Distorted Perceptions

by Diana W

  Julian quickly discarded and flushed the filled condom. “In a safe place,” he tapped his side pocket.

  “Umm, kind of need those so I can go back to work. You know... without a draft.” I attempted to fix some of my curls. Thankfully, I wore them wild today so they couldn’t have looked too out of place.

  Julian tucked his polo back into his navy-blue pants, sealing the deal with the re-buckling of his belt.

  “Nah,” he grabbed me by the waist, devouring my lips as I helplessly allowed him to. “Every time you walk and that sting of cold hits, I want you to remember why.” One of his hands crept up my thigh. His thumb strumming the smoothest song between my lips. “I’m seeing you later tonight, right?”

  I bit my lip as my body heated up again. I wanted to say no. Wanted to tell him that five days ago should’ve been it and we couldn’t do this anymore. I couldn’t get wrapped up in a situation with him again, but as one of his fingers slid into me...thy flesh was too damn weak.

  “Yes,” I almost cried.

  “That’s my girl,” he kissed my forehead, removing the torturous digit.

  He went to unlock the stall and I grabbed his arm, “Wait, how do we leave?”

  Julian’s smile reached his eyes. He was obviously amused with my amateur question. “Just be cool. The place wasn’t packed. I paid our bill so we’re just going to walk out like nothing. Give me your hand.”

  A back road in Mississippi nervous, I did what he asked. We interlocked fingers and Julian casually led us out of the women’s restroom like that wasn’t a big ass “Ooo Ya’ll Nasty” red flag plastered on us. However, just as he said, no one even looked our way. I almost wanted to sprint through the exit. I didn’t realize I was holding my breath until I released it when we made it to our cars.

  “I’m picking you up tonight,” Julian stated rather than asked.

  A spell of uneasiness gnawed at me. “No, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  I could tell Julian was a bit taken back. “What’s the problem? You told me your husband moved out, right?”

  Yes, I did tell him that, but something felt wrong having a man come get me from a home that still wasn’t solely mine. Not on paper at least.

  “He did but I just don’t want any confusion.” My eyes floated up to his.

  “With who? Me?” He seemed surprised. “Stop acting like I'm some stranger Cass. We have history. Tarnished history but history nevertheless and like I’ve said before, I know your situation. I thought we were just having fun?” He questioned innocently.

  Fun? Yes, this whole thing with him was that and more. Fresh air to an emotionally smothering situation.

  “I know, I know.” I nodded. “I’m just in my own head so much. It’s cool. I’ll text you the address.”

  “Cool.” He patted his pocket where my still soaked Sultry thong resided. “Enjoy the rest of your workday.”

  “Nasty ass,” I muttered with an unavoidable smirk right into my driver’s seat.

  *****

  “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you moan my name,” Julian’s husky voice hummed into my sweaty neck. We had just gone at it for a second time tonight like our restroom rendezvous hadn’t happened earlier.

  I got all cute for dinner, rocking a new updo style I learned how to do from YouTube. Curls hanging to one side and everything. It was all pointless the second I hit Julian’s peanut butter leather seats. Dinner became whatever room service had to offer.

  “Trust me, it'll eventually get old to you,” I sighed. “Nothing good lasts forever.”

  “That’s just your divorce talking,” Julian casually brushed me off. “When do you plan on following through with it anyway?”

  I was glad that our positioning didn’t allow him to see the scowl I was now wearing. Did he assume it was like cancelling a cable subscription? Go to the judge with my marriage license and say “Hey, I’m not liking the service this one’s been giving me. Can I return it and receive my youth back?”

  “I mean Elliott is just barely out of the house and even getting the paperwork started is a task in itself. We have combined assets and all that jazz." Just thinking about it gave me anxiety. Our married life was going to be analyzed and financially calculated by strangers with no emotional attachment to us whatsoever.

  “But you’re still going through with it, right?” He persisted seeming to ignore everything I just said.

