It all began with the rain. Typical rainy Seattle was all I could see as I drove carefully across the now drenched streets. Every now and again a brightly colored umbrella would catch my eye but be blurred by the streams of water on my windshield. Even though I was used to the occasional downpours of Washington, my blood was racing through my veins and my heart felt as though it were going to burst out of my chest.
As much as I tried to shift my thoughts and ease my nervousness, I really could not. I was on my way to pick you up from your hotel which was conveniently only a five-minute drive from my apartment. Those five minutes felt like an agonizing eternity whilst my heart ached with a new joy but my mind pleaded for me to turn back. Everything felt so right but I knew it was wrong. It was all wrong.
Earlier that day he had managed to seduce me with his perfect smile, enticing blue-grey eyes, and above all how nice he acted towards me. I couldn’t understand why a man of his caliber was flirting with someone as ordinary as me. Even when others were in his presence his attention never flickered away from me. So when he asked me to have dinner that night I was not only shocked but delighted and of course I said yes right away.
Leaving work, I rushed home in order to make myself acceptable by his standards, which I had imagined all on my own. Finding some tight black jeans with a simple red V-neck sweater, I tried to assure my mind that this attire was ok. In the bathroom it felt like an endless test, full of trial and error until finally I settled upon a simple look of glossy lips and black liner winging out from my lash line. If anything I wanted him to look past my simple outfit and be drawn to my eyes the way I had been with his.
Now as I drove into the parking lot of your hotel, I felt less confident about my look. Parking my truck, I made a quick glimpse at the rear view mirror and saw that the rain had taken a toll from my quick scrimmage from my apartment to the truck. I looked like the femme fatale from a 1950’s gothic noir crime film, who had just walked into the detectives’ office from the rainy streets. My hair had begun the process of frizzing after I had done my due diligence of straightening it.
Secondary thoughts began to flood through me with fear. “I shouldn’t be doing this”, I thought to myself. My heart began to sink within my chest causing a very real yet abstract pain. As I began to text him that my plans had changed I heard a light tapping on the passenger window. Looking up I could not help but laugh as I saw his face was squished upon the window. His cheek was pressed so hard to the glass that I thought I could see the pores of his skin.
Lifting his face up off the window he pulled the door open. A wave of his musky yet ocean smelling cologne sauntered into the cabin of my truck wrapping me in its cool embrace. For a brief moment I was too lost in the amazing smell to realize he was watching me with such an intent gaze. In that instant I lost my ability to speak. It was as if he could read my mind or maybe he just knew the affects he had on women, but he pulled himself into my truck closing the door and sealing us off from the outside world.
The rain slowed outside to a soft pitter patter. Every now and again a rain drop would hit my truck and make a light pinging noise but we were oblivious now. My body and mind felt as if they were on two different planets. I didn’t want to ruin the perfect silence between us. Nothing could compare to this moment until ever so slowly he began to lean across the seats towards me.
My breath was shaky as I exhaled softly. My heart had regained its self-esteem doing back flips in my chest. My eyes instinctively closed as his hands cupped my face and then his soft lips kissed mine. Electrical currents seemed to be racing between us and it only brought us closer to one another. He tasted primarily of sweet mint but I noted the hints of sprite and gin.
After what felt like an hour of kissing him, we reluctantly pulled apart. “I have been waiting to do that all day”, he said, his voice so sure and unwavering. “That was amazing”, I exclaimed, sounding like a kid just getting off of a roller coaster. “You tasted like alcohol though, didn’t realize you needed to pregame for dinner”, I said with some hesitance but more curiosity than anything. “Oh! I did not think you would notice hence the gum. I typically drink when I get nervous especially around pretty girls”, he replied winking at me flirtatiously.
With that I put the truck in reverse and began our five-minute trip to the steak house he wanted to go to. As I drove my mind went back to over analyzing the situation while he played on his cellphone. I glanced over and noted that on his left hand he was still wearing his wedding ring. A simple silver band which he had also been wearing earlier that day at work. I knew it was wrong that I had kissed this married man. I knew he was the type to cheat but I kept thinking that maybe he would be different for me. I kept thinking that maybe I could change him for the better.
It has been four years now. Four years of sneaking around enjoying the blissfulness in our secret meetings. Four years of wondering if it was really going to work between us given his past. The rain is pouring outside of our luxurious apartment. Since I moved to Arizona to be with you we have slowly but surely made this place our home. Pictures of our travels line the walls as well as inside jokes that only you and I would ever understand. Taking in the random knick knacks along the shelves I hear him packing his things in what was once our bedroom. My heart begins to break again and I try to refrain from crying but I am too exhausted to care if he witnesses these tears. He didn’t seem to care anyways when I had walked in on him with another woman in our bed. In fact, he cared so little about my feelings that he just told me to go away because I was interrupting him and his new paramour.
