The Other Other Woman (14 page)

“Fine. Goodbye.”

So now I was more drama. I called Jules back to give her the rundown of the ridiculous conversation we just had. She was not surprised.

“Okay, wait, so he’s mad at YOU for calling him out on his lie? He turned it around on you?”

“Yeah, basically.”

“Uh huh. And how did you not tell him to go fuck himself?”

“I don’t know. I really don’t.”

“He thought that you were being harsh, huh? Boy, he has a lot to learn about you.”

“Yeah, I thought I took it pretty easy on him, actually. I didn’t even make him cry.”

“Has that old fool not heard the expression, ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned?’ And does he not know that it was made up for you, in particular?!” she laughed.

“HEY! I’m not
that
bad, am I? I still don’t know what to do, though. I really care about him. He means the world to me, Jules.”

“I bet he has a date.”

“Oh God, don’t think I didn’t think of that. But there’s no way for me to find that out.”

“I don’t like him.”

“I don’t either at the moment.”

“You know, I never trust a man that calls me baby or sweetie, anyway. That’s just so he doesn’t get confused and call out the wrong name!

“Oh come on, that’s ridiculous! I call him the same thing! It’s sweet.”

“If you say so,” she replied. “So he’s going to call you later?”

“Yeah, I guess so, I don’t know. I really wasn’t expecting this at all.”

“Well, let me know what happens tonight.”

He sent me a text around 11 p.m.

I’m going to sleep, not in a very talkative mood.

I didn’t bother responding.

The next day I heard nothing from him. I guess that was my punishment for my harsh words. Now he was going to act like I never existed? That’s always a good feeling. I went for a long run that day, trying to clear my head, replaying the week’s events and trying to figure out where I had gone wrong. All that I could gather was that he lied to me and instead of ignoring it, I called him on it, which is clearly unacceptable and some sort of violation in Matt’s world. His wife must have been conditioned over the years to never question him or stick up for herself.

It was strange; I knew I was 100% in the right. He was 100% wrong. But as more time went on without hearing from him, I cared less and less about being right. I just missed him. I missed the man I talked to every single day, often multiple times. I missed the sound of his voice. I just wanted things to be back to normal.

“Are you KIDDING me?” Jules asked, still insulted on my behalf. No, I wasn’t kidding. I wished I could just say, “Screw you and the horse you rode in on!” If it had been anyone else, I would have. I’ve never put up with a bunch of bullshit, certainly not from a man. But he was more than some boy toy to me, he was also my friend. I couldn’t possibly mean so little to him that he would treat me this way. I convinced myself that he was clearly going through something much bigger than me, didn’t handle it well, and needed time to cool off.

Late Monday afternoon, a strange number popped up on my phone at work. It was from an area code I hadn’t seen before; it wasn’t 305 like in Miami. I almost let it roll to voicemail thinking it was a telemarketer, but grabbed it at the last second.

“This is Mallory…”

“Can I speak to Zoopie, please?” My breath got caught in my throat and my eyes welled with tears as soon as I heard his voice. The irony of this was not lost on me. I hadn’t shed a single tear regarding my separation or impending divorce yet. But the man could bring me to tears just by speaking my nickname.

“Hey… I didn’t recognize the number. I almost didn’t pick up.”

“I’m glad you did,” he said softly.

“Where are you?”

“I’m at a law firm in Boca Raton, just borrowing someone’s office to call you. How are you, sweetie?”

“I’ve been better.”

“I know. I’m sorry about that.”

“Matt, what are you doing?”

“I’m calling to apologize.”

“What’s going on with you? What is it that you want? If you don’t want to be with me or can’t handle our relationship right now, then let’s just call it quits and go back to being friends. I don’t want us to lose our friendship because of this.” I honestly didn’t know if I could handle just being friends, feeling the way I felt about him.

