Tear Stained Beaches (9 page)

Unfortunately for Rick, his groveling had no affect on Meghan and the status of their relationship stayed the same. She was adamant about not giving second chances as she fully believed in the saying “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice shame on me.”  Meghan, though not knowing her for too long, seemed like someone who refused to be played for a fool.

“I didn’t cry again until he walked out of the restaurant. It took many more nights of crying in my pillow, and watching Friday night tv with a pint of ice cream in my lap, before I was able to put it all behind me; but eventually I did.”

At least that’s the story Meghan told me. It may have been just me, but I swear I saw a glitter of pain pass through her eyes at the very moment she said that. I think we all learn to move on from the pain in our lives, but it doesn’t mean the scars don’t still exist. During moments like this, the drudging up of the past, the hurt is still very much there. Not wanting to think about it any longer, Meghan gently pounded her hand on the deck railing and turned to me.

“And you’re going to move on too! And you’ll be a much better person because of it.”

“Thank you, I needed that,” I said. Until I did move on, though, Meghan was not going to let me drown my sorrows in some cheap bottle of wine.

“Now run back home, literally, and get ready for a girls’ day. Today is my day off, and you and I are going to have some fun. I’ll pick you up at eleven, so be ready. Go; get running.”

“Alright, I’m going. I’ll see you in a couple of hours.”

I gave her the address to my beach cottage and was on my way. I was very impressed that I had run four miles and almost, yes almost, made it home without getting sick. With only about a quarter mile to go, last night finally caught up with me. My face met the nearest garbage can it could find, and made its acquaintance for a few minutes. The rest of the way home was a slow and steady walk.

After a cold shower, I felt a million times better and got ready for another gorgeous day. Meghan’s story gave me a little bit of hope. She seemed happy with her life, and even had a new man, which meant she had actually opened herself up to the possibility of loving again. It was a good thing I had met her. She reminded me very much of my best friend from back home in Rochester. Her name was Lauren. She had the same long black hair as Meghan, but wasn’t nearly as tall. Lauren was one of those people who, no matter how bad things were in your life, she always knew how to find the good in it. She’d give you hope when you thought there was none. She was one of those rare people in your life that you could always count on. Even with her busy life raising two kids, under the age of five, she always made sure she took the time to call me each and every week to check in. I felt like Meghan was that kind of friend for me at the moment. When I first got to Kettlewood Island, I thought I needed to be alone. I wanted to spend all my time locked away in my room, crying, sulking, and being angry. I slowly realized that feeling sorry for myself wasn’t going to do me any good.

For the time I’d been Chase’s wife, I’d done things I thought would make him happy to the point that I lost myself along the way. I prepared dinner every night like a wife was supposed to do. I got dressed up in fancy dresses and walked arm and arm with him to every work holiday party. I paid all the bills, kept the house in order, and made a fresh appetizer every Saturday for the neighborhood brunch get together.

I couldn’t remember the last time I just sat down to read a book, or watched a movie at the theater: did something just for me. Now don’t get me wrong, before all of this, I loved being Chase’s wife. It was just that early on in our relationship I was able to balance Chase time with me time. It seemed like I hadn’t done that in awhile. Instead, I did what was expected of me. After reminiscing on how my life had turned out, I was ready to go out and have some fun.

Meghan pulled up in her Volkswagen convertible. I hopped in and we drove along the coastline, just admiring the scenery.

“Where are you are taking me?” I asked.

“You’re very lucky you’re hanging with a local. You’ll learn all the secret hot spots in no time,” She joked.

“Are we are heading to one of those hot spots?”

“Yes ma’am. There is this amazing home-made popsicle shop just north of Kettlewood Island. You are going to love it.”

“You’re telling me we’ve been driving all this time for a popsicle?”

“Like you had anything better to do. And yes, a popsicle that’s to-die-for.”

