A Life More Complete (42 page)

Sometime later I hear the front door
close and I hear Tyler’s voice. Just the sound of it churns my stomach.

“Hey Bob,” Tyler says with a bit too
much force. The legs of a kitchen chair scrape across the floor.

“What happened tonight?” I hear Bob
ask, his tone accusing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking
about,” Tyler responds and any trace of levity is gone.

“Cut the bullshit, Tyler. You know
exactly what I’m talking about.”

Bob loves me, but he is beginning to
tire of my continuous drama with Tyler. The confrontation has been a long time
coming, but it still doesn’t make it any easier to hear. Even from a room away
I wince at the tone in their voices.

“Listen, Sonfeld, I don’t know where
you get off coming into my home and accusing me of things I know nothing about.
But I’m guessing this has something to do with Krissy.” I inch my way closer
but still staying out of view.

“You’re damn right,” Bob practically
shouts. “All I know is I got a call from her asking me to pick her up in
Malibu. She’s been a wreck ever since.”

“How the fuck should I know what’s
wrong with her? I got a text saying she was at the party, but I never hooked up
with her.”

“And it never occurred to you to look
for her? You just thought it was cool when she didn’t find you at the party? What
the fuck is wrong with you?”

“She’s always looking for attention. That
should be obvious to you. She’s all about the drama. Always crying about
something. It’s growing old.” Bob interrupts Tyler before he can go on.
  

“You’re wrong. She’s not like that. You’ve
made her this way. She’s insecure and vulnerable. You’ve broken her down and
made her into someone she’s not. You don’t see it because this is your game. You
fuck with her for fun. Mark my words you’re gonna break her and when you do you’re
going to have to deal with me.”

“Is that a threat, Sonfeld?”

“No, bro. It’s a promise.”

“Bring it on asshole. I’m not afraid
of you.” By now I’m standing behind Bob and I clench my eyes shut and cringe at
his words. Tyler’s boldness and total disregard still never ceases to shock me.

Addressing me without turning around
Bob says, “Sweetheart, you know I love you, but that should be enough right
there.” He pushes past Tyler and leaves through the front door without saying
another word.

We are standing there staring at each
other. The tension in the room so high that I feel like I might burst. I’m
filled with apprehension and his posture is already defensive. I can’t bring
myself to confront him.

“I don’t appreciate being berated in
my own home by your asshole friend. That was totally uncalled for and
completely brought on by your idiotic behavior.” I’m staring at him, completely
shocked. I guess I was hoping for a confession, but I should know better. He’d
never admit to doing anything wrong especially if it involves an admission to
hurting me. “What do you want me to say?” he snaps when I don’t respond.

My voice comes out loud, near a
shout, “I want you tell me that you love me! I want you to tell me that you
couldn’t be happier and that becoming a father is going to be amazing! That’s
what I want you to say! I’ve wanted you to say it for months, but you won’t!”

“You want me to lie?” he screams
back. “I don’t want any of this. I don’t want to be a father, but you keep
pushing me. I never wanted this.”

My voice grows quiet and I ask, “Would
you be here right now if I hadn’t gotten pregnant?”

He stares at me and his lack of
response is the only answer I need. He pulls his hand through his hair and
storms out of the house leaving me stunned and silent.

I awake on Monday
morning feeling like I never slept. I try to ignore how dead I feel inside as I
climb onto the treadmill. An hour later I step off without recalling my legs
ever moving. I continue to move through the rest of my morning routine with the
same trepidation and slow, somber movements. My memory nearly wiped clean with
the exception of the dull ache that numbs my entire body. The only memory left
is so bold and defined like I am living it over and over every time my eyes
close. I can picture Tyler’s hands all over her body and all the insecurities
within me boil over. I’m not enough. I’ll never be and I can’t help but think
that maybe I’ve reached my breaking point. Maizey said I would know; yet
nothing about this seems final. The finality that I thought would light up the
sky like the Fourth of July isn’t there.

I show up at work on
time but looking disheveled and the exhaustion is written all over my face. The
dark circles unable to be covered no matter how much concealer I cake on my
face and my swollen, bloodshot eyes give me away. I can chalk it up to
pregnancy while at work, but the truth will come out eventually. I can’t hide
from it forever.

My phone buzzes and the
secretly deluded part of me hopes it is Tyler.

Bob: Call me when you get a chance. Just wanted to see how
you’re doing. XOXO

I’d spent the better
part of Sunday crying on Bob’s shoulder and eating cookie dough even though he
reminded me countless times of the risk of Salmonella. Depression and precarious
situations usually caused my appetite to run screaming for the hills, luckily
for the baby and me it remained intact this time. Bob went on too many craving
runs to count. Tacos from the little joint on the beach, along with guacamole
and chips, later turning to strawberry spinach salad with balsamic vinegar and
eventually ending the night with apples and peanut butter.

