The Hotel

by Melanie Jones Brownrigg

  Though I didn’t feel particularly hungry, I had devoured my meal. The disappearance of my food was mainly to blame on my thoughts being a million miles away from eating. And, as if on autopilot, bite after bite had entered my mouth without a single thought process to what I was doing.

  Nearing the end of the meal, in what I perceived as another diversion, Greg insisted on sharing dessert. “We’ll split an order of fondant au chocolat,” he told the waiter.

  It was when our forks sliced through the soft chocolate and our fingers brushed against each other that I wanted to have a meltdown. I loved his touch. I loved him. I didn’t want us to end.

  “Greg, I love you,” I said as if it would change anything.

  “Emily, honey, I love you too ... so very much.”

  My mind was boggled. Did he love me, but also love someone else? He said he had something serious he needed to tell me. Something he’d been putting off for a long time. It was something he’d kept buried and, in doing so, it was killing him. Had he changed his mind? Maybe he had merely decided not to tell me he had an affair. Our meal was going great. Perhaps he just wanted to move on. Or maybe without my begging and pleading he had decided to stay with me, and we were simply enjoying a meal, no divorce involved. That must be it. We were fine. There was nothing to worry about. The thought put a pleasant smile on my face, realizing I had been in angst for nothing.

  Then the bomb dropped.

  “Honey, since Taylor and I finished up that trial last week and haven’t started anything else yet, last Friday, we decided that now was a good time to get in our continuing legal education. I can’t remember if I mentioned this before. Did I tell you that Taylor and I are scheduled for a three-day seminar in Vegas? Our flight leaves out tomorrow and we won’t be back until late Friday night.”

  A seminar. Though I was briefly happy only a second ago, his comment had taken the sheen off the moment and my heart shriveled up and died. A seminar, with Taylor. And Vegas, of all places.

  “No, you didn’t mention it before.” There was a harsh edge in my tone. “Where are you staying?” I asked trying to maintain some sort of decorum in this fancy restaurant.

  For a moment, I noted a fragment of a pause and wondered if he was about to come clean with his relationship with Taylor, or if he was thinking up an evasive answer, or coming up with a bold-faced lie.

  “At the Lady Luck,” he finally answered.

  The Lady Luck. How appropriate. Well, lucky for Taylor, just not me.

  “The Lady Luck,” I repeated, insinuating every hateful tone possible.

  “Yes,” he continued. “The seminar is being held at the Four Queens, which is within walking distance. Unfortunately, there’s a trade show, as well as a huge convention in town and, with the seminar being at the same time, not to mention tourism, everything in town was already booked to capacity. It was one of the last rooms available in the downtown area on such short notice. So, we’ll have to stay in the same room.”

  The same room. I felt my expression turn into an icy stare and my voice shut down completely. For a dull throbbing moment my brain grounded to a halt. The juicy lamb chops became a souring mixture with my already upset stomach, turning everything into a raging volcano on the verge of erupting. My face screwed into a tight knot, my apparent nonacceptance written all over my face. Sickening thoughts broke free and scattered everywhere, wild and rambling ones of him and Taylor in bed together on their getaway adventure ... just the two of them to live it up in some swanky hotel, rolling the dice and gambling into the late hours of the night, only to retire later to spend time alone in their love nest with their hot sweaty naked bodies meshed firmly together in every sex position known to mankind. I imagined them working themselves into oblivion with all kinds of nasty gyrating movements ... ones like Greg did two nights ago with me ... ones I’d never dreamed of performing until he pushed. He was learning new tricks with another woman. Bastard.

  Unbelievably I managed to keep my frustration in check, even surprising myself when my lips parted and, in a reserved voice, I said, “No, don’t go. You can’t. Think of Ava.”

  His face turned into a question mark. “Ava? What does this have to do with Ava?” For a moment, Greg briefly looked worried. “Emily, please tell me I haven’t forgotten an event. Some end-of-the-year graduation, or something. Taylor and I have already made reservations, paid for airfare and the seminar.”

