my eyes.
“Laylay…I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” He was perfectly happy to tell me what I did wrong, but now that it’s his turn to fess up his wrongdoing he wants to run.
I open my eyes and glare at him with utter fury. “You. Do. Not. Get to call me that anymore. Get to the point. NOW!”
“Alright, alright. Geez, bossy much? We were just co-workers, completely professional. Nothing happened for ages.”
“Then what? Obviously something did. Was it when…” I clench my teeth at the thought, “Did you cheat when I was in Bali? Your birthday…”
I see the guilt flash in his crystal blue eyes. My stomach convulses. I felt so bad about missing out on his birthday, buying him loads of presents and he did that? The man in front of me feels more and more like a shadow of the man I thought I knew.
“It was just a kiss” At my raised eyebrow, he adds, “Okay fine, we made out. But we didn’t sleep together I swear!”
I scoff, and then almost laugh. “Well, that makes it all okay, doesn’t it? That you didn’t put your penis inside her. Well done, I’m so proud of you. And here I was thinking that you two were tragic star-crossed lovers, given what she wrote.”
He raises his arms in exasperation. “I swear, she’s fucking nuts. I told her I wanted nothing to do with her after that night, that it was a total mistake. But she’s gone full psycho on me ever since. I’ve had to request to work out of the office as much as possible. I’m not seeing her anymore, I promise you.”
My mind scrambles through the contents of the letter and I pick out the parts that match the brevity of his statement.
…I'm frightened to be without you, but bearing in mind 'the rules' you will not know how I am doing and vice versa...
…You told me you wish to continue our relationship like before, before this all happened.
…It’s been getting harder and harder to see you at work. I haven’t been able to discuss my worries, concerns, problems at work with you anymore, and vice versa….
Maybe he isn’t completely lying, but it doesn’t alleviate the burning sensation in my chest.
In one swift motion, he crouches down to meet me at eye level, but he remains by the door. Is this it? Is he finally going to grovel? Is he going to plead me to give him another chance? I know I should be hating his guts and throwing his things out of my apartment window, but I want him to beg and declare how much he still wants to be with me. I want to hear it, an over-the-top declaration of love.
“We’re not the same anymore. We haven’t been for a while,” is all he says, and I crumble inside.
“Nothing’s changed, we’re still the same…” my voice croaks, and I fear I will become mute soon. “You’re working for a big-shot company.”
“No, I’m still the same. I’m still in the same job getting paid peanuts, I’m not earning anywhere close to what I wanted at this age,” he says quietly.
Ever since I met him at that University party, Adam was the hot shot who wanted to kill it in finance and make the big bucks, and I had more modest ambitions of working in administration in…well any company who would take me. However, wedding planning stumbled into my life and I realised I wanted more than a job I tolerated. Life suddenly became too short to do something I didn’t love.
A sombre expression is fixed his face as he sits cross-legged on the floor, slouching his back.
“You’re only twenty-five…”
“Don’t fucking patronise me, alright? You’re younger than me and you have accomplished so much more. I…I don’t deserve you,” his head hangs low, ashamed to look at me after his candid admission.
I clear my throat, not quite sure how to respond. “So you’re…angry at me? Angry that I work hard so we can have a good life?”
“You just don’t get it, do you? I am supposed to be the one providing us with a good life and buying you nice things. But instead, you’re raking in more and more with each coming month. How do you think it makes me feel, as a man?” It’s whiny and downright pathetic, but it’s honest. Not that it makes it any easier to digest.
“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t happy sooner? I would have done anything...we could have talked about this,” I say in a low voice.
He scoffs, rolling his eyes to the side. “When do you ever want to talk?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He’s irritating me now with his cynicism.
“You know what I mean. You always brush everything under the carpet, you keep everything bottled up.”
“That’s not true…” I say quietly. “How can you say something like that to me? You should know me better than anybody—”
“Sometimes I don’t even know if you’re human.” Whoa. He’s just broken my heart and now he says that? “I feel like I’m the more emotional one in the relationship—”
“Clearly,” I mutter under my breath.
“Cut the shit alright? Like even now, don’t you want to hit me? Throw something at me? Cry?”
My nostrils flare loudly. “Don’t you dare tell me how to feel right now.”
Adam presses his mouth into a hard line.
“I thought you liked that I wasn’t clingy, that I wasn’t one of those girls who texted you all the time asking how your day was, what you had for lunch,” I finally say, my voice soft.
“Maybe that’s what I want, one of those girls.”
