Fancy A Quickie?

Say What You Need to Say

I KNEW when I started dating Jay Mallory it was a risk. He's a famous musician and even more famous love rat, going through actress after singer after superstar consecutively, usually overlapping at some point, too.

I wondered if me being different to all those famous mistakes would help to ground him or at least provide a something sufficiently different to keep him faithful. I'm an administrator, nothing fancy, yet as he sat in my office waiting for a meeting with my boss he started talking and somehow, against my own misgivings, charmed his way into my life.

When we started dating I told him that I would discard all of his past history but he had to promise me one thing: not to cheat without breaking up with me first. Obviously I didn't want him to cheat at all but I did ask for respect, and for me to walk away with dignity and my trust intact. He agreed, and for a year it never seemed to be an issue.

Then it came.

JAY MALLORY SEEN KISSING MYSTERY WOMAN
Serial love rat singer Jay Mallory was pictured in a clinch with a mystery blonde after the Grammy Awards ceremony last night. His behaviour is more shocking as his most recent relationship has been very low-profile and, until now, unmarred by rumours of unfaithfulness.

Read on for more

Every social media outlet filled up with the same grainy image of Jay, his dark hair all messy, tucked into the face of a skinny blonde girl who most definitely wasn't me. I was ill last night so I couldn't go with him.

I knew he'd stay out after the awards which was fine by me and he agreed that he was due back home by lunch time. I wasn't angry, to my own surprise, nor was I filled with grief, I found myself feeling deeply disappointed at him and my own shortsightedness.

I had several people try to call me but I ignored them; until I'd spoken to Jay I wasn't going to poison my mind. I know what the media can do. It could've been a weird fan sticking one on him for all I know, or perhaps a very distant and overly friendly cousin. I tried to keep my mind clear but I knew, I just knew, the feeling of dread wasn't without basis.

The front door opened and I heard the wheels of his luggage click across the tiled floor. He seemed to know where I'd be and automatically came upstairs to our bedroom.

As he entered I knew. He had dark circles under his eyes, his hair was untidy and he could barely look at me. I got up and started grabbing clothes to throw into my holdall.

"Please, Amy, please listen for a moment," he said with his raspy voice, pleading.

I couldn't talk as I felt my eyes prick with sore tears.

He approached softly and I could feel his warm breath on my neck.

"Please, let me explain."

I turned and he looked hurt as my eyes burned with sadness and vulnerability.

"I- I-" he choked, "I was drunk, and she was just there on me, I couldn't react quick enough."

I felt a jolt of anger shoot through my body.

"Oh, please!" I snapped. "Somewhere between choosing to drink and having her kiss you and getting in a car and getting to the hotel and taking off your clothes and shagging her you had plenty of time to react, so don't pretend like it just happened to you."

He looked down at his feet uselessly.

"What did I tell you when we got together?" I whispered, holding my emotions in again.

"To break up with you before I cheated," he admitted with a tight voice full of regret.

"And despite me trusting you fully you couldn't do the one thing I have ever asked of you," I continued in a low tone. "I won't sell our stories to the press; I won't slate you online; I won't demand anything of you except that you let me go and let me heal."

I threw a final item in my bag and despite my strength being all but gone I headed for the door.

"Amy," he said in a tiny voice that didn't sound like his own, "I'm so sorry, I don't want this at all. This is the biggest mistake I've ever made. Please stay and let me show you how sorry I am and how much I love you."

My heart flipped and the desire to run to him and beg him to tell me it's okay was almost nauseating. I wanted to believe him.

"Jay, I'm not leaving because I don't love you; I'm leaving because I love you, and my heart can't take loving someone who could hurt me like this. I've... I've got to go," I said with as much clarity as I could muster.

I left without another word all the while feeling the weight of crushing heartbreak bombard my very being.