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Well, I should not say we because it is mostly Noah. He is shining tonight, and I say nothing even as it sits poorly with me that this is by far the most I have been ignored at one of these things. I don’t even know why he wants me here.
“Excuse me,” I finally say, the champagne I had going right through me. Noah doesn’t even look at me as I disengage my arm from him and walk the two yards to the hallway that leads down to the ladies room. I don’t even know if he or the couple he is talking to notices I am not there. But at least it wasn’t like Senator Rinson, staring at my cleavage the whole time my husband was talking with him.
I take my time in the bathroom, regretting the fact that I have not taken any of the food offerings. I am usually not so easily affected by the champagne, but this must be a strong one.
But I am instantly sober as I come out of the bathroom and almost around the corner but hang back, hearing my husband’s voice loud and clear, a giggle coming from a girl I believed to be my friend; Brittany is her name. She has been Noah’s assistant for a while now, and she has always seemed professional even if she looks a bit like a blonde bimbo.
“C’mon, she will never know. I’ll put you up in this nice hotel just next door to ours, and we’ll have some fun. I can’t stand the thought of going to this beautiful island without you,” he whispers, causing her to giggle and sigh.
Is this some fucking joke? He is going to pay for her to go on the trip with us so he can sneak off with her?
My breathing comes in and out in a panic, and I go back into the bathroom, locking the door and not caring who might come and bang on it, begging to be let inside to relieve themselves.
My hands land on either side of the sink, trying to hold myself up when I feel like I might collapse. I look up in the mirror, and I see for the first time that I am a stranger. My hair is different, my boobs, my ass, my tummy, my lips. It all looks like it belongs to someone else. And then I remember it is because it does. It belongs to the man that purchased these parts for me. It is a reflection of what he thinks the perfect woman looks like. Only, this still isn’t good enough.
And now he dares to ruin everything we have right here on our one-year anniversary.
In anger, I yank at the pearls on my neck that mark me as this man’s wife and scatter the expensive pieces all over the floor. They mean nothing, are worth nothing now.
But what do I do?
I count the minutes and wait until I think he must be gone; he can’t see me leave. But I am determined that is exactly what I am going to do. I will not stay one more minute under his thumb allowing myself to be tucked and plumped and changed for his whims when he isn’t even being faithful to me.
I know I will grieve for this later, crying my eyes out into some pint of ice cream like the pathetic girl I am, but right now, I am angry and using it to do what I should have done long ago.
I walk out. I am quick with my head down and take the closest exit before flagging down the Valet and giving him some bullshit on a date gone bad and that I need a cab.
My eyes dart all around as I stay to the side of the building in shadow, hoping that Noah won’t come looking for me and no one who knows who I am will see me.
But of course, they don’t. I am as invisible as I always was in this life.
So, I get in the cab and make my next move.
The first one of my new life.
