The phone rang. It was him. I answered. I would always answer when he called.
"Come pick me upppp," he slurred.
"What?" I asked.
"Come pick me uppp." He had been drinking. And from the way it sounded, he had been for quite some time that afternoon.
He never drank.
It was 6 p.m. in the evening. How could he be this drunk at 6 p.m. on a Friday? And why?
"Are you drunk?"
"Noooo. I only had one beer."
Right.
"Where are you?"
"At my house." Why the hell was he calling me from his house? And where was she?
A new song came on. A male group was singing a someone-did-me-wrong song.
"You're with someone! I heard a guy's voice. You're on a date, aren't you?" I could hear in his voice he was upset.
"No! No, that's just the radio. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I just thought you were with someone."
"I'm not. I promise."
"Well, I just wanted to talk to you. I miss you." His voice broke.
We talked for a few minutes.
Suddenly, I heard muffled sounds. He got back on the phone, but his tone had changed completely. She must have made it home.
I heard her ask who he was on the phone with. I heard him lie.
I said "You'd better go. I'll talk to you soon," knowing that was a lie.
The instant that I hung up, I knew that would be the last conversation we would need to have. The lines were blurring. He was calling me from his house. The home he shared with her.
Our relationship had carried on for so many years. It was what it was. It would never change. It hurt too much to continue to be a fixture in his life, but never be his life. I could deal with the eternal heartbreak it would bring me. But I could not bear the pain of knowing his heart was breaking on the other end of the phone.
A tear slipped down my cheek.
"At my house." Why the hell was he calling me from his house? And where was she?
A new song came on. A male group was singing a someone-did-me-wrong song.
"You're with someone! I heard a guy's voice. You're on a date, aren't you?" I could hear in his voice he was upset.
"No! No, that's just the radio. Are you okay?"
"I'm fine. I just thought you were with someone."
"I'm not. I promise."
"Well, I just wanted to talk to you. I miss you." His voice broke.
We talked for a few minutes.
Suddenly, I heard muffled sounds. He got back on the phone, but his tone had changed completely. She must have made it home.
I heard her ask who he was on the phone with. I heard him lie.
I said "You'd better go. I'll talk to you soon," knowing that was a lie.
The instant that I hung up, I knew that would be the last conversation we would need to have. The lines were blurring. He was calling me from his house. The home he shared with her.
Our relationship had carried on for so many years. It was what it was. It would never change. It hurt too much to continue to be a fixture in his life, but never be his life. I could deal with the eternal heartbreak it would bring me. But I could not bear the pain of knowing his heart was breaking on the other end of the phone.
A tear slipped down my cheek.
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