While we are waiting for our food, I feel like I am being stared at. I glance around the diner. There is a younger, decent looking guy sitting at the counter trying to discreetly watch me. I’m startled at first. I quietly tell Taylor about the guy and she inconspicuously checks him out. Both Taylor and I suspect that he’s a reporter and is just trying to get more info on me. The guy leaves after a while without talking to me or taking my picture. So maybe he is not a reporter. Maybe he just recognizes me from the tabloids.
I finish my breakfast first, so I start looking around the diner, making sure the guy didn’t come back. I don’t see him but I do notice a woman sitting by herself, not paying particular attention to anyone. She looks like the rude woman from Las Vegas who pushed me out of the way when Ryan and I were at the mall. I quickly turn back to Taylor. She’s still talking and eating her breakfast and doesn’t notice my startled look. That can’t be the woman from Las Vegas, can it? She looks exactly like her. It can’t be. I dismiss her as a look-a-like, besides what are the chances that the same woman is in Kansas City.
But both experiences leave me feeling creeped out and uncomfortable. I try to ignore the feeling. It’s not like either of them did anything to me at the diner. The woman did not even look at me. As much as I tell myself it’s nothing, the nagging feeling of ‘something’s wrong’ sticks with me.
Taylor and I get back to my house, walk up the porch steps to the front door and find a single red rose laying on the welcome mat in front of it. There is no note and no one is around. Both of us are baffled. I assume it is from Ryan.
“Aww, Ryan’s so sweet,” I say.
“Would a florist really deliver just a single rose?” Taylor wonders.
“I guess so,” I answer. “If that’s what they were paid to do. And I bet he tipped them a lot, too.”
Taylor snorts. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”
Picking up the red rose, I shrug, take a deep sniff of it and take it inside to put into a vase. I will have to ask Ryan about the rose when I talk to him later.
To keep myself busy while I wait for Craig to call or try to stop by, I decide to clean the house. It’s a mess from trying to pack up everything of Craig’s so quickly yesterday. Taylor insists on staying with me until I hear from Craig. And informs me that at that point she will decide if she’s staying the night again. Apparently, my opinion doesn’t matter, unless I ask her to stay. Since she is here, Taylor helps me clean up, too.
A while later, I tell Taylor I am surprised I haven’t heard from Craig. I’m sure Marc has told Craig by now. Plus, his flight landed almost two hours ago, barring any delays. A couple minutes later my phone rings. I know before I even look that it that it’s Craig. Taylor is right there when I answer. I put it on speaker so she can hear him, too.
“Hello Craig.”
“Sssso thisss is how it’sss going to be?” he slurs.
Oh, great. I roll my eyes. He is drunk and mad. This should be pleasant. Too bad.
”You’ve been drinking,” I say.
“I had a few when I found out that you kicked me out of our house,” he answers defensively. “You didn’t answer my question.”
“It’s my house, Craig. It was never our house. But, yes. This is how our marriage is ending.”
“I need to come by to see if all my stuff got over to Marc’s.”
“Trust me. It’s there. I don’t want any of it.”
“Why’d you have to toss out all my ssstuff?”
“First, I didn’t toss it out. I probably should have. Second, did you really think I would let you back into my house after all the crap you pulled - in Las Vegas and throughout our marriage?”
“What…what do you mean, throughout our marriage?”
“Don’t play coy with me Craig. I found your stupid, little, secret cigar box.” I can just picture his face turning white. “You had me totally fooled. Bravo. Well, I should say fooled up until a couple months ago.”
Craig is quiet for a few seconds. Most likely he’s trying to figure out how to put the blame on me. He then surprises me and starts laughing.
“Sorry, Babe” he says. “You caught me.”
I snort. “Yeah, you sound really sorry – not” I mumble. But his blunt admission still surprises me. “You’re a real ass, you know that Craig. I hope fate comes back and bites you in the ass.”
“I’ve made it so far without any problems. I plan on keeping it that way.”
