After circling the kitchen and throwing several dishes at Jonathan, I ended up back by the sink. Trying to control my breathing, I leaned my back against the counter looking at the floor.
Fucking Jackie
Jonathan was standing on the other side by the kitchen table with his head down. I could see the shame he felt. After several attempts of trying to hit him in the head with the dishes, his hair became even more disheveled and the tie he was wearing was even more lopsided. I succeeded twice, once with a second attempt with a ladle which only made his forehead slightly red and another with a fork. He was lucky I didn't pierce any skin.
The pain was starting to be replaced by rage as I thought more about that woman being in my home. The more I thought about how many times she could have been around Paige without my knowledge, the more livid I became.
"How long?" I managed to get out.
I noticed Jonathan shut his eyes when I asked. Like he was dreading having to say the answer.
It couldn't have been that long.
He wasn't answering and I was becoming impatient. Something was telling me that knowing the answer was going to be worse than not knowing. I felt it when I asked for her name and I felt it a few nights ago when I needed him to confirm that he was cheating. The churning in my gut only got worse as I waited in suspense.
"How. Long?" Making sure my voice was strong and stern.
He lifted his head and opened his eyes. They were red and tears were at the brim. I was shaking my head at him, letting him know that I didn't care if he started crying. I'm not the one that fucked up.
"About a year." His voice cracked as he pushed out his answer. The churning in my gut only got worse from here and the tightness in my chest returned like it never left. My anger was keeping it dormant and it was back to swallow me whole. The rage was subsiding because what was stronger was my need to shatter. I felt the tears swelling up again. I wanted to fall on the kitchen floor and break, scream at the top of my lungs, burn every piece of furniture, and cry till I couldn't feel anything anymore. My eyes wouldn't leave his and it only made the pain worse.
A year? I was blind for a year?
After a few ragged breaths I was finally able to speak, "For a year you pretended to love me." It wasn't a question, after what he said to me, it was a fact.
"No, I didn't."
"Then explain it to me, Jonathan," A rogue tear left my eye but I was quick to wipe it away, "how can you have an affair for a year and come home to me like nothing. Fuck me like nothing." I was tired of being lied to.
"I wasn't thinking—"
"No shit!", he flinched at how loud I got. All the lies that my mind had to endure, having to process what was real and what wasn't was becoming all too much. "You had the audacity to allow this woman around our daughter and enter this house. How many times did you laugh behind my back after I was so nice to her, welcoming her and telling her how amazing she must be at her job, complimenting her? When really I was complimenting her talents on being a world class homewrecker!"
Jonathan was furiously shaking his head as some tears came down his face, "Martha, baby—"
"Don't! You don't get to call me that anymore!" Now every time I heard him call me 'baby', I wondered how many times he called her that. Did he say it when he was fucking her in his office? Or would they go back to her place? Did it come out strangled while he was buried deep inside of her because he was so close? Were they on top of his desk with his face buried in her neck as he spoke, "Yes baby," because the sensations were just too good?
His continuously pleading broke my imagination from torture, "I swear nothing like that happened...baby please." I visibly flinched at that name again.
Did she call him that? "Fuck Jonathan, baby, I'm so close!"
"I need you to leave," I blurted out.
I didn't know what I wanted, all I knew was what I was feeling at that moment. I was feeling the pain of betrayal and deceit, Jonathan was causing it, and I needed him to be as far away from me as possible.
"Wait what?" he sounded hurt.
"I can't be near you anymore, not like this." It was true, I felt like at any moment I was going to vomit because of all the images that were coming to my mind.
"Martha please."
I closed my eyes, not wanting to look at his intoxicating ones anymore, but what replaced them were images of them fucking in his office. "No, get the hell out of my house."
"We aren't done talking about this." I heard him starting to take a step forward. Immediately my hand went up in front of me, stopping him.
"And while we figure this out you think I'm going to sleep in the same bed as you," I opened my eyes trying to keep strong and my tears at bay "Wake up to see your face every day?"
More tears flowed down his face by how repulsed I was by him. I didn't care, this was his fault. All I felt was that my marriage was a sham. That he never loved me.
He took another step but I pressed further, "So you need to leave...now."
Jonathan stopped and stared at me with his lips pressed into a thin line. It felt like forever until he finally said, "I'll get my stuff." It was barely a whisper but I heard it.
He walked out of the kitchen without looking back. The lump in my throat stayed there, I was frozen in place. I refused to go anywhere as I heard movement upstairs, the sound of drawers and closet doors opening and closing could be heard through the walls. Footsteps were coming down the stairs and my way again but I didn't dare look up. I couldn't see his face again.. All my barriers started crumbling as I heard his footsteps walking closer to me.
Please just go. Please just go.
The back door opened, "I'm just saying goodbye to Paige, I'll leave through the driveway."
The door shutting was like breaking the seal to my pain. A shaky breath left me and I slid to the floor unable to contain it. Fresh warm tears came and coated my cheeks, I felt like I couldn't breathe. It felt like the world had just ripped the rug from under me and it was about to swallow me whole. I wanted to welcome it with open arms, to let it do it's worst, because I couldn't imagine the aching pain ever feeling worse than this. The back door opened abruptly and I was engulfed in warm arms. The scent of fresh mint was making me break down harder; I never wanted Ryan to let me go.