A large part of me wanted to call her, talk to her, hear her side of the story. Find out what kinds of bullshit he’d been feeding her, then there was a small part that couldn’t bring myself to admit that what was happening was real. The desperation and hurt in her voice was familiar and I felt for her. I replayed her messages over and over until I couldn’t stomach anymore of the self-inflicted torture.
I guess he thought I’d never find out, about all the women, the lies, the infidelity, the betrayal. But like most men he got comfortable, got sloppy and undoubtedly got his ass busted.
From the beginning the relationship was a game of cat and mouse, I played hard to get mainly because he just wasn’t my type, but after months of a never-ending chase I gave in and decided there was something I liked about him. It wasn’t that he was overally fine or that he was swagged out like Victor Newman from Young and the Restless (as a matter of fact he was none of those things) that finally made me give in, it was the fact that he never asked anything of me and accepted me flaws and all. In knowing that, I relaxed my standards and allowed myself to feel. I just knew that this would be the one. After a short time I settled into my relationship and made one big mistake, I became complacent, I got too relaxed and let my guards down. One of the biggest mistakes a woman can make in any relationship is believing that she is exempt from being betrayed by her man.