You don’t want to be the other woman. You’re not that scandalous. You may be a lot of things, but becoming the other woman wasn’t at the top of your list. In fact, you’d condemned all the famous mistresses. You were quick to criticize the Monica Lewinsky’s and Carmen Joneses of the world.
That was until you met Justin Timberlake. It doesn’t hurt that he’s beautiful, but the person that he is on the inside is what really got you. He’d listen to you gripe about people and shit that he didn’t know about, when your boyfriend just didn’t give a fuck.
The way he looks into your eyes when you speak “ he makes you feel like you’re the only person in the room. You love his effortless style; the way his shit just falls into place so perfectly... like that damn smile of his.
His charisma captured you, just like every other bitch in the world. But the only difference is that he’s not alluring you through a television screen. He’s there, in the flesh, enticing you with his words, made just for your ears.
You knew about him and Cameron. You even thought they were cute together before you met him a year ago. But when y’all started hanging out during the tour, and you got to know him, you had to ignore the fact that she existed.
It had been so long since you’d gotten some that you figured just one time wouldn’t hurt. But then, it was so good “ or you were so lonely “ that you kept going back for more.
You like to pretend that you’re totally in control of the situation. You know that you can have any man in the world “ except the one you want -- so you play with his mind. You figure it’s some kind of payback for fucking with your heart. You don’t understand why he keeps coming back if he doesn’t feel the same. He can’t be purely pussy-whipped.
But you don’t want to hear the truth. You don’t want to hear that all your fears are coming true “ that she’s who he loves, and you’re just who he fucks. You know it, but hearing it just might break you. And if there’s on thing Laura Rossi doesn’t do, it’s break.
He’s looking at you, and you’re staring at him. You can’t see his eyes, because he has one of his signature fedoras strategically dipped below one eye. That, alone, tells you that he’s more complex than he’d like you to believe. His jaw is clenched “ he’s obviously tense. He hasn’t said a word in the past five minutes.
“Maybe you should go,” you finally relent.
He looks in your direction, but you can tell he’s not looking at you. “I think we should talk.”
“About?”
“Everything that’s happening right now.”
“Just pretend I never said it,” you retort. You’re hell-bent on not hearing what he has to say. “Just go.”
He walks up to you, grabs your hand, and pulls you through the room, right on out the door. The two of you traipse down to the lobby, to the valet stand where you wait for his car to resurface.
“What are you doing,” you finally question.
He has a tight grip on your forearm. “We’re going to talk.”
You try to wrestle from his grasp. “I don’t want to talk. I wanna go home.”
“Laura, stop it. We’re gonna talk if it kills us.”
“I’m gonna kill you if you don’t let me go.”
“Do you wanna fix this, or not?” he yells. As his silver Viper pulls up, he drags you around to the passenger side and throws you in the car.
You don’t bother to fight it anymore because you do want to fix it. You’re scared to, but you do.
“First of all,” he says, after piling into the car, “Are you really pregnant?”
You tilt your head to the window and look at him from the corner of your eye. “No.”
He nods in understanding. “Why are you like that?”
“Like what,” you shoot back.
“Why do you lie and manipulate people?”
You don’t really know, so you lie again. “Because I can.”
“Laura,” he sighs loudly.
“Justin, you of all people should know the answer to that. We do what we have to do to satisfy ourselves.”
“You make it sound like it’s okay.”
“If you don’t look out for you, then who will?” you reply quickly. “This isn’t a fucking game.”
“Then stop playing with me!” he exclaims. “Stop trying to compete with the world and be real. Can you do that for me?”
You stare at him momentarily, watching him drive the streets of L.A. like he owns them. It was very rare for you to be in a car with him “ with clothes on, anyway. It intrigues you to see how his driving is so much like his personality “ fast, but cautious, even lethal at times. But he was controlled.
“Okay, what do you want me to say?” you ask.
“Is everything that you said true? About wanting more from me?”
“This may sound strange coming from me,” you admit, “But I love you.”
“No you don’t,” he dismisses.
“Yes, I do. I am capable of loving someone, you know.”
“I’m not saying that. But I mean, how?”
“I ask myself that every fucking day, and I’ve yet to come up with a plausible answer.”
