"Cheated on me, Tyler. You chose a less attractive, less intelligent woman who can't even help you with the goddamn rent so you feel better about yourself? You're pathetic!" I snap.
Shaking my head for the hundredth time since yesterday, I end this. "I'm leaving. But I'll be back Sunday to get all my stuff. Please don't be here when I return. It's only 3 days away, and I need to never see you again," I say finally understanding everything and nothing at the same time.
Walking back to my former bedroom, I pull some of my clothes from their hangers aggressively and toss everything on the desk chair. Grabbing my suitcase from Tyler's side of the closet, I toss it on the floor and cram my clothes inside.
"Where are you going? Back to Kyle's?" He asks angrily.
How the hell did he know I was there? I trusted Kyle when he said he wouldn't tell anyone anything, and I thought I made it fairly clear that meant everyone, especially Tyler.
"It's none of your business where I go."
"I know, but really, Saige? Kyle's? Don't you think that makes everything a little awkward for me and Kaitlyn? I get that you hate us right now, but this is totally beneath you."
Shocked again at his passed-off tone with me, I have no idea what he's talking about. "I'm not sleeping with him. I'm not YOU, Tyler. So why would it be awkward for either of you? She gets to have you all to herself now with me gone, and you're free to do whatever," I almost sing song my words.
"Oh, I don't know- because he's her brother!" Tyler yells like I'm an idiot. "Yeah, talk about awkward when he called- What? Why do you look like that?" Tyler asks reaching for me when I stagger back a little against the closet door. Her brother? WHAT?! "You didn't know? I thought Kyle would've told you last night. Um, that's how she and I met. At his house," Tyler says a little quieter while my hands grab for my nauseous stomach.
I studied with him and slept on this couch. I'm the cutie redhead who saved his life, he said. He was so kind to me last night and he didn't tell me about his sister? Holy shit, I don't understand anybody anymore.
"I'm sorry, I thought you knew," Tyler says sadly still holding my arm.
Looking up at his dark eyes, I’m absolutely numb again. Every time I think this shit storm is over it crashes over me again and washes away a little more of me in its wake.
"Is that true?" I ask in the most pathetic voice I've ever spoken in my life.
Nodding, Tyler doesn't need to speak the words. "I thought you knew," he says again while I stand still with my head spinning.
I actually trusted Kyle. In a moment of desperation I leaned on a friend and thought he cared about me. God, he even asked me to check in with him later knowing it was his own sister screwing my boyfriend. His own sister who met Tyler at his house, and his sister who talked to me like I was the piece of shit here. Kyle was kind and funny and he made me feel a little better. I didn't like him romantically, but I definitely thought we had forged a solid friendship since yesterday.
Wanting to collapse on the floor I realize quite quickly I won't be able to hide this agony from Tyler much longer. I don't have the strength, and I can't find the reserve needed to get out of here without sobbing.
So I let it take me.
Finishing my clothes scramble, I toss everything into the suitcase and when I run out of room I reach under my bed for Tyler's huge duffle bag he never uses. Filling his duffle, I keep going on autopilot. I move around, grab my little jewelry box and my mementos box, and keep going. Walking past Tyler I rummage under the bathroom sink for everything I left last night and return with my arms full to dump in the bag.
Sobbing uncontrollably, I wipe my eyes when I can't see, and wipe my nose when I'm disgusting.
"I'm so sorry, Saige. Please don't cry," Tyler moans behind me wrapping his arms tightly around me even though I try to fight him off.
When I push and try to pull away he holds me tighter and I literally have no strength left in my body to fight him off.
Crying harder, Tyler says the unimaginable in a voice dripping with his own tears. Calming in his embrace, I don't want to look at his face, and I don't want to see his sadness while I drown in my own.
Whispering in my ear, Tyler explains everything in just 3 sentences between us. "This was never about me not loving you, Saige, because I still love you so much it’s killing me. There was just something about her I couldn't resist. And I'm so sorry you were hurt because of me, Lovey."
