I contemplate opening it, but do I want to see any more? Eventually I give in; it’s like a bad accident that I just can’t look away from. The message is yet another picture, this time of Berklee in the bar, I think by the door. Barry has her pulled in to his chest, holding her, his chin resting on her head. Motherfucker! I throw my phone across the room, not giving two shits if it’s in shambles. It can match my heart.
She just fucking broke me. The love of my life just ripped my heart out.
Hours later, I turn off the TV and try to get some sleep. It’s pointless though, as I toss and turn most of the night. Why did Carly send those pictures? Berklee has never given me any reason not to trust her. But the pictures speak for themselves. Will she admit it? Will she tell me the truth when I confront her? The images will not get out of my head. Eventually I do fall asleep from pure exhaustion, only to be woken up a few short hours later to catch my flight.
Once my plane lands, I pull out my phone that survived being thrown against the wall and text Berklee.
Me: You home?
Berklee: No, on my way to your place. I was going to try to surprise you.
Me: You did.
Berklee: Haha. See you soon.
I shove my phone back in my pocket and head to the parking lot. I need to see her, hold her in my arms and know this is all in my head. I’ll be able to tell if she’s hiding something then, when she’s in my arms.
I hope it’s all just a ploy on Carly’s part. She’s one of those women who will go to any lengths to get what she wants, and she’s got it in her head that she wants me. I’ve seen the way she watches me.
I don’t give a fuck what she wants. She’ll never be Berklee.
When I pull in the drive, she’s already there. I left a key for her on the nightstand yesterday when I left, hoping this would be the outcome, just not with my mind plagued with questions.
“Honey, I’m home,” I call out for her.
“Hey,” she says, coming into the kitchen. “I missed you.” She walks straight into my arms and holds on to me like she’s never going to see me again.
Please, please let it not be what it looks like.
“I can see that. I missed you too,” I say, lifting her and setting her on the kitchen counter. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her. I give her all of me. She’s reluctant at first, but then she kisses me like she always does, responds like she always does.
She wouldn’t be kissing me like I’m the air she breathes if she was with him, right?
“Hey, can we come back here tonight? I kind of have something that I need to talk to you about,” she says, pulling away from my lips.
“Sure. Or we can talk now, if you want?” Is she going to confess? Was the kiss all just an act? I don’t think I can wait until later tonight.
“No, tonight is good. Unless you have something going on?”
She’s wringing her hands together in her lap. She’s nervous and I feel the familiar ache, the one that crushed my chest last night when I first saw the pictures. It’s true.
“No, but we have time now. We can talk now,” I say, not letting her get out of it. Why wait a few hours? It’s just like pulling off a Band-Aid; let’s get it over with. Not knowing, or knowing and her not knowing that I know, is killing me.
Her phone on the counter vibrates. Looking down, I see the screen and the message it displays. She reaches for it, but it’s too late. I read what it said.
Barry: Did you tell him yet?
Barry: He deserves to know.
All at once my vision blurs and my heart is pounding in my chest. It’s true. I have her up on this fucking pedestal in my mind and all this time, right under my nose. No wonder she was fine with me leaving, acting as if it was no big deal.
I take a step back from her. “So it’s true, then. That’s what you want to talk about I assume?” I point down at her phone, seething mad.
“Crew, listen. I don’t know how you found out but I was going to tell you, I promise.”
“Right, later. You needed to ‘talk.’ Were you going to let me make love to you first? One more night together?” I bark out. “I can’t believe this.”
“Please, just listen to what I have to say.”
“Listen? You expect me to listen after that?” I point to her phone again. “I thought I knew you. I thought I could trust you.”
“You can,” she sobs. “Please let me explain.”
I laugh. “Really, Berklee? No explanation needed. I need you to leave.”
“What?” she sobs.
“Leave! I don’t want you here. You lied to me. How can I forgive that?”
“I didn’t,” she sobs. “Can we please just talk about this?”
“No. I’m done. I want you out of my life.” Fuck, she’s in every facet of my life. She fucking works for me. “I’ll be sure you get a good severance package.” Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath to prepare for what I say next. “Goodbye, Berklee.” It pains me to say it as much as it pains me that she cheated on me. Lied to me.
I turn and walk out of the house. Away from the only woman I’m positive I will ever love. Away from the future I had planned for us.
My world just tilted on its axis, and I have no idea if it will ever be right again.
HE LEFT ME. Just walked out and left me. No discussion. Nothing. Just walked out on me, on us.
I rub my still-flat belly. I had myself convinced that he would be upset but we could work through it. That he loved me like I love him.
I was wrong.
After I get myself somewhat under control, I lock his house, although I’m not sure why I care after the way he treated me. I take my time driving home, tears running unchecked down my face. I try to calm down as I know it’s not good for the baby.
My baby. Just mine.
He doesn’t want us.
Barry and Maggie are both out today and I’m grateful. I just want to be alone. Turning off my phone, I curl up in bed and cry myself to sleep.
That’s how Maggie finds me hours later. I have no idea what time it is, but it’s now dark outside.
“Hey, you feeling okay? I was at the Club and Zane said you took the night off, said Crew told him you wouldn’t be in. Also said Crew was in a pissy mood. I take it you told him?”
“No.” I fight another round of tears threatening to fall. “I didn’t get a chance to. He knew. I don’t know how he knew, but he did. He saw a message on my phone from Barry asking if I had told him yet and he flew off the handle. He was so angry, Mags.”
She climbs into bed with me. “I’m sorry, B. Maybe he just needs time to process it.”
“He knew, Mags. He didn’t act surprised. He just blew up. I told him I needed to talk to him tonight and he kept pushing to talk then. That’s when Barry’s text came through and he knew. How did he find out?”
“I don’t know, sweetie. I can tell you that neither Barry nor I told him.”
“Did I hear my name?” Barry asks from my door. “Hey, what happened? Is everything okay?”
“No, everything is not okay. He doesn’t love me. He doesn’t want me or this baby.”
“What?” He steps back like I slapped him. “How is that possible? I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Hell, he pisses around you any time another male even gets close.”
“Apparently pregnant me is not what he wants,” I sob.