It is the anniversary of the day that I caught B. cheating.
I can recall it as though it were yesterday.
My discovery happened around 1030am on a weekday morning. I believe it was a Wednesday?
I was checking my email like I would any other day. On that particular morning, I was in a super good mood because I realized it was Cinco de Mayo! I fantasized dancing, drinking margaritas, and and dressing up. How perfect for a date-night! I was about to send a short email to B. to tell him about this spontaneous plan of mine! As I contemplated what to write, an email notification popped up from him. It was an email entitled "Re: Re:" which was strange because I hadn't emailed him to get a reply email... But I clicked anyways! Why wouldn't I?
And so it began: strands of emails between B. and some woman who he had met for less than 72 hours at a conference a few weeks ago. B. tells her he's in love with her and that he wants to give her citizenship papers so they can live in the same country together (apparently, she's not living in the U.S). He is pining over her and using pet names all over the email. He calls her his "dream" and says he lives purely for her. Below, in a separate email strand, she responds with the same passion. She has told her family all about him and they can't wait to meet him. She is so excited to start life together with him. She also dreams of him and agrees that life has no meaning without him. Both express similar sentiments that they can barely breathe without the other person.
I read.
I re-read.
I read some more because I can't believe my eyes.
I am so confused.
Throughout B.'s emails, I see pet names that are exclusively for me because they are based on my native language. Those are terms that we created together because he was fascinated by words and sounds of my language. But the email was not meant for me, so how does that make any sense? My head is spinning but I can't stop. I keep reading and re-reading. I read so many times that everything is reeling and I can no longer make sense of the words I'm seeing. My friend Mary is on gchat and I tell her to come over to my office ASAP. She's shell-shocked but calm. She forces me to have lunch because it's noontime now and I have to stop crying. We walk off-campus to a busy, crowded restaurant and for the first time in my life, I have no appetite, zero. I am hysterical inside but she is calm. I watch her eat, surprised that anyone can be so nonchalant when my entire world feels like it is crumbling.
Post-lunch, I return to my office with some calmness. I manage to get some work done. I am more rational now and see that B. has sent me a text like he normally does. I think hard, and then I act. I text him to tell him to come to my office. He arrives and appears like his normal, typical self. All smiles. I act as normal as I can without having to touch him or make much eye contact. I have to fake calmness for as long as I can. I invite him to sit down and I ask if he has anything to share with me. "No. Why?"
Next, I invite him to my office desk and ask the same question. Again, no.
I open-up my email and have him read the email he sent me that morning.
What do you say now, bitch?!
The blood drains from his face and he swallows hard. He takes off his glasses and looks down. When he looks up, his expression is unreadable. There is no more warmth now, there is also no fear. There is a wall up. He is officially defensive and will offer nothing other than one or two worded answers.
"Sorry", "But I love you", "I don't know".
"Why?" I ask.
"How could you do this to me?" I lament.
These are questions that have no answers but I can't stop myself from asking. He gives nothing away. Silence. I cry. He cries. It's over. I kick him out because I have an client now. It's 2 hours later and he's wasted enough of my time. Get out. Get out now. Get out of my office, get out of my life, because we're done. We. Are. Done.
That night and for the next 2 days, my best girlfriends come over and sleep-over. They are on suicide-watch and they make sure I never have to be alone. I don't party that night. I don't drink. I don't dress up. There is nothing worthy of celebrating. He has officially ruined Cinco de Mayo and he continues to ruin it for me for years to come.
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