I had just about had it. My boyfriend had cheated on me and I'd gathered all the evidence. And it was pretty damning. It had, of course, involved me snooping into his non-password protected iPhone while he was in the shower one morning.
And what an idiot, I had thought silently to myself. Because who, in this day and age, doesn't password protect their electronic devices?!?!
The evidence was easy to find, too. I didn't have to look very hard; the aforementioned texts to her were right there, pinned to the very top of all of his texts.
They were even pinned before mine.
I frowned as I quickly opened, then skimmed down the text thread. She was some girl named Amber, and according to my boyfriend's texts to her, she had perfect titties.
I clutched my chest at that. I was not a small breasted girl. But he had never said one thing nice to me before about my breasts.
My frown deepened as I scrolled down a little bit further, and bingo - this bitch's text thread included racy photos. I squinted my eyes and brought the phone closer to my face. Ha, I thought. Her boobs were considerably smaller than mine. I pursed my lips together as I looked. Ok, maybe they were a little bit more symmetrical than mine were, but whatever.
I threw his phone down onto the bed. To hell with slut shaming. If Jared wanted to send nasty dick pics to some skank with perfect tits, more power to him.
That was only emotional cheating, true, and it was bad enough - but then the physical cheating had begun. He started spending all his weekends at his great-grandmother's house to help her do chores and general things she couldn't do for herself anymore. At least that was what he'd told me.
What a joke.
And in the beginning I'd been such a fool that I'd believed him.
Judging from the content of the text messages exchanged between Jared and Amber, spending time with his old great-grandma hadn't been the case. Instead, Jared and this girl had met several times at some sleazy motel off of the highway where people only went for quickies and...for God only knew what else.
At least he hadn't spent loads of money on a nice hotel for her. He'd gone the cheapest route possible, short of fucking her in the back of his car behind a stinky dumpster at an abandoned rest stop.
At first I had been loathe to believe that he was cheating on me, and I'd kept the information to myself. But finally, one night after a particularly heated argument over whether or not we were ever going to get engaged, I got pissed at him and I presented Jared with my evidence. But he, like always, tried to talk me into thinking I was crazy.
"That's not what you saw," he scoffed, when I accused him of what he'd done. "She's just a coworker," he'd said. "Those were work texts."
I had just stared open mouthed at him for a few seconds.
"What?!" I finally said angrily. "Work texts?!" I growled. "Her name is Amber and you told her that she has perfect tits! She even sent you pictures of them!" My eyes narrowed and my finger pointed at him. "Since you sell cars, Jared, and you're not a plastic surgeon, I wouldn't think talking about boobs or getting boob pics on your cell phone would be a part of your job!"
But Jared had just waved me off dismissively and had turned to walk away.
"And, you've been spending your weekends with her!" I added, closely following him. "At that sleazy motel off the highway just south of town!"
He'd narrowed his eyes back at me. I could sense the gears turning in his little cheating head. He was thinking. Hard.
Then Jared surprised me and changed tactics altogether. He told me stories and spun ridiculous tales about my trust issues and had even implied that it was I who had been unfaithful to him.
"Whatever," he'd said. "You know, Ruthie, if I had a dime every time you cheated on me, I'd be a rich fucking guy."
"What?!" I'd screeched. He couldn't have any evidence of me cheating on him because I hadn't. I knew I hadn't done anything wrong...hadn't I?
I immediately shook that last thought out of my head. His manipulation had sometimes made me question the truth and he had convinced me in the past that I'd been the one in the wrong and not him.
Well, this trickery of his had worked on me in the past, unfortunately, but with this undeniable evidence that I had seen, he was now taking things a bit too far.
I had finally reached my limit.
I squared my shoulders and I took in a big breath. "Get out," I said.
His face morphed into an expression of absolute disbelief. "Of the apartment?" He said. "You can't be serious!" He scoffed.
"Oh, yes, I am," I said. "I'm leaving for awhile. And when I get back, I want you gone," I said, my voice quavering just a tiny little bit. But mostly I was proud of my resolve and strength.
Then he had frowned at me. "You want me to leave?" he said. "Why? You're the one that's pissed," he said.
I narrowed my eyes at him, and then I moved. He watched me, neither of us saying anything more. I could feel my face heating and my armpits prickling. I knew I was about to cry and I needed to put some space between us or...or...I didn't know what I'd do.
