The Other Other Woman (17 page)

“I would break my foot off in his ass, Mal. What did you say back?”

“Nothing yet. If he thinks I’m going to tell him ‘Aw poor baby, feel better!’ and let him off the hook, he can go fuck himself. He’s probably seeing Katya instead. No sense in driving six hours when you don’t have to.”

“You really think he would do that to you though? If he’s seeing her, he can see her anytime, right?!”

“I have no idea. But I have to end it. He’s made that perfectly clear.”

“What are you going to say?”

“I’m not sure, but I can’t do this anymore.”

“You realize he’s not good enough for you, right? You don’t need his stupid old ass.”

“I know. I just wish that I felt as little for him as he does for me.”

I was able to compose a short response to him.

Let me know how you feel later,
knowing full well he wasn’t coming. An hour later I got another text.

I’m trying to rally but I just keep throwing up! I want to see you!!!!!!

Fuck you, Matt Wynne. Fuck. You.

While I was still sitting there, shell-shocked, trying to think of what I was going to say, he called me. I was in no state to be able to talk to him so I just let it roll to voicemail. It made me so angry I could barely listen to it.

“Mal, I don’t think I’m going to be able to make it. I… I just can’t keep anything down. I can’t eat, I got no sleep. It sucks. I’m sorry. I’ll call you later so we can chat.”

Chat about what, exactly? His complete and utter disregard for my feelings? I knew if I called him back I would chicken out and be unable to say everything that I wanted to say to him at that moment. He could always soothe me over by phone. Always. So, I fired off one very long-winded text. I wasn’t sure if he would even read the whole thing, but at least I put it out there.

I have tried my absolute best to keep this thing (I don’t even know what it is) going with you, but clearly it is time for me to let it go. I don’t understand why you continue to make future plans with me when you don’t actually want to see me. It’s so incredibly hurtful and confusing. I moved a lot of things around, turned down other plans, and really messed with my body trying to make sure everything was just perfect for you this weekend. Because I missed you and wanted to see you so much. I realize now that the feeling is not mutual. Canceling at the last minute like this seems particularly cruel to me, yet I was expecting it. I was really hoping that this time you would prove me wrong. There have been so many signs and I just ignored them all because I really wanted to believe that our “bond” was different somehow. But now I’m the one that feels like puking. I really wish we could have had something, Matt.

I was surprised to get a lengthy text back. His texts were normally so short and stoic.

Mal, I cleared my schedule tmrw to see you. I do care about you and would so rather be having dinner with you than throwing up. I can’t drive 6 hours, stopping every hour to puke on the side of the road. I take responsibility for this, but how am I to know not to eat the seafood gumbo? Sorry you feel this way because I think we have a GREAT bond. And I WILL make it up to you and show you. Going to go puke now.

I have no idea how to respond to you
, I replied.
I obviously don’t matter to you. This is just not a battle I can ever win.

I didn’t hear from him for another couple of hours.
Well you should be disappointed, but I expected some sympathy. Puking all day is not romantic. Neither is diarrhea. So tonight would have been a nightmare, not a dream,
he answered.
Despite all that, I hope you enjoy the day off tmrw. I’ll be trying to feel normal again.

What a manipulative prick.

You are missing the point. It was like pulling teeth to get you to pencil me in for a visit. Then you couldn’t come because Ivan “might” do something. Then it was for Marshall & Company’s big options exercise. And I felt like you were just praying for me to get my period so you could get out of this one too. Why on earth would I need to beg a man to sleep with me? How would you feel if I kept blowing you off like that?

It’s not like I don’t notice you don’t call as often as you used to. Once upon a time you didn’t mind that we were blowing up each other’s phones all day long. So what happened? I have a good guess. If you are ill, then I feel terrible for you. But the fact that I’m still sitting here going “Wow, wonder if he’s really sick?” doesn’t say a lot for the state of our relationship. You lied to me before and under the circumstances you have to admit this is pretty suspicious timing. I don’t understand what you are getting out of me. It’s certainly not sex. I obviously care deeply about you. I am obviously physically attracted to you and I love our friendship, but I don’t even get the bare minimum anymore. So I have to assume someone else is. I can’t tell you how sad the whole thing makes me.