Noise ceases to exist and my heart feels like it’s been run over by a tractor We are sitting three feet from each other, and yet we are worlds apart because we both know what’s going to happen. Ever
since he kissed me next to the fountain at the local mall on our second date, we’ve always had a lot of fun. My feelings for him never wavered, no matter how many arguments we had or the fact that we were seeing less and less of each other. Yes, we argued a lot - mainly about money, where we lived, Adam being frustrated at not being able to afford his dream sports coupé – but I thought we were like any other couple.
And now, all six years we shared is about to disintegrate. All those trips to the supermarket, all those home cooked dinners, all those movie nights, our trips away. Gone.
“We are very different people, and I took it out on you.” He looks defeated, sitting there wallowing in his own pity. “I’m so proud of you and your success. I wish you nothing but the best.”
“I was just there at the right place, right time,” I reason. That basically sums up my career in wedding planning - I always told people I sort of fell into it. Isn't it funny how you realise how much you can love doing something only once you try it?
“So is this it? We’re over, just like that?” I force the words out, but my voice is bleak.
“I can’t get married knowing my wife is more successful than me. I’m…sorry.” Adam never apologises so this is a big deal, even if he should be saying sorry over and over again, a million times for what he’s done to me. “You must hate me.”
He reaches for me, crawling forward to touch my hand but I jerk my arm away. I glare at him, my anaesthetised state all-consuming. “I don’t hate you, I feel sorry for you.”
“Why?”
“You're doing me a favour actually. The man I loved was this confident, driven, yet humble and sincere guy who had so many dreams. But this person in front of me is a ghost of him. He's a loser, and I would never want to be his wife,” the words are like hot coals, spewing out mercilessly.
Adam winces, but I don't care because that felt good. It’s only a fraction of the pain I’m experiencing; the blinding pain that is leaving me dead and hard on the inside.
I push my palms against the floor to pick myself up, but Adam reaches forward to grab my arm, wrapping his other hand around my waist.
“What are you doing?” I’m confused. He just broke up with me ten seconds ago, and now he has his hands all over me? Why is he touching me?
“Get off me,” I hiss, shoving him gently. A laugh comes out, and it’s not from me. His beautiful blue eyes, which once left me hypnotised, are blazing. But not with guilt, or anger or sadness. They are filled with lust.
A wicked grin appears on his full lips, “You are so hot when you get angry.”
“Don’t even think…” I sneer at him, trying to push him away.
But he won’t budge, that look in his eyes says it all. “Do you want to do it one last time?”
You have got to be fucking joking me.
Chapter Four
“You’re not serious, surely?” I scoff at his ridiculous remark. “We haven’t had sex in two months, and you want to do it now?”
To say it out loud is tragic. Maybe I just didn’t notice, or I chose not to notice but our sex life over the years went from the Amazon Rainforest to the Sahara Desert – hot and exotic to dry and welled up. He glances at my face, and looks down at the tight black material hugging my body.
“Whose fault is that? Come on, you look so hot tonight. All I wanted to do tonight after the rehearsal was take you home and unzip you out of this. Obviously, things took an unfortunate turn…”
I put a hand on his chest to stop him coming closer. “You mean you took a stupid turn and got caught cheating the day before we’re supposed to get married.”
He swats my hand away forcefully, a seedy grin on his face. I can smell the alcohol on his breath. “I never said break up. I just don’t want to get married…yet. Come on, your boobs look so hot, let me touch them…” He traces his finger down my décolletage, and I push his hand away, but then he focuses his gaze on me. “That’s what I love about you, your bitchiness.”
“Gee, keep up the compliments, will you?” I turn my face away as he leans in for a kiss, and he lands one on my cheek.
Holding me tighter, he runs his palm over my backside and groans loudly. “God I love your ass…your body is so hot…”
What the hell is wrong with him? Can he really not see how hurt I am right now?
He presses his chest against me, his hot breath sending shivers down my spine. Not in pleasure, but in disgust. This may very well be the last chance I have to sleep with him, but I have absolutely no interest of sharing my body with his.
I keep my hands pushed out like a shield to try and defend myself, moving my head to avoid his. “Is this supposed to be breakup sex?”
Finally, that trademark smirk I have seen a thousand times makes an appearance. “Whatever you want it to be.”
