Cheating Across the Pond

“Hi, Mom,” I said into the phone, “I'm doing great. I had dinner with Uncle Ryan and I'm getting situated here in Manchester.”

“How's the weather? Is it as dreary as it is on TV?”

“It's not bad. Everyone's been really nice, except for the receptionist. How's Dad?” Dad. My mother re-married my stepfather, Jim, when I was seven. My real father died, when I was five. I'll never forget my biological father but Jim raised me. I'll never forget, when I first called him Dad. I was ten. We were really close and I had been working up the courage to call him Dad. I had tried several times before, but I would end up calling him 'Jim.' My mom couldn't make my soccer game so only Jim was there rooting for me. When we won, I rushed up to him and gave him a hug. I asked him, 'Did you see how good I was, Dad?' He was so happy and shocked.

“He's doing well.”

“Mom, did you ever have doubts about getting married?”

“Oh, honey,” She cooed, “Cold feet is perfectly natural. Just give it some time and focus on how wonderful your future with Stephen will be.”

“I guess, you're right.”

“Of course, I am, honey. Now go to bed, isn't awfully late in England?”

“Mom,” I protested, “Good night.”

“Good night darling.”

I laid in bed, thinking about Stephen and Cristiano, Cristiano and Stephen. I need to call him. “Hello? Stephen?”

“Hi, baby!” Stephen slurred the words, ever so slightly. “How are you?” There was loud music in the background that drowned out some of his words.

“I'm great. Is this a bad time?”

“No, not at all, baby. I'm hanging out with friends.”

“Steve, are you in a club?” I asked incredulously.

“Of course I am. It's fun Friday.”

“I'm going to call you tomorrow, okay? When you're sober.”

“Sure thing, honey bunch.”

I could hear loud shouting and goading in the background. I hung up, feeling empty and alone. I wish I had someone to call. Someone to talk to. Someone to tell them how I felt. I dialed the first number that came to mind, “Hello? I'm sorry. I know it's late. You were- you were just the first first person I thought of to call.”

“No, no, it's fine.”

“I hope I didn't wake you.”

“You didn't. What's wrong?”

“Stacey, I'm-I'm just so confused, right now. I need you to promise me that whatever I tell you, you can't tell anyone else. No one, especially Ryan.”

“Of course. What's wrong? You're starting to worry me.”

“I need you to say it. I need you to say that you promise to not tell anyone.”

“I promise that I won't tell anyone what you're about to tell me. I swear. Alyssa, you're scaring me. What's going on?”

“I went to Cristiano's house,” I winced at the silence.

“Cristiano Ronaldo?”

“Yes. I was working late and he was there talking to Sir Alex about his contract, I guess. We talked and he invited me to dinner. I had no idea it would be at his place. He made dinner for me and we were talking about everything. Next thing I know. He's kissing me and I kissed him back and-” I rambled.

“Did you have sex with him?” Stacey asked bluntly.

“No. We talked a little bit after. I told him about Stephen. Then he took me back to the apartment.”

“You have nothing to worry about. He kissed you and that's that.”

“Stacey. I'm scared. It- the kiss it felt so right. I've never felt like that with Stephen.”

There was nothing but silence and the soft sound of Stacey's exhaling and inhaling.

“Stacey. Please say something.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Something, anything!”

“You know how you feel and I can't say anything to change that.”

“Stacey!”

“Okay, okay. Maybe you're just missing Stephen. You've been with Stephen for so long that you're craving that affection that Stephen usually provided. It'll all blow over when Stephen comes to Manchester.”

“I hope you're right,” I furrowed my brow as I wandered to the balconey.

“Me too,” Stacey murmured.

“Sorry for keeping you up. Thanks for listening to me.”

“No problem.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

The wind was blowing and whipping my hair around me. I looked up into the velvet sky and dialed Stephen's number again. One ring. Two ring. Three ring. Nothing. “Stephen. I'm lonely and scared. Right now, I'm looking up at the sky up here and all I can think about is that maybe you're looking up at the sky, too and that we're wishing on the same star,” I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and my voice started to falter, “And maybe you're thinking of me, too. Maybe wishing the same wish on that same star,” I hung up before I broke down into a sob.