I felt guilty because what we were doing was wrong, but it also felt so right.
I liked a guy who had a girlfriend, but didn't want to stay away.
It started with plastic forks. I came into work on my day off to indulge in ameal of sausage and peppers; however, it seems that I indulged in a little more than just lunch.
With wondering eyes, I spotted a man whom I've never seen before during the few short months that I've been working here. Curious to find out who he was, I asked my dad hoping to gain some information. I got nothing.
Taking matters into my own hands, I made it known that I had no fork for my plate of food. You can imagine how thankful I was when Mr. Hottie jumped at the opportunity to take me to where the forks were hiding.
Giving my dad a sly smile, I walked away with the mystery man in what then was merely a simple introductory meeting.
A few months passed. I hadn't thought about him and didn't look for him on my days at work either. I didn't necessarily forget about him; I just didn't pursue it even though I knew where to find him.
Call it coincidence, but one Saturday evening as I was home recovering from a wicked "too many shots of tequila" hangover from a work event the night before, fate decided to have a little playtime.
Having thrown my cell phone out a window the previous night (tequila is the reason for that idiotic move), I called my mother at work to grab a phone number. She told me there was a group of really cute guys at the bar and I was missing out. She then paused to tell me that one had a girlfriend.
Now, call me crazy, but have you ever had a gut feeling and knew what the person was going to say before they actually say it? Well, that's what happened to me. My mom, being the creeper that she is, had the guy's credit card for the tab and began reading me the name: "Andrew Whit—" I cut her off and started shouting, "That's the hot guy from work I told you about!"
When my mom came home from work that night, she dished out the details of how she basically blew up my spot to Mr. Hottie. She told me how when she told him that she was my mom, he fell all over himself in shock and kept telling her "how hot I was."
My mom insisted that during the week while I was at work, he would try to look for me. And leave it to mom to be right. However, because my new position at work had moved me upstairs, the likelihood of him finding me was, well... slim to none. Come Friday I decided to look for him — and that's where it all started.
Fifteen minutes on the elliptical and my phone vibrated with an unfamiliar number on the screen. I open it to see a text message reading, "Where has my carrier pigeon been? I think she's lost." My heart dropped. I stumbled a bit on the elliptical as I dialed my mom's number.
"MOM! Andrew just texted me," I shouted into the phone. "I'm freaking out! How did he get my number!?" The next morning, the conversation between Andrew and I continued all through the workday. We flirted here and there, all while knowing that he was in relationship.
I'm not sure what exactly drew me to him when we first met over plastic forks. He was genuinely a nice guy; I didn't just want to believe that he was in a relationship. We engaged in flirtatious chitchat but I figured maybe they were in rough patch. Our back and forth witty conversations created a certain tension between us that wasn't easy to ignore.
One afternoon, as we were sitting across the table from each other in his shop during lunch, I was chomping away on my carrots and laughing at the conversation around us. I felt his fiery gaze on me. Every time I glanced up, his eyes were burning through mine to the point where I felt myself getting hot. I couldn't even break the gaze if I wanted to.
He decided to walk me halfway back to my office. The entire time, we were laughing and play hitting each other — basic flirting with underlying emotions.
We came to the end of hallway and stopped to talk some more. The usual fidgeting we exhibited during our chitchats was more obvious now, matching our unbreakable eye contact. Within a second, everything around us became obsolete.
He looked into my eyes, differently than he previously had. He lifted his right arm and placed his hand the left side of my cheek. I stood still, heart racing, anxiously anticipating what was going to happen next. As his face became less than inch away from mine, I closed the space and our lips finally touched.
The electricity was heightened. We pushed each other closer and tighter, then farther and closer again. Against the maroon work walls we danced, sweating and passionate with the taste of each other.
Everyday after that became more and more like a game of forbidden fruit. Except — unlike Paradise Lost — Adam went for the apple first and Eve followed suit. Our makeout sessions intertwined with anticipated sexual attraction became intensified. Pulling away from each other became just as difficult as waiting to be near each other.
