Total pages in book: 25
Estimated words: 23425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 23425 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 117(@200wpm)___ 94(@250wpm)___ 78(@300wpm)
“Cheating…on you?” My voice, like the rest of me, is trembling.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Cheryl replies with a nod. “Russ didn’t tell you he was engaged?”
My heart sinks. “No, he didn’t.”
“Well, I’m his fiancée,” she replies, pointing at herself. “I told him I was going away on a conference for work because I suspected he was up to something, and it looks like I was right.”
My heart continues to sink. My stomach twists, and a sickly feeling begins to come over me. This can’t be happening just as I was beginning to place my trust in him.
“I…you can’t be…”
“I can’t be serious?” Cheryl asks. “Russ teaches at Pineside, right? He has a few friends named Jim, Nate, and Tyler. Maybe you’ve met them, maybe you haven’t. We met years ago when he approached me at a bar with a silly pickup line. We dated for a couple of years before he proposed.”
Cheryl extends her hand and shows me a beautiful engagement ring that causes my jaw to drop.
“Wow…” is all I can say.
“Yeah, that’s what all the other women would say to him,” Cheryl scoffs. “And he wasn’t strong enough to remember his commitment to me.”
The eyes she’s giving me now – I can see exactly that she’s including me in that group of other women, and I immediately feel defensive. “I – I’m so sorry!” I stammer. “I didn’t know! I never would have – I didn’t know!”
“Oh, sweetie, it’s not your fault!” Cheryl says, her voice sweet like a mother as she takes my hands in hers. “Russell is the lying, cheating, son of a bitch. He did both of us wrong here!”
“Yeah…” I mutter as I look down at my feet, feeling more despondent than ever. “So you’ve come home? You live here?”
“Yeah,” Cheryl replies. “I wasn’t due back for another week. I don’t know what he was planning to do with you then.”
Well, that does it. I can’t stay here for the rest of the day – not with her here. There’s just no way. She may be a nice woman for all I know, but just knowing who she is and what she’s been through with Russell would make that absolute torture for me. And I can’t even imagine how things would be when he gets back and we’re both here.
No, I’m leaving.
I turn around and start back upstairs. “Where are you going?” Cheryl calls after me.
“To get my things,” I call back. “I’m going to text my friend to come get me.”
“Oh, don’t bother, sweetie,” Cheryl replies, following after me. “I can take you. My car’s outside.”
“No, really,” I say. “She’ll be happy to come and get me.”
I pull out my phone to text Alyssa, but Cheryl gently pushes it back down and takes my hand into hers. “Honestly, sweetie, it’s no problem.” There’s something about her smile that’s comforting, even in this terrible situation.
I gather up my things and follow her downstairs, out the front door and to her car, which is waiting in the driveway. Not wanting to be alone right now, I give her Alyssa’s address and send her a text letting her know I’m on my way over. Immediately after, I get a response reading:
I was just about to text you back. We have a little…situation.
Oh God. Just what I need.
Situation?
Again, the response is instantaneous.
It’s your dad…
“Oh, fuck…” I groan.
“Problem, sweetie?” Cheryl asks.
“I…it’s nothing,” I lie. The last thing I want to do right now is get into my family issues with this woman. But how could this be? Is the universe just paying me back after having such a perfect day yesterday?
I keep my mouth shut for the ride over to Alyssa’s, and Cheryl, sensing I must want to be left alone, keeps hers closed as well. But when we pull up out front and park, she gives me a very friendly smile and a pat on the knee.
“I’m really sorry about all this,” she says. “We women just have to stick together, you know? That’s why I’m not taking any of this out on you. I mean – you didn’t know he was cheating on me. It’s not your fault.”
“Yeah, I understand…” I reply. It’s all I can do to just form a sentence with the tornado of emotions raging within me.
“If I were you, I would just cut him off,” she says. “Don’t waste any time trying to get an apology out of him. Men are no better than dogs, and if you invest any more emotional energy into him, you’re just going to get hurt more.”
I nod. Don’t cry. Don’t cry.
“I’m gonna go now,” I tell her, opening the car door. “Thanks for the ride.”
The last thing I hear as I’m stepping out is her voice calling out, “Take care!”
I swing my bag over my shoulder and march up the lawn to Alyssa’s apartment as quickly as I can, still feeling sick, my legs trembling and wondering what in the world her text about my dad could have meant. It’s always something with him, and while I’m not worried about his health, I am worried.