Discovering Truths, page 8
He burst into laughter. “I’m sure you covered everything important.”
“I sure hope so.” I smiled.
“You’re doing great, Abby. I have high hopes for you.”
At least someone did. My life was such a cluster I wasn’t sure what to hope for anymore. As long as I made it through each day, I was winning.
The meeting was stressful and now, I couldn’t wait for this day to be over. I genuinely enjoyed my job, but if I wanted to move up, I needed to step up my game.
Once back at my desk, I pulled out my phone to check my messages before I slid it into my desk drawer. I didn’t want to bother Gage, but I always hoped there was something from him. Luckily this time, there was.
I opened the message and was greeted by a selfie of him, covered in oil and grease. Underneath it he wrote: When you have to get your hands dirty.
Me: Still sexy…whew.
Gage: How was the meeting?
Me: It was good. My boss is pretty awesome.
Gage: Replacing me already?
Me: Ew, really? He’s like…in his fifties. Total dad, maybe even grandpa vibes.
Gage: Just making sure.
Me: You’re silly.
***
I was on my way to Yoga that evening when my phone started ringing through the Bluetooth speakers in my car. A number that I didn’t recognize flashed across the screen. I normally didn’t answer numbers I didn’t know, but the area code was the same as mine, so I assumed it was safe.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Hi. Mrs. West?”
“This is she…” I said hesitantly.
“Hey. This is Katie. I work with Marcus.” She said nervously.
My body stiffened. Why in the world is she calling me? Instinctively, my guard went up, but her tone worried me.
“Is everything okay?”
“We’re at the hospital, actually. He was having severe chest pains. Todd and I brought him here because he was starting to make us nervous. We thought he might be having a heart attack.”
“I’m on my way.” I said.
I whipped the car around and flew down the highway. I might’ve not liked my husband very much, but I still didn’t wish anything bad on his health. I rushed through the hospital doors, stopped at the front desk to retrieve his room number, then headed for the elevator.
When I reached his room, I pushed the door open quickly and saw Katie and Todd sitting in the visitor chairs. Marcus laid there in the hospital bed connected to IVs and machines.
“Are you okay?” I walked to him and wrapped my arms around his neck. Really, this was for show. I wanted Katie to see it, and I wanted her to feel like shit.
“I’m fine.” He said.
“Thank you guys for bringing him, but you can go. I’m staying.” I said, directing my eyes toward his co-workers, the female in particular.
“Feel better, man.” Todd said.
“Let me know if you need anything.” Katie said. Her eyes stayed focused on him as she walked out the door. Maybe it was all in my head, but I could have sworn I saw an exchange between them, like they knew exactly what the other was thinking. I recognized the exchange, because I was now in their shoes.
Now was the true test. Now it was time to see how Marcus acted with me having just been in the same room as his mistress.
“Why didn’t someone call me earlier?” I asked.
“It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t even want to come to the hospital, but they insisted. I was just having some chest pains. They’re getting my discharge paperwork ready now.”
“It doesn’t matter that it’s not a big deal, what if it turned out to be something worse? You’re my husband; I want to know these things.” That was also a truth. Although things between us were a secret mess, I still cared for Marcus. The love was just lost.
“I didn’t want to bother you at work. It’s a new job and I know you’re trying to focus.”
“Still, that doesn’t matter. I would have liked to know the moment you got here. You said they’re getting your discharge papers ready now, were you going to let me know at all?”
He was silent.
“Wow. How did that chick get my phone number then?”
“Todd must have given it to her.”
And now I had the number of the woman who had stolen my husband. He was fine until he met her, or so I thought. At this point, who knew? I grabbed my phone and deleted the number. I didn’t want it. I wasn’t going to waste my time worrying about them when I had my own thing going.
I wasn’t sure what I expected from him, but he acted the same way he had been acting at home. I guess he thought that I thought it was normal. He didn’t know that I knew better.
The nurse brought in some papers for Marcus to sign, and just like that, it was over. We stopped by the office for him to pick up his car and he followed me home. It was the first night in a while that he was home before eight. If all of this hadn’t happened, I was sure he’d still be gone.
I catered to him that night, making his favorite dinner and getting his shower ready, but you could tell it wasn’t appreciated. I was trying my hardest to act like a normal, caring, loving wife. Did he see through me like I saw through him? Surely not. If he knew about my secret, he’d put me through the wringer for sure. It was okay for him, though, that’s how he worked.
He insisted that he was going to work tomorrow, so he went to bed early. I lay there, aimlessly flipping through the TV channels.
Me: Hope you had a good evening.
I sent Gage a message, but never got a response. That gave me an uneasy feeling, but I tried to shake it off, telling myself that he was probably busy. I truly hated that I was so caught up, but at this point, I couldn’t help it. Gage had me hooked.
Chapter Sixteen
Gage: Sorry I’m just now getting back to you. It was a rough night.
Me: I’m sorry. It was an eventful evening for me yesterday as well. Want to talk about it?
