Loves Me Not

THIRTY SEVEN

BEFORE
CATALAINA KITTRIDGE

I never wanted to be that woman who has an affair while she's engaged. I didn't intend on going through my everyday life harboring this ginormous secret that could ruin everything in an instant. But what can I say – I didn't plan for a lot of the things in my life that ended up happening anyways. This was only the first of many.

I guess my prior patterns with relationships and infidelity could have foreseen this. After all, I cheated on Colin with Will. Then Will cheated on Juliette with me. And then we both betrayed Juliette and Ben the night before the wedding. So it's not like I was a saint.

But those times were different. That was me trying to be with the person I wanted all along in the only way I could. This affair was something else entirely. It was me hitting rock bottom and reaching out to someone new for comfort. I'm not justifying my actions or trying to condone my behaviour by any means. I will be the first to admit that I was in the wrong. However, I felt as though I had nowhere else to turn. My actions were a reflection of my life and my mind. Acting out and having an affair was a terrible, terrible thing to do.

It all began in January. The New Year had just arrived and I found myself sitting at my desk, pen in hand, unable to contrive any resolutions. Usually I was so good at it. I'd make lists – tons of lists – of things I could work on or improve about myself. Goal-setting was very important to me and truly helped keep my life in order. However, when January arrived, I felt stuck. Trapped. Like I was at a standstill. When I tried to envision my future, I simply couldn't.

The past year had been a roller coaster. From Christmas to April: becoming closer and closer with Will and Juliette. And then there was the night before the wedding which changed everything. After that, the summer with Ben, him proposing, the following months being blissful and incredible. But somewhere along the way, I got lost, and I can't seem to pinpoint exactly where that was. Did it happen in April, after the wedding? Or in August, once I got engaged? Or perhaps it was a slow, progressive thing, happening over a long period of time. Either way, I was feeling more lost as the days went on and I couldn't seem to find my way back. By the time January hit, I felt distant and isolated from not only myself, but from everyone else around me.

I ended up shoving the notebook back in my desk, page blank. I told myself I'd go back and finish it when I was ready. Spoiler alert: I never did.

Ben and I had been fighting a lot since we moved in together in December. We both packed up our own individual lives and converged into one. We chose the house together, a mutual decision. There were some that I liked, and some that Ben liked, but the one we ended up choosing was the one. It was a house that we could see a future in. A house that had potential. A house where we could raise a family and live in for a long time. So we bought it.

It was after that first week that the fighting began. Everything was unpacked and we were just beginning to settle in when it all took a turn. I guess we should have tested out living together before actually doing it. Perhaps a trial run would have been a good idea, to know what the other person was like to cohabitate with. But instead, we jumped in head first and thought we'd be fine.

Ben and I had fought before, over stupid things, and sometimes not-so-stupid things. But living with him was different. It was like we couldn't escape each other, and simply being around each other was enough to drive the other person mad. He'd leave his dishes in the sink and I would get angry. And then he'd get angry that I was being so controlling. He hated when I told him what to do. But I hated when he didn't listen. I just wanted everything to be perfect so we could live blissfully and at ease. But deep down, I knew that wasn't going to happen.

It was the end of January when everything changed, once again. This was yet another catalyst moment for things to come.

Ben was out of town one weekend for work. This was a rare occasion as he never usually went away. I wasn't used to being by myself, alone in the large empty house. It felt kind of nice, being away from Ben. We had spent so much time together since moving into the house, and this would be our first weekend apart. I was excited.

Ben left Friday morning and said he'd be back on Monday. I went to work for the day, then came home in the evening and sat there in the kitchen, unsure of what to do with myself.

I made dinner. I poured myself a glass of wine. That glass turned into the bottle. And then another. Before I knew it, I was drunk. Drunk with nowhere to go, no one to see. That could be easily changed, I thought. So I put on my best dress, did my hair and makeup, and called a cab.

I ended up going to a bar, by myself. I hadn't done that since the summer Will and Juliette got engaged. The summer that I also happened to meet Ben.

I didn't know what my intentions were when I left the house that night. I wasn't even thinking about it. To be honest, there wasn't really much on my mind at all. That's why I enjoyed drinking on the odd occasion. Because when I was sober, my mind would not rest. It was go go go, twenty-four-seven. Constant thoughts circulating my brain, overthinking and overanalyzing every situation. It was a switch I could never turn off. But once there was enough alcohol in my bloodstream and I was intoxicated, it all shut off. I didn't need to think about anything. I could simply breathe and exist. So when I left my house that night, I didn't plan on doing anything. Whatever happened simply happened.

I was sitting alone at the bar, drinking from my glass, when she approached me. Her red hair fell in luscious waves over her shoulders. I glanced up and saw her face. Fair skin, bright blue eyes. She didn't wait before speaking.
"You here by yourself?" she asked, glancing around then focusing her attention back on me.
"Uh," I hesitated. Was she hitting on me? "Yes?"
She pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. "Not anymore."
"I'm engaged," I said, subtly holding out my ring finger. "And straight."
She laughed. A loud, raspy laugh that was both mesmerizing and enticing. "So am I, honey."
I visibly relaxed at the sudden reassurance that she was not coming onto me. "Do I know you?" I asked her. I felt the slight slur of my words, the alcohol on my tongue.
"No," she said. "No, you don't know me at all. But I think you'd like to."
"Why's that?"
She looked at me again, taking in my appearance and evident confusion at her presence. "Because," she said. "You're here by yourself, I'm here by myself. We're both attractive females who shouldn't be sitting at bars alone. So what do you say – friends?"
"You want to be friends?"
"Sure, why not?"
Then it was my turn to laugh. "You are very forward."
"I learned that you can't really live your life if you're constantly beating around the bush. Besides, you gotta put yourself out there if you ever want to truly accomplish anything."
"So what you're proposing," I said to her. "Is a friendship?"
"Yes."
I waited a moment. "I don't even know your name."
"Well that's easy enough," she said, taking a quick sip of her drink then sticking out her hand. "I'm Scarlett."

And so it began.