How Does a Moment Last Forever?

by Jenna Michaelson

  Once again, he wouldn’t talk about what was bothering him.

  I’d planned to talk to him after he arrived home from work the following week and cooked a fantastic meal.

  He is the fussiest eater ever; doesn’t like this, doesn’t like that, mushrooms are like slugs, butter is the devil, fresh tomatoes are disgusting, but he will eat a whole can of them (don’t ask!). Meat has to be filleted, no pork, no lamb, no turkey, no bones, likes liver, hates kidney, no chops, no sausages, fish is good, but no bones or skin, the list is endless. But, give him home-made chicken and leek pie with roast potatoes, carrots, sprouts, cabbage, spinach and Yorkshire pudding (weird) and he is like a tamed lion.

  The pie was in the oven with the potatoes when he walked through the door. I planned to sit him down with a huge plate of food and then hit him with it. Sounds easy. You don’t know how devious my husband is.

  “Hi, Sweetheart. Sorry, but I’ve got a blinding headache and need to go to bed.” And that’s where he went, and stayed, all night long. I ate dinner alone, seething because I know he went straight to bed to avoid my questions.

  He wasn’t going to get away with it, so I did what any good wife would do and hid his car keys in a place I knew he’d never find them – the cleaning cupboard. He does clean and is borderline OCD with it, but it would be the last place he’d think to look.

  The next morning, he was frantic. He turned the girls’ toy boxes upside down thinking they might have grabbed the keys from the side. Sofa cushions were thrown onto the floor. Furniture was moved, him thinking they’d fallen behind something. He looked high and low, but not hard enough.

  “Jen, I’m gonna be late for my meeting.”

  “I don’t know where they are,” I lied. “Where’d you last have them?”

  “I could have sworn I put them on the side when I came through the door. One of the girls must have moved them.”

  “You’ve probably just put them down somewhere and forgotten.” I didn’t want to blame the kids.

  “Has Rose been this morning?”

  “You know she doesn’t clean today.”

  His face was turning a nice shade of scarlet and the muscles in his jaw clenched tight.

  “Bloody hell. Where did I put them?”

  “No idea, love. Call Anna and ask her to reschedule the appointment.”

  “I’ve got no choice, have I?” I could see the light come on behind his eyes. “Unless,” he paused, “I take your car.”

  “Forget it,” I said. “I have my own work to do, and I’m not getting a taxi.”

  I heard him on the phone in the kitchen. “Anna, cancel my morning appointments, will you? Yep - can’t find my damn car keys. I’ll be in as soon as I can.”

  Usually, I wouldn’t interfere with his work, but it was the only way I could think of cornering him. I heard him running the tap. Coffee it was, and my time to strike.

  He smiled as I walked into the kitchen. “You look gorgeous,” he said. My husband was never backwards in coming forward where compliments were concerned.

  “Thank you.” I kissed him on the cheek and settled opposite him. “But now I have you here, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

  “What do you mean?” It was then I realised where the girls got it from. If they were ever doing something they knew they shouldn’t, they adopted the wide eyed innocent look that was supposed to get them out of trouble. It didn’t work for them and it wasn’t going to work for him either.

  “Don’t give me the doe eyed look. I know you too well, Zane.”

  “There’s nothing wrong.”

  “Really?” I didn’t believe him

  “Yes, really. Jesus, Jen.” He jumped straight on the defensive. “You were wasted at medical school – you’d have made a killing in law.”

  “Come on, we promised. No more secrets.”

  “I don’t have any secrets.”

  I knew one wrong word and he would storm out and the conversation would be over.

  “Maybe not, but there is something. You’ve not been right since we went to The Club.”

  His face flushed. I had him. Trapped in my web.

  “You’re imagining it.”

  “You know when you tell porkies to your mother and your eyes give it away every time…” I raised my eyebrows and let my words hang in the air.

  He looked at me, knowing he was beaten. “Don’t know what you’re on about.” And he still managed to say it while keeping a straight face.

  “When you avoid telling me something, your face turns a pretty shade of red and your jaw starts to twitch on either side.”

  “Bollocks,” he said.

  “I want to know.”

  He got up and made two coffees. (Mellow Birds, if you’re interested. Any other brand of coffee is like sewage water and not fit for human consumption.) “There’s nothing to tell you.”

  “Look in that fridge over there,” I instructed.

  “What for?” He was losing patience.

  “Just look.”

  He opened the fridge and looked inside. “Yes, fridge. Still there. Food. Cold. Got it. Now shall I try the freezer for clues?”

  “Don’t be facetious,” I said.

  “Well, stop treating me like a dick and tell me what I’m looking for.”

  “I cooked chicken and leek pie last night.”

  He clapped his hands together slowly. “Well, pardon me for not realising I’d married Mary Berry.”

  I could feel my blood bubbling.

  “I’m gonna get off this chair and ram the leftover pie in your face if you carry on,” I warned. I’d done it before, so he knew a sequel was entirely possible.

  “What’s all this about?”

  “I wanna know what’s on your mind? The last time you closed yourself off look what happened.”

  “This is different.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because I’m jealous.”

  I was stunned. “Of what?”