The impact of his lips on mine is sudden and before I know it his tongue violently thrusts inside my mouth. It’s sloppy and wet, and he tastes of beer and garlic. I don’t like it at all and I want him to stop now. I keep my palms pressed to his chest, trying my best to push him away but it only spurs him to act faster. He lowers me onto the cold floor, the coolness of the tiles seeping into my scalp and neck. I’m helpless to stop him. My mind is in complete disarray. He pushes my dress up until my legs and bottom are fully exposed and I can feel the cold surface on my thighs. I would rather eat oysters than continue with this, and that’s saying something. They make me vomit, and this is no different.
I glance to my left out to the window, and I can hear rustling in the bushes that surround the building.
“Stop it, there’s—” I gasp when he leans down below me and grasps each of my ankles, quickly jerking my legs apart. How can he be such an animal? Who is this man that I thought loved me, to treat me like a piece of meat?
I duck from his face but he leans in to kiss me roughly, gripping my upper thighs and I shudder in repulsion as he strokes them, threatening to go higher. Deeper.
Teasing me with his sexy unruly hair, he leans into me to play with the side of my lace black panties. I’m all too aware I’m wearing my favorite red lace bra, which always gets him hot every time he sees me in it, I better stop him before he gets there. I have to act quick, I can’t go any further. I won’t. There have been times I’ve let him get away with things just because he looks at me with puppy eyes – but not anymore.
“STOP!” I utter breathlessly and like a reflex, my right hand makes contact with his cheek, the sound echoing in the room.
He looks at me with smouldering eyes, full of bewilderment. “How dare you slap me?”
He’s an egotistical, selfish, misogynistic bastard who cheated on me with someone who was willing to stroke his rampant ego and kiss the ground he walked on. And now he’s angry at me? Hate is a very strong word, but right now it feels like a very weak way to describe how I feel about him. “Get off me, you fucking prick.”
Pushing him away with all my might, he rolls off me in an instant. Panting, he runs his hand through his hair and looks at me with bewilderment. I stand up and pull my dress down.
“What the hell, Lay?”
“You can’t do that to me. Insult me like that and then expect me to go weak at the knees for you. How dare you!” I yell. What if Gabe heard all of this? Oh no…
He looks at me with puppy eyes. “Fine, I can understand that. So I’ll see you at home, yeah?”
Is he for real? That used to work in the past when he annoyed me, but now it’s just slimy and condescending. Does he really think I want to continue living with him, and carry on our relationship like it was? Fat chance in hell.
“I want your things out of my place within seventy-two hours, you got that? I’m going to stay with Gabe until then, so when I go home I don’t want to see anything that belongs to you; not your video games, not your stupid self-help books on how to make money, not a thing. If any of that is still there, I’ll throw it out.”
I bend down to grab my shoes, and hastily reach for the door to unlock the
gold lock. Adam stands there, frozen at my words. He simply nods and I have one final thing to say to him. With every second I spend looking at his pathetic face, I feel increasingly nauseous. I just need to get out of here.
“Get your shit together. I won’t be with someone who hurts people to make themselves feel better about their own failures. This is the last time you’ll see me. Goodbye, Adam.” I open the door, walking out into the bright and airy corridor. Just like that, I’m closing an old chapter and walking into a new one. It was not one that I never anticipated in a million years, nor was it one that I asked for, but I step out onto the beige carpet a free woman; a newly single woman.
Despite all the conflicting feelings running through my head, there is one that sticks out. I’m relieved. Relieved I can start my life afresh; minus one selfish bastard who I’ve just tossed to the side like the piece of garbage that he is.
Chapter Five
I expect to see Gabe’s shiny blonde mane when I step out. Looking in both directions, I can’t see anyone so I take a turn to the left to head towards the exit. As I walk down the carpet, out from the corner Gabe quickly appears, almost startling me.
“Psssst,” he whispers as he scoops his hand towards me.
My shoes still in my right hand, I make a dash for him and grab his hand with my left, charging down the rest of the corridor to the exit.
“You were in there a lot longer than I expected, is everything—”
Pushing the door open, I pull him forward, in a hurry to keep moving.
“Let’s get outta here now,” I bark at him and he knows I mean business.
Complying with my pushiness, he picks up the pace and we hurry down the stairs in search of the parking lot. A small part of me thinks that Adam might follow me; that he might argue and beg for forgiveness. But I know he won’t. He knows to listen to me and I expect my place to be empty upon my return. In the meantime, I just want to be with Gabe, who is the only person I can be with right now.
We walk across the gardens before I can see Gabe’s compact red hatchback in the distance. Gabe lets my hand go to retrieve his car keys from his tailored, silk black pants and presses the button. It lights up and he opens the door for me. He notices my prolonged silence and looks at me as we stand by the door.
