3
The next afternoon, I lost myself in my studio,
painting.
Ever since I’d found out about Mark and his secretary, I’d screamed, raged, threatened to kill myself, trying to force him to end things with her. Nothing had worked.
Back then, he would pinch the bridge of his nose, look at me with these complicated eyes,
and say:
“Bailey, in this circle, everyone has a little something on the side. I just have one, you know? And I swear, she won’t show up where
to VID
you’ll see her, and you can still be my wife,
the Mrs. Mark.
I’d been a total mess, falling on the cold floor, covering my face with my hands, crying: “I don’t just want to be your Mrs. Mark… I want you to love just one person…”
Mark would slowly kneel down, get on my
level, his voice as calm as ever, but his words
empty of love.
“I do love you, Bailey. You’re the only woman
in the world for me.
دو
And then he’d leave, telling me to calm down.
I’d completely lost it then, grabbed a piece of
glass, and slashed my arm, like that could
somehow cut through the pain in my heart.
I had thought about divorce, of course, but I
couldn’t bring myself to do it.
We’d been together since we were kids. How
could that be worth less than a woman he’d
known for three months?
I tried to fight off the temptations of the world with my love, and predictably failed.
I was suffering, and I was stuck in old memories, trapped in all those empty
promises that Mark had made.
<
promises that Mark had made.
My friends were the first to see that
something was off, they took me to see a therapist, and we went on a trip to relax and recharge. That’s where I discovered painting.
When I paint, I can temporarily forget about all those things and people who were
suffocating me.
Mark came home early tonight. I came down
from my studio to find him already at the
table.
I was surprised, wondering why he was back
so early for once.
As soon as he saw me, he asked, “What’s for
dinner? You always made me dinner,
remember?”
Mark was a fussy eater with irregular habits, and I’d worried about him getting sick. I used to get up early to make him breakfast every
day.
But after Amber had appeared, he had stopped eating my breakfasts.
I’d started making dinner again, trying to win him back, but he was always working late or had events, and never came home for it.
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I answered flatly, “I figured you’d be working.
If you’re hungry, have the staff make
something.”
He tightened his lips and looked up at me, “Bailey, I feel like you’ve changed.”
I just smiled, “Really?”
“Yeah.”
Mark blinked at me like a child, a hint of hurt
in his voice,
“You used to ask me all the time when I’d be
home for dinner. I feel like it’s been a while
since I last heard you ask me that…
“”
<
Di1UT 1 1a3l nitai u yuu aɔn 1110 lal.
….
But Mark, people don’t just change overnight.
I know, that when I asked you when you’d be home for dinner, you’d tell me that you had to work or work late, but you were actually just
in bed with Amber.
That reminder, that betrayal just makes me
feel disgusted.
