Chapter 6
6.
(In which the Great and Garrulous Bitch pointedly makes her Presence known)
We are making love, as usual. The phone rings. I assume that he will let it ring, that he will let the answering machine get it. I assume that he is in the throes of ecstasy.
"Hello?" he says, sounding only slightly disturbed.
"Hey." He responds to the high pitched timbre of a female voice on the other end. I keep moving. I keep making love.
"Yeah, well, I can't talk right now...no, don't worry about it, okay?...no, look, I'll call you tomorrow, okay...?"
He is speaking in that tone of voice, the one that is so nasty that it can only be used on those that already know that you love them. I keep moving. I keep giving pleasure.
"Fine, fine...no, I just can't talk now, now...I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay? Okay then. Bye."
He hangs up the phone in annoyance. I can tell that he wishes that we weren't making this love.
"Who was that?" I ask as I wrap my arms around his neck.
"Veronica."
"Oh."
"She said that she is going to come over for dinner tomorrow. She wants to see me."
"So am I not supposed to be here then?" I ask.
"Well, she knows that I'm seeing someone." Seeing? I thought you were in love with me. I thought that I was the most amazing thing that ever happened to you. I didn't know that you were just seeing me. I thought you were loving me.
"So, I dunno'...I guess it would be weird if you weren't here-"
"Do you want to be alone with her?" I ask, loading my question carefully.
"No. Not necessarily...I mean, it will be kind of weird to have both of you here, but I can take it...if you can."
"Why wouldn't I be able to take it?"
"I dunno-"
"You're not still in love with her, are you?" Even though I didn't even think that I wanted him in my life at first, he's mine now and I'll be damned if some blast from the past is going to ruin my happy home.
"No, I'm in love with you. I love you, Ellie."
As if either of us were convinced...
May 25-
I am doing one of the most deplorable things I have ever done. Diary, forgive me for my sins, I do them uniquely out of love.
It all began innocently enough. Ezra had left his computer on when he left today and he was still logged on to the e mail. So I read the message that was on the screen. It was an invasion of his privacy, I know, but I was curious. It seemed harmless at the time.
It was a message from Veronica. Veronica, my predecessor. The one that broke his heart. The one that he still loves, though he won't admit it. The one that I despise.
I read it, and I am now reading the back issues of her writings to him. I have been sitting here for about an hour, reading and eating a box of glazed chocolate donuts with a huge glass of milk. When the reading gets too intense, when I am literally choking on the extent of their emotion for one another, I go to the bathroom and toss a couple of the donuts. When the donuts are exorcised, I return to the computer and resume my position as witness to the cooing of the facetious and loquacious Veronica.
I enclose for you, dear diary, a sample of her writings. You must understand that as I read them, I feel betrayed (how many times has he sat beside me at his computer writing to her?). I feel completely ridiculous for trying so hard to love this man when somebody else can do it so easily and effortlessly. I feel my world shifting its frame of reference from one in which I was central to all and everything to one in which I am merely a point on a miserable continuum.
enc.
