The Other Other Woman

by Mallory Lockhart

  That’s terrible. You still should have let me know. I could have spent a lot less of my weekend being upset. Again.

  Well, I’m sorry, again. I’ll call you at 11:30 when I head to lunch appt.

  Jules was livid. “How is it that he manages to always be the victim? He acts like a completely heartless bastard, and yet, we are supposed to somehow feel sorry for him. Poor baby has so much drama in his life! I know you love him, Mal, but I fail to see any reason to at all. He is a terrible person.”

  Even my 60 year old mother said, “What a fucking drama queen.”

  Brooke was only slightly more understanding. “I think you just need to tell him what you want from him, but be prepared for him to tell you ‘No.' Then you need to move on. But you can’t keep going on like this. It’s not right for him to keep stringing you along like this forever.”

  When we finally spoke, I raked him over the coals for not calling me or letting me know what was going on over the weekend. “You knew how upset I was on Friday. And you couldn’t send one two-second text to let me know that you had a situation going on? You weren’t ever alone for two seconds? Not to pee, not running errands, nothing, huh?”

  “Well, yes. I was, but like I said, I didn’t have a block of time.”

  “I don’t understand how you can claim to care about me so much, Matt. I really don’t.”

  “Mallory, I’m sorry. I don’t keep my phone on me at all times on the weekends. I know I should have let you know. I just got caught up trying to help this kid and I thought about calling you several times, but I didn’t do it. I was just hoping you would understand.”

  “You keep saying how you want me to be your friend right now, but you can’t even extend me the same courtesy.”

  “I know. You’re right. I’m really sorry,” he said, seemingly apologetic. “But I'm here now, so let’s talk.”

  “I don’t know what there is left to say, Matt. I don’t understand what is going on down there to make you act this way toward me suddenly, and I’m obviously not going to get any straight answers from you.”

  “I have told you exactly what’s going on. That I’m mixed up right now and I want some time to decide what the next steps are. It doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I do. I still want to talk to you. I still want us to be just like we are, but it’s hard for me when I know I’m upsetting you all the time. It makes me just not want to make it any harder than it already is. I don’t want to hurt you, Mal.”

  “Then stop hurting me.”

  “I’m not trying to. Please… just give me some time. You’ll see, this is not the end.”

  I was going to start the big ugly cry again so I quickly got off the phone. I realized I never actually told him what I want like Brooke had advised me to. So I sent him a pathetic, desperate, last-ditch effort text. Here’s the bottom line for me. I want to see you in whatever capacity I can. If that means you stay with your wife and we continue on as we have, fine. If that means you leave and we see each other “legally” even better. But I was not prepared for the idea of giving you up entirely, and that is what’s breaking my heart.

  Don’t give up on me yet, babe.

  ****

  The City of Oaks Marathon took place the second weekend in November. There was no way was I running in it, but the course went right by our house so I did enjoy being a spectator. It was great fun to sit out there with the neighbors, drinking mimosas and eating junk food while watching other people sweating and trying not to die for a few hours. Nate was coming to pick up the girls for a little while that afternoon. It did not occur to me that he would not be parking in front of the house as he always did because of the various road closures. I was upstairs doing laundry by that time, checking out the window for him periodically. Unfortunately, I was unable to hear that he had already come in and was downstairs going through my phone. It had been over five months since we had separated, but he still had no respect for my privacy. I knew right away what had happened when he came flying up the stairs screaming and literally chucked my phone at my head, “If you want to be with him, then just go ahead! Have a great life!!!”

  “What the hell?” I asked, ducking. “Oh, been going through my phone, have you? That’s real classy.”

  He grabbed the girls and rushed out of the house, mumbling that he was sorry. When I scrolled back to see exactly what was in there–because I still was in the habit of deleting or at least still moving most incriminating texts–it was obvious that he had seen the part about me still wanting to be with Matt whether he was married or not. There was no explanation that was going to get me out of that one. He knew we had obviously been an item, even if we weren’t now.

