Ashes (noun): ruins, especially the residue of something destroyed; remains.

I held his phone, looking at it, shaking my head. In one hour, one hour, I found out all of it … and then some. And all because she happened to text at the exact moment I walked past his phone. “You know,” I said, looking at him with him with my head tilted, “You’ve left your phone at my house a million times. I remember. You’d roll off of me, get dressed and leave for work, forgetting your phone. And I’m talking way back, from our first year all the way up to a few months ago … ” “Shannon,” he interrupted, “No, you can shut up. You get to listen to me. It’s the least you can do. And then you can shave your balls again, put on your stupid suit, fill up your wallet and hurry down to Atlantic City because your showgirl is waiting to feed you more of her stale crumbs, that probably fell out of someone else’s mouth. Don’t worry, this won’t take long.” I tossed his phone on the coffee table. “Ugh, I probably need an antibiotic and Purell just for having second hand contact with those gross whores,” I said. He shook his head.

” … and all that time,” I continued, ” … every single time you left your phone on my bed stand and left for work, I never ever looked at it. Obviously, or we would’ve been over with years ago. I never one time looked at it. Why? Because I was soooo in love with you. ‘Oh, he would never lie to me! Oh, he would never cheat on me. He said he was an Alpha and Alpha’s don’t need to lower themselves to cheat.” “Shannon, it’s all over. She and I are over.” He said. “Over? Like ‘Shannon’ over? Like soul crushing abandonment ‘over’? Like that? Because … funny … your last text to your showgirl was that you’ll always love her, that you can’t shake your sadness … and … let me see,” I said, furrowing my eyebrows and scratching my chin, “your last text to me when it was ‘over’ was a little different. Yeah, you said to me, ‘You’re poor, you live paycheck to paycheck, I don’t want you anymore, go fuck yourself, leave me alone, go away.’ Yeah, I think that’s how it went.”

“That’s not what I said. I would never hurt you like that.” I burst out laughing in the middle of my tears, chin shaking, tears dripping down my face, and he just held my gaze, with a very sad look in his eyes. “You wouldn’t hurt me like that? You did hurt me like that. And when I texted you, you ignored me. And when I called, you ignored me. And when I told you I wanted to die, you ignored me.” He exhaled and stood to his feet, lacing his fingers and placing them on his head, looking me right in the eyes. “But when your showgirl showed any signs of insecurity or sadness over you, you bent over backwards to comfort her and love her,” fresh tears ran down my face, “and tell her she’s beautiful and that she matters to you and that you waited your whole life to find someone like her…” My voice trailed off as I tried to contain my suppressed emotion. “What does she have that I don’t?” I stopped and held his gaze before I continued. “I would die for you. I worshiped you. And you told her that you waited your whole life to find someone like her?” He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “Never one time did you say anything to me like you said to her. No ‘I miss you’, no ‘I would never hurt you’, no ‘I am so sad without you’.” “Shannon,” he interrupted. “No,” I kept going. “Your last text to her was soaked with feeling. I mean honest to God, with you telling her that even though she ‘chooses to ignore your texts’, you will always love her,” I shrugged and wiped my tears with the back of my hand. “That’s not you being ‘over’ it or her, that’s you acknowledging she dumped you, and you trying to find a crack in her armor to squeeze through! You were groveling. You don’t grovel. That’s not you. Nothing I read tonight on that phone was you. What happened to you?”

He dropped his arms at his side and shook his head, just looking at me. “I don’t know what to say.” I walked into the kitchen to get a paper towel to dry my face, because I just couldn’t contain it. Stop it. Get it together! “You asked me to come over tonight,” I said. “Yes, I wanted to see you. I wanted to be with you,” he replied. “But … but,” and I pressed the paper towel against my eyes as I gulped back a jagged sob, my shoulders shaking, ” … but you texted her how much you loved her. Your last text to her told her how much you missed her, how you love her and will always love her,” and I finished with air-quotes, ” … ‘whether you like it or not, I will always love you’…” He put his hands on his hips and exhaled, turning his head to look away from me. ” … so, why did you have me over tonight? I mean, if you texted her, begging her to give you guys another chance,” “I wasn’t begging,” he interrupted. “YOU FUCKING WERE!“ I shouted, my hands balled into fists. “Stop lying to me!” My heart was pumping and my chin was shaking and my whole body was vibrating. “How long has this been going on? No bullshit lie answer, how long? Was she here first and I’m the side chick? Huh? Am I the other woman?” “No, Shannon. Neither of you are ‘side chicks’. I was with you and I met her and … ” “And what?” I asked. “And you decided you wanted to fuck a showgirl? What …what is it … is it how much money she makes? Is that it? Is it her ‘perfect body’ that you gushed all over? You didn’t mind my stretch marks when you wanted a blow job, I notice. Or when you wanted your boat scrubbed or your house cleaned or extra hands on a job you were behind with. Do you ask her to grout tile for you? Paint? Lay pavers? Hmm? Would she do those things?” He rubbed his face and groaned into his hands. “Does she serve you absolutely BEAUTIFUL plates and make you pitchers of iced coffee with frosted glasses? Does she??” “No, he whispered. “That’s all you. That’s exclusively Shannon.”

