Bittersweet Deceit

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Bittersweet Deceit Page 32

by Blakely Bennett


  Me: I’m home, can you come here?

  MM: Right after a shower. Don’t go anywhere.

  Me: I won’t.

  I felt suffocated by my work outfit and stripped out of it. The shower beckoned to me and I set the water as hot as I could stand it. I quickly washed off, and dried, and then gargled and brushed my teeth. In sweatpants and a T-shirt, I sat on the couch and waited.

  Fear seemed to overwhelm every other emotion. I kept rearranging myself on the couch, not finding a comfortable position. In the kitchen I found a hard apple cider and thought about drinking it but put it back instead. I grabbed my cigarettes and journal from the balcony and placed them in the draw of my nightstand and then I emptied the ashtray. After rinsing it, I put it in the dishwasher.

  A knock sounded on the door and I felt slightly dizzy, my heart was beating so fast.

  I opened the door and I hardly recognized the man before me. He looked ten pounds thinner, his face gaunt. His energy was marinated in sadness.

  “Thank you for reaching out to me. I really thought I’d lost you forever.”

  “Come sit on the couch,” I said, taking his hand and leading him there.

  “You look beautiful, Lainie, as radiant as ever. Have you been well?”

  I had no idea how to address his comment so I said, “Your wife came by my clothing store today.”

  “She what?” He looked completely stunned.

  “Yes. She asked me to take you back.”

  He stared at me, dumbfounded.

  I shared what she said and gave him a minute to digest it.

  “Would you have contacted me otherwise?” he asked, running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair.

  “I honestly don’t know.”

  “Baby, I’m so sorry. I never ever wanted to hurt you. You are the love of my life, and my life makes no sense without you in it.” His eyes filled with tears. “I wish we had met years ago.”

  I could feel all the pieces of my rejected heart, amassing back together.

  We stared at each other and I didn’t know what to do. I still—even with him right in front of me—didn’t know what I wanted.

  He gathered me in his arms and I let him. He held me as I cried, his tears joining mine. We held on tight as if gravity might pull us apart. He stood and said, “Please let me show you how much I love you.”

  Standing up next to him we kissed and I closed my eyes hoping to find the love that once lived there. What I felt was a mixture of sadness and confusion.

  He led me to my bedroom and reached to undress me.

  I held his hand against me and said, “Mason, I can’t have sex with you. There’s too much that’s unresolved.”

  “You’re right. Let’s talk.”

  I started, “Is it true that you’ve canceled jobs and not gotten out of bed?”

  “I couldn’t live with myself, knowing how much I hurt you.”

  My eyes filled with tears again but I continued, “You led me to believe your relationship with Victoria was incredibly strained.”

  “It was when we met. That was all true but somehow my love for you spilled over into my marriage.”

  “You plan to stay married then,” I said.

  “Yes,” he said, touching my thigh.

  “So nothing has really changed other than we know your wife knows about me, has always known about me.”

  “Her knowledge will allow us to have more time together.” He pleaded with his clear, blue eyes but I didn’t feel their impact anymore.

  “Or less. Regardless, what are you offering me?” My anger began to resurface.

  “My love.”

  “I’m sorry, Mason, that’s not enough anymore.”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m in love with someone else.” I finally admitted it to myself.

  “In a week? The boy?”

  “His name is Stayman, and he’s offering me a full life not bits and pieces of one.”

  “You’re still angry.”

  “Only with myself. I hurt someone very important to me so I could see you again. I forgive you Mason. Maybe if you channeled the energy you funneled to me into your marriage you might find you have everything you need. I can’t wait around for you anymore.”

  “Lainie, please think about this. We haven’t had the chance to spend time and reconnect.”

  “Mason, I need to go. I need to find ‘the boy’ as you call him. Please stop hiding in your bed and take care of your family. They need you.” I glanced at Mason and then woke up my phone.

  Me: Stay are you home? Can I come over?

  Mason didn’t move off the bed, his expression dejected.

  I went to the second bedroom and gathered his belongs. Handing them to him, I said, “Maybe someday you and I can be friends. I care about you deeply but it’s time for me to have a real life for myself. Come on.” I held out my hand to him.

  In front of the door, we hugged one last time and said goodbye.

  I hoped he would find his way back to his wife for good.

  When I received nothing back from Stay, I called him.

  “You’ve reached me. Well my voicemail anyway. Leave a message, I’ll call you back.”

  “Hi Stay. Where are you? Can I come by? We need to talk. Please call me back as soon as you get this.”

  I thought about driving over to Stay’s. Instead, I texted Bond.

  Me: Have you heard from Stay? Is he with you?

  To Jacqs I texted:

  Me: Did you talk to Stay? He isn’t responding to me.

  The waiting drove me crazy. All I wanted to do was tell Stay how I felt about him and no one was texting me back.

  Finally I got something from Jacqs.

  Jacqueline: I haven’t spoken to Stay but I know Bond has.

  Me: Bond isn’t responding either.

  Jacqueline: I think they went to an AA meeting. They might have their phones turned off.

  Me: Because of me? Do you know where?

  Jacqueline: No, I don’t know where. What happened with Mason?

