“I know you think that love is the way you make it.
So, I don’t wanna be there when you decide to break it.”
~ “Love Bites” Def Leppard
2:47 p.m.
“R u mad at me?”
I sat stunned into silence for minutes, unable to move—my stomach wanting to jump out from inside of my body. Her text marked the first time I truly doubted her as my consciousness, my past, my intuition, my mind, and my low self-esteem huddled up like a pack of wolves with voracious appetites to sink their teeth into all I ever believed in, all I ever trusted in, my very heart and soul, to gnash the passion particle into pieces.
“You fool, you’ve really done it this time.” My head roared.” You would’ve thought after Denise you had learned your lesson. Now you intend to still fight for her after she asked you to? If you do, you’re going to break the hearts of their children and be crowned the king of all homewreckers. You should have known you never stood a chance the minute she showed you a picture of her four year old daughter riding a horse. Those kids have things you could never give them. Why would they ever agree, understand or even accept you? Even Anya’s friends know you can’t provide anything to them they don’t already have. For her to be with you would be a monster downgrade socially and economically. Anya, the person who loves you, who believes in your silly little dream that love exists, lied to you. She doesn’t believe in your kind of love at all, and it’s obvious the less you know and the less you ask, the better off you both will be. Didn’t you realize this? Couldn’t you see this coming? She wasn’t still with her husband because she feared no one would want to be with her because she had “baggage”. Lance, the romantic singer didn’t leave her because she had kids. She’s there because she’s well off and so are her kids! You should have known this! Not only would you be shaking up their environment, you would be ruining their lives! Anya feels her sacrifice is a solo one, and you won’t be affected nor should you be affected. She thinks you should be able to shut off your feelings of love for her just like she did with her husband, and if you don’t, you’re not normal, you’re sick. She believes you should have seen this coming. She allowed you to know her kids because she wants you to feel bad for wanting to be with her and responsible for destroying their lives if you are together. She is as dishonest as her husband. She’s not out to destroy him, or her family, and she will not love you forever but ruin you forever. For her to tell you this now, almost a year later is as disrespectful and selfish as it gets because she should have told you this in the beginning when you first met, not after you poured your heart and soul into her. Her husband isn’t going to leave her and she knew that before she got involved with you. This is a safe bet for her because she stands to lose nothing she hasn’t already lost, while you lose all you ever believed in, all you ever hoped for and all you ever dreamt of. The only person who loses here is you. You need to cut your losses now. You are unloved anyway. The passion particle must die.”
My unconscious, the innate, my hope, my heart, the passion particle met a brutal assault on a massive scale from all conceivable perspectives. I was deeply affected by her words, and yes I was upset, but mainly hurt by this revelation. I could not understand how she could tell me this now after all we shared, especially after Laguna Beach. As I sought some kind of chemical balance, I began to think about all the things she had ever said to or shared with me. In search of a different angle I took a deep breath and read her text again.
“This is what her friends would advise. It doesn’t mean she would take it.” My heart reasoned. “ You’re taking this way too personal because of your past. You’re already in defense mode when you should be empathetic. You obviously don’t want to hurt her children, and they are paramount here, but there is something her friends still don’t know. They have no idea about your partner promotion and that you‘d be able to take care of them so Anya’s children could keep the things they already have, including the stability of where they live. Anya is in love with you and you need to trust that. She is not Denise, and she needs your compassion and understanding as much as you need hers. This is just another test and that’s all it is. It’s a test to see how you would react. Yes, it was hard to read, but you should know how much you mean to her. She shows you every day, Laguna Beach proved it, and again these are the views of her friends, and not necessarily Anya’s views. She even abandoned her friends at Laguna Beach to be with you so what makes you believe she would be on board with them here? They don’t know her pain and her struggles, but you do. This text is not what it seems. The unknown is a scary place for anyone and you have to be sensitive to Anya’s feelings on that, but if you believe in yourself, if you believe in your love for her and you believe in the value you’ve already added to her life, this will prove to be nothing. Things that are worth having in life are never easy so why would this be different? If you react to this negatively she will grasp onto it and probably never let it go. It’s okay to store in the memory banks and to play it a little close to the vest, but don’t let it destroy all you’ve already built and shared with her. This text would bother any man who was truly in love with her, but a special man would just let it roll off his shoulders. Believe in her love. Pass this test. She needs your understanding more than ever.”