“No, I don’t either. I don’t want to lose you. I do want you, Mal. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you overanalyze everything to death, and I’m constantly scared I’m going to hurt your feelings. I have a lot going on at home right now–it’s so stressful that I can’t even sleep at night. Sometimes I just need you to have a little confidence in me and not question everything I do.”

“I haven’t done that purposely, you know that. It’s part of my job. I had total confidence in you until you gave me a reason not to. But I’m not going to sit back and be lied to, Matt. I think you need to figure out if I’m really what you want here.” I choked that last line out, terrified of his answer.

“I don’t want to give you up, I care about you a lot,” he said.

“Okay… so what’s the problem?” I whimpered.

He hesitated as if he was going to give me some kind of an explanation for his behavior, but reconsidered. “How about this,” he suggested. “Can we please just start completely over?”

“What? I… I don’t know. I guess so.” I was too emotionally depleted to even argue.

And that was that. The slate was wiped clean. I was so relieved, at least temporarily. This was so completely out of character for me, and I knew it. I didn’t ask who he was with on Saturday. I didn’t even ask him why, if he supposedly cared so much about me, he didn’t even bother to at least make sure I was okay all weekend. I normally don’t forgive and forget, well, ever. I’m not exactly sure how I gave up every shred of my self-respect to him so easily. Quite frankly, the effortless way I forgave him made the old Mallory want to slap the shit out of the new Mallory.

We never did get to do Facetime in Miami. He came back that Tuesday night, and it just didn’t seem right, given how awkward things had been between us. By midday Wednesday, I noticed that his texts were coming through in green instead of blue. “Oh Matt, you didn’t…”

“I’m sorry, honey. I had to,” he apologized. “I really loved the whole Facetime possibility, I did. But I could not stand the freaking thing otherwise. I need my real keyboard. My emails were all wonky on it; it just didn’t work for me. I went back to my old phone.”

“NOOOO!” To be fair, he had complained about how much he hated that phone since the minute he got it. He really couldn’t type on the keyboard, his texts were all very abrupt and if he ever did get three lines of text out, I would give him a virtual high five,
See! Now you’re finally getting it!
But he only had it for a 10-day trial, with the option to take it back if it didn’t work out. I would be lying if I said I didn’t take it a little personally. Millions of people use iPhones. I felt like he just wasn’t willing to give it a try, not even if it meant we could see each other all the time.

That, in conjunction with him canceling his trip to come up and see me for that next Monday, and well, I wasn’t feeling super convinced about this whole “starting over” business at all. I knew that had we not had our little disagreement, he would be happily wrapped nakedly around me that day. He said things were still very stressful at home and he was afraid Ivan was going to cause some sort of problem over the weekend. I knew Ivan had gotten into several arguments with Sandra lately and been very disrespectful to her, but it still seemed like another excuse to me. Maybe he was punishing me. It was possible he just didn’t want to have to fabricate another “business trip” after he had just gotten back from Florida. So, not wanting to get into it again, I tried to remain understanding about it. It didn’t stop me from trying my damndest to get him to change his mind though. I pulled out all of my clever tricks.

We had talked about this bottle of Ruffino Chianti Riserva I had sitting around in my pantry since 2007. I had planned on saving it for a special occasion, but just never got around to drinking it. I was worried it may have gone bad being in my pantry for so long. Our house was old and had no A/C downstairs, so the kitchen could get pretty warm in the summers. Matt thought it would probably be okay, and he knew a lot more about wine than I did. We had previously agreed he would test it out for me the next time I saw him. After all, he joked, he was “older and closer to death anyway.”

That night, just for fun, I wrote “EXPIRES JULY 16th” across the label in big black letters. Then, lying in my bed on my side, I propped the bottle up against my naked body–making it very clear what I wanted him to notice far more than the bottle–and I snapped a pic.

When I texted him the next morning, I said:
Hey, I found out an interesting fact the other night… did you know that wine expires?

Huh? What are you talking about? Like me, it gets better with age!

I know, but remember that bottle of Chianti we talked about? I found it last night and it says so right on the label! Look!
I attached the pic, hit send, and waited. After about a 30-second pause, he responded.

