by Betsy Anne
A LOVE WE DESERVE
BOOK TWO IN THE TRUE LOVE SERIES
BETSY ANNE
Other Books by Betsy Anne
MINE, NOT HERS
BOOK ONE IN THE TRUE LOVE SERIES
Text Copyright 2015 Betsy Anne
All Rights Reserved
This book is dedicated to my loving parents, Stan and Mary Ann,
who have always made me feel like I could do anything.
I love you both with all my heart.
Chapter 1
I can’t believe how much he reeks of her, whoever “her” is this time. White Diamonds cologne, I think my grandma wore that, and a foul smelling hootchie. God only knows if she’s diseased. Good thing he and I haven’t had sex in, well, I can’t remember when the last time was. I wish he showed me a tiny bit of respect by at least showering the sex smell off before he comes home. Benny, our golden retriever, smells it on him, too. His nose is up in Chris’ crotch as soon as he walks in the door. He used to care more about hiding the evidence of his trysts, but recently it’s like he’s trying to slap me in the face with it.
What can I say? I was once the “other woman,” too. Of course, I was unaware of that status since the subject of a wife never came up. Isn’t there an old saying once a cheater, always a cheater? I guess it’s true. I feel so stupid.
“Nice of you to call, Chris.”
I huff as I rise from the sofa and head to the kitchen to refill my wine glass. He looks indignant, as usual.
“I told you I was going to be late. You were aware of that, so no need to call to tell you something you already knew. Big client meetings all week. I’ll be late again tomorrow as well, so I won’t need the third degree from you then either.”
Asshole. I guess his “big meeting” with the grandma with gonorrhea went so well he has to go back. Whatever. I made my big lonely bed; I guess I have to lie in it. One of these evenings, I’ll summon the courage to tell him to go straight to hell and not bother calling when he gets there. If it weren’t for our boys, I would have been gone long ago. Who am I kidding? If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, we wouldn’t have lasted longer than a few weeks. Telling a man you’re pregnant after only a few weeks of screwing isn’t the easiest thing in the world, but when he comes back with an “I’m married,” that’s even harder.
He heads up to bed, and, hopefully to shower, and I plop back down on the sofa; wine glass full to the top. I feel like calling Katie, but I don’t want to disturb her and Jason this late. Katie is my neighbor and best friend in the world. We only met a short time ago, but I feel as if I’ve known her my entire life. She and her family moved into the house two doors down from us. An elderly woman had lived there for fifty years. After she died, her son remodeled the house from top to bottom, inside and out. Jason snapped it up pretty quick. Our neighborhood is beautiful, but there aren’t all that many kids around and it’s hard when my boys want to run and play.
The day I saw the moving truck, I was so excited. A minivan followed the truck, and I saw two kids, a boy and a girl, get out. My boys ran right over and introduced themselves. That gave her and me an excuse to talk right away. I offered to let her kids stay at our house while the movers did their thing. We’ve stayed by each other’s side ever since.
She and her husband, Jason, were high-school sweethearts. Whenever I’m around the two of them together, I can feel the love between them. It’s a very intimate relationship. He adores her like nothing I’ve ever seen before, and she him. They went through a terrible time over the past year. A crazy woman had been stalking Jason for years, and it all came to a head. He had been trying to protect Katie and the kids, but the woman wouldn’t take no for an answer. Poor Katie went through hell trying to find out what was going on. The two of them made it through and are even closer than they were before. I know for a fact that my marriage could never have survived such a nightmare. Now I wonder if my marriage can survive another week.
Chris barely spends time with our three boys as it is, but if he were out of the house, I know they would rarely see him. He is so self-absorbed that unless you’re right under his nose, he forgets about you. I guess that’s how he can cheat so easily. No guilty conscience to get in the way. I struggle with the divorce decision everyday. Is it better to have a “dad” who’s barely around but still married to your mom, or one dedicated parent no longer making lame excuses for the other? Boys are so impressionable, and as they get older they may notice the details and mimic his lying and cheating. Boys want to be like their dad, even when their dad’s a complete jerk. I don’t know what to do.
For now I head to the guestroom, which is now my bedroom, to try to get some rest. The wine has made me sleepy, but has also given me a major headache. I pop a handful of Advil PM and pray for sleep. Asshole.
When I wake up, my head is pounding even harder than it was last night. I don’t think I ate dinner last night, come to think of it. The boys went to my sister-in-law’s house for pizza and a sleepover around 6. All I remember is waiting for Chris. He never told me that he was going to be late; he’s so full of shit. I was hoping we would have a chance to eat, just the two of us, and talk. He’s been on the road continually for about three weeks, and he never calls when he’s gone. I don’t think we’ve had a conversation of more than five sentences in months. I’ve hit my limit.
I go upstairs to freshen up and see if he’ll sit down with me for coffee. I open the door to the bedroom, and he’s gone. What the fuck. Gone? It’s Saturday fucking morning, where could he have gone? I call his cell, and he picks up quick.
“Mel, what do you need?”
Cold as a rotten, stinking fish.
“Where are you? I thought we could spend some time together today.”
“I told you, Melanie, I have clients here. I have to go now.”