  Me: I said goodbye.

  Jacqueline: Oh fuck, I’m so relieved. Don’t worry; I’m sure you’ll hear back from Stayman soon.

  Only, I didn’t. A few hours later I heard back from Bond.

  Bond: Stay needs some time. I’m sure you’ll hear from him soon.

  Me: I need to talk to him, tell him how I feel. Can you help me?

  Bond: Lainie, all I can tell you is to give him space.

  Me: He hasn’t asked me for space, he just hasn’t responded.

  Bond: Look, Lane, I can’t tell you his business. I know you understand that. He’s hurting and needs to work it through himself.

  Me: But he doesn’t need to be hurting.

  Bond: My suggestion is to email him.

  Me: I can’t say this stuff over email. Okay, thanks for getting back to me.

  Bond: Hang in there.

  Me: I’ll try.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Say Something

  by A Great Big Word & Christina Aguilera

  The next few days moved by painfully slow. Most of the time I felt like I was trudging through sludge, forcing myself to put each foot in front of the other. The irony wasn’t lost on me. Before I would wait and wait to hear from Mason and now it was as if I sat a bus stop where my bus never passed through.

  I finally broke down on Wednesday and texted two songs to Stay.

  Me: David Gray pleaseforgiveme.mp3

  Me: Incubus imissyou.mp3

  I figured out that I had never experienced depression over Mason because I had new perspective with Stay. If he didn’t contact me soon, I planned to bang down his door.

  I hadn’t decided if I would go to the get together at Red’s. Would it be worse for Stay not to show at all or be there and ignore me? Of course I couldn’t imagine Stay ignoring me in person. He clearly was a master at avoidance over the phone though.

  Samantha had to be sick of my dark funk, I know I surely was. I t
exted Jacqs to find out the lay of the land.

  Me: Is Stay coming tonight?

  Jacqueline: I haven’t heard, I can ask Bond.

  Me: I’ll text him.

  Jacqueline: Are you coming?

  Me: I haven’t made up my mind.

  Jacqueline: Let me know.

  Me: K. Later

  Me: Do you know if Stay’s going tonight? Will you be there?

  Bond: Yes for me and I think for Stay too. We’re going to hit a meeting first.

  Me: If I go, will he talk to me?

  Bond: Lane, I don’t see him ignoring you.

  Me: That’s not very encouraging.

  Bond: I have your back. See you soon.

  Me: Thanks.

  As I started to get ready to leave for the day, Sam said, “Will I see you at Red’s?”

  “Yeah, I’m going. It’s a chance to see Stay. If he won’t talk to me, I can always shove him into the pool.”

  “That sounds like a good tactic,” she said, laughing. “Sure to endear you to him.”

  “I’m desperate.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”

  “Thanks. And thanks for closing up.”

  “Of course.”

  We hugged and I went out through the back.

  At my apartment, I showered and spent way too much time trying to decide what to wear. I let my hair dry naturally and finally decided on a twisted, mint-green, halter, chiffon dress. I couldn’t wear a bra with it because the straps crossed in front leaving a sexy keyhole between my breasts. I chose beige, strap heals and a wide, clip on bracelet I situated halfway up my forearm. Dangling earrings peeked out under my hair. I applied a little eye makeup and then grabbed my bag.

  When I arrived at Red’s, Bond and Stay hadn’t showed yet. Most of the group was busy playing pool. I sat on the couch glider outside, wishing I had decided to wear jeans and T-shirt. I look like I’m trying too hard, I thought.

  The French door opened and Bond came out.

  “Hi,” I said, expecting Bond to tell me Stay chose not to come.

  “Hi, Lane.”

  I stood up and met him halfway.

  “You look incredible in that dress. Stay will have a hard time denying you.”

  “Is that his plan?” I said feeling defeated before I even had a chance.

  “He’s out front and wants to talk to you.”

  Fear and apprehension accompanied me as I stepped forward. “If Jacqs comes out, please tell her where I went.”

  “Yes, of course,” Bond said and lifted my hand. “I’m rooting for you.”

  “Thank you. It means a lot to me.”

  Bond held the door for me and I plodded through the house, not in a hurry to get to my destination. When I stepped outside, I saw Stay leaning against his antique Corvette. I took it as a good sign. His dress also indicated he’d made an effort, black slacks and a dark-gray button-down shirt.

  He turned when he heard the door shut.

  My throat felt blocked and I didn’t know if I could speak. I had no idea what to say anyway. I stood awkwardly in front of him, staring down at my heels.

  “I got your songs,” Stay said. “You look amazing tonight.”

  I nodded, peeking up.

  “Do you want to tell me what happened with Mason?”

  “I said goodbye. I told him he should put the energy he was putting into me back into his marriage.” Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, ran through my head before I said, “Why have you cut me off?”

  “I told you me and rejection; we aren’t the best of friends,” he said as he stood up straight.

  “If you had given me half a chance you would have found out otherwise. Why is it you only feel the bad stuff?”

  He stared at me, and I didn’t care for the emotion I felt.