  “Yeah, of course.” What was the point of repeating myself? I know he heard me the first time.

  When his arm wrapped securely around my waist, I took that as he got the answer he was looking for.

  “You never mentioned anything about kids,” Julian started up again forcing me to assume that these questions had been marinating in his thoughts for some time now.

  “That’s because there’s nothing to mention. I don’t have any.”

  “Well I figured that much, but why?”

  “It’s not something I want.”

  Brief silence followed. “You used to. I remember us talking about it.”

  What the hell was his deal tonight?

  “And you used to tell me you would always be there for me.” I sat up and glared over at him. “Obviously shit changes.”

  “Damn, chill. You act like I’m asking you something outrageous.” He sat up too.

  “Having fun doesn’t involve this,” I continued.

  “What? A conversation?” He countered.

  “No, it’s the direction the conversation is going that’s the problem.”

  "Because I’m actually interested in learning about this new Cass? That’s a problem for you?”

  That was exactly the problem. The status of my personal life wasn’t up for discussion. It was none of his business. There were a million other things we could’ve been talking about other than me.

  Annoyed, I stood up from the bed and started collecting my clothes. “I’m ready to go.”

  Julian sighed. “Look, my bad. We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. I don’t want you to leave.”

  Too late for that.

  “Julian,” I huffed. “Just bring me home.”

  It took him a minute, but he eventually removed the comforter from the lower half of his body and stood up, revealing a mouthwatering view that I forced my eyes to pull away from. He approached me, not bothering to shield himself back into his boxer briefs. Purposely I’m sure.

  “Tell me you’re not mad at me,” he held my cheek.

  I kissed my teeth and rolled my eyes away from his handsome face.

  “Cass, c’mon. I’m sorry. I got carried away with the questions. My bad. Fa real.”

  I still wasn’t budging.

  “Stop acting like that before my dick gets back hard.”

  Wait.

  “What?” I broke out in a fit of laughter. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  Julian grinned. “Nothing. I just needed to see that.” He playfully pinched one of my cheeks.

  Ok so maybe I may have been overreacting. He had to understand that I was on guard most of the time now. Completely exhausted by everyone, parents and friends who were aware of my marital situation included. Always asking me how I'm feeling, how I’m doing, what’s next, like I know any of that shit. I just got to the point where I’m not looking for Elliott on the side of me in the mornings.

  “It’s fine,” I held his gaze. “I just have a long day tomorrow and some projections I need to calculate for my client.”

  “So, we’re good?”

  I offered a soft smile. “Yes, we’re good.”

  “Good,” he pecked me on the lips. “Can’t have my girl mad at me.” He turned away and then proceeded with putting on his things.

  His use of the term “my girl” had my mouth itching for the context he meant it in, but I swallowed it back. I planned on addressing him soon to make sure we were still on the same page about what this thing between us was and wasn’t.

  “So, w
hen are you free again?” Julian asked as we pulled up to the front of my house.

  “Not too sure yet but you know I’ll let you know,” I lied, holding onto the car door handle. I didn’t need him upholding me to dates and times. The randomness of this thing we were doing is what made it work.

  “Aight. Don’t work too hard,” he leaned over, and I met him halfway for a quick kiss.

  I started up the walkway, glancing over at the row of hedges under the large living room window. They were neatly trimmed and shaped, informing me that they were taken care of while I was at Sultry. I must have missed them the first time I came home today. It was a reminder that Elliott was still keeping up with that as well as the mortgage and our credit card bill. Even when he wasn’t around, he still was.

  “Who the hell was that?” Elliott’s distinct baritone emerged, scaring the house keys from my grasp.

  Chapter 13

  I scrambled to pick them up from the welcome mat with shot to hell nerves. “Why are you here?” His clothing told me he’d just left work.

  “Answer the question,” he persisted, holding his own set of keys out that I failed to tell him were now useless.

  I glanced to the street, praying that Julian had already pulled off. “That’s none of your business.”

