*Samantha*
"What do you mean you're married?" I asked, or more like demanded, from my boyfriend of two years after discovering the second phone he had tried to hide under my pillow and his not-so-little secret.
I looked between him and the unlocked phone in my hand, showing off his wedding photo with a stunning brunette as they smiled at the camera. I felt like my whole life was being taken away from me, and my heart shattered at the revelation.
Timothy threw his head back in frustration, pinched the bridge of his nose, and mumbled incoherent words under his breath. I watched him with mixed emotions swirling in my body: disbelief, shock, anger, and, most of all, heartbreak. I loved that bastard to no end, yet he turned out to be a scumbag.
"Sammy, let's not get into the fight now over something unimportant. We have a banquet to attend in less than an hour. You do remember it's the most important for me." He casually and dispassionately reminded me of the twenty thousand dollars I wasted on that stupid invitation to support his business.
I threw the phone at him, but it landed on the bed. I never had a good aim, and now, feeling like the raging bull before storming at him, my vision was blurred. I could no longer look at the damn handsome bastard. Let alone set foot outside my apartment with him.
"Are you kidding me right now? I'm not going anywhere. Not with you, you son of a b***h!" I yelled, venting my frustration as I grabbed my packed clutch and threw it at him. He dodged the aim. Being the best-paid personal trainer at one of my parent's friend's gyms makes him one of the best in everything, including avoiding the punches. That is why I fell in love with him; his flexibility, agility, and s*x appeal made my knees weak when he noticed me days after I signed my membership. He made me feel a range of emotions since the first day I met him, but only now was I introduced to the extreme anger, frustration, and demolition need.
I got beyond pissed at his laid-back attitude right now, especially since we're not talking about his second or third-option cheek. No. This f*****g bastard had a wife. And I just found out that it's been over five years since he should hold his d**k in his pants. I felt dirty. I felt used. Oh, my God, what the hell I made myself to be? I'm a homewrecker! I screamed internally as I watched every second of my life with Timothy run over as a fast-forward slide show.
A wave of nausea hit me like a tidal ripple, and I rushed past him and locked myself in the bathroom, puking over the toilet. I heard him banging on the door, worried about me, but when I didn't respond for a minute, he showed his true colors again, making my heart shatter twice.
"I'll take the cab. See you at the banquet, Sweetheart. Let's reschedule that little disagreement for another day. It is not worth our happiness." He announced before I heard him walk out of my bedroom.
He acted so calm as if the last twenty minutes of my finding out his disloyalty, infidelity, and worse, being so cool about it wasn't straight-to-the-point breaking up from my side move.
I am not going to make it easy for him. He left happy in his delusional little bubble that we'll fix the issue, but he had another thing coming. I stayed on the floor until I felt my stomach was no longer content to return its contents. I sat on the cold tiles of my bathroom floor and let the tornado of emotions have its havoc on me.
I cried—no—correction. I ugly cried, screamed, and let every negative emotion emanate from me in waves. I wrapped my arms around myself and started rocking to calm myself down. It didn't work, so I looked at the shower cabin and decided to wash the dirty guilt away.
I saw the mascara of my expensive, supposedly waterproof brand covering the white marble floors as I crawled into the shower to wash myself from Timothy's recent love-making remnants. I felt dirty, like a million bacteria staining my innocence. Because I was one. I was innocent before I met him, stupidly thinking he was my future.
I got up, turned on the water, and heated it. I unbuttoned my dress, almost ripped it off me, remembering how much I turned him on in that semi-transparent dress and went to the sink. I wiped the steamy mirror and got scared. I watched my once-happy face change into a lonely woman's sad and ugly expression. My green eyes that once shone with life, love, and happiness faded. My rosy complexion turned gray, and the spilled makeup gave me the terrifying look of the Joker.
"And what the hell am I supposed to tell them?" I asked as I watched my reflection look at me with the saddest look on earth. My plans were simple and didn't make me feel stressed, forced, or downright allergic for the last few years. I was supposed to introduce my long-time boyfriend s***h possible future fiancé to my stuck-up ass and high-maintenance parents to make them finally proud of me.
What should I do now, since my first-class tickets were booked for four days? I was supposed to surprise him with a trip to Kalispell, my parents' house, to spend Christmas and New Year's with them. I was supposed to tell him when he secured the first major contract for his slowly growing company at tonight's banquet. My support was the key to everything Timothy wanted. And now, unfortunately, a little too late, I realized that he never expected my support, only my resources. I was supposed to fund all his whims, foolishly believing we shared true love.
I grabbed the sink and clenched my jaw, baring my small white teeth, before I screamed again, realizing I had been fooled since day one. A naive woman yearning for love and affection she had never known did not see how deceitful her relationship was.
"Why does it always have to be me?" I asked resignedly as the bathroom filled with warm steam. I slumped my shoulders, and before stepping into the shower, I decided to do one thing—one small step towards punishing Timothy. Yes, it was time to be mean. I took a deep breath and walked out of the bathroom and to the bed, where my clutch was still lying. I pulled out my phone and made one call to start a chain of events.
"Good evening, Miss Samantha. How can I help you?" After a few rings, the only man who had never let me down, my bodyguard who had settled with me in New York when I suddenly had to change schools, answered.
"Jeremy, I would like you to report all transactions that have come out of my account in the name of Timothy Conley. He is a fraudster, and I have fallen victim to him. He is going to a banquet for Nova Health at the Gold St. Venue." I gave him all the information he needed, and in response, I heard that familiar, "With great pleasure, Miss Samantha." before he hung up to put his powers into action.
I knew I didn't have much time before Timothy started calling me or knocking on my apartment door, demanding an explanation. I didn't feel like seeing him, let alone explaining my actions to him. I had decided that my four-day flight would be rescheduled, and I would leave New York today. I made two more calls, one to the airline to ask them to rebook me on the next available flight and one to the locksmith in my building to ask him to change the locks on my door immediately.
When all was set, I hopped into the shower, washed myself thoroughly, and packed my bag. In less than three hours, I held my new flight ticket with a pounding heart, ready to board the plane. What are the chances of me encountering him? I thought as I recalled the image of the boy I had a crush on all through high school with his incredibly dark eyes and charmingly protruding ears. I sighed and wished to meet him, even for a moment.