Click.
His voice was dripping with condescension. My name oozed out of his mouth slowly like he was speaking to someone who couldn’t compute two plus two. He clearly has no respect for me anymore, and why would he? He’s been obviously trying to get me to leave him, and I haven’t taken the bait. Well, this must be his lucky day.
A strange sense of calm washes over me. I’ve made the decision to leave my husband, and I know it’s right. I’ve pled for years to go to counseling and spend more time together. He resisted all of it. Truth be told, he thought he was screwing a young assistant and could wash his hands of her when he’d had his fill. I know he never envisioned a house in the suburbs, three kids and a second nagging wife. Definitely not in his life plan. I ignored the red flags that were warning me that he wouldn’t be in it for the long haul. I had wanted so badly for it to work, I fooled myself for way too long.
I need to talk to Katie. I skip calling, and run over to her house. I knock on the back door, and Jason answers.
“Hey, beautiful, what’s up?”
I realize he’s being sarcastic, especially since I know I look worse than whatever the cat puked up, but I know it’s just in fun. He has a huge, perfect-teeth smile and is one of the most gorgeous specimens God ever put on this planet. Katie’s not jealous, we kid about it all the time. Women gawk at him like crazy everywhere we go. I’m trying hard not to stare because he’s not wearing a shirt and he resembles a statue of a Greek god. Jesus Christ.
Katie gets up from the table, and swats his butt.
“Go put some clothes on before she melts on the garage floor, will you?”
We all laugh, and she gives me a giant bear hug. Right away she knows something’s wrong. Her face is full of concern.
“What’s wrong, Mel? Tell me, I can see it in your eyes.”
She pulls me into the house, and I see Jason come back downstairs with a shirt on. I can’t help but laug
h.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, you’re safe with me,” I say to him with a laugh in my voice.
“It’s me I’m worried about when you’re around, babe!”
He pretends to clutch his heart, and fall back. He laughs again, and gives Katie a huge kiss.
“I’m going for a run, sweetheart. You girls look like you may need some privacy.”
He kisses the top of Katie’s head, and pats me on the back. Jeez, can they clone this one? Katie turns her attention back to me.
“OK, now, what’s going on?”
“I’ve decided to leave Chris. I can’t take it anymore, Katie. The lies and indifference are killing me. He came home last night smelling so bad of twat it almost made me sick. God help me, but I have to get out. If my boys learn to treat women like their dad does, it would kill me. I, no, we, deserve more than that asshole.”
I get it all out before the tears begin. She scoots her chair closer to mine, and holds my hand while I cry. I’m not sure how long my boo-hoo session lasts, but at the end I feel all cried out. I’m determined to never cry over him ever again.
We discuss the “how to do it” for a while, and I know that I should treat it like ripping off a Band-Aid. No apologies, no excuses. Pack him up, and throw him out. One and done. Now’s the perfect time since the boys are at their aunt’s house. I adore Chris’ sister. She talks more crap about him than anyone. She knows what a jerk he is, and I know I’ll have her support.
Katie and I go to my house to start packing his things. He has some clothes, and a few books but everything that means anything to him is in his office. He never helped me decorate the house. I look around and don’t see one item I think he would want. Katie and I carry three large suitcases down the stairs, and set them by the front door.
“Now I wait, I guess. I have no idea what his plans are today.”
She looks at me with sadness. There’s not a moment when she and Jason don’t know where the other is. They are kind and respectful of one another. I would kill to have a fraction of that in my life. As luck would have it, the front door opens. Timing is everything.
“Forgot my glasses. Hello, Katie.” he says with as much warmth as a polar bear’s ass. His foot catches the first suitcase, and he looks down. The expression on his face indicates he understands exactly what’s happening. He looks like he’s won the lottery. He catches himself, and rights his expression appropriately. Now he appears stunned and upset.
“Is this what I think it is? Are you leaving me?”
“Take a closer look, Chris, those are your bags. Technically, you’re leaving me. I want you out as soon as possible.”
He pauses for a moment, then walks over and kisses my cheek.
“OK. I’ll draw up the papers.”
That was it. That’s all he had to say. I guess he’s had that stored in his mind for when the time finally came. He didn’t mention the boys, or custody. My heart is breaking. Not for the loss of his sorry behind, but for three great kids whose father doesn’t give enough of a shit to mention them. They deserve so much better. Sadly, their lives really won’t change much. They rarely see him now as it is.
He picks up his bags and walks out. I look over at Katie and tears are flowing down her face.
“Why are you crying?” I ask as she’s staring off into the void Chris just left. She looks over at me, horrified.
“Oh, Mel, that was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to watch. Doesn’t he care at all?”
She comes over and hugs me tight. I feel great. I feel a smile forming already. She pulls back, sensing that I’m happy.
“Are you OK? You look a little crazy right now with that joker smile on your face.”
“I’m really OK Katie. I can’t believe I waited this long to free myself. I’m going to be just fine.”
Chapter 2
Katie offers to stay with me, but I feel like I need to be alone. My kids are out of the house, and my husband is gone. I feel like I should check the floors for skid marks, he left so fast. Life can change suddenly: In the blink of an eye, your world can turn upside down. You hope that you’re the one in control. The only thing I know for sure right now is that I don’t need or want pity. I need strength and resilience.
