Note to readers, if you want lots of wham, bam, thank you mam then this isn't for you. Part 1 deals with what happened and why, 2 & 3 deal with the aftermath. This touches on depression and attempted suicide, subjects I'm all too familiar with. If this subject disturbs you, I suggest you pass this one over.
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Chapter 1
On my way to Monday classes I had to stop at my girlfriends' apartment to pick up some items I'd left there yesterday. I got to the 4th floor and opened the door, using the key that she had given me months ago. I really didn't expect anyone to be there, she should have been at school, so I was surprised to hear some moans coming from the bedroom down the hall. Had I not had to go into the second bedroom that served as an office/computer room, I probably would never have heard the moaning.
My curiosity aroused, I walked silently down to the bedroom door that was open just a few inches. There on the bed was my beloved Erica with one of the football players pounding into her. The moans I heard were Erica approaching orgasm. Her head was thrown back on the bed, eyes rolled to the back of her head as she called out for Brad, the football player, to give her more and more.
I was in total shock but I did grab my cell and take a few photos and a short video of her calling out that she had never had it so good and that he (Brad) was getting better every time. My heart sank to the floor to find that not only was the love of my life cheating, she'd probably been doing it for quite awhile. How long, I didn't know, or at this point, care.
I turned away from the bedroom, tears blurring my eyes and heart breaking in my chest. Instead of leaving right away, I took the time to quickly and quietly as possible pack up my laptop and all the various disks and items of mine that were in the computer room. I just tossed them into the bag, not worrying about neatness or order as I usually would. I had no plans of ever coming back here again. There were some clothes in the bedroom closet as well. Obviously, there was no way to get them. I didn't care anymore at that point. As I walked out, I took a quick look around, and spied a photo of me and Erica in better times sitting on the coffee table. There were some highlighters and markers on the dining table that served as her desk. I took the black one and with a heavy heart, in large, bold strokes, put an X across the photo, then placed it on the table next to the books that Erica was supposedly studying. She wouldn't be able to miss it, or the message.
I left the apartment as silently as I had come, throwing my key on the floor just inside the door. I wouldn't need it again. I don't think they even heard me leave, or knew that I had been there.
* * * *
A little about Erica and me. My name is Evan Wright. I'm not what you'd call good looking or a jock or anything. I've got brown straight hair that I wear fairly short and grey eyes. I'm not overly muscular or anything, but not a bunch of flab either. I think average would be a good description. I grew up in a small town in the interior of British Columbia. Erica Simms and her family had moved into our neighbourhood when Erica was three. I was a year older. Her parents and mine became close friends over the years and Erica and I basically grew up together. She was my best friend, and we shared everything throughout the years, from the first date to the first kiss (on the swing behind her house) to almost the first everything. Through junior high school and then high school we were pretty much inseparable. We became known as E2 since she was Erica and I was Evan.
We gave our cherries to each other the night of my graduation prom. It wasn't the normal quickie in the backseat of a car at lover's lane, but a night of unbridled sex and passion in a hotel suite near downtown. While our parents weren't thrilled with it, they accepted the inevitable. My dad even remarked that he was surprised that we had waited that long. Though we had done some heavy petting and oral through high school we had made a pact that we would hold off on "doing it" until I graduated. It was magnificent, and I pictured the two of us together forever.
Even when I went away to college, we kept in touch and she would come to visit me or I'd come home on weekends. During the year that I was in college and she was finishing high school I don't think we spent any more than ten weekend days apart except during exams. Then it was a little longer but not much.
When Erica graduated, she got a full ride scholarship to the same college I was attending. Her major was biology with a view to the future in the medical field. I was working my way through as a tech support guy for the college computer network. As well as getting a fairly good pay cheque, the experience was invaluable since it mirrored real world conditions that I would eventually move on to. Already I had had some head-hunters showing an interest in me because of my grades, and the work I did on the college computer network. I also did some one-on-one tutoring for some of the students who needed help in math or some other courses related to the computer systems program.
When Erica started at the college, she didn't want any part of the dorm life, and the thought of sororities and that lifestyle left her cold, so she coerced her father into renting an apartment not too far from the college. I, on the other hand, lived in the dorms because it was affordable, and I was paying my own way. My parents couldn't afford to pay my way through college, but the job with a good pay cheque, as well as the money I made tutoring, made my life fairly comfortable for a student. I hardly ever saw my roommate, but we seemed to get along just fine. Neither one of us were partiers, and Ed, my roommate, was one of the quietest and cleanest college guys you'd ever find. Granted, our room could usually be cluttered and messy, but we weren't really slobs.
Anyway, with Erica living not too far away and having her own apartment, it was like we had died and gone to heaven. We quickly fell into a routine that had us together one or two nights a week and inseparable on weekends. I'd come over to the apartment on Friday afternoon after finishing class. By the time Erica got home, I'd have dinner started (yup, I can cook) and a bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. Life was good, and I thought we would eventually move on to the next logical step of becoming man and wife once we had finished our schooling.
Well, that was then, this is now.
* * * *
After leaving the apartment for my last time I trudged back to the college, my gut feeling like I was going to be sick any second and my heart just absolutely crying. I didn't even bother going to class. There was no way I'd get anything out of the lectures in my present mindset. I dropped of my stuff in my dorm, and made my way over to the cafeteria that was sort of a central meeting place for all the students. I didn't want company, so I grabbed a large coffee, black no sugar, and found a table way in a secluded corner where I could just sit by myself and ponder the events of the morning. I had just sat down when my cell buzzed. Erica. I didn't answer just let it go to voicemail. Then I programmed the phone to block any more calls from her cell, the landline at the apartment, and even her number back at home. Let her call, it would go nowhere now.
I don't know how long I'd been sitting there; long enough for my coffee to get cold. I'd hardly touched it. I gradually became aware of a person sitting across and down at the other end of the table. It was Frances Brown, a classmate. She was one of those people you would never notice in a crowd. Very quiet and introverted. I don't think we'd spoken more than half a dozen times in the two plus years we'd been in the same program. She was known as one of the brains of the class but I'd never had any real interaction with her. I had never seen her at any of the functions, and couldn't even recall seeing her dating anyone. She was the type of person that seemed to be taken for granted. There, but not really there. Like I said, she is the type you wouldn't really notice. The few times we had spoken, I recalled being quite comfortable talking to her.
Anyway, I became aware that she was talking. "Evan, you okay? You weren't at the lectures this morning. Not that you missed much. Old man Adams went off on one of his tangents and wasted a whole period. You look like a big thundercloud is hanging over your head. You okay?"