  I didn’t need this type of crap right now. A full day of bomb ass sex shouldn’t be ending like this.

  “Cass, you ok?”

  Please God tell me this isn’t happening.

  Julian was already walking up the driveway, now catching both Elliott and my attention. If looks could kill, Elliott would have had him laid out right next to the potted gardenias he was standing by.

  “She's always ok around me,” Elliott turned completely in Julian’s direction, sizing him up. A lose-lose situation by means of comparison. Julian had him by at least a foot and thirty pounds. “The real question is who the fuck are you to be addressing my wife in front of our house?”

  “Oh, now she’s your wife?” Julian brushed his nose with a tilted head, getting some amusement from the statement. To be honest, I did too. It was complete bullshit for somebody who had done every action to show how non-committed he was to this marriage. I mean he was about to have a whole ass baby!

  “Maybe if you would’ve been acting accordingly, then I wouldn’t have to be around… Professor,” Julian’s taunting forced me wedge myself between the two of them before anything could escalate further.

  I don’t recall divulging Elliott’s occupation to him but under the influence of alcohol and sex, who knows what came out of my mouth.

  I couldn’t tell Elliott, who legally had rights to this house and things he still needed to move out, that he couldn’t come in, so I directed my attention to Julian. “Hey,” I patted his chest. “It’s cool. I’ll call you later.”

  Julian’s eyes were past me. Murder in his eyes. “You sure?”

  “Yes, she’s sure. Now get the fuck off my property, Big Man,” Elliott countered, swiveling my head in his direction. To date, I’d never heard that kind of hostility from him. It wasn’t his style. Let’s just say he was a Dr. King in a world full of Malcolm X’s.

  Julian kissed the side of my head, for spite no doubt, and in a strange manner, quietly walked back to his car, pulling off within seconds. I knew him to be a hot-head back then. Ready to pounce on anyone who even sniffed in my direction, but it would seem age did him some good on that front.

  I finally released the breath I was holding and rushed to unlock the front door. I walked in heading straight to the kitchen while Elliott, hopefully, got whatever he needed to get and left. His footsteps behind me told me otherwise.

  “I’m going to ask you again. Who. Was. That?” He stopped just shy of the kitchen isle.

  I snorted reaching for a wine glass from the cabinet. “You have a nerve questioning me.”

  “Cass,” he said my name like I was trying his patience.

  The fucking audacity.

  I browsed my wine selection, deciding on a Riesling to mellow out.

  “You’re sleeping with him.” It was a statement rather than a question.

  I pulled the bottle from the colorful rack and went for a corkscrew, figuring it was best to ignore him entirely.

  “No man is that comfortable stepping to a woman’s husband unless he was given the authority to do so.” He moved closer to me, tie loosened, noticeably frustrated. “So what, that’s supposed to be your boyfriend? Is that it?”

  I popped the cork open, humming a song I randomly made up in my head. He’ll eventually get tired enough to get the hell out of my face.

  "I’ve been trying to talk to you for months now and this is your response? I’m barely out the damn house and you’re already one foot into something else.”

  “Which is who’s fault?!” I finally snapped. He was the one dragging his damn feet getting his shit moved out. “I told you there was no fixing this. You’re the one with the baby coming! And you’re the one stringing this along!”

  “Seven years?!” He slammed his fist on the counter making me jump. “You don’t think we should try something?! Hell anything?!”

  I stopped pouring into my glass. “You’re the one who decided to step out on me and to add insult to injury, got her pregnant in the process. Now you wanna sit here and be on this hypocritical high horse because the shit doesn’t feel that great when it’s being done to you. Does it?”

  "God Dammit!" Elliott snatched the bottle from my hand and sent it flying in the nearest corner, shattering it into pieces. “How many times do I have to tell you, that is not my baby?!”