Twenty minutes later, I finally broke down and responded to her text before I started my now much longer drive home from Hesperia as I was bound to hit some heavy traffic which furthered added to my misery.
ME: “I’m sorry for the delayed response. Just wrapped up the rock quarry observation and am now heading back home. What r u up too?”
ANYA: “Working. Are u done for the day?”
ME: “Yes.”
ANYA: “I c.”
I didn’t hear from her for almost two hours after her last response. During the long drive home, I revisited her text again as I found it hard to understand how her friends, even after all they knew about how Anya felt about me, would still advise her to stay with a cheater. It left me to wonder if they knew something I didn’t because something just seemed so out of place. Did I have it all wrong? Was Anya not allowed to be happy in life? Was it the role of all mothers, even in instances of gross infidelity, to stay married for the sake of the kids?
When I got home I texted her to see how she was doing.
ME: “Are you still working?”
ANYA: “No. I’m done for the day. Can u break for tea? I want to talk to u.”
ME: “I can break for tea. Where do u want to meet?”
ANYA: “Would u be willing to drive to the Good Morning Café and meet me there in thirty minutes? I have to leave by six.”
ME: “I’ll see you in a half hour.”
ANYA: “K. C u in a bit.”
I sensed she was either aware she may have text the wrong thing to me or upset with me for my late response. The last time I sent her a delayed reply she learned I was bothered by the façade of her marriage. The fact she wanted to talk to air things out was one of the things I loved about her because in any successful relationship, people deserved a chance to understand one another. Anya realized we needed to talk in a face to face setting, and not through the often misinterpreted communication lines of a text message. Mutual honest communication was the key to any good relationship and imperative for us to have in this situation. I had always disliked talking on the phone, but because of the situation, the phone was our main outlet, and mostly our only outlet to communicate, and it increased the risk of our feelings at times to become easily lost in translation. I knew whenever I was silent however, I was like a Dr. Seuss book to her. I truly didn’t know how to respond to this text from her, and I didn’t want to respond on raw emotion, so I sat on it and let her words percolate before I text her back so I could look at them in both a dark and sunny sky.
I had made a habit in the past of taking things too personally and I refused to do that with Anya. I felt secure in her love for me, but I was a little unnerved by her text. The fact she said “as mothers we” made it hard to believe she wouldn’t agree with them, and she should even feel obligated to stay for the sake of the kids because all good mothers would do so. Basically, if she were to choose a real love over a fake one, she would be a bad mother for doing so. I believed there were a few things wrong with this sacrifice of her happiness, though. The first problem was, her discontent was not the general unhappiness mostly all people in marriages go through. I felt her discontent was wholly justified because her husband promised to God and to her family, that he would “honor and cherish” her until death do they part, the very essence of a marriage, yet he failed miserably to do so from the very onset. The second problem was she lived a dishonest life, one that existed under a cloud of deception. Not to mention, there was also a guy in her life before she met me so our love could not be a mistake. I felt this was something she needed to pay attention to, and if she didn’t make a change this time around, I believed she would always live a lie and seek happiness through the company of other men. The third issue I had was her sacrifice of happiness was no longer a lone sacrifice, because now after all she allowed me to share, all she allowed me to know, all she allowed me to feel, that my happiness would be forfeited as well. When mothers decide to make sacrifices for their children, they don’t allow others to be in their lives. Anya needed to realize her situation was not the same as Carolyn and Debbie, who had remained faithful. I preferred her to hurt me than her children, but there were things she told me that brought me here, to this point, and I felt if she stayed, she would give her children a false impression of what a marriage should really be. I felt she would basically be setting them up for unhappy marriages as well, even in instances of gross infidelity, and lead them to believe their marriage is normal because all marriages were unrealistic anyway. I further felt the sacrifice for the kids should have happened at the very latest, after she met the romantic singer, and not now. If I communicated these feelings though, it could upset her, and I feared that because I didn’t want her to take it home to her kids, but I also realized I had to be honest with her if there was an issue.
