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Like the mature personI am, I call and leave Lisa a voicemail first thing in the morning, telling her I have food poisoning from a July Fourth barbeque and that I won’t be in. Since it’s Tuesday, I’m not sure what excuse I’ll have for the rest of the week, but I’m definitely not going in to work and facing Carter.
How could I?
I lie in bed, my body and mind exhausted, having barely slept, and cried myself to sleep. How could he do this to me? The photos she showed me flash in my mind’s eye.
He’s just getting it out of his system...
I’m pregnant with his child...
He’s just going to deny it and say I’m crazy...
That part made sense. She definitely seems unhinged.
Did Carter take this girl to the Mile High Rooms too? Maybe he met her there?
I can’t do this.
I flop the covers to the side and get up, going into the kitchen to get some water and painkillers. My head is pounding and I can’t think straight. I remember the time Carter was here and I was so drunk.
Drink water and take Tylenol.
Drink slowly or you’ll puke...
I’m not even drunk. I’m just sad. Upset. Even Tylenol bottles are reminding me of him. I can’t escape him.
“Shit,” I say, swallowing the tablets and heading back to bed.
What am I going to do?
Look for another job, that’s what.
But I don’t have the energy to bring up Indeed and start searching. I can’t imagine a job where I wouldn’t see Carter every day. Even if it’s just a hallway hello or the flirtation in his eyes as he looks at me.
The love.
He said he loved me. I told him I love him, too. And I meant it with my whole heart. How could he say that to someone while having a secret pregnant fiancée on the side?
When does he have time for this crazy bimbo?
Is he crazy, too? A monster?
My mind furiously pulls up all the memories we’ve been making over the past three months. If he’s engaged to her, why is he spending the Fourth of July with me? Taking me to golf outings and introducing me to his buddies? Taking me to the Mile High Rooms? Confiding in me about the problems this Jim guy is having with the app?
Maybe this crazy fiancée of his doesn’t listen? He just uses me for sex and pillow talk to vent?
I think about his house. There’s not one single photo of this lady anywhere. Maybe it’s his secretotherhouse. A guesthouse. Come to think of it, there weren’t a lot of real personal photos of anything except him and Eric in high school and a photo of the three of us at my graduation.
That reminds me that I’ve known Carter for a very long time. He’s not the secret-girlfriend-on-the-side type.
Is he?
Do I really know himthatwell?
A part of me wants to email Eric and ask him to call me so we can talk about it. To see if he thinks Carter is capable of this. But then, that would require me to confess what we’ve been up to the past few months and that was not a conversation to be had over the phone.
But if it’s over between Carter and me... why not?
