Betrayal

We all wear masks and the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin.

― André Berthiaume

At four in the morning, Ted lay awake in bed, his hands behind his head, gazing at the ceiling as he wrestled with a question that had haunted him for weeks: how to reveal the truth to her. Tina, his closest friend, whom he had deceived, was enduring an immense sorrow. He recognized he had betrayed her trust. Ted understood he needed to muster the bravery to confess everything. Although he hadn’t had the decency to do the right thing when he was first confronted with the situation, he realized it was time to come clean. He knew it was too late to turn back, but he could no longer pretend. He had to be honest, fully aware that this decision would likely cost him her friendship forever.

They had been friends for a number of years. Tina had gone through the emotionally exhausting cycle of forming new relationships, experiencing breakups, and starting again multiple times. Just when she felt completely drained and on the verge of giving up on finding love, she met someone she believed to be the right man for her. Things were progressing well until one day, as often depicted in films, she left work early and returned home to discover him in bed with another woman. She called the police and reported him as an intruder, which resulted in he spending two nights in jail. Afterwards, she gathered all of his belongings—every gift he had given her and anything that reminded her of him—stacked them in the backyard, and set them ablaze as a sacrifice to the god of Hypocrisy. Over the flickering flames, she vowed never to get involved with men again—those slimy, repulsive, filthy, wretched, corrupt, perverse, despicable, crooked creatures—an embodiment of everything that is degraded in humanity.

     Ted had been married, had two sons, and ended up divorced. Like many, he had navigated the difficult terrain of unsuccessful romantic relationships. Worn out and cynical, he was on the verge of giving up hope when a new woman entered his life—someone he felt was worth another shot. Their romance seemed to be flourishing, or so he believed. He was even considering asking her to move in with him. However, one day she called him and uttered the ominous phrase, “We need to talk.” She expressed that their relationship had become dull and that she craved more excitement—traveling, meeting new people, and other men. Unsurprisingly, she ended the relationship. In a fit of anger, he collected all the personal items and gifts she had left behind, anything that reminded him of her, and piled them in the backyard. He doused them with lighter fluid and set them on fire as a tribute to the goddess of Vanity. As he watched the flames, he vowed never to get involved with women again—those superficial, frivolous, self-absorbed, hypocritical, vain, unpredictable, heartless beings—the embodiment of all that was cruel in life.

     Neither Ted nor Tina was particularly social. They had a friend or two, but overall they were both steppenwolves; they felt disconnected from mainstream society and, as a result, didn't embrace many of its values and norms. They looked upon themselves as morally superior to others, and in every situation they tried to act according to what they believed was right. At the same time they had to fight the animal instincts that pushed them to do otherwise. This persistent conflict between their rational selves and their animal nature would bring about enough angst to make them want to avoid social interaction. Most of the time they were alone. For the most part, they were satisfied with those circumstances since they did not rely on crowds to have a fulfilling life. But they still yearned for a connection with at least one person who could understand and empathize with them. Following their breakups and as a result of that duality, those who once took pride in being happy as solitary wolves of the steppes began to experience the onset of loneliness. They started going for walks, attending movies, concerts, or dining out—all by themselves. To alleviate the weight of their secluded lifestyle, Tina turned to music and painting, while Ted embraced writing.

     One windy yet sunny autumn day, while Ted was sitting on a park bench, busy writing a story, a gust of wind suddenly blew the sheets of paper off his hands. Alarmed, he watched them fly about. Panicking at the thought of losing even a single page that contained his notes, he frantically ran all over the grassy field, trying to pick them all up before the wind blew them too far. All of a sudden, Tina appeared out of nowhere and helped him gather the scattered sheets. Once he managed to collect himself, he sat down on the bench, gasping for air but relieved. She then came over to him with a bunch of sheets in her hands and handed them over to him. She scanned him from head to toe, as if trying to assess what kind of guy he was. To her, he appeared to be a decent man.

     He expressed his gratitude to her. Curious, she asked him what he was writing about. He informed her that he was writing a short story. Naturally, she wanted to know its title. “Casualties of War,” he answered. She then inquired about the storyline. He explained that it revolved around a woman in a war zone who chooses to make the ultimate sacrifice: giving up her own life to save the someone she loves. Tina remarked that it sounded like a fascinating story and expressed her desire to read it once he was done. He mentioned that if she returned to the park the following Sunday, he would be there, and by then he would have finished the story for her to read. Tina promised she would come back.

     The following Sunday, she went back to the park as she had promised. Ted had completed the story and allowed her to read it, just as he had said he would. By the time she finished, tears were streaming down Tina’s face. “It’s an amazing story,” she declared.

