A Lover's Lie

I sat down at my desk, furnished by the Ritz, the luxury Paris hotel. The deluxe suite was beyond beautiful; Gold painted ceilings, chandeliers that shined beautiful lights throughout the room, the balcony that gave view to the best sights in all of Paris. I looked towards my King sized bed situated towards the back wall of the suite. Its crimson comforters were disheveled on and off the sides of the bed due to this evening’s romp.

As I hear the water running in the shower along with my boyfriend in it, I glanced at my phone to look at the time: 2:34 AM. The Paris life outside has inevitably died down; and all I could hear from the opened balcony doors were faint sounds of police cars and some people clicking their heels on the sidewalk below us. I checked my Facebook; no new notifications. My twitter had no new mentions, as well. The only notification on my phone was a simple text from my husband, ‘I miss you’. Not knowing what else to do, I swirled my champagne glass filled with Don Perignon and turned on my playlist. Rumour Has It was the first song to play. I laughed at the irony.

I’ve been in Paris for a month. My husband thinks that I went here for work, but what does he know?

She, she ain’t real,
She ain’t gonna be able to love you like I will,

He thinks that I have been working endlessly on establishing my name in the fashion world, learning how to make my name known to all the French designers. Boy is he wrong. In a way, I did make my name known: my boyfriend sure as hell knew it as he was screaming it at the top of his lungs while making love to me.

She is a stranger,
You and I have history, or don’t you remember?

Now don’t get me wrong: I love my husband. Correction: I loved my husband. But after being married for three years, I realize that it was the biggest mistake of my life. He and I are polar opposites. I hate the marriage life. The only reason I ever got married in the first place was to please my father and convince him to pay for my modeling before I got on my feet.

Sure, she’s got it all,
But, baby, is that really what you want?

I hate the feeling of being tied down in marriage. You are constantly constricted to only loving that one person, emotionally and physically. And if you, God forbid, break that vow you took in church, to forever love and be faithful to your husband, well… that is a sin. Thank God I don’t believe in any of that.

Bless your soul, you got your head in the clouds,
She made a fool out of you, and, boy, she’s bringing you down,

You can call me a sex whore, or a cheater, and that will all be right. I’ve been having boyfriend after boyfriend ever since that miserable and useless day at the altar. First, it was John, the doctor that I hooked up with after a show that I designed for New York fashion week. Then, it was Liam, the guy that I ran into in a London pub.

She made your heart melt,
But you’re cold to the core,

And now, it’s Jonathan, the playboy bachelor who lives in Paris. His father owns Ritz hotels in Paris, London, Switzerland, and Italy. He, by far, was the longest relationship that I have ever been in; 2 months and 1 week. Normally, my relationships, if I can even call them that, don’t ever last past two, three weeks tops. It’s only for the money, and of course, for the sex. I charm my way into their pants, and at the same time, I charm my way into their bank account.

But rumour has it she ain’t got your love anymore,

I will definitely be breaking up with Jonathan soon enough, for sure. I don’t want him to get the feeling that there could ever be anything between us. Although, I don’t know how he can even get that assumption. Sure, we have sex, and make love, and sure it’s fucking amazing, but he knows that I’m married. On the other hand, he also knows that I don’t love my husband, and he also knows that I would do anything for money and sex; money and sex that he is willing to give.

He showers me with expensive presents from all over the world. A diamond necklace from Tiffany’s, a gold and diamond watch from Cartier’s, during the start of my trip, he even gave me a brand new Mercedes-Benz to get around Paris easily and in style. We dine in all the expensive places; we sip on the best of the best wine and the most celebratory champagne. He, of course, pays for everything; the car, the suite, the food, I just sit back and enjoy being indulged.

She, is half your age,
But I’m guessing that’s the reason that you stayed,

I’m momentarily startled when I hear my phone go off. I check my screen and my heart has the familiar feeling of apathy it has felt for the past month every time my husband has called. Without even thinking, I roll my thumb over the red button to signal ‘Ignore Call.’

I’ve heard, that you’ve been missing me,
And telling people things you shouldn’t be,

My mind starts to ponder on my husband. God, if only he had a clue on what I have been up to for the last three years of our marriage. It’s quite funny to me how he actually thinks I could or would be faithful to him, or to any man for that matter. He still believes I love him. He still believes I care for him, and who am I to tell him different.

Like when we creep out and she ain’t around,
Haven’t you heard the rumours?

Almost instantly, his name is on my screen again. And again, with the same intensity, I roll my thumb over the red button to ignore the call.

Finally, I get irritated the third time he calls and I give in and pick up.

“Hello,” I said with a groggily voice, to make it sound like I just awoke.

“Cut the crap, Jenna,” he yells on the other end of the line. “I know you aren’t sleeping; now why the hell have you been ignoring my calls?”

Bless your soul, you’ve got your head in the clouds,
You made a fool out of me, and boy I’m bringing you down,

I immediately react, “I’m sorry, babe. I’ve just been really tired lately. I’ve worked five shows in the last three nights,” I make up. I also add a yawn at the end to really seal it off.

You made my heart melt, yet I’m cold to the core,
But rumour has it I’m the one you’re leaving her for,

“Yeah right,” he says. He does not believe me. Finally, that idiot got a brain. “What were you really doing? Were you making out with some guy? Were you?!”

All of these words, whispered in my ear,
Tell a story that I cannot bear to hear,

“What?! Where the hell did that come from?” I asked, astonished. “Baby, I would never do that to you. I love you so much,” I say. I make sure that I make him believe it.

Just ‘cause I said it, it don’t mean that I meant it,
People say crazy things,

I hear him sigh on the other end of the line. “I love you too, Jenna. I’m sorry that I assumed things I shouldn’t have,” he says into my ear. Meanwhile, I hear the shower turn off, and the door open.

Just ‘cause I said it, don’t mean that I meant it,
Just ‘cause you heard it,

“It’s okay, baby. I love you too. I gotta go to bed. I’ll call you later.”

As we exchange our goodbyes, I hear Jonathan come up from behind me. I slightly turn around, just to get a glance of him. He only has a towel around his lower body.

“Who were you just talking to, babe?” he asks me as he begins to massage my neck with his hands.

“Just my idiot husband,” I reply simply. He goes from massaging my neck, to planting small seductive kisses on the nape of my collar bone.

“Are you going to come to bed soon?” he asks between his sweet kisses that feel oh so good.

“Yes,” I say as I put my hand in his and walk slowly to the bed.

But rumour has it he’s the one I’m leaving you for.