“So then ““
You interrupt him because you start thinking and can’t stop. “Maybe it’s because you listen to my dreams and appreciate my aspirations. Maybe because I seek comfort in you when someone else mishandles my heart. Maybe because you’re the first and only man I’ve been able to trust since my father died and I’m scared to let you move on without me. Or maybe it’s just because you’re the only man that’s even acted as if something other than my ass interested him. Maybe that’s why I keep setting myself up for disappointment and praying that you’ll see me for who I am. I’m not some coldhearted bitch that thinks being bad is a good reason for all these trysts. Nor am I some ego-driven whore that believes she’s only saving you from the terrible person that your precious Cameron really is. I know that she’s wonderful. I know that she’s better for you than I’ll ever be. But the fact remains Justin, that I love you. From the first words you spoke to me, to the last touch of your hand, I love you boy. You had me at the fucking ‘Hi, how you doin’?’ And I’ve been working overtime to hide that shit ever since.” You can feel the tears threatening to find your cheeks and it scares the hell out of you because letting other people see you cry is out of the question, so you stop talking.
“Laura, I’m speechless.”
“I’ve said way too much,” you whisper. “Just… Can you take me home please?”
“I’m sorry,” he starts.
“Just don’t say anything. Please.” Your eyes desperately cling to the passing scenery of The Strip and you wonder why the hell you just poured your heart out - especially when you know he’ll never feel the same.
“Can I be honest with you for a second?” His voice is grainy and weak, and you know that everything you’ve just said has scared the shit out of him.
“If you must.”
“Well I’d be lying right now if I said I didn’t think you were absolutely beautiful. And I’d be lying if I told you that I didn’t have feelings for you.”
“But what,” you interject.
“But Cameron is where my heart is. Laura, you’re one of a kind, I swear “ one of the baddest bitches I’ve ever met,” he laughs. “But that’s it. That’s all I see. I can’t see you. I can only see through you. Cameron lets me inside her heart. She shows me another way. She’s unconventional and unique, and that’s something you never let me see. Why do we only have a physical relationship? Because that’s all you give me. How do you expect me to give up myself when you’re not willing to do the same? Let down the walls Laura. Let go of the warrior façade. Show me your soul.” He stops in front of your apartment building, but continues to talk. “Laura, look at me.”
You turn to him and let him see all the pain that you’d never allow anyone to know you have. You let him see the emotions that other people don’t think you can feel. You let him in on the vulnerability that no one ever believed you could encompass. You let him know that he knows more about you than anyone ever has, or ever will. You let him in on you.
His features soften from a frown to confusion. You can tell that he’s just as shocked as you are to be in the middle of this conversation.
“You probably thought my tear ducts were frozen, huh?” You chuckle, wiping the sadness away.
He smiles slightly. “I wish I could hear the sound of your laugh more often.”
“Don’t get all soft on me now,” you joke. You’re not in a joking mood, but you don’t like where the conversation has gone.
“I think maybe we should work on just being friends,” he finally proclaims.
You nod grimly, because in your heart, you know that that means goodbye. “I’d like that.”
“I’ll call you next week or something,” He kisses you on the cheek as if you’re someone he just met five minutes ago. And then, realizing that he did, you offer a smile before slowly retreating from the car.
Your heart is heavy because you know that that one little peck would be forever etched in your memory. You know that when he drives through the gates of your complex and back through his own, that he’ll be going back to her.
You can’t even get mad at him because you know it’s only right. You know that Cameron is better at loving him that you’d ever even attempt to. You’re too selfish to love him the way he deserves - the way he’s loved you from afar.
You liked being the other woman for a while. Truth be told, there is something good about being bad. Things seem to only turn out bad when you’re good.
You loved him, so you let him go. You don’t resent it, or even regret it. You’re content knowing that he’ll laugh with her, cry with her, smile with her “ all the things he never did with you. He’ll be happy with her. He’ll be a better man with her. And he deserves it for inspiring you to be a better woman.
You don’t even wonder if he’ll tell her about you. He’s too good a person not to. You’re the reason he became toxic. She’ll be able to straighten him out. She’ll turn him back into the Justin that you fell for.
You miss him before you even make it out of the elevator and onto your floor. You walk down the hall to your apartment 808 and realize that you left your key, along with the rest of your stuff, at the hotel.
But you hear the television playing and the smell of cigarette smoke coming from your place, so you knock on the door loudly, waiting for your husband to answer.
You’ll walk in there as if nothing is wrong. You’ll act like you really just came home for a lunch break from work. He’ll never know that in a matter of hours, you managed to fall completely in love and have your heart broken. Your husband will never know that, in your heart, he’s the other man. You’ll never tell him about Justin “ even if he finds out. Telling anyone about your relationship would ruin the mystery and the magic. You only want to smile when you think of Justin. And you hope that he'll smile when he thinks of the beautiful disaster the two of you had become.
The End
Completed
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