by Amanda Aksel
I stopped in the middle of the hallway and felt my cheeks get hot, and a tear surfaced.
“Wow, you really don’t give a shit about me, do you?” I said in a much more severe, low voice. He paused about five feet ahead of me and dropped his head. His eyes rolled when he turned to me.
“Don’t be ridiculous, Marin. You want to talk, then come here.”
He grabbed my arm and ushered me into a lab room entryway. He handed me some sterile medical clothing where we dressed and washed our hands before entering a lab. The first thing I noticed was a wall of caged mice or rats. I really didn’t know the difference. Michael’s younger lab assistant sat at a large workstation in the middle of the room mixing chemicals with droppers and tubes.
“So this is where you work?” I said looking around and squinting at the bright lights.
“Most of the time.” He looked over some of the rat cages and wrote a couple of notes.
“Is there a place we can talk alone?” I asked him, quietly hoping that his intensely working assistant couldn’t hear me.
“Hey, Chase,” Michael called out to the assistant whose trance was broken by the sound of my brother’s voice. “Take a lunch.” Chase put down what he was doing and left the lab.
“Is that better?” he asked. I sighed and sat down at the workstation, watching Michael work. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to disrupt his day. If he were a plumber or architect it would be different, but he was trying to save lives. I didn’t really long for quality time with Michael. I had a question to ask. With all the information I was getting and all that I was experiencing, I knew if I could trust anyone to give me a straight, unbiased, brutally honest opinion it would be Michael. If I came out and asked him point blank he’d be offended, so I opted for a little embellishment.
“I’m writing an article about modern marriages, and I wanted to ask you a couple of questions.” He looked reluctant. “In the name of research,” I added. He didn’t consider my line of work science, but I was hoping he would approve since current research meant a great deal to him.
“Okay,” he said.
“First question, have you ever been unfaithful to Jennifer?” I asked. His head whipped in my direction.
“What?” He scoffed. I guess he wasn’t expecting that.
“Come on, Michael. It’s a simple question.” I stood firm, but he looked annoyed.
“No,” he said and turned to the caged rats.
“Bullshit!”
“Excuse me?” Michael looked back at me with a twisted expression.
“I think you’re lying.” I crossed my arms and darted my eyes. He just rolled his.
“Did Jennifer put you up to this?” he asked.
“No, does she have a reason to?”
“I don’t have time for this. You have to go.” He began steering me out of the lab, but I planted my feet.
“I knew it. You’re brave enough to step out on your wife, but too cowardly to admit it.”
“Where’s this coming from?” he asked.
“Just forget it. I should’ve known I couldn’t count on you for an honest fucking answer,” I said and hit the exit button at the lab door. Hurrying down the hall with a ball of anger welling up inside me, I was almost as heated as the moment I caught Chad. Then it all came back to me. The disappointment from knowing that there were no honest men. As soon as I got to the elevator, that anger turned into despair, and then came the tears.
CHAPTER TWELVE
In The Mood For A Melody
My tears fell all the way home from Berkeley. I felt the pain from my broken heart all over again. So much had changed, and I was starting not to recognize myself. Who did I think I was barging in on my brother’s busy afternoon and asking him such a personal question? That wasn’t me. It wasn’t like me to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend and play games to prove a point either. I was ashamed, an emotion I wasn’t counting on to surface for my actions. Sure, I had my reasons, but even if they were good reasons did that make them right? Was my deception so different than Chad’s was or James’ would be? Was I really better or more honest than either of them?
I wished I still lived in my perfect little world, wearing my rose colored glasses. Then again, it was naivety that led me to such a dark place, and I wondered if the world would ever be right again. Would I ever find someone to love and respect, who could love and respect me back the same?
If cheating had always plagued relationships, then why weren’t more wives and girlfriends calling men out on it? Women share the most personal details of their lives with each other, but it’s rare to hear of an affair, and when you do it’s a big deal. If they’re not talking about it, they’re in denial. If all men were unfaithful, and I had such a problem with infidelity then I’d have to settle for being alone. I wasn’t about to subject myself to a life of looking the other way. I couldn’t. Call me righteous, crazy, or morally sound, but I couldn’t pretend that everything was perfect when it wasn’t. Even if it meant giving up a husband, a family, and a house in the suburbs. I’d have to forge on and live with the outcome of my findings.
All the downtime made me think unnecessarily, and I gladly welcomed the distractions that work provided when we returned to the office the next day. Through the course of the day, I felt more and more unsettled about what had happened with Michael.
I called his cell. After about five rings, it was clear he wasn’t going to pick up. Yep, voicemail.
“Michael, it’s me. I’m sorry about the way things ended with us yesterday. It wasn’t my intention to upset you. I just needed your insight on a subject, and I thought I could count on your honesty.” This was awkward, trying to be tactful and not sound as guilty as I felt. Keep it simple, Marin. “Call me back if you want to talk.”
I took a deep breath and instantly felt better. It was short lived. A few minutes later, my phone rang. I jumped and my heart skipped a beat at the thought of Michael calling me back to talk about things. Instead, it was Rachel.
