Imperfect Truth(50)

“I’m always here, I go nowhere.”

“No, you’re stuck on the computer, stuck on your phone. Always busy reading. I miss my wife. Where is she? I want her back.” He pauses as realization crashes down on him “Is that it? Is that where you met this guy?

“No, actually I met him at your mom’s fucking fundraiser. While she was insulting me, and you were too busy playing with your girlfriend.”

He looks around, gathering his thoughts, as he runs his hands through his hair. With each passing second, the locks become more tousled as he becomes tense with emotion. “Do you even regret sending those texts?"

“Why should I? You show no emotion towards me, you act as if I’m not even here. If I got what I needed, I wouldn’t have to look elsewhere. On top of all that, you never fight for me. You allow your parents to treat me like dirt. Don’t I matter?” My body is shaking. My whole world is crashing down on me. My marriage is crumbling.

“Always back to them. You didn’t seem to mind them when they paid for this apartment.”

“You think I care about that? You think I care about any of this? I would rather have nothing and have us be happy. I refuse to be your Stepford wife. I would rather die than sell my soul to your family.” I want to take back all of my hurtful comments, but the moment has already passed. It’s already too late. I might have betrayed him. But then I think, he betrayed me. Every time he didn’t speak up, he betrayed me.

“I can’t deal with this now,” he snarls.

“Obviously, God forbid, Alexandre that you stay here with me and talk this out,” He walks to the front hall. “Seriously, you’re going to walk out without discussing this?”

“Yup!” he exclaims. The door slams.

Stunned.

My eyes blink rapidly as I try to understand what just happened.

Completely and utterly perplexed. Is he coming back? Are we done?

Sad…

Confused…

Relieved…

I don’t know what to think anymore.

The old Ava would have run after him; I would have begged for forgiveness from all the ugliness I’ve spewed. Before Ryder, I would have been petrified of not having him to fall back on.

Not scared anymore. Too tired to be anything. Too emotionally drained to contemplate what this means for us.

Will he leave?

Will he come back?

Will he fight for us?

I finally gather the strength to check my phone, to see the text message that set this all in motion.



Ryder: Same baby. This feeling, it transcends all sound, all sight, it’s pure emotion.



His words are like a balm to my tortured soul.



Me: I need you.

Ryder: What happened, baby?

Me: I think he left me.

Ryder: why?

Me: Because he saw your text message.



I stare at my phone willing it to chime with his response.

1 Minute…

5 Minutes…

10 Minutes…

11 minutes…

12 minutes…

15 minutes…

16 minutes…

I sign onto Facebook. I see him online. I know he is there.

I can see him bantering on posts, liking comments, starting new threads. He is active, just not with me. He just chooses not to respond to me. Why does he keep doing this? He comments on the thread he had started. He is talking about the takeover he will be doing at 8 pm tonight. I can’t possibly stay here. I can’t watch this. I can’t stand the idea that his banter will become flirty. This avoiding me and knowing he is right here playing with someone else is killing me.

Sleep, back to sleep for me… Shit. It’s not even 5 pm…Leave.

I grab my bag, and walk towards the door. I realize that I’m still in my pajamas. Wow, have I even brushed my teeth? I honestly don’t know.

Shaking my head I venture to make myself presentable. My head aches as I remove my shirt. Everything hurts. I can’t even feasibly take off my own shirt. There is no way I’m going out. I hurt so bad, I can barely walk to my own bed, as I gather the energy I pull the sheets above me, and I lay motionless in my bed. My life is spinning madly around me; I’m so lost. I reach next to my bed and pull out the pill container.

This day needs to pass.

It needs to be tomorrow.

I take the small white pill, .25 mg of Xanax and place it in my mouth. The taste is bitter as it starts to dissolve on my tongue. As it travels down my throat it scratches at me. I lay back down and wait for my life to calm.





OPENING MY EYES, I look over to the clock, and it's after midnight. Alexandre is asleep next to me. I guess he decided to play ignorant and pretend we didn’t fight. How he can breathe next to me? Just knowing he is beside me chokes the life out of me. It’s tomorrow. Thank God, I missed the takeover. I decide it’s safe. I open my messenger.