The Other Woman…
In the shower, I’m “the other woman”! Warm water cascading over her body, thoughts bombarding her mind. I’m the other woman now! Before, when it was only Mitchell and me and nobody knew about us, I never thought of myself as “the other woman.” But now his wife knows and his parents know and I’m sure by the end of today everyone that knows him and Marsha will know that I’m the terrible “other woman.”
Knowing her life was about to drastically change: On the one hand, the unbelievable having happened! Truly amazed that after five years of loving, of desiring and dreaming of spending her life with Mitchell as husband and wife, the dream was now in the process of becoming true .
On the other hand, though, realism setting in; distressed at the thought of herself as “the other woman,” as a “home wrecker,” as the woman responsible for the breakup of a family with three young children.
Also, the financial obligation she’d committed to: “I work too, you know! I’m paying rent here and I’ll keep paying the rent here! And with both of us working money’s not going to be all that much of a problem. Don’t worry,” Elizabeth recalled saying. “We’ll get along just fine!” Further thinking, For how long? If Marsha ever marries the alimony will end…if she ever remarries! But even so, there’s three kids to support for eighteen years… Forever!
Out of the shower, standing nude before the mirror brushing her hair, seeing—although, much worse in the remembrance of her image, much worse in the eye of her imagination then in actual sight—seeing. Whenever nude, Elizabeth would look disgustedly at the droop of her breasts, at the width of her hips and buttocks, at the translucent stretch marks that crossed her stomach, breasts and thighs, that Mitchell, truthfully, said he never cared about or actually no longer noticed.
However, always seeing herself as a fat girl, Elizabeth, very mistakenly, did not believe that Mitchell never cared about, or no longer noticed her—in her exaggerated opinion—ugly stretch marks. Nor did Elizabeth believe that the sight of her “fat girl” body was, as Mitchell had repeatedly told her, the body he’d dreamt of making love to his whole life! That he really loved her body!
Indeed, if his physical reaction to her nude body was testament to the truth of his statement, if an instantaneous erection was proof of his words, to Elizabeth’s amazement, Mitchell Lipensky, the man she loved with all of her heart, did, truly, love the sight of her, in her imagination, “fat girl” body.