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He shakes his head and leaves me standing in the closet while he goes and sits on the bed. After he sets the pile of clothes down, his fingers are pushing through his hair. “There isn’t an easy way to say this.”
“Just spit it out. It’s not like you can shock me any more than you have.”
“Laura thinks it’s best that I take some time off.”
“Of course she does because you’re fucking her, too.”
Van meets my eyes, and for a minute I think he’s about to deny it, but doesn’t. Instead, he breaks his gaze and looks everywhere but at me.
“I’m going to check into rehab, Z. That’s why I’m here. I want you to wait for me, to hold off on the divorce. To give us a chance when I get out.”
I swallow hard at his words but shake my head. “I can’t, Van. What you did. . .” I turn around and head into the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind me. I turn on the water to drown out the wave of tears that is about to take over my body. Van and I had so much going for us, and he ruined it. One mistake and our world came tumbling down around us. If he’s addicted to sex, that means he’s been doing this longer than I know. I can’t bring myself to ask him how long he’s been cheating because I don’t want to know the answer. It’s hard knowing that I wasn’t enough for him, that he had to seek pleasure elsewhere. I have loved that man since I was seventeen and this is how he shows me what that love has meant.
When I feel as if the tears have subsided I look in the mirror at myself and wonder how the hell I got here, to where I am now in life. Over a month ago I was happy, ready to start a family with the man I love, and now look at me. I’m a shell, barely able to function, and all because I allowed that man to break me.
Van is still sitting on the bed when I return. He looks up at me and stands. I’m tempted to go to him, to ask him to ease the pain he’s caused, but know that it’ll only cause more in the end.
“What you’re asking of me is unfair. What you’ve done to me, I will never be able to forget and right now forgiveness is not in my vocabulary.”
“I made a mistake, Zara.”
“But how many times, Van? Because I caught you and you haven’t stopped. Not to mention I know you’ve been with Laura, who I might add is someone we employ. I can’t trust you, and it hurts to say that because you’re someone I have loved for a long time. If you have a problem, get help. Do what you need to do for yourself, but don’t go in thinking that I’m going to be here waiting when you get out.”
I leave Van in the bedroom and head back downstairs. It’s my hope that he’ll use the time to gather the rest of his belongings and take them with him. I need to move on and not seeing his stuff every day will help that.
It’s an hour or so later when he comes downstairs, looking for plastic bags. He finds me sitting in the dark and whispers into my ear that he’s sorry. I believe that he is, but it’s too late. I don’t know if there will ever be a time that I won’t close my eyes and see him with Laura’s assistant on her desk or even picture him with Laura.
When Van leaves, I let the tears flow freely. It’s not a hard cry where I am hyperventilating and doubled over in pain, but one that proves that Van and I are over for good. The high school romance has finally come to an end.
I scour the house for my phone, desperate to send off a message to Laura that she’s fired, only when I find it, there’s a message from Levi thanking me for coming over earlier and asking if I’d like to have coffee with him sometime.
My reply to him is immediate with a resounding yes, and I tell him that tomorrow morning would work. I even go as far as to suggest a place to meet and at what time. It’s only after I send the message, when I realize that maybe I look a bit desperate, but I don’t care. I like his company, and I love that our lifestyles are exact opposites of each other’s, and yet we seem to have a connection. He’s someone that I feel comfortable with, and it’s my hope that he’ll become a good friend.
levi
Twelve
I don’t knowwhat came over me, asking Zara for coffee. My intent was to thank her for coming over and once that sentence was typed out my fingers took over, adding the part about getting coffee. I didn’t even think about it until I looked at the blue bubble and felt a bout of anxiety start to take over as I realized that I probably overstepped the imaginary line in a new relationship. Not that we’re in one or ever will be, but I want to be her friend because I think she could use one right about now.
My mama saw the horror on my face as I was looking at my phone and took it from me. I expected her to chide me, to remind me that the mother of my children had just died and that I should be thinking about them, but she didn’t. She smiled and said that she liked Zara.
Thing is, I like her too and I can’t figure out why. She is nothing like me or the women I’ve dated in the past and the complete opposite of Iris. Truthfully, that scares the shit out of me because after talking to her yesterday, she is nowhere near ready for any guy, let alone someone like me.
I have never understood why people cheat. My parents, both sets of grandparents, and Barbara and her husband have all been married forever. That was what I wanted when I married Iris. Even though we were young, I was determined to make it work. She said fame changed me and she was probably right, but it changed us. She never complained about the money that was coming in or the fancy clothes she got to buy. Iris never worried about buying the girls everything they needed or wondered if she’d have money to buy groceries. My fame took care of all that. It wasn’t until she decided she wasn’t happy that it became a problem for her.
Still, sitting in the back corner of the coffee shop, I wonder if I made the right decision by asking Zara for coffee. Even with her immediate response of yes, I’m still second-guessing everything every time the door chimes bang against the glass as the door is pushed open, only to have this instant let down that she hasn’t shown up yet. And still, my heart picks up pace when I see someone with platinum hair walking by the window, only to notice that the purple on the end is missing. My leg bounces anxiously each time I check the time, only to realize that I am very early and she still has five minutes until our set meeting time.
Of course, I start thinking about what happens when she doesn’t show. Do I text her again? Call her? Walk out of here with my tail between my legs and tell myself I gave it the ole Boy Scout try?
Or do I get all excited and embrace my rapidly beating heart and sweaty palms as she stalks toward me with a smile so bright that it could light up Music Row? What I end up doing is stumbling over the leg of the table, jabbing my thigh, and biting my tongue to keep from crying out as I walk toward her to give her a kiss on the cheek. I’m as smooth as they come, I tell ya.
“Are you okay?” she asks. I’m slightly embarrassed that she saw my epic blunder. I nod as casually as possible and take a few deep breaths, hoping to push away the throbbing pain in my leg. I pull out her chair and wait for her to sit down before I gingerly return to my seat. Zara is dressed as inconspicuously as possible. Her long hair is hidden under a beanie and the make-up she wore yesterday is nothing like what she has one now. The bold, vibrant colors are gone and replaced by subtlety. She looks angelic and completely different than the woman I met yesterday, and I have a feeling that I like both.
“I wish I could say I’m as graceful as Stormy when she dances, but that would be a fib.”
Zara laughs, and the sound shoots straight to my heart. I like the way it makes me feel and have a feeling that I may be blushing. “It’s something I’ve done many times, and I’m sure it’ll happen again,” she says, trying to ease my awkwardness. She doesn’t, but I don’t let on. I have a feeling anything that she does, is done so with as much elegance as humanly possible.
“What can I get ya to drink?” I ask her, and as I do, I find myself leaning forward so that we’re closer.
