Blood pounded in her ears as she reached the elevator and punched the call button repeatedly. It was all a fucking lie. The last three years of her life were nothing but a fucking lie.
“C’mon, c’mon,” she told the elevator, attempting to ignore his pursuit.
“Fuck you, Brad!” She punched the button again, even though the elevator was clearly not coming.
“Lisa, I’m sorry.” He caught up to her, grabbing her arm and pulling her around to face him.
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
“And stop saying my name, you piece of shit! All this time… All this time you’ve been fucking married? What the fuck?”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Not possible. Fuck you. I wasted three fucking years on you but I guess that’s better than the fifteen years your wife wasted. Thank God, she found out and told me the truth. How long would you have let this go on, huh? How long?”
He stammered, as the doors finally opened and she stepped into the crowded elevator. “Don’t bother,” she said as the doors slid closed around his ugly face, “You weren’t really that good anyway.”
As glad as she was to get away from him, the elevator felt like it was closing in on her. It was too small and too crowded to hold the pain and anger she contained. Hot tears, formed from her suppressed rage and soaked her collar. It was a relief when the doors opened into the lobby and she made her way to the city street beyond.
The cool air on her face was like a balm to her spirit. The pain would fade, she told herself. She didn’t need him anyway. She was ready to leave the lies behind.