I squinted my eyes at him, shaking my head. “You said my life was too complicated, that you needed your life back … but She has a kid … a toddler!! Do you have any idea how much work and responsibility a toddler is? Do you? I see she’s a single mother, but ohhhh that’s ok! MY life is too complicated for you, but a single mother SHOWGIRL is better, because she doesn’t have stretch marks or work 3 jobs or have to fight for custody … and she has family here and doesn’t ‘need you’ like I do. She’s a REAL woman, right?? And she’s tiny and smooth with a perfect ass and lots of skanky friends to offer to your loser buddies who all cheat on their wives … and she’s a professional dancer and shakes her ass on stage for men to eye fuck all night. Seriously … you’re okay with your girlfriend gyrating mostly naked on stage every night?? For strangers? Oh, silly me, of course you are. You used to be one of those men. And when you were the highest bidder, you’d take her upstairs in the Trump hotel and text me that you were stuck at your mother’s for the rest of the weekend. That’s right. Yeah … your girlfriend dirty dancing all night for horny businessmen is ok as long as she goes upstairs afterwards with you. THAT’S easier to deal with than me. Can’t wait for her to meet mom. Please let me be there for that.”

I walked over to his couch and got my purse and shoved my phone in it. “Where are my shoes?” I mumbled. I turned around to look at him, shaking my head, chuckling at my next thought. “No wonder you were always dressing up before you left me, wearing a suit every chance you got, driving the Mercedes to Atlantic City, doing anything you could to impress her so you can keep her. Well, Baby, it looks like she lost interest, didn’t she. Did she lose interest when she went out for dinner with your best friend? And then again, taking her mom and kid, too? They got to meet your best friend! … I wonder why she wanted mom to meet him. Hhmmm … Yeah, I saw that text. Such a loyal girlfriend. I bet she was impressed that he owns two restaurants and is a high roller at the Borgata, and carries around thousands of dollars in cash. … well, then again, he did have her first. Yeah, I read that, too. So she was just going back and forth between her two cash sources … but she said she loves you. Ouch. It hurt you, didn’t it? Good. Well, it didn’t hurt as much as being dumped for being poor.”

I stood looking at him, and his face had changed. He was mad. I struck a nerve.

“Ohh, I’m sorry. Am I mixed up? Is she the showgirl or the ‘bitch wife of your client’ that you used to say you ‘couldn’t stand’ when I’d see her name on your phone in the middle of the night.” I smiled and raised my eyebrows, clapping, “That was good, by the way. Bravo. You kept her on the side for a long time under the guise of her being a ‘pain in the ass’ client’s wife’. I bought it,” I said, nodding my head, “I did. Hook line and sinker. … Yeah, she’s been around a long time. And I’m the dumbest women to walk the earth.”

I walked away from him, but then turned around. “No, I’m not dumb,” I said, dissolving into tears, “You tricked me.” I took a long jagged breath and sobbed it back out. “You took advantage of my trust and you rode the wave until she got close enough to capture. You finally caught her and held her close and loved her and then you wadded me up and threw me away. Didn’t you?” He walked toward me slowly, stopping. “No,” he whispered. “You have this all wrong, Shannon.” I stood there, shoulders slumped, hanging my head, my face scrunched up, my eyes squeezed shut. “Why did you have me here tonight, if you were waiting for her to answer you? Did you make love to me tonight and think of her?” “Shannon, please stop,” “Did you? Is that why you were so passionate tonight? Because you were thinking of her?” “I was so passionate tonight,” he said, as he moved my hair off of my shoulder, ” … because I was with you. I missed you. I always miss you.” Oh God, did I want to believe him. I just wanted to fall into his arms and have him hold me and tell me it’s all over. But I couldn’t. I looked up at him, sniffing and wiping my wet face with my bare hands. “You lied to me,” I whispered. He stood silently and took a deep breath, and held it, just looking into my eyes. I kept looking at him, my face contorted with unspent emotion. And then it broke free. “You lied to me!” I took a deep breath and shook my head at him. “ … YOU LIED TO ME!” Bending over at the waist, my hands balled up against my chest, I screamed it out. “YOU BROKE MY HEART! YOU LEFT ME FOR A WOMAN AND LET ME THINK IT WAS BECAUSE … ” I covered my face with my hands and sobbed, unabashedly and shamelessly. “You didn’t even say goodbye to me,” I whispered, “You dumped me over … over text. 3 years later, and I … I get dumped over text. I thought I would die.” I said, my voice halting and breaking, tears streaking red lines down my cheeks. “But you chased this woman. You told her you love her 3 days ago in your text. You told her you ‘rearranged your life’ to make room for her. Rearranging your life meaning removing obstacles … you … you meant me.” I looked at him and held his gaze, crying in hiccuping gulps. “YOU MEANT ME!” I shrieked, hitting myself in the chest, hard, weeping.

