The stench of her vagina filled the bathroom when she sat on the toilet to release herself; her pee producing slight comfort from the itching sensation. She scrunched her face and shooed the lingering smell while her heart fell to her stomach. Tears reluctantly pooled in her rich brown eyes. There was no longer the safety net of denial to settle on.
She wiped her tear-stained cheeks with the back of her hand, then used a wipe to clean herself. After, she took the soaked panty liner, discarding it in the trash and replaced it with a fresh one. Pulling up her pants then flushing the toilet, she went to wash her hands.
Chantel unconsciously glanced in the mirror, her movements slowing down as she took a good look at herself. Redness caressed the highest points of her face followed by her bloodshot eyes.
"This should've never happened," she mumbled, her voice breaking in between. But, it wasn't clear whether or not she meant the relationship or his disloyalty.
Within the span of six months, she lost track of how many times she received bacteria vaginosis. The first time, Chantel figured it was a coincidence, remembering most women suffered from an off pH but, the second time raised some skepticism; especially when her OBGYN suggested having a conversation with her longtime boyfriend, Michael.
Not only was the BV gnawing at her stomach but so was the intuition she constantly ignored. Instead of accepting the bitter reality, Chantel pushed those thoughts away, hoping the deception would go too. But, deep down, she knew the truth. She and Michael have been together for so long, the idea of him cheating was unfathomable.
No matter how many clues gave way to Michael's infidelity, Chantel convinced herself that everything was considered alleged. It was only then, when she knew she had to make another appointment, all the evidence was provided. She didn't have to see it to know it was happening. Quiet as it's kept, catching him would probably make things harder.
Bank statements sent via mail notified where the money for rent was going. Chantel rolled her eyes, thinking about the numerous times Michael acted as if he didn't know why they were coming up short for rent. Restaurant receipts carelessly sat near the trash bin. It was as if he wanted to get caught. He made it easy for her yet she still chose to dismiss the possibility.
For some reason, she assumed if there was a problem, Michael would be mature enough to bring forth a conversation, or better yet, she'd notice. However, none of the two transpired.
Chantel cut the water off and shook the excess from her hands before wiping them on a nearby hand towel.
Was this really happening? She asked herself walking into the living room and sat on the couch.
For hours, Chantel sat in the same spot, dwelling on all the changes she subconsciously noticed:
The way he freshened up when he came home, rejecting her attempts to be romantic and rushing to the shower. Matter of fact, the audacity of him showing his face at a recognizably late time as months passed. How he changed the password to his phone. She was scared to bring it up because it'd make him suspicious of her actions.
There were so many signs and red flags flashing brightly in front of her face, she couldn't even be alarmed anymore, just disappointed.
So many questions ran through her mind driving her insane. She didn't know whether finding out the truth would do harm or good but, the moment the door clicked from the lock, her heart thumped out her chest.
Chantel glanced at the digital clock from the tv's cable box. He was early; earlier than usual. Her foot lightly tapped against the carpet.
YOU ARE READING
Leave It All Behind | Tired
Short Story[𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐝] Chantel confronts her long term boyfriend, Michael about his infidelity.