  “I can’t believe you did all of this without even speaking to me first,” I fiercely whispered, looking around at the other patrons and trying my best to keep my voice from upping to full volume. Though I was working hard to remain calm, my anger was rising. It was a feat to keep from crawling across the tabletop and choking him to death. Maybe I’d just kick him in the balls under the table. How dare he! I couldn’t believe the gall of my husband openly telling me he was spending three days in the same bed with Taylor. Slap me in the face, you damn asshole. Good thing he chose a public setting, otherwise my mouth would be spouting, and he’d be getting an earful.

  His movements slowed as his hand barely stroked the stem of his wineglass. “Emily, it was the only room available unless you get into the seedier hotels. Even this place isn’t my choice of stay. But considering the options, it’s the only safe and practical thing to do.”

  “Take a damn online seminar,” I snarled at him. “There’s no need for a trip anywhere when you can get your hours in over the Internet.”

  “Emily, why in the world are you so upset?”

  We both clamped our mouths shut as the waiter refreshed our water glasses. Greg smiled for his benefit and I politely thanked him. As soon as he was mere steps away, my head twisted, exorcist-style, back to Greg and my steely eyes bored into him. Through gritted teeth, I growled, “You must be the stupidest man alive to think I’d agree with you sharing a room with Taylor.” It seemed unbelievable for him to openly admit he was shacking up with his skank.

  Would it have been better for him to have lied? Led me believe they’d have separate rooms? Face it, it still meant he was having an affair. He had simply chosen to rub my nose in it.

  “I don’t understand. You are way overreacting,” he had the nerve to say. “I’m sorry I forgot to mention it to you. It never occurred to me you’d be so upset over nothing. For crying out loud, Emily, it’s only a seminar. At any rate, the airline and hotel are already booked. So, I’m going.”

  A frosty glare lingered on my face, wondering how he could be so casual about it. He had the audacity to act as if he was doing nothing wrong. My anger was beginning to reach the danger zone and for a long moment I considered getting up and walking out the door. Faced with Greg’s impasse, I held my chin up and admonished myself to resist causing a scene. “Well, I hope you have a good trip,” I finished bitterly and without bothering in the least to sound convincing.

  The remainder of the dinner was a quiet affair and after paying the tab and exiting the restaurant, we walked to our respective cars in complete silence, the only sounds coming from our footsteps mixed with traffic noises in the area.

  Staring at each other for an uncomfortable moment, he blinked and said, “I’ll see you at home.”

  Stomping my feet away from him, I stopped and turned in his direction. He was cemented in place looking at me. I shot him a dirty look, almost considering telling him to go home and pack his bags and leave. My response was another hateful look and then I climbed into my car and slammed the door.

  ◆◆◆

  The drive home was consumed by a feeling of numbness and confusion. The evening hadn't been what I had expected at all. Greg hadn’t revealed having an affair and it being over. There hadn’t been a confession about him falling in love with someone else and wanting a divorce. Instead, he had told me he was sleeping with Taylor Anderson and I should accept it. Had Greg suddenly decided we had an open marriage? I wouldn’t stand for it. I’d be the one filing for a divorce.

  Faced with the possibility of filing for a divorce, Ava
’s tender face popped into my head. Ava was a daddy’s girl. Given the choice, she’d rather live with Greg. In Texas, a child’s voice carried great weight in the courtroom, but generally only after the age of twelve. Ava was only eight right now, soon to be nine. Currently, I could probably prevail at getting primary custody, but how would I feel knowing Ava would rather be with her father?

  My thoughts progressed to weekend visitations, splitting time between holidays, having to attend Ava’s school functions together. Ava meeting Taylor. I didn’t want another woman in my daughter’s life. And I didn’t want Ava having to deal with it.

  The second we arrived at home, Greg wasted no time yanking a suitcase out from the back of the closet and filling it with his clothes and hygiene items. My time was filled with a bottle of wine, which I’d already had two glasses of at the restaurant. I stayed in the kitchen until no noises came from upstairs. Then I went up and slept in Ava’s empty room. Burying my head in her new linens, I breathed in the sweet innocent smell of my daughter and cried myself to sleep. Greg didn’t bother to check on me, which I assumed meant we were over.

