Let's Waste Time

Trent wouldn’t answer his phone. I left him a bunch of messages like, “Trent, talk to me. I’m sorry, alright? Just let me explain. Give me something.” I didn’t know what to do. I’d betrayed him. He’d been honest with me from the start about Sasha. But Chris was right. It wasn’t fair for him to keep screwing her while I sat around waiting weeks for him to visit again. Then I just got angry, so I called him again.

“You’re a huge hypocrite, and you know it. Call me,” I said. Then I hung up and tapped my phone against my knee. I was lying on my couch, half-dressed and angry. Luckily, I didn’t need to call him again. My phone rang a minute later.

“It’s me,” Trent said.

“I’m so sorry.” I sat up and dropped my head into my hand.

“I honestly don’t know what I’m supposed to say right now.”

“I know. I was just so lonely, and you weren’t here, and I was upset. I got carried away. I didn’t mean for you to find me like that.”

“How long has this been going on?” I picked at the edge of my coffee table. It was time for me to come clean too.

“A while,” I admitted.

“Do you love him?” he asked.

“No, and he doesn’t love me either.”

“There’s a part of me that’s hurt and jealous about this, Marley. But you’re right. I guess I am a hypocrite. You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, and I love you too.”

“And I want to be with you. It’s just—my kids need a mother. I can’t let Sasha suffer just because we don’t want to be together anymore. It’s my duty to take care of her. At least until she can find a donor. That’s why I haven’t been able to finalize the divorce.”

“I know that.”

“If I asked you to stop seeing that guy, would you?”

“Of course.”

“I love you, Marley. I want to be with you. Just you. We’ll be together when the time is right. I promise. Don’t give up on me yet.”

“I haven’t. I won’t. I promise.”

“I’d like to see you. I’m sorry I was late. My flight got rescheduled, and I should have called you. But, unfortunately, I’m at the airport again right now. I’m flying to Flagstaff, so I won’t be able to talk to you until I’m on the ground.”

“Okay. I’ll be waiting.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He disconnected, and I put my face in my lap. I almost ruined everything. I was stupid. I messed up. Chris and I should have just stayed friends. We were better as friends. I got up and went to my desk. I had to end it. It had gone on too long. We couldn’t sneak around anymore. There was no way to do this without things getting complicated.

So I wrote, “We can’t do this anymore. I’m sorry,” on a Post-It. Then I stepped outside to stick it on Chris’s door and hurried back to my apartment before he could hear me. I took the coward’s way out, but at least I did the right thing.

Or at least I thought I did.

I was wrong.