Valerie — Based On A True Story
Part 3 of 3
Sometimes, The Heart Needs To Accept What The Mind Already Knows.
The following is based on a true story I’ve seen unfold. Names have been changed, but the account is exactly as I’ve heard it from May. I haven’t been in touch with Mike for a while now.
The cup sailed off the edge of the table, exploding in a mess of tea and china on the floor.
May gaped, aghast at what she’d done.
Fingers buried deep in her hair, she felt more worked up than ever before.
“C’mon. Let’s talk this over.”
“What’s there to talk about?” She shrieked.
Mike held his hands up, as if to block another throw.
“What’s gotten into you?”
“Me? Oh I swear, Mike, you’ve got some nerve.”
His eyes glinted.
“We’ve always talked things out.”
May burst into a series of deep, long sobs that shook her entire body. Tears streamed down her face, dripping off her chin onto the table. Her eyes felt sore.
“There is no more we.” She whispered.
Mike remained silent.
“I’m curious,” she wiped her eyes with a napkin, smearing mascara all over it. “Do you think, she’ll stay by your side, when you don’t find time for her? Do you think, she’ll stay with you, even if you treat her like dirt?”
His face was turning deep shade of red.
“Are you really that blind?”
“At least she treats me like I’m somebody.” He snapped.
“You’re her boss. What makes you think she’d want you if you were a nobody?”
“Nobody wanted me when I was a nobody.”
“I did.”
The words cut deep, painful — even for her. Fresh tears rolled down her swollen cheeks.
“Before the fat paycheque. Before the promotion. Before the lies. To me, you were somebody, Mike.”
He reached out across the table. May stood up to leave, but he caught her wrist. With a snivel, she collapsed into his lap, cradled in his arms.
She cried into the soft fabric of his shirt, burying her face in it.
“I don’t want this to end.” she sobbed, digging her fingers into his shoulders. “But I’m tired of hearing how everything isn’t good enough for you, including me.”
May cried herself to sleep that night. Mike held her in his arms, then carried her to the sofa. She awoke briefly as he set her down on the cushions and kissed her on the lips.
May is the most loving, forgiving person I know. It pains me to hear what she’s been through.
The next day, Mike showed her an email — a request for transfer. He’d have to start at the bottom, work his way up in another department. It would mean throwing away everything he’d worked so hard for over the past three years.
No, not everything. He’d still have her.
He’d written it that night, huddled by her side, ashamed of what he’d done. How could he have been so blind? They’d start over again, forget all about it, like it was a bad dream.
May was still reading through the email when his phone started to vibrate.
Valerie was calling.
