December 2019
I fucked up.
It seems like this happens on the regular now.
More than anything, I wanted to be able to have a fresh start with Vanessa, but when the opportunity presented itself, I didn't communicate how I should have, again.
You would think I'd have learned from my first divorce. Communication is key.
Vanessa hasn't spoken to me in several weeks, and I don't blame her. She already had to deal with one liar before in her marriage, why deal with another?
If I wanted to defend myself, I could have told her that I just didn't think about it.
But that would be a lie, too.
I did think about it. In fact, I thought about it a lot. Anytime I was with her, I purposefully hid the information from her. I never told her because I didn't want her to be disappointed in me.
Well, now she is, and then some.
I place a box marked "kitchen" on the large island in my new apartment, and take a swig from my hydro flask. I've been moving my things in all day, and although it's been a great physical distraction, it's done nothing to keep my thoughts from wandering.
I look around the spacious unit. Clearly labeled boxes are stacked on top of each other in almost every room; I think Vanessa's insane organizational skills are starting to rub off on me.
I smile somberly, and try to remind myself that I should feel relieved. I should feel relieved that I have found a new apartment, back in the city where I belong. I should feel relieved that I've escaped the clutches of Dawn once again, and that I finally know the truth.
But all I can feel is emptiness.
I've wanted Vanessa since I first saw her months ago, through my rear-view mirror as she slammed on her brakes in order to avoid rear ending me in traffic.
When she tried to hide her face behind her hair in the conference room on that very same day we met.
When she spilled coffee on her sleeve in the break room, and then when she glared at me as I tried to help her clean up the mess.
When she finally admitted that she wanted me, too.
I've wanted her for what seems like a very long time.
But I can't have her.
At least, not yet.
She needs to take the proper time to heal from her divorce, and I need to sort out my priorities when it comes to life-altering decisions.
Dawn was a bad decision; a mistake I will never make again.
She lied to me, constantly. And even if her love for me was true, it will never outweigh the sly and sneaky behavior she exhibited during our marriage.
The anger boils inside of me again, and I have to take a seat on one of the kitchen stools as I remember our conversation about the baby.
He, or she, was never mine. At least not biologically.
Dawn had cheated on me with Cole during our marriage.
When she finally confessed to me, I had had enough. She's gone, out of my life now, and I'm sure I'll be better for it.
Cole went into hiding somewhere, and I haven't spoken to him since.
I know I should feel anger towards him, but I don't. It was so many years ago, and I have to admit, I actually felt relieved when Dawn told me the baby wasn't mine.
It didn't take any of the pain away, but it did take some of the guilt away.
Fucking Vanessa in the elevator helped, but it was for all the wrong reasons.
I know she only fucked me to get over her ex, and I also know that doing so probably made her feel worse. Not to mention the fact that I never told her about Dawn.
I didn't want our first time together to be like that, but in the heat of the moment, it seemed like the best thing to ever happen to me.
It still feels like the best thing that ever happened to me.
I want her. Bad.
No, I need her.
But I won't force myself on her. She'll need to make that decision for herself. And if she comes back to me, I'll be here.
I don't care if it's months from now, or years even.
I'll still be here, patiently waiting.
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Short but sweet. What do you think is going to happen to Chris and Vanessa's relationship? Will they end up together? Or do you think their time together has come to an end? Let me know in the comments!
Don't forget to VOTE ⭐️
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For A Reason
ChickLit"I just thought..." I begin, flustered, not really sure where my words are headed. He shakes his head. "We can't," he states, removing my hand from his. "There are a million reasons why we can't." He runs a hand through his hair, seemingly frustrate...