  “So just like that”—I snapped my fingers—“you stop loving me?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “Why do I continue to allow myself to love the wrong men? If you don’t want me anymore, fine, I’ll leave. Have fun tonight.” I started to walk away.

  “Lainie, wait.”

  “I’ve been through enough already Stayman.”

  “Did you say you love me?” he said, clutching my arm and not letting me go.

  “If you hadn’t been such an ass, you would have known that on Monday. Please let go of my arm,” I said, trying to tug it free.

  He let me go. “When you said you were going back to Mason—”

  “I never said I was going back to him. I had to see him. I found out that what I felt for him was gone. I told him that I love you.”

  “You told him that?” His eyes opened wide in surprise.

  “Yes, and if you would have given me even one moment you would know that what I felt for you was completely different.”

  “Felt?”

  “Did you drink alcohol?”

  “No, but for the first time in years I wanted to. I called Bond instead.” He touched my arm again and I shrugged it away.

  “This is such a mess,” I said. “I understand that this stirred up some old, dark stuff for you but I’m not sure I can be with a man who will shut me out when it gets tough.”

  “I thought we were over,” he said, holding his palms out in front of him.

  “Did you get my text? Did you listen to my message?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did I sound like I was ending our relationship?”

  “In my mind you already had.”

  “If I keep standing here, I’m going to start crying or hit you and I don’t want to do either. I’m mad at you Stayman. I’ve been so desperate to hear from you, I’ll I could think about was being with you, in your arms again and yet you greet me like some kind of stranger.”

  “I need some time.”

  “Yeah and I’m always the one that gets to wait. Sort it out. I’ll either be here waiting or not. Why the car and the clothes?”

  “I ... I’m scared.”

  “And I’m not? You woo me, make me fall in love with you and now you’re not sure. How am I supposed to take that? Why are you dressed up? Oh god. You have a date. That’s why you were waiting out here for me. You’re not even planning to go in.” I punched his chest with the sides of my fist, my tears flowing freely.

  He grabbed my wrist and pulled me to him. “Don’t, Lainie. There’s no one else,” he said as he held me tight.

  “Don’t do this, Stay,” I cried. “Please. If you send me away, I don’t think my heart will survive it.”

  “I need to get myself under control again.”

  “Let me help. I love you,” I pleaded.

  “I don’t know if I can.”

  I stepped back and said, “Okay.” I blinked my eyes several times. “Take care of yourself. Tell Jacqs I decided to go home.”

  “Lainie,” he said.

  I didn’t turn around. I barely made it to my car. The dark haze that filled in around me felt so oppressive that the angst became trapped inside, tearing me to shreds. Never again, I vowed. Never!

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Start of the Breakdown

  by Tears for Fears

  The dark funk turned me into a hollow version of myself; functioning at work, putting on a smile when necessary, and breaking down at home. I hated Stay with a passion I had never felt toward another. Not even when I saw Mason with his wife. Stay had promised me the moon and then took the stars away along with it. At least Mason was honest from the beginning about what he had to offer. Stayman was a fucking liar.

  Everyone other than Stay kept texting me. I even received some from Mason. He asked if I had taken the time to really think, et cetera. The only one I responded to was Jacqs, letting her know we were still on for my mother’s party on Saturday and asking her to tell everyone else I was fine.

  Fine is a funny word when you think about it. Telling someone I’m fine, in dictionary terms means being satisfactory or in a satisfactory condition. However when our group used it, we
tended to mean agreement, or that we aren’t so bad off we’re going to kill ourselves. It didn’t really mean that how we felt was acceptable but just that we would make it through. I would make it through, of that I had no doubt, but I thought I might have to find a new circle of friends.

  Maybe someday I’d be capable of being friendly with Stayman but it would take a long time.

  Over that Thursday and Friday the only positive thing that happened was that I gave Samantha a substantial raise.

  “Here’s your check for April,” I said.

  “Why so much? I mean I’m not complaining.”

  “I’ve given you a raise and changed your job title to assistant manager.”

  “Get the fuck out of town!” She glanced to the check, then to me, then back to the check. She danced around a bit and then threw her arms around my neck and gave me a big hug. “I can’t wait to tell Mom. She’ll be so thrilled.”

  “I don’t want you sneaking off and working for someone else,” I said with a smile I actually felt.

  “Not a chance.”

  I dreaded Saturday night like the plague. My mother had a keen sense of my vulnerabilities and tended to exploit them for her amusement. If I didn’t feel like I’d totally be letting my father down, I would have blown off her party.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Heart Skipped a Beat

  by The xx

  On Saturday, staring into my closet, I wished I hadn’t worn the green dress on Wednesday. I liked it and knew I could never wear it again. Instead I slipped into a navy, sleeveless, sequence and lace dress with a sweetheart neckline. The hem came down to about mid-thigh. I wore black pumps and took my time with my makeup. My mother wouldn’t leave the house without a full-face on.

  She hated my hair down with natural waves but I figured I needed to give her something to gripe about. Frankly I didn’t have the energy to blow-dry my hair straight.

  Jacqs planned to meet me at my parent’s house so she could make her escape when she’d had enough. I didn’t blame her at all. My mother had a knack for spreading her venom around when she wanted to.

 

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