Lashing out at the words and the feelings from his own upset, I smash my head backward against his throat and chin, and as he jerks backward in pain I find my escape yelling, "DON’T CALL ME THAT!"
Diving for the suitcase I jump on its fullness and zip around my legs totally ignoring Tyler. Grabbing for the duffle I reach and pull and struggle with the weight of it until slinging it over my shoulder as best as I can I grab the suitcase to leave Tyler, my life, my home, and my everything else behind.
No words are needed, and no dramas need to be played out. I won't give him any more of me or my soul.
He can go fuck her and fuck Kyle for all I care. I don't need a friend and I don't need a boyfriend anymore.
This is the new Saige, and I have to make my life and my heart better than this.
"Goodbye, Tyler," I breathe calmly his full name before closing the door behind me for the last time.
CHAPTER 4
After checking into an affordable motel for the next 3 days at least I realize driving to work this has been one of the top 3 worse experiences of my life. And quite frankly, if I could tell everyone to piss off and die right now I would.
If I didn't need to keep a pleasant face, or a hostile-less presence at work, I would tell everyone to stay the hell away from me. Instead, I have to plaster on my pretty face and serve people happily for the rest of my shitty day.
Entering the back doors, I walk past Selena wishing I could ask her to cover for me again tonight. I would love to beg her to work a double, but I can't. I did that yesterday and she looks exhausted. Plus, if I'm really honest with myself, I would never do it for her 2 days in a row so I'm totally screwed.
But I hate this place today. I hate everyone, and everything, and basically, I'm just a hot friggin' mess wrapped up in anger and agony. And this really isn't me. Or wasn't me. Or wasn't who I thought I would be 6 months ago, or really even yesterday morning before I left Tyler at home with a kiss.
Checking my hair and makeup one last time I look like I should look; professional but attractive. My black and white tuxedo-like blouse has only a tiny bit of cleavage showing, and my skirt reaches my knees so it looks nice but not slutty in the least.
Actually, we're never supposed to look slutty at work which is good. Honestly, I refuse to appear like a slut without the bed-hopping to earn the title.
Inhaling and exhaling deeply this last time for the next 5 hours, I think I might be able to pull off tonight without stabbing anyone. Then again I should maybe tell Mike to keep sharp objects away from me tonight just in case.
Getting a grip, I walk to the boards to see I'm in the Bar/Lounge area which is the best area for tips but also the best area for idiots. And between Tyler, Kaitlyn, Kyle and even Handle this morning, I've had my fill of idiots the last 24 hours of my life.
Wrapping my little black apron around my waist, I take one last look at myself in the hallway mirror and I'm relieved to see I don't look nearly as homicidal as I feel inside.
"What's up, Saige? You look totally pissed off," Mike pauses rinsing a glass. Damn, maybe I don't look as mentally sound as I thought I did.
Turning to face Mike at the bar I realize how easy it would be to take out my devastation on him. If I didn't adore him as much as I do I would lay into him simply for being a man, for being friends with a liar, and for knowing my piece of shit ex and probably even his whore Kaitlyn. But I do adore him, so I bite my tongue and breathe through my anger instead.
Turning over a fake smile, I lie. "I'm not pissed at all. I'm good. Ah, is everyone covered?" I look a
round at the booths and tables while reeling in my temper.
Smirking at my lie, Mike chooses to ignore it instead of forcing me to talk like he usually would suggesting he really doesn't know what's going on with me and Tyler yet.
Getting the lowdown on my tables, I turn from Mike. "Perfect. Okay, 1, 4 and 6. Got it." Pulling my ponytail tighter I smooth out my black pencil skirt once again. Preparing for my night, I decide to forget last night and today until tomorrow when I'm less angry and more clear.
My brain is fried at the moment, and I'm exhausted and pissed off, which is the best thing for me right now. I know tomorrow, however, the pissed is going to turn into devastation mixed with probably some anxiety and tears- like many, many tears.
Walking first to tables 1 and 6, I smile for the couple and start my game of happy and pleasant. Introducing myself, I give out menus and take drink orders quickly while they decide what they want to eat. Moving to table 4's add-ons, I start all over again.