At the same time, I also couldn’t give her anything to grasp. I had to look at her text in a way that she wanted me to fight for her and to change her thinking. To show her love and understanding, things her husband never did. I had to build a solid case for her to not sacrifice her happiness without letting my hurt get in the way. It was paramount, and I couldn’t believe she’d bring me this close if she truly thought she should stay, and I believed that wholeheartedly regardless of the sacrifice mothers made. It was my job to save her, to be her hero and to not be the broken hearted fool from my past.
We agreed to meet in the parking lot behind the Good Morning Café’s small strip mall as it was a weekday evening and a lot of people could be out. I arrived about ten minutes early so I decided to take a chance and run in to grab her an unsweetened Passion Fruit Iced Tea. Two minutes later after I returned back to my car with our drinks in hand, she parked her car right next to mine. She smiled and waved when she saw me which settled the butterflies back into the net which was my stomach. She then jumped out of her car and I reached across my center console to open the door for her. When she sat down inside my car, a feeling reminiscent of the happiness in Laguna Beach consumed me, and I momentarily forgot what we were even here to talk about. Since there were quite a few people out, I asked her if she wanted me to drive around to find some place that would give us some privacy and she agreed. As my car meandered through the placid residential neighborhood, I quickly and luckily found a spot in a cul-de-sac near a small children’s park replete with apparatuses and an abundance of sand. With no one to be seen, I pulled over to the side of the road near a long tall brick wall. When I brought my car to a rest, and turned off my engine, I gazed upwards into the gray clouds above us that began to further darken and merge to obscure the stars from our view. I then turned to Anya and was struck by her beauty. She wore a thin long sleeved light yellow top as her pristine black hair flowed just past her shoulders. As I tried to bring myself back to the reason we were here, I began to initiate the conversation.
“I’m really sorry. Your text took me by surprise, and I didn’t know how to respond to it.” I said as she gazed back at me with concern in her eyes. “I guess I don’t understand why they wouldn’t advise you to leave knowing all they know even if they knew he cheated on you several times.”
“Just between us babe.” she said softly. “They’ve been cheated on by their husbands too.”
“I feared maybe they had. That’s a shame.” I responded. “Do they know for sure?”
“Debbie suspects but doesn’t have concrete evidence. In Carolyn’s case, definitely.” she revealed. “Babe, if you could, please keep this conversation confidential.”
“Of course. Absolutely.” I said. “How do they feel about their husbands though?”
“They are madly in love with their husbands.”
“They are? Really?”
“Yes.”
“I understand now why they would choose to stay; they have a reason to.” I said. “That’s why I was a little thrown off. Their unhappiness isn’t the same as yours. It’s not even close.”
“I think they would just “advise” me to stay.”
“Even if they knew he had cheated on you and you were in love with another man?”
“They both support me, they adore you, and they know I’m not in love with my husband.” She stated. “but they don’t support our relationship, and they think I should work things out with my husband.”
“Wait a second.” I said in disbelief. “Even knowing I’m in your life?”
“Yes.”
That didn’t make much sense to me. How could they feel that way knowing how much Anya cared about me and if they knew her husband had blatantly betrayed her several times? What was I missing? Carolyn was the one who met up with Anya when she and I met at the Pacific Grill last June. Why would she agree to do such a thing if she would just advise Anya to work on things with her husband regardless? Another thing that didn’t register about this was how come both Carolyn and Debbie had shared the infidelities of their respective husbands with Anya yet she did not reciprocate? I thought this was common ground that brought them together. What was Anya protecting by not sharing her story as well?
“Please forgive me, but I’m a little confused.” I said.
“What is it?”
“If they shared with you the information that their husbands had been unfaithful to them, how come you never shared anything with them about your husband’s infidelities?”
“Well quite frankly, I don’t think it’s any of their business.” she said. “And it wouldn’t matter anyway so why paint a bad picture of someone?”
