The Other Woman

My eyes burn when the first glint of bright sun found its sneaky way into the bedroom. They burned from the sinning mixture of salty tears and stinging sweat. My neck is in a state of paralysis, selfishly not wanting to crane and see the antagonist lying beside me. I can feel his gentle breaths already, burning like acid into my neck. I can feel his left leg, just barely grazing my knee, sending numb shivers across my skin.

It was around noon when I finally manage to wake. I feel completely disgusting, like an old rag that had been used to clean a prison toilet, like complete scum. And in a way, I am.

Angry, confused, guilty, suicidal…I feel it all. I had just permanently scarred Tre and I’s relationship, not just our relationship, but his bond with Billie Joe as well. They would no longer be brothers and best friends, hell; they probably wouldn’t even be band mates much longer now. A line was crossed, severely crossed actually. We had entered uncharted territory.

I can hear the shower running from where I lay moment later. He knows I’ve been awake for some time now, and I knew he had been awake as well. Loathing myself completely I force myself to jump out of bed, stark naked, head hanging low in adulterant shame. The shower abruptly shuts off and I race back to the bed to cover my bare self in the sheets.

He, Billie fucking Joe, pops out of my bathroom, towel secured to his waist, water still clinging to his inked skin. Our sad eyes meet, but no words are spoken as he trails himself to the other side of the room and sits on the bed, opposite to me.

Our backs face each other and I can hear him coughing as he presumably puts his clothes back on. The sounds of his chunky belt being strapped on, clouds my ears, the sound of his zipper going up clouds my ears, and the faint hum of cotton running briefly over skin drones.

“If you—“ he attempts to make some sort of meek conversation.
“Don’t speak to me Billie Joe,” I interrupt in a depressive tone, back still against him, sheets still wrapped firmly around my naked form.

It’s just then that I notice my phone on the floor, almost certainly knocked off the bedside table last night during our moment of passion. I don’t have the energy to pick up the device to see who called and etc. Picking my nails, I dig his skin out of the crevices, flicking the tiny specks to the floor to churn into dust.

Suddenly, I feel his hands being gently placed on my back, which involuntarily jumps to his forbidden touch.
“Seny, I’m really so—“
“Don’t you dare so you’re sorry.” I interrupt in a zombie like tone. And with that said, I stand up and walk towards the bathroom, almost too eager to wash his scent, touch, and lips off of my body. And as fate would have it, I step on my phone, which results in me picking it up from off the floor.

Anger bubbles through my body when my eyes lock with names of co-workers and insignificant people who have called throughout the day. But when they hitch onto a certain name, they grow wide, terribly wide, and the phone falls out of my grasp.
A sob clogs in my chest, and my unregulated breaths are spewing out in a horrid lash of emergency.
“Seny, you o.k?” I faintly hear Billie Joe inquire as he stands and walks over towards me.

And at the sound of his voice, I cry. Tre had called, and ironically the same night that I had slept with his best friend.

Uncontrollable sobbing filters through my bedroom as Billie Joe pulls me into a hug. I place my head atop his clothes shoulder and attempt to convey what’s wrong, but the words are simply too difficult to form.

“He—cl—“ I sob into the cotton of his shirt.
“It’s alright…” he attempts to soothe me, but his voice comes out cracked, sort as if he himself is on the brink of tears.

And when I feel warm water trickling down my neck, my scrambled thoughts are confirmed, he is crying.

It seems like our tears are falling forever and that my home might flood into oblivion when Billie Joe finally lifts his head from my shoulder, and faces me.
Swelling green eyes meet swelling brown eyes. His entire face is wet with trails of black eyeliner smudging the corners. His hair is spewing out in several directions, which makes me want to laugh, but nothing in our situation is humorous.

“We’re going to get through this, o.k?” he whispers to me, gripping me by my shoulders for emphasis. As a zombie, I make no movement; my eyes are locked into thin air. I’m disappointed in both myself and at Billie Joe. But the disappointment suddenly morphs into an almost demonic type of rage.

“Don’t you fucking touch me!” I scream, tearing myself away from his grip. “And don’t give me the ooo, its gonna be o.k seny, oh yes, we’re gonna get through this bullshit!”

Trudging away, I rip my dresser drawer open and rip out a fresh shirt and pair of shorts, preparing myself for war.

“What the hell are you trying to say?!” Billie Joe demands, “I didn’t—“

“You’re scum Billie Joe, pure fucking SCUM!” I scream, walking back towards the now enraged man. “You set this up! You knew your intentions when you FUCKING came here! Don’t fucking act like y--”
“Fuck you!” he roars, pointing a tattered finger in my face. “I only came here for some support!”

“Yea, support for your dick!”