“Marin! Oh, my God. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in so long!” Rachel screamed with excitement.
“Well, I’m sure you’ve been busy, being a new wife and all.”
“Yeah, things have been a little crazy. But now that school’s out, I have a whole summer to fill.”
“What’s going on?” I asked, but really wanted to say, what do you want?
“I feel like I’ve waited a fair amount of time. It’s been almost two months, and I want to go on a double date with you and James.” Uh Oh.
“What did you have in mind?”
“Friday night, MicX,” she said like it was the hottest thing.
“Is that a restaurant?”
“It’s a dueling piano bar. I went a few weeks ago with my girlfriends and had a blast.”
“Sounds good. Would you mind if we made it a triple date and brought Telly?” I figured with another couple we’d be less likely to have deep couple on couple chats where the whole conversation was in “wes.”
“Yeah, bring her. We’ll meet you there at eight.”
What did I agree to? A night out with my real friends and my fake boyfriend. It was easy to play the role with James, but a lot harder to pretend with everyone else. Call back. Cancel. No, there was no escaping it. At least Telly would know the truth, and I’d be free to look over to her for reassurance any time throughout the night. That was if I could convince her to go.
With a good hour to kill before my next appointment, I went to the kitchen to make myself a cup of tea. On my way, I noticed Andy reorganizing his bookshelf. I popped my head in.
“What are you up to?” I said. He turned to me briefly, then back at his bookshelf.
“Just trying to de-clutter. You need something?” he asked with his back turned.
“No, just wasting time.”
He whipped his chair around to face me. “Oh, yeah?” he said and motioned me to sit. “Something on your mind?”
“My mind’s always going. Just like
yours.”
He smirked.
I took my seat across from him. “Actually, there’s something I want to get your opinion on.”
“Okay.”
“Will all men cheat?”
He stared right at me without blinking an eye. “Why are you asking?” He leaned back in his chair with his hands steepled in front of him. He looked suspicious of me.
“Come on Andy, I’m not asking you as a therapist. I’m asking you as a man.” I could tell he was trying to get inside my head, as he always was.
“And as a man, I want to know why you’re asking.” This surprised me, because Andy usually took any question or comment and used it as an excuse to talk for ten minutes. Instead, he was responding to my question with a question. Clearly this cheating-man truth thing really was for a privileged few to know.
“It seems the longer I work with couples, the more I discover how frequent infidelity is among men.” It wasn’t a false statement entirely, just a bit exaggerated.
“Well the answer to your question is yes,” he said.
“I knew it,” I said in a victorious whisper. He shrugged. “Why is it such a secret?”
“It’s no secret. I mean, yes, the specific occasions are often kept secret, but the fact itself is widely known. Don’t you already know this stuff?”
“Yes, but statistics say about sixty percent of men cheat, not one hundred percent. I’ve always subscribed to the dads and cads theory, sixty percent are cads, forty percent are dads.”
“You want to know the real difference between dads and cads?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Dads don’t get the right opportunity to cheat, and so they’re faithful by default. They’re no better or more special than the cads. Because dads and cads are all men and men are biologically inclined to spread their seed. You can’t blame ‘em, Mother Nature designed it that way.”
“We’re not wild animals, we were born with a sense of morality. Why can’t they choose to be faithful in the face of opportunity?” I wasn’t trying to debate him because I knew what he said was true. And for the first time in our four years as colleagues, I actually agreed with him. He took a moment as if mentally putting himself in a situation to choose fidelity over infidelity. I saw his dark eyes light up.
“Because they don’t want to. Haven’t you ever looked temptation in the face, known it was wrong, said fuck it, and did it anyway?”
I tried to look back at the various temptations in my life—one too many drinks, one too many cookies, one too few condoms. I made careless mistakes in the past, but I couldn’t think about any vows or major promises broken either.
“It’s not the same thing,” I said.
He walked over to me. “Yes, it is.” He put his hand on my shoulder and led me out of his office. “It’s called being human. We all have good and bad in us, so you better get used to the idea. We work in therapy for God’s sake.”
Once I was safely outside of his office, I opened my mouth to get in another point.
“I have an appointment,” he said. And he closed the door. Figures, the one time I actually wanted to continue a conversation with Andy, he shut me out.
A couple of phone calls and a couple of days later, James and I met Rachel and David at the dueling piano bar. The music was so loud that I could hear the bass of the pianos pounding through my entire body. They were playing a classic 70s rock piano song. The dim lit bar was huge, the stage front and center. Two guys sitting at two baby grand pianos played in unison and sang loudly into their mics. The audience sang as loudly and drunkenly back. Rachel found an empty table toward the back of the bar. Telly was nowhere to be found. Fashionably late as usual.
David and James were at the bar, getting our drinks, when Rachel leaned over to me and shouted in my ear, “How are things with you and James?”
I put my face close to her ear and shouted, “Fine.”
“I’ve never seen him with a girl before. He must think you are really something.” She smiled big like a beauty pageant contestant.
“That’s nice of you to say.”
