Diary of a Mistress

Chapter 4

kiss,” he said.

He then walked over to Monica’s mother, who had been sitting on the sofa ob-

serving her daughter’s family with delight.

“And for the second most beautiful woman in the world,” Carlos said as he

kissed his mother-in-law on her cheek.

Carlos was an excellent husband and father. He was charming, respectful, com-

mitted, and good-looking. Monica took a minute to count her blessings.

The big round clock that hung in Angela’s living room right above her fireplace

said two o’clock. Angela was on her couch wrapped in a chenille throw, still wear-

ing the clothes from the previous morning. An infomercial was playing on the TV.

She picked up the cordless phone from the floor and checked the caller ID. Noth-

ing. Carlos hadn’t even bothered to call her. She had expected a call early in the

afternoon. Now here it was two o’clock in the morning. She had taken off work for

him, she thought. She was furious. She dialed the number for his home office.

“Hello,” Carlos whispered, noticing Angela’s name in his caller ID box. “I

thought I told you not to call me past a certain time.” Carlos sounded frustrated.

Angela’s stomach tied up in knots. She couldn’t believe Carlos’s tone. “Carlos,

we had a deal!”

“I know, I know, but my wife surprised me with a day off together,” Carlos ex-

plained.

“But you promised! For years, you’ve been promising!” Angela whined.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Angela,” Carlos said helplessly.

Tears began to well up in Angela’s eyes.

“I’m talking about us. You and me, Carlos. What’s going to happen to us?

That’s what we were supposed to discuss today, remember?”

“Listen, I have to go, and there is no us. I’m sorry,” Carlos said, right before he

hung up on her.

“CARLOS! CARLOS!” Angela screamed into the phone.

When she realized he had hung up, she threw her phone across the room. She began to experience a piercing pain in her stomach. She paced her apartment until

she got tired. Then she balled up in a corner and wrapped her arms tightly around

her knees. Her head was burning with a migraine. She was having flashbacks of all

the good times she had with Carlos, the many days Carlos was the only person

who kept her sane. Then, fragments of scenes from her past relationships passed

through her mind: the affair her husband had, the child outside their marriage, the

divorce, her pregnancy. She felt her migraine growing stronger. She needed Carlos

more now than ever before. He had been the only person who could make all the

pain of her past disappear. He had been her backbone, her single reason for living.

And here he was telling her it was over. Just like that. No forewarning, no remorse,

nothing. Everything she’d been through with him, everything he’d done for her

were just distant memories. And now he would go on to be happy with his wife and

children and leave Angela out on her own with nobody. She couldn’t handle it. She

was devastated. Walking into her bathroom, she opened the medicine cabinet and

retrieved a bottle of Vicodin painkillers. She was going to put a stop to this

headache. She was going to put a stop to everything. Thump! Thump! Thump!

Thump! Thump! Thump!

“Angela! Angela! Open the door!” Angela’s younger sister Ashley called out.

A week had gone by, and no one had heard from or seen her sister. First, Ange-

la’s housekeeper called Ashley earlier in the week asking about Angela, wanting to

know how to collect her pay. Then Angela’s boss called Ashley to find out why her

sister hadn’t been to work. Angela and Ashley were close, but they lived totally dif-

ferent lives so their paths didn’t cross much. But anytime Ashley received phone

calls about her sister’s whereabouts, she immediately knew what was wrong.

“This is 911, what’s your emergency?”

“I’m at my sister’s apartment and she’s inside but she’s not answering the

door. I’m afraid she might be hurt or unconscious or something,” Ashley said in a

panic.

“What’s the location?”

“Bensalem Manor, apartment 3B,” Ashley reported.

“We’re sending an officer out, but in the meantime, try contacting the apart-

ment’s manager or maintenance and have them unlock the door. They should have

a master key, and if you’re listed as an emergency contact person for your sister,

they’ll let you in,” the 911 operator instructed.

Ashley followed the operator’s advice. She backed away from her sister’s door

and ran down the two flights of stairs. She rushed into the parking lot, jumped into

her car, and drove to the office. After quickly reviewing Angela’s file, the manager

and Ashley went back to Angela’s second-floor unit and let themselves in. The

apartment was stuffy, and a horrible smell clogged the air. Ashley called her sister’s

name repeatedly, going from room to room, until she found her sister lying on the

floor in her own vomit. Angela was barely conscious, murmuring, “Get me to the

airport.” She was too weak to move. Beside her was a half-empty bottle of Vicodin

and an empty bottle of Merlot. The ambulance arrived shortly thereafter. After gathering brief information

about Angela from Ashley and the apartment’s manager, the EMT workers put An-

gela on a stretcher. Ashley walked behind, watching her sister closely, as the EMTs

carried Angela out of the building. The sight of her sister’s unstable mental state

saddened Ashley. She got in her car and followed the emergency response unit to

Frankford Hospital.

As is typical for late August, the air was humid. The sun burst through the early

noon clouds with power. The Philadelphia International Airport was the last place

Monica thought she would end up, but when her husband pleaded with her to

leave all the household chores alone and meet him there for lunch, she couldn’t re-

sist.

“Now, park the car and meet me at Terminal D. Follow the signs to Delta Air-

lines,” Carlos instructed his wife over his cell phone.

“Okay,” Monica said. “This better be a good lunch. Do you know what all I