“Silence like a cancer grows."

~ “The Sound of Silence” Paul Simon

ANYA: “Sorry babe. Can we meet at 11:45? Best I could do. Didn’t expect the curve ball.”

ME: “Don’t you dare apologize. I totally understand. Sounds good babe. See you then.”

Zero doubt existed. Jackson knew not only she had a relationship, but Landyn Lastman, not Landman, was his wife’s lover. Why did he not issue her an ultimatum? Was his arrogance so great it blinded him to the possibility she was in love with me? Did he consider myself so inferior to him that he believed she would eventually come back to him? Was this why he didn’t confront me at the symposium? Or did he fear the loss of his perfect image and reputation? Why would he choose to stay with her after a relationship that lasted nearly two years now? Was it because he knew about Lance and expected the same to happen here too? That I would eventually leave her too? Did he not consider how we’ve gotten so close over the last seventeen months? As these questions darted back and forth in my mind, I only knew one thing was certain, Jackson was breaking and a confrontation was inevitable. I didn’t know when it would happen, but I knew one thing was certain—when it did, I wouldn’t back down. He may have been her husband in the eyes of society, but in the eyes of God, if there was one, he lost her fifteen years ago.

I paced back and forth, not sure what to say to her. I typed up many thoughts in my journal just so I could track all of my heavy emotions to determine if they served a valid purpose. I didn’t know what happened at her home and what made Jackson convinced she belonged to him. She had to know where I stood—I couldn’t deceive her. I also didn’t think she was fair to judge me based on the situation due to its overall dishonest nature. If she took the set of circumstances away, and I acted crazy emotionally, I could see how that could give her pause. For anyone in this kind of situation, where there was an element that was easy to hide behind if one wanted to, it would be hard on any heart, especially one who loved her so judiciously. I never jumped into this with two feet, and even tried to walk away. I completely trusted she would never make promises to her children about not leaving if she pursued a relationship with me after I walked away from her. She wasn’t the best parent but Anya was a great mom. If she wanted to be the best parent, leaving Jackson was the right thing to do as it would teach her kids money didn’t lead to happiness. She even reminded me of my own mother at times and I could see why her son feared she would leave. Whenever she spoke of Andrew, we didn’t seem much different from each other when I was his age. For her to tell him though she would never leave, after she allowed and encouraged someone to fall deeply in love with her, was criminal. She just couldn’t tell me it was true love she felt if she wasn’t willing to share custody especially when she lived a life as if she already did. She either loved me in a completely different form or much less. I didn’t want Anya to hurt her kids, but I saw a valuable lesson from a parent within a promise to leave him. First of all, she would have told Andrew “no”, a word I don’t think either of her kids heard enough of. She would also become a person they could trust—a parent who refused to put on a show for them to give them a false sense of security. It would also provide her kids with an admission, that she knew she couldn’t fool them and she respected their ability to sense things weren’t right. The biggest message would be to her daughter, Katie, who blamed herself for the problems in the marriage. It would instead let her be able to sleep at night without such a heavy burden. If Anya had to blame me for the threat to divorce, I was all for it, because at least Katie could rest her mind about it knowing she was never to blame. That was why I thought Anya should leave Jackson –to be the great parent her kids needed her to be. If she were honest with them now, they would understand she lied to protect them. If she were to leave later down the road however, her kids would more than likely resent her for it because they knew something was amiss years earlier and she pretended as if nothing was wrong. When I learned through Katie’s own words that she overheard her mother threaten to divorce her father, that spoke louder to me than anything. In auditing, the best evidence to support a conclusion always comes from a third party. Whenever I questioned Anya’s love for me, all I really had to do was go back to Katie’s own words as the best evidence of Anya’s love; a confirmation by a third party. If I didn’t challenge Anya, the one who truly loved and cared for her, no one ever would. As much as I didn’t want to lose her, I knew I had to risk losing her in order for her to do the right thing. To choose a life of truth over a life of false hoods. She told me I deserved better one time. I agreed, but she did too—we both did. It was never about me—it was about we.

ANYA: “Here”

I raced downstairs to meet her at the gate when she arrived as I knew time was of the essence. Nothing appeared out of place as her beauty remained the same and she didn’t appear rattled as she put my hand in hers. When we were inside, she fell into my arms as if we never had a single disagreement after two fairly nasty ones that left us both unsettled.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he followed me here.” she told me as after her lips met mine.

“It wouldn’t surprise me either.” I said as grabbed her soft hand in mine and escorted her to my couch so we could talk.

As soon as she sat down, her phone began to ring as if on cue.

“Is it?” I asked.

She then nodded in affirmation…it was Jackson.

“I’m not going to answer it.” She said.

“What’s he going to do babe?” I asked. “It’s not like he’s going to the right thing and divorce you.”

“I just don’t want to deal with the twenty questions at home.” She said. “He’s not making it easy.”

“I understand how that can get stale.” I said. “If you answer it though, he’s less likely to have them, don’t’ you think?”

“I can’t talk to him right now.” she said as I knew she couldn’t hide from him all she felt in her heart.

I then grabbed her hand in mine and looked into her eyes – eyes that never wavered from mine as I began to speak.

“I hope you know what my goal is—it’s not to take you away from your kids.” I said. “But to get you away from him—from what he’s doing now. I’m just trying to save you from yourself.”

“I promised Andrew though, Landyn.” she said.

“What did you really promise him though, Sweetheart?” I asked. “More stress and unhappiness …things that cause disease? You may have promised him less years of you being there for him. Babe, he’s a kid and he’s only fearful because he knows something is wrong at home. You have to be honest with him.”

“As a mother, it’s my responsibility to provide a stable family environment.” She countered.

“But babe, how can you possibly provide that…when there’s so much you are holding inside?” I asked. “It’s true, a mother may have the responsibility to provide a stable family environment, but a parent would never provide them with a false stable family environment.”

“But babe…” she said.

“Sweetheart, please hear me out here. Me aside…let’s say I’m not in your life. This stable family environment is not only not good for their mother, but it’s also not good for them. Anya, I know you’re not an angry person, but you’re fuming inside, so much so, your kids think you’re unloving. This anger is more pronounced than ever because of me, but I know you, and I know there is so much beauty inside of you that you’re not living your life to the fullest because you’re keeping it from people, even from your own kids. Can you honestly tell me your kids are being properly nurtured when you have so much resentment bottled up inside of you? Don’t you think if were truly happy, and you chose to lead a life of truth, that your kids could only benefit from that? How could them being able to feel and even see your love ever hurt them? They have a right to know their mother the way I know her. If you’re not loving towards your husband, and he’s hounding you because he knows your marriage lacks the most essential thing every marriage need—trust, then your kids are going to think it’s okay to not trust their significant others as well. I know you, and I know you don’t want the pain you feel inside for your kids. Staying for their sake is a vicious cycle, Anya. Your pain will only continue to be passed down from mother to child. Don’t you think in some way that you’re hurting now because of the love you didn’t see, but needed to see, growing up? How come you never dreamt of falling in love when you were a little girl? That’s something I’ve never heard before because most girls dream of their Prince Charming. You couldn’t even remember if you were happy on your wedding day. Babe, you’re making a terrible mistake by staying with this man. By allowing him to ask you twenty questions when there’s really only one question left to be asked. I’m not a proponent of divorce. I think people should try to stick together for “better or for worse”, but I think all the infidelities between you both nullifies that. There’s no sanctity in your marriage. If there’s truly a God, in his eyes false vows were given and the marriage is cursed until the light of the truth brings its dishonest nature to an end. If you’re looking for support from the holy, refer to Matthew five, verse thirty-two.”

Anya looked at me with sadness in her eyes, as her head fell to the ground and back up at me. Since she did not speak, I continued to.

“You told me yourself, when we talked of suicide, it was a sin to not live your life to the fullest. If that’s true, not only are you committing a sin, but also suicide. Babe, your kids will be fine—no one is leaving Andrew. No one is going to take him away from you. He’s only afraid of you leaving because he’s in the dark but he knows something is wrong. If you’re truly happy, how can he be ever be afraid of what your light brings upon him? Katie and Andrew need you to have the courage to show them important lessons in life, like this one, and I think by staying you’re going to cause them damage in their future relationships. I think a divorce would benefit them in the sense it would force their father to take a more active role in their lives; to not just show up for games and competitions, and not leave you in harm’s way. Maybe they would even get to know him better and get closer? It would also teach them what leads to true happiness in life and they are equally important in a marriage. That it should be fair and equitable. Babe, as much as an honor it is, I should never know Katie better than her father. I’m begging you to think about this long and hard. You deserve to be happy and your kids would only benefit from it. I think if they knew all you went through, and why you’re so unhappy, I think they would be upset with you for placing the burden of your unhappiness on them. I guarantee you, when they are older, they will come to understand, and it would only inspire them to pursue happiness as well. I only say these things with nothing but all the humility and respect in the world and out of my love for you—not from just someone who wants to be with you, but I say it to you as your best friend as well. You’re just one step away, and I promise you this—you will thank me one day.”

Her eyes never left mine the entire time as she sincerely took in all I had to say. All I had on my mind before she arrived that Jackson’s suspicions put into overdrive. I’ve just come too far to not lay it on the line like I had to.

“I’ll consider all you’ve said” she said. “but I can’t handle the pressure, babe.”

“It feels like pressure to you because I’ve expressed it with more pain than love. I don’t think my love has come through the wire as much as I hoped it would.” I reflected. “The toughest thing about my pressure is you feel for the most part, the same pain I do, and I understand it’s why you get upset at me for it. As much as I wish I could take the hurtful words back, I know I can’t, but I can at least let you know I’ve recognized what I’ve said and how they made you feel and say I’m sorry.”

