Break Down The Walls

Saturday came around faster than I had expected, and I decided to start getting ready around 5. I had only seen Emilio briefly here and there since we talked on the phone, so I was more than ready for tonight.

I took my time showering, washing my hair slowly and letting the conditioner sit in my hair for a while so it would be extra smooth. After my hair had been washed to smell like my vanilla shampoo, I got out and dried my hair. When it was 100% dry, I straightened my hair to perfection, and spritzed myself with some perfume.

I chose to wear a tight black dress with black cage heels. I paired it with a pearl necklace the Emilio had given me for my birthday a while ago and grabbed a silver clutch from my closet. I sat on the couch at 8, waiting for Emilio to come pick me up. I had butterflies in my stomach for tonight and I don’t think I had been this excited in a while.

At 9, I was still waiting on the couch. I had no missed calls.

At 9:30, I had called Emilio 4 times, texted him 3 times, and left him 2 concerned voicemails.

At 10:00, I called him 6 more times, texted him 2 more times, and left him another voicemail.

At 10:30, I called him 2 more times, texted him one more time, and didn’t leave a voicemail.

At 11:00, I called him once more, didn’t text him, and did not leave another voicemail.

At 11:30, I didn’t call him, I didn’t text him, and I did not leave a voicemail.

In a way, this date and going out had been a step to bringing us back together. In my mind, it was my last chance for Emilio, and I had spent so much time wishing he would seize the opportunity and not fuck it up. But he did. He fucked it up, so hard, that I didn’t even know
what to do.

I sat on the couch for such a long time, simply staring at the wall in front of me. From the outside, I must have looked bored or lifeless, but in the inside, my mind was racing with angry thoughts.

At 2:31 in the morning, I got off the couch. Grabbing my car keys, I hurried down to the garage, and sped off. By 2:53 I was in front of the car dealership, which was pitch black. No light, nothing was open, as if it was a ghost town. Silently, I drove back home.

Arriving home, I didn’t go to bed. I didn’t change or take my makeup off. I sat back on the couch, stiff and rigid, waiting.

Just waiting.

And waiting.

Nothing but waiting

At 4:29 in the morning, I heard the front door click open silently. I had left a small light open next to me, which cast a ghastly shadow on my entire body.

“Querida, what are you doing up?” Emilio asked when he came into view, surprised to see me.

“What day is it?” I said back, in a monotone voice, no emotion on display.

“Saturday night, Sunday morning? Why?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

“Do you see what I’m wearing?” I said, standing up and looking at him directly in his eyes.

“A dress, yes you look lovely. But why are you-“ he said, cutting himself off as he realized what he had just done. A look of apology swept over his face.

“I am so so so so sorry Sophie! Honestly, I forgot! I was working! Let’s go out tonight yea?” he rushed out, obviously feeling like a douche. Which he was. Big time.

“Really, Emilio? Working? Is that so?” I asked, anger starting to boil up inside of me. I flicked on the downstairs lights so that now I could see him clearly in the light, and not just
stare at a dimly lit shadow.

“Yes! Where else would I be?” he lied smoothly.

“Oh, why don’t you tell me? Because when I went to the dealership, just a few hours ago, you were not there. Nobody was. It was pitch black, locked, with no cars in front. So why don’t you save the bullshit, and start telling me the truth.” I sneered, my fists clenching to form tight balls.

“Okay , so maybe I went to Oreilles, the new bar with some guys after work, no big deal. Sorry, I should have told you!” he said, shocked by my anger.

“Well isn’t that just fucking funny. I went to that bar a last week with a girl friend of mine. They close at 1 in the morning sweetheart.” I smiled, but it was far from being a nice smile. It was filled with venomous hate.

He stood there, most likely racking his brain for any possible excuses and lies. He had no more.

“So tell me the truth, the whole truth, because I deserve to know after all this time.” I said, now inches way from his face.

Still, he just stood there, his eyes clamped tightly shut, and he looked in pain.

“What’s her name?” I whispered slightly, looking at my feet.

“Julie.” he said. I felt my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach and shrivel up. That one word had confirmed my suspicions for so long, it had slapped me in my stupid face.

“For how long?” I managed to choke out, still tearless.

“4 months.” he replied, opening his eyes to look at me. “Are you breaking up with me?” he asked quietly.

I snapped my head up to look at him when he had said that. He thought we were still going to be together after what he had just admitted? Sadness had completely left my body and soul and was replaced with pure, boiling anger.

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK EMILIO?!?” I yelled, surprising him once again.

“Okay, fine. Let’s take a break!” he said.

“No! We are not taking a break, we are done. So done. You’re absolutely pathetic and disgusting. Sleeping with another woman and then bringing your sleazy ass back into my bed, and putting your arms that have been around another woman, around me. All your lies, that I believed, all that you have put me through these past few months. Not once, NOT ONCE, did you ask how work was. Did you ever ask how my first day went? If l liked it? No! Because you never cared, and you still don’t. It’s all about you and your selfish little self. I feel so ashamed to have fallen in love with you, and that at one point in our relationship I thought I would marry you. I am so glad that I didn’t. You are dead to me Emilio.” I yelled, ripping his necklace off my neck and handing it to him.

“I made a mistake! We can go to counseling, I’m sick Sophie!” he said, pleading after me.

Looking him right in the eyes, I turned my face to stone.

“Starting right now, we are moving all of your stuff out of my apartment. After all your stuff is packed, you are not to call me, text me, or try any means of communication. I never want to see you again.” I said, and with that I walked upstairs, with a beat-down Emilio following me.

I didn’t want to pack with him, nor did I want to see his face, but this was the fastest way to get him out of my life. We packed all of his stuff silently until 3 in the afternoon. I didn’t say goodbye when he left or gave me his keys to the apartment. After he had shut the door, I felt a sort of relief sweep over me.

This was a fresh start. I had a great job, great friends who would surely be there for me, and I was an independent woman. Life was good.