  We were engaged in a stare down with his chest heaving and my hands shaking from the shock of his actions. Elliott snapped out of whatever trance had overcome him and wiped his hands down his face. "I'm sorry." His expression softened. "It's just frustrating that you refuse to hear me out." His head shook repeatedly. “It's like you're trying to pay me back. I mean you would rather be with some random man than your husband.”

  “Julian isn’t random and -”

  “Julian?” Elliott’s eyes narrowed. I internally cringed at that colossal slip up. “Julian from college?”

  This conversation wasn’t going to go well...I mean not that it started on a good note. Elliott knew everything about Julian. I cried on his shoulder enough when I finally felt comfortable telling him about my past.

  I took my glass with the little bit of wine I did manage to pour and walked past him towards the living room. Again, he was on my heels.

  “The same Julian I’ve spent our entire relationship picking up the pieces behind? I know it's not that Julian.”

  I turned to face him, taking offense to that. “You decided to be with me of your own free will. Nobody held a gun to your head,” I rolled my eyes back to my original task of kicking off my shoes.

  “You’re absolutely right. Nobody did because loving you was enough for me to want to do that. You uplift somebody you’re in love with. Help them be a better version of themselves. Stay on the phone with them all night because of the insomnia their ex helped create. Constantly tell them how beautiful they were and still are until they start seeing it themselves. But that’s a foreign concept to you. It’s always been.”

  “Excuse me.” I spun on my heels. “What the hell do you think I’ve been doing the entire time we’ve been together?

  “Hell, you tell me.” He stood firm in his stance, catching me off guard with that response. “Before all of this, name a non-selfish thing you’ve done for me in the past month, hell past year if you can recall.”

  Now he was just being an asshole, reaching for air in support of a baseless argument. I stepped into his personal space.

  “Oh, I don’t know. Cook your meals. Make sure our house is in order on top of my own job that I do. Support every move you make.”

  “Enlighten me.” His hands went up in an exaggerated shrug. "When was the last meal?”

  “Well, since you wanna go there, it was suppose
d to be spinach lasagna but oh yeah, you were too busy knocking somebody up that night. My bad for that one.” I tapped my head as if my memory was bad.

  “Even if that was true, it’s not like I could knock you up though, right?” His jaw flexed as did mine. “But that’s beside the point,” he said sarcastically delighted. “Was it spinach lasagna, Cass? The same spinach I don’t eat and have never god damn eaten since you’ve known me. Or the pasta I’ve repeatedly told you I don’t want because I wanted to lose the few pounds I’ve gained in the past two years.” He bypassed me and stood behind the back of the sofa. “On the night of watching shows that I can’t stand but do it because it makes you happy.”

  What? He never told me...

  “That confused look on your face is exactly why we’re here. You want honesty? You want truth? You lost interest in me and anything that’s concerned me for a while now."

  “That’s bullshit!” I found my voice. “Now this entire thing is on me? You wanna play the blame game for your infidelities?”

  “No, I stand in my truth and own my mistake. I regret it all, but you don’t wanna hear it. Don’t wanna accept it.” He circled back towards me. “But listen damn good this time since you’ve already decided we’re done.” He entered my personal space as I fought the urge to slap him, livid that he was trying to make me accountable for his actions.

  “I. Did. Not. Sleep. With. Her but yes, I lied to you. Had hotel meet ups with some woman ten years younger than me. Gambled with the vows of our marriage. All for the sake of conversation and a failed ass attempt at getting head.” His nostrils flared. “I’m not out here trying to play tit for tat like some adolescent by fucking somebody the first chance I got.”

  Before I could stop myself, the wine in my glass was now dripping down his face. I don't know who the hell he thought he was talking to with this typical double standard BS. Now the whole world is ending and I’m a hoe because I’m doing the same thing. I hope he didn’t think that even though he claimed “it” didn’t happen, that all of his deceitful actions were now irrelevant. If anything, it made it worse. All the time, energy, and sacrifices we poured into making this thing between us work and that’s who, or rather what, he throws it away on.