The Opposite Face

It was the slamming of the car door that woke me.

I flipped over, and felt his side of the bed; ice cold. My hand grazed where his chest should’ve been, but was met only by mattress. I heard voices coming from the driveway, so I hastily got to my feet and sped to the window. Looking out at the darkened street, a few lights dotted around, it wasn’t easy to make a clear image of the world. It was easy enough to see him with her in a close embrace though. I suppose they thought they were safe, in the dead of night. No one around, low visibility, it was the perfect opportunity to sneak a kiss. Little did he know, I was watching from his bedroom. My being here was a surprise, so who’s to blame? Me? For not noticing the signs, until now. Truth be told, I never trusted her. ‘Work Friend’, my ass. 

I flicked the lamp on, knowing they would see. Sure enough, they both turn to face the window, as it’s one of the only sources of light in the street. He spots me, and pushes her away from him. Too late, buddy. 

I’m waiting downstairs for him when he comes stumbling in. I can already smell the whisky on his breath. 

“I saw you” I say, trying my best to sound strong despite my hand shaking by my side. My stomach is sick, doing jumps and somersaults without any hope of control. “I saw you, with her” and the vision plays over and over again in my head. Her stupid, blonde curls and perfect, red lips interlocking with his. His face crumples up, playing the confused card. “What?” he asks, “What do you mean?”

There’s no use in pretending, I’ve got you.

What follows is a slow-paced argument, on account of his slurred words and unstable balance. He eventually takes refuge against the doorframe, as I refuse to let him any further into the house. This is now my space, and he’s not invading it any further. 

“Do you really think I would cheat on you?” he asks, taking a step towards me. I counter this and move backwards. He outstretches his hand, and for a second I consider taking it. It still looks like how it did five hours ago when I said goodbye. The signature signet ring could still be seen, a present from years ago. Then it hit me. Five hours ago I said goodbye to him. Five hours. Is that all it took to replace me? To forget and stick your tongue down that sluts throat? My mind begins to wander, at what point in the evening did they toss me aside and make that decision? Had they made it through their first drink, or was the mere scent of alcohol all it took for the last three years together to become a distant memory? This only amplified my stomach’s attempts to perfect the somersault. 

“Get out” I manage to murmur, somewhat pathetically. I wish I could sound stronger in this moment, but that was the best I could do. “I don’t want you here, I don’t care where you go, but it’s not here”, and I turn around and walk into the kitchen. I figure that was a power move, but I didn’t know what the correct thing to do was. I hadn’t been in this situation before. From the front room, I can hear him taking deep breaths and making an attempted shuffle to the staircase. A small part of me wants to help, because he won’t make it up the stairs anytime soon. I want him out of my house. To my distaste, however, he doesn’t go upstairs. Instead, he appears in the doorway to the kitchen.

“Babe, can we talk?” he says. The word just doesn’t suit his mouth anymore...babe. I am no longer his anything, and he has no right to say that. He made that decision tonight, that’s for sure. I try to ignore him, but his drunken attitude makes it hard to read body language or room tone, so before I can stop him, his hands are on my shoulders. I can feel his hands, the smooth texture of his palms against my bare shoulders. “It was an accident, and I’m sorry. I pushed her away” and he leant into my neck and placed a gentle kiss on my skin. I let him in, I wanted to believe his words. I wanted to be the type of partner who could forgive and move on, to be a shining example of true love. True love, hah. 

I spun around to face him, and I looked him properly in the eyes since he arrived. There was sorrow in them, genuine sorrow. I didn’t know how to react, because he looked like someone who knew he had fucked up. I wish I had the answers, or the correct thing to do, but I didn’t. “You pushed her away?” I asked, wanting him to elaborate. I knew what I had seen, but I wanted him to hear it. 

“She...leant in and kissed me, and for a second, sure I kissed her back, but then I pushed her away because of you” he tilted his head, trying to convince me. I knew what he was saying was true, because I had seen him do exactly that. I nodded my head, accepting this for now. We would continue this discussion in the morning.

Once in bed, I felt uneasy next to him. He had already passed out, leaving me alone with my thoughts, and they were flooding the room. I could feel his warmth, and it was comforting, but the image from the window had stuck in my mind. I tried to shake it from my head, but it wasn’t working. Suddenly, the room lit up a little, followed by a distinct BUZZ.

My phone had received a text from the bedside table.

BUZZ.

It went off again. Looking at it, I already knew who it was. The message simply read 

Too bad you couldn’t come over tonight. Perhaps tomorrow? ;) x

I flipped the phone face-down.