“I understand you love me and it’s why you say the things you do.” she said as tears filled her eyes.

“I don’t know if you remember this, but one night, a while back, you told me you were having thoughts of running and you even texted me “why can’t I be with the one I love?”. I continued. “I would say it was your most vulnerable hour yet I never took advantage of that and didn’t put pressure on you to leave. I didn’t pressure you because I love you and I knew that would hurt your kids. In fact, I hold back sexually because I think that will lead me to pressure you to leave so I hope you know the pressure is never intentional. I honestly think about your kids when I say the things I do. It’s the hardest thing for me to do, to tell you not to run when I knew you would, because I wanted to be with you so bad. If you were to ever run to me though, I’d let you spend the night with me, but in the morning, I would only send you back home. Not because I don’t love you, but because I do. I just hope when you think of my “pressure”, you remember the times when you were most vulnerable, when you wanted to run, and I pushed you to stay as badly as I wanted you to be in my arms. If it feels like pressure, I apologize but it doesn’t mean leave now and be with me, but rather just see me when you can, and that I’m missing you terribly. I don’t care where…I’ll drive to you even after a long day if I have a chance to see you. It doesn’t matter what we do together as long as I get to spend some time with you. RJ’s, Good Morning Cafe, Starbucks, PV, Abalone Cove, Sonoma’s, here…wherever. Any place you feel safe and comfortable at.”

The one thing I loved about Anya is how she always let me have the floor. She never spoke over me, and I had her full attention as if I were Winston Churchill. She never spoke above me, and hung on every single word and syllable. She allowed me to express my ideas as if she wanted me to challenge her. How many men would fight for her the way I did for almost seventeen months? She needed to see the sincerity in my eyes so she could trust it, and I meant every word. To know the pressure only existed because I loved her far beyond the words I spoke. I would’ve announced all I did on the floor of Congress if I could.

After I spilled my guts, it appeared to have been well received when we made it to my bed so I could hold her in my arms for the final twenty minutes of her visit. To see her leave was one of the hardest things I’ve ever endured, but when she did, I felt we had a better understanding of where we stood; the overall goal of her visit. We even got to feel our love for each other, as my candleless room showed I didn’t expect it. I walked her out to make sure Jackson didn’t plan to ambush her and when she drove safely way, I knew she would be okay.

When she texted me after she left not ten minutes after she departed, I knew she took my words to heart.

ANYA: “I miss u.”

ME: “I miss u, too”

Although I’d probably not see her again during my week off from work, it was just nice to know we were back on the same page. Then more Jackson hawked her, I refused to push her as much as I needed her. After our visit, I realized the jewelry she wore the other day was meant for me to see another side of her beauty, but she already captivated my soul a long time ago. Her ensemble had to be what tipped her off to Jackson as I recalled the time, she told me he looked her up and down, on a day she planned to visit me. A day he also stayed home in suspicion, what had to be over a year ago. Later that evening I texted to see how her night was going and to tell her how I felt, but I didn’t hear back from her until an hour later.

ANYA: “Sorry. I was in a looooong meeting at the temple for Katie’s NY trip in May. Just finished and late for Bday dinner. I had a great time too! I love you!”

Anya never told me about a “Bday dinner”, but after such a great day together, I couldn’t let it bother me. Three hours later, she sent me a text I didn’t expect.

ANYA: “Just leaving dinner! Nite!”

Although it bummed me out I didn’t hear from Anya much on this particular evening, it was thoughtful of her to let me know I was on her mind as much as she was on mine. When the last morning in April arrived, a day that also officially marked the seventeenth month of our relationship, I texted Anya to wish her a good morning, and she didn’t waste a minute to respond.

ANYA: “Good morning! Loved being in your arms! It was fun! I like it when we don’t have pressure.”

ME: “Me too, babe. I never intend on giving you pressure because I know it bothers you, and you know how badly I want to be with you. It’s also hard to not only see the love of my life, but my best friend too, go through her days unhappy and miserable. That’s not how anyone should have to live their life. It’s too short. In the meantime, I just want to give you all I can so you don’t have to.”

ANYA: “I understand. I’m not happy but I’m not miserable. I can control that part.”

I guess she could control that part. She could see me any time she wanted to and she had friends, neighbors and staff she could hang with. Her unhappiness did border misery however if she slept days off just to get through them. That didn’t sound like someone who lived a life free of misery, although she could control it somewhat. I just knew if she lost me, just the same as if I lost her, we both would be miserable and unhappy. I didn’t want that for her or for myself. We still had each other and she still slept her days off so what would her life be without us?

After our textversation, I drove to Palos Verdes to walk the trails near the cliffs. I really needed the crisp air and the surreal blue Pacific to clear my head. It would be my first time back since Anya and I walked it together and stumbled upon “our beach”, Abalone Cove. When I reached the trail to our beach, I walked down to see if it looked the same and it did, still a hidden sort of paradise. I then decided to sit on the sand and watch the waves roll in, as I revisited that day, with Anya as she smiled underneath my towel, and as the sun graced her body as she knelt in the sand with her hair strewn about yet unable to hide the love in her eyes and the pure joy she felt as much as I did. It just seemed the universe brought us together on that day, as the sun and ocean conspired to play a role in our love. Nothing spoke more about the beauty of our love than that day did—when it seemed the Universe was completely on our side regardless of her kids, and any other reason that kept us apart. As I walked along the cliffs, I texted Anya so it could feel like she was with me.

ME: “Texting you from Abalone Cove. It’s beautiful here babe, but not as beautiful without you.”

ANYA: “I bet! I’m sorry I’m not there with you.”

It struck me in the heart when she didn’t text “I wish I was there with you”, but instead chose to apologize she couldn’t be there. I tried not to interpret it because I didn’t know how to. Did her apology mean she could’ve been here with me? Or instead of wishing, she apologized for not being there as if she thought she should? Or would she opt not to go even if she could? Or perhaps, I was reading into it too much because she couldn’t go because Jackson stayed home again. The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel sad about it.

ME: “Whenever and wherever it is beautiful, you are with me. You’re in every beautiful blue sky, every dazzling sunset, in every soothing sound of the breaking waves. Every beautiful thing I ever see or experience you’re with me, because I think of you everytime.”

ANYA: “Oh that was beautiful babe. Thank you. R u walking?”

No “awww”, but rather an “oh”. Or maybe the “oh” meant more? I didn’t know, but I would like to think it meant more than an “awww” would. Or perhaps, yet again, I read too much into things, but that’s what her texts began to do to me. I should’ve also considered she didn’t want to be replaced by objects. It was just a spur of the moment thing and I hoped she didn’t think I wouldn’t take her here all because I walked the cliffs on this day. If she told me to come pick her up so she could be with me, I had done it in a heartbeat.

I spent a half hour on the beach at Abalone Cove before I hiked again on the trails. I walked for about another hour before I headed back to my car—with only two minutes left on the parking meter. Close to my parent’s home, I figured a visit was in order but before I started my car engine, Anya texted me.

ANYA: “Muah!”

ME: “Muah! Just ended my hike. Heading to my parents’ house now.”

ANYA: “Ok have fun! Hi to mom!”

When I read Anya’s “hi to mom”, I began to laugh at my own critical assessment of her texts to me. How ridiculous was it of me to analyze her responses that way? An “oh” versus an “awww”? How could I be that obsessed over a message behind the message? I felt crazy to think that way as I vowed to not read into her texts, and to trust her. Her “hi to mom” was too sweet to think for a second, any woman with intentions to hurt me, would ever say such a thing. Her text left me with positive vibes and it carried over into a very positive visit with my mom, who revealed that although she had trouble eating because of the sores in her mouth, the doctors told her the chemo seemed to be working. I really needed the good news, but Anya always made my life better when she remained consistent in her communication with me. On my way home, I received another text from her.

ANYA: “Hope ur having a nice visit!”

It was hard not to hope, let alone imagine, having her accompany me on my visits to see my mother. Her texts gave me hope not only for an introduction I wanted so badly to make, but also the dreams I had of us together in her room, watching the same shows my mom did with a bowl of popcorn to share among us. I also imagined a grandchild for my mother too, just a room full of love and respect for all the people in it. A dream I started to have each time I visited my mother as if it could be one of the last times as the reality of her disease began to chip away at that dream each day that passed, the danger and audacity of dreaming.

The following afternoon, on the last weekday of my vacation, a Friday and the first day of May, Anya surprised me, on a day she had to be in the corporate office.

ANYA: “Maybe we can meet later for a bit on my way home? Idk exactly how long I’ll be at work.”

I didn’t hesitate to say yes, as my vacation would now have a happy conclusion. But as the day progressed, and right before her visit, an unfortunate situation developed.

ANYA: “OMG! I can’t c u now! Too embarrassing! Bit into a juicy strawberry and it dripped all over my blouse!”

ME: “OMG! I’m so sorry to hear that babe! You probably look nicer though with a strawberry stain on your blouse than I do in my unstained clothes! Please don’t let that stop you. I really want to see you.”

ANYA: “I was kidding about not seeing u! Oh, I don’t really care as long as u don’t! I look like a big baby!”

ME: “I got Tide! I got All Temperature Cheer! I even have Palmolive here! I’ll clean it for you, babe. Whatever you need!”

ANYA: “Ha ha! K I’ll text u in a bit!”