“Shannon, listen to me. Listen to me.” He said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do except say I’m sorry. But FUCK, Shannon, this is a little unfair, don’t you think?” I looked up at him, incredulously. “Unfair?” I said. “Shannon, I have done more for you than any woman I have ever had in my entire life. Bar none. YOU KNOW THIS. I take care of you. I help you. I’ve loaned you money … loaned … no, GIVEN you money. I’ve taken you places, I’ve shared my WHOLE FUCKING LIFE with you. Yeah, I met someone else. Ok? People change. I didn’t want to be with you anymore. It happens every FUCKING day, all over the world.” I looked at him with my mouth open, wondering where he was heading. “But don’t stand here and FUCKING make me feel like I do sooo much for her and have done nothing for you. Because that’s ridiculous. You exhausted me, Shannon.” ” … what are you talking about? Why did you not tell me this?” “I tried to tell you, I’ve tried to help you, I’ve tried to get you on your feet,” “On my feet? I am on my feet!” I stared at him. “You’re making this up. You STILL won’t admit that you just didn’t have the balls to tell me the truth, so you let me think it was because I was poor.” He raised his eyebrows and nodded his head. “Ok, Ok. You want the truth? Do you?” I tilted my head and crossed my arms. “Yeah, I do. Not that you’re capable of it.” “Ok, Shannon, here’s the truth.”

He leaned his face forward as he raised his voice. “I MET HER. I WANTED HER. AND I STARTED BANGING HER. I WAS BANGING A YOUNGER, HOTTER CHICK, SO I LEFT. ”

My eyes welled and I stood there completely still, silent, demolished. That hurt, I think, more than anything could have. He took a shaky breath and exhaled, running his hands through his hair. I very quietly said, ” … and that’s why you did so much for me. You had her the whole time, behind my back, and helping me the way you did was the only way you could ease your conscience.” He looked at the floor. “But I’d say I worked a lot of that off. I have always helped you, too. Always. With anything you need. And I loved you with an honesty and admiration and whole hearted worship that you have never had before, and never will again.” “I know,” he whispered. “But,” I said, “I’m not a younger, hotter chick.” I sat down on the coffee table and slipped my shoes on with shaking hands, tears dripping. I stood up, slid my coat on and picked up my purse. “You lied to me. … thank God I looked at your phone. Thank God she texted right as I walked by. Boy, you can’t make that up. The timing! Because if that hadn’t happened, you could keep sneaking behind my back for the rest of our lives. And you would.”

I walked toward the door, my heart feeling like a heavy lead ball in the center of my chest, my throat tightening up with unshed tears. I opened the door and looked over my shoulder at him. I shook my head. “Better answer her,” I said. “She’s waiting. I know you’re dying to.” He shook his head at me. “Shannon,” he said. “No,” I answered. “You’re free. Go to her. Be happy. The truth is out. So go.” I walked down the steps and along the dark walkway to my car. I pressed the button on my key fob and my headlights blinked, the interior light glowed softly and the door clicked unlocked. I got in my car and started the engine, and slowly pulled out of his driveway. Once I passed the stop sign at the end of his street, the tears exploded out of me and I leaned over the steering wheel, sobbing from the very bottom of my heart. I could hardly see but all I wanted to was to go home. And as I wept, emptying my heart, I heard the bright harp strum from my purse. He was texting me, and I cried harder at just the reminder of him. I couldn’t do it. Not for one more minute. My phone rang. I pulled it from my purse. It was him. He called and called but I didn’t have the strength to answer. He texted. “I’m so sorry” “Are you okay?” “I never told you because I didn’t want to hurt you,” he wrote. I slid the phone under my seat, unable to take any more. I wiped tears with the back of my hand as they tumbled down my face, listening to the harp strum all the way home.

To be continued …