Didnt I?

When I first met your husband I didn’t know that he was yours. There were no tale tail signs of marriage, no tan line from a missing ring, no hidden story, just a man sitting alone at a bar. I came to know him in the usual manor, I was meeting a friend for after work drinks, a friend that first pointed out the tall handsome man that sat alone staring at the game playing on the tv set above the bar. Tie loosened and jacket off, he looked like a smart casual version of my dreams. Sandy hair and deep brown eyes, he would tip the open end of his beer to his mouth, my friend suggested I introduce myself, and in a very brazen manner I did. We shook hands and he ordered me a drink. We talked for hours, he never mentioned you once. We spoke about life and dreams, fears and failures. Family and friends, I felt like I saw his soul, and I know he saw mine. At the end of the night, we didn’t kiss; we didn’t run off to my place and jump between sheets with lust in our vain. He very sweetly placed me in a cab and asked for my number.

                Over the next week, he would call me 3 times and see me once more. We went to dinner and I noticed how sweet it was that he turned off his phone to pay extra attention to me. He was such a great listener, and asked so many intriguing questions, I felt like he really wanted to know everything about me. By the end of the night I was falling in love with him, his manner and the slight speech impediment that gave him a quaint east coast accent. We parted the night with a kiss, just one, as he dropped me off at my door step, he surprised me, warmth swelled and tenderness exploded. I leaned in and gave the last bit of my foolish heart. He cupped my face and spoke softly, said he didn’t want to rush, that he would be out of town on business for the next week, and would it be okay if he called me tomorrow. I simmered under the attention and nodded. As the weeks passed by we saw each other in our free time, he traveled a lot, he would be gone for a week and home from 3 days at a time. After our 5^th date he took me to his apartment, it was smaller than I thought it would be, very plain, but homey, in need of a woman’s touch I told myself. That night he kissed me with new passion, his figners exploded with purpose, he took me to the point of no return and then stopped looking at me and asked if it was okay, if I was okay with this next step. Never before had a man been so polite and tender. I knew I was in love, hopeless and irreversible in love with him. Afterwards we laid in his bed and I listened to him tell me about the plans he had for us, he had such plans. A house in the country, kids, dogs, picket fences and picnics, all sounding eerily like the dreams I shared, but I was over the moon. I smiled and seemed embarrassed at the attention and he looked cocked his head to one side and asked ‘didn’t I know how much he loved me? Didn’t I know how he came to care for me?’ I had arrived at the point in my life where I could jungle a career and romance with a loving kind handsome and giving professional man. My mother would be so proud. She was actually when I introduced them a month later and started talking weddings on the phone a week later. Months passed by in bliss. Ignorant bliss.

                Thing began to unravel slowly, he began to take calls during dinner and excuse himself, I would watch him out on the restaurant window, smiling like a fool, rubbing his thumb against his bottom lip. I worried, that maybe he was cheating on me. He always silenced this worries with a joke and a kiss, ‘didn’t I know how crazy he was for me’ he would kiss the lies into my neck and seal the deal by trailing his fingers down my skin. I asked to move in, or have him move in with me as my lease was coming to a close; he smiled and said we’d talk about it when he got home again from a two week trip. He began to smile more, giggle on the phone in other rooms and text. His phone never left his hands. Worry swelled to fear. Once he returned, whenever I brought up moving in, he changed the subject. I left the topic alone. Maybe it was too fast for him. After all we had been together for only 6 months. I was being crazy, I was being paranoid. Didn’t I know how much he loved me? Didn’t I see that every time he looked at me and grinned or laughed or touched me?

He would spend me flowers every week he was gone. One week the flower came with a different woman’s name,

               

                Sheri,

Missing you like always

XOXOXO

                  David

 

                I felt my skin craw and I cried for an hour before I called him. He laughed and told me that the florist must have mixed the order up and sent me someone else’s flowers. He seemed so comfortable with his truth that by the end of the call I was too, but that planted the seed that something wasn’t right, and try as I might to weed it out of my mind it grew. He came home one day, and with was called back out again for a sales meeting he never told me, but insisted he did. With a peck on the cheek he fled my apartment and I watched him laughing on his cell phone as he hailed a cab, I thought I caught him mouth I love you as he hung up. I began to feel desperate and clingy. I needed his call every night to assure me that he did love me, that he wasn’t cheating on me. One night he called and I could hear a woman, in the background, just her distance voice as if she were singing, a co-worker that why he was whispering, that’s why he had to keep it short and sweet. I love you he said as he hung up. I didn’t reply. That seed took root and was budding. I am a smart woman, I knew what was wrong, by brain told me a month ago with the smiles and laughs with the increases trips, but didn’t I know how much I meant to him? Didn’t I know how much he loved me?