Stunned, Billie Joe only shakes his head, calming himself down just a bit.
“Look, I’m sorry about yesterday. It’s my fault, and I’m sorry. But it wasn’t my intention, Serenity,” he offers

“Yeah. Sure. You’ve got some nerve Armstrong. Your wife’s about to leave your ass, and to win her back…you go ahead and fuck your best friend’s girlfriend. Very Charming. Well done,” I congratulate him. “And now…” I start, tears already plunging back into my eyes, “the one time that Tre called me, IN A MONTH, j-just, so happens t-to be the night that your SORRY ASS COMES OVER!” I cry out.

Sure I’m acting hysterical, but who can blame me?

“Seny…” Billie Joe calmly says, approaching me once again. He reaches out to wrap his arms about me, but I retreat from his advances, scrambling out of the bedroom in horror.

Two days have passed since my fight with Billie Joe. He had left that same morning, but not after attempting to speak to me, which I fully ignored. Taking a different route, he had left a small letter for me to read on my dresser, where it still lays today.

In my mind, I have already decided that Tre comes first, settling down with him and leaking out the truth with him would be the best and most honest answer. And maybe if I had time, I would read Billie Joe’s silly letter, and then get on a plane to California and murder him with an axe.

After Jen had arrived home this morning, I rambled on about my depression and anger towards both men in my life. How I loathed myself, what a disgrace I was, how sorry I was. The tears had hailed down upon her shoulder, and she herself was shocked, asking literally hundreds of questions so I could get my emotions out and about.

“You need to call him,” she concluded as she handed me another tissue from her bedside table, rubbing my back to calm me down.
“B- bu- but I d-don’t want to,” I cry, stuttering out my reply into her shoulder.

“Seny, look at me” she demands, pulling my limp body from off her shoulder. She looks into my eyes, giving my face a once over. Viewing the saturated bags underneath my eyes, the hair clinging to my face, the occasional snot bubble, popping from my nose.

“God, you look like utter shit,” she grins as we sit on the edge if her bed. I cant even smile or show an ounce of delight in my expressions. She continues, “If Tre had slept with me, wouldn’t you like to know?”
I don’t give her a response, just continue to press the damp tissue to my nose, trying to stop it from running was so much.

“Tre will forgive you, in time. I mean, he’s gonna be very upset, shocked, and hurt. But it all takes time.” She soothes me, patting my shoulder in a caring manner.
“He’s going to break it off with me,” I mumble slowly.
“Probably,” she answers brutally, wincing as she realizes just how harsh her words have sound. “I mean, theres a good chance Seny. But I see you guys getting back together, that’s love. You forgive and forget.”

That same night I had finally gotten the courage to call Tre. The conversation was more than awkward. It really wasn’t even a conversation, mostly two word phrases with all too many awkward silences. Yet, he had agreed to come visit the following day, to mend our waning relationship. And hell, he even made me smile at the end.

At this point, my nerves are frying as I try to spot his bright brown hair from the throng of people at the airport. Standing on my tiptoes I strain my eyes to try and spot him from the rest of the crowd, either looking for black sunglasses or a messy Mohawk in the distance.
But to no avail.

Digging into my pant pocket, I dial his number, relieved when he answers.
“Didn’t your plane land yet?” I ask with annoyance, rather than greeting him with a hello.

He chuckles, “yes, I’m here.”
“But I don’t see you anywhere,” I reply a little too exasperatingly, still on my tip toes and stretching my neck to see the love of my life. My heart rate is speeding, my breath a little fast, sort of like after a long run. I needed to see him, it had been much too long.

“Then maybe you should turn around.”

Whipping my head around, he stands there, right in front of me. I watch in a daze as he strips his face of the black sunglasses and smiles at me. And before he nor I know it, I’m hurdling myself into his arms.

My arms latch on around his neck as I wrap my legs around his waist. His arms instinctively coil around my waist, hugging me until my bones might as well break. I sniffle, tears already lining the corners of my eyes, leaking onto my nose.

“I missed you so much,” he whispers into my neck, kissing his way up to my jaw line.

I want him so bad in this moment, but not in this place, which is probably why he lets go of me after our moment and puts me to the floor. With one look into his brilliant blue eyes, I’m both melting and crying.

I knew he had predicted this would happen, so he wraps one of his arms around my shoulder, while I huddle myself against his side, face smashed into his chest, hiding from the public eye. We’re walking, but I don’t really know where, or even care at the moment. I just wanted to tell him, Tre, what had been done…the truth.

But a large part of me didn’t. I couldn’t bare to see the disappointment, rage, and shame in his eyes. I couldn’t bare to hear him yell, shout, or even break up with me. I couldn’t bare to hear the words he would now use to describe me. My heart, my entire being would shatter.

Before I know it, I’m being gently pulled into a vehicle.
“Tre, stop.” I manage to grumble through the now faint tears.
“What is it?”