I’ve had only two serious relationships in my life, Chris, and my boyfriend, Jeff, in college. They both ended in an eerily similar way. Jeff and I met our sophomore year at the University of Georgia. We had an English lit class together. He was really good-looking, and I noticed him Day One. I didn’t think he knew I existed until one day after class he approached me. He was direct and said that he thought I was pretty, and he’d love to take me out sometime. I hadn’t dated very much in high school, so when he asked me out I was thrilled.
We were both from small towns in Georgia, and loved the same music and movies. To me, that meant we’d be together forever. I thought that was the way life worked. You met your future spouse in college, got married after graduation and lived happily ever after. At least that’s the way it was in my family. My parents met at college, as did my cousins and my friends. The only exception was my younger sister, Becca. She moved to New York after high school graduation to be an actress/model. She changed her name from Becca Grubbs, my gross maiden name, to Rebecca London. I know she’ll make it big. She’s talented, and being a knockout redhead with a killer body doesn’t hurt either.
Jeff and I were inseparable all the way to graduation. Looking back, I should have mixed in more friendships with girls, but he liked me to be with him all the time. He’d get insanely jealous if I went out with my roommates, so I didn’t bother. He was offered a job in Chicago after we graduated. I had always planned on going to business school for my MBA, and Chicago offered some excellent choices. I thought it would be perfect. Of course, I imagined us returning to Georgia; no one ever leaves for good.
We got a small apartment in the city. He was working for an engineering firm, and making good money. I was an administrative assistant at a high-profile investment-banking firm while I took classes. Everything was going great. Until…
I got sick at work one afternoon, and left early to go home. I heard noise coming from our apartment as I neared the front door. No mistaking what that was. My hand was shaking so hard that I dropped my keys twice. My stomach was cramping and I needed to get to the bathroom immediately. I got the door open, and ran past our bedroom into the bathroom. In my sickness haze, I saw Jeff and a woman standing naked at the bathroom door staring down at me; they had tried to cover themselves with the bedsheet.
“Uh… you OK?”
That was the only thing he could say. After I slammed the door in their faces with my foot, he shouted louder through the door.
“Melanie, what’s wrong? Can I help?”
“Go fuck yourself, Jeff!” I screamed with the last bit of strength I had. I heard some hushed whispering, then the front door closed softly. I cried myself to sleep right there on the bathroom floor.
When I woke the next morning, my stomach was feeling a little better. I climbed into the shower, and let the warm steam refresh my aching head and body. Jeff heard my rousing, and knocked on the door.
“Baby, can we talk when you’re finished? I can explain everything.”
I remember thinking, yeah, I’ll just bet he could. Jeff was a master at wordplay. Five minutes into any argument, he could make you believe everything was not only all your fault, but that you should apologize to him for getting upset. He really missed his calling to go into law. I wrapped myself in two towels, and another one around my wet hair. I didn’t want him seeing any part of me. I still hadn’t looked him in the face since all this had gone down.
I opened the door, and found him in the living room at his desk. He slowly rose and walked over to me. He didn’t look sad or upset, just a little scared.
“Are you all right? Can I get you anything?”
“No, I’m OK. Just some bad Chinese, I think. So… what’s up?”
I was trying to stand
tall and fierce but I just couldn’t pull it off. My poor body was wrecked, and my head hurt. He looked down at the ground before he started to speak.
“I’m in love, Mel. Her name is Meghan; she works at my firm. I met her when I first came up for the interviews, and something just sparked between us. I can’t explain it any better than that. We thought it was best to follow our instincts and see where it would lead. I didn’t want to change our plans to move here together in case it turned out to be just a fling. I feel strongly enough about her to let you know the truth. I want to marry her.”
To say I was floored is putting it mildly. I didn’t know what to say. How does one respond to something that cruel? No apology, or at least a heads-up before I moved eight hundred miles from my family and friends. All I could think about was where I was going to live. I had a job and was in the middle of my MBA program. I couldn’t face the harsh reality of what he was saying to me. I needed a place to go. I got dressed and went to school. On a corkboard in one of the outdoor kiosks, was a flyer for a roommate needed, and I called her right away. It was a great set-up. She needed someone to sublet her former roommate’s room while she was studying abroad. She was rarely home herself because she was a med student with crazy hours. It was like I had a place of my own.
I went back to our place only once, to get my stuff. I ignored his calls and never told him where I moved. I heard later that they did get married, then divorced pretty quickly thereafter. His mom tried to get my mom to contact me on his behalf because he wanted to get back together. She told me that she told his mom to eat shit in her perfect southern drawl and hung up the phone. I wish I could have been there to hear it.
So there I was, in a still unfamiliar town, stuck with school and a job. I didn’t want to return to my hometown with my tail between my legs. I had too much pride for that. I resolved to finish my degree, and move to Atlanta. It was close enough to home, but large enough to lose myself in. My plan was rock solid. No dating, no social life, nothing but school and work. I needed a break from men and was looking forward to it.