She shot up out of her chair. “Telly!” she called and waved her arms wildly. Telly was with Will. I was quite puzzled considering the last time we spoke she agreed to stop seeing him. But was I really surprised? No. Telly introduced Will to Rachel, and Will and I greeted each other with slight familiarity. He joined the guys at the bar and a beaming Telly sat next to me.
“This place is really cool. Why haven’t we come here before?” Telly asked.
I was straight faced. “What?” she frowned.
“You know what. What is he doing here?” I kept my stern look, as if I had some kind of authority.
She gave me an unsure shrug. “I like spending time with him.” My stare persisted. “It’s not serious. We’re just having fun.”
If it were any other guy I might have chosen to believe her, but this guy had a special hold over her. One I had only heard of, but would now get to experience first hand.
“It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt,” I said raising a single eyebrow.
“Relax, Marin. It’s fine.”
“What are you guys talking about?” Rachel asked, trying to lean in between us.
Telly and I smiled. “Nothing.”
The guys returned to the table with beers, wine, and cocktails. I was thankful we were on a group date that didn’t require much talk. Instead, we sipped our drinks and listened as they played one familiar song after the other. The more we drank, the more we sang along, and within an hour we were all shout-singing and playing air piano, which I never knew existed until then.
James leaned in. “I can’t believe how much fun this is!”
“I know.” And I actually meant it. With the mask of booze and loud music it was easy to play the part. I took a big gulp of my margarita and heard an intro to a classic song that filled me with excitement. Telly and I turned to each other with huge grins.
“I love this song,” James said.
“Me too!” I shouted.
“You wanna dance?”
“Yeah.”
James grabbed my hand, and we rushed over to the bar where there was just enough room for us to snag a spot. We swayed to the music, singing to each other. I didn’t know if it was the song or the drinks, but in that moment with James, I was able to let all of the stress, the cheating, the lying, and the pretending go. I felt free as a bird as he spun me around on the dance floor. In the blur of the song and the dance, I saw Telly, Will, David, and Rachel out on the dance floor with us.
For the first time in a long time, I was truly enjoying myself. I slowly looked at the faces of those I shared the moment with and noticed there was one important face missing. Holly. We hadn’t spoken in so long, and I was starting to forget what it was like having her around all the time. I missed her and felt guilty that I hadn’t thought of her much since she’d been gone. Back at our table, I sat beside Rachel.
“Have you heard from Holly?” I asked.
“Not since that email she sent everyone a few weeks ago.”
“I wish she was here now,” I said, feeling a little tear surfacing.
“Me too.” Rachel pouted her lip trying to sympathize with me. I forced a smile and she returned it.
“I need another drink,” I shouted. James kissed my face and headed to the bar.
Within another hour, I had consumed three more drinks. I was lit to say the least. David and Rachel were near the bar, dancing to the piano version of a 90s hip-hop song, Telly was in the ladies room, and James was getting another beer for himself. It was good ‘ole Will and me. Throughout the night, I tried to ignore his presence or at least my preconceived notions about his presence. But I was drunk and feeling ballsy.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I shouted at him over the music.
“What?” He cupped his ear.
“What do you think you’re doing? With Telly?” I shouted louder. He twisted his expression.<
br />
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, I know all about your history together, how you’ve mistreated her in the past. Probably cheated on her a few times. I’m not gonna sit back and watch you hurt her again.”
“It’s not my intention to hurt her.”
“Save it, Will. You might be fooling her, but you’re not fooling me.” I sat back in my chair, arms crossed. Will leaned over, but I wouldn’t look at his face.
“I know we don’t know each other very well, but believe it or not, I care a lot about her.” I rolled my eyes.
“How can she ever trust you?” I yelled, then Telly appeared to my right.
“What’s going on?” she asked, looking really concerned.
“Nothing,” Will said as he sat back in his seat.
“Not nothing!” I shouted and stood up. Everyone returned to our table just in time for the show.
“He’s a liar, Telly. Can’t you see that?” I blurted out while a diminishing sober voice inside of me screamed shut up, SHUT UP! “They’re all liars, every single one of them.” Not only had I lost my inhibition, but I had lost control. There I was making a scene in front of everyone and I couldn’t stop it.
“Why can’t you tell her the truth?” I said to Will. He glanced around at everyone with a disbelieving expression as if to say I was being ridiculous.
“Marin, what’s going on?” James asked.
Telly grabbed hold of me, and pulled me away from the table, toward the bathroom. She ordered me to sit on the counter while she put cool, wet paper towels on my neck and blotted my forehead with them.
“Shit, Marin. I know you don’t like Will, but you have to pull yourself together,” she said.
My stomach churned, and I hopped off the counter and ran into the stall. There was no time to shut the door before I started yakking into the toilet. Telly came in after me and held my hair away from my face.
“Oh, God.” She grimaced.
When I was finished, Telly helped me back to the sink where I washed my hands and splashed cold water on my face. My head felt a little clearer, but my heart filled with regret. Why had I said those things to Will in front of everyone? When did the night turn sour?
