The Affair

I pulled into the driveway of the small rental that my fiancé and I shared. The small one bedroom house was in desperate need of a paint job, but I couldn’t see the landlord getting around to that anytime soon. In truth the place was a bit of a dump, but living on the outskirts of Seattle did not give us very many options in our price range.

I grabbed my purse off the passenger seat, ready to head inside. It had been a long day of taking orders at the coffee shop I worked at, dealing with people who just did not seem to understand that we were not a Starbucks and that we didn’t have the options that they had. More than anything I wanted to unwind in a hot bath with a good book, but unfortunately our home only had a shower.

In truth I was surprised to see Kyle’s truck parked along the curb. It was a Friday night and he usually was out at the bar with his work friends. He seemed good at making friends, unlike me. We had lived in Seattle for about six months and there was not anyone I hung out with outside of work. In truth though I was relieved he was home tonight. We could watch bad movies and eat pizza.

I opened the door to the house, hanging my purse on the hook by the door. Kyle was at the small card table in the corner, the one we used for dining. We didn’t have a true dining room area and hardly had any space for a card table, let alone a proper dining table. He had a piece of paper in his hand, and was raking his hand through his messy blonde hair.

“Oh good, you’re home,” he said. There was something in his voice. It sounded troubling. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Yep, is everything okay, babe?” I asked as I crossed the room getting closer to him. He looked up, but he was almost acting afraid to meet my eyes.

“I have been going over how to say this a million times,” he said, “I have even written it down but nothing is going to make this easy.”

I frowned, I didn’t like the tone of his voice. I had heard this type of talk before from exes. Was he going to break up with me? “We have been together for two years, and I have enjoyed being with you-- ”

“And this is where the but comes in right? You convince me to move to Seattle with you for your dream job just so you can dump me?”

“Aspen,” he moaned, “I know you’ve sacrificed so much for me, but I’m not happy. You’re not happy. Surely you knew this was coming?

I crossed my arms angrily. “Knew this was coming? When you proposed to me six months ago and we moved here, I kind of expected this to be a forever thing!”

Kyle got up from the table. “I know, I did too,” he said, “but then you just seemed to have so much trouble fitting in here and I met Gretchen.”

My anger flared. I knew exactly who Gretchen was. She was the pretty blonde twenty-two year old sister of his coworker Matt. She had been over before. She had laughed and played board games with us. Now he was leaving me for her?

“So how long have you been sleeping together?” I asked him, slamming my fist on the table.

“We haven’t,” he said, “we just both have feelings and I didn’t think it would be right to pursue that without ending things with you first.”

I laughed, “How generous! I am so happy you thought about my feelings. That will make this heart break so much easier to deal with.”

Kyle reached out his hand to touch my shoulder, but I pulled away. “I’ll pack my bags and be out of here as soon as I can.” I stormed over to the sliding glass door, pulling it open. I removed the ring from my finger, chucking it into the backyard. “Have fun looking for that.”

I fought to keep the tears back as I ran to our bedroom, slamming the door shut behind me. I threw myself onto the bed, forcing my face into my pillow as I sobbed. How could he do this to me? It didn’t make any sense. I cried for hours, highlights of our relationship on repeat in my head. Kyle didn’t come and check on me. I knew it was really over.

Finally I pulled my phone out of my pocket, and dialed the familiar number. I didn’t want to call her. I didn’t want to tell her that I needed her and dad to come get me. But even at twenty-seven years old, sometimes you still needed your mom.

The phone rang a few times before a sleepy voice answered. “Honey, it’s two in the morning, is everything ok?

“Kyle left me,” I said and I started sobbing.

“Oh sweetie I’m so sorry,” the familiar voice breathed, “I’ll send your dad over with the truck tomorrow to help you pack your things.”