by Anthology
My fingertips grazed his chin where the beginning of peach fuzz was starting to form and I sighed outwardly, scooting in closer and moving nose-to-nose with him. He was utterly beautiful, and I couldn’t help thanking the heavens that we’d found each other.
His phone rang on the dresser next to him. When it stopped, it buzzed with a text. Unable to help myself, I glanced at Brian, dead-as-a-log asleep, and ever so discretely slipped out of bed.
Geez, Louise, did the floors have to creak when I walked? I swore they never did before and of course, since I wanted to play sneaky-pants, every sound I made seemed amplified in my tiny apartment.
Quickly, I seized the phone and unlocked it. Guilt ate at my insides, but I didn't care. I needed to squash this insecurity once and for all.
I clutched the phone tighter between my hands and utter dread filled my veins. Not believing what I was seeing, I hunched over the phone as my vision blurred. My hand flew to my stomach as though I'd been punched in the gut.
It was from her.
I gritted my teeth, heat forming behind my eyes, an indication that I would cry any minute. You'd think I would’ve been ready for this. I shouldn't have been surprised. But I was.
Ashley: I always love seeing you, Brian. I just have so much fun when we’re together. Can’t wait to do it again. I'll see you later. I'll meet you around 1 instead of noon.
Ugh! Her and her damn smiley emoticons. ‘Love seeing you’? How much have they seen each other recently? I stuck my tongue out at the phone, real mature-like.
When Brian stirred, I dropped the phone where I'd just picked it up and slipped back into bed. The text would be seen as read, and I had to pretend to be sleeping.
As time ticked by slowly...ever so slowly...all the memories we shared replayed like a movie in my mind. I wondered where we had failed this relationship. I wondered why I wasn't enough.
But maybe this was me. All these insecurities from my first boyfriend came rushing back to me. How could this happen to a girl, twice? It wasn’t like Brian had ‘cheater’ written all over him.
After all, I had picked the good boy, right?
* * *
Thirty minutes later, warm hands pulled me in, spooning me from behind. I didn't move, let alone breathe. I was coming into the realization of what was happening. All the signs. My gut feeling that he had been lying to me about Ashley. I should’ve trusted it all along.
He kissed my neck, his hard length pressing against me. If he thought he was going to get morning nookie, he was dead wrong.
"I'm tired," I said, flipping over.
His lips trailed kisses up my neck, to my ear, while his hands traced a sensual pattern over my stomach, sending the butterflies inside into a frenzy.
"Need sleep," I said, pulling away. My voice sounded drowsy, which was good. Defeat filled me, not drowsiness. My head was spinning, making me feel sick.
"Okay, princess," he replied sweetly. "I shall grant you sleep. I'm allowing you rest this morning." I heard the huskiness in his voice. "You'll need your energy for tonight."
Normally, I'd laugh, but not then. Maybe never again, and that saddened me. My lips pulled downward and I pushed my face into the pillow, willing myself not to cry. I hadn’t cried yet, and I'd be damned if the waterworks started at that moment, right in front of his cheating ass.
The sheets rustled beside me as he slipped out of bed. I heard him pick up his phone, and I held my breath. The only sounds echoing through my ears were my strong heartbeat racing through my chest.
"I'm going to hop in the shower. I have errands to run."
A small tremor shook my body. Errands, my ass. He was a liar.
I popped up, faster than a girl pretending to be tired was supposed to. I wasn't a great actress, and I wasn't a good liar, unlike other people. "Where are you heading before that? Do you want to do brunch?"
"Brunch?" He scratched the top of his head. "Uh, I can't. I have to run an errand before lunch."
I wanted to yell and call him out on his lie. I wanted to expose him for what he was——a cheat. Did I even know him at all?
Our eyes locked, and a lump formed in my throat. There was no regret or guilt in the span of blue staring back at me. He simply smiled and inched closer, while I swallowed down the bile that crept up my throat.
