by Sierra Rose
“He’s not gay, Linda.”
“How do you know?”
I could feel my heart racing as I talked about him. “It was just... I know from the way he looked at me. There was something magical, something almost...glorious.”
My team leader walked by and smiled at Linda. “Is she still going on about that hunky UPS driver?” she asked.
I chuckled. “He’s not a UPS driver.”
“Hands off. You’ve already got a good man,” she said. “I couldn’t meet a decent guy if my life depended on it, so don’t you go hogging up all the good ones.”
My girlfriends always whined that they couldn’t find a good man, and my best advice for them was to be patient and let love blossom naturally. I wasn’t exactly an expert though; I was twenty-three and had been dating Tom since I was fifteen. I was pregnant and married at sixteen. “For love to show up, everything in the universe has to line up perfectly,” I said. “It really does happen at the most unexpected time, maybe when you’re pumping gas or bump into someone at the bank or at a party. It’s then that you’ll meet someone who will change and rock your entire world.”
“Or when someone delivers a box to you, huh?” Linda chided.
I sat down and tried to catch up on my work, but my mind kept drifting back to my problems, my dilemma of whether or not to leave my husband. The one thing I did know was that I needed to quit looking backward. As painful as it was to accept, I had to deal with the fact that our relationship was over. I had to stop postponing the inevitable. I knew it was time to end things with Tom, and my heart broke just thinking about it. I didn’t like the road we were traveling down, and I needed to find an off-ramp as soon as possible, for my own good as well as his.
***
After work, I hurried into the large classroom and took a seat. Since I hadn’t decided on a major, I was getting my basics and electives out of the way, and I adored being in Tom’s Algebra 101 class. He was the youngest professor on campus, and it was only his first year teaching, so he wanted to make a good impression. Every time I saw him on campus, though, he seemed to be surrounded by an entourage of scantily clad nineteen-year-olds. It really made me wonder if he was having a fling. I knew guys couldn’t go without sex for too long, so I had to wonder who he was getting it from. I wondered if it was one of my classmates and if the giggling, jiggling coeds even knew he was married and that his wife was taking the class with them. I knew he was tutoring a girl named Adrian, and he certainly seemed to spend a lot of time helping her figure out equations. I was worried that he might be my future ex, and she might be the why.
“I’d, like, totally bang that professor,” said a girl sitting next to me.
I turned my head to look at her and couldn’t help noticing that she was wearing more paint than the average mural. “Good luck with that one.”
The girl laughed, entirely unaware of my hidden meaning.
After class, I saw a brunette stroking his arm. It wasn’t the first time I’d seen his students trying to earn a little extra credit, and it infuriated me. I marched down the stairs of to confront him. “Hi, hon’. Is this Adrian?” I asked, tapping his shoulder. “The girl you’ve been...tutoring?” I said, none too please that my tone was dripping with pathetic jealousy.
She rolled her eyes at me. “I’m Kim.”
“Um... I’m Adrian,” said someone from behind me.
I turned and cast my gaze on a guy, in his young twenties.
“The professor’s been helping me a lot.”
“Oh,” I said, utterly embarrassed. My cheeks turned red, and I hurried out of the classroom. I dropped a pencil on the way out but didn’t even bother to stop to pick it up.
A few minutes later, Tom called me on my cell phone. “What the hell was that?”
“I-I don’t know. I’m sorry. I just—”
“Morgan, I can’t have my wife jumping every coed in my class.”
“Well, I can’t have you jumping on any coeds either!” I fumed.
“You have to stop acting like a jealous maniac.”
“I didn’t jump anyone. I asked very calmly.”
“I’ve gotta go,” he said, then hung up on me.
Chapter 6
My best friend, Juliet, and I took the kids to the park. It was nice to see them so carefree, having an absolute blast.
“Love your haircut,” I said.
“Thanks. Sophie’s so good at makeovers. She did my makeup, too, really made my brown eyes pop.”