OMG. I’m going to need a whole case. LMAO!

Well, sir, the shipping and handling fees are quite expensive on a case…

Don’t care, I am all in!!!

Oh, I’m sorry sir; I am now being told that we are completely sold out. Better luck next year.

Get a new shipment. Rush Order!

For what delivery date, sir?

ASAP.

All kidding aside now, I wasn’t too proud to beg.
Are you sure the 16th isn’t going to work for you? I really want to see you… I need to see you.

I know babe, I want to, but I really can’t. But soon.

BTW, I also have new undies. Really cute ones. See also: bikini wax. Not that any of those things should sway you.

You are killing me here.

Good. It should. I’ve already got the time off, and you know how bad I want you. Now get back to work!

LOL! Okay, dear. I wish I could do Monday, but I will most definitely find another day soon, in the next couple of weeks.

To add insult to injury, we had a fantastic conversation that weekend, probably one of the better ones on record, and definitely one of the longest. It started off like any other, I told him I missed him, and again, how I much I wanted to see him. But I also told him I hoped I hadn’t been putting too much pressure on him lately, especially to have to come up with reasons to come up to Raleigh. Nate was talking about getting his own place soon, and once that happened, it should be easier for me to come down to see him too. And, as a bonus, I’d be able to hang out with Brooke at the same time.

I just wanted him to know that I appreciated him making the effort, but it wouldn’t have to always be this way, that it would get easier with time. I also tried to reiterate that I didn’t have any expectations of him as far as his marriage went. Obviously I wanted him to leave, but I knew his situation was more complicated than mine. Just because I pulled the trigger, didn’t mean I expected him to be ready at the same time. He said he really appreciated that, and the fact that I was so understanding was just another reason he was crazy about me. I hadn’t heard that from him in a while.

We discussed details about our families, from our own upbringing to the differences in personalities in our siblings and our children. I once again glossed over some of the more gory details of my past, but it was still one the most intimate conversations we had ever had. We probably talked for an hour, and I still remember how close I felt to him that day.

I started getting more pissy by the end of the weekend, however, as I was reminded that he was supposed to be here with me but wasn’t. I ended up telling my boss that I would come in that Monday. There was no sense in wasting a vacation day, sitting around and being miserable thinking about what we could have been doing.

We normally took turns sending the first text in the morning, but he seemed busier lately (this was confirmed by Brooke; she too was getting absolutely slammed). I didn’t take it too personally that my 8:30 a.m. texts were now being sent at 10 or 10:30, at least not at first. But since I was still upset that he hadn’t made the trip up that day, I felt like I just wanted to ignore him for a while. I didn’t want to be reminded of how incredibly disappointed I really was. I fired off a quick hello back to his
GM babe
text, but nothing else for most of the day.

At close to 4:00 p.m., I received:
Going into 4:00 meeting with Brooke and client. You okay!??

Well, it was nice that he noticed.

Yeah, just ran. Heading to shower. Jealous?

Very, very jealous

Wish you were here…

I could have been there!

Well whose stupid fault is that? I thought.
It’s very wet in here. *snicker*

I am sure. Sorry I missed it today!!!!!

Sure you are
, I thought.
Jackass.

****

Brooke and I were talking on the phone that night. She was on a real mission to get me out there dating again, so we were discussing the types of men I found attractive and the possibility of online dating. I told her that I had no real interest in that yet and that I would much prefer to meet someone through my friends before dating perfect strangers. I wasn’t quite that hard-up yet. She insisted that my standards must be way too high if I hadn’t found one single man that I could date by now, particularly with as skinny as I had gotten. She was a bit bigger than me, but at 5’10” with an hourglass shape, porcelain white skin, and almost jet black hair and eyes, I thought she was a knockout in her own right. Of course, I looked small compared to her; I was 5’3”! I told her that I was just busy with the kids, and I was sure someone would come along eventually but that I did have a very specific type of person in mind.