melody_xxxx

REACHING A CROSSROADS by Melody

It was my own doing; my fault that I was in this mess. Why I deluded myself into thinking, that having an affair with a married man would not be complicated, I don't know. Eight months down the line, I had reached a crossroads. With a heavy heart, I had called him, and told him that it was over. He had been shocked, asking me to reconsider. That was when I told him: I'm in love with you. This has to stop, NOW. Without giving him the opportunity to argue, I put the phone down. To ensure that he couldn't call me, I contacted the telephone company, and, instructed them to block his number. If he contacted me, I would succumb, and I couldn't afford to; emotionally, that is.

He had been honest with me from the start. Our relationship, such as it was, was only fun; he loved his wife. Initially that hadn't been a problem for me, I wasn't after else, and certainly nothing heavy, or, involving commitment. Strange how things change, isn't it? A month after breaking contact with him, I still break down on hearing songs, or think of him. The pain runs as deeply through me, as on the day that I told him. Throughout my home, I have reminders of him; little keepsakes that he had given me. Strangely, I can't bear to dispose of them, although I know that I should.   He had left a t-shirt here, and, after these four long weeks, I was still able to smell him on it.

I hate having to admit that, that t-shirt, has a tendency to make me happy, rather than sad. It makes me smile, recalling how he had worn that same t-shirt on the night we started our affair, on one cold, snow covered night in February. We had met each other several times over the years, at various television studios, radio stations and award ceremonies, and had always enjoyed a laugh, and a bit of a chat. That night, the air was charged. We couldn't stop touching one another, and, we kept whispering. We where that close! It was during that flirtatious whispering, that he had asked me, and I, after a few minutes hesitation, (I do have a conscience, believe it or not), told him, yes. Alcohol was not responsible for any of it. He had only had one glass wine all night, and I, well, I was driving, so hadn't had any alcohol. What we were high on, was simple euphoria; that's what winning awards does for you! He and his band, had won three for their record company. My record company had won seven, with three different artists. We all try and tell ourselves that awards don't matter, but, when you're there and have been nominated, there is a feverish expectancy that takes over. It's nigh on impossible NOT to get caught up in the hullabaloo and frenzy.

Anyway, I digress.

I live about nine miles from where the awards took place, whereas he lives almost seventy miles away, and had arranged for a taxi to take him home. Now, by this time, we had already agreed, or, should I say, I had accepted his proposal for us to have an affair,so, as bold as you like, I invited him to stay the night with me. He mentioned about his wife expecting him home: Tell her the roads are too treacherous. It has been snowing heavily.
In a flash, he had his mobile phone out, and was calling her to let her know. I may have to stay here tomorrow night as well love, he cooed, I'll let you know how things are tomorrow lunchtime; I ought to know by then.

Had it been warmer, I have a sneaky suspicion that we would have shagged one another in my car, right there in the bloody car park! However, the car had been covered in a good two inches of snow, and the inside was freezing. A few miles up the road, the car now toasty and warm, but I didn't want to pull up and do it at the roadside. I wanted to get home, to my nice warm house, and go from room to room, making love to him. That way, it would be our randiness that dictated how quick we would be, rather than the freezing cold weather.

He was wearing the t-shirt, (a plain beige one), under an aquamarine coloured silk shirt, to provide him with a little extra warmth. The t-shirt never made it back to his house, and, he never did tell me the excuse he used to his wife, to cover up its mysterious disappearance. For the two nights that he was with me, we worked our way around each and every room in the house, to make love. My utility room isn't especially spacious, add baskets of laundry, (some to be washed, some for ironing), and it shrinks further still. In amongst all of that clutter and chaos, we had a rather frenzied, and breathless quickie. Walking into to that utility room now, is still guaranteed to put a smug smile on my face.

Relationships are rarely easy, but, at least you have friends and family to console you. The cessation of an affair is horrendous. None of your friends know of the relationship in the first place, so how can they provide a shoulder to cry on? Only two people knew of our affair; his manager, and one of his band mates.   They had always been friendly and respectful to me, although still disapproving, and who could blame them?

It had never ceased to amaze me that we were able to spend so much time together, and to get away for a week long break, a couple of times. How we weren't exposed, was something of a minor miracle. My feelings for him escalated, the more I got to know him and spend time with him. The pangs of guilt didn't leave; they just got less frequent.

During those months that we were seeing each other, it was always me that picked him up, (near his home, or from the studio), and then took him back later. He never sent me flowers, or posted me a card, he always gave them to me personally. His not being able to drive had driven me nuts when we were having our affair, now though, it was a relief. How could he ask someone to take him to see his ex-mistress? If he did that, he was risking losing his wife.

Of course it was unavoidable, given our careers, that at some point, we would bump into each other. It was a case of when, not if. With any luck that meeting would happen when I had gotten him out of my system. Poppycock! Who am I trying to fool here? He will never be out of my thoughts, or out of my heart.   There was never going to be a right time to see him again, because the pain of our split, and of our lost love, would always be there.