Sophie had cut Juliet’s hair, and now her formerly long, black mane hung just a few inches past her shoulder. It was the cutest cut and looked so stylish, a perfect fit for her.
She gripped my arm. “Oh, and I got some more ink too.”
“Another tattoo? You didn’t.”
“Sure did.”
“Where?”
She lifted her shirt a little, revealing her left side. “It’s a cherry blossom tree, but don’t worry. It’s my last one.”
“That’s nice, but I really love the tattoo on your back,” I said, recalling where the word “dream” was scrolled across her flesh in red.
“Yeah, it’s pretty cool too.”
As the kids played, we talked about everything and caught each other up on all the juiciest, latest gossip. I told her about my huge blunder with Adrian, and that only led us into the tedious topic of my messed-up marriage.
“I had no idea when he slipped his finger into that ring that he’d eventually stop sliding things anywhere. I didn’t expect to end up celibate,” I said.
“Hmm. I never woulda thought so either. Maybe you should get him one of those little blue pills. He has a lot of making up to do, so one of those four-hour erections might serve you well,” she said with a coy smile and a wink, whispering so the kids wouldn’t hear.
I crossed my arms and shook my head. “I wish it were that simple. Tom claims impotents or E.D. is not his problem.” So many thoughts plagued my mind as I spoke to my friend. Should I get out? Am I afraid of divorce? What’s keeping me with him? Am I some sort of loser, a failure? Can I handle being a single mom? Can I really do it, financially and otherwise, raise my beautiful twins on my own? Would that even be fair to them? “I guess it’s like my mom always says,” I said, sighing. “I’ve just gotta grin and bear it, even if I’m painfully lonely for the rest of my life.”
“You don’t have to give up so easily, Morgan. I’m sure there’s somebody out there for you, someone who can touch your life in a way nobody else can,” Juliet said. “It’s just not Tom.”
“I don’t wanna get a divorce. My family would kill me. The way they see it—well, all of them except for my sister—I made my bed, and now I have to lie in it. I gotta say, though, I have been very tempted by this hot guy who comes into the office.”
“The one with the pretty blue eyes? That delivery guy?”
“Yeah, but I need to get my mind off him. I’d never have an affair, no matter how lonely I am. That’s just not me. I’ll be miserable until the day I die, and it’s Tom’s fault. He says he loves me, says he cares and doesn’t want to see me hurting, but it’s all a lie to keep me around.”
“You can’t blame all of this on Tom,” Juliet said.
“Why not?”
“Well, not to play devil’s advocate or anything, but some of it has to be your fault too.”
I cocked a brow. “Excuse me?”
“Maybe he won’t sleep with you, but you’re letting him get away with treating you that way, because you won’t leave. It’s admirable that you’d never cheat on him, but that means you’ll only have a chance at love again—the real love you deserve—if you walk out. You can’t enjoy the roses of today if you keep sniffing yesterday’s garbage.”
“So it’s my fault?”
“Staying and putting up with it is as much a problem as Tom refusing to bed you.”
I sighed again; Juliet had never been one to mince words. “I get that...I guess.”
“Never give up
on your dream of being happy, Morg. You’re always telling me not to pursue Kyle because he’s my best friend, but I’ll never give up on him, because I love the guy with all my heart. I can’t just let go, and I know he’ll see it one day, that he’ll feel it too. You can dream all you want, but you’ll never have true happiness till you actually reach out for them. Mine is getting Kyle, and yours? Your dream is to find true love with your real soulmate. We both know Tom isn’t him, even if you did marry him.”
Ignoring her words, which I knew were the truth but were much too painful to swallow, I said, “I just don’t know what’s wrong. Maybe we’re both just too stressed out with the dailies, ya know? Kids, bills, household tasks, our jobs...”
“Morgan, can’t you see that this goes way deeper?”
“I know. I guess I just hate to admit it.”
