(Continued from last issue) David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.
The sex with Julie was great; no surprises there, it always was, but once it was done, the return to sanity was swift.
What was I doing? Why was I taking this kind of crazy risk with my marriage for a quick tumble in the hay? Did I have no sense of self-control?
I had been in such a hurry to get here, but now I was suddenly anxious to get away from the flat and Julie.
“I have to get going,” I announced as I got up. The mixed look of hurt, betrayal and resignation in her eyes momentarily made me feel like a terrible person, but I shrugged off the gnawing guilt and determinedly headed for the bathroom. When I emerged a few minutes later, she had not moved and stayed silent as I got dressed.
“I’m off now,” I announced once I was dressed, and only then did she turn to look at me.
“You have a key; so, lock the door behind you,” she answered drily.
It was the first time she had used such a cold, emotionless, almost dead tone with me, and once again I was hit by that pang of guilt as for a brief second I wondered if this time I had crossed some invisible line and killed her soul.
I prayed I had not, for her soul was the most beautiful part of her, but as I stood there about to leave, there was no sign of it. With a new heaviness on my chest, I left the flat. It was the first time she had not walked me to the door.
I knew David was going to walk away again, seconds after he rolled off me. There was a definite change in his demeanor, and rather than pull me close so we could cuddle like he usually did after we made love, this time he withdrew so far to his side of the bed that no part of our bodies touched.
It felt like a slap in the face; I had given him my all, grateful to have him in my bed again, and desperate with renewed hope for him to stay. Now here he was, walking off like nothing had just happened between us, like I had not just given him my very being.
I wanted to shout and cry and somehow stop him, but I did not have the energy to. I wanted to ask him why he was treating me like trash, to demand that he looked me in the eye and explained why he felt he could keep flipping the switch on my heart on and off as he pleased, but knew it would not accomplish or change anything, so there seemed no point.
I stayed silent as he left, and made no move to stop him. I don’t know how long I lay there, but eventually it grew dark outside, and only then did I get up to draw the curtains and make sure David had locked the door when he left.
He had; so, I returned to the bedroom and took a shower. The bathroom was still wet from David’s quick shower, and I could still smell the soap he used in the humid mist that hung in the air.
My chest tightened at the familiar scent, but although I felt a lump form in my throat, no tears came, and I was still dry-eyed when I returned to the room and climbed back into bed.
David was home when I got back that evening and I was relieved to see that his foul mood from the morning was gone.
In fact, not only was his foul mood gone, but he was close to being amorous as he kept finding every opportunity to touch me, even in front of the children, and when we retired to our room later that night, he could hardly wait to get me into bed.
We made love, but although David was making all the right moves and doing all the right things, I got the distinct impression that he was in some way merely performing a role.
It is hard to explain because it’s not that his mind was elsewhere; on the contrary, he was totally focused on me –perhaps too focused, and it was that that was unusual and confused me.
Even once we were done, he continued to literally cling to me, joining me in the shower and then holding me close when we returned to bed. It was almost like he was trying to prove a point, but to whom when there was only him and I here?
Maybe he was feeling insecure? Perhaps he sensed that my own focus was divided of late and he was trying to hold onto me as he felt his hold on me slip?
That would certainly explain his focused and concentrated demeanor. I smiled at the thought; I liked the idea of David nervous about losing me and desperately trying to hold on, especially if it was going to translate into this intensity in our love life.
After all, who knew what else he would be willing to do to keep me? My smile widened as I thought of all the things I could ask him for. I fell asleep dreaming of gifts, shopping trips and holidays.