"I'll see you tonight." He leaned in to kiss me and when our lips met, for once I didn't feel an ounce of warmth at our connection.
* * *
As soon as he stepped out of the shower, I feigned sleep. I didn't want to pretend anymore. I didn't want to talk to him, afraid of more lies that would leak out of his mouth.
But as soon as he stepped out and the door to my apartment shut, I raced to the back of my closet and threw on my paint-splattered clothes I hadn’t worn since I decorated my apartment.
The jeans were obscenely baggy, and I had used a belt to keep it from slipping off. The sweatshirt was ratted and torn at the edges, pink and yellow paint splattered on the front. Then I grabbed a Chicago Bears baseball cap that hung behind the door, threw on my down jacket, and rushed down the stairs, barely breathing. My lungs were working overtime as I rushed outside, my eyes scanning until I spotted him at the corner, by the stop light, phone out and texting.
My hands fisted at my sides as I moved discretely toward him, head down. Going incognito. This was a first.
He walked to the subway, and I trailed behind him. I probably looked homeless in this silly getup, but I didn’t care about my appearance. My adrenaline spiked when he turned around, and I pressed myself flush against the building wall, pretending to stare at my phone.
And then he advanced again to his destination, and I quickly fell in step behind him. He turned a corner and bile rose to the top of my throat as he stopped in front of Florence's Flowers, a trendy flower shop in our area.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek. It wasn't my birthday, nor was it our anniversary. I didn't want to think crazy thoughts, but I couldn't help but think the flowers he was about to order were for her.
Before I knew what I was doing, I charged across the street and into the flower shop. Thankfully, it was filled with patrons while Brian waited patiently in line. He was checking his phone again, not texting me because my phone wasn’t buzzing.
I bit my tongue, hard enough to feel pain. I hated that I was acting like this. I'd turned into that girlfriend, the woman I’d been in my past relationship. The crazy bitch who felt so insecure it consumed me.
I wanted to think the best. I wanted to hope and wish he was buying roses for me, just because, but I knew. In my gut, I knew he wasn't.
I tipped my hat low and hid behind the card rack, picking up a Christmas card and using it as a shield. I could tell by the body language of the young woman at the counter that she was flirting with Brian. He bent down to write something on the yellow order form in front of him and curiosity heightened within me.
I heard him say, "Three dozen roses."
I tried to think of the significance of three dozen roses. We'd only been together a years and some months.
He reached into his back pocket for his credit card and paid for his purchase, while I ducked farther into the holiday card, not wanting to be discovered. The card was of an almost-naked woman on the inside, a mistletoe hiding her hoo-hah. If the moment weren’t so serious, I would’ve laughed. Of all the cards I had to pick...
When I heard the jingle of the door, I rushed to the front of the line, wanting to see the woman writing on the yellow piece of paper, finishing up Brian's order. People hissed behind me, but I didn't care.
I shoved the card in front of the woman. "Sorry, I'm in a hurry. This is for my boyfriend." She looked up and scanned my outfit, probably wondering if I didn't have a girlfriend instead. I looked like a homeless dude in oversized clothing.
"I'm sorry, there’s a line." She pointed to the back where three more people were filed behind me.
I peered at the yellow paper underneath her perfectly pretty-in-
pink manicured fingernails. The name. I needed her name or where the flowers were to be delivered. That was all.
I turned around and smiled big, flipping around my hat so everyone could see my face. Maybe I looked less menacing. "Sorry, I'm late for work. One more tardy slip and they'll fire me."
Snickers of 'I don't care' echoed behind me, but like them, I didn't care.
"Please. This card and I need to order flowers, too." My eyes zoned in on the yellow paper once again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the writing.
Miss Pleasant huffed and flipped over the notebook. Damn.
"Who are the flowers for?"
Shit. I couldn't exactly order Brian flowers from the same flower shop I’d followed him to.
"Kendy Miller," I spit out.
"What do you want to order?"
"A dozen white roses."
"Cash or charge?"
"Charge."
