No, there has to be a rational explanation for this! There has to be! I staggered slightly, feeling dizzy all of a sudden.
My foot stepped onto something on the floor, right next to where my suitcase was placed. I bent to pick up the shimmery fabric. As I unraveled it,
I discovered that in my hands was a pair of black silk women’s panties. Like creeping death, more evidence of his infidelity unfolded to me. Visions
of him with Lauren, making love to her in this bed right in front of me, snuffed out every one of my joyous memories.
My cell phone shrilled in my pocket, startling me. My pulse quickened and I recoiled back, almost falling over my own feet.
“Hello?” I answered in between sobs.
“Is this Taryn Mitchell?” the male voice inquired abruptly.
“Yes. Who is this?” I muttered, wiping my cheek on my sleeve.
“It’s not important. Write down this address,” he ordered. His voice was gruff, muffled.
“What?” I asked, completely confused.
“He is with her right now,” the stranger informed. “We’re taking pictures of them together. Get a pen.”
While I listened to the clicking sounds of a camera, I scrambled to the desk and found a hotel tablet – the same stationary that Lauren used.
“Do you have a pen?” the man yelled.
“Yes, but I don’t understand.”
“You need to see the truth. Hurry. The hotel will get a taxi for you. Come to 2950 West Palermo Avenue - the restaurant on the corner. Shoot
that… he’s kissing her again! Ah! He is so busted! 2950 West Palermo.”
“Who is this?” I asked. “Hello?”
I tore the paper off the pad and grabbed my purse.
“2950 West Palermo,” I read the address to the taxi driver and then shoved the paper back in my pocket. The rain came down in buckets,
causing the car headlights to glare off the windshield. The skies were pitch black from the storm blasting Miami. The dark and ominous clouds
brought the wind, which caused the rain to blow sideways. Loud thunder started to rumble between the lightning flashes.
I sat on the edge of the back seat, staring wildly out the front window of the taxi. I saw the road sign indicating Palermo Ave. My throat became
tight with anticipation.
The taxi driver pulled over to the curb.
“2950 Palermo.” The driver pointed at the tall office building. “That’ll be fourteen-fifty.”
I grabbed a twenty out of my wallet; my hand shook as I handed it to him.
“Do you want a receipt?” he asked in a rough voice.
“No,” I said quickly, my hand was already pulling the lever on the door.
I gave the cab door a shove and hurried through the rain towards the shelter of the entrance. Frightening thunder rumbled through the sky; the
earsplitting crack made me instinctively duck while it echoed loudly off of the tall buildings. I flinched from the sound; knowing my luck I’d probably
get struck by lightning today too.
I looked at the big numbers on the gray stone building… 2950. It was a bank with several floors of offices above it.
I was utterly confused. What the? Was someone playing a cruel joke on me – sending me on some wild goose chase? I pulled the paper back
out of my pocket to double check the address, but instead of the address, I was looking at Lauren’s note again. The note I held in my hand was
definitely not a joke.
Restaurant on corner, my memory informed quickly. I looked up and down the street, unsure of which way to go. I was in the center of the block.
Fueled by the evidence clutched in my hand, I started walking fast down the sidewalk. The rain soaked through my clothes; my wet feet slipped
uncomfortably inside my leather boots. My hair that was once nicely done was completely drenched. I shivered from the wind and pulled my purse
back up on my shoulder.
I wished I had an umbrella to shield me from the rain. I flipped up the little collar of my shirt just to keep the water from dripping down my back.
Two men were standing near the corner, huddled next to a building, wearing plastic rain jackets. Both of them held cameras with long, white
lenses covered by a clear plastic sheath. Their lenses pointed towards the opposite street corner.
I looked across the street to the window. There was the restaurant and there was Ryan, visible from the street. My breath caught from seeing
him. Rain dripped from my hair and down my face; my mascara bled and burned my eyes as I tried to focus through the downpour.
I saw Ryan lift Lauren’s hand off the table. The two cameras clicked in a rhythmic hum.
He twisted the ring on her finger.
I felt the tears build in my eyes and unbearable pain cracked into my chest.
He picked her hand up and wrapped it in his, smiling at her before kissing her fingertips.
Horror and denial swirled through my soul like toxic fumes.
“No,” I whispered out in pain.
Then Ryan stood up from his chair, leaned across the table, and pressed his lips to hers. Right there in public… The cameras sounded like the
knives that sliced my heart to shreds.
Anger, resentment, and pure hatred welled in me as the last fragment of my heart was torn from my chest. I made it halfway across the street
before I was stopped by oncoming traffic.
A car came screeching to a halt, hydroplaning in the rain and missing me by inches. I was frozen in place; my eyes were locked on Ryan’s face.
No other vision mattered.
The driver honked his horn repeatedly, but I couldn’t move. Part of me wished he would just hit me and end the pain once and for all.
Do it! Hit the gas and finish me!
Lightning flashed over my head but I didn’t flinch this time. It would take a direct hit by a bolt of electricity to restart my heart.
The driver was impatient; his hand stayed on the horn longer the second time.
“Why?” I sobbed in the street. Losing our unborn child was nothing compared to the excruciating pain I felt now.
Right at that moment, it happened – before my very eyes – my greatest love turned into nothing more than another man I wasn’t good enough
for.
“Hey lady! Get out of the street!” the driver yelled at me through his open car window, blaring his horn at me again. I glanced in his direction; his
viscous tone distracted me.
“What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed?” the man continued shouting.
What the hell was wrong with me?
The lights of the oncoming traffic made starbursts in my blurry eyes. I was crying so hard that I forgot where I was for a second. My feet moved
unconsciously; I followed the yellow lines, hoping they would lead me to a place where the pain would stop.
My fingers found a door handle in the dark. I dropped Lauren’s poison-penned note, leaving it behind on the sidewalk. I didn’t need it with me
anymore. I had witnessed all the proof I needed with my own eyes.
“Taryn!” my memory called out in a muffled tone, strangely in the sound of Ryan’s voice, but I couldn’t respond to it. Darkness had already taken
me under.
“Where to Miss?” Some man asked me. “Miss?”
“Hu… home,” I breathed.
“And where is home?” the man asked.
My lips quivered as I found the will to speak. “Airport.”
Desolation and despair enveloped me again, choking my ability to breathe. All my hopes and dreams that involved Ryan were shattered.
My phone chimed that stupid ringtone, reminding me of his biggest lie that crushed my soul... he wasn’t mine anymore.
I rolled the car window down and tossed out my cell phone, releasing his song to the wind.
“Taryn?” I heard a man’s voice calling my name. My mind must really be playing tricks on me. Now I’m hearing voices. So this is what a
nervous breakdown feels like. At least I’m not crying anymore.
“Taryn, wait up.”
My legs trudged on their own, instinctively following the rest of the people hurrying around me. If I follow them far enough, maybe the flashing