If you told me two years ago that I would fall in love, I'd laugh at you. I wonder what my face would look like if I told myself I'd become a mistress.
A year ago I had sworn to not fall in love again. Same old cliche, my boyfriend cheated on me. I was never really in love with him and he wasn't either; but I didn't know that at the time. I was younger and felt I needed to have someone with me all the time. I was attached. He....well he wasn't.
I had everything planned, I would keep everyone at a distance. For a year I had successfully kept a distance, taken time to relearn who I was. I had started a new job at a clothing store, I needed the extra money to pay for college. There I met a guy, his name was Peter. We met and that was that.
Three months into working there, we had clicked. The graduallity of how everything came about was what got me to this point. It started with a good morning, the next week it was a hi and a smile. The next week was a how are you. The next was can you help me with this and it escalated to playful friendship, and then to flirtation. Now I'm laying next to him, my lips are sore and his hand is on my back. His deep breathes would usually put me to sleep but I can't. I can't stop thinking about her. His wife.
I don't look anything like her. She has platinum blonde hair and green eyes. I have brunette hair and brown eyes. I've met her twice. The first time I had no idea who she was, I didn't even know Peter was married. Once I learn he was, I instantly knew it was her. The second time I met her, she had come to work bringing peter lunch. That was the first time in a long time I had felt jealousy.
I had never thought I'd be one to help someone cheat, take someone's happiness but it all took me by a wave. I had fallen before I even knew what it was. My eyes wandered towards his, I was always looking for him in a crowd. The funny thing is, that every time I looked over at him his eyes were already on me. I don't know how many times I had stared into his deep blue eyes, and admired his flowing dirty blonde hair.
We were childlike. Still are. We play. We have fun. I think that's why i never thought much of it. I would be folding clothes on a table and he'd come up and push me. I'd push him back and we'd smile at each other. We tease each other. I could be weird and twirl around and he would just look at me with this smile. A smile that started haunting my thoughts. Because when he smiles at me, I smile a smile, that I didn't think I had. A smile that could last me for three days.
It then had turn to tension. Every time we talked there was no boundaries. We stood so close that we touched and we stared at each other for minutes and it was so intimate. We would make faces at each other or smile. I had never felt so close to someone. I had never craved to touch someone so much.
But that wasn't what pushed me here. Every time I look at him or I knew I was going to, my stomach and heart . Not in a bad way. But in excitement. An excitement I haven't felt since I've been a child. Every time I'm with him or talk to him I feel pure happiness. My smiles are not fake and neither is my laugh.
I remember one day I had laughed in my ridiculous manner that I always have. He stared at me and told me he loved it.
I've always been made fun of my laugh, mocked and made ashamed of it. I had learned to stop it from coming out and it was always a fake laugh. But any time I do laugh like that, he always reminds me how much he loves it. It might not seem like much, but a laugh is the sound someone makes at pure joy. For being so ridiculed for so long, having someone telling me it made them happy and they loved it. It meant the world to me.
I don't know when it actually started getting physical. One day his hand would caress my back, or I'd put my hand on his arm and then it was touches when we walked by. One day we had been in the back doing inventory and we kissed. My lips were on fire and I had never felt so much passion come out of me.
We had been playing, we were working; counting items. Then we were throwing them and laughing. I had tried to smack him and he grabbed me. I was the one to lean in. I didn't think. I hadn't looked down at this left hand, like I usually do before I do something impulsive. I just did it. I took his bottom lip between mine and I had kissed him. He didn't do anything at first, but then he was kissing me back.
I don't like to think about her. Nor do I like to think about how she gets to kiss him good morning or goodnight all the time. This is a rare occasion. He came over and it was like always. We watched a show, he made me dinner and we'd drank until we were drunk and kissing on my couch.
Don't get me wrong. But I don't regret what I'm doing. I'm happy. I'm so happy. I don't like to think about her because I know what I'm doing is wrong, but that doesn't mean I'm going to stop. Peter was very open about what was expected in this. He was very honest and I appreciate it. He was mine until he had to return home. I didn't like the idea of sharing him, but I had to live with it.
I don't know why he did this or what's going on with him and his wife but I don't care. Because when I'm with him he's different. He's happy. And so am I. I had seen him with his wife and his smile isn't the same. I'm not the only one who has seen this.
Another coworker of ours has taken it upon herself to let me know she's on to us.
"You and Peter huh?" She asked.
"What about Peter?" I asked back, turning around to ask her.
"He looks at you differently. Then Jackie." She said nodding.
"Jackie?" I asked.
"His wife. He looks at her with like he looks at you like you're a diamond. I've worked with Peter a long time but that look he gives you...." She took a breathe "that's the way my husband used to look at me."
Sarah is her name. The co-worker. I had met her husband. He had died about three months ago. I was in awe of the way he looked at her when she was not looking. Maybe she was looking some of the time.
"Belle, what are you doing awake?" Peter asked me pushing my hair back. I had been so deep in thought I hadn't heard him wake.
"Oh," I said looking up at him. "I was just thinking."
"In your own head again then?" He said looking at me. I couldn't lie, he read through me. He always did.
"Yeah." I said pulling myself closer to him.
His fingers ran down again, down my bare back and pulled the covers over us.
"Do you want to talk or do you want to just lie here?" He asked me.
"Can you just answer me a question." I breathed out. He nodded. "Do you love her?"
