Bang Bang, You're Dead

She debated long and hard about traveling to Cambridge.
He had pleaded over days, and weeks of all night calls.
She wrestled with herself.
One, he sounded drunk.
Two, she was still almost sure he was having an affair with the older fifty-three year old woman, who he had be-friended a year ago. He laughed at her when she kept bringing it up.
"Sue's just a flirt, like that with all the boys! How on earth do you think I could fancy that?! " he had said.
She had begun to think she was simply paranoid, and maybe, as he said, they were just friends.
Two months before, he had moved out after a drunken episode, and moved to Ely.
Where his “friend” lived.
He was forty one, and everytime she tried to imagine them together it just didn't fit. She trusted him, convinced herself it was a friendship between them. After all, their sex life was fantastic, why would he need to seek it elsewhere? Plus the fact, he pointed out, she had close male friends.
The relationship had become rocky, but he constantly called drunk and unhappy, promising her he would make things right again, and to sit tight. He would be home, he just needed to sort his life out. Get help with the drinking.
“Please come”. He whispered brokenly,
Promising her everything would be alright.
They were bonded.
Meant to be together.
Soul mates.
Traveling on the speeding train she knew, despite all his faults, she loved him.
Always had.
There had never been a man who had connected to her heart as he did, no one who touched her skin in the way he managed to, leaving her in a state of magical whirlwind.
He had taught her so much about herself that she had never dreamt possible, been the first man she experienced so many different things with, and always had the faith, they would grow old together.
They had always got on so well, even before they met, talking on the phone for hours. He had, she thought, been all the things she believed a beautiful relationship should be.
Until she realised he had a serious drink problem.
The train drew closer to its destination.
I love him so much, she thought, and surely a love like ours conquers all?
He met her at the station, taking her in his arms, holding her tightly, and together, they stood clinging, kissing and coming home to each other.
Nothing of past mattered. They were here, together, and that’s how it was meant to be.
They arrived back at his flat, never making the bedroom, so intense was the physical need to love each other, connect again as only lovers can, anger fuelled with need and desire, whispering how much they had missed each other.
After some hours, he slept.
She crept into the kitchen to make a coffee feeling sated and loved.
The phone rang. Shrill in the silence of the flat.
Startled, she thought the hour was late for someone to be calling and picked it up.
“Hello?”
“Who’s that?” a sharp voice.
“You know quite well who it is, Sue.”
The phone at the other end hung up.
Two minutes later the phone rang again.
“Is that you?!”
“Yes, I am his girlfriend! I’ll tell him you called, shall I? ”
“Actually…………………..”
The calm voice on the other end proceeded to tell her what a fool she had been, thinking he loved her at all.
“How long do you think this has been going on? Since bloody October. Six months. I’ve had enough of this. I’m coming over right now and I am getting all my stuff. ”
“ Six months? How can that be possible? He was living with me. You knew he had a girlfriend. Why?! How can you do that to someone else?”
“Why not, remember Sundays?”, Sue replied laughing bitterly,
“But all the time he was asking me to marry him, why would you do that to another woman?”
“WHY NOT? I've always known he was with you, but then he told me it was over between you. Look, I’m coming over now, he lied to me, he lied to you. I’ve had enough! I’ve invested far too much time into this.” Sue shouted.
“I better get my knickers on then” She retorted bitterly.
Within twenty minutes, fifty three year old Sue arrived, and slamming around each room, throwing things into a large plastic box, plates, cutlery, clothes, toiletries, video’s, and all the food from the fridge. She had bought her daughter along for the ride.
“Where’s my toothbrush?”
Sue flew like a demon into the bathroom.
Standing there, she watched with horror.
I must have been the “other woman”. She reflected.
At that moment she could cheerfully have punched the woman in the mouth, but what would have been the point? She supposed, she could wake him, screaming at the top of her lungs, but again, what would be the point? She desperately needed to retain some dignity, walk away with some pride.
It was apparent they had spent much time here together, nights she had sat in London, crying, missing him, thinking she would not cope without him, he had been living here, quite happily fucking this older woman, who in her need, had spoilt him with material things.
As the drama unfolded, she felt sick.
"This is NOT happening to me" she cried inside.
She had come, because he had told her everything would be alright.
She flashed back to the earlier conversation, asking him if this was a good idea, because so much had passed in so few weeks. He told her it was the BEST thing she could do. Get on the train and come to him.
“The duvet is mine too, think he’ll notice if I go and rip it off him?!”
Sue stormed into the bedroom, pulling the duvet from his naked body.
She could hear muttering, but no protest. Probably too drunk to even notice, she thought.
Standing by the door, with the huge box, TV, Spainsh guitar, and even his coat, she turned.
“I’m taking his mobile too. I’m going to chuck it somewhere. Should take the damn wallet as well, but there is nothing in it.”
Sue laughed.
She just stood staring with tears in her eyes. It was surreal.
Sue’s face softened.
“You get used to it, men; I’ve done this a fair few times.”
She thought “I’ll never ever get used to this.”
Sue departed, with daughter in tow, and loaded the car.
She shut the door.
It was 1am.
She was in the middle of no where.
“If I stay till morning I’ll lose my mind. Or he’ll wake up, we’ll argue as we do, then he’ll make love to me, and I’ll be lost. He’ll deny it, have some tale to tell, and because I love him, I’ll let it be, and believe him.”
She picked up the phone.
After half an hour, she realised there were no cabs firms who operated at this hour, no trains and no coaches.
She dialled the first cab firm again. Pleading with him.
“I have to get home to London, please, there must be a way”.
He must have sensed her desperation.
“Give me ten minutes, I’ll be there”
She realised that she had to keep it together. Falling apart was not going to change a thing.
She would have to live with the fact, the awful burden, of this sorry tale, try to banish all good memories of him, the way he whispered to her, the smell of him, his skin, the way he talked to her and always made such perfect sense. The way he held her, made love to her. The times of laughter, their made-up world of Snotland, all those future plans and dreams, all those memories she had so treasured.
But most of all her faith in him. Because she had so believed in him.
Every lie, she had believed.
Had he loved her at all?
How could she have been so wrong?
Was she delusional, or had he, in his way, truly loved her?
He told her she was his soul mate.
He told her everything would be alright.
She knew one thing. She would never trust again.
Or believe in love.
Her faith in human nature had once again, been rocked. She would spend a lifetime dealing with a betrayal she simply didn’t understand.

Walking into the bedroom, his beautiful body stretched out naked in drunken sleep, his wonderful green eyes closed, the eyes she had so loved, he unaware of all that had passed, she cried.
She wanted to crawl in next to him, wrap herself against him, feel his arms hold her, and forget everything. If only she could shut out the world. She would forever miss him.
It was the most painful feeling. Because she still loved him.
Turning, she left the bedroom, walked out of the front door and out of his life.