The Other Woman Part 3

"You went back to what you knew

So far removed

From all that we went through

And I tread a troubled track

My odds are stacked

I'll go back to black

We only said goodbye with words

I died a hundred times

You go back to her

And I go back to

I go back to us"

"Back to Black" by Amy Winehouse

"Inhale through the nose….and exhale through the nose. Control your breathing and keep it long. Place your finger in front of the nose. Imagine it is a feather. Breathe so light that the feather would not move…

…Your body would think you are not breathing enough and hyperventilate. Resist the urge. You are fine. You are not suffocating."

But I am suffocating. I am desperate to come out of the deep meditation, like a drowning person desperate to get their head above the water. I grasp for air and open my eyes. In the mirror reflection of the yoga studio, I see myself, in black which makes me look so pale and drained, with a gaunt face, tired bloodshot eyes staring back at me. The lighting in the studio is terrible, I have aged at least ten years. The undereye bags are heavy and dark, and the lightening eye serum and the tightening eye cream are no good without any good night's sleep.

It has been three, no, four nights in a row now. Always after 2 a.m. with no fixed pattern. She will call and say nothing, not even a murmur. All you can hear is her faint breathing, light as a feather. She hung up after five seconds in the first call. She took her time. The next call took longer than the last one. It is like a game for her and I am tired of the game. I hung up first.

I want it all to end.

I dive back into the deep meditation. Calmness has abandoned me and my head is now bloated with thoughts and questions surrounded by raging water.

…all the questions how could he how did she get hold of my number isn't he supposed to protect me when is she going to stop should I go to the police should I speak to her should I confront her but I am the third person I am the bad person it takes two to tango she should ask her husband but what would he say would he blame it all on me no he wouldn't would he are you sure he is a liar he is a cheater after all he is not at all innocent one question spills out to another then to another then to another like the splitting of atomic nuclei of a nuclear weapon the more splitting the more energy it generates the more anger and rage there is the more destructive it becomes all quickly gets converted into waves of pressures until an explosion is unavoidable…

I called to tell him that the police said there was nothing they could do with mysterious calls from a burnt phone.

She stops calling and so does he.

I miss getting the calls from him and more so from her. Like a codependent relationship, you know it is toxic but you also know its existence validates each other. He bonds us in this impossible, tangled, and poisonous liaison. The duo dynamic, if happens in a different circumstance, we may even become good friends. Can you imagine the wonderful friendship between the wife and the mistress? Would it be his worst nightmare? Or his beautiful dream?

Two weeks later.

Again 2.08 a.m.

Again, the phone rings.

"Hello…"

"Go! Go say it!" A woman's voice is in the distance at the other end of the phone.

It is his number.

"…ahem…I…hmm…don't want to ever see you…again…"

"…what…but we have not been…"

"You heard it bitch…you heard it!" She snatches the phone from him and growls.

"…"

"The letter…how could you?" His voice comes through.

"What letter?"

"Come on…don't deny it now. You sent a letter to our home. The girls read it. They are really upset. You should never drag them into this. They are innocent. It is between the adults. They lock themselves in their rooms and she has almost destroyed the house, trashed everything in sight…she wants to cut her…"

"But I didn't…"

"You heard him. He doesn't want you!"

The phone goes dead.

I did not write the letter. I know nothing about any letter.

A woman scorned is most horrid. She would do anything. ANYTHING. She must have written the letter pretending to be me, posted it to their home, "accidentally" left it there for the daughters to read and havoc ensured. She knows the children are his Achilles Heels. She gets him where it hurts the most.

All is fair in love and war.

What a magnificent battle fought and lost.

#adayinthejungle #lovetriangle #awomanscorned #letter #theotherwoman #mistress