I cannot believe what he’s saying. Who is this person? It certainly isn’t the person I thought I married. Obviously, he was never that person. I must have been completely blind to the real Craig.
“Well, you’ll be getting divorce papers soon.”
“Oh well. Can’t get anything anyway since you made me sign that stupid pre-nup. Shouldn’t have even married you after you made me sign that. Smart move on your part, though. My first wife wasn’t so smart. But it doesn’t matter anyway. I don’t want any of your shit.”
My eyes bug out. Craig keeps rattling on but I’m not hearing him. I’m stuck on the “first wife” comment. First wife. He had a wife…before me…that he never told me about.
Did I hear him correctly? He had a first wife? I look to Taylor for confirmation. But her mouth is hanging open. Ok, so I did hear correctly. Oh my god!
“First…first wife?” I stammer.
“Oh, yeah. Never did tell you about that, did I?” he laughs and laughs.
I put my hand over Taylor’s mouth because I know she is about ready to blow. Her face has turned red and I swear I see a little bit of steam coming out of her ears. What an arrogant, conceited excuse of a person Craig is. Thank God I am divorcing him and will not have to deal with him anymore. And really, my lawyer can take care of that.
“Good-bye Craig,” I hang up on him while he is still laughing.
I drop the phone on the counter, pull my hand away from Taylor and just stare at her. Craig was married before. Holy cow! I realize I had been staring at Taylor without focusing on her. When I do focus, she is staring dumbfounded back at me. I actually cannot believe she hasn’t said anything yet. Craig totally shocked her. She keeps opening and closing her mouth without any words coming out.
“Taylor?”
“He…he was effing married…before! OH MY GOD! I don’t know what to say. Why aren’t you freaking out?”
“I guess it hasn’t really hit me yet. Or maybe I’m so done with him and I’ve just let it go. He was being such a jerk.”
“I know, the bastard. What an ass! I can’t believe him! He’s the one who was screwing around. And does he feel even remotely sorry for it? NO!”
We talk about it for a while. I am not feeling as stupid as I was earlier. Now I know Craig played me and I wouldn’t have found out anything he didn’t want me to know.
Taylor is prepared to stay the night again. I talk her into leaving. I tell her that I will be ok with the new locks and there is always the alarm. Eventually Taylor leaves, making me promise to call her if anything is weird or if I am just uncomfortable by myself.
Later that night, Ryan calls, which cheers me up immensely. Again, he tells me he misses me and didn’t have anything to do without me there to keep him company. It makes me smile and laugh to be able to call him a liar. I tell him about Craig’s call. He’s furious with Craig. He cannot believe that Craig hadn’t told me about being married before. Ryan is so sweet. He’s concerned about me having to deal with Craig. I assure him that I will call Marc if we missed any of Craig’s stuff. And that my lawyer will handle everything with the divorce.
Ryan asks what else I had been up to today. I tell him about the diner this morning and the two incidents that made me uncomfortable. He is worried when I tell him that I think the rude woman from Las Vegas is here in Kansas City and warns me to be careful. Just before we hang up I remember to ask him about the single rose. He denies sending it and again warns me to be leery about it. I blow it off, maybe one of my friends left it hoping to cheer me up
. He says he has heard some weird stories and makes me promise him that I will be extremely cautious.
I’ve been so tired while talking with Ryan, yawning in his ear the whole time. But when I lay down to sleep, I am wide awake. My brain will not turn off. I think about Ryan, then end up switching to Craig and end up getting all pissed off. I keep thinking about how Craig was married before and didn’t tell me. Why wouldn’t he have told me he’d been married before? How bad was his first marriage? Did he take advantage of her, too? Craig probably didn’t want me to talk to his first wife and find out what he had done to her. Or to find out what he was really like.
I try to clear my mind so I can fall asleep. But then the guy from the diner pops into my head, wondering if he is a reporter like we suspected. Of course, then I think about the woman and what a coincidence it is that this woman looks just like the woman from Las Vegas or if in fact she is the rude woman from Las Vegas. I finally fall asleep but have weird dreams that leave me feeling exhausted.
