The blood started oozing out and Chandler realized that it was worse than she had thought. She had been grading papers all night, in hopes of finishing before three in the morning so that she could get a few hours of well-needed sleep.
The last paper had barely clipped her left ring finger. This had left her with droplets of blood dripping down into the palm of her hand. It was already past midnight and the last thing she needed was to lose her train of thought by leaving her desk to seek medical attention for herself.
Annoyed by her clumsiness, she hastily stood up in hopes of finding a Band-Aid and peroxide in the bathroom down the hall. Because she had been sitting at her desk for hours on end, the abrupt action of getting to her feet caused her vision to turn black for a few moments.
She regained her posture and headed for the door, dragging her feet. Her eyes wandered away for a moment as she felt the coolness of the doorknob in the grasp of her palm. Her vision came to Torno, her cat, as he was dangerously pawing at the diamond ring that was left alone on the coffee table in the center of the room.
Looking at her cut finger, tears welled up in Chandler's eyes as she was filled with guilt, yet again. She had the unusual need to take it off every night, as if she could get away from the lie for just a few hours of the day. It seemed as if it was a nuisance to slide the silver piece on every day, and nausea filled her to the brim whenever she had the nerve to look down on her hand as she was wearing it.
It was not that Chandler did not love Simon because she did! She kept trying to convince herself that it was because the ring was two sizes too big and she was afraid of losing it. To her, simply just the ring size was a sign that the relationship was to be broken in the end.
Everything about Simon was perfect. He was an orthopedic surgeon who, even with the busy hospital schedule, managed his time well enough to sit down and have lunch with Chandler almost every day. Whenever he was going to be more than three minutes late anywhere, he always called, keeping Chandler from worrying. He always kept his work life separate from his home life.
He was good in bed; better than anyone Chandler had ever slept with, which said a lot. He ignored the faulty actions of her past, but any mention of ex-boyfriends led to a painful look in his eyes. He trusted her; enough to suppress suspicions as she traveled days at a time for writing conventions.
To top it off, he even had a good name; a fitting name. Simon Carlton.
Chandler Carlton. She mouthed to herself, thinking it had a bit of a ring to it.
However, Chandler was a poorly paid English teacher at the public high school just around the corner. She could not remember the last time that she ate lunch with Simon without a piece of paper in front of her tightly gripping a red marking pen in her right hand. Even when she got home after an eight hour work day, she still managed to have numerous papers to grade.
I should marry the maker of Adderall she half-jokingly thought to herself, as she looked at her desk overflowing with papers.
She could not count the number of her sexual partners, never mind all of the names. She did not intend to lead such a promiscuous past. Whenever she spoke to anyone of the opposite sex, and occasionally even with the same sex, she found herself flirting. It did not matter whether she liked the person, thought they were physically attractive, or even if she knew them; she simply just enjoyed the attention that she received in return.
Chandler retraced her steps back to her desk, forgetting why she ever even stood up in the first place. As she sat down, she reached into her purse and retrieved the Adderall that was sitting on top. She then popped two into her mouth and sighed with a hint of relief.
Just when she thought that a long night of grading papers was before her, she jumped at the sound of the faint murmur of knocking that came from the door.
“You need sleep, baby.” Simon's voice muffled through the thick wood “Come to bed, please. Your appointment for the wedding dress fitting is tomorrow. I'm sure you want it to be a memorable experience and not something you want to be exhausted for.”
Chandler had forgotten about the activities for the day to come. She had not had a chance to glance at her planner in the midst of her grading. She grabbed her phone to see the time and she noticed her reflection staring back at her in the Blackberry screen. The phone had been a gift to her, from Simon, to replace the old brick she had been using. This thought kept her mind running and the guilt became intense and painful. In seeing the dark circles outlining the bags under her eyes and her famished image, she knew that the reason was stress. Stress from work as well as stress from her guilt.
“It's too big.” Chandler spoke slowly and just loud enough that Simon heard a voice. He carefully opened the door and repeated the importance for her need to sleep.
In mid-sentence, he saw the ring on the ground now. Torno had lost interest in the priceless item and had moved his attention to a paperclip not too far away.
