*
I sit at a small rounded table outside the cafe, gesturing the server over with a flick of my wrist. As he scurries off to fetch my double espresso, I inspect my nails with an expert’s eye. Everything is still good, and the bright red hadn’t faded a bit. Pulling out a small mirror, I make sure that none of my makeup had been diminished in brilliance. Everything is good. Confidence surges in me. In a few minutes he arrives, pecking me lightly on the cheek before sitting across from me. I endure the bastard’s talk. This is a new place for us to meet, not more than a minute’s walk from his company building. The street is bustling with passerbies, and so I can’t quite make out what he orders. But that isn’t important, and as he speaks to me I respond lazily, not focused. My attention is behind him, to where the secretary is coming with a friend of hers. It had taken me but a day or two to find out that she always had lunch here. I invited him to see how the bitch would react to me being with him. Had he lied to her too? Or was she in on it?
When she looks over to our table, her eyes pass right over him, and although she only saw the back of his head, I know that she must have recognised him, then pretended not to react. That cinches it. She had known from the start. My mind turns into a snarling pit of venom in an instant, and mentally I curse the two of them vehemently. How dare they play me like a fool? Now his words fall on deaf ears, and I snap suddenly back into focus as he says, “Honey? What’s wrong?”
I decide to give him one last chance to come clean. “Oh, silly me,” I remark in my most coy voice, “I was distracted by that girl. Isn’t she gorgeous?” I nod towards the slut, who is just now sitting down, facing in our direction and completely ignoring us. He was going to confess as soon as he saw her. I was sure of it. Just seeing the vast difference between us two, he was going to beg for forgiveness. I look immaculate, my reddish hair reflecting inner fire, face sculpted like a goddess, while she is barely anything more than a bubbly secretary. I wait with a smirk on my face, but he says, “Well, I guess she looks okay, but I’m not really into- oh wait, I think I’ve seen her somewhere. Hmmmm...”
I stare at him in complete shock. Was he still trying to pretend he didn’t know who she was? Was he going to take me for a complete idiot? Did he really think I was that stupid? Everything spins around me, and my emotions take over completely. I had done everything for him, aside from plastic surgery, and he never noticed, never cared, as if I were never beautiful enough for him. I toiled in front of a mirror every day for years, and he never acknowledged a thing! That mirror was worth more than him. He goes around behind my back, and now he thinks he can pretend he didn’t do anything wrong?!
When I open my mouth, I intend fully to be calm and collected, to explain that I knew everything and that he had wronged me and that I deserve better. However, the words that leave my mouth escape in a screech, stopping everybody around us dead in their tracks. I call him the worst names possible, I point to her and scream my rage. He looks at me first in muted silence, then as I say everything I know, about his sneaking around as well as his cheating ways, his eyes twinkle in understanding, and as I break into sobs in spite of myself he looks oddly angry. In his face is a mixture of anger and sadness, but the bastard still won’t show me guilt. Hating myself, I understand that I was still willing to forgive him, as long as he apologizes and makes it better. I still love him, after all.
But when I look up, I realize that I’m all alone at the table. He was walks away, and I barely glimpse his suit disappearing into the crowd of people going about their daily lives. It takes me a few minutes to collect myself, and when I do I go to the ladies’ room, ignoring the secretary who was still looking at me in apparent bewilderment. I fix my makeup at the mirror, pay and leave. I’m sure they are going to meet up later, after I’m gone.
Screw the two of them. His lies won’t get to me, and I’m not going to let him back into my heart when he comes crawling back.
**
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