After a quick shower, Cat slipped on a pair of sweatpants and a cami, wrapped her wet hair in a bun on the top of her head, and dragged her body to the kitchen. Time to face the world.
Riley and Lori were already seated at the kitchen table, sipping coffee.
“Hi, sweetie.” They both stood and wrapped her in a big hug. “How are you doing?”
“Lousy,” she exhaled, “but I guess it’s better that I know now, not after we got married.”
“That’s right,” Riley nodded.
“I filled them in on what we need to do.” Celeste joined the group at the table.
Cat looked down at her wedding binder. All her notes, guest list, contact information for the florist, caterer, church, reception hall, all of it was inside.
Celeste took her hand. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Cat slumped into an empty chair, letting a few tears flow. She was among her close friends.
Lori handed her a tissue.
“I don’t see how I can trust him again. I feel so… so destroyed. How is it a man can have that much power over me? I believed in him, in us. I gave him everything. I thought I was getting everything in return. Turns out I was just sharing him.” More tears streamed down her cheeks. “And I feel embarrassed.” She waved a hand over her year of work on planning for what she’d hoped would be the event of her life. “Now I get to make it public that I’ve been jilted.”
“Oh, sweetie. Give it time. Don’t think about all of this,” Celeste implored. “We’ll take care of it.”
“How do you want to handle Jack?” Riley cupped a hand over hers.
She stared down at her phone. “I’m gonna call him.”
“Okay. We’ll take care of this,” Celeste tapped her binder, “while you do that.”
“Then we’ll order in lunch and watch a comedy. How does that sound?” Lori smiled meekly.
“’Kay. Thank you all for helping me. I don’t know what I would do without my girls.”
Celeste hugged her when she stood up. With her phone in hand, Cat went to her bedroom and closed the door.
With a deep breath, she pushed past the boulder in her gut, wiped her eyes, and made the call.
“Oh God, you’re alright. I was so worried.” Jack’s voice sounded rough and tired. Serves him right. And if he was so damn worried, why didn’t he come over?
“Jack—”
“Wait, before you start. Let me say how sorry I am. It was a moment of weakness, and I promise you, it will never happen again.”
He sounded sincere, but was he sorry for cheating or sorry for getting caught?
She willed herself to be calm, even though her insides were torrents of emotion, wreaking havoc on her stomach, her mind, her heart. “I understand. Jack, let me ask you. How many moments of weakness have you had?”
The air over the phone deadened. She waited. She’d seen enough lawyers at her work question people, getting at the meat of the story. There was always more than what was disclosed.
“Well, I couldn’t—”
“Take your best guess. You can be honest with me. With the blonde woman and anyone else as well.”
Her throat constricted asking the question, fearing the answer, but she had to know. She didn’t bother to wipe her tears since more would fall. She moved the phone away from her mouth and took a fortifying breath. Keep it together, Cat.
“It was the fourth time with Bonnie.” His voice held a meek and pensive tone.
Shit! “The blonde from last night. But she’s not the only one. How many have there been? Total?”
“Cat, you really don’t want to know.”
She swallowed hard, her eyes crushing closed as if it could stop the acid tears or the images of him with other women. “Yes, I do. I need to know, Jack. How many?”
“Eight,” he said in barely a whisper.
Oh God. Oh God. How could he? What did I ever do to him?
She willed her brain to work, to hang on for a few more minutes. She had to get through this. Then she never had to talk to Jack again. “I see. Let me ask you one more question. If you wanted all of them, why propose to me?”
He sighed. “Cat, please let me come over. Let’s discuss this in person.”
She knew that wasn’t a good idea. He would try some kind of manipulation, and she wasn’t strong enough right now to handle it.
“We can talk over the phone. Why, Jack?” Her voice cracked.
“I don’t know. They were more adventurous, I guess.”
“Adventurous?” Her stomach triple-knotted. That hit a little too close to home.
“I love making love to you, but it always… it always seems so safe. So cautious. Like you were holding back. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight. I wanted this with you, but since we didn’t… God, Cat. I guess I thought I could sow my oats before we got married. Sorta get it out of my system.”
Get it out of your system? What an asshole!
“I see.” Tears streamed down like a running faucet. What more could she say? Her brain was locked up. All the emotion, all the hurt, froze her in place. She wanted so badly to crawl out of her body, out of this life, and escape. Escape the pain, escape the embarrassment for being rejected for not being enough.
“Cat, please let me come over.”
“Jack, I’ve reached a decision. The wedding is off. You won’t change, this I’m certain of. I will have someone bring your things to you. Please gather up my stuff,” she sobbed out loud, “so my friends… can pick them up.” She croaked the words.
“Cat, no, wait. I swear it won’t happen again. We have too much love between us to throw it all away.”
“We had love between us. I trusted you. That trust is broken and won’t ever be repaired. Goodbye, Jack.”
She hung up the phone and wailed. “Ah.” She cried out, trying to release the misery.
The phone rang in her hand. Jack.
She just stared at it through clouded vision. When the device went silent, she opened her contacts, and hit “block”. She was done trusting him, he was out of her life, what more was there to say? He could have his adventures; she’d be too busy trying to piece herself back together.
She staggered to her feet and rummaged through her drawers and closet. He’d mostly had shirts and underwear at her place. A pair of his running shoes sat in her closet. She shoved it all into a canvas bag and went to the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, razor, cologne, and comb. Then, without more than five seconds of thought, she pulled the photographs of them out of her drawer and off her dresser. A year and a half of memories, erased in a heartbeat. But for her sanity, she knew this was what she had to do. She couldn’t be surrounded with the memories of Jack anymore.
Looking down at the ring on her left hand, she slipped it off and set it in her jewelry box.
She strolled back to the living room. Her girls were busy on their phones. Cat gathered the photos from around the space of her and Jack, so many great times. Well, maybe someday she would appreciate them because now they all seemed like one big fat lie.
Eight women. For fuck’s sake!
She dropped the bag by the front door, causing a thump. Then, she grabbed her key ring and wound Jack’s apartment key off—tossing it on top.