The Opportunist
Page 56The Past
This was going to be super bad. Hurtful. Life altering. The door slid open noiselessly, so noiselessly in fact that neither Caleb nor his collaborator knew that it was open and that there was a very stunned audience standing in its wake.
“Caleb,” I said in a dry voice, because at this point, the life was already sucked out of me.
Their two heads snapped apart and he took a jerky step back. I eyed the way her dress was hiked up her thigh with a sinking feeling in my stomach. This was reality—her, him, and my life falling apart. There was no way he could explain this away and there was no possibility of me believing him even if he tried.
I looked at his face. It was very, very pale.
“Caleb,” I said again. He looked so stunned I cringed. Sorry for being caught. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. The girl looked smug. I wanted to scream Her? Why her?
“I loved you,” I said and that was the first time I had ever said it.
His face crumpled with emotion. How cruel was I to tell him something he’d been waiting for, in the moment of his faithlessness? It was a low blow but this was a fight and I was ready to go down swinging. The little trampette on the table looked at us in amusement.
“You must be Olivia,” she said, hopping down from the desk. I felt revolted at the fact that she knew my name. Did they talk about me? A framed picture of me was positioned near where she had been sitting. My face was witness to their carrying on. I didn’t look at her. I couldn’t. She left the room in a swishing of skirts, leaving two broken people to face each other.
“To be caught? Or to be cheating?” I tried to control the tremor in my voice but it was useless.
“Olivia,” he pleaded taking a step towards me.
“No!” I held up my hand for him to stop. “Don’t you dare come near me. How could you? There is nothing worse that you could do to me. Just like my father,” I spat.
“Your father and I are nothing alike. You have used his sins as an excuse not to love for far too long.”
I couldn’t believe he said that. I loved people, I loved lots of people. I just didn’t tell them.
“You make me sick,” I said. “You could have just been a man about it and told me that you didn’t want me anymore.”
“I’ll always want you Olivia. It’s not about not wanting you, it was about wanting you too much and you not wanting me back!”
I swiped at an angry tear that was ripping across my face and smiled venomously. “So, it’s about sex then?”“I think that I showed you time and time again, that it was never about sex,” his voice was low and menacing. “I loved you enough to put aside every one of my feelings to accommodate yours. What did I get in return? Coldness and emotional detachment. You are selfish and bitter and you wouldn’t know a good thing if it fell out of the sky at your feet.”
I knew what he said was true. I was all of those things and more, but he could have just left, he didn’t have to make a fool out of me.
“Well then, let the healing process start for you right now.” I left him standing in semi-darkness and walked calmly to the nearest exit.
You will not hurt, you will not hurt, you will not hurt….
I hurt like hell. I hurt so violently that I could barely walk down the stairs, so I sat. I sat and I shook and I wished for a meteor to fall to earth right at that moment and hit the spot where I was sitting. I felt raw and exposed like all of my insides had been turned out and I was bleeding all over the floor. How could this happen? Why? He was all that I had.
I heard the exit door a flight above me open and a burst of music followed the breeze down the stairs. Fearing that it was Caleb coming to find me, I hopped up and ran the four remaining flights not stopping until I was in my car.
I turned the key in the ignition with force and the car hiccupped to life.
Damn him. I could love. I had it all inside of me. If he knew so much about me, why couldn’t he see that?
Instead of heading home my tires swerved right and I merged onto the 595 almost sideswiping a minivan. He had all of me, everything I had to give, and look what he did. I trusted him.
“No, no, no, no,” the tears started pouring in masses down my face. “This can’t be happening.” I pulled over, afraid I was going to kill someone with my driving. My mind was unhinging, my light was turning dark.
“Caleb, no,” I tasted salt seep into my lips. I hated myself, more than I hated him and more than I ever hated my father. I was a tragic mess. The ugliest kind of person. I started driving again. I couldn’t go back home, he would come find me. A hotel was still booked, just a couple of hundred miles north, I would go there.
Caleb tried calling my cell phone. I sent his calls to voice mail and turned up the volume on the radio, anything was better than the sound of my sobbing.
The hotel Caleb had booked for us was nice. I remember the fountains and frescos in the lobby and the way the employees greeted you with genuine smiles, but that night my eyes were blind to everything except Caleb’s betrayal. I checked in and carried my overnight bag up the stairs, to the room.
It was still early when I had taken my shower and dressed. I pulled out the dress I had bought just for this weekend. It was airport blue, with just a little bit of black lace on the waist—his two favorite things. I pulled it over my head and went to stare at myself in the mirror. I looked beautiful. I was so ugly on the inside though, what did it matter? I couldn’t stay here in this room by myself, I’d go mad. I grabbed my purse and ran to the door, trying not to see his hand on her thigh.
I knew what I was going to do, something that would hurt him more than he hurt me. That’s the way I fought, dirty. An eye for an eye.
I wandered the busy Daytona streets, staring blankly into store windows. I found exactly what I was looking for a couple of blocks away, Swig Martini Bar. It was subdued and desperate, just like me. I entered through the broad doorway and flashed my ID to the bouncer. A mixture of smoke and a sweet perfume hit me in the face. The smell reminded me of the night I went to Caleb’s frat party on a mission to win him back. How depressing. I crowded to the bar and ordered a whiskey sour. The bartender eyed me curiously when I downed it in one shot and asked for another. I saw him pour an extra shot into the second one—bless him. I took my second drink to a little patio outside where I secured a table facing the ocean. It was a good setting. Mysterious, alone, and looking thoughtful. It was a trick that the best of women knew. Separate yourself from the herd, look beautiful, and a man would wander over.