I was flat out stunned by her response. She didn’t want to paint a bad picture of him to them? Then why did she paint a horrid picture of him to me? Her answer just seemed neither consistent nor rational considering all she had told me about him, and I didn’t know how to react because it caught me so off balance. Since I feared she would grasp at this, I decided best not to react at all.
“Okay.” I relented, nodding my head.
I wanted to look away from her, but I didn’t want her to sense my distrust about the rationale of her decision not to tell her close friends about his infidelities. I looked into her eyes and they never wavered as they appeared to beg for understanding from me, and not disappointment. I then began to rationalize that Anya had possibly not been honest with them about the depth of our relationship. I asked her if she told them she was in love with me and she told me she did, but since Anya had been untruthful by omission with them about her husband’s trysts, I then began to believe Anya likely also omitted the seriousness of our relationship with them as well. I further suspected she probably led them to believe I had gone into this knowing it would not work out and that was why they pushed her towards her husband. I then began to worry they believed that all men were basically as heartless, inconsiderate, selfish, and unable of showing empathy like their husbands, and that my heart and my belief in love was nothing more than a sideshow; that I was not invested in our love even though my heart was greatly vested. If that’s what they believed, then it would be something I had to learn to deal with, but I guess I always thought she told them that I was into our relationship deeply, and they adored me because they disliked the way Anya’s husband treated her.
I now found myself in a rather tough spot, like an astronaut floating freely in outer space with nowhere to go as a force with the power of gravity removed me from the world I knew and thrusted me into one that solely depended on her, my spacesuit, for survival. As much as she would rather die than never have me in her life, the feeling was absolutely mutual, and here I was almost six months later, and I learned things I shouldn’t have had to at this point, like additional weight being bound to my body as I sank into a freezing sea. At the same time, with the knowledge I couldn’t return back to the same place I was before, I had to find a way to survive where I now found myself. I had to find a way to grasp anything positive I could without questions and accept these terms, like being bound to the small fine print I missed in a contract I had already signed as without this pact, my life was over after all we shared. It was clear I had to bet my life on “I love you forever” and her grace to survive. Furthermore, I had to truly believe and trust in it as my heart was now at her mercy as not only my happiness but also my life now depended on hers.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
This inconsistency brought this much to light for me; there was something drastically missing here. I knew I had to allow time to learn exactly what it was, but the question was now, did I really want to know and if so, did I really need to know? This all seemed just a bit out of place. As high as the divorce rates were in this country could it possibly be true that they were actually lower than they should be?
“Do we have an issue?” she asked. “Are we okay?”
“We’re okay.” I confirmed. “I just needed some clarification.”
“Are you sure?”
“Well, I understand Carolyn and Debbie are happy in their marriages, are madly in love with their husbands and staying for the sake of the kids” I reasoned. “but I know you aren’t happy, you’re not in love with your husband, yet also staying for the kids. I’m not sure I understand that as much.”
“You could never understand what it’s like to be a mother.” she sighed.
“Beautiful, you’re absolutely right. I could never understand what it’s like to be a mother. I could never carry a baby in my stomach for nine months, so I could never relate to what you feel for your children nor could I ever truly understand the bond between a mother and her child.” I broke, shaking my head. “The main reason I decided to pursue a relationship with you was because I respect the fact you are a mother, and I felt for a man, your husband, to cheat on the mother of his own children while she was pregnant nonetheless was brutally unfair, and I wanted to give you a love you could truly trust. Even though your kids aren’t mine, as much as I wish they were, I felt as a mother you deserve that and from what I’ve grown to learn since I’ve met you is how great of a mother you really are. How you always think of your kids before you think of yourself, and I love that about you; you’re clearly a fantastic mom. The only part I can truly understand is that you’re also a parent. I believe as a parent, you also must give your kids a fair representation of what life truly is because the one constant, and the greatest irony about life is that it will always change in some way. It will never stay the same. Even though I adore them too, the truth is Carolyn and Debbie have no idea what it’s like to carry your unhappiness around day in and day out so please forgive me if I feel they are a little bit unqualified in offering that kind of advice to you without taking the same journey. Anya, I love you and I love you too much to allow you to just follow the crowd knowing all I know about your pain, your struggle and your sacrifices. Babe, they are madly in love with their husbands, but you…you are madly in love with me. That’s why I feel this way, and that’s why I had a hard time understanding your text. I don’t think you realize your own pain because you’ve been trying to shut it off for years, but there was a reason you were compelled to approach me almost a year ago; it was because you couldn’t help it and that’s something I feel they need to also consider. And yes, I will never understand what it’s like to be a mother, and I would never stop you from being the wonderful one you already are, but as the man who loves you more than life itself, I’m going to nudge you towards being a great parent too.”