  He ended up having a little bit of a nervous breakdown. Not full blown, exactly, but he was sent for medical attention and it was a little scary that week. He missed work and was on such heavy medication that he wasn’t able to see the kids at all. It was a good week and a half before he could even ask me any details about Matt. When he did, I tried to be as honest as possible without saying too much… that I had developed very strong feelings for him, which amounted to exactly nothing because he broke up with me anyway.

  Nate was relieved to learn that I wasn’t with him anymore. I think he thought it would help his chances for reconciliation, but it wouldn’t. I still didn’t want to be married to anyone, and definitely not to him. Once he knew the few details I was willing to give him, he had trouble understanding how someone who seemed as honest and straightforward as I was could put up with Matt’s brand of nonsense in the first place. I couldn’t argue. I didn’t understand it either. He said he felt sorry for me, that I shouldn’t have been treated this way. Although deep down, he probably felt I deserved every bit of it, and I’m sure he was right. It was the first time we had been able to talk as friends since the split, and it was kind of nice feeling like I actually had him on my side for once. It helped to change the way we related to each other, which was beneficial for everyone. So I was somewhat glad that he knew.

  Over the next few weeks, work became very busy. One of the members of our team gave her notice that she was going to leave, and it created additional work for everyone. With the end of the year’s tax selling, most days were so busy, that I often ended up taking work home. It couldn’t have come at a better time because I desperately needed the distraction. I was doing everything in my power to keep my mind occupied on anything other than Matt. I started looking for meet up groups online for people with similar interests; even started browsing through online dating sites, but it was futile at best. He was still all I could think about, and I still spent the majority of my time crying like an idiot. But I promised myself that I wasn’t going to engage him in any further conversations about “us.” He knew where I stood and I was not going to beg him to come back, at least not more than I already had. We continued to talk about “safe” subjects like politics and work-related issues on a somewhat regular basis but not nearly as often as we used to. Instead of speaking every day it was more like every four or five days.

  Thanksgiving officially marked the end of Matt’s 30 Day Mindfuck. I hadn’t heard a peep out of him over the holiday weekend, so by Sunday night I broke my promise. I was feeling like I wanted to fight. Who did he think he was, anyway? I texted him a simple, What’s up?

  Hey, just watching TV. Had a great weekend with the kids. You okay?

  Yeah, I’m fine. Lovely Nate-free holiday, but I think I broke my finger. Was bummed not to hear from you, but I guess this is all we are now?

  Sorry about the finger… well I’m sorry (again) that you were disappointed… had 3 kids, 5 cousins, parents, etc. to deal with.

  Seems like we talk less and less these days. Is that what you want? I have to ask you if you had any intention of actually seeing me again or if this “30 day” thing was just a ruse to get me to take a hint and get lost. I’m usually pretty good at taking hints but you are also really good at saying things to keep me around.

  Not a
ruse, my plate is full and I cannot balance my life until I make changes. That was the honesty I wanted to convey.

  But I never asked you to make any changes. I have patiently waited for you to make them in your own time. It’s just such a shame to me. I wish I knew what went wrong. I loved what we had. You know what kind of person I am and that I genuinely care for you. No matter how “full” my plate got, I wouldn’t treat you this way. But you are not me.

  I know who you are and that is why I was first attracted to you. But I cannot multi-task as well as you.

  In that case, I hope your other “tasks” are worth it. The problem for me is that you’ve never been able to just come out and say “it’s over.” So there is always a part of me that wants to believe we’re not. But it’s like forcing someone to quit instead of firing them. I very much want to move on if there is nothing left here. I don’t have a problem with being just friends per se, but it’s the uncertainty I can’t stand.

  OK, well let’s talk tomorrow then and decide. Even though 30 days is not over and I wanted to figure this out with no rash decisions.

  You are already in bed, aren’t you? It was almost 10 p.m.

  No, but watching TV with my son.

  I was joking.

  I know, dear. Bed now.

