Hiding Within The Betrayal

Chapter Twenty Five: What was the occasion

After the incident in the office, I found the rest of my evening was an absolute misery. It didn't hit me until much later that evening but it was the first day in weeks that we didn't message each other outside of work.  Not a word was traded between us the entire evening. I waited for something, for anything but nothing ever came.

I couldn't get the thought of it out of my head. My mind was lost in the kiss. The foolish way that I had left him kiss me and even more to how I wanted to kiss him back. Not so much the reaction I had or how he flinched at my words but to that feeling that pushed me to the dark side. How it flooded my mind with repressed memories.

Beautifully toxic thoughts.

Patrick hadn't even worked alongside me for two months. Yet somehow, in the last few weeks I felt closer and more comfortable with him than anyone else in that office, bar maybe Tess. My day off was spent in self pity as my mind ran over the events again and again. Not just of what happened in the office but to where I knew that feeling from. I never had to deal with feeling low, not in this way at least, I had no idea of how to cope with it.

Mid day rolled around and I knew it was best to eat something as I overslept and missed breakfast. I selected a microwave meal from the fridge and waited impatiently for it to heat up. I could have gone out somewhere but I wasn't feeling it. I hadn't been on the prowl for a long time. It helped ease the pain before maybe it could heal this wound. The last one I had was before Patrick was part of my company. I thought about it for a minute but mentally spoke myself out of it. I wasn't sure of myself. Something was wrong.

Taking the meal out from the microwave, I dumped myself onto the sofa in the living room and turned on the TV. Adverts began to play just as I found a program that I wanted to watch.

My phone, which I had turned silent on, was there on the side table.  Maybe he had texted me but I didn't know since it had been on silent. Or posted some soppy piece on Facebook or Instagram. I had to resist. I couldn't like him. I couldn't open myself up to someone again...

Having no self control, I took it from the stand to see if I had received anything.

No texts. No missed calls. There was no sign of him trying to get in touch with me since the incident in my office. Nobody wanted to talk to me.

That's when it hit me. It wasn't him on my mind. The feeling in my chest, it made me think to her. To Skyler Evans. My dearest Skylar...

Logging into Facebook, I typed in her name.

I had removed her from all platforms but given our jobs, we had mutual friends so she was the first to come up. I hesitated for a second, considering if I wanted to jump down the rabbit hole even though I knew the consequences.

Clicked onto her profile.

Two years gone. We had avoided one another ever since. More to the point, I wanted to avoid her, she was too frightened of me to cross my path after what happened. For a long while after, I had to keep myself busy. I had taken myself away from work in the time that we were together, so going back it became everything to me. That's when I first split my team. To have two cases going on a once. Until that time I hadn't done it. I hired two new members and tried to deliver quicker results.

She worked for the police. We met on a case. We got on like a house on fire. I found myself clinging to her for comfort. I shared everything with her and I thought she did the same until the night I came home to find that the house we shared wasn't my home anymore...

There I was scrolling through her page. Birthdays I had missed. Special occasions I had missed. By the looks of it she had moved on. The woman I found her with, she insisted that they weren't romantic the way we were but I refused to let my emotions control me. I pushed her out of my mind for the longest time. I couldn't forget that woman though. This goddess of a figure. The sun is as dark as the earth. These tight box braids are so compact and neat leading towards her pristine breasts going to town on the love of my life.

I was nothing in comparison. My patchy complexion and chunky thighs. If I had met her any other way I'm certain that I would have wanted a slice. But until walking in on them two, I was loyal: no intention to fool around.

I found photos of them together. Skylar and this woman. The dates were months after their affair but they were there all the same. My searches were interrupted by a text. It came across the top of my screen like a traffic light. I slid it off screen and scrolled into the comments. People saying how happy this woman made her. That they hadn't seen her so bright before.

Jealousy struck my heart like lightning.

Setting the half eaten meal aside, I clicked off the photo and went further back. To where I was. To where we were. She posted fewer things about us than she was posting about this new woman. There were no comments on our photos, the odd few maybe but nothing like the ones from her recent relationship. Another text came across my screen. I swiped it away. And then another.

"Oh for fuck sake!" I screamed seeing the words.

It was Patrick.

Patrick: Degarmo, I need to see you this is too hard.

I wasn't in the mood. I ignored it. Tried to. I put down my phone and dried the mischievous tear that crawled from my eye. I fumbled around for the remote. I got up from the sofa, the blanket dropping to the floor as I struggled to find where I had set the remote. I tried each side of the sofa and couldn't find it. I lifted the blanket from the floor and put it back onto the sofa understanding that the remote wasn't there either. I turned to the side table and realised that I had left it there next to my empty glass.

Highly irritated, I grabbed it and slumped back into the seat. I clicked through the channels. Comedy. Yes. Comedy. That's what you turn to when you're sad right? I found a film and clicked it on. I lent back to the sofa. It couldn't have been five minutes before there was knocking from the hallway. I lived in a studio apartment. It was very common to hear the surrounding rooms when they got loud. I brushed it off thinking it was one of my neighbors. Then it came again. Much louder.

Was that my door?

I got up from the sofa. Yes, it was my door. As I moved towards it I could tell it was coming from my door. I hadn't ever had someone knock at my door. In the three years that I lived here not one single person came to visit me. What was the occasion?

I reached the door. I was about to unbolt it when I remembered that there was a peephole. Skylar's house didn't have one. Nor did the flat I lived in before living with her.

The figure on the other side shocked me.