I think Meghan’s mouth was already watering by the time we pulled up to a cute little store-front. “Mango infused watermelon is my absolute favorite.” She literally skipped to the front door. Looking at the menu above the register, she let me know her opinion of each and every flavor. It was clear she went there often.

“I’m going to go simple for my first time. Can’t get too crazy you know. I’d like the pineapple and coconut please.”

The girl behind the counter handed me the popsicle and, after one taste, I had to admit Meghan was right: it was well worth the drive. On top of the peaceful, scenic drive up here, the popsicle was delicious.

In between licks of her fruity creation, Meghan would quickly text on her phone. Being sure to hit send each time before she lost any drips. We stood outside in silence for a while. She was distracted. I could tell by the smile on her face it must have been the ‘sort of’ boyfriend she had mentioned before. I teased her about her expression, and she laughed.

“He says he has something important to talk to me about, but wants to do it face to face. I’m not sure if I should be worried or not.”

“Any idea what you think it could be?” I asked.

“Not even the slightest. He’ll be back next week. Said I have to wait until then.”

“I’m sure it’s a good something. No need to be worried. You guys are good right?”

“Never better,” She assured me.

I nudged her side in shared excitement and she jokingly pushed me away as if to say,
you’re so fresh
.

“So, are you happy we came?” Meghan asked.

“I am.”

“Finish that up. We have some shopping to do. We need to find you some single-girl clothes.”

I was uneasy at that comment. Still torn by what I was actually going to do, Meghan’s words made it all seem so final. To me, final was still the furthest thing from my mind. Not wanting to seem ungrateful at all she’d been doing for me, I just smiled and went along for the ride. We did some shopping at the boutique stores that surrounded the popsicle shop and then headed back to Kettlewood Island for dinner. To no surprise, the last place Meghan wanted to go for dinner was her family restaurant. She loved working there, and of course the food, but it was nice to change it up. We went to a local burger place a few miles from the beach. Meghan ordered a cheeseburger, and I settled on a grilled chicken salad with a side of honey mustard

We sat there for a few hours and talked. We talked about what made her decide to become a teacher, her family, and my crazy housewives back in Charlotte. One thing we didn’t talk about, though, was Chase. Meghan made sure to skip that subject completely. She was determined not to let him get to me. She kept telling me how strong I was, how I would do great things in life and how I was still young and had so much more life to live. I wanted to believe her. I wanted to believe I was a strong person—that I could hold it together when things fell apart and that I could stand up to Chase and hold my ground. But that night proved her wrong. It proved me wrong. What a mess it was.

I planned on going to bed early. The sun had just set and I was already home, comfy in my pajamas. I hadn’t heard from Chase all day, but that changed once I was in bed with the tv on. When I first saw his name light up on my cell phone screen, I jumped. I tried hard to ignore it at first and just let it ring. After the first four or five continuous calls, ignoring it became a challenge.  My phone beeped with voicemail after voicemail and didn’t stop. It continued for an hour before I couldn’t take it anymore. I fought with everything I had until finally, I grabbed the phone from my nightstand and answered it.

At first it was silent. I didn’t even say hello, but my breathing was so heavy I knew he could hear me. My name, in a quiet whisper, came through the phone. I let out a deep sigh and closed my eyes for a long minute. I held on to that quiet whisper. It was the way he would always say my name in bed when he couldn’t sleep and wondered if I was still awake.

“Haylie, please talk to me?”I wanted to talk to him. I had plenty of things to say. Good things, bad things, mean things, there was so much I wanted to say, but nothing would come out.

“Come home Haylie.” Finally, with my eyes still closed, I spoke to him.

“I’m not coming home Chase. Not yet, I need a little time away to figure things out.”

“I don’t understand what there is you are trying to figure out. I didn’t do anything wrong Haylie. I don’t know why you think that.”

