Free The Side Effects of You by Anna Black

onto the bed and applied my lotion.
    Finally, in a comfortable pair of sweats and a tank, I headed downstairs to pour myself a glass of chilled wine and catch up on my recorded episodes of Scandal . I had missed the entire season and for weeks had waited for a quiet evening alone to watch the episodes. Snuggled on the sofa in my family room, I was enjoying the series and the peace and quiet. On my third episode and my second glass of wine, I got a text alert.

    Meet me for 1 drink pls. I really need 2 c u.

    I studied the message for a few moments before I replied. No .

    I won’t get u into any trouble. Pls, Andrea.
    Â 
    No!
    Â 
    What can I do 2 chg ur mind?
    Â 
    Absolutely nothing.
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    Why r u treating me so cold? Can we at least b friends? We were close once .
    We were .
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    I miss that.

    I wanted to say that I did too, but I didn’t. So y do u wanna c me so bad? R u dying or something? LOL .

    No I’m not dying, LOL. U prob wish that I was.
    Â 
    No I don’t. I don’t hate u, Q.
    Â 
    That’s comforting 2 no .

    LOL. I couldn’t hate u even if I tried . I wondered how I had just that quickly allowed him to engage me in this sneaky conversation.

    Same here. Just one drink, Andrea. I really want 2 c u.
    Â 
    I can’t.
    Â 
    Y not?
    Â 
    It wouldn’t be wise.
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    Y wouldn’t it be? It’s me, Andrea, not some stranger.
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    B/c I’m married.
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    And if u r happily married, seeing me shouldn’t have any effect on your marriage. We are old friends.
    Â 
    No, we are ex-lovers.
    That 2, but we grew up together. We were friends before we dated, remember?
    Â 
    Yes I do.

    I smiled to myself. I did miss that bond we’d shared, how he used to always make me laugh and smile, and how he’d keep me company in the kitchen while I tried to cook in our first apartment. Even if I burned something or if it didn’t turn out right, he would find a way to make a joke about it so I wouldn’t feel so bad.
    It was wrong, and I knew I should have ended the conversation right then, but I keyed in a response. Ok, where do u want 2 meet?
    Â 
    Andrea, serious? U r not playing wit me?
    Â 
    Serious. U r right. We were close once n meeting u 4 a drink can’t taint my marriage.
    Â 
    U r right.
    Â 
    There is a place not too far from my salon on Wabash called M Lounge.
    Â 
    Yes, I’m familiar. I can meet you.
    Â 
    In about an hour?
    Â 
    I’ll b there.
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    I got up from the sofa and went up to my bedroom, wondering if I should back out. Seeing Quentin was harmless, but how long would that last? He was my first love, and although I had married Jeremiah for love, the love I had for him wasn’t as deep as the love I had for Quentin.
    Jeremiah was always serious and uptight. Yes, we had shared some good times. I’d be lying if I said we didn’t. But we had never shared any romantic times. My husband wasn’t cruel, but he was far from sweet. No holding hands, no kisses, just because . . . or hardly ever, anyway. He would go out of town for ministry work and would not call me for a couple of days, as if he hadn’t left his family back in a completely different state. He threw a bigger celebration for the church anniversary than he’d ever done for our anniversary, and six months after he’d initially stopped touching me, I’d woken up wishing I hadn’t committed myself to him. When he stopped coming up to our bed and slowly began moving his items into the guest bedroom, I’d visited the divorce subject, but he’d put a lid on that topic quickly, saying, “Folks who follow God don’t divorce.”
    I still scratched my head at that. To remain in a situation that brought unhappiness was just plain stupid, but there I was a little over two years later, still in an unfulfilling marriage with someone who had become a stranger to me. Yes, there was a stranger in my house, a man impersonating my