The Bachelorette Diaries – (Wk16, 2012)

Frank at last got me and asked I meet him at the Serena Hotel. I wanted to turn him down, but something told me to give the devil the satisfaction of thinking all was well.

I got to Serena first, earlier than usual.

I was still in office garb – a tailored black pantsuit, sling-back heels and a gold necklace. I sat stiffly studying the paintings on the walls (my resolve to act that way).

“Hello sweetheart,” Frank said leaning in for the kiss he thought he gonna get. I didn’t even flinch and he kissed me on the cheeks instead. Not that I offered.

“How have you been, sweetie,” he said as he sat down.

I must admit this – this was the hardest time of my life. Sitting with the person you loath, trying not to show it. I forced a smile and said, “Fine. Holding up.”

“You don’t look fine to me. Anything the matter.” Frank was not going to relent.

I was on the verge of storming out, but I was determined to stay the moment, pretend I was in a very bad dream and I would soon wake up.

“Shiri,” Frank said, reaching for my hand. Well, I did not squirm, nor pull it away. “I’ve been worried for you. I mean, your phone has been off since last week, I was always told you were away when I called you at the office. Tell me, what’s wrong, please. I’m here for you, if you need someone to…”

“Frank,” I cut him off. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“And why are you so aloof, so cold. Is there something you are not telling me? For God’s sake, you haven’t told me where the hell you have been and why your phone was off…”

That was it. He was trying to mark another territory. My eyes turned lips that formed the words ‘like you own me’. I looked at him in the eyes, blinked as though to clear fuzziness, thought of saying something so nasty but stopped myself.

A waiter appeared and I ordered red wine (unlike me – I don’t drink in public). Frank ordered Alvaro (unlike him – a whisky connoisseur).

Silence loomed over us until I decided to break it. I began to slowly poke and prod him for info about his life. My questions were slow, leading (and I could visualize his lawyer screaming ‘objection, your honour’) and very calculated.

All along I was watching him. His face contorted to a horrific expression of confusion and panic, blinking ad infinitum. I was getting into his nerves. Frank on the Spot!

Frank tried to concoct a story that even the blind could see was bull. After realizing that I was not buying and maybe I had hidden agenda he gave up and suggested that we leave. I was not through with him yet, but I could see that I had gotten to him. That was it.

After all I am a behavioural psychologist.

The first chapter of my revenge had just started. It was time I made Frank regret lying to me.

Copyright ©Elove Poetry, 2012.

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