A Life More Complete(118)
“He’s cheating on you,” Ellie says. I’d like to say I’m shocked, but how can I be? The proof is right in front of me. I saw it Saturday night and now this just solidifies it. I’m caught off guard by hearing the words spoken out loud.
“Who else knows about this?” I ask going immediately into damage control mode.
“Right now just me and the photographer,” she says. “But it’s about to go public.” She looks down at her desk and back up at me. I can tell there’s more that she has yet to share.
“What is it, Ellie,” I demand. “There’s more. I know there is.” I look down at the last picture after her eyes indicate that I’ve missed something. There it is as plain as day and when I see it the pain hits me hard. I lunge for Ellie’s garbage can and vomit violently. “I’m sorry,” I say wiping my mouth with a tissue. “I’m mortified. I can’t believe this is happening.”
“You’re mortified?” she asks, her voice filled with disbelief. “He’s the one who should be mortified. How dare he!” she whisper-shouts to avoid drawing attention. “I hope you kick him out. You need to kick him out,” she says this time with more force. “No self-respecting woman puts up with cheating.”
“I...I...I don’t know what to do, Ellie.” It wasn’t that I didn’t want him gone. I just can’t even wrap my head around what is happening and the public humiliation that looms ever closer. I look down at the picture once more and my pain recedes only to be replaced by a blind fury.
“Kristin?” Ellie asks as she can obviously see my demeanor change so suddenly.
“She f*cked with the wrong person Ellie. I’ve put up with enough shit. It ends now.” I storm out of Ellie’s office with her hot on my heels.
“Kristin, please don’t do anything rash. I know you’re angry, but he’s just as much at fault as she is.”
I stop suddenly and Ellie nearly slams into me. “She’s going to pay for this. I can’t believe I was this blind. She called me her friend.” By now the entire office is half-staring, half-fake working as Ellie and I go all domestic just shy of the reception desk.
“Seriously, remember you are an employee of this company...” I interrupt Ellie before she can continue with her sermon on the ethics of professional conduct.
“Oh, f*ck off, Ellie!” I scream as I step into the elevator.
“He’s a piece of shit, too,” she yells with a small smile on her face. “You deserve better!” is the last thing I hear come out of her mouth as the elevator doors close.
---Chapter 39---
With my anger seriously out of control, I set my plan in motion. I’m sure either Melinda or Ellie would’ve tried to talk me down, so I’m glad I hauled out of there. Right now I’m riding high on adrenaline, fueled by an intense desire to punch someone in the face. My phone is vibrating on the seat next to me only adding to my irrationality. I pick it up and the extensive amount of missed calls is ridiculous. I guess this shit has gone public. Train wrecks like this don’t happen every day. And this one is going to be big.
I’ve never hit anyone in my life, but the urge that courses through me is so over powering that it takes control. My fist connects with her face before my logical reasoning has a chance to catch up. It looks so effortless in movies. Bam! The person goes down. What is left out of a movie scene is the grotesque sound of cracking bones and the blinding pain that radiates to my elbow. Fortunately for me the deep guttural scream that comes from Trini’s mouth masks the cry that leaves mine. I take her down. She crumbles to the floor covering her cheek with her hand.
“Don’t speak. I don’t want your excuses or your reasons. None of them will ever validate what you have done to me. We’re done. I quit. We’ll just call it a conflict of interest.” I head toward the door dropping my key to her house on the hard marble floor. “And don’t even think about pressing charges against me for assault. I. Will. Lay. Your. Shit. Bare. Don’t underestimate me.”
For some reason, she finds it wise to follow me to my car. Her eye already swelling and blood trickling from a cut left by the imprint of a turquoise ring I’m wearing. I don’t feel sorry for her. I never will again in my life. Betrayal hurts worse than anything.
“Krissy, please,” she begs. “I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” Her words spur to life even more anger than I ever thought possible. She’s not sorry. There’s not a chance in hell she has given a second thought to the ramifications of her actions. It’s my job to publicly apologize for her momentary lapse in judgment, but not this time. She’s on her own.