“But…” I began to cry. Big, ugly, fat tears fell down my cheeks.
“She makes me feel good about myself,” Brad said. “I can go out with her in public and not worry about what negative thoughts people must be thinking. We have way more in common than you and I do. For starters, she actually takes care of herself.”
“Brad!” I yelled. “I’m trying! I will continue to try! Just give me more time.”
He finished his beer and set it down on the side table before walked up to me and bending down.
“She turns me on in ways that you never will,” he said, looking right into my eyes for the first time that evening. “There is nothing that you can ever do to compare to the things she does to me in bed. She doesn’t just lay there because she’s ‘too tired’ to change positions. It’s the best sex of my life.”
“I can change!” I didn’t want to let him go. I was willing to do anything to change his mind, even a few risqué things that he had brought up before. What the hell would I do without him? Where would I go?
Who would love me?
“I’m tired of being with an insecure, unattractive woman, Tiffany. I work too hard on my body and looks to be with someone like you. I deserve to be with someone fun and beautiful like Jessica. Being with you, and staying with you, was a huge mistake.”
Before I could respond to his harsh words, he stood up.
“Take care, Tiffany,” he said, walking out the door and out of my life.
I sat there for a while, in complete shock. “What the hell just happened?”
In a matter of a few minutes, I’d lost my fiancé and the future I’d planned. The wedding, the house near the beach, our two kids. All of it was violently ripped from me in an instant.
What was I supposed to do with forever now? It was destroyed. Obliterated. Gone.
Not only that, but I’d been blindsided by the fact that Brad was cheating on me with Miss Big Tits from the gym. I should have paid more attention. But then again, I was too caught up in planning the wedding to notice that he was canceling dates and staying late at the gym. I was planning our future life, while he was destroying it.
I was trapped in a nightmare that I couldn’t escape. This wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be.
The past seven years and all the history we had together, was over just like that? No. No fucking way. I pressed my hands to my face and let out a muffled scream.
The worst part? He didn’t even care. I was left completely heartbroken and shattered, while he was probably on his way to Jessica’s to have the best sex of his dicked up life.
I’d to speak to my sister, Rachelle. She was my rock in tough situations. I needed to hear her voice and listen to her words. I needed her to tell me that things were going to be okay.
“Hello?” My mother answered the phone. Worst case scenario. Ugh. My mother. Shit.
I thought about hanging up, but knew that she had caller ID. I sniffled as I tried to make my voice sound clear and strong.
“Is Rachelle there?” I asked. My mother scoffed at me.
“Nice to hear from you, Tiffany,” she sneered. “Your sister isn’t here. Why are you calling her?”
I supposed that I couldn’t hide the failed engagement from my mother. She would find out sooner or later.
“Brad broke up with me,” I cried into the phone, tears bursting from my eyes as my heart broke in my chest all over again. A small part of me hoped that my mom would be sympathetic for once in her life.
“Ha!” she laughed into the phone. “I knew it! I knew he wouldn’t stay with you. A man like that doesn’t stay with a fat pig. Let me guess, there’s another woman in the picture, too?”
“Just let Rachelle know I called,” I said, hanging up the phone. I didn’t think it was possible, but I felt worse than I’d before I called. I crumbled to the floor and let myself have a good cry. My mother’s harsh words had been spoken too many times in my life for them to matter at that moment, but the sting from losing Brad was painful enough.
There wasn’t much lower I could go.
After my cry, I set my phone down and noticed a Facebook notification pop up from my co-worker responding to a wedding question that I’d posted earlier in the evening.
“Great, I’m going to have to do a complete clean sweep on my social media accounts.”
Wedding talk was all over my Facebook, asking my friends which florist to use and what dress shop to go to. I’d to tell them all that it was over, and they would want to know why.
What would I tell them all?
Brad left me for another woman.
A confident, attractive woman from the gym.
A woman who probably wouldn’t even serve cake at her wedding ceremony.
A fit, beautiful, better than me woman.
Story of my life.
“Dude, what happened to your fantasy team this weekend, bro?” My assistant, Maurice, appeared in my doorway. I flipped him the bird with a grin on my lips.
“Shut up, man,” I said, rising from my desk. “How was I supposed to know Gronk would have gotten hurt and pulled out of the game?”
Maurice grinned and shrugged his shoulders.
“I don’t know,” he said. “But, I am sure glad I won! That means you are buying lunch today, right?”
I grabbed a folder from my desk and walked past him.
“Sure,” I responded, although lunch was the furthest thing from my mind. I’d to find Tiffany, our newest fact checker, and ask her a few questions about an article I wanted to run in this month’s publication.
“Where is Tiffany?” I asked. Maurice shrugged. As usual, he was no help.
“Have I ever told you what a great assistant you are?” I asked him sarcastically. He laughed and began to walk with me.
“There she is,” he said, pointing down the hallway. Sure enough, there she was. Damn, she was a gorgeous human being. She looked especially good today. She had on a tight, red sweater that wrapped around her breasts. She paired it with a black skirt and black heels. Her long, dark brown hair was curled. I’d been instantly attracted to her when she started working here nearly a month ago. I’d flirted and invited her to get drinks with a group of us after work, but she had politely declined.
* * *
I wanted to get to know her better. While she was a nice girl and ended every conversation with a smile, I also sensed a sadness about her that I couldn’t quite place. I struggled with how a woman that beautiful could be that sad. From the outside, she had a great life. She got along with everyone in the office. She had a good job and good looks. What was there to be sad about?
“Good morning, Tiffany,” I said as I approached her. She turned around quickly, nearly knocking the folder from my hand.
“Oh, Jesus, I am so sorry,” she apologized. She seemed flustered.
“Good morning, Mr. Lewis,” Nikki said. She was another fact checker at the magazine. The two girls shared an oversized office.
“Remember, you can just call me, Cayden,” I reminded her. Unlike Tiffany, Nikki had tried to throw herself at me quite a few times. Not that I was surprised by it. I was used to women fawning over me.
“Tiffany, can we go back to my office?” I asked. While it wasn’t anything important, I just wanted to get away from Nikki. Sometimes her flirting ways suffocated me.
Tiffany looked at me with a look of concern splashed on her face.
“You’re not in trouble,” I said. “I just have a few questions about this article.” I waved the folder in my hand. She let out a small sigh of relief.
We walked toward my office in silence, leaving Maurice and Nikki behind us.
“Did you have a good weekend?” I asked, as we entered my office. She nodded.
“It was fine.”
Her answers were always short and sweet. She was always making me work for more, but I kind of liked the challenge.
“Mine was fine, too,” I said, answering my own question. “I actually lost to Maurice in fantasy football and now I owe him lunch.”
She nodded, letting me know that she had heard me.
“Would you like to join us?” I asked. She wrinkled her nose. It was a nervous habit of hers that I’d already picked up on.