“I’ll be back for my ring tomorrow,” I argue, voice trembling.“You don’t need to be home when—”
“Will you please just stop!”He gives my shoulder a small shake.
“I said I’m fine, Matt.”
“Right.”He gives me a level look.
“Forget it, okay?This is not your problem.”
“You’re wrong.This hits way too close to home.”
I frown.
“No, I can’t go there.”He shakes his head, gesturing to a folded tracksuit on the nearby chair.“I could really use some fresh air.Why don’t you freshen up and join me in the backyard?Some company would be really nice.”A tender smile touches his lips.
I hesitate, then nod.“It’s the least I can do.”
“Good.”His smile widens.
Clutching the tracksuit, I seek refuge in the bathroom.The mirror reflects a stranger with red-rimmed eyes and messy makeup.I unzip my dress.It slides down my body and pools at my feet.The fabric feels tainted.
I turn the knob.The showerhead sputters to life, releasing a torrent of water that fills the space with a soothing hiss.Steam billows around me as I step under the spray.
Sweat and tears quickly wash away.But the memories cling to me.
I close my eyes, inhaling the fragrant soap.Lavender.Fresh.A scent of peace I can’t quite reach.
My one question, whispered to the falling water, echoes in my mind.
“Why did you propose to me?”
The first time, James had smiled and said,“Because I love you, silly.I want you in my life.”Empty words.
With each repetition, his patience wore thin.
“How many times are you going to ask me that?”
I should have known.
Dinners left uneaten, growing cold as I waited for him to come home.
That was my answer.
Nights spent tossing alone in our bed until he finally stumbled in at dawn, the faint scent of another woman’s perfume a silent accusation in the darkness.
That was my answer.
Countless plans abandoned, replaced with last-minute excuses and empty promises.
That was my answer.
A sob catches in my throat.
I have been clinging to a fantasy.A desperate hope that he would go back to being the man I fell in love with.But that man is gone, if he ever existed at all.
His deception is a rot inside me.
I scrub my skin raw, desperate to erase the lingering touch of James and the memory of his betrayal.Matthew’s kiss too, and the fleeting hope he ignited.
