Page 8 of Stepping Up to the Plate

“Still, I can’t imagine your mom is happy to know your dad has you putting in all this overtime. I think I’ll remind her of that when she inevitably bugs me about grandchildren tomorrow.” She is always quick to blame me for the lack of babies. Little does she know Phil is the one who put on the brakes.

Phil’s face pales. “Don’t bring it up to her.”

“Why not?”

“The company… has been struggling and Dad doesn’t want her to know. I’d hate to stress her out over nothing. We’ll be closing a big deal soon and everything will go back to normal. You know what a worry wart she can be.”

“Oh, I am sorry to hear that. I hope all the work you are putting in helps seal the deal.”

“Won’t be long now. I think this one only has a few more weeks until we’re done with it,” he says. “Now, how about no more work talk? I smell your Aunt Teresa’s baked ziti and I am famished.”

The rest of the night goes smoothly enough. We eat and share idle small talk before watchingChristmas Vacation, Phil’s favorite holiday movie and exchanging gifts. I got him tickets to the Huskers opening game and a game-worn jersey signed by his favorite player who is about to retire. It pays to have MLB connections. He got me a heart pendant and a bottle of expensive perfume.

The gifts were lovely, but I can’t help but be somewhat disappointed. I know he spent a small fortune on them and I appreciate it, but they highlight how much my husband doesn’t get me. The perfume is the same scent his mother wears which is a little creepy and the necklace is not my style at all. Aside from the fact it is obviously the one the mall jewelry stores have featured in their ads, it’s white gold. Every piece of jewelry I own is yellow gold. Everything in our house is yellow gold. You’d think he would realize that’s my preference.

* * *

Pushing that aside, I still try to make the best of the evening. But before I can suggest retiring to the bedroom, Phil is already asleep on the couch. I guess tomorrow I can show him the sexy Christmas lingerie I got.

New Year’s Eve

Another holiday, another day Phil is working. I hate that he’s putting pressure on himself but he said they had a lot to do before the end of the year. Since I know most of the office is off today, I decide to surprise him with lunch.

When I arrive at Robinson & Associates, there are only a few cars here. I think about calling Phil, but instead I type in the passcode and sneak in. When I make my way towards his office, a sense of impending dread overtakes me. I shake it off as I continue down the hall to his closed door. When I turn the handle and open it, my entire reality comes crashing in around me.

I stand there momentarily shocked before my brain can process what I’m seeing: Phil and his brother, Mark, both plowing into a blonde they have draped over the desk. Phil is slamming into her from behind while Mark is buried down her throat. Their heads all snap towards me as the food I was carrying goes crashing to the ground. Wide-eyed they appear as stunned as I am. For a second, no one moves but then the mystery woman smirks at me – with Mark’s dick still in her mouth – and it knocks me out of my stupor. Without a backwards glance, I flee.

“Lola!” I hear Phil shout behind me. I’m in my car and peeling out of the parking lot before he has time to pull his pants up and chase after me.

I make it all the way to the house before my emotions overwhelm me. Slamming my hands on the wheel, I wonder how I could be this stupid. How could I not see that he was cheating on me? Of course, he was! The late nights, the weekend work trips, the lack of interest in sex. It’s all so obvious now.

I give myself a moment to freak out before marching inside to pack a bag. I can’t stay here with him, not after this. Not after beating myself up for my marriage not working. Turns out it wasn’t a lack of effort on my part. It was because my husband decided to invite other people into it. The asshole in question arrives as I’m zipping up my suitcase.

He grabs my arm as I head to the door. “Honey, wait. Please, it wasn't what it looked like. This is all a big misunderstanding.”

Why do they always say that? Do they think our eyes don’t work? “You weren’t spit roasting some bimbo with your brother? You weren’t throwing our marriage away for some cheap thrill?” I ask.

“No, I mean yes we were with” – he pauses as he considers his next words – “that woman. But we were doing it for the family. She’s the rep for the deal we’ve been working on. It’s what we had to do to get the business. She’s been riding us for months and we finally decided to give her what she wanted to help Dad save the business.”

“Oh I’m sure she’s been riding you for months,” I mutter. You and I both know that is a load of shit. I’ve seen her before at the company picnic. She’s your brother’s assistant.” He’s either shocked I remember or for being called out, because he opens and closes his mouth several times without a rebuttal. Good. I shove him back and continue to my car. Before slamming the door, I add, “I’m going to stay with my dad for a while. Don’t contact me.”

* * *

Today is my birthday. I’ve been at my dad’s house for the last few days but he left last night to go on a business trip. I almost laughed when he told me and asked if any assistants would be joining him but that is more than I need to know about my dad. Plus, he’s a single man. He can do as he pleases. I’m not even a little bit surprised he won’t be here for my birthday. It’s not like he knew I was coming or that this is the first birthday he’ll miss.

My phone is blowing up with messages and calls but I can’t bring myself to return any. I haven’t told anyone what happened with Phil yet. I’m beyond embarrassed. You never think it’s going to happen to you. You never think you’ll miss the signs, but then you do. I’m staring at all the messages Phil sent me apologizing, asking me to come home, and gaslighting me about all the reasons he went to another woman. Despite all those messages, I am the most annoyed by the fact that he hasn't acknowledged my birthday. Not that I want him to, but it is telling. I’m scrolling through his string of lies and excuses when a FaceTime from Georgie comes through. I don’t want to answer, but I know I have to. Georgie will keep calling until I pick up. I put on a fake smile and hit the answer button.

“It’s the birthday girl!”

“Hi, Georgie. How’s Barbados?”

“Oh, you know, beautiful weather, beautiful people, delicious drinks, can’t complain. Next year you have to let me fly you out to spend your birthday together.”

“That would be nice,” I reply distractedly.

“What’s wrong, Honeybun? You don’t seem happy to be turning twenty-seven. Actually, you don’t seem happy at all. What gives, Lo? Who do I need to kill?”

I roll my eyes. Georgie has always been overprotective. Apparently not having any siblings of my own meant the Rivera family was adopting me. That gave me two big sisters and a big brother who were all ready to go to battle for me. I’m reluctant to tell the truth since Georgie was never fond of Phil. He was apparently slimy and had ‘a face that said he was up to something,’ which turned out to be true. This news is not going to go over well.

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