"Hi, I'm Saige, and I'll be taking over for Selena tonight." Looking at the couple without drinks I continue. "Would you like to order a drink while I get your menus?" I smile at both the nodding man and to the woman beside him giving me dirty looks for whatever reason.
"Honey?" He asks his wife maybe, yup, wedding rings, while placing his hand on hers which she noticeably grabs tighter.
Not even looking at me she demands, "I'll have sparkling water and the menu. Now. We've been waiting forever," she tacks on with a nasty glare. Before I can apologize for her supposed wait however the other woman quickly jumps in.
"You haven't been waiting forever, Linda. You've been here 2 minutes," she says with an apologetic smile at me.
Nodding, I know why she smiled- she's attractive- unlike Linda, who is average looking, slightly heavy, oh, and a total bitch. Attractive woman however is just that- attractive- therefore she doesn't have to be a bitch.
"And for you, Sir?"
"Heineken, if you have it?"
"Certainly. I'll be right back with your menus," I nod before turning on my heels.
Linda already hates me. Why? Did I flirt with her husband? No. Did I call her names or make her feel like shit about herself? No. I did nothing but be pleasant and she wants to be nasty to me because acting like a bitch will increase her attractiveness? Nope. It never does.
I can't stand women like that. I've done nothing wrong but she feels better about herself by being nasty to me for some unknown reason- which is totally unfair and ridiculous, especially in light of my current circumstances.
I have never whored myself or used my looks to get ahead, and I never will. I may be attractive to some, but that's not who I am. However, it’s fairly obvious UNattractive is who Linda is.
Standing at the bar while grabbing the menus I check on the other tables. 12 tables alone in one section is far too many for one waitress on a Friday or Saturday night, but on a Thursday it's doable because we're never filled to capacity.
"2 house white for 6, and a sparkling water and Heineken for 4," I exhale again as Mike walks to me for my drinks list.
"I gotta go," Selena pipes in as I turn to her. "What's wrong?" She asks as soon as she looks at my face.
"Nothing," I repeat my words to Mike, essentially confirming something IS wrong.
"Don't lie. You suck at it. Was it the exam?"
"Nope. As far as I know that went really well."
"But?"
"No but. I-"
"Ly-ing..." Selena sings. Damn, she's good.
"Can I talk to you about it later?" I beg quietly as Mike pours drinks blatantly trying to listen to us at the same time.
"Call me first thing in the morning. You know I'll be up," she says squeezing my hand which makes my upset harder to fight.
Trying to stop the potential tears Selena sees, I get my shit together as she watches. "Thanks again for yesterday," I smile still blinking like a cow.
"No problem. Exams are exams. I remember how stressful they were when I went to school," she fake shudders. "Anyway, I have tomorrow morning off so I'll relax with Griffin- after your phone call," she smiles referring to her young son before hugging me quickly.
Still looking at me silently, I have to change the subject before she makes me breakdown in the lounge. "I'll put your tips in the zippered jacket in your locker, okay?"
"Perfect. That's kiddo," Selena nods walking around the bar for the back employee lounge.
Selena is only 6 years older than me, but I'm always kiddo to her, which I guess I would be in her world. I don't have a child to care for, and I don't have an asshole ex-husband to deal with. I just have an ex-asshole. As of yesterday.
God, I can almost feel the anger changing to despair too quickly to reel in again. Blinking my teary eyes I smile at Mike who places the drinks for both tables in front of me.
Nearly choking up, I see him reaching for me so I pull away quickly with my tray. I swear any human contact right now will make me bawl my eyes out.
"I'll talk to you later. Promise," I walk away before he can push any farther. I can't do this now, and any kindness will open up the flood gates to sobbing. And though he means well, I doubt Mike could actually handle a hysterical woman crying her eyes out.
Returning to table 6 I give them their drinks and agree to come back for their order when they still aren't ready to decide.