I didn’t hear from him for the rest of the day. Typical. I sent everything to Jules so she could tell me if it made sense and got my point across. She said she thought it was good, and she was glad I finally spoke up.

The next morning, I received more from him.
2 things. First, over the last two weeks my wife and I are talking about splitting up after 25 years and it has been weighing on me. Secondly, I could have tried harder the previous 2 times. I know that, but yesterday I was packed and ready to go. So you are wrong about that because I wanted to see you and have no drama. My body did not cooperate so you can believe what you want. I still feel like crap today.
You don’t need to respond to the above. Maybe we can talk on the phone tmrw or later this week if you want.

Why, so you can have all day to spend with your girlfriend uninterrupted?
I thought. I had no idea if he actually was seeing Katya or anyone else. I certainly hoped not. The idea that a man could be married and having multiple affairs seemed like an awful lot of trouble, especially for a man his age. But I could not shake the feeling that I was being played. What other reason could he possibly have for not coming up? Then the thought did occur to me that he really could be sick, and it filled me with dread that I could have freaked out and ruined our relationship over my own paranoia. So, I tried to soften my response just a little.

You have talked about splitting with your wife FOREVER. Maybe you should just stay. What it comes down to is where I fit in with all this. If someone was really that into me, should it be this difficult to see me? It’s fine if you aren’t. But one day I think this is over, and then the next day you are all hot and heavy again. I never know which Matt I’m going to get, and that’s not really fair to me, is it? Do you really think I’d rather be sitting here “believing what I want” instead of lying in bed with you right now, kissing you and touching you? Because this is a blast, let me tell you! :(

He replied:
I agree that it’s not fair to you and I wanted to make it up to you yesterday. I apologize.

I’m sorry you still feel like crap.
I wasn’t really. I hoped his intestines were twisted up into pretzel knots, actually.

He texted midday:
Last night I ate half a bowl of soup, today nothing so far.

Well, boo-fucking-hoo. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of an answer to that one.

Later that afternoon, I heard from him again. Why was he continuing to keep me in the loop if he didn’t care enough about me to see me?

I had bought a small gift for your birthday that I planned to give you. Can I mail it to your home or somewhere?

Oh, just great. I thought for a moment and responded.

All I wanted was a kiss
.

Sorry I screwed that chance up.

UGH. Must. Resist. Bullshit.

Just hold on to it for now. You didn’t need to get me anything.

Monday morning I noticed that he told Jeff in an email to get his own coffee because he was “still quite ill from yesterday” and didn’t know if he would be in. They usually met at the office in the mornings since they were the first two to arrive that early. Brooke also confirmed he had called in sick with “some stomach thing.”

He was waiting for me to decide whether or not I wanted to talk to him again, so that Tuesday I sent him a
should we talk?
text. He said he was going home for lunch and would call me in 10 minutes. He was getting ready to leave that afternoon for Miami again.

“Hey, sweetie,” he said.

I guess he felt much better.

“Hey.”

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“And you sound fine!” he said sarcastically. “So let’s talk.”

“Are you going to tell me the truth?” I asked. “I really don’t like the direction this is heading, Matt. If you don’t want this anymore, you need to stop stringing me along and just say so.”

“Mallory, I swear to you I was sick,” he claimed. “I don’t know how I can make you believe that. I was packed and ready to get in the car to come up. I wanted to see you. I still want to see you, very much.”

“I can’t take the hot and cold thing anymore. If you care about me, you need to show me. I don’t want a relationship with you where I never see you or you somehow feel forced to call me.”

“I don’t feel like that at all. I love talking to you and I want to see you! I do care about you, Mal.”

“Then
ACT
like it.”

“Okay, I know I haven’t been as attentive lately. I just have a lot going on, work is crazy, home is crazy… How about this, I’ll try to be more conscientious of your feelings if you stop worrying so much and questioning everything I do. Deal?”