“What's wrong?” he lowered his voice making it almost impossible to distinguish whether he was more worried or angry, “Why is your ring on the floor?”
He walked over the stacks of papers that covered the ground, and picked up the item that he believed brought Chandler so much joy. He carried it back over and placed it on the desk in front of her.
“It's too big” she repeated annoyed that he did not understand her the first time.
Sighing with relief, he offered to take the ring to the local jewelry store the next day.
After a few moments, Simon realized that she was not replying or feeling any better. He knew something serious, something big, was bothering her deeply. He questioned of himself whether to remain silent or not.
After a few more moments of deathly awkward silence that seemed like hours, she managed to force some words out of her mouth.
“I hate your wife” she blurted out the words so fast, he did not have anytime to register what she had said, “That is what they are going to say to you.’I hate your wife.' All of your friends despise me as well as your family. They only want wealthy snobs to associate with them. There are even times when I see a bit of them in you.”
Realizing she did not mean the last statement, whatsoever, she stopped.
“I'm sorry.”
It was not fair to him, she thought, to end this relationship and pinpoint him to be the culprit. She had ended it seven months prior, but had just acquired the strength to tell him so in the past three minutes. The guilt had become too unbearable and painful.
“I'm pregnant.”
The confusion on his face evolved into unbelief. Chandler looked up and saw that he had the beginnings of a smile.
Now, for the hard part she thought to herself as her anxiety worsened.
“Why didn't you tell me?! I knew your emotions and mood swings were fluctuating more than normal, but I just thought it was stress! This is great! When exactly did you find out?! Should you even be on your medicine?” he rambled on as she tuned him out.
Chandler looked down on the paper, the paper that served as a reminder to her. She started writing down the words that were filled with so much fear and guilt.
Noticing that Chandler was not replying in the least bit to any of his questions, he looked to see what was so important that she was working on. He thought that they should celebrate and wanted her to get her mind off of work, for once.
It took him a while to interpret that the words that she was writing on the page were directed towards him. Once this registered in his mind, he was filled with fury and slammed his fist on the desk, which caused Torno to jump and scatter out of the room.
“You are that completely hateful?! Not only do you have the ignorance to do this disgusting act, but then you don’t even have enough decency to say it out loud!?”
On the paper, Chandler had written the five words that had so much destruction within. 'It might not be yours.'
Simon, building more on his anger, looked Chandler in the eye and sneered, “I at least have the right to know, who? Who is so damn special?! Oh, right. It does not matter of whether you have even the slightest bit of interest in a person. You sleep with complete strangers. You know, there is a way you can get paid for that! And you don't even have to break someone's heart in the process. It's called prostitution. I really should have listened to my family and friends because they were completely right about you,” catching his breath, he asked yet again, “Now, who is this forsaken being that may have to be involved with you for the rest of his life?”
She knew that he would not be leaving without an answer. She muttered the words so quietly that it was almost inaudible, “Bryan McPherson”
“Hmm, just another one of your one night stands, I presume? I can't even imagine what it would be like if I actually married a woman like you! You better pray to God that it’s not mine. There is no way I will be the father of any child of yours. You're so-so--” Simon could not finish his sentence. No words described just how horrible he believed Chandler was.
Chandler slid the paper that had been sitting in front of her for the past thirty minutes, which seemed like years, in front of him. It was the paper that held the unforgiving five words. Simon looked down in unbelief, thinking she had the nerve to write more.
Nothing else in red ink was written. Nothing in the familiar handwriting, that at one point he loved. Now, he hated it; he hated anything that involved her, or even women in general.
Just as he was about to look back up, he saw the black, Times New Roman print that bordered the top of the page. The name looked familiar.
Bryan McPherson
Realization took over his whole face and no words came out of his mouth.
Chandler lifted out of her seat and uttered, “Here's your ring” as she extended her arm.
Simon shook his head at the sight of it, “Keep it. You will need a miracle worker of a lawyer to help you. I believe that it is going to be a little hard to explain why a 29 year old high school teacher is questioning whether she is pregnant with her eleventh grade student.”
He then turned around and as he headed for the door, he felt the strange mixture of freedom and pain come before him. As he got out of the vicinity of the woman who had crushed his heart, he was sure of his decision.
