wing me.
Justin was cheating on me.
I considered walking over there. I considered confronting him and the girl and accusing them both of being homewreckers, loudly and publicly.
Unfortunately, they weren't. What, exactly, were they wrecking beyond the expensive dinners and great sex? Justin and I didn't have a home or life together to destroy. We didn't have deep conversations I'd miss and long for.
We ate fancy food and we had sex.
I wasn't even as sad as I should be to see him with another woman. I was hurt, and jealous, and it stung like hell, but I wasn't sad.
Even more than that, that's just not who I was. I felt like it should be, like I should march over there and show him what he was missing, make him regret being unfaithful to me, but the idea of causing a scene like that made me squirm with embarrassment.
I turned the cart around and put the groceries away, one by one, in the order I'd selected them. I worked quickly and looked down at my cart as much as possible.
When I saw a flash of Justin's jacket, I wheeled the cart and went in the opposite direction.
I put my cart away and I walked out of the store.
It wasn't until I'd gotten in my car, started the engine, and drove to the other end of the parking lot and stopped it in a shady, secluded spot that I burst into tears.
Justin called me the next day on my lunch break. I saw his number flash on my phone, and I wondered whether he had seen me and was calling to apologize.
Or, even better, maybe he hadn't seen me, but was calling to apologize anyways. Perhaps he just kissed her, and then woke up and realized what he had done, and wanted to make it right.
“With another pint of mint chocolate chip forgiveness?” I heard Sarah's voice in my head.
I knew that my imaginary version of Sarah had a point.
I answered, anyways.
“Hey, sugar,” he said. His voice was as cheerful as it had been every other time he called me.
How many times had he cheated on me, and called me, just this pleasant and friendly?
“Hello,” I said.
“Your voice is about as warm as ice in January,” he teased. “What's wrong?”
I couldn't even answer before he interruped me.
“Oh, before I forget – are you free Friday night? I have tickets to see Dirty Dancing, the musical is coming to town,” he said.
“No, I don't think I am,” I said. “I don't think that I want to go out with you again.”
I was proud of how calm my voice sounded.
“Why not?” he asked, sounding annoyed.
“Well, the woman I saw you kissing in the grocery store last night might have something to do with it,” I snapped.
I guess I couldn't remain calm about it forever.
He was silent for a moment.
“Not going to bother denying it? Say that I saw someone else? Say that you'd never cheat on me?” I asked.
My voice caught a little as I added “Say that you love me?”