Around Anya I recovered all the confidence I ever lost—all the confidence my father took and all the girls who ever made me feel unworthy of love stole from me. Even with uncomfortable emotions, Anya always had a way to make me comfortable. I know I let her down whenever I broke down, but when we began our relationship, she never told me she would need the permission of her kids for her to leave. That she would need their stamp of approval and their blessing, and that’s what I had to fight back—the reason for my struggles. Why would I ever choose to be in a relationship and to put her children, let alone her, in that position if I knew this at the beginning? I didn’t want to fall in love with someone who relied on others to make the decision to leave for her. Even another man, Lance, suffered the same tragic fate, but unlike him, I refused to go down the same path he did without a fight. As much as I loved Anya, as much as I didn’t want to pressure her, and as much as I wanted to trust her, I just could no longer disappear without a trace into that goodnight. If her excuse was “I couldn’t help it” and I was supposed to understand, then she would have to understand the reasons why “I couldn’t help it”, as well. She couldn’t allow or encourage any man to develop massive feelings for her in this situation—especially when that person walked away initially because they feared what I now endured. Unless she was willing to go to bat for them and to catch them when they fell. If I didn’t challenge Anya to have love, after she couldn’t help it, then I failed her in every way.

ANYA: “Leaving Irvine in 5 min! Can’t stay long!”

ME: “I understand. Just happy to see you!”

When I read her text, it left me confused. I already knew this would be a short visit because she had to pick up the kids from school. If she felt she would cut it too close, she didn’t have to visit at all. I always thought if she offered, then she had enough time albeit short. I almost texted her to let her know it was okay if she couldn’t make it, but before I could she had already arrived. As I walked to open the gate, I planned to just send her home as just the chance to have her in my eyes and to hold her for a minute or two meant the world to me because it wasn’t expected.

As I tried to talk her out of it, she refused as she put her hand in mine and kissed me as soon as she entered the gate. As the sun shone above, even with a strawberry stained blouse, her beauty remained intact. When we got inside my apartment, she stomped her foot and sported a pouty face when she pointed out the spot on her blue blouse. I then rubbed my hands softly along her bare shoulders and laughed as the spot was barely noticeable. She came into my arms as my lips met her pouty ones.

“If you didn’t point that out to me, I would’ve never noticed it was there.” I said.

“I would love to lie with you on your bed right now, but I won’t have enough time babe.” she said as she looked up into my eyes. “The longest I can stay is twenty minutes.”

“That’s twenty minutes more than I expected, babe.” I said. “I just love having you here. Do you know how many times you’ve visited my place?”

“You know?” she asked in astonishment.

“I sure do.” I announced. “This is your forty fourth visit here.”

“Really? Forty-four times?” She exclaimed. “How do you know?”

“I keep track of your visits, even all the times we’ve ever met up in my journal.” I said. “We have so many beautiful memories. Your first visit. Una Toda Vida. My birthday lunch. Even the time you came just to try to break up with me was a beautiful moment.”

“Awww. Babe. I came to break up with you but I didn’t want to.”

“I know.” I said as I nearly teared up myself. “I tasted your tears.”

She then moved her lips back into mine for about ten seconds before she spoke to me again.

“One of my friends is getting divorced.” She revealed.

“Oh no.” I said. “Anyone I know?”

“No—no one you know babe. She just told me yesterday.”

“Was this a friend you saw during the birthday party you went to?” I said as I worried because she never mentioned the birthday party during her visit.

“No, I talked to her before I went to the Birthday party.” She said.

“Is she seeing someone?” I asked.

“No—she says she doesn’t want to date anyone for a while. She wants to take her time.”

“I think that’s where Flora went wrong. She jumped right back into the dating scene.” I said. “I think your friend is doing the right thing.”

“I agree.” she said.

“Flora was trying to recover from her grief and that’s why she dated so quickly.”

Anya nodded her head and then brought her eyes away from mine, something she rarely did. She then hit me with something as unexpected as her twenty-minute visit.

“I don’t blame my friend for not jumping right into another relationship. I’d wanna do the same thing.” she said. “To be with anyone right after a separation is scary, and I’d want some time to see if this is what I wanted.”

I couldn’t believe what I had just heard as I felt I just received a shot to the back of my head. She would need time, after she left Jackson, to see if she even wanted to date me? After all her hopes, wishes and dreams? After all the missing I didn’t even know about? After she wanted to wear my ring? And she wonders why I pressured her at times an why I wasn’t a “big boy”? Did I misinterpret things? Even after all those times she wanted to run to me? She would even need time to figure out if this was what she wanted after I gave her nearly two years of my life so she could? If there was ever a statement that revealed her love only existed for me because the entire relationship existed on her terms, she provided me with her answer. Was this twenty minute visit intentionally cut short and made just to tell me this?

“If you ever needed some time to think if being with me is what you wanted, after nearly two years of being with me, after all we’ve shared and all you’ve ever told me you hoped, wished and dreamed for—then I’d have to leave you for good.” I said.

“No, that’s not true!” she exclaimed. “It’s just something I wouldn’t want to do right away.”

Anya claimed I hurt her with some of the things I texted to her, but this hurt me to hear beyond anything I could have ever texted that hurt her. After seventeen months together, she wouldn’t want to be with me right away if she got divorced or separated? After she had a dream of our wedding not too long ago? Did she forget this was the same man she fantasized having a baby with? The same man she claimed would be a dream come true if we were married? I could understand not being together right away out of respect for her kids, but why did she find it “scary” to be with someone right after a separation when she dated me for the last seventeen months of her sixteen-year marriage? After I taught her what love was all about and took this giant leap of faith all for her, she hit me with this? If “I didn’t want to share custody” wasn’t bad enough, she now made me feel like the bad guy all because I wanted to be with the one, I loved?

Forty-three of the prior visits Anya made, I hoped time would stand still, but on her forty- fourth visit, I couldn’t wait for the twenty minutes to put an end to this destruction of my heart and soul. As the negative energy swelled inside of me, I prayed I wouldn’t crack emotionally in front of her. This living room where I stood with her, full of the best moments of my life, was now far from living. Her words led me to one hard question—how could she feel anything for me even remotely close to all I felt for her? How could she be so flagrant? Everything she led me to believe she feared to lose; I now feared to lose more than she did.

As I walked her out to her car, I smiled to hide the pain I felt by what she said as her words left me feeling dead inside. Before she exited the gate, I hugged her as if what she said didn’t scar my heart. After she exited the parking lot, I decided to go for a ride to take my mind off of her more than “scary” comments. When I ended up at an old spot near my parent’s house, called Royal Palms. I parked just a hundred feet away from the rocks that separated the coast line from the Pacific as a meteor shower of thoughts streaked through my mind. My father and mother used to take me there when I was a kid, where I’d climb on the seaweed strewn rocks then pick them up to see how far I could throw them into the ocean. Sometimes I’d be pinched by an annoyed crab or get poked by a perturbed sea urchin who had made the rocks their shelter but they had plenty of other rocks to choose from. When I got older, I spent many sunsets there, desperately depressed to be alone with my thoughts. Thirty-eight year later, I couldn’t believe I was back again; this time left alone by someone who actually loved me. I stayed inside my car as I listened and watched the waves roll in and out as tortuous thoughts seemed to ride with each swell.

What hurt the most was how it seemed Anya never appreciated the sacrifices I made for her happiness over the last seventeen months. She treated my love for her like Jackson’s—something that could be turned off and on when necessary. She accused me of being “contradictive” yet she told me she wished she belonged to me, but now found it frightening to jump into a relationship with me after separating and wanted to see if it was what she wanted? What were the last seventeen months about then? How could she discount all I ever felt and did for her? My love never wavered, my need for her only increased. I knew what I wanted from the very first night I met her, but trusted her promises and words before I’d pursue it. It also seemed she felt I should just be thankful for her love regardless of her belonging to me as well, as if she gifted herself to me, and not the other way around. As if I wanted to fall in love with her even if I couldn’t have her, after I made it clear that was never the case seventeen months ago. She seemed to come into this relationship with the idea that it would be okay to love me deeply, render me completely naked and vulnerable, then leave it up to me to put my “big boy” pants on and end it all if I wasn’t happy with our status—without a single concession from her other than to leave me high and dry. Lastly, it now seemed her love for me only existed on the sole condition that I would support her decision to stay for the kids. If I didn’t support her, then her love didn’t exist for me as well. That’s why she was always perfectly fine with the “loving someone is letting go” mantra. How could she fail to comprehend that if she told me the real reason she stayed with Jackson when we first met, that I would’ve never dated her in the first place? How could she forget so easily that I walked away from her because of this very reason? Why would I disrupt that? Why would I allow myself to be in a situation that would not only hurt her kids, but ultimately myself? I felt so railroaded by her last two visits. It was grossly unfair and disrespectful to all we’ve shared, and all I’ve ever felt for her. I only allowed myself to fall so in love with her because I trusted she would promise to be with me if she fell in love with me. If I knew she was willing to live with her husband’s four separate infidelities seventeen months ago, I would’ve never gotten involved. I felt she should’ve disclosed so much more to me in the beginning than she did. It was her duty to tell me she still had sex with him on a regular basis, and that she still slept in the same bed. That the infidelities never bothered her enough to redesign her sleeping arrangements—as if she had forgiven him. That she was still there because mothers sacrifice their own happiness for kids, and not because she didn’t want to burden anyone with her baggage. That her circle of friends in high places was everything to her. That losing seventy five percent of her friends if she left him was too much to risk. That her own mother even sacrificed her happiness for her. After all I went through with Denise, there was no way I’d put myself in the same position with someone who seemed to not know what love was at all, especially a married woman.

