He winces and brings his hand up to his freshly shaven cheek. That’s when the floodgates open. Tears dampen my neck as they spill down my painted face uncontrollably, causing me to stifle back unattractive sobs. All the air has left my lungs, like I’ve been punched in the gut. I try to breathe in the crisp, cold air, but my body denies me the ability to do so. Choppy, rapid breaths escape me as I hunch over, like a runner who’s just finished a marathon. Declan reaches over to help, but I swat his hand away, trying to regain composure.
“Get the hell away from me. I’m calling a cab. I can’t stand the sight of you.”
“I won’t let you go home by yourself, Mia. Please, let me go in there and make up some excuse. I’ll take you home. We can…talk.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, Declan. You cheated on me, you’re having an affair and my world is falling apart outside your fucking office Christmas party.” I can’t contain the sobs now. Thank God we are out here alone. Aside from the valet attendant, who is getting a pretty entertaining show right now.
“It’s not like that at all, Mia. Please, let me explain. I’m sorry. I’m sorry you had to find out like this and I’m—I’m just so sorry.”
I reach into my clutch and pull out my cell phone to call information for a car service. “No, Declan, you’re just sorry I found out. I’m going home. Go have fun with—wait a goddamn minute. Is she in there? Do I know her?” I start to push my way past Declan, toward the revolving door.
But he stops me.
“Mia, please calm down. You don’t deserve to be embarrassed here tonight.”
“No, I don’t. But you definitely do. Who the fuck is she?”
He closes his eyes and I watch his shoulders rise and fall with calculated breaths. “She’s not here, I swear. It’s not what you think. It was—it was a one-time thing.”
Yeah, and I’m an even bigger fool than the one I must look like right now. “I’m sure. Well, in that case, I hope your one night stand was worth losing it all.” I turn my back to him, unable to look at his traitorous face any longer, and I bring my hands up to my eyes, sobbing again.
Declan tries to comfort me by wrapping his arms around me, but without even thinking my arms flail wildly, punching his arms, his chest, his stomach, over and over again.
I guess this finally grabs the valet’s attention because he hurries over to us. “Miss, are you okay? Is this man bothering you?” He scans Declan from head to toe, clenching his ready fists at his side.
“I’m not just some man, I’m her husband. Please, let us handle this.”
“No, actually he is bothering me. Would you mind calling me a cab? I want to go now.” I know by doing this I’m only running away, but the car ride home with Declan would be like enduring a slow death by boiling.
Declan makes one more attempt to try to calm me down, to try and explain himself, but the valet attendant is between us now. He shouts over the boy’s head, “Mia, baby, I love you. I never meant for this to happen.”
I don’t even give him the satisfaction of an answer. I turn to the curb to wait for the cab. After a long and lonely minute the only sound I hear is the clicking of Declan’s shoes on the pavement, getting further and further away.
It’s not ‘til I get home, walk into my empty house, that the reality starts to sink in. My husband had an affair. An affair. Saying it over and over in my head doesn’t weaken its meaning. What a dumb word to describe—this. What he did. Affair seems too formal, too politically correct, to encompass what it really means. It’s bullshit! That’s what it is. Pure, heart wrenching, holy-shit-this-is-not-happening-to-me bullshit!
How will I tell my parents? My friends? The girls. This will devastate them. Am I going to be divorced at twenty-eight years old? How did I miss the warning signs? What did I do to deserve this?
I collapse on the couch, already tired from the unremitting tears and the questions popping up like microwave popcorn in my head. I cry so hard my body shakes, trembling and convulsing. I run to the bathroom because the sobs have lodged themselves in my throat, causing me to gag and heave. I fall down to my knees in front of the toilet and spew my guts up. I’ve had stomach flus, drunken wild nights, and morning sickness, but vomit has never left my body this violently before.
I rest my head on the toilet, giving in to the self-inflicted mental and physical beating I’ve just taken and I hear the sound of the front door slam shut, followed by frantic footsteps.
“Mia, baby? Mia? Where are you?”