Crissakes, all that girl can do is cry. Give my best to crybaby.

That’s how it started. Sweatpants and athletic socks, I was emptying Tank’s gym bag. He’d forgotten it in my trunk. His phone clunked against the basement laundry floor. I punched in his code to make sure the screen was okay. That’s when I saw their NSFW text chain.

Jessica was Tank’s ex. They were college sweethearts and he’d wanted to marry her. She dumped him after graduation to date and marry her rich boss. Tank was heartbroken he told me. He told me even when Jessica wanted him back he didn’t want someone who chose money over love. We’d met four years after that breakup but the hurt looked out at me from his eyes.

Tank and I met on the Keystone Trail. I was hiking alone and doing nature photography. Tank was with a hiking group but he lingered behind to walk with me, to talk with me. We were friends for eight months before our first kiss. I wanted him and I knew he wanted me. It’s just hard for me to trust.

My parents drank and fought. In fact my whole family drank and fought. We were in every 12 step program there ever was. When my dad took off and left me holding the pieces, I was terrified and relieved the other shoe had dropped. I looked after my mom and my baby brother Liam. So yeah I don’t trust easily. I just never expected anyone to take care of me. Tank did. He said it was okay to cry.

Tank looked like the typical frat bro but he was the best listener I had ever met. He was my rock when Liam was killed and Mommy relapsed. He stayed by my side when everyone was gone. After two years of deep blues and crap, the day we got married was legit the happiest day of my life. Tank called me his treasure. At least that is what he called me to my face. To his ex I was just a crybaby and Jessica was the one who got away.

Sinking to the basement floor I went through all their texts. I read how they missed each other. I read how they each said their marriages were mistakes. Here in these blue bubbles he was the flirty and funny man I loved being flirty, funny with her. The Tank that said I was fine AF said to Jessica I was a whiner, fat and lazy. After we made love he texted her about how hard it was to even touch me. He sent her photos of me unawares and together they laughed at my scars.

Crybaby, I remembered helping my dad drive home drunk. I remembered dragging my mom out of strange houses. I remembered changing Liam’s diapers, and making his brown bag lunches, and finding him whrn he was high and abandoned by loser friends, selecting his suit for his funeral. I remembered convincing landlords that the check was in the mail. I remembered packing house in the middle of the night over and over again. Crybaby.

I’m not sure how long I was on that basement floor. I finished the washing, printed out the text screenshots, and made a lovely dinner. I don’t know if Tank is lying to me or lying to her. I returned his phone with an innocent smile and asked him how his day was over the broccoli rabe. I don’t want to know the truth.

I pretended to listen to Tank’s story about HR’s beef with his company’s new CFO. I was no longer at our kitchen table in our townhouse. My head was in a storage unit and applying for a parallel position in my organization in another state. I think there was something out Northwest.

That night I pretended to sleep and listened to Tank tapping away on his phone. I could feel his words caressing her, longing for what could’ve been. With deep breaths, I was still pretending when Tank curled against my back. His arm was heavy across my middle, pulling me close.

Tank snuggled against my nape and slipped into sleep. I was gone already. I was three time zones away without a word to my husband. Once I’m gone I’ll give my best to Jessica and mail the text print outs to her husband. The silver lining of a craptastic childhood is the ability to endure like a mofo. I wondered if Jessica would miss her lifestyle. I wondered about the hole I will leave behind. I wondered what Tank would do when all he could do was cry.