"And who's the name on the credit card?"
"Uh...Kendy Miller."
Her eyes came up and she cocked her head, obviously confused.
My face flushed red. Damn it.
Yes. She had heard me correctly. I was ordering flowers for myself.
"Who are the flowers for again?" Her eyebrows pulled together.
Oh, hell. I smiled politely and grabbed her pen and yellow piece of paper.
"Hey!" she protested.
"I think it's easier if I fill it out."
I flipped to the page before and was blinded by her name in nice, cursive letters.
Delivery for Ashley Jennings.
I staggered back as I stared blankly at the woman in front of me. A ringing intensified in my ears as my temperature elevated to where I might pass out. Before I knew what was happening, before she could ream me out for being so rude, before I heard the snickers and complaints from the patrons behind me, tears flooded my eyes as my body quivered with tremors.
Her face registered shock, and then she stretched her hand out, looking concerned. "Are you okay?"
I cupped my mouth with one hand, turned, and ran out the door. My Uggs sloshed against the ground as cold rain poured down around me. I didn't know where I was going, nor did I care. The hat I had on flew off my head, but I couldn’t care less. I ran past my apartment, past people on their way to work, past the subway, past all the restaurants, until I entered the park.
The brisk air and the freezing rain chilled my cheeks, but I welcomed the numbness. I kept on running until my legs were sore from exhaustion and my chest hurt from exertion. My soaking-wet pants clung to my legs but I kept on going. When I almost tripped, I halted, noting I was at the bench we’d been at mere days before.
He wouldn't cheat on you...Beth said. I love you beyond words...he said.
I was still trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, to reason with myself that this was Brian Benson, the all-American boy with the kindest heart and sweetest personality. Never in a million years would he cheat on me.
Even after all the warning signs, I was trying to reason with myself that he loved me. But I couldn’t make myself believe it. Because I had believed him. I had believed all the lies he’d spewed when I’d voiced my insecurities about Ashley.
But I couldn't deny it anymore. I couldn't pretend this was not happening to me purely because I didn't want to see it.
Brian Benson, the love of my freaking life, was cheating on me with Ashley Jennings.
And I'd never forgive him for it.
* * *
There are many stages a woman goes through when she finds out she’s been cheated on, and I knew them all. Of course I did. This was the second time I’d gone through it.
First was the denial, which I had absolutely went through. The signs were clearly there in front of me, though I had refused to see them.
The flirty texts from Ashley.
Him meeting Ashley and lying to me about it.
The fact that he had lied to me about flying back home to Wisconsin when he really went out of town to Chicago for work. Probably with her.
And the nail in the coffin was finding out he ordered flowers for that little wench.
With the denial came the ultimate belief that I could be the best girlfriend ever. That's why I’d been screwing his brains out every day for the past week, so he would be too tired to get his shit up if she tried to seduce him.
But I knew my man, and I knew his stamina, and though I tried all I could, I couldn't keep him from straying.
After the denial came the grief. Utter, inconsolable grief at the end of what I thought would be forever.
Lying in bed, I wiped the tears flowing down my face as I tore through my second box of tissues. I hadn't called Beth yet. She would tell me I was obviously super-ridiculous and there had to be a good reason the sheet had said Ashley instead of me.
I mean, whose side was she on, anyway?
That night, I told Brian I was sick, that I didn't want to see him because I didn't want to get him sick. I should’ve known better when I heard my front door open. He was the only one who had a key, after all.
I jolted up and wiped my eyes with the edge of the blanket when I heard the fridge open. It sounded like he was sorting through items in the kitchen as my cabinets and fridge banged open and shut.
In a panic, I picked up the clouds of tissue at my feet, threw them in the trash can, and jumped into bed before shutting my eyes tightly.
The door creaked as he entered. "Kendy?"