                That Wednesday when he knocked at my door, I greeted him with the normal affectionate smile and kiss, but my insides were frozen. I needed the truth. I waited for him to fall asleep and stole his phone from the side table he kept it and bare foot I walked to the fire escape and popped it open. I got the password on the third try, Shari in numbers, my heart sank. I looked at his contacts, home was a different area code, I punched in my number and “Dale from work” popped up as my contact. Your smiling face greeted me as I pulled up the pictures, I scrolled though them and saw what I needed to see, what my heart needed to see to believe, a picture of the two of you, sandy hair next to deep brown, beaming smiles, holding hands in front of the beach, and on your finger a ring, on his a ring to match. All the time I was worried he was cheating on me, I missed that he was cheating with me. I was the other woman. All the time I spent wondering if he had fallen in love with another I realized he was falling back in love with you, his wife. I felt sick, the room became blurry and I steadied myself. I let out a wail and he like magic appeared before me. One look at his phone, my hand, and my face and told him the story. He began in with damage control. He was leaving you, your marriage was on the fritz, he never loved you like me. Didn’t I know how crazy he was about me? Didn’t I know how much he loved me? He was going to tell you, he just needed to wait till you were well enough to hear the news. Did he mention you were sick? I heard these lies and a little part of me hoped, foolishly that this was the reason. I stared at your face, freckled and fair skinned you were so different than my tanned skin and blonde hair. I was the other woman, the younger blonde woman. I was a lifetime movie, I was the villain. I hated him at that moment, I hated him for making me such a foolish woman, to reducing me to a poorly written character in a low budget movie. But most of all I hated you, for existing, for smiling and being happy in that picture, for so clearly being in love with this man, that I loved and for loving him first.

                I had given him almost a year; I had given him lonely night sitting at home, waiting for his calls, waiting for his time. I made excuses and accused myself of insanity, but staring at your lovely face I knew, like a tidal wave of sense and truth, my eyes were washed clean. I knew that you deserved to know, I know you needed to know. I calmly told him that I needed some time. I needed some space. He cried real tear and repeated again ‘didn’t I know how much he loves me’ and walked out the door. He wasn’t scared I would tell you, he thought he knew me better than that. I was the meek one, I was the weak one. I was the one that he could fool. I didn’t sleep, I didn’t eat, I sat on my couch and at my weakest moment, I thought I could still have him, I could make him choose, he’d choose me , after all didn’t I know … But as the light came up with the sun, I realized that I was the other woman, I was the woman that got him on the sly. You were his wife, didn’t I know that? Didn’t I now know what he was. I silenced my phone and rejected his calls which with each passing hour became more frequent, his texts more panicked. He still wasn’t scared I’d tell you, he was concerned for me. Didn’t I know that? At noon I took pen to paper, it seemed the only way to let you know. He knocked on my door around 5pm and spoke to me though the door. He promised to let you know, to end it, to leave you and move in with me. I didn’t say anything as he promised everything my heart wanted to hear. I cried and waited for him to leave. The next morning a stroke of genius accrued, I called the florist and pretending to be his assistance and got your address. I will send this letter out tomorrow. I pray I have the strength. I hope you are as beautiful as that picture, I hope your smile is as happy as it seems, but most of all I hope you knew.. Because didn’t I?

                 

Sincerely

 

The other woman.   

 

Author's Note

Let me know your thoughts. Any advice would be nice

Reviews

[Nadia Gerassimenko]

Man cannot hide his lies for too long. Woman is intuitive, she feels something is amiss. She will eventually learn. I like your story quite a bit. I thought it was original how you wrote it as a letter addressing the wife, letting her on of your plight and her plight and what he did to the both of you. I also thought you were spot on about adultery, as if you have lived through it or were able to get inside someone's shoes who did go through that.

[dan]

Wow, Crystal. The emotion packed into this all-too-common tale is all-encompassing, you hit every paranoid thought and suspicion right on the button...I found myself hating this guy. My first live-in girlfriend AND my first wife cheated on me...I sorta knew but stayed safely tucked into denial and doubt. When the end finally came I was devastated, both times...a lot of the same feelings you describe were what I had felt during the darkest days. Incredible writing! (By the way, I just noticed: is that a white cat in your avatar pic? I'm a cat lover whose lease does not allow cats). Your writing evokes so much real feeling, I'm very impressed. Nice job young lady. take care...dan

[Crystal Overmeyer-Birmingham]

Thank you. I was inspired by Stay by sugarland. and its a puppy i have a dog and a cat... fenir ( Fenny) is the dog and whiskey is the kitty but we call her mamas. Thank you for you review. it was fun to write.