I felt betrayed—as if my life meant nothing to her. She decided instead to punish and hurt the man who truly appreciated her rather than the man who had a history of abusing her. When she used the word “scary” I didn’t understand how she could be scared of a man she claimed to love enough to dream about her marriage to him. Love was an emotion and she had no right to deny something she gave to me. I never screamed nor even cursed at her. I never threw my phone against the wall or anything that would put her in any state of reasonable fear. I was only hurt and her love was the band-aid. I only wanted her to show me she loved me as much as she said she did. As much as she did in San Diego.

The situation is what unsettled me, and I refused to let her inconsistency chip away at my heart. My feelings never changed only because I wanted to give her a chance to prove me wrong—blaming the situation that led to her dishonesty. I tried to understand her predicament, but I found it unfair to judge me for my emotions within it, while another man, if she left Jackson, would never have to deal with a situation like I did. She should only judge me when she removed the situation that drove my wild emotions. I didn’t believe the breakdowns I had emotionally and the manner in which I presented my feelings to her were entirely excusable. I just felt I was being unfairly judged by her for them as if she were free to love. Over the span of our relationship, she told me many heavy things, but how real could all those things be if she wasn’t willing to be on my doorstep the minute she left Jackson? She told me she would run to me if she ever left him, but now she needed time to determine if she wanted to be with me? Yet I was the contradictory one? This was a perfect example why I lost it emotionally whenever she said things inconsistent with the things she said and did that rendered me completely vulnerable because I trusted her with my life. She even told me that she had “real thoughts of leaving”. When I say things that show I want to be with her, why would she ever fight me if her real thoughts of leaving were true? I had never felt so lost.

As the waves continued to crash on the rocks before me, and more seaweed was spread about, my phone began to vibrate.

ANYA: “What r u up to?”

ME: “I’m at Royal Palms, it’s a parking spot off the coast. It’s near my parent’s house so I’m thinking about going to see my mom afterwards. I’m just thinking about what you told me today.”

ANYA: “Don’t be sad. Just wanted u to know what I was feeling. Have a good evening. Hello to ur mom.”

ME: “Ok. I will. You have a good evening too.”

ANYA: “Take me to Royal Palms one day?”

ME: “I would love to.”

I then put my phone away as I felt her text was thoughtful but also sincere—sent probably out of boredom at home. What she told me was something someone she loved should never have to hear, let alone ever have to feel. She discounted every single moment and feeling I ever had with her and I felt she had cheated on me. The hard truth of the matter was if she truly loved me the way I loved her, she would’ve never felt the need to tell me what she did. As I looked out upon the ocean, I was now on the cusp of losing all I ever loved and worked so hard for. The entire week, I hoped this vacation would reconnect us, instead Anya’s words disconnected me enough to regret we ever met. I didn’t want to give her any grief about this as it would only be perceived as pressure. All I could do was deposit my grief into my vault of heartbreak.

When I left Royal Palms, I decided to just go home, and not burden my mother who fought her own source of sadness. It would only worry her and I didn’t want to give her the impression Anya and I were having problems—especially after I told Anya my mom knew who she was. I didn’t hear from Anya the rest of the night, and after her words that day, I refused to ever initiate another text with her, as the last thing I wanted to do now was “scare” her.

The next day, I didn’t hear from Anya until ten the next morning, and if I hadn’t heard from her, she wouldn’t have heard from me.

ANYA: “Good morning!”

I was always happy to hear from her, but when she just said “Good morning!” on a Saturday, I contemplated whether or not to respond because the only man who cared enough to dry her tears, didn’t want to frighten her any further.

ME: “Good morning!”

ANYA: “Did you visit your mom last night?”

ME: “I did. She said hello to you.”

ANYA: “Ur an angel”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I didn’t go see her as I didn’t want her to feel responsible for it. I don’t know what Anya’s definition of an “angel” was, but I guess even an “angel” frightened her these days. I didn’t hear from her for most of the day, so I decided to drive around a little bit to get her silence off my mind, and how empty she left me to feel. At around four that afternoon, she sent me a text that prompted me to pull my car over so I could read it.

ANYA: “Today’s the 2nd. It would be 2 years next month! I heard Sonoma’s was packed w/young kids in their 20’s! Yikes!”

ME: “Hard to believe! That’s really hard to believe about Sonoma’s too! A total 360. What r u up to?”

ANYA: “On my way to the game!”

ME: “Ok. I hope you can enjoy the game.”

ANYA: “I miss u.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

ME: “Miss u, too.”

Her texts did make me feel a little less empty, as I decided to drive home and end my aimless Saturday afternoon drive. When I got home, I knew I had to get out of my apartment on this long night as the silence overwhelmed me enough to pressure her if I didn’t. I decided to visit Sonoma’s to see how the remodel looked and if what Anya said about the new crowd was true. As I pulled into the parking lot, my phone’s red light blinked—a message from Anya awaited me.

ANYA: “How was your day?”

I felt if I received a text message from her on this night, it would only be sent to say “goodnight”. Instead it seemed like she wanted to talk.

ME: “It was good. How was yours? Did Andrew’s team win?”

ANYA: “Good. Yes, they did!”

When an exclamation point failed to follow her “good”, I knew we both had just “ok” days. I just didn’t want to give her grief about this, but I had an especially hard day if it culminated in me wanting to get out to the apartment to visit a place I could really care less about. I just didn’t know where else to go with my pain.

ME: “That’s good! Happy for Andrew!”

ANYA: “I think so! Staying in tonite?”

An odd thing happened; in the last seventeen months together, not one single time had Anya ever asked me on a Saturday night if I planned to stay in or not. It made me hope she spotted me outside and wanted to say hello. I also started to believe she began to regret what she told me, as she seemed somewhat afraid to lose me, the Anya I always trusted in. At that moment, I had to tell her where I was even though I now felt strong enough to return home to catch up on the sleep I missed the prior evening.

ME: “I think I need to get out of my apartment tonite.”

ANYA: “Mom’s?”

ME: “Not tonight. I’m going to check out the new Sonoma’s.”

ANYA: “Should be interesting.”

ME: “Did Carolyn or Debbie tell you that it was packed with young kids?”

ANYA: “No some other friends did.”

ME: “Friends you’ve met there before or other friends you know who hang out there?”

ANYA: “Not friends just people I know.”

ME: “I see.”

Her texts made me wonder if Anya knew as many people who went to Sonoma’s as often as Mitch did. It only left me to wonder who these “people” were, as I thought I’d know more about Sonoma’s happenings than she did.

ANYA: “Better say goodnight! Have fun and be careful. I love u.”

ME: “Thanks. Have a goodnight! Love u too.”

On a night I missed her the most, it was nice to hear from her. After I noticed our office was left untouched, I couldn’t stomach the inside of the newly remodeled Sonoma’s for more than twenty minutes before I left as I also witnessed what I was faced with if I ever lost her. After I received her uninitiated “I love u” text, she seemed to be regretful for what she said to me the other day. I got the feeling she knew what she said was contradictory, and I loved her too much to punish her. Her thoughtfulness allowed me to quickly fall asleep as a text from her awaited me when I woke up the next day.

ANYA: “Good morning! So how was it?”

ME: “Good morning! It was ok.”

ANYA: “How long did you stay?”

ME: “About twenty minutes.”

ANYA: “Was it any different? Office still there? SE?”

ME: “Our office is still there! The only changes I saw was that they added some more flat screens and put in a couple of new booths where the tables used to be along the windows. They reupholstered all the booths. I didn’t see SE…so I’d have to say the place has seen an improvement.”

ANYA: “Hmmm”

Her “hmmm” response I couldn’t entirely decipher but if she thought I’d be there more often with him, she couldn’t be more wrong about anything in her life. Most men she knew made no secret they liked younger women, but I preferred women like Anya as I had nothing in common with the younger women who now were patrons of Sonomas. I also wasn’t a predator like her husband who dated a teenager after he hit his thirties. The one thing that would surely lead me to pressure Anya is if she ever confused her husband with me—there was no comparison. If I allowed her to compare him to me to justify his behavior, as if he made small errors in judgment, I could never feel more betrayed by her. Especially when I knew the only reason she justified his behavior was because of his money, and the potential loss of her image in the eyes of the seventy five percent of fake friends she feared to lose.

ME: “What are you thinking?”

ANYA: “Oh nothing.”

ME: “Tell me babe. What r u thinking?”

ANYA: “Nothing really. What r u up to today?”

ME: “I have some errands to run. Typical catch up weekend. What r u up to today? Were you able to get the strawberry stain off your blouse?”

ANYA: “Oh it’s in my laundry basket to take in. I’m sure they will get it out. Thx for asking. At temple for Andrew’s Bar Mitzvah meeting.”

ME: “Is he having his Bar Mitzvah on July 4th? The day of his birthday?”

I didn’t hear back from Anya after this text I sent her until several hours later.

ANYA: “Good memory! Yes 4th of July but boys have theirs at 13. Close though! Whatcha doin? Ready for tomorrow?”

I responded back quickly, but I still wondered what her “oh nothing” text meant. Did her

silence have something to do with her slow response? Even if things didn’t work out for us, the last thing I planned to do was go back to Sonomas. My heart and mind would be in no shape to go and secondly, I was nothing like her husband and not attracted to women younger by a decade or more. If I lost Anya, I would be more likely to be found at the top of a marine green suspension bridge in the Port of Los Angeles than inside Sonomas listening to Mitch patting himself on the back.

