Lies, Secrets and Scandal

So, I mentioned this anonymous person in my Reflection post. I said there was a person that I wasn't ready to talk about, just yet.

Well, I am cleaning out my closet..so I have changed my mind.

Gimme a minute to think of a nick-name. I don't want to ruin his life. Or mine.
Let's call him The Beautiful One.

I met The Beautiful One a few years ago at a pool party. I was instantly attracted to him. He was handsome, and sexy. And he liked me. It was so obvious. Everyone noticed how we flirted with each other, but everyone just assumed that he was fucking with me. I thought so at first, because I just couldn't imagine what the hell he wanted with me. I pictured him dating beautiful women. Perfect women. And that, I was not.

We talked until the party was over. We were in a group, so the conversation remained pretty casual. Surface shit. Nothing too personal.

The next day, one of my friends mentioned something about The Beautiful One. She said that she noticed our attraction, but warned me that she was pretty sure he had a girlfriend.
"So what" I thought. That's her problem..not mine.

We ran into each other pretty regularly after that. It seems that he lived nearby, and was actually related to one of my acquaintances. Whenever The Beautiful One and I saw each other, it was on. I finally called him out about him having a girlfriend, and he said something really shitty about her...I remember telling him, that if he was my man and I ever heard that he said some shit like that, we would be done.

A few months later, I was coming home from work. The Beautiful One was visiting someone in my apartment complex. He was walking to his car. I stopped to talk. Not 5 minutes later, he dangles his hand thru my sunroof and says "Look." I looked at his hand and damn if there wasn't a shiny, gold wedding band on his finger.
Damn him.

I kinda kept him at arms length because of that. Yeah, we flirted, but I always reminded him that he had a wife at home. A year later, I would remind him that he had a wife and a baby.
One night, I saw him at a gathering of mutual friends, and reminded him of his "prior engagements"..he took his ring off in front of everyone and dropped it on the table. It tinged, tinged and tinged as it hit the table. It finally came to a rest.
"Now WHAT..?!?" he said.
I was shocked. Was that what he really wanted to say?
He had to love his wife.
Didn't he?

One night around 11pm, he stopped by my apartment. He was on his way in from having a few drinks. and he was with my friend.
My friend saw The Beautiful One head straight for my bed, and said that they were leaving. They wanted no parts of what was about to pop off. The Beautiful One laid across my bed. Clearly he was drunk. I decided, that I wanted no parts of it either. I told him to go home.
He got a little mad at me..he said that all these years, he was trying to get with me, and now was our chance, and I wanna be scared? I admitted that yes, I was scared. Not because of her..and not because of him, but because of myself.

Sometimes you hype shit up so much, that you only set yourself up to be disappointed. I felt like this was one of those times. I felt like all the shit we talk, and all the looks and everything that we do needed to stay right at that level. There was no need to take it any further.
Would I then become his Mistress? Fuck that. So really, what was the point? It was not that serious.

Situations similar to this happened a few times.
What does this man want from me? I always asked myself.
Why is he doing this?
I know. This is a test. As I always say, Everything is a test. And I was about to fail.
I was fighting demons. It became harder and harder to say no to him.
I keep telling myself, that I am not that girl.
I am not the girl that fucks someone's husband.
Not on purpose. Not knowingly. Not willingly. Not me.

On his birthday, in December, The Beautiful One went out drinking. He called me @1am saying he was on his way home from the bar. I told him (joking) to come get his birthday present. A few minutes, he was knocking on my door. Again, he came in, took his shoes off, and laid across my bed. He motioned for me to come lay beside him, and I did. After a few minutes of talking, he started trying to mack. I swear, I fought the good fight. But in the end, I lost.

I have not talked to him or seen him since. I have no need to. I don't want to.
This is just one of those secrets that I will keep to myself. I don't ever want anyone to know.
Yes, I had no business. Yes, I am fucked up. Yes, I am wrong.

I did it and I will own it in my own world. But that's it. It goes no farther than that.
I never want to see The Beautiful One again.