***
Over the following weeks, I really contemplated everyone’s advice. I tossed all their ideas back and forth over the course of many sleepless, lonely nights, but ultimately, in the end, I knew what had to be done.
I woke up after yet another nightmarish, uneasy rest and walked into the bathroom, where Tom was shaving and getting ready for work; his morning bathroom routine sometimes took forty-five minutes, as he was quite the diva for being a guy and a college professor. I have no idea what came over me, but as I watched him drag the razor down the left side of his jawbone, the words just tumbled out. “I need to talk to you, Tom,” I said.
“What is it?” he asked, keeping his eyes firmly planted on the mirror. “Look, if it’s about what I said about the house being a mess, I’m sorry I yelled. I just—”
“There were only a few dishes in the sink, Tom,” I said, cutting him off.
He continued looking in the mirror, scrunching his face up to talk to me while he shaved. “You know I’ve always been a bit of a...perfectionist, that I’m a little OCD about things being clean and tidy. I’m sorry if you don’t like it, but you really need to run that vacuum cleaner every day.”
“Yes, Drill Sergeant!” I wanted to say, but I didn’t dare add fuel to the fire. Instead, I inched closer and said, in almost a whisper, “That’s not why I’m here.”
He rinsed off his razor and tapped it three times on the side of the sink, still not bothering to look at me. “Then what is it?”
“I need to move forward with my life, Tom,” I said. “I think it would be good if we spent some time apart.”
Finally, he turned to look at me, utterly stunned. “What are you saying, Morgan? How much time apart?”
“You’ll always have a special place in my heart. You’re the father of my children and you mean a lot to me, but enough is enough. I think some space would help clear things up for us.”
He wiped his face with a towel, then looked back into the mirror. “Our relationship is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
“Yet you can’t even face me when you say that! If you mean it at all, maybe you could kiss me, put a little emotion in it. Hell, I’ll give you a six for effort though.”
He chuckled. “What’s gotten into you today, Morgan?”
“It’s not just today, Tom. I can’t stay in a loveless relationship. For years, I’ve tried to make this work, but I just can’t. It’s just killing me, eating me alive. It’s also not fair for you to be stuck in a relationship that’s a lie.”
Again, he turned to face me. “It’s not loveless. We do love each other. I tell you so every day.”
“That’s just it. You only tell me so. You never show me. Once upon a time you did, back when our fairytale began, but—”
“But now what? Now that doesn’t mean anything anymore? We were high school sweethearts, Morgan. We got married and bought a house together. I watched both our babies come into the world, and we’ve shared things that can’t even be explained. Those bonding moments should keep us together forever.”
“Forever as what? As friends? Roommates? It’s not good enough. Do you know what kept me up last night?”
“What?”
“Cats. Those damn, screeching, horny alley cats were at it all night, like they were rubbing it in that stray animals see more action, more passion than I do.”
“That’s funny,” he said with a laugh I wanted to smack off his face. “I’ve always loved your sense of humor.”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t a joke, Tom. There’s nothing funny about this. I’m dead serious. I hope you can move on and meet someone who will love you the way you deserve to be loved, someone you can really love in return. I’ve already packed my bags. I’m moving in with my sister. She only lives a street over, so it will be easy enough for us to keep in touch. You asked if the past means anything to me, and it does. I’ll always remember our time together as something special, because we really did have some great times. Now, though, you’ve made it obvious that you don’t want to have times like that with me again, and I-I have to let you go so we can both move forward with our lives.”
“I’ve got a big meeting,” he said, oblivious to the reality of my plans. “We’ll talk about this when I get home from work.”
“The kids and I won’t be here.”
His brows rose in anger. “Uprooting them is a lousy idea, Morgan. This is their home, the one they’ve always known. You can’t just—”
“Okay. Then you leave, and I won’t have uproot them.”
