Check Mate, You just made Your first Wrong Move

When I arrived at my little piece of heaven, Michael' car was parked outside. He was waiting for me. Another lesson was learned this evening. Do not ever reveal your hand. When people know your weaknesses, they will attack you at your weakest moment.

I had told Michael about Killer's birthday. I had told him that I had no intention of going. But that day, Killer laid the guilt card on me and I backed down. I had not had a chance to tell Michael as I had been in training all day and I went straight from work to the Knight Cap restaurant to meet Killer.

Michael had been trying to get a hold of me. He had developed this habit, if I did not respond within the time frame he thought was reasonable, he would start looking for me.  He usually started by driving by Killer's house.  It wasn't that far from his.

He drove by Killer's house that night and noticed the car was gone. Knowing that we always celebrated significant occasions at the Knight Cap in downtown Lansing, he drove there next.

I worked downtown and parked in a garage six blocks from my office. If Michael came looking for me during the day, he couldn't see my car unless he paid to drive around the parking garage trying to locate my car.  Trust me, there would come a day that he did just this.

He saw my car, parallel parked in front of the Knight Cap and close to it, Killer's BMW. He felt betrayed that I would "lie" to him about having dinner with Killer.  He drove to my apartment and he waited for my return.

When I pulled up I was happy to see him. I don't know why. I really just wanted to be alone, but Michael energized me. He got out of his car and walked towards me. "Where have you been?" The tone was similar to Killer's  when he wanted to assert his authority over me. Perhaps I misunderstood this tone that I was hearing.  I was a bit shaken and stirred at the moment.

I told Michael the events of the day. Killer played the guilt card and I fell for it. I had not called him as I made this decision at the end of the day and headed out to meet him after work.  Inside, I was already churning from dinner with Killer, but Killer was put on the back burner for a  moment as Michael stood before me speaking with an accusatory tone that I was not familiar with from him.

Did I owe him an explanation of my every move? Was I obligated to call him every time I spoke to Killer? I had been very open up to this point.  I thought he'd understand having been divorced himself that this was a work in progress for me. I thought that he would understand that you don't leave some one you've been married to one day and move on to the next relationship without mourning the loss you had.

No matter whether you were the one who left or someone left you, you experienced a period of mourning. A loss. A feeling of failure. Wasn't this normal for all humans? Had he not experienced this himself after fourteen years of marriage when his wife walked out on him for another man?

We entered the nest and I took my dinner and put it in the refrigerator. Michael noticed the lights were flashing on my answering machine. "You have messages." I acknowledged that I did and inside I assumed they were from Killer.  If they had been from Michael, I doubt he would have pointed this out.  He would have just told me he had left me several messages worried of my whereabouts.

He asked me if I was going to play them.  No. I would do it later.  Michael had heard messages from Killer, how they would range from undying love to threatening my life. Now was not the time to inflict more pain on either of us. I'd wait until I was alone and listen to them in private.  I never knew what Killer was going to say.  Often he would leave messages describing what a dirt bag Michael was and he didn't need to hear anything derogatory about himself from a man who was jealous of him. That would just be mean and I was not a mean person.  I considered others feelings and I thought about how my actions would effect their heart. Wasn't this apparent as I was still trying to soothe Killer's broken heart.

As I stood in the kitchen, Michael lost his mind. He hit the play button on my answering machine. Killer's voice loud and very clear that he was upset that I would not have dinner with him.  Accusing me of sleeping with the enemy and calling me every thing again except a young white woman.

His next message was three hundred and sixty degrees.  Apologizing for being upset and saying such hurtful things to me, begging me to forgive him, proclaiming his love for me. An hour or two later, he had left another message about how callous I was to not return his call and let him know whether I was going to have dinner with him.  

He had called the office.  I was in meetings all day.  We did not have voice mail back then so little pink slips had been piling up on my desk all day requesting I call him yet I had not been to my desk until near closing time and I saw all the messages.  I called Killer then and told him I would meet him. But while he waited for that particular call, he was tearing up my answering machine with the real messages he wanted to leave that day with the receptionist.

I quickly came over to shut the machine off. I did not want to hear these messages right now, hell, I didn't really want to hear them at all, but I would listen to each painful message that he left and either cry my heart out at the hatred that dripped from the message or secretly smile remembering just how sweet Killer could be when he wanted some thing.

Micheal hit the play button again. Who was this man? I could not believe he was being so rude and controlling.  This was not like him. He started pacing in my little nest.  Accusing me of seeing Killer behind his back.  How many times had I met him without Michael's knowledge? 

He had to be kidding me. He was standing before me, questioning me on my actions and accusing me of hiding something from him? Was this really happening in my little piece of heaven?

He didn't understand, I was not in a good place at the moment having just left Killer and dealing with that ticking time bomb and here he stood before me, invading my privacy, questioning my decisions but more so, following me, tracking me just like Killer had.

Apparently he thought because it was late, he was welcomed to stay the night. He started to unbutton his shirt and remove his shoes. I suggested he not do that. My insides were boiling at this point, but I could not let him see how angry I was. At this point, I really was not sure who I was angry at. Killer for still controlling me, Michael for disrespecting my privacy or myself for allowing it to happen.

In a very mild voice, I told him he should go, I wanted to be alone. Who wouldn't at this point? My world was still shattered and this one little piece that I thought was a safe haven had revealed its true self to me.

No one can hide from who they really are. A snake cannot change its skin. It can modify its behavior but eventually it will raise its ugly head and hiss, exposing its deadly venom. You had to know when to stop and turn away or cut its head off with a machete. I chose to walk away that night. 

Michael left. His head lowered as I think he realized  he had just made his first wrong move in this game of life between us.