I heard the metal ting of a spoon against a cup, indicating he had made me a drink. I didn't have to guess what it was because the waft of chocolate morsels made their way to my nostrils. Since we’d been dating, Brian had perfected his hot cocoa, just for me. It was different than my mother's, but signature to Brian. Hot chocolate always made me feel better and it always reminded me of where I'd come from, my small town of Bowlesville.
I thought Brian was my home now.
I guess I was dead wrong.
A lump formed in my throat, and I couldn't help it as a sob escaped me. I stifled a cry into the pillow, causing Brian to rush to my side.
He placed the hot cocoa on my side table and sat at the edge of my bed. Bending down, he brushed my matted hair away from my face. "Are you okay? Kendy?" He leaned in closer as I opened my eyes. "You've been crying." It wasn’t a question. He knew.
Lifting me up, he cradled me against his chest. Against my better judgement, I molded in his arms, a spot which I had believed was only mine until that day.
"Princess, what's the matter? What happened?" His voice and his eyes leaked with concern. And in that moment, I knew he loved me. There was no doubt.
But why wasn't I enough? Why did he need a girl on the side?
I stifled another cry, that time into his chest as tears flooded my face, wetting his cotton shirt.
I love you.
I shook my head into his shirt, hugging him closer toward me. It was no wonder the majority of women who'd been cheated on always blamed the other girl. They couldn't fathom that it could quite possibly be their significant other. Someone else had snuck in and taken their loved ones. But I wasn't that blind. I knew it took two to tango.
"Tell me. Whatever it is, I'll fix it," he said with such certainty.
He could fix this. He could just stop whatever relationship he'd started with her. It was at the tip of my tongue, but I couldn't get it out.
"Our dog died." I held my breath, the tears automatically ceasing as my own answer surprised me.
"Dog?" He frowned. "I didn't know you had a dog."
I didn't, either. Where the hell had that come from? "My mom's dog." I nodded. In any other situation, this would’ve been comical, but it wasn't.
"When did your mom get a dog?" His eyes flew to the ceiling, most likely wondering where the hell we’d hid the dog the previous Christmas or the last time we’d visited Bowlesville during my mother's birthday.
The lies kept spilling out like diarrhea. "She just got a dog. Last week." By that point, the t
ears had ceased and I averted my gaze, afraid he'd see the lie.
"When?" He shook his head. "What happened?"
"It got run over by a car." My chest tightened as the guilt of this never-ending lie kept on growing like Pinocchio's nose. My head fell into my hands, and just when I thought I'd retract everything I just said, I realized this small lie, though we never lied to each other, was nothing compared to his own deception.
"Did you meet the dog?" His voice was careful, reserved.
I peered up at his face, the face of the man who'd been lying to me for who knew how long, and tears pushed to the surface again. "No," I sobbed, dropping my head into my hands again.
He held me tighter, and I sensed he was holding his breath. When he exhaled, he started to chuckle slowly, and then his chest expanded as uncontrollable laughter escaped him. "Sorry. I'm sorry." He tried to stop, but he failed. "It's just that you haven't even met the dog. How can you be this broken up over it?"
He lifted my chin, his eyes dancing with humor, and I shook my head again because this whole scenario was plain dumb. Supposedly, I was crying over a dog I'd never met, one I'd made up in my head. I hoped he wouldn't ask me what the dog looked like. Or its name.
He cupped the side of my face, grazing his thumb against my cheek. The touch was light, but it didn't dull the energy his fingertips sent through my body.
He ducked, forcing our eyes to meet. "I've never seen you so upset. Don't worry, princess. I'll buy you a dog. Just stop crying." He kissed my forehead. "You're so damn cute, you know that?"
I reached for his hand and tugged it down, gripping it like it was my lifeline. "It isn't enough," I blurted, not meaning to be so honest.
He frowned. "What?"
"Me being cute."
He took both hands in mine. "You're enough. You. Cute. Smart. Beautiful. You're more than enough."
I begged him with my eyes, trying to see some truth in his words. "Tell me you love me. Tell me we're it."
He pulled back, his smile never wavering. "Kendy, where is this coming from?"