     From that day on, Ted spent every Sunday afternoon in the same park, sitting on the same bench and writing his stories as he usually did. Tina continued to return each week, and they developed a habit of sharing thoughts and feelings they wouldn’t normally disclose to anyone else. Over time, their casual meetings turned into a close friendship, and they began to spend a lot of time together. They established a routine of going to movies, taking walks, attending concerts, enjoying dinners, and visiting each other’s homes. They even took vacations together, believing it was the perfect way to experience the world. They both agreed that looking at breathtaking sites such as the Rocky Mountains, the Grand Canyon, Stonehenge, Mont Saint Michel, Mount Parnassus, the vault of Saint Vita Cathedral, the Apennines, the Umbrian Valley, the Tuscan Hills, the red roofs of Bologna, or the Grand Canal was far more enjoyable when there was someone nearby to share in the wonder, to exchange smiles, and to exclaim, “Wow!”

     They became each other’s confidants. They were delighted to have stumbled upon each other. Notwithstanding a certain degree of physical and sexual attraction between them, they both agreed to be just friends and keep it that way, lest they fuck up the only genuinely significant relationship they had ever had.

     That is why it was such a shock when she called one day and bluntly said the dreaded words, “We need to talk.” She grumbled that she was getting old; she declared that she had completely given up on men and that she no longer had any pretensions of finding the love of her life, which she did not mind since she had found in Ted all the companionship, affection, solidarity, loyalty, moral support, and understanding she needed. Even so, she admitted that she still wanted to have a child, and her clock was ticking. Options like artificial insemination and in vitro fertilization were off the table due to their high costs. And besides, she wanted to know whose sperm she was getting. Consequently, she had concluded that it would be best to become pregnant by somebody she knew and cared for—a guy for whom she meant something—a man who was kind, intelligent, and handsome. And who was better than Ted to father her child?

     He was dumbfounded and at a loss for words. The very thought of it terrified him. On the one hand, he was uncertain about how this situation might affect their dynamics, which had been running so smoothly up until now. And on the other hand, he was thrilled at the possibility of making love with her. He was attracted to her. He had even masturbated imagining her many times. He said he would think about it.

They spent the weekend at her place together. Tina had a very regular menstrual cycle and was currently in the middle of it. They made love several times over the weekend. Contrary to their fears, things went well; the experience was enjoyable. Two weeks later, right on schedule, her period arrived, and she felt extremely disappointed. Undaunted by this failure, as she referred to it, she told him she wanted to try again the following month.

     Two weeks later, she called him to let him know she was ovulating and needed him to come over. They spent the next two nights together, having sex multiple times. Once again, two weeks later, her period returned like clockwork. This time Tina felt quite upset. She asked him if he would be willing to try again next month.

     Fourteen days after her last period, she called Ted again and told him she was ovulating and required his presence. It was a long holiday weekend, and Ted stayed at Tina’s for all three days, during which they must have made love about ten times. She was very hopeful that this time it would work. However, two weeks later, her period was back.

Tina felt utterly defeated, succumbing to depression and the myriad of mental predators that feed on your sanity, self-confidence, and self-esteem. Not only was she incapable of establishing and maintaining a healthy romantic relationship, but she was also barren, unable to bring life to this world. This led her to become increasingly irritable and withdraw from everything and everyone, including Ted. She was missing so many days at work that it was likely she would lose her job. She ignored Ted’s calls, forcing him to come over to her home and knock multiple times before she finally let him in. Ted tried to comfort her, suggesting that perhaps he was to blame—that maybe he was too old and his sperm motility was not good enough. Moreover, having children was not the only path to a fulfilling life. He reminded her that she was a wonderful woman with many dreams within her reach, that she was not alone, and that she had him—someone who loved her deeply. Yet, Ted’s attempts were fruitless. She continued to spiral deeper into a dark hole from which she was unable to escape.

It was crucial for him to overcome his cowardice and decide to confess his betrayal. But how could he do it? In the darkness of his room, after many sleepless nights, he was again pondering the dilemma he was facing, struggling with the appropriate words to say, and rehearsing the conversation he intended to have with her. How could he tell his best friend that he had shamefully misled her, that there was nothing wrong with her, that years before, he had decided not to have any more children and opted for surgical sterilization; that he was incapable of procreation, that against all reasons and his love for her, he chose to conceal the facts simply because he couldn’t resist the chance to be intimate with her? Ted broke down in tears. He realized revealing the truth to Tina would likely hurt her even more than she already was, and that there was no telling what the consequences would be.

©William Almonte Jiménez, 2011