  The next day, I heard nothing. He must have been really looking forward to this conversation. In all fairness, he had headed up to Tennessee that morning, but we could have easily talked while he was in the car. Around dinner time I sent him a message: *Taps foot impatiently*

  Hey will call you later tonite.

  Okay, please have the Matt Wynne circa April - August call back. Thanks. I heard from him a little after eight p.m.

  “Hey, sweetie.”

  “Hey, stranger.”

  “Very funny,” he said. “The girls in bed?”

  “Yeah, so far.”

  He started off with random question about work.

  “So Brooke said Vanessa finally left. How do you feel now?”

  “What? As far as the workload? It sucks. Everyone else is way behind too though, so at least it’s not just me. Or did you mean how I feel about you? Because that sucks too.”

  “No, I meant Vanessa. I’m pretty clear on the you and me thing.”

  “Well, that makes one of us.”

  “Babe…” he sighed, “I told you to give me 30 days.”

  “Let me direct your attention to the nearest calendar so that you can see we had this discussion on October 26th. It is now November 26th. You might also note that there are 31 days in October.”

  “Oh, sorry. I guess I was thinking I still had until the end of the month.”

  “That would be incorrect, sir.”

  “Haha… You are a tough cookie, you know that?”

  “Even so, there are four days left in the current month. Are you planning on filing for divorce in the next four days or perhaps planning to push your wife in front of a bus by any chance? Because otherwise, four days is probably not going to make much difference.”

  “Oh my God. I hope you never lose your sense of humor,” he said with a chuckle. “I miss our banter, you know…”

  “Good. Miss anything else?”

  “Ah, sweetie, you know I do,” he said softly.

  “No, I don’t, Matt. You won’t tell me.”

  “I miss everything… the way we talk, the way you make me laugh, the way you make love…”

  “But…”

  “But, just as you said, I’m not able to make any moves right now with the holidays. Thanksgiving was definitely a struggle for me with her, but at the same time I loved having the rest of my family around. So, I’m in sort of a holding pattern, I guess. I’m sorry. I wanted to be able to tell you something different by now.”

  “No, that’s basically what I expected you to say. You know I’m coming down next week, same as before, on Friday.”

  “No, you didn’t tell me that.”

  “Well, I just did.”

  “Ok, that’s the 7th, right?”

  “Yes. I just need you to let me know if I need to set aside some time for you.”

  “Is it okay if I get back to you on that?”

  “Do whatever you gotta do, dear,” I sighed.

  “Okay, I’ll let you know soon.”

  His birthday was at the end of the week. He reminded me and his co-workers several times of its impending arrival. I wasn’t going to be a jerk and not acknowledge it like some people, but I wasn’t going to rush to do it first thing either. I sent him a message shortly before lunch. Happy Birthday, Mr. Wynne.

  Well thx Mal!!! I feel old.

  You are old.

  Damn straight. Where are my diapers?

  There you go, getting senile and forgetting where you put stuff again. You know what’s funny? My 60 year old momma is a texting fool on her new iPhone 5 but we couldn’t learn you.

  Your mom is a 21st. century babe.

  Hopefully I didn’t inherit my sexting talents from her.

  LMAO. Probably best we don’t find out the answer!

  Later that afternoon, Brooke told me that he brought in a homemade carrot cake to share with everyone in the office. I got a sudden strange feeling about this cake. She thought I was nuts.

  “What do you mean he brought in a cake?”

  “Um, just what I said, dummy. That shit was BANGIN’.”

  “Was it a whole uncut cake or like leftover?”

  “It was a whole cake.”

  “He brought in a homemade cake for his own birthday? He baked himself a cake?”

  “No, he said one of his biker friends made it for him. He picked it up at lunch.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “You don’t think that’s odd?”

  “Naw, it was good!”

  “No, I mean, if someone makes you a whole cake, and you get it in the middle of the day, why would you bring it to your co-workers? Wouldn’t you take it home to your family to celebrate with them? Unless you don’t want your wife to know someone else made you a cake.”