  “Of those guys at the club leering all over you.”

  “Is that it?” I laughed, and even though it was wrong, I felt elated inside. “It’s not like we put on a show for them. We were all talking at the bar.”

  “It’s not funny, Jen. I mean it. I don’t like them perving at you, thinking about what they’d like to do to you.”

  I walked over to him and put my arms round him. “Come here, you big soft teddy bear.” I loved to feel his solid body pressed against me. He hugged me back. “I only have eyes for you, and so what if they want me; it’ll never happen. They can watch, but they’ll never get to touch.” I lured him into a kiss, and even thinking back to it makes me tingle down below, but we had the most amazing sex that morning. But, at the back of my mind, I was thinking… where am I gonna hide the damn keys where he’ll find them?

  Zane - There isn’t much to say, apart from the fact, she makes a cracking Chicken and Leek Pie. (Jen, what’s for dinner? I’m hungry now!)

  As for hiding my car keys. No surprise there, as my wife will employ whatever means necessary when she has to. That’s one of the reasons I adore her. She is as devious as I am.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Life was good.

  We went back to The Club several times, still content to watch others. I was at the stage where I wanted to take things further and be the one people watched, but Zane wasn’t ready to take that step, just yet. I was surprised he was nervous, especially after his performance piece at Coastal Walk, but I would respect what he wanted and hope in time he’d be more comfortable.

  He arrived home one day with the biggest bunch of flowers I’d ever seen. My heart sank. He’d bought me flowers many times since we reunited, but something about these particular flowers provoked a memory. They reminded me of the flowers he gave me the day after he spent the night with Chad.

  Like a lot of women, I love flowers, but not when they’re given to assuage one’s guilt, and in this case, they were. I knew it, but they were beauti
ful. He’d been with Chad, bought me flowers on the way home, and then we had the most orgasmic sex. It was the first time we’d connected emotionally for as long as I could remember.

  I’d been thinking a lot about Chad and questioned my own decisions back then. I wonder what I’d do now, if I found out what he was up to? Hindsight is a wonderful thing, don’t you agree.

  Zane has a habit of calling me without realising, so the day I heard him and Chad for the first time, I assumed that’s what he’d done.

  To be fair, I didn’t know what I’d heard. I thought he’d ‘bum’ dialled’ me as he did quite often when he had his phone in the back of his jeans.

  At first, I thought he was in his office wanking over a porn movie. I knew he wanked at the office a lot – he’d already told me, and it didn’t bother me at all. Watching porn while he jacked off didn’t bother me either, but then I realised it wasn’t a movie he was watching.

  I could hear the moans and my initial reaction was to shout down the phone, tell him to stop whatever he was doing and whoever he was doing it with. Unparalleled rage coursed through me, but then, it faded. I don’t know if it was because I was trying to convince myself I wasn’t hearing what I thought I was, but a calmness engulfed me, and I continued to listen. By the end, I knew full well what I’d just heard, but strangely, I felt a disconnect to it.

  What would I say to him when he came home?

  How would I deal with it?

  I didn’t know but continued on as I had before answering the call.

  He came home later that day with Thai food, and from what I recall, a big smile across his face. I knew him too well. The smile was a façade, and deep down he would be crushed with guilt for what he’d done.

  Zane fussed over me, bringing me dinner and I waited nervously for the big confession, but there wasn’t one. He came in, bent down to kiss me and I couldn’t hold back my tears.

  His face was a picture. Was the game up? I know that crossed his mind, but I fobbed him off, the perfect excuse being I was watching a sad programme.

  I remember leaning into him and sobbing, my heart breaking. My husband was going to leave me, for another man. But, even then I wasn’t concerned with the gender of the person he’d been fucking, but the fact he was going to leave me and the girls.

  I had to hold myself together and bide my time.

  It would do no good rushing into war with him.

  I recall needing a drink, and grabbing a bottle of wine, but that night, for the first time in a long time, we talked, and I saw flickers of the husband I’d been missing. The man I married was there once more, even if fleetingly, and stupidly or not, I was contented with that alone.

  He’d had sex with somebody else.

  And what? I was positive it didn’t mean anything.

  Eventually Zane went to bed, but my mind was racing, too active to go upstairs only to stare at the ceiling. No, forget that, I thought, I’d stay up and watch TV. Looking back, it was my way of avoiding intimacy with him.

  I found his phone and scrolled through the messages. Why the hell didn’t he delete them? But then again, he had no idea I’d heard him and Chad fucking.

  Reading the messages had two very extreme reactions. One half of me wanted to throw up, the things they said to one another far too intimate and cosy, but the other side of me was extremely aroused. I’d always considered the thought of two men having sex fascinating, but my mind was busy with images I thought I didn’t want to see.

  A lot of people would think me as deviant as my husband, but these were emotions I’d never experienced before. All new to me, I did what I thought was right.

  I won’t lie, but I imagined Zane, Chad and myself in bed together, me sitting in a chair watching them play, and then, I’d join them for the most erotic sex imaginable.

  It was the following morning when I made the decision to keep my mouth shut about what I knew.

