Heartbreak
Callie:
Every Monday afternoon Stefan would leave his office for a late lunch, meeting me at the Motel 6 on Gretna Street. It wasn't an ideal location, but this had slowly become "our" place. Each time growing more passionate than the last, and ultimately I knew he was starting to forget about 'her.'
I had often asked him if she was pretty, and I wondered if it was she he was thinking about when we were intimate. "Callie, forget about her. Of course she is beautiful, she's my wife. She doesn't please me like you do," he caressed my neck into his strong hands, his words doing dances upon my skin. The warmth of his blood heated me, and I could feel his heart pounding profusely. "I'm falling in love with you," I tried to catch myself as the words slipped from my tongue, "I know we promised each other this would go no further than casual, but..."
Before I could finish my profound speech, confessing my true feelings for him, he had leaned down and slammed his lips into mine. Fireworks figuratively exploded all around me, leaving me feeling weightless. He lifted me into his arms, wrapping my legs around his broad waist as he made his way back to the bed. I could feel the fluff of the mattress around me as I was sunk gently, his lips leaving traces over my skin as he kissed from my lips, down to my neck, and below....
I awoke from the lucid dream drenched in cool sweat droplets throughout my body, mascara was smeared on the pillow from the tears of yesterday. My head pounded from the hangover I lacked, and my eyes felt swollen and puffed. I felt the quench of thirst burning my throat from a long night of dehydration, the aftermath of crying for hours straight.
I checked my phone longing to see a message from him, but there was nothing.
He wouldn't return my calls and messages. I would call, listen to the 4 haunting rings, followed by the pick up from the receiver repeating the same nauseating message;
"We're sorry but the person you are trying to reach is not available. At the tone, please record your message. When you are finished recording simply hang up, or press one for more options."
After the third attempt, I had stopped listening to the recording. Each time becoming more heartbreaking than the last. My mind was replaying everything that was said, along with the ones I had left unsaid.
What did I do wrong?
I texted the one person who knew about the affair, my best friend Melanie, in hopes she would come rescue me from my mind that was absentmindedly eating itself.
I need you, it's urgent. -- Cal
It didn't take long, within 20 minutes she was tapping on my door without breaks in between. Hesitatingly I opened it only to reveal her standing there with DVD's and unforeseen amounts of sweet and savory snacks. "Saddle up girlfriend, I've got everything needed to cure even the worst heartbreak. Romantic comedies and sweets galore," she brushed herself past me, welcoming herself by settling the contents in her arms onto the countertop.
I tried to concentrate on The Notebook but it was nauseating. Just last week that was the love I felt for Stefan, the same love I was clinging to. "This is your favorite," Melanie pushed the pause button, freezing the television onto the infamous boat scene. She rotated her body to face me, I felt her eyes like daggers staring right through "I'm not going to let you sit here and sulk over a man who wasn't yours," the truth stung, "He's married. What if he told his wife?" I shook my head, "That's not possible. We talked about that again and again. He was never going to tell her, said he didn't want to hurt her. She didn't please him."
She clapped her hands mockingly, "So he's even more of a tool than he was before. He used you, Callie. He got what he wanted from you, you're lucky it lasted this long. Her not pleasing him wasn't an excuse to have an affair. There's marriage counseling for a reason. Put yourself in her shoes for one second."
I was shocked to hear my best friend, of all people, taking her side. "You're supposed to be my friend, Melanie," I could feel the tears welling up within the ducts of my eyes, "You don't understand. I thought I loved him. I told him last week I loved him. I couldn't stop myself."
She wrapped me in an embrace running her fingers through my obscenely knotted and unbrushed hair, "It's going to be okay."
Like a waterfall, the tears began falling. My chest tightened and it slowly became harder and harder to breathe as I wept uncontrollably.
The remnants of the sweets were scattered across the table as the clock drew later and later, "Are you sure you don't want me to stay? I could call in sick for work tomorrow. I know you need me."
I shook my head declining the offer, "I'll be alright. It's just another heartbreak."
Melanie smiled as she collected her bag and the DVD's, making her way to the door. She closed it softly behind her, but not before flashing me another one of her reassuring smiles.
I stared at my ceiling that night and pondered on all of the memories painted with Stefan and I. Reminiscing on everything that once was, everything that we were. Trying to find where I had gone wrong, where it had started to grow sour. No matter the attempts, I came up empty.
The kisses were passionate.
The sex was even more passionate.
The conversations were passionate.
The only common denominator was her.
I had caught glimpses of her a few times before through a polaroid he kept in the slip of his wallet. Porcelain skin, dark hair, golden brown eyes, and a clear complexion that was enough to lure any man in. I knew what he saw in her, I seen it too. I didn't blame him. I envied her. Countless nights I found myself wanting to be her, laying beside a man as perfect as Stefan. 6'3, broad shouldered, tattoo sleeves covering both arms, and his back covered in one solid artistic mural. His hair was jet black, always slicked to one side, and the back kept near bald and buzzed. His beard was never kept longer than a slight stubble. He was always busy but muscular enough for anyone to question how a busy bee could find the time to keep himself in shape. There was never a moment he didn't keep himself perfectly toned and fit. In the end, however, I could see why a man as perfect as he would've wounded up with a woman equally as perfect as her. She didn't see it that way, not with the way he'd describe her.
"She isn't you. She doesn't see the good in anyone in front of her, only the good in herself."
The memory of his speech about her went off in my head like a broken record of alarm bells on repeat.
"When I married Katherine things were different. We were passionate over each other. We had plans for the future. We wanted the "American Dream"; a house on some land surrounded by a white picket fence, a couple of kids running around. I was destined to retire by the time I was 40. We had plans to travel and see the world when the children moved out and built lives of their own. After the wedding, everything changed. I wasn't home much, but when I was she failed to notice my cravings for her. I would try everything to gather her attention; breakfast in bed, spontaneous showers and romantic baths setup and drawn, sneaking up behind her while she was cooking just to be flirty and fun. All of my attempts, every last one, shot down as if I was just her husband as a title. Not her husband in the bedroom. Then I met you..."
I fell into a slumber almost as deep as I was in thought. I knew, now, the only way I would see Stefan again was in my dreams. I craved those dreams.
Tonight, however, the dreams were dark. I sank into a black sea of abyss, thick blackness that carried no end. It was as if as fast as he had disappeared, my mind was forgetting him also.
