He was married. He was separated. He told me right from the start he wasn’t a good bet, and I said you know, saying that doesn’t absolve you of responsibility for hurting me. We all do it once, we think it will be different for us, the thing that always turns out the same. In a bar one night he told me if it happened, he would do whatever I wanted. He would be ok with it either way.
When it did, he said it was up to me. He was in anguish with yes and also with no. He said awful things, weak things, like I have to sort things out with my wife, what if I could go do that and come back to you two later on.
He had said he would do whatever I wanted. I didn’t hear it right at the time. That he was too weak. The doctor said think about it, call me anytime. What I thought about was the two of us without him, without anyone, and it terrified me. I decided like I always do. On a dime, and in need of quick resolution. I left my desk. I called him. I took the subway downtown. He came home with me and held my hair while I threw up from the pain.
We don’t talk anymore. He passes me in hallways and looks the other way in shame.
I have a daughter now. I try not to think about the other one.