  CHAPTER TEN

  (Tuesday - The Day)

  The next morning, still in Ava’s bed, Greg came in to wake me. “Emily, it’s time for you to get ready for work.”

  At first, I couldn’t figure out where I was. Not only was I not in my bed, after updating Ava’s room, I didn’t recognize anything until I focused in on her interesting rock. Then last night came crashing into my head like a brick wall. “Oh, okay. Well, thanks,” I answered in a curt voice.

  “I’ve fixed breakfast. It’s downstairs waiting.” He hesitated, his shadowy figure hovering over the tiny bed. “Emily, for the life of me, I don’t understand why you’re throwing such a fit. You’re overreacting. It makes no rational sense to me at all. Last night, I knew you were too upset to reason with. It’s deeply concerning that we spent the night apart. My bed was extremely lonely without you next to me. I hate that I’m leaving town at a time when you’re angry with me. I was hoping, after a good night’s sleep, you were thinking more clearly and would join me in breakfast.”

  I wasn’t thinking more clearly. My brain, addled by too much wine and restless sleep, remained as fuzzed as last night, probably more so. Unfortunately, today was a workday for me so I needed to get up, no matter how mad I was at Greg. “Okay,” I muttered.

  With blurry vision, I stumbled down the stairs and joined Greg in eating plates of scrambled eggs, bacon and biscuits. My tongue felt swollen, seemingly making the food barely fit into my mouth. We sat in complete silence with a thick negative air between us. After eating a few bites and sufficiently poking at the remainder, I left my plate on the table and went upstairs. I heard Greg cleaning up.

  When I stepped out of the shower, my eyes landed on Greg as he leaned over the basin and ran an electric shaver over his face. Greg was so handsome. And with his magnetic personality, it was no wonder another woman had been drawn to him.

  As we both dressed, my gaze was held on Greg as he fastened his top button and looped his tie into a perfect knot. I’d watched him perform this routine action a thousand times before, but this time everything was different. Everything had changed. He was going away with another woman and he didn’t understand why that would upset me. Greg had ripped my heart open, stomped on it and broken my spirit.

  “Why are you wearing a suit and tie on the plane?” I pointed out.

  “Yesterday’s office meeting was continued to this morning. Then we’re off to the airport. I’ll change into more comfortable clothing before we leave.”

  His gaze was on me. There was a look of pain in his eyes. Mine undoubtedly reflected the same. I loved him. I did. I wanted us to work things out. After taking a deep breath, I begged Greg to stay at home. “Please, don’t go. Can’t you see we’re falling apart? Our family is falling apart. If you can’t do it for me, at least do it for Ava,” I choked out in a desperate plea. I wanted to be stronger, but I couldn’t hide my disappointed expression and I was certain my tortured voice matched.

  “Baby, I can’t,” he replied taking in the hurt expression on my face. “Please, Emily, you’re making way too big of a deal out of nothing. Please don’t be mad.”

  “But I am Greg. This is wrong. What you’re doing is wrong.”

  He was putting on his jacket now and gathering his phone, keys and shades.

  “No, baby, I’m not doing anything wrong. You’re just taking it wrong. Really you are.”

  A lump formed in my throat. “I don’t think so. I can’t believe you’d expect anything otherwise.”

  “We’ll talk about this when I get back. You’ll see. There’s nothing for you to worry about.” He crossed the room and stood next to me. I inhaled deeply, reveling in the intoxicating aroma of his woodsy cologne. The gap between us became smaller and, in doing so, I relished the brush of his shirt against the flesh of my arm. His alluring gaze held mine. From the recesses of my mind, I wondered what was going to happen when he returned. When he came home after his sex-capade with his lover. I didn’t know why it bothered me so. It wasn’t like they had to go out of town to have sex. Then again, until now, he hadn’t thrown it in my face.

  “I love you Emily,” he said, leaning in and trying to kiss me. I turned my head away. “Well, I have to go, or I’ll be late for the meeting.”

