Unfaithful.
The ugly word sounded foreign and strange when I said it out loud. Like it had been the name of a dish or a shampoo. I wrote it down on a piece of paper.
Unfaithful.
Meandering, curving lines in blue against white, making a pretty picture of symmetry and grace, but without any meaning.
"It didn't mean anything. SHE means nothing to me. It was just sex!"
Moron. As if that would make me feel better? That he threw away the beautiful thing we had together just because he felt an itch? Actually, it WOULD have been better if he had fallen in love with that woman. You can't help falling in love. If he had left me to be with his heart's desire, it wouldn't be so tacky.
"It didn't mean anything."
Fool. Of course it meant something. All actions, big or small, have consequences. He cheated on me. He had solemnly promised not to have sex with any other woman but me, and now he had broken that promise. He had taken my trust and wiped his ass with it like it was toilet paper. As a result, I could never trust him again. Hell, I could never trust ANY man again! 3Β½ years of waiting patiently, of staying true to my man - why had I bothered?
Yes, I was bitter. And I felt pretty damned righteous about it, too! The man I loved had put horns on my head! Well, my sweetheart, I'd use those horns and turn myself into a she-devil. No more Mrs Nice Gal! From now on, I'd be a Bitch. A She-Devil. I'd not let my emotions control my life anymore. I'd be cold and cool and analyze the situation just like I did with the numbers and figures at work. Jean-Paul had cheated on me. He was a stupid, unworthy chicken - but I still wanted him. Apart from everything else, he was strong, handsome, witty, and nice to curl up next to for comfort. Oh - and he had a HUGE dick. The good qualities compensated for the bad ones. As long as I didn't fool myself into thinking that I could trust him not to cheat on me again, or think that life would ever be as pink and sweet and sugary as in the movies; I could make this work. With a few alternations to our previous arrangement, that is...
***************************
Since Jean-Paul's work required lots of travels and overweight stays at hotels in other cities - which, apparently, was where he hooked up with that woman - I was left alone every now and then. And if HE couldn't stay faithful, then why the hell should I? I drove him to the airport and kissed him off. I didn't stop to watch the plane take off, but instead went back to my car and drove down an old, familiar street. There were lights on in Diego's window. Good, it meant he was still up. I pressed my finger on the button next to his name. A few seconds later, his light, melodious voice came through the little metal box.
"
DΓgame
."