After I spoke these very words, with dampened eyes she leaned across my car’s center console and came into my arms. We then began to kiss and as our sudden show of affection intensified, I could not only feel how much my words meant to her but also how much I did too. Five minutes later she then pulled away and began to laugh.
“You know Carolyn calls me “native” all the time.” she revealed.
“How come?” I asked.
“Because I love coconuts!” she exclaimed. ““I buy raw baby coconuts and drink them all the time! I have to crack them open like a “native”! She makes fun of me!”
“I must admit it’s pretty funny to visualize you siting there on the floor Indian style with a coconut in between your legs trying to crack it open on the ground.” I laughed.
“Oh stop! It’s nothing like that!” she laughed. “If you only knew some of the weird fruits I consume! I love durians, cherimoyas, and sapotes! More reasons to call me a “native”!”
“Um…I have no idea what a sapote is, let alone a cherimoya or a durian.” I admitted. “I’ve only been exposed to bananas, apples and oranges in my life so far.”
“Well, I’ll have to introduce them to you then, babe.” she said. “I’m sorry about the text earlier. Are we ok?”
“Of course, Sweetheart.” I told her. “We’re ok.”
“I love you.” she said as she leaned in to kiss me again. “Forever.”
“I love you too, forever.”
After our conversation went from a serious exercise to being in each other’s arms, I felt a little bit better about where we stood on things. Before she left, she even made plans to come visit me at my place on Saturday evening. This was the Anya I knew and loved, the one who was empathetic, the one who listened, and at least tried to see my side of the issue. She didn’t have to agree with me, and she had every right to be a mother. She was entitled to feel the way she did. I just wanted her to be cognizant that there’s a reason I was in her life; that she allowed me to be here, even encouraged me to, and I was in this to be with her because she simply mattered too; that’s why I gave us a chance. I sent her a text a half hour later to make sure she made it home okay, and I apologized to her for having to talk things over with me about the text.
6:40 p.m.
“Just don’t give me a reason to call an emergency meeting! Sorry again! U were so yummy! I wanted to take my shirt off!”
ME: “I think we need to have emergency meetings more often!”
ANYA: “Yes we should! I melt when our bodies touch. I love you!”
ME: “You always look so beautiful. I loved the yellow sweater you wore today. Everything looks so good on you. Love your sense of fashion.
ANYA: “U looked really cute today! I love just chatting w/u! Ur so much fun! I’m excited to see you on Saturday night! We don’t have to drink if u don’t want. It doesn’t matter to me one way or another. I miss u.”
ME: “Even though I find you most intoxicating, I think we should drink! I miss u too!”
ANYA: “Ha! Good one!”
ME: “I still find it amazing we can gaze at each other and get lost so easily even after over five months of seeing each other.”
ANYA: “I truly love u. I look at u the way I do b/c I’m totally mesmerized! I can’t help it! I still can’t believe u have never said “Beautiful” to a girl before. R u really telling the truth about that?”
ME: “It’s the first time I’ve ever used it. I’ve been with pretty and cute girls, but never one I considered to be beautiful. The word just comes out naturally whenever I see you because you just are. It’s that simple. If you got to see yourself through my eyes, you would know how beautiful you really are. I still can’t believe anyone would cheat on you.”
ANYA: “Wow! I don’t know what to say. I’m blown away! Thank you! I love you!”
ME: “I love you too! If we were married you’d probably get sick of hearing that word from me.”
ANYA: “If we were married I would never leave your side and you would get sick of me! I love our energy!”