  I carried on, looking at him in silence and unsure of what to say. He picked up his bag and left.

  ◆◆◆

  Somehow, even though I was suffering from a hangover and a broken heart, I made it into work, and on time. I wouldn’t describe the day as flying by or even diminishing in a haze. It crept by slower than a sloth. Every second turned into long minutes. Every minute turned into long hours. The day turned into a never-ending battle to maintain composure and professionalism. And by the time it ended, I barely made it to my car where I leaned my head on the steering wheel and bawled my head off. I needed to cry myself out before I went to pick up Ava.

  Once I collected myself, I started on my way to my mother’s house. On the way, my phone rang, the call coming from Lucas, which surprised me. But then again, I had asked Kay to question Lucas about why Greg hadn’t been at racquetball.

  “Hello,” I answered.

  “Emily, it’s me, Lucas. Kay tripped down the stairs. The ambulance is taking her to the hospital right now to make sure the baby is okay. I have Troy with me. Kay’s really freaking out. I’m really freaking out. Is there any way that you can meet us at the hospital to watch Troy while I go in with Kay?”

  “Yes, of course. Which hospital?” He provided me with the information.

  “Just please hurry, please,” he said blowing air into the phone.

  As soon as I disconnected from Lucas, I called my mom and explained the situation.

  “Oh my God,” Mother exclaimed. “Just get over there. If it gets late, just let me know and I’ll be glad to keep Ava overnight.”

  “I’m sorry, Mom. Thank you.” I spent some time talking to Ava to let her know what was going on with Kay. I didn’t mention anything about what was happening between me and Greg. “I love you, honey,” I told her in closing.

  In the hospital parking lot, I checked my splotchy face and added a bit of foundation. A very worried Lucas met me at the entrance door. His hand was clasped to Troy’s. And Troy was crying his little eyes out. “My mommy is hurt,” he wailed.

  “I’m sure she’s going to be fine,” I said in a reassuring voice.

  “This way,” Lucas said. I followed him through a maze of hallways to a waiting room. “They took her straight in for testing. They won’t let me back right now.”

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “She had a damn laundry basket in her hands and started down the steps. She missed her footing and fell to the bottom.”

  “Oh God,” I said in a tone way too concerned before I could reel it back in.

  “I know.” Lucas dropped Troy’s hand and began pacing
the room, running his palm through his black hair every few minutes. There were several other people waiting and one overly loud group in the corner. Troy climbed up in my lap and started crying again.

  “I’ll take him for a walk,” I told Lucas. Troy was picking up on how nervous his dad was, and I needed to distract him. “If you hear anything, call or text.”

  “Okay, thanks.”

  Scooping Troy into my arms, I realized, for a three-year-old, he was quite heavy. “Let’s see what we can find.” I carried him back down to the main level and we browsed through the gift store.

  “Can I get Mommy something?” he asked.

  “Yes, of course. What should we pick out?”

  “This,” he said and snatched up a small teddy bear.

  “She’ll love it. You did good.” He grinned big, happy with my praises. I paid for it at the register and Troy clung to it.

  “Can we get some ice cream too?” Troy asked as soon as he saw the picture on a machine next to the register.

  I wasn’t sure Kay would appreciate me giving Troy a big dose of sugar. But then again, these were extenuating circumstances. “Only if you’ll share,” I bargained.

  Taking a seat on an outside bench, we split an ice cream sandwich and then I cleaned up the evidence from Troy’s cute little face. He looked up at me with his soft baby blues. “Thank you. My mommy never lets me have sugar this late in the day.”

  Oops.

  We alternated between walking the main lobby floors and sitting on hard benches to watch people come and go. It was taking a long, long time and I was really beginning to worry. Troy was getting restless too.

  “I want my mommy.” Ten minutes later, “I want my daddy.”

  Those demands were on a repetitive turntable and each time I told him, “It should be any minute now.” Finally, I couldn’t take it any longer and Troy was becoming a huge handful. “Okay, let’s go back upstairs.”