I decide to go to the grocery store the next morning. I get ready and open the door to leave and in the driveway is Craig. Crap! He is up early for a Sunday.
What does he want?!
He is not getting in the house. I quickly close and lock the door, inhale a gulp of air, then turn to face him. Craig gets out of his truck and walks to the edge of the porch.
“Can we talk?”
Seriously? He wants to talk now? I should tell him no, tell him to stay the hell away from me. But I am morbidly curious. What can he possibly have to talk about with me? I am silent long enough that I can visibly see he is uncomfortable.
Good, be uncomfortable, you jerk!
“Look, Olivia. I’m really sorry about how rude I was yesterday on the phone. I was drunk. Please let me explain,” Craig pleads.
Oh, shit. He actually calls me Olivia, not Livey, which means he really wants my attention.
There is no way I am going to talk to him here in front of the house - it is too cold outside and paparazzi might see us and cause problems. And he definitely is not getting in the house. I want neutral ground.
“Alright. I’ll meet you at the coffee shop just down the street.”
He nods in agreement. He gets in his truck and backs out of the driveway. I close my eyes for a second, telling myself I can handle this and it hopefully is the last time I have to talk to him. I get in my car and follow Craig to the coffee shop. I walk into the shop, not caring whether Craig follows or not. But of course, he does. We order, get our drinks and find a corner, hoping to be inconspicuous.
“Ok Craig. Just say what you’re going to say. I don’t want any more problems.” He looks like he is trying to figure out how to say whatever it is he wants to say. He opens his mouth a couple times to start but then abruptly stops.
“I wish you….”
“Why did you….”
He looks embarrassed. Good. I let him squirm.
He thinks for a moment, then starts again.
“I know after how I talked to you on the phone yesterday that you think I’m a complete jerk. And I was - am. I totally deserve that. First, I want to say I’m sorry for how I talked to you. And I owe you an apology for our marriage.”
Ok – what is he trying to pull? He must want something. There is no way he’s sorry. Everything he has done and said in the past leads me to believe he wants something.
“I can see you’re skeptical. I don’t blame you. And I’m not trying to change your mind about me. I just want to explain… me… or my behavior, I guess. Marc and I had a long talk last night – after I sobered up - and made me see what I was doing, what I had done to you. I’ve been a complete ass to you. Contrary to what you may believe, I didn’t go into our marriage thinking ‘how can I screw over Olivia’. I was going to try hard to do good by you. Since my first marriage failed - and yeah, sorry for not telling you about that - I wanted to do good with the second.”
He won’t look at me. He is staring at something on the coffee table that sits in front of us.
“Then came my bachelor party and I was totally shi… um, drunk and had no clue what I was doing. And I…well, I assume you saw the picture and note on the back. Almost confessed that to you, but at the last minute decided that it was just a lapse and I wouldn’t do that to you anymore.”
He shifts uncomfortably in his chair, glances at me then quickly looks away.
“About 3 months after we got married, we had that big fight about your house and I went out and got drunk and met Elizabeth. That lasted a couple weeks until we made up and things got back to normal.
“Stop! What the…. Please stop! I don’t want to hear this, Craig.” I put my hands up to my face and rub. Why does he think I want to hear about any of the times he screwed around on me?
“I know it’s too late for you to forgive me. But I want to finally be honest with you. I wanted to be good for you. I tried. I swear I tried being good for you at first. I mean seriously…look at you, Olivia. You’re gorgeous, nice, and smart and took a chance with me. Everyone was jealous of me because I got you. They didn’t understand why you were with me. Of course, they didn’t know that I had been lying and fooling you the whole time.”
Oh my god. He is admitting that he has lied to me the whole time. He was pretending to be the person he thought I wanted.
“I didn’t tell you I’d been married before because I thought you deserved to have someone without baggage. She was trash that I didn’t want you to be involved with. By the time I felt guilty enough that I hadn’t told you, it was way too late to say anything.”
