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Chapter 3
Bethany
As I climb out of the cab and step out in front of a sleek black building that looks like nothing much from the outside, I take a moment to appreciate being back in Miami. It’s strange, the way it instantly feels like home, like an old routine that I never stopped following. The humidity and the heat feel so much better than the cool breeze coming out of the mountains and through the city in Pittsburgh that always makes me feel chilled even in the summer. Though, no one who is a native ever seems to notice it.
When I woke up the next morning alone in that hotel room, I knew that I couldn’t stay there for so many reasons. If I wanted to see what life was like without Noah, it would take me leaving the state. He would find me eventually and come to convince me to come on that trip with him. He was a sweet talker, always had been. I just never realized any of it was a lie until I overheard him with Brittany like that.
So, I turned my phone off and called Natasha using the phone in my room, letting her know I was coming to visit for a while. Then, I had the concierge book both my flight and my hotel room once I got into Miami. I didn’t want to impose myself upon someone with two young children who I had not seen in two years, even if it was a guest house. And I didn’t know how long I would stay; a weekend? A week? A month? Forever?
There are so many unanswered questions, and I let them wash over me before putting them to the side and waltzing into one of the many restaurants Anton, Natasha’s husband, owns in the area. Natasha had thought it was a good place to meet where it was neutral ground and I could see the kids. We have a private room, since Anton owns the place, where we can take our time catching up.
I think she expects I might scream or cry. I used to be such a crier, but right now it hasn’t hit me like that yet. I am confused, hurt, and angry, but I am not so distraught that I need to shed a bunch of tears over a man who pretended with me for . . . I don’t know how long. He must have meant it all at some point, right?
Maybe one day I would even be brave enough to ask him that to his face, but for now, I just need distance.
I walk in and give my name to the hostess, noticing how the outside of the place belies the opulence inside. Though, I think that is the exact point. Miami is all about the glitz and the glam, especially with restaurants and hotels. Anton intrigues people by making something different so that it stands out like a sore thumb only to shock everyone once they come inside like they are entering a new world. Natasha is married to a brilliant businessman if nothing else.
I am promptly led off to the side, into a private dining room that is about the size of my living room back in Pittsburgh. I don’t think Natasha notices me as I come in because she is placing Simion down on the floor for belly time on his blanket while I stand against the doorframe and just watch.
The last time I saw Natasha she was glowing from having her daughter and being so in love with her new husband, but she still seemed like the same Tasha I had known for years. She hadn’t morphed into mother mode yet.
But now I can see it. She has traded her heels for flats and her fancy lace for a long and colorful maxi dress that is easy to move in. her bust is something to be jealous of, probably from the breastfeeding, and while she looks a little frazzled trying to balance two kids, it is a happy state of stress rather than a bad one. I think it just might be something I want some day. Not now, considering I have a lot of shit to figure out about myself before I even dive into a relationship again. But one day, maybe our kids could play together.
"Oh, Beth, I didn’t see you there! You look so different." she says as she comes up for air and looks at me, a big smile on her face. Now, if anything, this is what will make me cry. As she hugs me I wipe at my eyes and tell them to stop. This doesn’t need to be all about how bad I have it. I just want to enjoy getting to know my friend again and my beautiful god babies.
I take a seat and pull up the menu to look at it as Nina picks up a crayon and begins scrawling onto a piece of paper that sits in front of her, her menu untouched and a juice of some kind half drank at her side.
Her daughter's hair is a dark auburn, but all the rest of her features remind me of Anton, and I see how she is the perfect combination. And she is much quieter and calmer than the cooing baby blowing bubbles on the ground as he practices holding himself up for the crawling motion and rocks back and forth.
"I am so sorry," I finally say as I see what I want and set the menu back down, composing myself as I look at my friend. "I hate that I missed being there to see Simion born and that I have not been here for my goddaughter either like I should have been."
Tasha shakes her head at me, her look stern. "No, it is both sides at fault here. I should have realized something was wrong when you didn’t come and stopped returning my calls after that. I let it go and moved on with my life. I shouldn’t have done that either. I should have just come up there and gotten the truth."
I shake my head and smile wryly at her. "I don’t think it would have done any good. If he didn’t try to keep you from me or send you away himself, I would have done so and envied everything. I was so lost. Still am a little."
She reaches over and places her hand on mine. "It'll be okay. You’re here now, and we can figure out this thing together. Now, let’s eat."
I laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly as my stomach begins to rumble. I had jumped on the flight without eating and had only had some crackers to snack on since getting off.
***
The water comes down on me, and I take it as a symbol of cleansing me from all that bad shit I had been knee deep in for far too long now. It felt good to be back in Miami and back around my best friend. We had spent over 2 hours at the restaurant just laughing and catching up. I had even gotten to hold Simion at the end there while Tasha had taken Nina to the restroom to get her cleaned up after making a mess out of her mac and cheese.
It felt like home, being with her again. But when she had asked me once more to come and stay with her in her guest house, I had refused. I thought it would be easier for me to heal in my own space, especially since I don’t have a plan as of yet. I haven’t filed any divorced papers. Hell, I haven’t even called a lawyer to find out what that entails. Right now, I am just figuring out how to live as a woman who is not on Noah’s arm and at his beck and call 24 hours a day.
I turn off the showerhead just as I hear a loud knock on the door. My brows furrow because I have no idea who it could be. I slip on the robe that is hanging in the bathroom— complimentary, and go to open the door. Standing on the other side is my husband, Noah, and the smell of alcohol hits me instantaneously. There are so many thoughts going through my head, I can't even sort them out. He has never been a heavy drinker to the point of pure drunkenness, at least not around me. But of course, he was hiding one thing, so he could be hiding plenty of other things under that brilliant smile and Armani suit.
I don’t know how he got here, nor do I want to know. The thought of him driving or even trying to think straight in the state he is in worries me, and there is an unease that overcomes me. I did not know until this moment, looking at the way he sags and looks at me as a pitiful excuse for a man that there is not a chance I am going back to him. I don’t want counseling or to work things out. I just want to be free.
"You have to come home, Bethany," he says, and I am surprised that he can string coherent words together with the way he reeks, even burping in my face before he starts to shed some tears running down his flushed cheeks. I don’t know if it is an act or not, but either way I am not buying what he’s selling. "I need you to come home. I thought if I gave you your space you would show back up, but then I saw you used the credit card in Miami."
He chokes on a sob, and I simply cross my arms over my chest, not letting him fully inside the hotel room. I don’t trust myself or him right now.
"Why would I come back to that, Noah? There's nothing to come back to. I don’t know if there ever was anything."
"I don’t even know what you mean,” he whines, looking defeated as he leans even harder on the frame. "I don’t know why you left. If you were sick of the parties, or what."
"It was the cheating!" I can’t help but raise my voice. How can he not realize I figured it out? I caught him red handed. Surely, he must not be that dumb to think I had any other reason to walk out. “You've been fucking Brittany, someone I thought was my friend. She was the only friend I was allowed to have though. And I am sure there’s a reason for that," I grit out, my nails digging into my fists as I feel my anger rise. I can’t believe he has come here to try and win me back. What does he even care about?