I didn’t hear back from her for the rest of that evening, and even though it still hurt, I started to expect her inconsistency. She didn’t even return my “I love you” or “I miss you” at times now because I questioned if she truly did. She wanted me to understand her but she seemed to not understand how her silence made me feel unsafe, and how the things she said during her last two visits left me to question her love. She also had a way of showing her love in ways I never saw coming that made me believe she did love me. I struggled to find the balance between those two feelings though because her silence ruled most of the time these days. She would go silent, I’d question her love, she’d then ask to see me, I’d get my mind back on track only to be hit with “I don’t want to share my kids” and “I would need some time to think about dating you if I left my marriage”. Things that only confirmed the doubts I felt. I’d rather her just rip my heart out of my chest, admit she fell out of love with me, so I wouldn’t have to wonder. Instead, she let me get caught in the vortex of her love.

How come she only looked at how “scary” it was for her? Couldn’t she see how “scary” it could be for me that someone who claimed to hope, wish and dream of being with me for the last seventeen months would need time to figure out if she even wanted to be with me? It almost felt as if she thought I should’ve known better than to date a married woman with kids and punished me for it. It felt as if she said to me “you knew I was married with kids from the beginning and how dare you put me in the position to promise to be with you and want me to hurt my kids!” and “you knew I was married with kids from the beginning so this is a gift I’m giving you!” Since it didn’t fit her narrative, she conveniently forgot all she told me that brought me here. She held on to the things she decided to be honest about after I fell deeply in love with her. Those were the things she wanted me to pay attention to and what held all the weight. As if I could only hold her to things she felt at this time, and not a single thing she did or said that allowed and encouraged me to be so in love with her. As much as it unsettled me to believe she was the kind of person to love so recklessly—if she did love me with any intent to be true to the things she said and did that allowed me to feel all this pain and sadness, she really did ruin my life.

When the next day arrived, I felt out of sorts—abandoned by the person I trusted to be honest with me from the beginning about the pain I had to feel today. As her silence continued, I didn’t know what to do with the turmoil she left me to feel within. It’s almost like she purposely wanted to break me down emotionally. Not that I wanted to kill anyone or to boil Suki in a pot, but this had to be similar to what Glenn Close’s character felt in “A Fatal Attraction” because the pain and loneliness was so great, a huge part of me wanted the truth to be known. The difference was though, I didn’t want to take it out on Anya, but on Jackson. I blamed him for the way she misled me to believe she would leave him when we first mer. He inspired her by his actions and inactions throughout their entire marriage, an entity I felt should be shut down like a company plant that pollutes the environment regardless of the jobs its employees lost. I saw their marriage as a prop to make money, and not a union of sanctity. Jackson didn’t even respect the sanctity of marriage when he cheated on his pregnant wife with a married woman, so why did his marriage deserve any respect? If there was a God, and Jackson broke the vows made to Him more than once, then how could God be against me when I only armed myself with love and the truth? The more Jackson’s behavior was positively reinforced, the more people would lay in the wake of their marriage

When I didn’t hear from her in the morning, I texted Anya in the afternoon to try and quiet the demon who sought to destroy us.

ANYA: “Have a nice day at work! Btw the girls and I had a round table discussion and decided to go forward with Cabo.”

ME: “That’s great! Sounds like fun! I love you!”

I feigned my positive response to generate positive energy between us, but when she didn’t return my “I love you.’ I felt more lost than ever, as I tried desperately to silence my mind. A few hours later I texted her again to see how she was.

ANYA: “Good! Just getting caught up! I miss u!”

ME: “I miss u too! I got spoiled on my vacation week seeing you so much!”

ANYA: “I know! Oh well you’ll just have to take more time off!”

I started to pick up the possibility Anya wanted our relationship to morph from one of love to just one of lust—devoid of all emotions and feelings. I felt I had to morph into a dishonest person to save myself from a devastating heartbreak. That I even had to hide my true feelings from her—or lose her. If she truly felt all I did, I didn’t understand how she summoned the strength, especially if she ever had any intentions of leaving her marriage. The truth was, I shouldn’t have had to take a vacation to see her, if she could go to Cabo with the girls. I couldn’t even feel she didn’t love me because this may have been a way for her to get away so she could feel close to me, even if we were in two different places. What was her incentive to ever leave her marriage though if Jackson allowed her this much freedom to act as if she were single? It felt as if she knew all along that she would never leave her marriage. That she loved me so well only so I’d have a hard time hating her if she never left, something it seemed she planned to do anyway. Nowadays, it seemed like she didn’t care if she ever heard from me as I had to text her just to stay in touch. When I text her that evening after I got off of work, her response surprised me.

ANYA: “Going to the Lakers game. U?”

Not just “a Lakers game” but a Lakers playoff game. Game one of the series against the Houston Rockets. Would she have told me this if I hadn’t texted her? This was a perfect example of how she claimed to be an honest person, but she was only honest when prompted to be. I could only look at this with positive energy though because the truth was this—Anya didn’t care for basketball until she met me and after she knew my mother was a Lakers fan. Although I felt slighted because I don’t know who she attended the game with, I didn’t understand why she didn’t tell me about it. Was it because she didn’t text me the entire day but had time to plan a Lakers game?

ME: “Very cool! Have a great time! Why didn’t you tell me?”

ANYA: “Yea I told u I’m afraid to tell u things sometimes.”

Was it better to let me wonder? I didn’t want her to have to walk on eggshells around me, but she caused that as much as I did. Then again, I didn’t tell her I was going to Sonomas the other night and when she texted me is when she found out I did. I had to be fair to her too. I had to remember sporting events had a spontaneous nature at times.

ME: “You can tell me. I don’t want you to feel that way. I’m sorry.”

ANYA: “Glad I can tell u.”

I had no one else to blame but myself for the way she felt. It was hard though, to be at home by myself, unable to move because I missed her so damn much, while her life didn’t miss a beat. It wasn’t that I wanted her to feel as paralyzed as I did, but her love crippled me, and that wasn’t right if mothers made sacrifices for their kids. If my heart had to be sacrificed, I wanted her kids by her side twenty-four seven.

I watched the game on TV with the hope I’d see her, but had no idea where she was seated. At halftime, I sent her a text.

ME: “I hope you’re having a good time! Looks like it’s going to go down to the wire.”

ANYA: “Thank you! Xo!”

I didn’t know who she was with and since I didn’t expect to hear back from her, I decided not to send her another text. He text read “I’m scared of you, now.” so what would be her incentive to text me back? All I could do was imagine all the people she allowed to be around her with no fear, while she left me with a ton of feelings for her just to be left alone with them.

ANYA: “I so miss u.”

After I read her text, I didn’t know what inspired her change of heart, but it lifted me up from the dead as my heart shook off its own ashes.

ME: “I miss you very much.”

Her texts rejuvenated me, as the Anya I knew and loved rose from the dead. I then put my trust back in her love once again, and abandoned my negative thoughts in the graveyard of mistrust. She even sent me a text as she left the game—one the Lakers lost.

ANYA: “I love u. Just leaving Staples.”

I didn’t know what brought on her change in attitude. Did she see couples kissing on cam or watched couples together at the game? Was it because I didn’t give her any pressure? Or did she want to go to Lakers playoff game to feel close to me? Or maybe she had too many drinks at the game? Whatever it was, I needed any positive energy from her to find me, and it did.

Although I felt lost, my love for Anya never wavered—I still had my eye on the prize. I wanted to trust in her love and believe her. I wanted to be wrong about my negative feelings, and give her the chance to prove me wrong on all of them. I also knew I had to repair what remained of our relationship, although the situation made it difficult to do so. I felt if I didn’t though, if I didn’t fight back the negative energy, I’d let her down, and fail her even when the reality was that she failed me. I didn’t want to believe she failed me, but I also couldn’t ignore the possibility. Although her insensitive comments from her last visit rattled me deeply, I refused to be pulled off life support as I tried to look inwards more than outward—to see where I failed her more than she failed me. My heart wasn’t willing to accept that Anya loved herself more than she loved me, especially not after the hope she gave me at the game. I imagined how many events we could accompany each other to, beyond sporting events, as I would want to do things that made her happy regardless of what they were. I knew the kind of love we had for each other was one that made concessions to each other, that crossed the bridge of compromise, because the common interests were there because of the love we had for each other.

The next morning, I texted her early after her sweet heartfelt texts at the game filled me with so much adrenaline, I couldn’t sleep anyway.

ME: “You got to see a great game last night! Did you have fun?”

ANYA: “I know!!! Yes, I did thx! I thought about how fun it would be to go see a game with you!”

Anya’s consideration left me with such a huge smile on my face I could’ve tore a muscle in my jaw. This did leave one concern however…would she want to see a game with me as her husband or boyfriend, or just as a friend? After what she told me the other day. I didn’t know the answer to a question I thought I always knew the answer to.

I texted her later in the day to see how her day was going on Cinco De Mayo.

ANYA: “Was just thinking about u! Just picked up my book club book for Cabo! No not ready yet. Wish u were going!”

The Anya that greeted me on this day, was the Anya I met almost two years ago. the one that bleed herself into me that I trusted my life with like she trusted me with hers. The Anya that couldn’t help it because she loved me and had every intention to be with me. Not the Anya who I felt at times misled me only, so she could feel love again. I only wanted to believe in the former so badly, I took here every word at face value since the value of her love equated to the same as the air around me. I started to imagine her hand in mine as we read books from our own club we formed, as we tanned together on a Cabo beach. One of many beaches I wished I could go with her to. As her beauty shone through as bright as the Cabo sun, I felt secure enough to try and make her feel safe with her words and the things she did so we could live the Cabo dream together one day.