So, who the hell is Craig? Well, he is not honest. He is not monogamous. Hell, he has probably even cheated on Annabelle already.
“Craig, you can’t pretend to be someone you’re not. You have to be yourself.” I threw my hands up out of sheer loss of words. What was he thinking? “Ok. So… what was with the Las Vegas trip? Why spend the money?” I ask.
“Yeah, Vegas. Didn’t turn out like I wanted at all. Um… ok honest. Don’t be mad.”
He winces and fidgets with his coffee cup.
Good Lord. What now?
“I didn’t spend any money on the trip. Actually, you… uh, you won the trip. I happened to answer the phone and took all the information for you. I was able to set everything up. It made me look good – giving you a trip for your birthday. I needed to go out and bet on the college football championship game. I owed this guy some money and was going to win it out there. But I lost a shi…um, I lost a lot of money on that stupid bet. Annabelle was not supposed to be there. She surprised me out there that first night. She got jealous even though she knew the only reason I was able to go out there was because you won the trip.”
Why am I not surprised? It is so like Craig. I knew he wouldn‘t spend money on a trip. He could seduce the stingiest person. So why wouldn’t they allow the winner’s husband to set everything up. And it explains why he was so agreeable before our trip. He needed me to go in order for him to go.
“Can we be friends?” Craig asks.
I snort out a laugh. Is he joking? I look at him to see if he is sincere. He looks like he means it.
“Oh! You’re not joking,” I say.
“No, I’m not,” Craig answers, with a hint of hurt in his voice.
“No Craig. We can’t be friends. You’ve hurt me too much. And I would never be able to trust you again.”
“Yeah, I figured,” he replies, sheepishly. He picks up his cup and finishes it all at once. “Well, thanks for talking with me. I know I didn’t even deserve that.”
“You’re welcome. Why did you tell me all this? Are you feeling guilty or something?”
“Yeah, something like that. Marc really yelled at me last night. I figured you deserved an explanation. You’ve been nothing but nice and sweet and classy. I’m the one who fucked up. I also didn’t want you thinking that you did anything. It was all me.”
“You know Craig,” I said, “if you had been more like this thro
ughout our marriage, things might be different.”
Craig sadly shakes his head in agreement. He stands up to leave, pats his pockets, I assume looking for his keys and pulls something out.
“Oh. I believe this belongs to you” he says, handing me the necklace that Annabelle took from me in Vegas. “Sorry. I didn’t know she took that until you commented on it.”
“Thanks.”
“I guess I’ll see you around.”
I hope not, I think to myself.
Craig walks out the door, gets in his truck and drives away. Good riddance.
“I seriously hope not to see you again,” I mumble out loud. I continue to sit in the coffee shop to finish my drink. My head hurts horribly from the stress of the past few days. My marriage has been a complete lie. I was some…accomplishment to him. How could he even think that was ok?
After finishing my coffee, I opt to forgo the grocery store and drive home. I walk up to the front door and laying there is a very pretty, very light lavender rose. It is the same as yesterday, no card and no one around. The roses are lovely but they are beginning to worry me.
I take the rose inside and place it in the vase with the one from yesterday. I call Ryan to leave him message to call me when he lands. Next I call Taylor. She is irritated that I didn’t call her to have her meet me at the coffee shop, too. But she would have just gotten into a fight with Craig. It was better that I met with him on my own.
After Taylor, I called Sarah. Sarah was worried about all the information Craig told me and how I am dealing with it. Either it has not hit me yet or I have already pulled away from Craig enough that it’s not affecting me as it once would have.
To pass time, I try to read a book but just end up staring off into space thinking about Ryan and Craig. Then I try to pay some bills, but I am too restless. I find myself meandering around the house when the doorbell rings. I freeze. I’m not expecting anyone.
Apprehensively, I peek out the window, let out a little scream of joy and am utterly surprised. My parents came for a visit! I throw the door open and fly into my dad’s arms. Their visit could not have come at a more opportune time. I need them. Letting my dad go, I hug mom fiercely, too.
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