Not a single day passes that I don't spend the night with Brett, well that is if you don't count Thursdays. Caleb has reassured me on more than one occasion that Brett isn't with Sarah. He says they meet up and go drinking at the bar for a few hours. It still burns when Brett disappears though.
Every other night, Brett comes to my apartment, or Daisy and I go to his. For someone who claims to be a dog person, he sure does love that cat. I don't have to bring her every time I go to his place, but he usually insists. He once gave me the silent treatment when I showed up alone.
We still don't talk about Sarah. I know what you are thinking. How can you not talk about the crazy, hot blonde elephant in the room? Well, it's easy. Denial is a hell of a tool. I just pretend like she doesn't exist. I know doing that doesn't help us move forward. It also means I don't have to face the fact that my boyfriend, who I'm in love with but who doesn't reciprocate, is married to another woman. Maybe I'm the crazy one not her, or at least that is what I thought until Sarah came prancing back into my life.
It was Wednesday afternoon and I was doing Brett's grocery shopping. He gave up on me making the list a few weeks ago, and just started giving me his credit card so I could do the shopping myself. At first I was a little uncomfortable spending his money, but the third time he brought home cottage cheese instead of cream cheese I snatched his card and walked out.
Today was a very adventurous trip to the store. I'm focused on the row of spices, trying to figure out the lowest price on garlic powder when someone plows into me.
"Shit! I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying attention. Jesse?" I see a woman with black hair who I vaguely recognize.
"Ummm...yes," I respond questioningly. I should know this woman, but I can't seem to place her face.
"Sarah Sharp, remember?" she says, filling in the blank and making my skin curl.
"Oh, um...hey," I say, turning back to the shelf, hoping she'll walk away.
"Do you live around here?"
"Yeah, just down the street," I clip in her direction.
"Hey, while you're here let me ask you a question. I'm making Brett a big anniversary dinner tomorrow, and I was wondering if you know a good side dish to go with the steaks I'm making?" Seriously, I must be confused, there is no way Sarah is standing here asking me for recipes.
"Um...what?"
"Brett loves my cooking, but tomorrow is our anniversary so I want to do something special. You know, spice things up a little." She laughs a hollow sound that sends chills down my spine.
"Um, baked potatoes?" I mumble then push my cart forward trying unsuccessfully to get away from her.
"Jesse, I think we got off on the wrong foot. Let's start over." She sounds sincere making me pause only long enough to see the sarcastic smile on her face.
Last time I came face to face with her, she ran the show. She pushed my buttons and tortured me with information about her and Brett. I've tried to forget about her, but you can't pretend someone doesn't exist when they are coldly mocking you in the middle of a grocery store. I'm not going to let her pull this crap again.
"Sarah, I have no recipes to share with you, nor do I have any desire to kiss and make up. You can make whatever the heck you want to tomorrow, but just know that at the end of the night he will be in my bed."
Was it dirty to say that to her? Heck yes! Did it feel better than winning the lottery? Heck yes! Did it hurt like crazy when she slapped me across the face? Hell yes!
"You fucking whore! You think Brett cares about you? Well guess what bitch...he loves me. He always has and always will. The difference between me and you is I have him and you never will."
"Right." I try to walk away, my face still stinging, but apparently Sarah wasn't finished yet. She yanks my arm digging her fingernails into my flesh and snatches me around to once again face her.
"Stay the fuck away from my husband," she says, finding the chink in my armor. My husband.
As bad as her words hurt, I know this is a worthless conversation. Sarah isn't just damaged, she's destroyed. I'm not arguing with a sane woman. She's delusional and manipulative. No verbal sparring is going to win this argument. This time I don't cower though. I'm done with that. We both know Brett is mine. Heck, everyone but Brett knows that. This conversation is about her.
"Sarah Erickson," I purposely use her maiden name. Yeah, that fancy new laptop Brett got me may have googled her. "I am going to pretend you didn't just put your hands me. I am going to pretend you didn't just call me a bitch. Hell, I'm even willing to forget you followed me here today." This little chance meeting is too much of a coincidence for her not to have followed me. I don't have time to really let that sink in though. "I'm not, however, willing to let go of the fact that you think this is somehow a competition between the two of us. Sarah, you need help. You need to talk to a counselor, and you need to visit Manda and once and for all let go of your guilt."