Memoir of Mistakes

A Story by Stormy Weather

A short story.

She awoke to the warm silence of the late afternoon. She was warm and comfortable in her bed. She let her gaze wander onto the space next to her. Just as she had expected; empty. She sighed as she slowly rose from her bed and made her way out of her room. Passing by her nightstand, she noticed a note lying casually on the clean table. With a thread of hope, she picked up the little note and read the neatly written letter, feeling every molecule of hope gradually disappear as she got further through the letter. Feeling a quick rush of anger and disappointment, she tore the paper in half and discarded the mess of excuses on her floor. Only then did she notice the note was scribbled onto a receipt of hers....of course, he wouldn't use a piece of his own paper. She hummed a cheerful tune with a fake smile as she waltzed into the kitchen and began making her usual pot of coffee. After the coffee was made, she sat down at the dining room table with her cup, and began mindlessly stirring sugar into the hot batch of brew. Her thoughts reflected back to the note. She felt a lump form in her throat as she recalled the context of the note:

"Thanks for this past week. You have been fantastic, as always. I had to leave early, my wife gets back at 9:00 am....See you at work -Mark"

Isabelle had never been a "hit it and quit it" type of girl, but she had to be to see Mark.

She had been in love with Mark for five years, ever since she had started working at the firm. Mark, being one of the top attorney's at the firm, caught her attention instantly. His keen wit and intelligence amazed her, as did his sheer sense of confidence. His over-achieving attitude brought forth a deep respect from Isabelle. While the other lawyers seemed like monstrous, scheming back-stabbers, Mark took a personal interest in all his cases and seemed to genuinely care about his clients. And while all the other successful attorney's ignored her, a mere secretary, Mark always made it his mission to greet her and strike up a conversation whenever he passed by her desk. His linguistics were quite impressive, but never made her feel inferior, for Isabelle had a vocabulary that scholars could envy. Even though their careers were quite different, intellectually, they were on the same level. On breaks, Isabelle and Mark could be found delving into a rich conversation with each other, full of rhetoric, wit, and always a little flirting. She wasn't oblivious to the way his deep, hazel eyes would sweep over her body, and visually drink her in. The way he would look at her sent chills of excitement down her spine, every time. They definitely had chemistry, and after five years of their flirtatious friendship, Isabelle knew she had fallen quite hard for the handsome lawyer. She would dream of hearing his voice, whispering her name with all its smooth charm. She longed to run her fingers through his black, tousled hair. She would savor the moments when he would walk past her desk and give her a wink and a smile. He was the epitome of masculinity and fantasy. She desperately wanted him with everything she had, but the only thing stopping her was that fantasy-destroying, gold band around his finger. Her obstacles were erased, however,when he kissed her at the company Christmas party, four months earlier. Ever since then, they had been having a purely sexual relationship, and would see each other whenever Mark could inconspicuously escape from his home. She knew it was wrong to be sleeping with a married man, but she loved him so much. This was her dream guy, and he was supposedly trapped in an unhappy marriage. Secretly, Isabelle hoped with all of her heart that he would eventually fall in love with her, leave his wife, and they could freely be together forever. Unfortunately, she knew that was very unlikely, so she accepted reality.

They had spent another glorious night together last night. His wife had been out of town for a week, so for the past six days or so, he practically lived at Isabelle's house. It was paradise. Unfortunately, his wife was coming home today, so he left early. Isabelle hated the feeling of waking up alone, when she had fallen asleep in her true love's arms. She sighed, knowing she meant nothing more to him than a meaningless affair. Oh, how she wished for more. A tear rolled down her cheek as she sipped her coffee, and desperately wished that she would hear the phone ringing, and pick it up only to hear his melodic voice professing his deep love for her. She wished in silence, as she imagined that at that very moment he was giving his wife a welcome back kiss. The poor, foolish woman gazing into her husband's eyes, completely and sadly unaware of the true man that stood before her. A man who cheats and leaves carelessly written notes on another woman's bedside table.

Maybe ignorance truly is bliss. Oh, how she envies the foolish woman.