Then There Was You(95)

After several days, a few cases of beer, and my desperate attempts at forgetting this ever happened, I finally managed to find the courage to text Salem for the first time after she basically told me to fuck off. I figured I had a snowball’s chance in hell to make things right, but I knew I at least needed to try.





I couldn’t even explain how hopelessly devastated I felt. Learning of the infidelity in my marriage sucker-punched me in the gut and wounded my soul, so hearing the truth from Chris brought back the pain all over again. I was beginning to think something was wrong with me. Why do I always seem to drive men into the arms of other women?

I had an ache in my chest that never let up. The fissure in my heart grew bigger and bigger with each passing day. It would only be a matter of time before my battered heart would splinter and shatter into a million pieces; I’d been trying to convince myself that it hadn’t done that already.

I found it difficult to breathe most days, and found it tough to do even the simplest of tasks. I would curl up in my bed at night, trying to forget him—trying to go to sleep without him creeping up in my dreams. Without fail, I’d fall asleep and he’d be standing there, holding his arms out to me while I fought the urge to run into them.

Several days had passed. I was standing in my office, mindlessly filing paperwork, numbly going through the motions when got the first text.



Chris: I’m so sorry, Salem. Please let me explain.



Did he honestly think he could explain his way out of fucking another girl? I deleted the text, grabbed my notebook off my desk, and walked down the hall toward my next intake interview, trying to remember how to put one foot in front of the other.

It was only a few short hours before I received another text.



Chris: Look, I know I don’t deserve it, but please just give me a chance. Hear me out. Please.



Just seeing his name pop up on my screen messed with my head, so I deleted that text while I tried to convince myself that I didn’t need him in my life.

I was folding laundry in my bedroom, waiting for Alexis to call me to come pick her up from Olivia’s house, when the ringtone that almost brought me to my knees blared from my cell phone. I may have been a glutton for punishment, but after our trip to New York, I’d assigned Chris’s ringtone as “Broken” by Seether. The words of the song reminded me so much of our history, when all I wanted to do was take away his pain as a teenager, and then years later, while he was gone on tour, how broken and lonely I felt without him. I quickly swiped my finger across the screen to ignore the call, not only because I couldn’t bear to talk to him, but because the words of the song sliced through my heart like a hot knife on butter.

Within seconds another text popped up from Chris.



Chris: I understand why you won’t answer my call. I deserve it, but for the record, I’ll never give up. And for what it’s worth, I’m truly fucking sorry. I hope someday you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I just wish you’d give me a chance to explain.



I stared at the text a few extra seconds longer than the last one before I hit delete again. For a brief moment, I considered forgiving him. But was he sorry for what he did, or was he just sorry he got caught? I couldn’t believe I was even debating it. According to the oh-so-obvious pictures from the tabloids, he slept with one of his groupies, a skank who flung herself at him like an easy lay. He’s not the man you thought he was. He’s just another rock star playboy… exactly like the tabloids had him pegged.

I stomped into the bathroom, tapping my foot anxiously while I stared at my miserable reflection in the mirror. I needed to do something to get my mind off of things. Screw it, I’m going out, I told myself.

Alexis was spending the night at her dad’s, and I had nothing tying me down at home. I called up a girlfriend of mine that I hadn’t seen in months. That was one thing I loved about her. We could go months without talking to each other, but pick right back up where we left off as if not a day had passed. Those were the best kinds of friendships.

“Paige, you think you could ditch the family for a night and have a girl’s night out?”

“When? Tonight?” she asked in her sweet, southern drawl.

I felt almost manic, eager to pick up and leave my anger and bitter disappointment behind. “Yeah. Alexis is spending the night at her dad’s, and I could really use a friend and a drink. Whaddya say?”

“Sure, let me tell Jay,” she said. Then clamping her hand on the microphone to muffle the sound, she yelled, “Jay, I’m gonna go out with Salem tonight, okay? I’ll be home late. You can handle baths and bed, right?” Her voice rang clear again and she confirmed, “Okay, I’ll swing by your house around nine. Wanna hit up The Cellar or Harvest Moon?”