ME: “I wish I was going with you too, babe. You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I would like for you to try to feel like you don’t have to walk on eggshells with me anymore. I’ll look at things more positively. I felt really bad last night that you felt you couldn’t tell me that you were going to the Lakers game. It’s hard to explain how I feel sometimes. I just miss you so much it gets the best of me sometimes, but I want you to be you because I love that part of you too. Please just know wherever you go I just wish I could be there with you. It doesn’t matter where.”

ANYA: “I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”

I didn’t want Anya to feel she hurt me whenever she went somewhere with her friends or the things she had to do for or with her kids, even in a family setting. I denied her a good time in Mammoth with the girls, and I didn’t want to repeat the same mistake when she went to Cabo. I wanted her to do what she wanted without worrying how I feel. If she denied Jackson and didn’t go out of her way for him, something that would show him she still loved him unless it benefited the kids, then I could stomach the things she did. She had to show me that she understood, I wouldn’t be in her life if she told me she still loved her husband, and that my life has been affected by that. When she chose to fall in love with me, all because I trusted her to do the right thing if she did, she also chose me, not him.

ME: “Going to a Lakers game shouldn’t hurt me. I let it hurt me and it’s not your fault. I’m going to look at things in a different light and I’ll be a stronger man for it. Of course, it’s your decision but I don’t want you to feel you have to tread lightly.”

In essence, my motivation was to subconsciously close the gap between us so chose an honest path with me. She couldn’t be afraid to hurt me because I expected honesty from her even if it caused me to never trust love again. The last thing I wanted her to do was love me like she did her kids. I didn’t need to be put in a bubble and shielded from the world. I needed to know so I could make good decisions based on facts and not feelings. I also didn’t want her to think suicide was an option for me. If she thought I’d kill myself over us, she would never tell me the truth about anything, even the things I needed to know. If I ever took my life, it wouldn’t be her fault at all and only my destiny, designed by the universe. She could only be a player, and not the cause. She claimed she loved me as much as I loved her, and I trusted she not only knew what love was but it’s value to me—as I gave up my best years in life for her.

I checked in with her again when I got home from work, to see if she was all packed for the trip.

ANYA: “I’m so not ready!”

ME: “Wish I could help you, babe!”

ANYA: “Thank you!”

Since Anya never initiated a text on this day, I felt I prevented her from packing by texting her so I stopped. I guess I feared if I didn’t text her, I’d never hear from her. I did find it odd that Jackson let her go to Cabo with her friends, if he knew she was going. I knew it was Mother’s Day weekend so maybe this was his gift to her? Maybe he planned to be with her there for a day or two with the kids? Or maybe the time share was theirs and this is what she told me? How come he wouldn’t be concerned I could be there with her? He let her go to both Mammoth and now Cabo without any pushback at all? Wouldn’t she be more open to the twenty questions she didn’t want after a trip to Cabo with the girls? Did she threaten divorce if he didn’t let her? How could he trust her if he knew she has a relationship with me? She was going to a known party town and left the kids with him yet he didn’t say a single word about it? The only other logical conclusion I could come up with was he allowed her to go because it was Mother’s Day weekend. It’s possible Anya did the same thing for him on Father’s Day and maybe they had an agreement to take the kids off of each other’s hands those days. It’s the only thing I could come up with that made any sense considering Jackson’s mistrust of her.

When the morning arrived, I wanted to make sure she knew I loved her before she left.

ME: “Have a safe flight babe! I love you!”

ANYA: “Thank you! On my way! I love you!”

I figured she had an early flight out, and I didn’t want to bug her as she ran around and communicated back and forth to her kids if she needed to. At five minutes past nine that morning, Anya sent me a text.

ANYA: “Waiting to board.”

ME: “Oh really? I thought you’d be half way to Cabo by now! Is your flight delayed?”

ANYA: “No not delayed. Just had to make several stops to pick up all the girls. Have to admit the girls made me drink Bloody Mary’s! So much pressure!”

ME: “That’s the perfect way to start a trip to Cabo! Wish I could be boarding the plane with you!”

ANYA: “Me too!”

I let a half hour pass before I texted her again to send her off much closer to her actual take-off time.

ME: “Have you boarded yet? If so, have a nice flight. Please let me know when you get there. I love you.”

ANYA: “Um yea just boarded and almost missed last boarding! Thank you! Will let u know when we land. Love u!”

A few hours later, she made good on her promise.

ANYA: “Made it! On our way to hotel!”

When I got word she landed, I felt better knowing she was now on the ground. A couple of hours later, she texted me again.

ANYA: “Sorry to say but hanging by the pool now drinking Coronas and eating chips! Going to gain some lbs on this trip!”

ME: “Ahhhh! I feel like one of Pavlov’s dogs, my mouth is watering! Sounds so relaxing! You deserve it! Enjoy yourself!”

ANYA: “Wish you were here! So beautiful!”

ME: “I’m sorry, no offense to the beauty you’re surrounded by, but you can’t fool me. No place on this earth can be more beautiful than you in my eyes. Wish I was there too! Miss u!”

ANYA: “Awww I miss u!”

There’s the “awww” that I longed for, as I could tell whenever she was away from home, I received the Anya I fell in love with. I couldn’t blame her for not being in the mood for romance when her kids were around but I missed this Anya, my Anya, and I needed her. Here texts reminded me of the ones she sent me at the same time last year, when she went to Laguna Beach. It brought me back to the night at Mozambique when I fell in love with her all over again the minute, I saw her. That’s how I felt each time I saw Anya; I just fell in love again each and every time. There were a couple of differences between Cabo and Laguna Beach, we were much farther away from each other, and I wasn’t invited.

When I got home from work I sulked on my couch as the reality of my loneliness punched me square in the gut as I felt an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach. It’s the loneliness I couldn’t control as I wondered if this trip would be anything like Mammoth—when she she was surrounded by men. It also made me fearful that Carolyn’s beau may have been there with them, and that’s maybe why Anya kept in touch with me. My low self-esteem was vicious to both Anya and myself sometimes, an entity I hoped Anya’s love had obliterated by now. I felt the chance of me not hearing from her, were much greater now than when she was in Mammoth because of the way I left her unsettled since her trip to Mammoth. It wouldn’t have surprised me if I didn’t hear from her at all, but when I noticed the red light pulsated on my phone, Anya had plans to prove me wrong.

ANYA: “I miss u.”

When I read her text, I began to tear up as it just meant everything to me to hear from her. To know I was on her mind as much as she was on mine. I felt much like King Kong must have felt when Ann was back in his sight, at total peace with the world.

ME: “I miss u too.”

After this text, Anya sent me short texts to convey not only where she was, but also how she felt—even though she was out on the town with the girls.

ANYA: “Ghost town!”

ANYA: “Soul mates”

ANYA: “Beat! Going to bed! Nite nite!”

After her texts, For the second night in a row, I went from being shipwrecked to being rescued as I fell asleep comfortable on my couch into a world of sweet dreams until Thursday morning arrived. The new day did bring with it some trepidation however as I feared how my heart would handle her silence while she danced the night away in Cabo with her friends. The next morning, I texted her to get an idea of what to expect.

ANYA: “U can walk everywhere. We’re going to a fun place I’ve been to b4 called “The Office” for food now! Have a good day! I love you!”

The day brought with it at least enough hope to get me through the morning. As much as it hurt, I couldn’t be with her. I was happy Anya got to go out and enjoy her life. I think it was something Jackson gave her, probably an agreement they made after he cheated on her, to keep the peace between them. I’m sure he gave her this too because it was difficult to spend time with her because of his business and political aspirations. It was done to make sure she remained engaged and happy in the marriage, probably for the sake of the kids. I don’t think he took over duties to watch them while she was away, but probably hired a nanny to drive them to and from their activities. She deserved the time away from the kids and her usual duties, and if I were her husband, I’d let her do the same even though I’d never cheat on her. I’d want her to be happy too and I’d want to show her I trusted her. When she said she didn’t want to share custody though, I didn’t see much of a difference between that and trips to Mammoth and Cabo. I’m sure she had the same amount of control of her kids if she went on these trips with shared custody. Throw in the neighbor parties, the time the kids spent with their friends and the nanny, and any other things she did without the kids in tow, and it had to come close to fifty percent custody anyway. I think that’s why her words hurt me so much, beyond her lack of full disclosure when we reconnected.

As the day lingered on at a sloth-like pace, Anya texted me out of the blue.

ANYA: “hola!”

ME: “hola! Como esta, hermosa?”

ANYA: “Good! It’s soooooo hot here! Did u get the email?”

ME: “I didn’t know you sent me one. Let me check!”

ANYA: “Carolyn did from her fone. She sent it to your personal email.”

I got up to close my office door and then seconds later I was signed in to my regular email to track down what Carolyn sent. As I went through my inbox, it was nice to know it seemed Carolyn still held me in high regard. When I didn’t see it in my inbox, I began to panic. I then remembered Carolyn had never emailed me before and since Outlook didn’t recognize it as coming from a safe source, it more than likely got sent to my spam email inbox. Sure enough, there it was as it contained an attachment within. I opened the email and then waited a minute for the attachment to upload, a jpeg file. When the file opened on my screen, a could do nothing but smile as it revealed a picture of Anya in the water, from a distance, in her bikini. The sun shone directly upon her wet and tan body. As I stared at her as if she stood before me, I recalled the same magic I felt when we were on “our beach” as her beauty never betrayed her in my eyes. I wanted to superimpose a picture of me next to her, but all I could do was imagine it as I lacked photoshopping skills. I then noticed the attachment contained three pictures. Another picture of the same pose was attached but at a closer distance, and then another picture with her and the girls in their bikinis in a more intimate up close. I loved Anya’s fashion sense as much as I loved anything else about her as it even showed in the bikini she wore with its gold rings on her blue bikini top. I got so caught up in her beauty, I didn’t even care who took the shot of the group as I’m sure they attracted the attention of guys since they all looked great. Her skin looked so golden and soft, I imagined it upon on mine and got aroused.

