Page 6 of Love Harder

This deplorable but typical behavior of all cheaters made me appreciate Ghost all the more.

He texted me throughout the night, checking in on us to ensure we were safe. He offered to come meet us. He also offered to meet me at my house whenever I got home. He couldn’t stay the night because he had work in the morning.

Before I could say I was not a booty call, he added that he wouldn’t come in. He just wanted to meet me and give me a hug. But he also offered to meet somewhere halfway if I didn’t feel comfortable giving him my address.

He just wanted to make sure I was okay.

And I believed him.

The shitty experience Bunny and I just underwent (apart from the hundreds of rabbits we saw in the field of dreams) made me appreciate Ghost so much because he cared.

He waited until I got home, messaging the entire time, and when I was safe, he bid me good night and said we would speak in the morning.

And he stuck to his word.

That simple gesture of kindness lured me in because, as sad as this is, kindness is a rarity today. So the fact that Ghost showed me something that should be expected behavior made him stand out from the rest.

From that day forward, I grew more attached.

We spoke so much.

Thousands of words bounced between us as we got to know one another, and to an author, that was our kryptonite.

He confided he was in a ten-year relationship and married for two of those years. That she didn’t want to try new things, and he didn’t want to miss out on all the beautiful things life had to offer.

I too confided in him about my marriage, and I guess our pain bonded us in a way.

He offered snippets of himself, and those pieces just drew me further in. He suffered from crippling depression, which he shared with me early on. He said he wasn’t happy for a very, very long time, but I made him happy. That his energy was slowly becoming addicted to mine.

And I believed him because his messages spoke volumes.

The things he said to me were heartfelt and honest. They were filled with his fears and dreams. We spoke incessantly at night when both of us finished work. It was like message ping-pong—back and forth, back and forth.

There were no games.

No waiting a few minutes between messages because you didn’t want to seem too eager.

I knew what Ghost wanted, and that was me.

He organized a date. I was impressed when he researched bars that served different mojitos—my favorite drink. Ghost took charge, something I liked in a man.

Another reason I liked Ghost was we didn’t veer into the smutty talk until later. He was more interested in getting to know me than asking about sex.

I respected that.

But when we finally did, it just made me fall harder because I liked everything he said. The things he said to me were so hot. I was select in my tastes, but he was on the same page with everything I said I liked or wanted.

He drove me crazy.

He didn’t ask for anything in return.

No naked pictures.

No late-night sexting.

No dirty phone calls.

Nothing.

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