Walking back to 4, I gently place the drinks on the table and hand the menu to the husband before Linda allows hers to drop out of my hand onto the table. Fighting the urge to pick up the menu and storm away, I swallow my anger and say politely, "I'll be back in a few minutes to take your order," but I'm cut off immediately.
"We're ready," Bitchface snaps. "I looked at their menus while I waited for my drink," she glares.
Taking a second to breathe calmly, I'm grateful this isn't the way most Diners behave. Thankfully, it’s not even the norm. Bitches like this one only come out to play maybe once a month, which is good for Servers everywhere. There wouldn't be a waitress left who hadn't inadvertently stabbed a customer with behavior like this.
"My sister and brother-in-law should start since they've been waiting the longest for someone to serve us," Linda says again with such venom, I swear to god I'm either going to burst into tears or I'm going to stab her- that's like the only 2 options I see at this point.
Smiling at the sister, I can guess why Linda is extra nasty. Who the hell would want to be (presumably) the older sister to the younger gorgeous sister? Not many.
"What can I get you?"
"Can I have another water and he'll have another beer," she smiles adorably at her husband before they each order their meals.
Watching them, they're just so cute together, I find an instant sadness settle behind my teary eyes I quickly cover up blinking again. God, Tyler and I were cute like that with each other.
"And for you?" I turn to smile at Bitchface.
"I'll have the house salad with a light vinaigrette on the side," she replies totally miserable and defeated. Well at least now I know why she's a moody bitch- she's on a diet.
"I'll have the New York steak. Medium-rare with the baked potato," Linda's husband orders as I smile one last time before leaving them to their drinks.
Entering the orders on our computer I move quickly to the surrounding tables. One after another I ask how their meals are, if they would like another drink, and if desserts are desired before table 1 finally places their order with me.
*****
Tidying up an empty table I watch a group of 8 men enter 20 minutes later and I’m instantly stressed again. I don't like large groups of men to begin with, but my day has been horrible and Linda made my mood worse.
Looking over I make eye contact with the group, signal I'll be with them in a moment, and give myself a little pep talk before turning for Mike to help set up the tables. I know I can handle the addition, especially with the bitch's table nearly being served and the other tables starting their meals or just finishing up.
Ignoring the slightly loud group while Mike and I arrange the tables, I move quickly but purposefully. I never lean over the table to give an inadvertent ass shot, nor do I lean over so they can see down my blouse. I know how to move to be the least sexual and flirty, especially among 8 men who I think have already been drinking based on how loud their multiple conversations are.
When Mike returns from the bar to place the menus around the table I walk back to the waiting group with my most professionally detached though warm personality.
"Hello, welcome to D'Vecseys. If you'll please follow me..." I turn already catching one guy staring at my ass like an idiot.
Waiting at the end of the table, Mike quickly fills the water glasses for me while they each sit down. Introducing myself, I continue, "Would you like to order drinks to begin?"
"Sure. We'd like separate bills as well please," a pleasant looking guy from the end says as I nod.
Separate bills typically means larger tips which I need desperately right now since I have to scramble to find a place to live. Plus, no one can pull any shit when each customer is served and billed exactly what they ordered. It still amazes me how many people try to imply they didn't order what they ate, or didn't buy as many drinks as they were charged when a joint bill of a few hundred dollars is suddenly placed in front of them on the table.
"Certainly," I say as usual, which is kind of my catch phrase in the restaurant.
Waiting, each guy begins ordering and thankfully I remember all the drinks, down to the last guy, though I'm sure they're all secretly waiting to see if I screw up their drink orders like most people do. What most don't understand, however, is remembering drinks and dinners is easy- remembering antiquated laws in Latin is not.
"I'll give you a few minutes to decide what you'd like to order," I announce before turning for the bar just slightly faster than a walk.
Placing the drink orders with Mike, I walk back to check on my remaining tables. Table 6 has been taking forever to eat which means they're probably on a second or third date, delaying the obvious departure while they figure out if tonight's the night for sex. And table 1 and 7 are just finishing their coffees.
(Mis)Trust Page 5