Regrets Part 3
I wake up with a pounding headache on the couch of the large house. I don’t remember the majority of last night. Then again, I don’t seem to remember the majority of the nights in the past month.
I slowly drag myself off of the couch and to the kitchen. I notice an expensive bottle of vodka placed beside a slightly darkish cup filled with it. I take the cup and place it in the sink, deciding to clean it up later.
Walking over to the dark wooden cabinets, I take out a small pill bottle with advil in an attempt to get rid of the painful pounding in the back of my head. I shut the cabinet, and as it makes a loud and startling sound as it closes, my eyes avert to the oven timer that’s glowing in bright green characters.
That’s strange, I thought, usually she was downstairs by ten. Whether she was watching TV, or reading a book by the large window, y/n was normally downstairs rather early.
I open the fridge to grab some water, but as my hand loosely grips the handle of the refrigerator door, I notice a small blue post it note with a key to the house glued onto it. The small key casing with the depiction of a cartoon character lets me know that it’s hers. I read the post it note.
‘I’m sorry you had to do this to me’
I drop the bottle of advil, sprinting up the stairs and pushing the door to her room open aggressively. Her bed is neatly made, and her nightstand that once held a wedding photo and an album copy now looks empty. I open the drawers, only to see magazines with our faces on them shoved inside without any traces of her clothing.
Her restroom is cleaned and there aren’t anymore colorful baskets to hold her appliances in. There aren’t anymore fruity shampoos or colorful lotion bottles, and my heart is suddenly caught in my throat.
‘Stop being a delusional fucking child and grow up’
I quickly run into my room to find my phone. I have to call her, I have to let her know that I love her and that I was tired and angry and that i’ll give up everything for her. I walk into my bedroom and grab the phone on the bed, realizing that it’s my second phone rather than my first. I feel even worse than I already did- if that is possible.
Because as i’m standing in the bedroom that I kicked her out of months ago, a phone filled with text messages from other girls in my shaky hands, i’ve never felt more like shit in my life.
I take the second phone, angrily throwing it on the ground. I pick it up and throw it against the wall and it shatters. I leave it and walk down the stairs slowly, I still need to find a way to talk to her.
I find my phone wedged between the two cushions of the couch and turn it on, immediately seeing numerous text messages on the lockscreen. I immediately type her name into the ‘new message’ box, composing my thoughts into short blue bubbles. I type a message, beginning with an apology but I figure that a pathetic ‘Hey, sorry for marrying you and then cheating on you with like 20 other women’ won’t fix the situation at hand. I continue typing and deleting messages.
I know this girl, I know her enough to marry her and i still know that she needs reassurance.
‘I still love you’ I send to her. The text message fails to go through and instead i’m met with a red exclamation mark and a ‘not delivered’ displayed in small red letters on my phone screen.
I set my phone down and rub my hands along my face, feeling my eyes grow wet.
I didn’t mean for it to get this far. It was just one night in London, and all of a sudden I was uncontrollable. I’ll never be able to justify my actions and I think that’s what hurts the most- the fact that I let it go on. That it wasn’t ONE drunken mistake, but multiple sober ones.
I reach for my phone blindly but instead find myself grasping a familiar black velvet box.
I thought she’d at least kept the ring.
The possibility of her coming back suddenly disappears and I feel my chest burning. The pounding in my head from the hangover is incomparable to the amount of hurt I feel in my stomach. She left without even telling me.
I know that i’ve been a pathetic excuse of a husband lately, blatantly cheating on her and then denying the accusations when she finally confronted me. I remember how beautiful she looked, even when she had stains of black running down her cheeks from her mascara.
My phone buzzes and I look down to see a text message from Geoff, I probably owe him an apology as well.
“Y/n is at our place. I think you should talk.”
I’m suddenly interested and I quickly type back as a small sliver of hope remains in the back of my mind.
“Pass the phone over to her Geoff, I need to talk to her”
Following the small letters notifying me that Geoff has read my message, I call his phone. The phone continues to ring and with each ring I begin to sink further and further into a horrible mental state.