ME: “I think we have an incredible dynamic. Hard to imagine I’d ever get sick of that babe. I’d love having you by my side.”
ANYA: “When I hear the word “Beautiful”, it goes through one ear and out the other. Whenever u say it or text it, it stops in mid-air for me. Do you understand mid-air? Strange.”
ME: “I’m honest whenever I call you “beautiful”. It’s how I truly feel about you and if the situation was different. You would never doubt it.”
ANYA: “I believe u! Ur my best friend! We have good chemistry! I better say goodnight baby! I love you forever!”
ME: “Goodnight Beautiful! I love you forever too!”
For me to open up my heart like this, let alone have the bravery to call a woman “beautiful” was really a huge leap of faith for me under the circumstances. To leave my heart so exposed considering my prior luck with women was much less an act of courage than it was my belief in her love for me. I truly believed in our love and I trusted she was going to find a way to be with me like she always found a way to see me when she could, and if she had to, just like she did on this day.
When Saturday night finally arrived, I was up early that morning to get my place Anya acceptable. I found it remarkable how her presence always brought new life into me, and how greatly I loved the world with her in my life as cleaning my apartment was not viewed as a chore. I even went out that day and purchased a piece of art, a painting of a pier with a sunset in the distance. Even from a guy’s perspective it was hard to deny the tranquil mood and romantic ambiance the picture added to my room, especially if it rested between two wall candles. This special attention to romantic details also provided further evidence I was really in love. It was a rare weekend evening visit from her though, one we’ve never had before, so that fact alone deserved more than the norm from me. After our memorable weekend in Laguna Beach, I wanted to keep up the momentum of our relationship as I never took anything for granted, and she deserved that kind of respect from me after all she did for us, especially after our conversation a couple of days ago.
When she arrived at almost 7 p.m., she looked as beautiful as ever as I instantly flashbacked to the night I saw her at Republique when I thought my heart stopped. I never knew love could feel that way; that I would be absolutely floored by the sight of someone I had seen so many times before. Even though I didn’t see her every day, I would have thought by now the happiness and excitement would have settled down somewhat yet every time I saw her, I felt like I had just seen a shooting star. In the same breath, I also felt like a tight rope walker, one slip, and I could fall to my death because at this point, if I lost her, it could be fatal simply because I couldn’t go back to the life I had before I met her. Even though I truly felt this way, I knew I could never let her know how vulnerable I really was because I didn’t want her to feel any sense of obligation in loving me. I wanted to be loved because she truly did, and not because it was a burden not to. At this point, whenever I considered her V-Day dinner and her trip to Spain, her excursion to Tenerife, it was much more difficult now to imagine her with another man, any man. It was a heavy weight to know the man who truly loved her more than life itself, saw her much less than the one who did not, and it burned me inside to know he was allowed to be that close to someone who knew what love was after all he had done. More often than not now, these realizations suffocated and paralyzed me at times, and I did a good job of hiding it, but it was pronounced in my mind, and I knew the closer Anya and I would become, the more weight would be added. If our relationship were to end, it would no longer now be about a broken heart, but a broken soul.
We walked hand in hand through my complex and once we reached my apartment, we began to hold and kiss each other. Ten minutes later after we tempered our mutual show of affection and after I uncorked a bottle of wine, we perched ourselves on stools at my kitchen counter top. I worried about her drinking and driving so I didn’t give her a generous pour, about a third of a glass, however I filled my glass nearly to its rim. We then talked about our week, how much fun in Laguna Beach we had together, how we’ve missed each other since, and how we looked forward to Palos Verdes in just two days. Our talk did not take a serious tone, unlike our meeting just a couple of days prior, as we fed off our chemistry and energy, just beyond happy to be together again. I must have called her beautiful about ten times in a span of a half hour as the wine began to kick in. Every time I did so, Anya would turn shyly away then lean in to kiss me so it made it easier to do. Anya always seemed appreciative of the word and I meant it more and more after each time I said it.