I wipe at my eyes, and sniffle back any remaining tears and snot.
“I have my car, we don’t need a cab.”

He nods, stopping the driver from loading his luggage into the trunk.

“You want me to drive?” Tre asks when we reach my car.
“If you want,” I offer.
“If you want” he counters with a smirk.

“Were you answering me or mocking me?” I ask, beginning to show a smile.
“Were you answering or mocking me?” he replies

I put my head down, and then look at up him, smiling to myself. He was so wonderful, and I really didn’t deserve him. I didn’t deserve to kiss him, to touch him, to gaze into his sea blue orbs, to have him hold me…

So I steps towards him, and embrace him. Brushing my fingers through the hair on the back of his head. He quietly groans into my ear, adding a supple kiss to my neck.
“I really missed you,” I whisper
“I really missed you,” he whispers back, still playing his little mocking game.

“I love you,” I keep going, rambling pure affection into his ears.
“I love you,” he repeats, moving his hands from my back to underneath my shirt, pushing me against the metal of my car.

“And I’m sorry we haven’t spoken in so long, its my fault.”
“And I’m sorry we haven’t spoken in so long, its my fault.”

“I have an idiot for a boyfriend,” I groan as he massages my chest while sucking on my neck.
“And I have an idiot for a girlfriend,” he mumbles over my skin.

We were now here, the beach. We had gotten to my house later on that evening, but Tre nor I, didn’t want to talk in my apartment, rather outside, away from prying ears…and sharp objects. The car ride to the beach was silent, and when we actually got to our destination, it was even more silent.

The stars are actually visible this clear night on the breezy beach. The stretchy palm trees sway to the left, gliding with the motions of the sea breeze and tide. Waves are crashing along the shoreline, nearly touching our distant feet.

We’re both sitting on the gritty sand, no blankets, no, clothes, just bare, dark sand. Our legs are both bent upwards, knees up to our chests. My eyes are focused on the sea ahead of us and the dark lit skies, and every now and then through our silence, I glimpse as he draws circles and writings into the sand with his fingertip, his hair moving with the palm trees in sync with the wind.

“Do you think I’m not there enough for you?” he suddenly whispers, head still faced down, fingers still drawing in his slate of sand.
I sigh, “No. I understand your schedule, you’re here for me more than enough actually” I respond, my eyes still focused on the glistening water, not even turning to look at him.

The breeze plays through my hair as another round of silence consumes us.

This round, I decide to break the looming silence.
“Do you think I’m too needy? Or shut people out for no apparent reason?”

Again, neither of us turn our heads to acknowledge the other.
“Not really,” He replies

More silence.

Finally, Tre draws out a long sigh and turns both his head and full attention towards me.
“Are you still upset with me?”

“No, Tre!” I answer with slight hostility. “I was never really upset with you, but your bi—“
“Yea, you were.” He interrupts me, now turning his face back towards the glimmering sea, his voice much calmer now. “You can’t just take back all that was said that day. You told me that I wasn’t there for you, and I’m sorry I wasn’t. I am.”

“Look at me.” I demand, grabbing his rather large head, turning it counterclockwise with my hands so that he’s facing me. “I’m an ass. There’s no way plausible way you could’ve been there that day. I was being a selfish bitch. You got that?”

He only smirks, but I know he doesn’t buy my excuse.
“I’m serious Tre. When I think about it now, I was just subconsciously using you as an emotional scapegoat. I guess I was just pissed at Jack, Jen, even myself. So I kinda rushed it all onto you, and I’m really sorry for that. You didn’t do one thing to deserve that type of treatment.”

“Well, I’m sorry for being an ass. I should’ve been a bit more considerate instead of competing with you,” he responds, his entire body now facing my own, just as I’m facing him.

I move my mouth to say more, but his finger is quickly plopped onto my lips, hushing my rambling.
“Don’t say anything, o.k? I haven’t seen or heard from you in about a month. I just want the rest of tonight to be perfect, alright?” he says softly, brushing his nose against mine, turning me into a worthless blob of putty. But when he leans in to kiss me, it all comes whirling back like a tornado.

The lies, the betrayal, the judgment, the affair…my truth.

“Wait...” I pause, retracting my head from the much needed kiss that he’s still leaning into.
“What?” he asks, concern dripping in his voice

“Tre, “ I sigh, dropping my eyes from his blues to stare into the dark sands. “I have to tell you something extremely important…”

I’m not sure what his expression is, my eyes are still locked into the sand, not wanting to view his dejected eyes and enraged tenor.

“Oh gosh,” he mutters sadly, already preparing himself for the hydrogen bomb I’m about to drop. “What happened Serenity?” he mumbles slowly…cautiously.

I choke through my words, “I…