Anya was by far the beauty of the entire group of attractive women. I admired all of their tenacious spirits—their “work hard play hard” approach and how they embraced life even in marriages that left them feeling empty and unappreciated. To think they deserved more from their marriages than they received, my heart broke for them, but none no more than Anya. I could’ve made Anya feel like a weekend away from home was never necessary the way I would appreciate her if was given a tenth of the chance to love her that Jackson got. They may have met and married men who were unfaithful to them—so much so it led them to believe it was the norm in our society, but Anya showed me why love, respect and trust were imperative in a marriage. After I wiped the tears away from the happiness her pics gave me, I texted Anya to let her know I received them.

ME: “Look like you’re all having a good time! You even have a sense for fashion when you wear a bikini! You look absolutely spectacular babe. It’s hard to believe I wish I could be there with you more than I do. I miss you. I love you. Thank Carolyn for the beautiful pictures for me.”

ANYA: “Thank you babe. I miss you. I love you.”

After all we’ve been through, and all she told me just a couple of days ago, it felt better to know she felt comfortable enough to send me a bikini pic—a sign of trust. The pictures suggested that she wanted to give me a chance to repair what was chipped away. When my workday ended and the moon governed the sky, I texted Anya to see how she was doing. I couldn’t wait to save the JPEG file to my desktop computer at home so I could view it privately. Although I didn’t hear back from her after she sent the pics, I at least had her pics to help with the heart ache I felt. Since she was in a foreign country, one that was hostile to Americans at times, I hoped to touch bases to know she was okay. The thought of losing her and being unable to hold, feel or talk to her again, made me nauseous. After four hours passed, I worried to the point I couldn’t even eat. If this was even slightly what my mother felt over the years with me and my disregard to her worries, it was major payback. Just before ten p.m. though, the universe decided to let me off the hook.

ANYA: “Hi! We had dinner up in the hills called Frida’s and didn’t have any reception! Just came out of the woods and in civilization! How r u?”

When Anya told me she just came out of the “woods”, I couldn’t tell if she was in Forks, Washington or Cabo San Lucas. I couldn’t help but feel like Edward did in the “Twilight” series—was my Bella with Jacob? Once she told me she was at “Frida’s” however, she went to a level of detail she didn’t need to as it seemed I worried for nothing.

ME: “Oh babe! I’m just happy you’re alive! I thought something might have happened to you! I thought you were still at “The Office”. How was Frida’s?”

ANYA: “Ha ha! Alive! Totally safe! I promise! Just for breakfast. Frida’s was sooo romantic! Of course I missed u! They had a Mexican singer and she sang Toda Una Vida.”

ME: “OMG babe. I wish I could have been with you. I love that song for obvious reasons. That sounds so romantic I’m dying. I miss you so much right now!”

ANYA: “I sooooooooooo miss u!”

ME: “You know I’m always with you in some shape or form. I love you.”

ANYA: “I love you!”

Her love for me was all I needed to know. If I had felt this from her in Mammoth, I would’ve never given her any grief. Even if guys were around them on this night, it wouldn’t have mattered to me because I knew “Toda Una Vida” belonged to us, and that was nothing no one could take from me. If she associated me with that song, then I knew no man could ever get close enough to her for me to be sad or worry about anything. It was not just a song to us, but a moment that deeply connected us. Thanks to Cabo, Frida’s, and even Carolyn, I had my romantic partner back, my beautiful Anya—away from the chaos and pull from home. Her texts made me wish she could go on trips with the girls every weekend.

I thought of all the trips she took with the girls over the course of our relationship. Laguna Beach, Palm Springs, Mammoth Mountain, and now Cabo San Lucas, and how each of those trips she stayed connected to me, and even looked forward to them so she could. I didn’t want to ruin her Cabo trip with a heart that ached for her, as she fed me the love I sought to feel from her. Before she responded to my text, I sat in an empty space on my couch with the television on, but with nobody truly home. I couldn’t tell you a single thing that came on the stationary screen as my heart ached in wonder and despair. That all changed in an instant the second she revealed she missed me, and how the whole time I ruled her romantic thoughts. It also showed how vulnerable I had become and how I was at the mercy of her mind, heart and fingertips. If that didn’t scare a human being or render them helpless, nothing ever could.

For a singer at Frida’s, a venue that served minimal portions, to sing a song of such romantic proportions had to come from a higher power. A song that only brought us closer and elicited emotions because of the sheer value of what that particular song meant to both of us. A song that brought her back to the time when our love knew no bounds at a time I desperately needed the universe’s intervention. Through Anya, the universe whispered in my ear, “let me handle this” as it seemed to say, “if you’re not going to believe, let me touch her heart in another spot for you to see if I can help you with that”. When she shared things like this with me, it made me regret my thoughts when I became frustrated and would question her love for me. At times, I could hear my father calling me “a failure” and if I failed here, I would never have a leg to stand on. At times like this, I couldn’t help believing in our love as much as Anya couldn’t help the choice to be in a relationship with me regardless of the kids, and the sacrifices mothers make. I wanted Frida’s someday with her. I wanted to have a minimal dinner and dance with her while the entertainer sang “Toda Una Vida”. Those specific dreams would make it even tougher on me—to know I had this great love with someone yet I couldn’t fully embrace all I felt—that I couldn’t love her the way I wanted to, and the way I deserved to. This was the kind love I always believed in since I was a kid. A love I envisioned for myself and waited for as many nights I spent with a pillow in my arms instead of the one I waited for. I waited my entire life for what I had with Anya, yet here it was beyond my grasp. How could this be?

Although my love for Anya did not chip away, my belief in love did. It made me at times want to disrupt her marriage in any way I possibly could. To make it too hard for Jackson to bear that he had no choice but to let her go. I didn’t want to hurt her though, and if I confronted Jackson, it would do just that. I had to convince myself she was not in love with him, and after all we’ve shared, she would never love him again. How could she possibly love him after all the abuse? Did his money make everything right in her eyes? That the things he bought the kids was enough to resolve the damage he did to her? Even after she chose to encourage me to fall deeply in love with her? I trusted, she couldn’t love Jackson again because she knew what existed out there for her now, a love beyond forever far out of the reach of Jackson’s control of her. How could she ever love a man who loved her over one who only loved himself? He may have her in the physical sense, but to women, it’s not what mattered the most. If she heard the song “Toda Una Vida” anywhere, even with Jackson on a dinner date, she would always and only think of me. This is the monster Jackson could not defeat, It’s the thing he couldn’t control and would never know of—her thoughts.

Anya continued to text me on this night as it reminded me of the time she spent in Palm Springs, and I loved every second.

ME: “Hey, when are you going to send me more pics? I love you.”

ANYA: “I love u! If I keep up the chips and salsa and beer no pics!”

ME: “Please don’t think that way. You always look beautiful! I love you, you know.”

ANYA: “K when we get back to the time share I’ll have Carolyn send it again cuz she took them on her fone.”

ME: “Thank you babe! Have fun! Be careful!”

I tried to avoid a repeat of what I did in Mammoth and as I didn’t want to take her away from the girls. I really didn’t think I’d hear back from her as I prepared myself for that possibility and decided to write in my journal to feel close to her. Little did I know, I wouldn’t need to.

ANYA: “Only if u could see what is going on at Cabo Wabo! There’s a “soon to be bride” just tearing it up!”

ME: “I hope you girls are out there showing her how it’s done! Btw, that’s Sammy Haggar’s bar! You should have a Waborita!”

ANYA: “Ahhhhh! How do you know about Waborita?”

ME: “I had one when I was at Cabo Wabo years ago!”

After Anya’s text, I imagined I was with her next to me, and how I would nudge myself into her and tilt my head as to motion for us to go outside. We’d both run outside together away from the crowd. Once we found a secluded spot, mesmerized how the moonlight reflected off of her perfect bare shoulders, and with her eyes in mine, our lips would meet. I then imagined moving my hands along her waist, to bring her body into mine as we danced to whatever tune played at Cabo Wabo. Whenever I thought of Anya in these places without me, I tried to be there with her, especially when her texts told me she wished I could be there with her.

That was the last text I received from Anya that night, but it was already midnight. I’m sure her friends gave her a hard time about texting me, but we talked more than I expected to. I just hoped the bikini pics weren’t sent to pacify me so I wouldn’t text her, or if they thought I was hurting without her. If they did, it was probably my fault, but I truly loved her unlike any of the other guys they hung out with—especially her own husband. No one wanted to be treated like a fool, as I’m sure they felt the same way. I needed to know what I had was real, and that the bikini pics were sent because she missed me as much as I missed her. It bummed me out when she didn’t wish me a goodnight, as it led me to go to bed in wonder, but I believed Anya’s heart was with me regardless of if she was surrounded by guys. The thing that sucked about that for me was I didn’t think I ever had to compete with more guys than the one I knew going in. I just wanted to be there with her, and it naturally broke my heart that other men, she didn’t even know, could hang with her and the girls. That the man who fought every day for her, the one who put the work in, the one who went to bat for her, couldn’t be or wouldn’t be allowed—that he would be the one punished when she returned home to reality.

