The Other Other Woman (53 page)

“What?! But didn’t you say he’s always flirting with that other bartender chick over there?”

“Yeah, that little goofball definitely gives him the lingering eye. But I don’t know if he’s done anything with her.”

“Brooke…” Oh, this was bad. I already knew the answer to this question.

“Yeah?”

“When was the wine tasting, again?”

“October. Right after you guys went to Greensboro.”

“Oh God, I knew you were going to say that.”

“Why?”

“How much you wanna bet he met her and decided he needed a little time to get to know her to see if he liked her? I dunno, like maybe
30 DAYS
?”

“Oh my God. What a fucking pig.”

“He threw me away for someone he literally just met.”

“Oh Mal, I’m really not sure that Katya was the issue at all now. I don’t think he has any problem cheating on her either.”

“No, obviously not. He was all gung ho to sleep with me again at the conference and he was definitely with her then,” I agreed, pausing for a minute. “Do you really think he would have done that to me? Kept me on the backburner like that, knowing how it was killing me, just so he could entertain yet
another
woman?”

“I most definitely do.”

“Wow. I mean absolutely nothing to this man. Not one fucking thing. He’s been playing me for a fool the entire time. He sat there and let me tear up my entire family knowing he didn’t even care about me at all.”

“You know, boo, I really don’t think he cares about anyone but himself.”

“Yeah, apparently so. I guess this is just what he does for shits and giggles?”

“Girl, if I were you, I would get yourself checked out. Fast.”

“I was just thinking the same thing. Right after I figure out how I’m going to stop myself from telling his wife what an incredible liar he is. Was Katya invited to this party he’s having?”

“No, mysteriously she was NOT on the invite list.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want any members of his harem running into each other, now would we?”

As the days went on, my heartbreak took a turn. I found myself getting angrier and angrier. Crazy angry. It seemed like possible conquests came out of the woodwork each day. It might have been faster to take a survey of who
wasn’t
sleeping with this man. I had been so concerned with figuring out his relationship with Katya over the entire span of our relationship that I missed quite a few others. Ms. Lauchner, the “family” that Ivan stayed with? She was not so much a family but a very busty single woman. I was convinced now that I had been right about his real estate agent all along, and possibly her blonde sidekick too. I heard rumors of him texting the secretary of one of the advisors in another division, and he was offering his condo up to the girl who sold him his upgraded phone at AT&T. Sure, they could have all just been friends; he was such a friendly guy. But my gut had yet to be proven wrong.

I had been putting it off, but I finally broke down and made an appointment to go get myself checked out for STDs. When I explained that I needed an HIV test, they told me they would fit me in the very next day.

I honestly wasn’t that nervous. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but in my heart, I wanted to believe that he was careful with everyone else. I wanted to believe that I was special to him somehow, but it was probably just the fact that I had been married for so long that made him comfortable not using a condom with me. I just prayed that he had actually used it with everyone else he seemed to be sleeping with. At least until after me, because then it could rot off for all I cared.

I was really okay, just sitting up on the chair waiting. Then Dr. Paxton walked in and said, “So, what the hell happened?” As if someone flipped a switch, I started crying that cry where you are trying so hard not to that it comes out as a symphony of embarrassing snorts instead. She took one look at me, patted my leg, and said, “You know what? Don’t worry about it, we’ll just run everything.” How incredibly humiliating it was for me to have to go through this at 36. I’m sure she had seen it all, but not from me. I was more careful than this as a teenager. I guess I got dumber with age.

They got me fixed up and sent me on to the lab for blood work. A few days later everything, thankfully, came back negative. When I got the bills, they were nearly $250 in copays and deductibles. For a split second, I considered sending them to him. Brooke and I joked that I should send around an informative email to all of our co-workers:

“Dear Associates: It has come to my attention that sleeping with Matt Wynne will require you to obtain a post-coital critter check. This may result in up to $250 in co-pays and lab fees. Let me save you the trouble and expense and inform you that he gave you a little bit of everything.”