My body clenched up. The calmness and comfort hearing him say my name gave me immediately disappeared. I was angry once again. He was lying to me, and I knew it. I wanted so badly to tell him that I saw his video. That I knew about his secret vacation plans, but I couldn’t bring myself to. Maybe it was because then he would know there was no way out, and I would actually have to hear the words come out of his mouth. I would know the truth, and there would be no escaping it. Or maybe it’s because he would’ve told me I was crazy—that I was making something out of nothing and I would start to believe him. I wanted to be as strong as Meghan thought I was, but I couldn’t, at least not at that moment. It was too raw. I said nothing.

“I love you Haylie. I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that. Seriously, just to even know you could ever think I’m capable of something like this—it kills me. Please come back babe. Lets talk about this.”

I was amazed at the real sound of sincerity in his voice. Like he actually believed what he was saying. If there was one thing I knew for sure, one thing that had come into fruition these last few days, it was that somewhere along the path of our relationship, Chase had become a very good liar.

              “I need more time,” I finally said. “This is all just too much to handle right now. I just want to be alone.”

              “How much time?”

              “I don’t know. Another week or two.”

              “So you won’t be home for the long weekend?”

“No,” I said. “Please Chase, just leave me be for now. When I’m ready to talk I’ll let you know. Until then, I just need to be left alone.”

“I hate this. I just want to hold you and show you how much I love you.”

“I am asking you to do this one thing for me.”

“Ok, I will give you space. I love you Haylie. Remember that.”

It was hard to hear those words. I didn’t respond. There was nothing I could say to that. I hung up the phone and cried myself to sleep.

Chapter 17

Chase had listened to my request and I didn’t hear from him again. I know he had done what I asked him to, but I still wondered if it bothered him—if it took great strength for him to not pick up the phone, or if he was too preoccupied with work or her. Perhaps, since he knew I wasn’t going to be home anytime soon, he’d call to meet up with her. Or maybe he spent his nights waiting for her call instead of mine.

I’d cried often since that night. I thought about how Chase and I met, and how happy we were on our wedding day, and all we’d been through as a couple. It was heartbreaking to end it and scary to even think about trying to find that same passion with someone else. How does someone who’s given their entire heart to someone, and loved someone with all they have, ever let someone else in so intimately again. I struggled with the fact that I wasn’t good enough. That someone else had given my husband what I couldn’t. No feeling in the world was worse than that.

Finding out your husband is having an affair is pretty similar to the grieving process one goes through when losing a loved one. You grieve for what you’ve lost, try and remember the good times you had with them and then, at some point, you learn how to find peace in a memory. I hadn’t gotten that far yet. I was still grieving—for what I had not put an end to yet and for what I knew I had to come face to face with.

The next few days went just as quickly as the last. I continued my morning workouts and sometimes Meghan joined me. During the day the two of us went to local boutiques for shopping, toured a few of the local museums and, of course, made sure we spent some time lounging on the beach to get a tan. There were times here and there where I would see Meghan check her phone, smile, and text back.

I could tell she was excited for her reunion with the guy sending those texts. She never said much about it; I think it’s because she wasn’t ready to accept that she’d really fallen for him. She wanted to play the tough girl. She liked to show the strong, independent, don’t-need-
anyone-to-take-care-of-me attitude. But I could see it by the way she jumped off her towel each time to grab the phone. Her silent laughter at whatever conversation they were having made it obvious she was invested. Good for her, I thought. She had become the person I believed I needed to be. Sure, I thought about going home, talking to Chase and putting it all behind us. Maybe if he was truly sorry for all he had done we could move past it and rebuild the life we had planned. However; as much as I’d hoped, I didn’t see it as a real possibility. There was
too much he had hidden from me and lied about that my trust in him had disappeared. I knew in my heart that there was no excuse for what he was doing. There was no way out of it. I would have to start over.

I had to learn to depend on myself now. It was time to take care of me, and focus on what I wanted. The hardest part was already done. I had walked out, made the first move to leave, even if it was just for a little bit. I was sending a message to Chase that this type of behavior was unacceptable, and that I wouldn’t stand for it. It was just one step, the first of many, but don’t they always say: the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.