“Hello?” Geoff answers and I immediately feel relieved.
“Let me talk to her.” I demand, and although I meant for it to come out in a nicer way, my urgency can’t help but make my words seem demanding.
“I don’t think she wants to talk to you right now, Shawn” Geoff sighs, and I can almost picture him looking over at her frightened state.
“No, give me the phone” I can faintly hear her voice in the background, and I automatically remember how much it means to me. I can tell she’s been crying and I feel like absolute shit for being the cause of it.
I hear shuffling on the other end of the line and then a quiet.
“Hi.” She bluntly states an introduction and I immediately wish I was there with her. Her voice sounds shaky and I can hear her ragged breathing through the phone.
“I love you” I blurt out. I may not have a long time on the phone with her, so I decide to make the most out of these limited minutes. I need her to know, even if she doesn’t believe me.
“Shut up, Shawn” She says and her voice becomes higher. I can tell she’s on the verge of tears, and my chest begins to ache again.
“I love you. And I know i’ve treated you like shit recently, I know i’ve taken you for granted and completely ruined everything we had. I know I was so selfish and I know that nothing I could say into this phone right now could fully make up for it.” I fidget with the small velvet box, flicking it open and closing it repeatedly with my thumb.
“I woke up this morning and I saw the key and the note on the fridge. I saw all of the magazines you’d left behind and the pink bottles of shampoo in your restroom weren’t there anymore. And then I” I wipe away tears that are involuntarily slipping from my cloudy eyes.
“I walked into my room and I just didn’t want to be there anymore. I didn’t want to be in my own bedroom, so I could only imagine how shitty you felt when you were here. You were cleaning my room and making me dinner, you were tucking me into bed after I got home from being with other people and I can’t imagine how horrible you felt while doing that.” I can hear her breathing heavily on the other line.
“So i’m sorry. I stopped by Geoff’s yesterday and I remember all of the pictures he had up with his girlfriend. I remembered taking down our pictures because I was being selfish, because I decided i’d rather hurt you by making you think I didn’t care, rather than telling you that I was wrong. I took those pictures down because I didn’t want to feel guilty every time I looked at them, but now I realize that I should”
“Please come back. I put all of the pictures back on the shelf. I made your favorite dinner on the table, even though it may be a little bit burnt. I need you here and I want you here. I love you.”
“How long?” She croaks out.
“How long did I cheat?” I ask back and I can almost feel her wincing at my words.
“Too long. It started out with one girl - a model at a party. I knew she was using me because there was a rumored headline the next day. I remember feeling so bad that I ignored for you the whole day. You were crying when I got home and I could hear you through the walls so I put in my headphones and slept on the couch because I was selfish.” I tell her.
“I talked to a lot of girls, you probably know that. But every time I found myself with them… my mind seemed to wander to you. I would wonder what you were doing, whether or not you finished that book you loved or what you ate for dinner while I wasn’t there.”
I begin another sentence but she interrupts me.
“Why did you do it?” She asks, and I can tell that she’s refraining from asking them all at once.
“Because I was selfish. Because we got into an argument, and I gave up on us just like that. I messed up the best thing that ever happened to me because of one argument and if I could take it back, it’s the first thing i’d do.”
“No” She tells me, and I feel obligated to reply.
“You did it because you were dumb. You were reckless, and you threw us away because you didn’t want to fight. We got into one argument Shawn, ONE. What happens when we get into our next? Will you go cheat on me again? I can’t trust you anymore. I can’t be the girl who waits for you to come home every night so she can tuck you into bed and then cry herself to sleep. I can’t be that girl for you because I know I deserve better than that.”
Her voice continues to crack and she has to pause at certain points. I’m sobbing with my head in my hands and I can’t seem to fight back because she’s right.
“You’re right” I lick my lips.
“You can’t trust me, I can’t even trust myself. But I can try. I can try to be better for you because I know that you’re what I need.” I tell her.
“Please come home” I beg her.