A Wifey for the Bad Boy(229)

Later that night Denise called. I was distant and rude and I shouldn't have been but I needed to sort things out with Bea. I thought I had gotten everything I ever wanted but it wasn't how I'd imagined it. It still wasn't true. It was cloaked in the mask of friendship, but we had gone beyond that. I was plunged back into the darkness of my teenage despair, and although I had moved to the big city and was successful in my career I still felt the way I did when I was fifteen, completely helpless.

I tried to imagine what I could say to Bea but now she was back to being herself I she was difficult to read. She came back and we made love again, but this time I couldn't give it my all like I had before. I keep looking at her, wondering if she knew the depth of feeling I had for her, and if she did then how could she treat me in such a manner. Didn't she know that she was hurting me?

After it was over we lay in silent, the silver moonlight streaking through a gap in the curtains, a slash against her body. I reached over with my hand and ran it along her stomach. She turned and cuddled up to me. She looked so peaceful, so innocent, and I couldn't believe that she would perform such a heinous act against me, to take the love I offered and use it as a salve.

When we weren't making love we were friends. It was a confusing time and I didn't know what to make of it. I know I should have talked to her about it but I didn't want to rock the boat. I knew that once I revealed my true feelings for her it would all be over and she wouldn't want to keep doing it because she would finally be aware of how much it was hurting me.

Denise kept calling as well. The longer it went on the more I hated myself for ignoring her. I managed to avoid her at work but eventually I knew I had to go and see her. We went to the same pancake place we'd gone to on our first date. She dabbed the corners of her mouth in the same manner, but this time I didn't feel the same adoration for her. All my affection was focused on Bea and I didn't have room for anyone else.

“It's her, isn't it?” Denise said. I'd never mentioned me feelings for Bea directly, but Denise had picked up on it.

“It was all in the way you looked at her, or the things you didn't say when you were talking about her. No offense, but I don't see what the big fuss is? She doesn't do anything but treat people mean, and she's only ever taken advantage of your good nature. If it wasn't or you she'd be out on the streets.”

“I think that's a little harsh,” I said, my hackles rising as I sought to defend my queen.

“You always cover her rent and she uses that place like a bedsit. She comes and goes as she pleases without letting you know, and she brings home all manner of guys-”

“It's not that bad, you don't understand, nobody understands her like I do,” I said, interrupting Denise before she could go on and on and on. I didn't need to hear anything else negative about Bea. I'd been hearing that all my life and it was getting to be a tired and monotonous song.

“Maybe that's true,” Denise said, her tone softening, “you know, I'm not even mad at you. I knew this day was coming.”

“You did?”

“I knew you never loved me. You liked me a lot, and we had fun together, but even when we were in bed it was like she was there, always between us. You would have done anything for her, but you wouldn't have gone that far from me.”

“I'm sorry, Denise.”

“I know you are. You're a good person, and I just find it sad that you've wasted your heart on her,” she said, and in her eyes I saw pity. I drummed my fingers on the table and looked down, feeling the weight of my burden. To love someone was no easy thing, and it sure took its toll. Having Denise there was helpful, and her contact was reassuring. I wish I could have kept her around, told her that I could have been with her because I knew that she was safe and she would have cared for me in the same way that I cared for Bea, and at that moment I burst into tears. I think Denise was about to leave, but when she saw the condition I was in she came around the table and knelt down in front of me, comforting me in the same way as I had comforted Bea after her breakup, but I knew that this time it wasn't going to lead to sex.

“What's wrong?” she cooed.

“What am I supposed to do with my love? It's all there for her to take but she won't. She just wants to keep it casual, a hook up, like I'm just there to make her feel better. How can I get her to see that I love her?” I said, tears blurring my vision. I sniffed and rubbed my sleeve against my nose.

“You have to talk to her,” Denise said, but it was the one thing I didn't want to do. It had been a secret for so long that I couldn't fathom how I could tell her. “It's never going to get better unless you tell her, and she's never going to know. Listen, she's self-absorbed and she's not going to figure it out for herself. For your own sake you should do this. Get it all out in the open. It's about time. Look at yourself, the love you have for her is killing you.” She let the words sink in. “Take care of yourself,” she said, kissing me on the cheek, tasting my tears, then squeezing my shoulder as she walked away, tossing a few crisp notes on the table. Her footsteps echoed away as I was faced with the only course of action left. I knew that I had to tell Bea, and in my heart I feared that Denise was right and that Bea would never care for me in the way I wanted her to, but after all this time I owed myself the truth.