Unfaithful

1290 Words3 Pages

Friday afternoon Mike Webster called me out of the blue and simply implored that I accompany him at Blue Lounge’s happy hour. I obliged, for I had no plans for that night, not for lack of alternatives, but for a recent lack of enthusiasm for the usual frivolity of LA’s nightlife. Mike sounded so determined over the phone, which was wholly unlike the Mike I knew from University, that I simply had to take his invitation seriously. So, while Jay and Izzy were getting complimentary lap dances at the Iguana, I spent my Saturday evening with Mopey Mike. The last time Mike and I had talked must have been at his wedding back in June, a rather sordid affair which featured a decrepit colored minister and synthetic flowers adornments, which littered the quaint chapel’s pews. Poor Mike. Ever since his father’s paper business- nay, paper empire- collapsed, Mike’s been living like a pauper. No more luncheon cocktails or tailored suits. He had to get a job. He even ended up marrying the daughter of a high school teacher- pretty little thing, but rather dull if you asked me. Oh what was her name? After indulging in a midday cruise through the Boulevard, I shaved, smoked a cigar, and sipped some Macallan in preparation for my engagement with Mike. I must have arrived at the Lounge a few minutes late, for poor Mike paced furiously back and forth, puffing on a cigarillo when I came upon him. The Mike I had known could hardly conceive that others might inconvenience him, much less express haughtiness at five minutes’ tardiness! Here, his demeanor resembled that of an older Mike with no cause for dejection. How liberated of his old humility he seemed! Jovially, I seized his hand and embraced him as chum once mor... ... middle of paper ... ... secret has been destroying me. I need you to know. Trust me, this brings me only shame, which is why I am moving out for a while. I just can’t face you for a while until this has sunken in for us both: me, for knowing that you know, and you, for merely knowing. I know I am a coward, but you must believe me in that in writing this letter, I have placed all I hold dear at stake. If you can live with me and be my husband after knowing what you have just read, then I will see you in a week. If you want to leave me- divorce me- I understand completely. But please give it some time. I love you. Oh please forgive me, Marta” The letter was typed. Mike could just see her, hunched over the computer, laboring over every punctuation mark, squinting because she hated her glasses and refused to wear them. The whore.

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