“No. No deal. I’m not going to sit here and try to police you from six hours away. If I felt confident of where I stood with you, I wouldn’t have to question anything. So that’s really going to be on you.”

“Okay, I get your point. Can we please pick another day?”

“I guess. But I’m coming down there soon to visit Brooke anyway. Maybe the weekend after her birthday.”

“Oh wow, that’s next week, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well keep me posted. I’ll call you later once I land in Miami, okay?”

“Sure, do whatever you want.”

“Mallory… I DO want to.”

“Have a good flight,” I said, still angry.

“Thanks, babe. Talk to you soon.”

When I told Jules that we were sort of back “on” again, I think I heard her head slam against the nearest cement wall.

“You’ve GOT to be kidding me! What the heck did he say?”

“I think he might have actually been sick. I don’t know. I don’t know what kind of twisted hold he has on me, but I’m not ready to let him go yet. I just want him to not act like a jackass.”

“Well, yeah, but he IS a jackass!”

“I know, but I just need to see him again. If it could be anything like last time, I would be fine. The stress of not seeing him is making me nuts.”

“No, his assholish behavior is making you nuts!”

“I know. But I feel like if we could see each other more regularly, a lot of that would go away. Out of sight, out of mind, you know?”

“I thought it was absence makes the heart grow fonder?”

“Oh, shut up.”

“Bwahahaha.”

****

Just for kicks, Jules looked Katya up on Facebook because she wanted to check her out again. I reminded her that I had already done that before and the pictures weren’t very clear.

“Um, Mal, have you seen ALL of her pictures?”

“I think so. Why, what do you mean?”

“Like this one where she thinks she’s a gymnast or something?”

“WHAT!?” I said, furiously looking her up on my phone. “I can’t see anything except this one where she’s hanging on some dude who looks like her brother and one where she’s holding a baby. I hope that’s her niece. I’m going to assume that is NOT Matt’s love child.”

“Okay, well for some reason I can sometimes see pics on my phone that would otherwise be blocked to the public because there are definitely a couple more out here. My, she’s very… bendy.”

She quickly texted me a photo of Katya bent over on the floor, as if she was in a kneeling position but then brought her back all the way down flat, grabbing her legs. Shoot, I could do that. So what? I guess she was trying to be sexy. My stomach immediately felt sick as I imagined Matt behind the camera taking that picture. She was on the floor of an ugly apartment, and I couldn’t see a single piece of furniture in the entire place. Probably got in the way of her floor routine. I only saw a floor pillow next to her and one of those awful “Romanesque” fake pedestals that you buy from Walmart to make it look like you live on some sort of Italian wine estate.

Upon further examination, there was something up on that pedestal.

“What the hell is that?”

“What?” asked Jules.

“That thing… on the pedestal… is that… is that a bag of Wonderbread!?”

“What!? Let me look… Hang on.”

“I really think…”

“Dude, that totally looks like a bag of Wonderbread.”

“What on earth is homegirl doing with a bag of Wonderbread up on a pedestal in her living room?!” I exclaimed.

“Maybe she needed a sandwich after all that bending?”

“Oh. My. God.”

“That just might be the strangest thing I’ve seen in a while.”

“Maybe bread is a super-hot commodity in Ukraine and you have to treat it with much respect?” I laughed.

“I guess so. I just keep mine in a bag on the counter!”

“You know, she’s not as good looking as I thought she would be. She looks really weathered now that I see her up close, especially for her age.”

“She really does. You’re way cuter,” Jules said, reassuringly.

“Aw, you think so? Thanks!”

“She must make one hell of a sandwich though,” she added.

I checked with my mom to see if she could watch the kids for me the next Friday and Saturday. Brooke’s birthday was Thursday. I could come down Friday night, stay in a hotel, and head back home Saturday afternoon. She apologized for not letting me stay at her house so I could stay longer, but she was afraid Travis might be rude to me. Plus he had some plans for her birthday for that Saturday night. I was just glad he was letting her go out with us on Friday, so I wasn’t complaining. Besides, if I came back Saturday, it was easier on my mom too.