My Tiger Woods

The story. 10pm 6/1/10

The buzzer rings unexpectedly. We had just arrived home. The doorman’s voice through the intercom echoes, “You have a guest here.” A replies hurriedly, “I’ll come down.”

As I unbutton my dress, laying the night to bed, I question who it was. I thought a dealer as A has an affinity for weed.  Five minutes pass, then ten. I notice his phone on the island and perplexed as to what could be taking so long, I look for an answer. No texts, no missed calls. My fingers continue to scroll through a history, one that paralleled us . . . 

What I discovered was more than one could ever fathom. Impossible. Not just a double-life, but multiple. A storied existence. The trashy thong I found in the bed long ago was reduced to child’s play.  Alexandra, Erica, Celine, Julia, Anne Marie, Ila– too many to count. Female emotions splayed via texts.

My heart palpitated as I expected him to arrive any moment. My desire to peek was countered by a fear of being discovered; ironic, as it was he who had been uncovered.

Time passed without his return. I took notes in an attempt to put it all together. Perplexed since I had been there almost every night for the past month. When, where, how?  Many of the texts were waning from previous encounters that seemed once regular.

Ila “You are the only man I love. If only we could be together. Why don’t you respond.”

Julia “You are mia.” “Where are you?” “We weren’t safe last night. I am worried . . . ” “FIne. I get it. You have a girlfriend now.” (I question as to where this came from as I still withhold any terms)

Erica “Laying in bed thinking of you” “Had a great time last night”

2am one evening, Alexandra Hustler “Can I bring Celine too? Another “$300 right?”

Anne-Marie “His tuition is due tomorrow- $22,000”

“Congratulations on your award”- from quite a few.

Erica 6am Memorial Day Weekend “I am at terminal 3 waiting. Just landed.” He had flown the company jet separately. Ancient texts show this trip long planned.

 

And then he arrives. 11:30. His eyes red. I say nothing. I smile. He starts. Amazing how much one will say when not asked. . .

To be continued . .

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