A Life More Complete(68)
By the time I return to the hotel, cutting though the lobby and up to the elevator, several hours have passed. I’m sweaty and sandy and desperately in need of a shower. When I enter the room Tyler is on the balcony drinking a cup of coffee, which makes me cringe. The thought of drinking coffee in general makes me cringe, but the thought of drinking it mid-day and when the temperature is above seventy degrees makes me sweat even more than I am already.
I greet him with a quick kiss as he pulls me into his lap. He wraps his arms around me and places a few light kisses along the back of my neck before releasing me. It makes me hope we’re going to be okay.
Things are going better than this morning, but just like always, Tyler can turn on a dime. We hit up the hotel restaurant and I bring up a text that I got from Bob regarding his house warming party.
“You want to go?” he asks with annoyance, while cutting his steak.
“Yes. And I’d really like it if you came with me. Bob’s a good friend and I want you to meet him.” I know Melinda will be there and for me not to show up would really be a total lack of respect for our friendship. “Please. I shouldn’t have to beg you to do something with me.” I pout just slightly for effect.
“Fine. But just so you know the traffic is going to be horrendous on a Friday night.” He sighs and mumbles something under his breath that I want to call him out on but don’t.
“Thank you,” I say smiling sweetly.
Our dinner goes along in a strange uncomfortable silence. It’s almost like we have nothing to say to each other. It’s hard to find topics of conversation with someone who has known you for almost thirteen years. You can only relive the past for so long before that gets boring and it looks like we have reached that point. I try to make conversation by asking how the office set up went and what his schedule looks like for the next few weeks. Tyler’s answers are short and clipped. I turn the table and begin to tell him about my upcoming week. I know I have a few meetings scheduled but overall I won’t be too busy and as of right now I’ll be in town for an entire week. I smile at him hoping he understands my excitement is geared toward him. He obviously misses the point because what he says next shuts me up immediately.
“Do you always have to fill the silence? Can’t we just have a quiet dinner?” He sighs deeply and clangs his knife and fork loudly off the plate as he sets them down. His eyes never meet mine and in the next minute he signals our waiter. He pays the check without even looking at it.
He conveniently misses the disgusted look on my face and my huffy breath as we exit the restaurant. Because he walks to the car at least four steps ahead of me and starts it before I can even open the passenger side door. He’s beginning to piss me off and I know I can’t live in a perpetual state of anger for the rest of my life. The worst part about this is that I’m so close to admitting that Rachel just might be right and that’s the last thing I want to do.
The next morning we wake early and check out of the hotel that has already been paid for by Rachel, which gives me a reason to cover the cost of her plane ticket to Atlanta. The car ride back home is quiet and I allow it because I don’t have to fill the silence and to be honest I am knee deep in emails.
Tyler leaves town late Tuesday night to finish up a trial he has back in Chicago leaving me alone and lonely. This is something I’m not entirely familiar with, as I have lived alone most of my adult life, but no matter what I do I find I’ve become dependent on him. I need someone else with me, sleeping in my bed, watching TV next to me, eating dinner with me and it sucks. When Tyler doesn’t call on Wednesday night I’m crushed. I climb in bed with the feeling of tears welling in my eyes and that tell tale lump in my throat. I fight it back, but I eventually give way to all the insecurities that haunt me from the past. He’s cheating on me.
That’s the first thought that fills my mind and it weighs on me like a ton of bricks. When his phone goes straight to voicemail my thoughts spin wildly out of control. I picture him in bed with another woman. Someone prettier than me, someone who doesn’t have to fill the silence, someone who doesn’t like to run, who works out at the gym and has a perfect tan and skinny calves and is pretty much everything that I’m not. I call him two more times because I convince myself that two more times is only mildly obsessive and when I add in that third phone call I chalk it up to being a good girlfriend and by the fourth phone call you can just call me a stalker. I’m not sure what you would even consider the fifth, sixth or seventh phone calls, probably straight up crazy.