Gage: Just a fight with the wife. Nothing unusual.
Me: Oh. I’m sorry.
Gage: What was eventful for you?
Me: The husband’s co-workers took him to the hospital, they thought he might be having a heart attack. It was just chest pains, though.
Gage: Oh wow. So, I’m assuming all is okay now…
Me: Yep. Just fine.
Gage: What are you doing today on your day off? Poor normal people like me still have to work.
Me: LOL, I won’t be doing anything exciting, trust me. I’m going to catch up on all the normal things I would be doing throughout the week. Cleaning, errands…
Gage: Sounds like a blast.
Me: Don’t be jealous.
Gage: Wish I could see you today.
Me: Can you meet me on lunch? Truck date?
Gage: Probably not. They’re going to need me today, got another busy day ahead.
Me: Bummer. Hopefully next week?
Gage: I better get to see you next week.
Me: Well, have a good day. Text me when you can.
Gage: You too, sweetie. I will.
I felt ridiculous for getting worried last night, but when I didn’t hear from him, I freaked. Unfortunately, I had to realize that he had a life, and I wasn’t the center of it. Did I even mean anything to him? I’d probably never know.
***
Marcus texted and said that he and the whole office were going out for a celebratory dinner because Todd had won a huge case. I was tired of sitting around the house being so freaking lonely all the time. It wasn’t fair. I texted Melinda and hoped she’d be down to do something.
Me: Girls night?
Melinda: What did you have in mind?
Me: Dinner. A bar. Drinks. Something. Marcus isn’t going to be home tonight and I need to get out of the house.
Melinda: Let me talk to Jon. BRB.
Obviously she needed to consult with her husband. He actually gave a crap about her. What was that like?
Melinda: Jon is down. Since I’m going out, he’s going to go out with his brother. He said he’ll drop us off. Get ready!
Not only did I now have plans, but I didn’t have to worry about driving. Bring on the fun.
***
“This is why I don’t drink! Melinda! Why did you let me drink this much?” I yelled to my friend who was sitting right beside me. We started with dinner and one drink, then migrated down the street to a bar, where I had now lost count of how many drinks I’d consumed. Between the shots and the mixed drinks, I was done. Needless to say, I didn’t drink often.
“I didn’t shove them down your throat, babe, that was all you.” She said. She was feeling good, but was nowhere near my level of intoxication.
“Feels so good to be out, though. Gosh I needed this,” I said, downing my drink. I didn’t even remember what it was called—some fruity concoction. “Hey, will you get that guy to give me another one of these?” I asked, raising the glass.
“I don’t think you need anymore.”
“Don’t be lame…it’s only like what, eleven o’ clock?” I slurred.
“It’s midnight.”
“Still! That’s early!”
“One more drink,” she said. “Then we’re going home.”
“Alright, alright, Mom. I’m going to the potty. Get that dude.” I reminded her.
I grabbed my purse and slung it over my shoulder then pushed through the crowd of people to the bathroom. I felt normal, but I was sure my steps were a little wobbly.
Once in the stall, I plopped down on the toilet and pulled my phone from my purse.
Me: I don’t think I can do this with u anymore. My feelings are too strong. I don’t want to get hurt. I have to protect myself. Hope u can understand that. Also, tequila is bad.
I wasn’t sure what prompted me to send that message to Gage. I just felt like it was the right thing to do. I used the bathroom, washed my hands, then stumbled back to our table.
“You alright?” Melinda asked when I sat down. My girly drink was waiting and I took a long sip.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just sent him a message.”
“Who?”
“Gage.”
“The car guy? The guy?”
“Yes. Him.”
“What kind of message did you send him?”
“I told him that I can’t do this anymore. I’m really starting to feel for him, Mel. I can’t get hurt…not worse than I already am.”
“That’s probably for the best.” She said.
“Is it, though? I don’t know. Maybe things could have really gone somewhere with him.”
“Don’t you think you should get divorced first?”
“Well, yeah…but so should he.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“Yeah…he’s married too. Did I leave that out?”
“Um, yes, you left that out. Abby, this is one ginormous cluster. You really do need to be done with this mess. Go about things the right way. Once you’re free and clear of Marcus, then do what you want. Live your life the way you want. But this…all this is not good.”
I stirred my drink around with the straw then took a long sip. “So stupid.”
“What’s stupid?” she asked.
“Me. Everything.”
“You’re not stupid. Don’t say that.”
I ignored her. I wasn’t sure that I could talk about it anymore. I felt physically sick and I wasn’t sure if it was from the alcohol, or this conversation.
“Did you call Jon?” I asked. I was over it. Just take me home.
“I just texted him. He’s on his way.”
He arrived a few minutes later and had to help me into the backseat of his truck. What was with these men and these tall trucks? I couldn’t handle it, especially in my current state. When he pulled in my driveway, Marcus was getting out of his car. I didn’t even tell him I was going out, so I was sure this would be a surprise.
“Want me to walk with you?” Melinda asked.