On social media we were not friends but that didn't stop the game of liking and then un-liking each others photos on purpose, to let one another know we were thinking about each other.
It was even getting to the point of posting our location on our photos, as a sly way of letting one another know where we were in case of an "accidental" pop-up.
The attraction was becoming such a heavy pull that it became all I thought about. Until one weekend, when things went from 0 to 100 really f*cking quickly.
During a Saturday of errands with my girl, we were at the mall about to finish up and started thinking about lunchtime plans. Andrew's Instagram name had popped up on my phone, and knowing what that meant, I clicked on his page and saw that he was at my mom's bar.
Already planning on heading there for some afternoon Merlot and salads, I decided to let him know I was en route to avoid any problems. As we walked into the bar, I watched his face drop with a slight smile in his eye. Nauseatingly-excited was basically my emotion in a nutshell.
My girlfriend and I took seats facing the wall a little ways away from him but that didn't stop his penetrating gaze from reaching mine. Each time he looked at me, he would mouth "I hate you" and sexily smile. Melting I was.
I mouthed to him to come over and say hi. When he did, the fidgeting escalated and the redness in our faces matched the heat we felt under our clothes. When he turned toward the bathroom, my girlfriend said to me, "Oh my God, you two are pathetic. He really likes you."
After a group of his friends left, it was just he and one friend. We all hung out and enjoyed drinks. He and I stood close together, occasionally smirking and exchanging our usual and playful "I hate you's."
He was distracted and on his phone veraciously typing, I asked if everything was OK and his response was, "OMG that's my girlfriend." She didn't come into the bar but she was outside and he followed after her.
I felt guilty because what we were doing was wrong, but it also felt so right. When he came back in, he explained to me that they had been arguing and he couldn't understand why he didn't care that she wanted to pack her things from his house and break up with him.
Unfortunately, he needed to leave to handle the situation but not without a very caught-off-guard kiss goodbye — on the lips, in public, in his hometown.
The next day we talked via DM and he came to visit me at my gym. We sat in his car and talked for a while. When I opened the door to leave his car we kissed and I walked away.
"He has a girlfriend, you f*cking slut!"
I turned around confused, but then it registered. His girlfriend and her friends had pulled up next to his car and she was screaming at him. I felt sick.
That night he messaged me apologizing for putting me in this situation. He told me how his heart broke for me when her friends were calling me out. I told him that I was the last person he should be thinking about after what happened.
I went to bed that night feeling disgusted but not regretting anything. A girl who I didn't even know got her heart broken and I had something to do with it. A part of me felt broken, too. I hadn't realized how much I cared about this guy and I knew he would make things right with his girlfriend, because he was a good guy and wanted to do the right thing.
The next day at work we met and he apologized profusely but was so torn with his emotions. He told me that he felt heartbroken for destroying her but he also didn't know if he made a mistake. And then he kissed me.
Things were messy over the next few days. Eventually, when I realized he was going to do the right thing by her, I took myself out of the equation despite how hard it was. Realistically, I shouldn't have been upset over something I never had, but you can't help who you like right?
He met me at the wrong time in his life, even if it felt right for me. I can't blame him for not wanting to let go of the "sure" for the "unsure." You only look outside of your relationship if there's something missing, but many choose to be complacent for fear of loneliness.
He sent me a text message shortly after:
"I really hope you find somebody that loves the sh*t out of you, because I really think you're an amazing girl and you have more to offer than a lot of girls that I have met. I don't want you wasting your time on these assh*le guys. You're a very intelligent girl so you won't have that problem, I just don't want to have to beat anyone up for messing with my friend. My advice to you is never forget what you have to offer because you're a catch."
It was our last person-to-person encounter. After that text, there was a no eye contact or sincere attempts to express how we felt.
What I learned from being the other woman is that it's possible to meet the right person at the wrong time, but it's what you do with the experience afterward that lets fate work its wonders.
This article was originally published at lorensaidwhat.wordpress.com. Reprinted with permission from the author.