In righteous anger I had then stomped over to the front door coat closet, grabbed my jacket, and I'd stormed past him out the door and into a steady and cold November rain.
I heard the door open behind me. "Hey! Where do you think you're going?" He yelled after me.
I couldn't respond. I needed to run. Wordlessly, I got into my car, squealed the tires as I backed out of my parking space, and I quickly sped off.
I didn't even pay attention to the scenery or to the road signs as I angrily drove. I meandered around for a long time, and didn't even really pay any attention to where I was going. I did know, however, that I was getting deeper and deeper and higher and higher up into the mountains.
Then the tears began to fall.
I was embarrassed and humiliated, and crying about it was all that I knew to do. I sniffed loudly. I had invested so much of myself into this goddamn relationship - a good five years - and Jared had tanked it like it was nothing.
He'd torpedoed us just like a Navy submarine under heavy enemy fire.
I wasn't even aware I was ready to stop, but I finally ended my drive deep inside a nearby national park.
I slowed and parked my car at the deserted trail head. My eyes wouldn't focus on the scenery. Instead I sat in my car and I watched the rain run down my windshield in rivulets as the tears ran down my cheeks.
After several minutes of heavy sobbing, my tears finally slowed down to an errant tear dropping off my chin here and there.
"Enough," I choked out. "I can't cry over that asshole anymore," I said out loud to myself.
I dug around in my purse and I found a couple of tissues. I wiped the tears off my cheeks and chin, and then I blew my nose several times. I took a deep breath and I blew it out in a big huff.
I opened the lighted mirror in the visor and I put my hands back onto the steering wheel. Staring at myself with my red-rimmed eyes I said: "I am a modern woman. I am better than this," I said. I took a deep breath that ended in a deep sigh. "I also need a drink," I murmured. But since I had no alcohol in the car, that was impossible. "Okay," I said. "Instead, I need a walk," I mumbled.
Then, my heart still very much hurt, I'd snapped the visor mirror shut, gotten out of my vehicle, and I had determinedly set off on a mountain trail that I'd never been on before.
I sighed as my legs worked to propel me along. Walking was my go to. Whenever I walked, it always made me feel better. I did it whenever I needed to clear my head. And if ever there was a time to clear out my jumbled thoughts, now was that time. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought about what a walk right now actually meant.
I glanced up briefly at the sky. Thanks to the steady rain, I was soon both soaking wet and cold. I put the hood of my jacket up, but it didn't really do any good as my jacket was made out of very thin material and wasn't water resistant.
But nevertheless, I continued. I walked and walked and the trail climbed and climbed. Suddenly, and from seemingly out of nowhere, it began to spit snow. I looked up at the sky again and I shivered. I was really regretting now not grabbing my winter coat instead of my thin jacket.
I blew hot air into my cupped hands over and over, trying to keep my chilled fingers warm. I finally paused in my walk, glancing around at all the trees that surrounded me.
My eyes finally focused on the scenery. The views were beautiful: rolling green mountains with deep, picturesque valleys, the closest one even sporting a river that lollygagged on its slow journey to some far-away sea. But the sheer emptiness around me was starting to concern me. "I'm really out in the middle of nowhere," I said out loud to myself.
And in fact, I hadn't even seen any other hikers on the trail. I made a face at that thought, though. It was most likely because of the hinky weather.
I took a second and I glanced upwards again. The sky was a hard, steel gray, and it was now snowing even harder. The snow was even beginning to stick to the ground around my feet. The wind had steadily picked up since I'd begun my hike. Even worse, it was now starting to get dark.
I questioned the sanity of my choices, and so I turned around a few times and I trudged on, in the direction that I thought was taking me down the mountain and back to my car. But the trail had split a little while back, and the path I now took somehow didn't look familiar to me. The terrain was rougher. Small pebbles and rocks caused me to slip and then to slide sometimes on the trail's steep grade.
Even worse, I had left the house in such a rush I hadn't even brought my cell phone with me. Most likely I couldn't have made a call, given the probable lack of cell phone service out here, but this also meant that I had no flashlight. Minutes passed by and it got steadily darker. The snow kept falling and I kept shivering.