After my second glass, while she still worked on her first, we decided to take our conversation to my room. Upon our entry as I walked with my arms wrapped around her, she noticed the new additions to my room, and commented how much she loved the new picture and how romantic the burning wall candles were. As she began to take off her clothes, and I removed mine I walked over to my CD player on my nightstand. I had made a CD of the songs I enjoyed the most she had burned for me, and when Michael Buble’s “You and I” began to resonate in our ears we both climbed onto my bed as she crawled into my arms.
We then started to kiss passionately, and when I felt her smooth cool skin upon mine our libidos started to intensify. Just when we reached the point of no return her phone suddenly began to vibrate. She then stopped to look at it, and once she did, she then turned to me with disappointment in her face.
“Babe, I have to take this call.” she said. “It’s him.”
“Okay.” I said as I rose from the bed quietly and turned off the CD player. “I’ll step outside to give you some privacy.”
“Okay, thanks babe.” she said with a look of surprise in her eyes that I even offered to.
As I walked outside my room and lightly closed the door behind me, I didn’t know how to feel. I wanted to be respectful but at the same time, I was not being respectful by being a part of this lie. I also didn’t want to hear the conversation at all because if it centered around their children, the business, or especially each other, I felt it would greatly affect me, and the more I thought of those types of discussions, the more it bothered me that she took his call. However, I couldn’t look at it that way because she had to give him the impression she wasn’t seeing anyone.
As these thoughts circulated, the depressant effect of the wine invaded my positive mind. The longer I waited, the more my negative mind took the wheel as I began to revisit her vexing texts such as her willingness to live with his infidelities before she met me, and what her friends would advise her to do regardless of his trysts. By the time the fifth minute passed since she took her phone call from him, I wondered how it was even possible she’d be willing to sacrifice her happiness now after all we’ve already shared; after all I was told about him. I then began to go back to her V-day dinner and Tenerife, specifically the Arts Hotel in Barcelona on the Mediterranean and I began to feel insecure, very insecure. By the tenth minute, I had visited my relationships with Lexi, Denise, Karyn, Sara and even my eight grade “crush” as I pondered how I could trust in her love so easily when no one had truly loved me before. Why did she need to take this call? Why couldn’t she just call him back in an hour? The depressant in two full glasses of wine blocked my ability to grasp onto anything positive as I was now in danger of giving her something to not only grasp, but to hold tightly. I then further reasoned why would she feel compelled to grasp anything if she was unhappy at home and she truly loved me? Was it possible that she truly was happy at home and hid that from me as well because she couldn’t help it?
After fifteen minutes of phone time with him passed, I was consumed by an onslaught of adverse thoughts, and with every second that ticked away, the more I realized there was something I had to know. A sixth sense inside, the intuitive, as my consciousness slammed on the gas to ignite the destructive thoughts throttling inside my head. Twenty-two minutes later, she appeared from behind my bedroom door and motioned for me to come back in. As I reentered the room, she lied down on my bed and grabbed my arms lovingly for me to position myself above her. We then began to kiss once again, but this time, right when we were about to go there, my conscience began to burn when I noticed the ring on her finger, the first time she had ever worn it to my place, as I now desperately needed to know something to put my heart hardening thoughts to rest.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure, babe.” she responded, unalarmed.
“I hate to even ask you this, but I need to know. I’m hoping you’ll be honest about it.”
“What is it?”
“Do you and your husband still have sex?”
Her soft brown eyes suddenly became lively as they widened and began to dart back and forth. I followed them intently as I waited for her answer.
“Yes.” she acknowledged.
My head, then shoulders, sank as I turned my face away from her and into the same pillow her head rested on. I didn’t know how to respond to an answer I did not expect to hear as the passion I felt for her that kept me together for nearly the last six months, my personal Higgs-Boson, began to pull me apart.
“I can’t believe it.” I replied, shaking my head, dazed. “I’m sorry, but I’m shocked.”
“I assumed you knew.” she deadpanned, equally if not more surprised.
“Anya, you told me you live like roommates. I’ve had roommates before and not once have I ever slept with one. You told me you never kiss him. You told me you never say “I love you” when he says it to you. You gave me the impression you were disgusted by him, not being intimate with him. I mean, my parents had never cheated on each other yet sleep in separate beds and in separate rooms so I had no idea you guys still slept together.”