I started telling my other friends what had been going on in my life. Most were pretty understanding. I’m sure that deep down they might have been thinking I got what I deserved for messing around with a married man. That was fair. But I never intended to fall for anyone’s husband. In 17 years with my ex, I never so much as looked at another man that way. It is an easy situation to judge until you find yourself in it. Either way, we all agreed he was a disgrace. I didn’t care if people knew about it anymore. On some level, I hoped that maybe it would spread around a little bit, maybe fall upon the right ears. More times than I could count, I heard “Wow, you could write a book about that one!” or “Sounds like a lifetime movie!” You know, it really did… that or a Taylor Swift song.

Brooke’s job search had picked up, but while she had a lot of interviews and possible opportunities in the works, she had no actual offers on the table yet. I knew there was nothing I could do to him as long as she was still working with him. My mom was terrified that I was going to “stoop to his level” and do something stupid and end up losing my own job as well. She explained that she when she told Kenny’s wife all about him, she regretted it right away. Not only did his wife stay with him, but everyone in the town then hated my mom for telling a pregnant woman what her no-good cheating husband was up to. She didn’t want me to have those regrets. It wasn’t his wife’s fault. It wasn’t even Katya’s fault. She was in the same exact position as me, just for longer, and she was actually dependent on him for money too. But I was about to explode at the seams. It became a daily struggle for me not to pick up the phone and call his wife. I couldn’t sleep, I wasn’t eating, I had no patience with my kids, I just stewed over it 24/7. How could I have been so stupid? How could I have fallen for someone with such a profound lack of respect for women? But worst of all, how could he have faked his feelings for me like that? It felt so real to me, so genuine, every second that I was with him.

I decided that I needed to see a therapist for help with my anger. I needed someone to convince me that seeking revenge on him would only end up hurting me, and that he would likely smooth talk his way out of trouble anyway, just as he always did. I needed it to be a woman, someone who could understand what it was like to be dumped and deceived by a man. I didn’t want anyone who was religious or old. They just wouldn’t be able to relate to some little wannabe husband-stealing hussy like myself. The last thing I needed was anyone judging me. I found a Licensed Clinical Social Worker whose online profile really spoke to me. She appeared to be about my age too. Stephanie sounded perfect. She dealt specifically with bad relationship issues. She was non-judgmental; it even said so in her description. She looked like someone I could be friends with. I quickly called to make an appointment and left a message, but I heard nothing for days.

Eventually, her office called back, but the earliest I could get in to see her was in a month.
A MONTH?!
I was seriously going to hurt somebody by then. She offered up a different therapist, but I politely declined. I only wanted Stephanie. I just had a good feeling about her. So, I made my appointment for a month out and asked them to call me if there were any cancellations.

In the meantime, I continued to stew and come up with a number of clever ways I could hurt him. I wanted him to suffer, even if it was only a fraction of how badly he had hurt me. Maybe it would be the last time he would try to coerce some vulnerable woman into bed, telling her how much she meant to him, how he had never met anyone like her, how for the first time in 25 years he felt alive again. Fuck him.

I really started to go off the deep end. I would send Jules texts of all the different diabolical ways I could come up with to clue his wife in on his dirty shenanigans. Like my thoughts, even my typing became crazy and sporadic.

“Hey, wouldn’t it be fun to print the profile pics of all his different girlfriends off of Facebook, because they are all on there, make copies, and then just start sending them to all of his addresses? No note, just the picture of a girl’s photo, like a different one every day. Just one folded up piece of paper. I could even have people on the board do it for me so they would come from all different states! His wife would be like, “Why am I getting this picture of a strange woman? Why am I getting another one? And another one the next day!’ Can you imagine how freaked out he would be to go home and beat her to the mail each day? Bet that would mess up his nooner plans!”

“Um, Mal, when did you say your therapy appointment is again?”