“Who can that be?” The sound of a car pulling into my driveway, followed by a knock at the door, came as a surprise. Whoever it was, was disturbing my reminiscences. “I didn't expect to see you. You had better come in.” It was James.
“How are you doing Cas?”
“You're not here to talk about my health James.” Away from the stage, James was not the most confident of men, but I was struck by how awkward he was.
“Do you really love Nicky?”
“I think that I'm going to need a drink,” I told him. “Come through to the kitchen, I'll make you a coffee while I have a brandy.”

I was purposely delaying him from speaking, to give me an opportunity to put on my invisible protective armour,and, to allow me the chance to think of something to say when he got angry with me.   The last thing I needed was him saying: I didn't approve, but you didn't have to be so bloody abrupt when you ended it.

“Cas, stop fucking about! Do you love Nicky?”
“Yes.”
“Do you miss him?”
“What do you think?”
James' right hand went to his back trouser pocket. “Do you remember how happy you were, on the night that this was taken?”
I took it from him and studied it, tears instantly welling in my eyes. It was a picture, taken by James, at the recording studio. I was sat on Nicky's lap, and we were cuddling and giggling. James had caught us without us knowing. The memories of that day, broke my reserve, and I was sobbing.
“I miss him James.”
“Nicky misses you too.” James' strong arms were guiding me against him, and I happily submitted; I needed a cuddle and some comfort right now.
“It's better this way though James.”

“Who are you trying to convince Cas?” He was lifting my chin, and making me look directly at him. “Nicky has left Rachel.”
“No...” I must have misheard.
“He's in love with you.”
“I can't...”
“He tried calling you...”
“I blocked his number.” Nicky had been trying to call me, and I had blocked him!
“I went to see him this afternoon,” James sighed. “He's in a mess; emotionally, that is. I was comforting him like I'm comforting you now.”
“He told me that he would never leave her; he loved her. Not once did he give me any indication that our tryst was more than a bit of fun. That's why I had to end it, when I fell in love with him.”
“The way he tells it, you didn't give him much opportunity to say anything. He spent twenty minutes trying to ring you, but your phone was constantly engaged. Then, Rachel got back home, and, he couldn't try any more.”

Now I was regretting terminating that call! Hindsight is a wonderful thing. “It's true; I did hang up on him.”
“Will you meet with him?”
“Is that what he wants?”
“He's in my car now,” James told me, with a big smile. “I'll go and get him. Oh, and just to let you know, I'm going home now; the rest is up to you.”
“Thank you!” I kissed his cheek. “Why have you done this? You never approved James.”
“Who am I to deny two people who are in love with each other?”

My heart was beating nineteen to the dozen. This, was more than I had dared dream of; Nicky loved me! He was here, ready to see me! His soft voice made me jump.
“Cas...”
“Nicky...” My stomach was invaded by butterflies, as I watched, the love of my life, walk toward me.
“Sorry for the intrusion.”
“Is what James said really true? I never thought...not you and Rachel.”
He was uneasy, squirming around. “How could I stay with her, when I'm in love with you?”
With a shaking hand, I reached out, taking his left hand in mine. “I need you to be sure about this Nicky. If you have the slightest doubt, go back to her.”
“Oh Cas,” he sighed, playing with my fingers. “I'm certain. I knew I was in love with you before you broke it off.”
“Why didn't you say anything when we were together?”
He rolled his eyes, and gave a heavy sigh. “I don't know. Oh Cas, I wanted to, so many times. I told James, and you know what? He was really understanding. He listened to what I said, and he wasn't in the least bit judgemental. He also said that he believed that your emotions were deeper than you were telling me.”

“He got that right,” I said wistfully. “When was this little chat of yours?”
“A couple of weeks before that call,” he said with a wry smile. He moved his body against mine, and, instinctively, we held each other. “I should have taken James' advice. He told me, if I was truly in love with you, to have the guts to tell you, and to leave Rachel.”
“You didn't know how to tell her? Or, didn't you want to hurt her?”
“Both; I lost you by being a coward.”
“You had a marriage at stake, Nicky. What if you had left Rachel, told me how you felt, only for me have said that I wasn't interested? I can see it from your point of view as well.”

“How could I stay with her and be in love with you? Even if you had told me to get lost, it wouldn't have been fair to her.”
“Did you tell her everything?”
“Yes,” he nodded, and I felt his lips on my forehead. “She deserved that much; I've done enough lying.”
“Are you positive that you want us to try again, Nick? I need you to be sure; this is going to get sticky when the press hear of it.”
“I think,” he said, with a half smile, “that I should be the one asking YOU that question! You are 'the other woman' in all of this. Are you ready for that Cas?”
“Nicky, I love you; I want to be with you.”
His strong arms, held me tightly against his body, me head rested on his chest. “I promise you Cas, I will never leave you, and, I'll never hurt you again. I love you so very much.”
I cupped his face in my hands. “It's good to have you back.”
“Thank you for taking me back.”
I gave him a broad smile, and a kiss on the lips. “James has gone, so, I guess that means that you'll be staying?”
“I did leave an overnight bag near the door.”
“We'd better take that upstairs then,” I winked.

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