“I have to go.” she said abruptly, slowly removing herself from under me before grabbing her clothes and frantically throwing them back on.
I didn’t realize my reaction may have scared her, and I didn’t mean to cause her any fear as I recognized the way I was positioned above her may have added to it as well. I was also drunk and I’m sure the confusion in my face and the pain in my voice spoke volumes, but wasn’t I allowed to react to this news? How could she just assume I knew she still slept with him after all she told me about how she felt about him? I walked away from her to avoid being in a position of being hurt by the actions of someone I loved. I even told her I didn’t want to fill a void, so how could she tell me she loves me so much and then do something that could only hurt me? If she wanted to truly be with me why would she continue to have sex with her husband? I guess she felt what I didn’t know couldn’t hurt me, but in my world, truth by omission was not truth, and she didn’t spare my feelings at all by keeping that from me. Because the truth was, she was engaging in the greatest of all intimate acts with him, the man she told me she no longer loved.
“I’m sorry Anya. I didn’t mean to frighten you, but I asked you for brutal honesty from the beginning even if it hurt me.” I desperately explained. “I think this is something I needed to know. Wouldn’t you agree?”
She did not acknowledge my words as she continued to get dressed and it was probably for the best because I don’t believe she had an argument. I understood she couldn’t help it. I understood she felt a great connection with me, but this is something I felt you’re supposed to help in life. If she was willing to live with it and sacrifice her own happiness for the sake of her children then what would stop her from continuing to sleep with her husband? I could no longer keep this up. It was painfully clear I wasn’t strong enough, and I could only save people who want to be saved. I was devastated when Denise left me for another man and this brought me back to the many lonely nights when I knew she wasn’t alone. I never wanted to find myself in that position ever again and was the reason why I walked away from Anya. I trusted her to be honest with me so I could also make the best decision for myself. I trusted her not to allow me to fall deeply in love with her then learn something like this. It left me to question what else did I not know? What else had she not told me? I felt I deserved full disclosure from her in the beginning not only for myself, but also so I would not put her in a position to feel she was betraying him.
I then began to question why she put me in a position to ask her these kind of questions when it was much harder now to do simply because I felt so much? Did she not know what love was? Did she not respect it? Does she understand how deeply it affects people? That some people are overtaken enough by it to ruin lives and even die for it? After all we shared I didn’t understand how she could even share the same bed with him. How she could even look him in the eye after all we’ve told each other and felt. How could she be so dishonest? This news just didn’t make an ounce of sense to me whatsoever.
After she was dressed, she then quickly exited my room. I was ready to just close my door and go to sleep, but I was concerned about her. Concerned she would go home to face her children, and I didn’t want them to see their mother in that kind of state as I felt responsible. After I got dressed, I walked alongside her outside my apartment and through the complex. It was a quiet walk back to the gate, the first one we ever had in which we did not hold hands nor say a word to each other, a mood as dark as the sky above us. When she exited the complex’s gate, I stayed with her and followed her until I reached her car to say good-bye to her, probably for the last time. She brought her face up to meet mine and her eyes were full of tears as she began to sob lowly yet uncontrollably. The tears rolled steadily from her cheeks as they flowed over my thumbs in a useless attempt to dry them. I then brought her in my arms and gave her a deep hug. As we broke away two minutes later, I brought her face up to mine.
“I love you.” she said with the saddest eyes I had ever seen. “I love you. I want to be with you. I want to be with you. I want to be with you. I want to make love to you. I love you. I love you so much.”
As she told me these things, I held her in my arms, and we began to kiss passionately as if it was for the last time. Under an observant moon, I felt and tasted her tears as they trickled down my face and upon my lips. With our trip to Palos Verdes only two days away, the fact remained that I wasn’t built for loving someone who shared intimacy with another. Even though I loved her, even as greatly as I did, our passion for each other would never survive that and neither would our love. Even though I wasn’t ready to end things with us at this moment because it broke my heart to see her this way, I knew I had to as soon as the sun rose as the death of my hopes, wishes and dreams were upon me.