“Oooh, I know, wouldn’t it be a hoot for my best friend to send a little note to Katya talking about how much he has hurt me and told me all the same lies he’s told her? Only, we’d do it when he’s on his trip to Ukraine. He would be away with “spotty” communication and it would be nearly impossible for him to talk it over! We know she has a temper, so I have no doubt she would hit the roof and possibly tell his wife for us too! I would only look like the asshole who cried to my best friend, but I can’t control what you do! He would have eight glorious days of being stuck over there shitting his pants not knowing what he would be coming home to!”

“Okay, I gotta admit, that’s pretty damn good… But what if she goes with him?”

“Aww nuts.”

“Back to the drawing board, ya hussy.”

“You know I have that naked picture of him that he doesn’t know I took? Maybe we could just start texting it to him from all different area codes. Can you imagine his stupid dimpled face when he gets a picture of his very own ass from ten different cell phone numbers in the middle of some big board meeting?!”

“You know… we may actually have to do that one! That’s pure comedy gold right there!” she laughed. “I don’t like to see you so unhappy, but I sure pity the fool who messes with you!”

I knew that, rationally, I would never actually execute any of these plans. Okay, maybe not the first two anyway. But it gave me great pleasure to know that I could. At any moment, I could take him down with a few mouse clicks. It made me feel powerful in a small way because otherwise I felt completely destroyed. When he finally did take off for Ukraine, I couldn’t keep my mouth shut any longer. But I took the high road and went directly to the source of my troubles… him. I texted him a photo of the conversation that Katya had with her friend about moving to Florida.

Wow, Congratulations! I’m sure she will love South Beach.

I wasn’t sure if he would get it or not on the other side of the ocean, but I had to let him know he hadn’t fooled me. His response came the next day.

I am being stalked.

Now, I had to admit he got me there. You look up stalker in the dictionary and I’d be there smiling and waving at you, no doubt about it. But I got the feeling he wasn’t talking about me. This made me very curious indeed.

What? By whom?

Too long by text. Talk later when I return from Ukraine.

Holy crap. I think he was talking about her. Of course, I sent it to Jules for her thoughts.

“WHAT!? Mallory, that’s the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard. She’s stalking him?! Did she stalk him right into his car and force him to drive to her house that day you caught him?! He’s a moron. You can’t stalk someone into your vagina! You aren’t actually falling for this are you?” she exclaimed.

“No, of course not. But I am dying to know what kind of crazy drama-filled story he comes up with over the next few days. It ought to be a doozie! I do wonder if she’s blackmailed him into taking care of her now or if she’s threatening to tell his wife.”

“Oh that’s rich. If so, he deserves it. Wonderbread-eating Doucheface.”

He never bothered to call me when he got back from his trip. Perhaps he decided I just wasn’t worth bothering with anymore, that he didn’t owe me any further explanations. I wholeheartedly disagreed, and I told him as much after he had been back in the States for a good week or so.

I have to tell you I still have a lot of unresolved anger over this. I know you are not my business anymore. I just hope that next time (and there will always be a next time) you get someone to fall for you under false pretenses; you might consider for a moment that there is an actual person attached to that body.

He responded quickly. Too quickly.

Well, you should try to resolve that anger since we will be working together. And there was NOTHING false about my interest in you at the conference and beyond.

Surely, he did not just tell me I needed to resolve my anger. I could do that very easily by sending his wife a picture of his very naked ass. Or picking up a phone and dialing her home number.

He must have instantly realized his error in judgment because he followed it up with a meaningless apology.

I am sorry for how this worked out. I apologize.

Not sorry enough. I still need answers. Why would you purposely seek out a relationship with me, when, forgetting for a moment that you have a wife, but that you also have a long-term girlfriend as well? Did she know about me? Was she cool with this?

I was not with her when I met you. You probably know that she can be extremely temperamental and I was, and do get, tired of hormones taking over emotions.