Tracing circles on the oak table to try and ease the tremble that is threatening to take over my body I continue to reminisce where we had gone wrong if there were in fact any signs of his betrayal or if I was simply blind to it all because I loved him so much. Though I shouldn’t act as if I were any saint. I learned from him even if I had never actually known that he was sleeping with all the women he met while he was going to the gym I of course suspected. On occasion I ended up flirting with and then finally sleeping with men I had met either at work or within my social circles. Some of them I had genuine crushes on while others I just wanted to feel wanted or more over loved. I wanted to fill the emotional chasm that had quietly exposed itself after our deployment together. This hole only grew larger in time and when he volunteered for another deployment. He told me it was because he felt like some trapped animal in society and only war would keep him alive, keep him functioning. How could I have been so stupid and wasted my life with him?
Finally, he emerges from our bedroom turning off the light as he leaves. He carries his two large army issue duffels packed to the brim. He looks up at me with angry eyes as if I am the only one to blame in all this. I want so bad to get on my knees and beg for him not to go. The pain is too much to bare I can literally feel my heart trying to rip itself out of my chest just to run after him.
Thunder is now rumbling outside and the rain is starting to come down harder. I can’t recall a time in my four years of living in Phoenix that we got a thunderstorm in February. I have the back porch sliding door open to help me breath a bit easier but I still find myself feeling dizzy and extremely small. Even though I haven’t moved for the past hour I have this odd sense that I am not really in my own body. My imagination has taken control in order to handle the pain I suppose. I have watched myself get up countless times pacing the living room and then going into the kitchen just to try to keep my hands busy. I shouldn’t have thought about the kitchen because now memories good and bad are coming to mind of him. I remember our first morning together after we had moved in and he had attempted to make me blueberry muffins. Instead of them rising like they should have they looked like very thing cookies. From that day on he had delegated that I would cook because he had no idea what he was doing, of course later he would blame me for my cooking as it had caused him to gain weight. Another memory flashes through as I watch him walk towards the guest bedroom to get the rest of his stuff. It is late in the evening and we have been drinking absinthe. We are celebrating his birthday while also toasting my getting an interview with the DEA. He is all smiles and constantly putting his arms around me calling me his smart girl. I can’t help but laugh because no man has ever said that to me at least not speaking seriously. He takes a long sip of the emerald drink and then pulls me in for a boozy kiss, I find that I have never been happier then that moment.
He comes out from the guest bedroom slamming the door behind him. I jump from the noise and I am forced back into the painful reality. I look at him but his eyes no longer reflect the sweet, loving man I had come to know. I keep trying to tell myself that it is better that it is over between him and I. I found someone else and he is much better but he isn’t here right now to save me. I wish he was but he doesn’t deserve to be a part of this, he doesn’t need to see this.
“I haven’t gotten all my stuff yet. I will need to come back another day so I am going to keep the key”, he states. His voice has no indication of how he is feeling but I feel he is trying to manipulate me again. He knows that he has made me afraid to question what he says and does.
Another image pops in my mind as I watch him prowl around the living room as if trying to find one last thing that he may need but I know he is only trying to torment me longer. This time I am sitting on the couch and it is New Year’s Eve 2013. I am reading Animal Farm while he sits at the dining table surfing the internet and drinking gin. Out of nowhere he jumps from the table and walks over to the chair I am sitting in. At first I smile because I think he is about to whisk me away into our bedroom but after looking at his face and seeing the unfamiliar crazed look in his eyes I know something bad is about to happen. It was so fast I didn’t get the chance to react but his fist connects to my jaw. I don’t recall ever being hit that hard in my life other than being in car accidents and experiencing severe whiplash. I feel the warm sensation of blood leaving my mouth and can feel bits of my teeth that have broken laying on my tongue while some are embedded on the inside of my cheek. My vision is distorted but I can make out the burgundy chair I am sitting in and then another hit to the face but this time his knuckles are connecting with my nose. Blood is everywhere now the carpet below me is now soaked with it. I begin to cough as I feel the blood starting to gush down the back of my throat. I am in shock and all I can mumble is, “Please”.
Watching him now I am waiting for him to snap again to come after me again. I don’t know if I would be any better prepared but at least I could anticipate it. He looks over in my direction sighs loudly while grabbing his duffels again. Walking towards the door he stops only to readjust the straps on his shoulders and finally he disappears. The apartment is now silent and open but I feel like the walls are closing around me. I find my throat is closing up as I clutch my chest in a desperate attempt to alleviate the panic attack that is taking over. The rain is now a deafening roar on the pavement of my patio drowning out my sobs. My phone begins to ring and it is my sister. I swipe multiple times at the green button trying to answer. “Is he gone? Did he leave yet?”, her voice comes through crackled from a bad signal but her voice is shrill. “He’s gone”, I reply my voice barely above an audible whisper, but inside my mind I know it is not the end just yet.
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