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I don’t know what to think or say. Collins claps my arm. “I’m sorry, man.”
He says something else, but I don’t hear it. His footsteps echo in the locker room. I don’t know how long I stand there. Finally, I manage to get myself to my truck, and I sit there indecisively. I feel cast adrift with no sense of direction.
I turn the ignition and find myself driving toward downtown. Twenty minutes later, I park outside Sumptuous Coffee House. My heart beats hard against my chest. I visualize Mila standing outside the entrance, looking furtively each way before hurrying in.
No, I shake my head. That doesn’t sound like Mila at all. I don’t see her going behind my back to meet another man. And yet, my oldest friends confirmed it. Debbie is one of the most composed and trustworthy people I know. If she says she saw Mila kissing another man, then she did.
The pain comes then. It comes dully at first before growing into epic proportions and spreading across my chest. It stabs and pulls as though someone has plunged a sharp knife into my flesh. How could Mila betray me the same way Brenda did? She knows what that would do to me. If she was tired of us, she could have just said so. My cheeks are wet, and I discover that I’m crying silently.
I stare unseeingly at the coffee house. Is this somewhere they meet often? When did it start? So much doesn’t make sense. We had such a fun crazy date at the theatre the previous day. Was she just pretending to enjoy herself?
I remember the way she gripped the chair and the way her body convulsed as she came. No one can fake that kind of reaction. What about the easy time we had at the coffee house afterward, just enjoying each other’s company? She had looked at peace. I remember thinking at the time that she looked like a woman who was well-loved. And I was the lucky fellow who got to love her. I shake my head. It doesn’t add up. Why would Mila be seeing another man?
What if she’s one of those women who are insatiable? The kind of woman who needs two or more lovers to be satisfied. But what about the character? The Mila I thought I knew was loyal and kind and would do anything to avoid hurting anyone.
The world seems to have shifted on its axis. Nothing makes sense anymore. I just don’t know what to think. But whatever her reasons are, the fact remains that Mila is seeing someone else. I allow the pain to wash over me. It consumes me, and I wallow in it. My experience has taught me not to fight feelings. They come and go. Even this pain will go. I sit there and make plans. Mila is waiting for me at home. I have to decide how to handle the situation.
I could confront her and tell her that I know. But I don’t know if I can handle it. I’m not ready to have that conversation with her. Then there’s the matter of the custody. I push away my emotions, which are clouding my logical thinking. I should wait until after the custody case before confronting Mila, but I don’t know if I can do it. It’s too much pain to keep bottled up. I already feel like I’m going to explode.
The image of Mila kissing a strange man fills my mind. Mila running her soft hands over the faceless man’s shoulders as she likes to do mine. Mila’s sweet mouth wrapped over another man’s cock. Piercing jealousy comes over me, and I feel like punching something.
What if I had walked into the coffee house and found them instead of Debbie? How would Mila have reacted? Would she have been embarrassed, or would she have raised her chin and looked at me with defiance?
When I walked in on Brenda on all fours, getting fucked on my living room floor by my neighbor, she had stared at me with a slight smile on her face. As if she had wanted to be caught. Red hot anger comes over me, and I punch my open palm.
Just as the sudden anger comes, it dissolves, and I feel incredibly sad. I had so much hope for us. Mila had seemed like the perfect woman for me and a mother for Isaac. She’s enriched our lives so much with her infectious joy. Is it all a game to her? Is this something she does often, toying with a man’s heart and then discarding it like trash when she’s done with him? It will take all my self-control not to confront her as soon as I clap my eyes on her.
I sigh deeply and turn the ignition. The last place I want to go is home, but I can’t stay outside a coffee house all evening. Besides, Isaac is waiting for me. At the thought of my son, my resolve hardens. I would do anything for him. He’s what matters in all this.