His face reddened. “I’m not going anywhere. I pay the mortgage here, and you can’t just evict me because you’re in one of your...moods. If you want out so bad, fine, but why can’t you just leave the girls here with me? Then, when you get over your damn PMS or your drama or whatever this is—”
“Not a chance,” I hissed, cutting him off. “Wherever I go, the girls are coming with me.”
He looked down at his designer watch. “My goodness, Morgan, I can’t believe you’re upsetting me like this right before I go to work. Can we please talk about this later, after you’ve calmed down and come to your senses?”
“Sure. I’m still going over to Alexis’s after work, but I can come back over later tonight, and we can discuss this some more.”
He shot me an irritated look. “See you then.”
I was actually surprised; Tom took the news a whole lot better than I had thought he would. Sure, he was a little ticked off, but there was no major screaming match or fight. In all honesty, it felt as if he almost didn’t give a damn. Or maybe he doesn’t take it seriously. Maybe he thinks I really am just in a mood or something. That hurt more than anything. If the love of my life had told me he was going to walk out the door, I would have been damn sure to stop it, even if it meant calling off work. I would have given it my all and fought like a warrior, but Tom just walked away, like it was just an ordinary day in his life. That, in and of itself, said more about his feelings than the few nonchalant words he’d spewed at me through the shaving cream.
After that difficult conversation, my busy morning went on as usual. I jumped in the shower, brushed my teeth, got dressed, and fixed breakfast. The kids and I ate alone at the dining room table while my husband tapped away on his laptop in the living room, checking his gradebooks or his stocks or whatever it was he was always staring at. He certainly didn’t seem worried or distraught by the fact that it might be the last morning he would spend with his wife and daughters. He just ignored me like he did every other morning.
I looked at the clock and realized we were late.
“Oh no. Tom, we are officially late for work!” I yelled into the next room as I grabbed the bowls off the table and tossed them into the sink. “We’ve gotta go...now!”
“Shit!”‘
“Hey! Not in front of the kids,” I said. Yes, my husband was the college professor, but sometimes he was also the one who needed to be lectured.
Rushing into the kitchen, he shot the kids an apologetic glance. “Sorry.” He then looked at me. “I’ll see you later. I’ve got an exam to give this morning, and now I’m late. This has been one
helluva morning already.”
“Dad!” Anna said. “Mom said not to swear.”
“Hell’s not a swear, honey. It’s a place,” he said, staring at me briefly before he bolted off.
Chapter 7
I rushed the kids to school, drove to work, and parked. Just as I walked inside, I bumped into somebody. “I’m so sorry,” I said, without even looking up. When I finally pulled my eyes up from the concrete, I found myself staring into those mesmerizing blue eyes I would have recognized from a mile away. Again, I’d made a klutz out of myself in front of the hunky mailman.
“Are you kidding me? Bumping into a pretty girl is the highlight of my day,” he said. “Sorry I missed you.”
I raised a brow. “Missed me?”
“You usually sign for the packages.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m running late. I guess I’m just in too much of a hurry, and...” My voice trailed off, and I found myself at a loss for words.
“Well, I hope the rest of your day gets better.”
“It already has,” I said, grinning.
He smiled wide, those gleaming white teeth making me wonder why he was carrying mail instead of modeling; Marky Mark’s Calvin Klein ad had nothing on the delivery guy. Personally, I would have rather seen the mailman’s funky bunch.
“Well, I guess I’ll catch you later,” I said.
“Hey, speaking of that, would you, uh... Well, I’ve got these tickets for, um...”
I smiled, flattered by his sudden bout of schoolboy-like shyness. I couldn’t believe he had any trouble trying to pick up women. I was sure they were lining up by the dozens, falling at his feet. “Are you asking me out?” I finished, stunned.
His blue eyes twinkled in the bright sunshine, and the wind tossed his black hair around. “Yes, Wednesday. It’s for seven p.m. at the comedy club. I’m a little rusty at this, in case you didn’t notice.”
“No, I—”
“Okay. Well, maybe another time then,” he said, turning to leave, little beads of nervous sweat forming on his forehead.