“Nope. There’s the prick now, he can help me inside.”
“Call me if you need me.” She said.
Marcus walked to the backdoor just as I was stumbling out. “Abby, are you drunk?”
“I have a buzz,” I said, draping my right arm around him. He put his arm around my waist to steady me and we walked to the front door. I watched as the headlights backed out of the driveway. Now I was alone with Marcus and I was suddenly…afraid. Afraid of his reaction…afraid of what might come next. He helped me inside, though, and didn’t say a word.
Once we made it upstairs to our room, he sat me down on the bed. “Let’s get you changed.”
I pulled off my top then fell back on the bed. I didn’t have the energy to do it.
“Are you mad?” I asked.
“I’m not mad,” he said. “I just can’t believe you’re drunk. You don’t drink.”
“Obviously. I’m really bad at it.” I couldn’t hold my eyes open. The room was spinning.
“I wish you would have told me you were going out, though.” He said. He slipped off my jean shorts and slid a cotton pair on me. He then popped off my bra and threw a t-shirt over my top.
“Why? You do whatever you want.” I said. And this was why I didn’t drink. Apparently, I had no filter.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you’re out all the freaking time. If you’re not working late, it’s work dinners, or work drinks. I used to have dinner ready every night, you’d be home by six, and we’d eat together. Have you even noticed that I don’t cook half as much as I used to because when I do, I have to place it in the microwave because you’re never here?”
“Abby…I told you with taking over the firm, I’d be busier.”
“This started before that, Marcus.”
“Alright, I’m done talking to you. You’re drunk and I don’t want to get into an unnecessary fight.”
He was so full of himself it was unreal. He didn’t want to continue because he knew I was right and he didn’t have an explanation. That was okay, though, we didn’t have to talk about it because I knew the truth. I may have been drunk, but I wasn’t stupid. I slid to my side of the bed and went to sleep without another word.
Chapter Seventeen
The next morning, I awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee wafting upstairs. I pulled myself up and out of bed and made my way down. Marcus stood at the stove, placing bacon on a plate, then moving to the other burner to scramble eggs. This was a sight you didn’t see often. On the table sat a cup of coffee, glass of orange juice, water, and two Tylenol.
“Is this for me?” I asked, picking up the pills.
“Yes. Thought you might need that,” he said. “And some breakfast.”
“Well…isn’t that nice.” I said.
“How are you feeling?”
“Almost better…”
After having spent most of the night hugging the toilet, I had almost emptied everything from my system. If I could just shake the rest of this headache, I’d be as good as new. This is why I don’t drink.
Although I was drunk last night, I remembered everything that was said and done. I remembered confronting Marcus and how he totally skirted around everything, and I remembered sending Gage that message…which I now believed was a huge mistake. I dreaded looking at my phone to see his response.
“You good with me heading to the golf course today? I thought maybe I’d do that, and I’d give you my card and you could go shopping. Maybe get some more work clothes? Then we go to dinner tonight?”
He was making me breakfast, offering up a credit card, and making dinner plans. What had gotten into him? There was a big chance that the golf course wasn’t actually the golf course, so maybe he was trying to make himself feel better after all the feelings of guilt?
“Okay…that sounds good.” I replied. There was no point in asking questions or offering suggestions.
He placed a plate in front of me and I ate slowly, my stomach still sloshy from my night.
“How have you been feeling? With the chest pains and all that?” I asked.
“I’m alright. They come and go. It’s weird.”
“Hm. Wonder if that’s something you should see a cardiologist for?”
“Maybe,” he said, standing up from the table. He grabbed our plates and carried them to the sink. He hated going to the doctor, so I doubted he really would. If something serious happened, he couldn’t say I didn’t warn him. I’d grown heartless.
I let him do the dishes…it wasn’t something that happened often either. I crawled on the couch and covered up with a blanket, closing my eyes. The headache still lingered and I needed it gone. I must have drifted to sleep because soon, Marcus was shaking me lightly.
“I left my card on the counter. I’m heading out. See you later,” he said, kissing my forehead.
“Thanks. See you later.”
I pulled myself up and folded the blanket. Most of the ache had ceased, so surely after a shower, I’d be alright. I checked the kitchen counter and just as he said, a black card was there waiting for me.
I’d been avoiding my phone, but decided to finally look at it. Sure enough, a message awaited.
Gage: Clearly you were drunk last night, so I’m going to let that message slide. You’re not getting rid of me that easy.
Well, it sounded like he didn’t take me seriously. Thank goodness. I got lucky. I could have totally ruined everything with one stupid message.
Me: Hey. So. Sorry about that. I was drunk, yes.
Gage: Thought you didn’t drink often. Wasn’t that mentioned in one of our conversations?
Me: Yes…and I don’t. And clearly, I can’t handle it…which is probably why I don’t.
Gage: Were you out with him?
Me: No. I was with Melinda.
Gage: You didn’t drive, did you?
Me: No. Her husband drove us.
Gage: Good.
