So. I had a bit of an off moment on Sunday.
During an otherwise truly lovely – quite romantic, in fact – weekend that my barman quite spontaneously suggested, midweek.
I didn’t sleep so went for a three hour walk on the beach.
On my return, BG asked me if he’d done something wrong. But, my unsettled, insomnia wasn’t about him. More a freak out at the overwhelming business stuff, as I had a bit of a scary meeting on Friday.
It was the four year anniversary of moving into the first safe home, my own home, MY first I bought all by myself.
And yeah, BG still hadn’t tried to fuck me for a month…
Then, I showered – we showered 😜 – and his ex’s brother and sister-in-law showed up! While I was all scraggly hair, fresh-faced and starting to pack.
We sat having coffee with them on our deck for over an hour.
They’re really nice people. BG introduced them to each other, over a decade ago.
I’d met them before. And, to our surprise and delight, they’d just got married the previous weekend. I could see their happiness.
Hearing them talk about the wedding (held in my town!) we realised that BG’s cheating ex, the groom’s sister, had come over from Australia with their other sister, for the wedding. No drama at all. Just serendipitous as the border had only just opened again. Luckily for the families.
I was aware we were over check out time, and I ducked back inside, and down the other end of the apartment complex to try to return the key. Back, I was quickly towelling my hair dry, and therefore I missed some of the chat. I deliberately did that, to be honest, giving the old friends some moments of privacy, to catch up, without the “new girl,” breathing down their necks. BG met Chrissy when she was visiting her brother and SIL, over from Australia, about eight years ago, in that town.
Anyway, we drove home after visiting with more friends, stopping for late lunch in a nearby small city on the way back to my place. There, as we walked into the restaurant, I realised an old hometown mate, GJ, was sitting in the window with his partner.
I didn’t recognise him at first. But this is a guy who I used to have a funny sexual banter thing with, for decades. All very chaste, safe and silly. I was “happily partnered” right?
Anyway, he’s a very good looking, terminally single, older guy. The town lothario. Broken a lot of hearts over the years. He used to tell me that Rog had the Most Fuckable Woman in Insert Name of Town.
Wouldn’t get too excited, it’s a small town. 😜
But that’s the kind of bullshitty thing he and I had.
Of course, I went over to say hi. And it felt REALLY weird, running into him with BG…
That night, in bed, BG said he had something he’d been keeping from me, and he needed to tell me, felt really bad. He said, “I’ve lied to you. And it’s not okay. I’m sorry.”
Obviously, my heart froze.
Turns out, while I was packing, and in the bathroom, he found out Chrissy was staying just down the road, and the SIL had asked him earlier, when she first spotted him, before she knew I was there, if he wanted to go and say hi, to her and the other sis, as they were just taking them to the airport later.
He, of course, said, no thanks. Shaking his head, “no. No thanks. Oh, and Paula’s here.”
They would have no real reason to realise we were still a thing. I met them well over a year ago, and there was no indication that we were long-term.
But obviously Belle, the ex-SIL must have told Chrissy later, and she sent him a text, saying, “hey, you snob, why didn’t you come see us?”
He felt he’d hidden that from me. He never replied. He wanted to say to her, “fuck off. That’s inappropriate, and why would I want to see you.” And can’t work out why she doesn’t get that he is not her friend after what she put him through. “I’m sorry babe. It was a shock. She hasn’t contacted me since that last time she wished me happy birthday. I haven’t replied to any of her texts in years. Look at my phone. I should have told you then. I didn’t. I lied to you. I feel really awful.”
I didn’t see it that way. I had a difficult morning. He tried to find out why I’d got up and slept on the couch and walked the beach for three hours. He thought he’d messed up somehow. He’d been drinking with one of his best mates, and wondered if I was quietly pissed off.
I wasn’t. Not in the slightest.
I was ruminating and panicking about finance. Reflecting on this day, four years earlier. Admittedly, I was deeply disappointed and sexually frustrated that he hadn’t made a single move on me in weeks. To the point where I back off, stop trying.
But the major thing was I was in my own head. Worrying. But not about him.
As he teased my worries out a little bit, my lip wobbled, there were tears stinging, behind my sunglasses. He’s never seen me cry, and I was fighting it. I won. But it got close. He held me, asking how he could help.
When he told me about the text from Chrissy, I told him that I wasn’t upset. I’m not threatened by her. He knows I get it. That yes, she’s a stunning, petite, blonde, and yeah. I’m not. That’s somewhat intimidating. But I know she treated him very poorly, and he doesn’t want her.
He assures me her looks are Instagrammable, but she’s not that pretty IRL. Heavily filtered and well lit. And I get why he didn’t tell me about contact straight away. I was a bit off, we had just had a difficult talk. I wouldn’t have thrown that information in there in the same situation. A tired and emotional partner, “hey, my sexy ex is staying down the road and wants to see me.”
The important thing is, he told me later. He didn’t have to. We left town. I could have never been told. And I would have never known. I appreciate his candour, and honesty.
He said that he was upset because I asked him twice during the day if everything was okay, and he thought that I knew him so well, and knew he was a bit off.
I did know he was a bit pensive. I knew my moment had rattled him. I know he’s having a lot of stress at work, and getting him away, trying to switch off, is challenging. He’s arrived back to more Covid in the staff, leaving just himself and his bar manager, just returned from a week’s leave, as the only staff members with bar duty manager’s licences. He’s gonna have to pull some bar shifts this week, and possibly longer. It’s stressful. Losing money hand over fist, and he works seven days a week if he doesn’t get outta Dodge. That’s in normal times. Without night shifts added behind the bar, after a day behind the computer, and calculator!
I was surprised – but impressed at his emotional intelligence – that he framed the delay in telling me about Chrissy’s message, as lying.
Roger never did. If I didn’t know, it wasn’t a lie. Right? BG at least obviously understands about lying by omission.
That is actually very comforting.
Oh, we got two fantastic sessions in before he left. One, prolonged shower sex one, and one of me waking him gently but urgently at 4.30am before he left on Monday morning. It’s there. He just doesn’t need me physically as much as I’m used to, as much as I need him.
As much as Rog needed me, daily.
It is a hard thing to reconcile. We are talking about it. It’s not being ignored.