#bro IM SO SFDHKJF???

[joshusten]

oh my god.

The Pursuit of Catharsis

Pairing : Guy/Honey

Tags : Infidelity, Angst, Hurt no Comfort, Post-Divorce, Guy cheated on Honey and they both had a divorce, DILF Guy, Screenwriter Guy, Moving On Themes

Word Count : 1,453

ao3

How to Heal after a Cheating Spouse 

Betrayal from a loved one would cause a mix of emotions unlike any other: vitriol, grief, disappointment. In this column, relationship counselor C. Pardalis details the steps needed to move on. 

The first ever step that nobody ever wants to hear is forgiveness. Forgiveness isn’t done for your spouse’s sake- neither does it mean that you have to maintain a relationship with them. It’s about making peace with the pain of the past and moving forward. 

Honey closed all the tabs in their browser and shut down the laptop. Every website said the same thing- to forgive, forget, and be the bigger person. Pain simmered in the hollow of their chest. They stared around themselves and noted the take-out boxes on the table. Abandoned laundry piled high on top of the dining room chair- how’d it even get there?

The room could use some cleaning. They were expecting a guest, after all. 

In thirty minutes, Guy will arrive at the front door- as if he’s a visitor and not someone who’d lived in the complex for the past twenty years. Had they been younger- had they cared more, they probably would’ve been angrier. Tossed all of his things when they found out- when they saw the mark on the side of his neck, the pair of tickets for a vacation they didn’t book, the foreign smell of cologne sticking in the inside of his jacket. But they didn’t- and instead held onto his things for him to pick up after the divorce had been finalized. Time flew in the blink of an eye and papers were signed.

They’re older. Possibly wiser- but they think they’re just tired of it all. Or maybe they were looking for an excuse to get out of the relationship, anyway. It didn’t matter anymore. Honey quickly folded and put away the laundry in a mechanical way, their hands moved faster than their mind could catch up. 

Honey looked at the inside of their closet- a row of newer, sleek designer clothing came into view. They bit the inside of their cheek as they decided on what to wear. They came a long way ever since they began dating him- no longer the college student living in cramped, shared dorms, but someone with a sizable enough salary to afford some luxuries. 

Of course, that was nothing compared to Guy the best-selling author, award-winning screenwriter. Everything had its costs, they supposed. They hated to admit it- but they should’ve seen it coming. The success- the downfall. The way it crashed and burned for them.

Try dating yourself, the article said. Make an effort to treat yourself well and find confidence like how you would a partner. 

They picked a matching set- a navy-blue, cashmere suit and jacket. Honey looked at themself in the mirror and saw signs of aging. They also saw the bags under their eyes from sleepless nights. Nothing some concealer couldn’t fix. They straightened their jacket and fastened a watch to their wrist. 

There’s nothing to prove, Honey reminded themself. But they knew that it was a lie. They spritzed perfume on the inside of their neck. They were dressed as if they were going somewhere-when ten minutes ago, they were lounging in their sleepwear, unable to get themselves out of bed. They wanted to look like they were doing well. Unaffected. Like the twenty years that went down the drain meant nothing to them. 

If Guy wanted to sleep around- then so be it. They’re a prize that he’d regret not treasuring. 

Honey straightened their posture and twisted their defeated expression into something more neutral. It didn’t last long, as they sighed and went back to their sagged shoulders and hurt, pathetic gaze. They’d play the part when he’s here. It’s exhausting to keep up the facade when they felt nothing but confident, around them remnants of what used to be. 

Their wedding ring sat in the same drawer they kept their watches. They should pawn it off soon. 

Focus on personal development. Improve yourself and stick to a routine. It’s easy to fall into a rut when grieving the ending of a relationship, especially due to your partner’s mistake. 

Honey was the healthiest they’d ever been- yet it’s the worst they’ve ever felt. They go on runs in the crack of dawn and hike on the weekends. They’ve tried everything an acai-bowl eating, veganism-practicing LA native would do: pilates, yoga, hot yoga, crossfit. The post-exercise endorphins would soothe them momentarily, but soon the grief of it all would crash into them like a wave against the cliffs and they stood, heaving on the floor like an animal.

It’s ironic how they were the happiest when they would barely sleep and eat anything that they could afford at the time- which wasn’t much. When Guy would excitedly bring pizza for dinner when they knew that he’d pay for them out of his own paycheck. He’d say that he made it especially for them, and the worst part was that it was true. He put onions because he knew they liked them when he didn’t- put up with the horrors of pineapple on pizza when he found it disgusting. 

Honey swallowed and fought the incoming tears. Fuck. 

A series of knocks echoed through the apartment and they straightened themself. A picture of serenity and composure. The door swung to reveal the person they’ve been dreading. 

“Hey,” he greeted, somewhat hesitant. He had the nerve to look sorry. Anger boiled in their stomach and took purchase in their diaphragm as Honey dissected the man in front of them. 

At forty-five, he was definitely still attractive, the half-up, salt-and-pepper hair and unshaved stubble giving him an air of aged wisdom. But Honey just thought that he looked weary, the well-tailored, expensive suit doing a good job of hiding his defeated sort of pride. They have that in common.

It’s been a difficult year. 

“Your things are in the boxes near the couch. I packed them so you can just take them away,” they said, curt and flat. 

“Okay,” he replied, tight-lipped. They could feel the sadness emanating from him- it reminded them of the night of the confrontation- when he broke down and said that they should leave, because they deserved better. And they do, they like to believe that they do. But why is it so hard?

“Your books and CDs- the Star Trek merch is over there, too.” 

“Thanks,” Guy muttered. And the two of them stood in a suffocating silence. 

“I don’t resent you, by the way,” Honey said, the words practiced, their back turned from him against the backdrop of the city lights from the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

“Really.” It was rhetorical, not a question but more of an ironic statement. 

Guy gave a weak laugh, like it’s a private joke only he understood. After signing one movie deal after the next, He’s somehow rougher on the edges now, as if any form of gentleness that remained in him was no longer. “I don’t deserve you,” he said, grief-stricken and still as earnest as ever, and Honey could feel the twist of a knife in their stomach. 

The article repeated itself in their mind. The first ever step that nobody ever wants to hear is forgiveness. 

Fuck that, Honey thought as they tried to hold themself together. Fuck that article. Fuck Guy. Fuck him and his ambitions and the pains of his past for taking the one thing they ever cared about. 

What if they don’t want to forgive? What if the pain was so unbearable- it wasn’t like this was a mistake that could be fixed with a good, healthy lifestyle and breathing exercises. Twenty years. Twenty years of seeing him, soft and gentle, yet unrelenting in the pursuit of his dreams of becoming a writer. His hair brushed against their neck whenever he’d lean his head on their shoulder back in the movie nights they had in college. Him taking care of them whenever they’re sick and pissy about it. The late-night drives and the way he’d always have time for them no matter how busy he was.

The light that drained from his eyes, the exhaustion. The way he’d go home in the dead of night, drained and tired and burnt out. The stink of cigarettes and the alcohol under his breath. The articles, the tabloids, the rumors and how they insisted that he wouldn’t do it. He loved them too much to ever leave them for someone else. 

Honey collapsed into the floor as soon as Guy closed the door behind him. Heavy sobs wrecked through them as the night wrapped them in its embrace.