“Why can’t you be my
husband?” I whined. “You’re perfect.”

“No I’m not. You just
think I am because you love me. It’s hard to see people’s flaws when you love
them. Take Tyler for instance, right?”

“Don’t say his name. I
just threw up in my mouth,” I said deflecting my hurt with humor.

“What are you going to
do? Do you think he’s actually cheating?”

“I don’t know. I don’t
know,” repeating myself in hopes it will hit me out of the blue. “I haven’t
even talked to him since he shit all over our future. Great bombshell to drop
when this kid is gonna be here in a few weeks.”

“I know this really
sucks and it doesn’t matter what I say, but don’t you think it’s over?”

“Yeah, probably.”

“Probably isn’t
certain.”

I walk into the office
and past Maggie without even so much as a greeting. If I’m trying to keep my
personal problems separate from my professional life I’m doing a piss poor job.
I stall out a few feet after the reception desk and say, “ Good morning,
Maggie.”

“Good morning, Kristin.
You okay?” she asks with genuine concern.

“Yeah, Maggie. Just
tired.” It wasn’t a lie. I am tired, just not the way I mean it to be
perceived.

Just seconds after
finding refuge in my office Melinda comes in. I roll my eyes, not because I don’t
want to see her but because I can’t rehash it one more time.

“You talk to Tyler yet?”
she asks and I can feel the stomach acid rise up in my throat.

“No,” I reply, grabbing
a granola bar from my desk drawer. Hoping food will keep the urge to vomit at
bay.

“Do you think he’s
cheating?”

“I don’t know. Bob
asked me the same thing. That depends on your definition of cheating, I guess. Were
his hands all over her body? Yes. Did he kiss her? Yes. Do I think he’s
sleeping with someone else, I don’t know? But it sure looked like it.”

“Did you get a good
look at her?”

The back of her
perfectly coiffed trendy haircut is burned into my mind. “I didn’t see her
face. Just the back of her. Her and her perfectly tiny ass. It’s no wonder he
cheated, mine’s the size of a fucking Buick,” I rant, sounding like I’m feeling
sorry for myself.

“Bullshit. You look
amazing and I’m not just saying that. If Tyler wasn’t such a dick he’d recognize
that, too. Maybe it’s better not knowing. I’m not sure I could keep myself sane
if I knew.”

“Agreed. Wanna get
lunch today? Why not pack on a few more pounds?”

“Sure. But this the
last compliment I’m giving you, you look great. From behind you’d never know
you’re pregnant. Now suck it up, fatty,” she says with a smile on her face.

“Thanks, Mel.”

Immediately following Melinda’s
departure Ellie pops in and asks to speak to me. What is with these work folks
and their incessant badgering? Don’t they know I need to update my Facebook
status and creep on other people’s pages followed by a lengthy internal debate
about whether I want tacos or Chinese food for lunch? It’s mind-numbingly
perfect. But of course my distraction techniques will only get me so far in forgetting
the gripping depression that seeps in whenever I stop thinking of anything
else.

Ellie’s face is stone
serious when she asks me to meet her in her office. Great. I’m sure I effed
something up, but what else is new. I quickly rifle through my brain to figure exactly
what I did. Any half-assed work lately? Nope. Any unanswered emails? Not that I
can recall. Any recent public humiliation? Besides my own, none. I give up. I
tag along behind her following her into her spacious and perfectly organized office.
Ellie shuffles through a stack of paperwork on her desk before she pulls out a manila
envelope from the bottom of the pile.

“This came to me this
morning,” she says. Hardly listening, all I can think is,
Geez. That’s a lot of crap on your desk.
Something that came this
morning was already buried under mounds of papers. Her job really does suck.

“What is it?” I ask
annoyed with her guessing game tactic. She holds the envelope out and I take it
from her hand. The seal has been broken and the front is addressed to Ellie
Regan P.R c/o Ellie Regan. I pull from the envelope a stack of papers and
before I can even look my heart skips a beat and my palms grow sweaty. The only
thought that pops into my head is divorce papers. Tyler is leaving me and
because he is such an asshole he had me served at work. When I flip the papers
over and take them in I should think myself lucky if they were divorce papers.
They’re far worse. Divorce would look like kittens prancing through a meadow.
This looks like kittens being taken down by volcanic lava.

I can’t speak. Everything
in my body goes numb as I fall into the chair in front of Ellie’s desk. I flip
through the large, grainy pictures, but I know exactly who the people are. I
don’t need to focus on them or squint. The blonde from the party. His arms
around her. Her head resting against his chest. Leaving a hotel room. His lips
on hers. I begin to feel dizzy, the room spins and I steady myself with the
arms of the chair. I feel physically ill. I can’t even conjure up the tears
that should be looming.

“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 fucked 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.