  As long as I felt my marriage was secure and the Zane I married found his way back to me, I could turn my head and live in blissful ignorance.

  I had no idea what burying my head in the sand would cost us.

  The following day he sent me a picture message I knew was meant for Chad.

  I thought I’d made the right choice and decided to play him at his own game and have some fun of my own.

  He wasn’t going to be conducting this orchestra, not when I could hear every bum note he was playing.

  Zane – I feel sick to the stomach knowing Jenna heard me and Chad having sex in my office. No wife or partner should ever have to witness such betrayal.

  I was reckless to the point of stupidity.

  I’m not proud of myself for the ease in which I lied, but the other part of me feels justice was served to a degree for her own lies and deceit.

  I imagine the other way it could have played out – me in the divorce courts, my family and reputation in tatters.

  Neither of us would have been declared the winner. We were both lucky to varying degrees.

  Chapter Fourteen

  I’m writing this and my mind buzzes with memories that I’m trying to sort into some sort of order, but that whole time was such a jumble of emotions, I do remember it all, but it’s like a broken mirror and my memories are fragmented into millions of tiny pieces I try and glue back together.

  One instance that sticks out in my mind is the trip to Birmingham.

  Zane and I often have a giggle about it, but I can’t believe I did what I did and actually got away with it.

  This was my ultimate Jane Bond moment, but this particular superspy didn’t have to launch herself off the Eiffel Tower or scuttle down the side of The Shard, pretending to be Wonder Woman, to get what she needed.

  Nothing as glamorous or exciting for me.

  All I had to do was bribe a hotel employee to give me access to my husband’s room then hide in a rickety wardrobe.

  I was nearly caught and had the shortest of time to conceal myself in the only place I could see right there and then. My heart was beating out of my chest, and I can’t think of any other time in my life I’ve been so nervous. What the hell was I doing?

  I peeped out of the gap, wondering what they were doing back so soon. I thought I had a good hour to snoop about, but something had brought them back to their room. I should have been in and out without risk.

  I could see the whole room from this vantage point, but my eye was drawn to the black jockstrap on the floor. I didn’t think anything of it, but now I know, Chad loved him to wear one. I’d already found the packet of lube in the bathroom so knew they’d already been screwing. It turned me on thinking about it and I admit, I entertained myself at the thought. I should have been mad, but I wasn’t, and if I had been discovered I know I would have instigated sex between the three of us.

  Back in the wardrobe, I caught the look on Zane’s face as he entered the room. There was a look of concern, so I assumed they’d had cross words and decided to cut their night short.

  Whatever had transpired was soon revealed

  I listened to their conversation. Chad wasn’t happy when Zane revealed his guilt at leading a double life. I got what I wanted then and there. Zane was still madly in love with me and our children, but there were feelings for Chad too. I didn’t have my head buried in the sand. There had to be some residual feelings for Zane to have tracked him down after all these years.

  Chad left my husband all those years ago because he was in love with him and didn’t want to live a gay lifestyle out in the open. Of course, he denied it at first, but hidden away in that bloody wardrobe, even I could see it was true, and my heart ached. They could have been together, but circumstance tore them apart. No wonder Zane never mentioned anything to me. He’d blamed himself, but it was all Chad’s doing.

  The atmosphere was tense between them and strangely, I felt like the intruder, guilty for eavesdropping on this most private and tender moment.

  Tender moments always made me cringe when I watched them play ou
t on a TV screen, but I was hanging off their every word. I was a voyeur. I loved the sexual side of it, but also the emotional side too. I’ve never been a reader of lovey-dovey romance; it always seemed so far-fetched and I usually hated the sex scenes but give me real life and I was reeled in, hook, line and sinker.

  Chad told Zane he was in love with him. He didn’t need to be any more transparent than that, but to me, it was just said in the heat of the moment. I was a fool not to stop what was happening there and then.

  I remember feeling emotional, but glancing back, I don’t know why. I should have been livid and burst out the wardrobe and had them both by the short and curlies. Watching as they kissed, I cried. The closeness between them was startling, but not enough for me to draw a line in the sand.

  Zane loved me. I knew that with my whole being, but what must he be thinking at that moment? I couldn’t second guess anything because this was all new to me.

  I’d aided and abetted my husband’s cheating from word go and now I had to go along for the ride. My nerves were on fire because I didn’t know what was coming next. It felt like I was part of the cliff hanger at the end of a television drama.

  They kissed with such fire and intensity, I wanted to be in the middle of them. I wanted what Zane had. Chad was all man. Don’t get me wrong, I am more than spoiled when it comes to my husband’s cock. I wouldn’t change a thing about him, but Chad was seriously hung. I wondered how Zane could withstand a hammering from something that big. But when I noticed the butt plug, I realised how. My husband was very accommodating it seemed. I had to press my hand over my mouth when the butt plug dropped to the floor.

  Turned on was an understatement and I allowed my fingers to wander again, as deep inside me as my position would allow. I really wanted to join in.

  What followed next was fucking like I’d never seen. The more Zane moaned, the more I wanted to, dangerously close to my own climax. I didn’t trust myself and clamped my free hand over my mouth as my body shuddered, racked with an internal explosion of pleasure.