Who's Lovin' You? (4/4)

Part 4:  Who’s Lovin’ You?

I warned Brielle about getting tangled up again.  It never works out for the jump-off.  Never.  I don’t care if the man in question loves your dirty, period-encrusted drawers…it will never work out if you are the other woman.  One way or another, the bill comes due and sometimes it is way more than expected.  I will say this:  Brielle loved that man and that man loved her.  I saw it with my own eyes and I can say that I’ve never seen her love or be loved like that by any of her former suitors.

It wasn’t at first sight; no one believes in that garbage anymore…but it was a mutual nerdgasm from the moment she realized who he was.  Brielle was a popular fanfic author and Patrick was one of her biggest fans and followed her work closely.  I don’t know exactly how he figured out who she was, but once he approached her in that vein, I knew trouble was on the horizon.  I do know they argued a lot, and all I have to say is that for her, verbal combat was the ultimate turn-on.  Brielle was very passionate about her writing, and Patrick was very passionate about her writing as well. 

Who's Lovin' You? (3)

Part 3:  You Used to Love Me

I thought I could have let it pass.  I would have been willing to stand and let God see me through this whole thing.  I thought I was strong enough to overlook all of it.  I was secure in my marriage, my union of 39 years with my husband, Patrick.  We were happy and comfortable and planning to retire in Houston, TX, where our eldest lived with three of our seven grandchildren.  Our home and our lives were peaceful, we were content, and we were happy…until a vacancy in Patrick’s college was filled.  He’s the Dean of Arts & Sciences, and HR hired an associate astrophysics professor from USC.  The professor’s name was Brielle Hunter.

I do not know what magic, sorcery, voodoo, spell, charm, or potion Brielle used on my husband…but she would make far more money hustling it instead of teaching wayward college students.  There are women who would pay thousands for whatever enchantment she used to try and steal my faithful, loyal husband of almost 40 years away from me.  I say “try,” but if I’m 100% honest with myself, the truth is that she did steal him.  About a month after Brielle was hired, my husband was utterly smitten with her and he couldn’t help it.  He tried to keep it from me, but a woman knows and a wife knows better.  I appreciated his attempts to keep me in the dark about what I first thought was a crush.

Who's Lovin' You (2)

Part 2:  I Used to Love Her

I was disconnected from reality.  I knew her hand was gripping mine; our fingers were laced tighter than brand-new shoestrings.  I knew it but I couldn’t feel it.  I could barely muster a smile, much less words to speak.   I’ve never been one for conversation; I’m an academic, a nerd, a geek, and a bibliophile…and I prefer my books, journals, and tomes to inane chatter.  My secret, secret passion is fanfiction and while it is nothing to be ashamed of, I took steps to maintain a great distance between my work and my clandestine pastime.  I’m not a fanfic author, but I am a prolific reader and a member of several communities.  By Fate’s hand, I met my favorite fanfiction author by accident and three weeks later, I literally could not live without her.

Who's Lovin' You?

And I wonder, wonder, wonder...who’s lovin’ you

  

Part 1:  I Used to Love Him

Late in the summer, mimosas bloom like crazy.  They range from pink to orange and when there’s a lot of trees clustered together, the sight is amazing.  I’ve always loved mimosa trees.  There’s a row of them across the street from my house, which is currently overflowing with people and food.  I don’t want to be bothered, as my social skills only go so far.  But fortunately, my best friend was holding down the hostess duties and I was grateful.

I sat in my huge window that faced the mimosa trees and wrapped my arms around my body.  Even though it was overcast and humid, I was cold.  I haven’t been warm since the last time he and I were together…and I can’t even remember when that was.  That I can’t recall once-vivid memories makes me sad, because in spite of the circumstances, we were so good together.   I tried to avoid the steamroller that was him, but my poor heart was no match for his passion, and it became clear early on that his was no match for the reality of me.