  “You think?”

  “Brooke, you know I love to bake, and I can promise you I am not about to make any man a homemade carrot cake unless I’m fucking him. That’s not like opening up a box of Betty Crocker. By the way, that reminds me, have you seen the Snot Rocket anywhere recently?”

  “Yeah, she’s been here.”

  “WHAT?!?”

  “What?”

  “I told you he told me she went back to Ukraine!”

  “Nah, she’s been here. I see her car in the parking deck most days.”

  “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME?!?”

  “Huh?”

  “You were supposed to tell me if you saw her! He told me she moved back to Ukraine and I knew he was lying!”

  “What the hell? Oh my gosh! I’m sorry! I thought you just meant she had gone back for a few weeks or something! I know I didn’t see her for maybe a week or two but I totally misunderstood what you said! No, she has definitely NOT moved back, but she doesn’t come around up here either that I’ve seen.”

  “Well, that explains the cake then, huh?”

  “Um, no. Ain’t no way that scrawny little weirdo can bake like that. I really don’t think it was her. People here know her; she’s a ‘friend of the family.’ I think he would have just said she made it.”

  “I swear to God, Brooke. He just gets more shady with every passing day.”

  “I’m sorry. I really am, friend.”

  By Monday, he had made no attempt to discuss where he and I stood and I felt certain he was going to tell me he couldn’t see me on Friday anyway. He sent me a very innocent text in the early afternoon.

  Hey, how is your day? You running at 3?

  I answered in typical "Seinfeld" fashion. All right, time’s up. No soup for you on Friday.

  LOL… I will find the recipes in the armoire. :)

  Seriously, Matt, you don’t want to, so you don’t have to. You are
free, my dear. Peace out.

  I would like to see you and maybe hang out for a while but not anything else right now.

  I don’t think that’s a good idea.

  Let’s talk today.

  I’m in the locker room, getting ready to run, be back later.

  I didn’t hear another word all day which made my head explode. For the love… it was his idea to talk! I sent him an admittedly shitty text right at dinnertime. Um, or not?

  Sorry I was waiting for a text that you were back, I went to work out and now I’m home, can I call you at 8:30 or 9 tmrw?

  Sure Matt, I’m actually still on the treadmill, 4 hours later. I don’t know what else needs to be said. Pretty clear cut if you ask me.

  I was pretty busy late today so my bad… again. And yeah I guess, I just thought we were more than just casual friends. A convo would get us on the same page.

  It never gets us on the same page. How have I ever treated you like a casual friend?! That’s crazy talk. But if you find me too hideous to sleep with, well, it’s only downhill from there. I just think you could have spared me the last month of BS and been upfront. Not this “well, maybe once I figure myself out, I’ll be calling you and wanting to see you” stuff. It makes it hard to just be friends or anything with you when I feel like you just want to play games with my heart.

  I am NOT playing games. I am having the hardest time of my life and I thought you would understand and be there for me.

  How have I not been there for you? HOW? Jesus man, I was trying to be there for you on Friday but YOU DON’T WANT ME. Do you understand how difficult it would be for me to see you and not be able to kiss you and touch you and not even understand why? How difficult it was for me the last time you were here? I swear to God, I think I’m a glutton for punishment.

  I understand all of that. I am just tired of sneaking around and want to change that. I’m sorry you are caught in the middle.

  I never forced you to choose. I still don’t think you will ever leave her. But I really miss the way we were, and you don’t seem to miss me at all. You don’t even seem like the same person anymore. I don’t know who you are. If you were never that serious about me, then fine. You are entitled to how you feel, but own it. Unfortunately for me, I fell very hard for that sweet and flirty guy back in the summer and now I’m having a hard time moving on because I keep hoping he’s still in there. But maybe he never existed. Believe me, I do not want to be stuck on you anymore, I’m trying to date as many people as humanly possible to forget you, actually. I hope we can salvage our friendship, but right now, it’s just too difficult for me.