Married to a retired playboy

Rain lashed against the office building windows, blurring the cityscape into an impressionist painting. Inside her office, Vanessa gripped the phone tighter, her knuckles white against the purple and white plastic pouch as she lamented to her best friend, Carolyn. Three years. Three years of dating Emmy. Yet, every year, Emmy seems to work with a calendar that conspire against their relationship, also swallowing their anniversary whole. “I will visit him at his office, today” Vanessa told Carolyn over the phone. “I will have to remind him myself….. like I do every year” she added as sadness laced in her voice. "Are you sure about this, Vani?" Carolyn's voice, a familiar blend of concern and worry, crackled through the receiver. "Just popping in unannounced? Emmy might be in a meeting." Vanessa winced. Meetings. That was Emmy's default excuse. Meetings that stretched late, demanded his undivided attention, and conveniently erased every memory of dates, champagne toasts and whispered "I love you." "He always has meetings," Vanessa muttered, her voice laced with a bitterness she tried hard to mask. "Maybe if I remind him in person..." The sentence trailed off. Even to her own ears, it sounded flimsy, a desperate attempt to save a day that already felt lost. Carolyn sighed, a sound heavy with understanding. "Look," she said, her voice gentling, "why not call him first? A heads-up, like a casual 'thinking about you' kind of thing? Then, if he reacts weirdly, you'll know what you're dealing with, right?" “Fine, I will call him first,” she replied sounding unconvinced. As Vanessa considered this, a flicker of hope ignited in her chest. A casual call could be a subtle reminder. Maybe, this year would be different. “I will keep you updated when I'm done talking to Emmy,” she told Carolyn. “Bye for now. I hope things work fine for you.” Carolyn encouraged her before ending the call. With a newfound resolve as she disconnected the call, she scrolled through her phone's contacts. Her finger hovered over Emmy's name, a familiar pang of nervousness twisting in her gut. Today, she would find out the truth, and whatever it may be, it would come out. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the call button, the sound echoing in her ear as it connected. Unfortunately, no answer. She tried the same method three times, expecting a different results but nothing changed. After the third attempt, she considered sending a text to him. “Hey, I'm coming over to your office. Hope you are not busy?” She sent the short text, omitting the important part which was their anniversary. Minutes pass into minutes as she waited for him to text back but he was not replying. What can he be doing? Is he in a meeting? These questions flooded her mind as doubt began to swell in her heart. She had noticed Emmy's strange behavior but she has been ignoring those signs, for three years, she had been committed to the relationship, hoping her boyfriend will change his nonchalant attitude towards dates, anniversary, champagne toast and other couple-stuff. After a stretched time, she got no response from Emmy. Changing her mind, she decided to visit Emmy at his office. She needs to see him in person so they can talk things out before it gets out of hands. Frustration simmered alongside the rain outside as Vanessa stormed out of the office building. The once gentle drizzle had morphed into a steady downpour, the wind whipping the rain into sheets that blurred the city landscape. Clutching on to her flimsy umbrella that offered little protection, she sprinted across the sidewalk, her heels clicking against the wet pavement. Reaching the parking garage, she ducked under the overhang, gasping for breath. Vanessa's gaze landed on her dented, cherry red Ford nestled in a forgotten corner. Rain hammered against its faded paint, leaving rivulets that traced the countless scratches and dings that served as a map of past fender benders. "Rusty," Vanessa muttered affectionately, reaching for the well-worn key fob. This wasn't the sleek sports car she'd dreamt of but Rusty, her companion, had never let her down. With a sigh, she climbed into the worn leather interior, a familiar scent of lavender greeted her. The engine coughed and sputtered to life, protesting the damp weather with a series of disgruntled coughs. Vanessa could have chuckled as she always does but she was in no mood. The impending conversation with Emmy was the only thing on her mind. Rusty wasn't the perfect car, it was far from it, but today, amidst the chaos and frustration, it was exactly what she needed, a loyal and reliable friend, steed to carry her towards whatever Emmy's office held. With purpose filled steps, she got out of her car, she approached the his office building. As the elevator doors whooshed open, revealing a scene Vanessa hadn't dared to imagine. Her carefully chosen outfit, a mix of power and femininity, suddenly felt like a costume for a play gone horribly wrong. Emmy's office door was ajar, a sliver of light escaping like a silent scream. Vanessa's heart hammered against her ribs, a stark counterpoint to the hushed sounds filtering through the gap. Curiosity, propelled her forward, with one hesitant step, then another. The plush carpet muffled the sound of her approach, allowing her to witness a scene that threatened to rip her heart apart. Emmy, her own Emmy, her boyfriend for three years, was entangled with his usually prim and proper secretary, their clothes strewn across the office floor. A choked sob escaped her lips as she opened the door widely, a tiny sound that shattered the scene. Emmy's head snapped up, his face a mask of surprise morphing into panicked horror as their eyes met. “What….?” The words stop in her throat as she tried to process the horrible sight she had witness. His secretary, mirroring his shocked expression, scrambled to cover herself, as she ran out of his office. Vanessa ignored her, her main focus was Emmy, her supposed boyfriend. “You didn't tell me you were coming,”he said casually, trying to hide the fact that she just caught him cheating on her on their anniversary. She scoffed, her eyes darting towards their picture frame sitting pretty on his table. The carefully constructed world she'd built with Emmy crumbled around her. In its place, a gaping chasm of betrayal yawned, threatening to swallow her whole. A sob erupted from Vanessa's throat, a sound raw with fury and heartbreak. The scene before her blurred as tears welled in her eyes. With a surge of adrenaline, she crossed the room, the distance between them evaporating in a heartbeat. Her hand, propelled by a white-hot rage, connected with a resounding smack across his face. "You scumbag! She shouted. “Three years!" she screamed, the words punctuated by choked sobs. "Three anniversaries you forgot, giving me silly excuses. You lying weasel!" “How dare you hit me?” Emmy roared, stunned by the sudden attack. Reacting instinctively, his hand flew up, mirroring her slap. Vanessa gasped loudly as the impact sent a jolt of pain through Vanessa's cheek, a physical manifestation of the emotional earthquake ripping through her. “How dare you raised your hands on me” she said as her anger slowly turns to sadness. “How could you do this to me without an atom of guilt?” She cried. She couldn't believe her boyfriend slapped her because she caught him cheating on her with his secretary. “I'm sorry for hitting you….. it was a mistake, I didn't mean to do it” Emmy apologize for hitting her but he is not sorry for cheating on her on their anniversary. In a voice thick with emotion, she choked out the words that would sever the ties that bound them. "It's over, Emmy. We're done." Tears streamed down her face, each one a silent accusation washing away the years of stolen moments and whispered promises. With a final, lingering look at the man who had betrayed her trust, Vanessa turned and fled the office. The rain outside, which had seemed a mere annoyance moments ago, washed the tears away from her face, but did less to soothe the rage within her. Under the heavy downpour, Vanessa vowed to stay away from men and relationship in general.