I knew the next day would present a bigger challenge for me—a Friday night in Cabo. The two week nights would be tame compared to what the weekend possibly had in store for my heart. Especially when she couldn’t even say “goodnight” to me when she was at Cabo Wabo. Anya and her friends knew a lot of people, and for I knew, a history with them may exist that she never disclosed. I hoped the bikini pics were in no way as bait—to keep me in line so I would leave her alone during her trip. I felt bad about how much I took her away when she was at Mammoth, and I refused to do that to her again. The Friday started off well as she text me first thing that morning.

ANYA: “Good morning! Sorry about last night. Came home and crashed.”

To say I didn’t wonder if she was being truthful, would be a false statement, but I decided not to question her. For all I knew she had a disagreement with the partying habits of the girls like she did in Mammoth, and it slipped her mind. If it were me though, especially if I was tipsy and I wished that person was here with me, nothing would’ve stopped me from contacting her before or as I fell asleep. I don’t think Anya left with guys, but I think they were hanging with either guys they met there, or guys they knew especially when they were out in their bikinis or scantily clad clothing that showed their sun kissed skin. As much as it made me wonder, I refused to make her trip about me. If she wanted to spend time with me, and if she truly missed me, she would. I couldn’t sit here and be mad at her. If her actions weren’t consistent with someone who truly loved and missed me, I needed to make a choice for myself, and seek the truth from her, and not whine about it. Before I responded to her text, I decided to pull her picture up on my desktop computer—the one she took with the girls in a group bikini pic. As I got lost in her beauty, I then noticed a necklace on her neck. I couldn’t tell, but it looked like she wore my thingie on the trip. I didn’t expect her to wear jewelry at all since I figured she might lose it on the beach, so I never looked for it on her when I saw the pics the first time. I latched on to any kind of hope I could to get me through the weekend nights I’m sure would be murder on my heart—the likely reason the pics were sent to me.

ME: “Good morning! I understand! Looks like you have the thingie on in your group bikini pic?”

ANYA: “Thank u. No, an old one sorry. Didn’t want Shana to ask.”

After Anya confirmed it wasn’t my necklace, I zoomed in and I felt bad I didn’t do that before I asked her.

ME: “I’m sorry. I didn’t zoom in before I asked you. I hope you know I want you to have a great time. I don’t want you to feel obligated to text me unless you want to.”

ANYA: “I know babe. Thank u! I love you.”

ME: “I love you too.”

I didn’t want to be the emotional burden I was when she went to Mammoth with the girls. I didn’t want to give grief when she tried to escape it from home. I had to put my life in the Anya’s hands and let her run with it. The Universe was in control now, it always had been and I was powerless against it. I then realized what she told me the other day, about not wanting to jump into a relationship right away with me if she left Jackson, was born from this trip to Cabo. If she truly went there with the girls, this was really the first time she was free to flirt with guys with no one really to keep tabs on her. I’ve seen these girls in action to know, they loved attention and if they could flaunt the bodies they worked so hard during the week to maintain, they would have a lot of it on this trip. Before Cabo, Anya wanted to wear my ring, but now she suddenly wanted to wait before she would be in a relationship with me, another detraction from our agreement when we first met—when she told me she would only leave if someone was there for her. Maybe this was wrong, but I felt slighted a bit she didn’t wear my necklace. Did she only wear it around me and never with her when she went to other places? It’s fair to say, she wouldn’t want to lose it, and that’s why she wore an old one. Then again, maybe this necklace was from a past lover she planned to see while in Cabo? I hated to think this way, but I had to prepare myself for her silence.

She hadn’t called me “babe” in a while and she said “I love you” but these sentiments and words began to carry a different meaning for me—said only to prepare me for the time it would surely feel she didn’t love me this weekend. Was I really crazy for questioning her love and for how badly she missed me? She couldn’t be mad at me for not texting her because it seemed whenever I did, she was too busy to respond. It brought me back to the Memorial Day weekend last year, when she asked me to share a fantasy and she disappeared on me after I did. She told me this was true love and I believed her, but it seemed I was losing trust in her and she lost her respect for me. Without those essential ingredients, it couldn’t be but a fleeting feeling for her now.

As the clock struck nine on this Friday night, and I hadn’t heard from her, her silence hit me right in the heart. I found it hypocritical how these mothers, who made great sacrifices for their kids, let completely loose whenever they left their kids, but I also found it sad at the same time. Sad to know their home lives were miserable and unhappy enough for them to be relegated to act like single women with wedding bands on. I loved Carolyn and Debbie, and they also deserved to live their lives as happily as Anya did. This was not sacrificing your happiness for the sake of their kids because they partied like rock stars when they were away from them. If I never realized why they were still with their husbands, it seemed this was the reason why. They were all wonderful mothers, but living it up in Cabo didn’t seem like much of a sacrifice for the kids. Their call to virtue disguised behind the value of money and power. I couldn’t blame them for their actions because of the way their husbands had left them to feel. The behavior of their husbands justified the trip in their minds, but it all seemed too fake to feel right at all. Their marriages and their way of life were all lies, and they lied to everyone around them—nobody more than themselves. They were so adept at it, they believed their own lies, even the ones they made to themselves. If they felt the need to party, flirt as if they were single and drink until three-thirty in the morning all because they were away from their kids, they had no reason to be married for their sake—there were no real sacrifices being made here. They were either having a major midlife crisis or were extremely unhappy, or both.

If Anya truly believed in us, and she really loved and missed me the way I loved and missed her, her silence made no sense at all. Was this something that awaited me if we were together? I always believed she would run to me if she ever left Jackson, now I believed she would only run away if she was too afraid to text me when she had the freedom to do so. Her silence seemed to sadly prove that the pics were sent because of what she planned to do on the weekend. All done to pacify me so I would be less inclined to pressure her, as she employed the strategy of politicians, to deal with my heart—the same strategy her husband probably used when he ran around on her while she was pregnant. I guess since I pressured her with the way I felt, I deserved the same treatment.

This life style spoke of a great unhappiness in all of their marriages. A four-day weekend bender in Cabo didn’t seem like much of a sacrifice to me. I didn’t want to be judgmental, but my heart was deeply vested in one of them. If Anya could stay in her marriage because Jackson allowed her to be single since he was busy with his career aspirations; she seemed more than content with the arrangement and never needed me in her life to begin with. At times like these, it seemed like when she met me, she put on an act to get me, and then left it up to me to leave her once she revealed her true self and feelings. As she went completely silent on me, I only lost more trust and faith in her love and true intentions seventeen months ago.

I refused to give her any grief and pressure, but I also refused to deny how her silence left me to feel. I hoped I was wrong about all of this, but my gut told me there was some truth to it. My phone stayed silent and motionless until 10:39 that Friday evening.

ANYA: “Have a goodnight! Going to bed soon!”

ME: “Goodnight!”

I responded to her quickly and followed my good night with an exclamation point afraid to interrupt her time with the girls. Sure, I hurt and had my doubts, but I didn’t want to burden her like I did when she was in Mammoth. At this point, I put myself through this misery but caring too much about her happiness and wanting to believe in her love for me. Her silence told me “what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him”, and that hurt me more than the silence alone did. It seemed to be that Anya was more like Jackson; two people who had no idea what love was or meant. The problem was, I trusted after all Anya went through with Jackson, that she at least knew that much.

I wondered how come she wasn’t affected at all by the things I did? If I went to Cabo with friends, and never texted her, would she have even cared? The difference was this, my love made her feel secure than her love for me did. By loving her deeply, I lost the part of her I wanted. I only received a part of Anya’s heart now, the piece of her heart that only cared to pacify me more than it cared to love me. I couldn’t believe after the six years it took me to get to a position of strength mentally to get past Denise, I found myself in an even worse place than I’ve ever been—this ride to heaven only led straight to hell.

At this moment, I lost a piece of her I may never recover. Her silence was so piercing, she was no longer the woman I fell in love with. She used me so she could build herself up emotionally, to repair her ego while she left me hanging out to dry. Before she met me, she was living a false life for fifteen years. I found out this weekend however, unlike she told me when she dropped her hook into my heart, it was the life she always preferred. If she felt unhappy or miserable, she could just grab a time share in some resort town or a few drinks with friends to get past it. She didn’t need me at all, and what hurt the most, as long as she had Jackson’s friends and deep pockets, she never did. All she wanted and needed was far outside of me, otherwise her silence would’ve never existed.

If I was going to lose her—what did I have to lose? I didn’t appreciate what I perceived to be a complete disregard for my feelings. The way she seemed to serve herself when she pacified me with pics she didn’t even take with her phone, just so she wouldn’t have to deal with my feelings for her, something love was all about. She banked on politics to get what she wanted in life, a life skill she no doubt learned from Jackson. I then thought of her “living day to day waiting for it to end so I can sleep it off” text and I clung to it to help fight back the multitude of bad feelings that ate me up alive. I just couldn’t understand how she could’ve shared so much with me, yet continue to live her life as if we hadn’t spent one moment together—as if it meant nothing at all. She could live off her memories of love, more than love itself and that didn’t feel like love at all. She didn’t miss me, but rather having the best of both worlds. I wanted what was right, and I had to have consistency from her if I were to reclaim any trust at all in her love after Cabo. Her silence seemed to prove how much of a fool I’ve been. I now had to do whatever it took to learn the truth about her life, and about her love for me, even if led me to an old unforgiving bridge suspended over a cold shallow harbor.