Watching Natalie Cheat

by K T Morrison

  Footsteps came then, slippery socks on hardwood. It was Natalie, standing in their little Christmas-time den they’d made for this evening. Standing there in her socks and her XXL T-shirt, looking down on him with her hands clasped together over her stomach. He would love to see her face, see her expression, but couldn’t with the pillow back over his head.

  Then she was coming to him, coming to the couch where he lay, putting a knee up, straddling him, then getting behind him and laying down. She wriggled in the narrow space behind him, nestling her body against him, spooning him from behind. She put an arm around him, her hand coming up to the center of his chest, hugging him tightly. Her little chin pressed into his neck and she kissed the back of his ear. The pillow he hid behind fell to the floor. He brought a hand up and covered hers, squeezed her hand tightly and pressed it into him. She hugged him tighter and a warm feeling of love spread from his heart to the tips of his toes and fingers.

  Renny came then, and Nelson watched him through narrowed eyes. He looked disturbed, looking at the two of them as they lay on the couch together, then going to the other side and laying himself down. He had his T-shirt and jeans back on, still with that prominent bulge. He fiddled with the remote for a minute and when he had it figured he turned the television off and the room went dark and quiet.

  CHAPTER 22

  NATALIE

  When Natalie woke at 5 A.M. it was because her stomach had turned sour and she was sure she would throw up. Eyes open and fluttering, still holding onto her beloved husband, the awful shame and regret fell over her again. It had really happened. Those terrible things that kept her listless were real. She touched her cheek. She’d been crying. Could see stains of tears on Nelson’s neck. She kissed them.

  Then, across from them, laying on their couch, the man that she had done it with.

  Shame and regret washed away with anger. The anger felt good in its place. She got up, careful not to disturb Nelson, throwing a leg over him to stand next to the couch. She crouched, moved to Renny, looked at him. That handsome face with his olive complexion and his thick beard. He had his arms folded across his chest. His stupid tattooed arms.

  Between his legs, she noted that huge thing of his had deflated. Probably still pretty huge, but not evident as it was last night.

  “Hey,” she said in a sharp whisper, poking him with all five fingers on his shoulder. “Hey, get up.”

  Renny’s eyebrows raised, but he remained asleep.

  “Up, fucker. Get up.” She pushed on his shoulder harder. He grunted, those raised eyebrows lowered now into a frown. He grunted a noise in his throat.

  She took his wrist and unfolded his arms, getting his eyes to open at last.

  “What the fuck? …” he groaned.

  “Get up, asshole,” she said.

  “Get up? … What? …”

  “Get off my couch,” she said.

  “Natalie, what’s going on?” he said.

  “What’s going on is I need you to get the fuck out of my house.”

  “What? …” he said, still groggy, rubbing his eyes. Overnight the swelling where that girl had punched him went down. He could see from it and it was only puffy now, turning a mottled ocher.

  “You need to get up and get out of my house.”

  He turned on the couch and looked out the window. “Natalie, it’s still dark out.”

  “I don’t care,” she said.

  “Natalie, it’s okay. Calm down.”

  “Don’t tell me to calm down,” she said, and she grabbed his wrist again, stepping back and pulling him up to stand. “So just grab your shit and get out of here. Call a taxi from the street … there’s a coffee shop out on Market.”

  “I know,” he said. “I just don’t—”

  She bent and picked up his leather and his denim, thrusted it into his chest. “Come on, let’s go. I’m serious.”

  “Okay,” he said, shaking his head now but going along behind her, following her and stepping up into the foyer.

  “I’m sorry I’m being a bitch, but you can’t be here when Nelson wakes up.”

  “Feeling guilty?”

  She punched him hard in the chest with her balled up fist. “Yes, I’m fucking feeling guilty. Can you point out something else that’s fucking obvious? …”

  He held up both hands in surrender and said, “Natalie, just fucking relax. I mean it. You’re going to be okay …”

  “No, I’m not. Probably not. Do you know what a piece of shit I am?”

  “You’re not a piece of shit,” Renny said, and made a move like he wanted to hold her arms.

  She stepped back and moved her arms away, saying, “Don’t touch me.”

  “It’s not as bad as you think.”

  “You’d say that. You would fucking say that. You have no idea how life works. You’re not even married. No one would ever trust you …”

  “Hey, come on now, I didn’t ask for that …”

  “Would you just go, please?” she said, a desperate whine in her voice now.

  “Fine,” he said, and he put his hand on the doorknob. “I was going to take you guys out for breakfast today.”

  “Go,” she said.

  “Talk to Nelson, okay?”

  “About what?”

  “It’s going to be okay, Natalie. Nelson will be okay, too. You’ll see …”

  “Go-ooo,” she said, crossing her arms.

  He opened the door, and stood in the cold draft. He looked in her eyes and said, “I’m pretty sure Nelson watched us.”

  She punched him again. This time in the shoulder. “Get the fuck out of here already.”

  “Ow, Natalie, don’t,” he said, but he took a step back and out of their house onto the porch. She held the door but couldn’t close it with his foot still in the way. “Natalie, I’m saying this because I don’t want you to be upset.”

  “That makes me upset, asshole. Don’t make shit up to make me feel better.”

  “I’m not making it up, Natalie. He practically told me to go in the kitchen and f—”

  “Get the fuck out, Renny!” She kicked the toe of his shoe and when he withdrew it she slammed the door closed. Such a fucking asshole.

  She waited with her back pressed to the door. Listened for his footsteps. Finally they came, him turning away from the door, the sound of his iPhone making a call. Then he was walking down the steps, and she peeked out the amber window and saw his warbling shape lit under a streetlight as he walked through the snow toward Market Street.

  “Good,” she whispered.

  Then she stood for a long moment in the foyer, her toes curled over the edge of the step down to the family room and watched her husband sleep. The thought that he watched what they did last night put a spike in her stomach. There was no way he watched that. He would murder her, and she would beg for death. Her poor man curled up on the couch fast asleep, no idea what a terrible person his wife was. God, and he loved her so much. She wasn’t even worthy, but she knew she loved him back even more.

  CHAPTER 23

  NELSON

  When Nelson woke at 7 A.M. it was with a sense of dread. But as his eyes fluttered and he took in the Christmas tree, lights still twinkling, the family room lit up in pale early-morning gray it was extinguished. Everything seemed back in place. Renny was no longer here. He sensed it, and had a strange notion that Natalie had woken him and told him to leave.

  Natalie slept pressed to him all night. Her arm wrapped around him, her fingers scratching at his chest, hugging herself tighter and tighter to him. And he loved it, loved the feel of her against him, loved the emotions that came with it. She covered him with a blanket. She snuggled him and kissed his ear and his neck. Twice she woke him with her crying. Soft sobbing against his back, her poor body trembling. He clutched her hand tighter in those moments.

  He sat up now, smelled food. Delicious food. He rose and tugged at the leg of his pajamas, felt them stiff from his semen.

  Natalie was in the kitch
en, the lights on, moving around in there between the oven and the islands. He passed through the vestibule from where he spied her cheating on him and stood in the archway and watched her. Bacon sizzling in a pan, coffee was on, she had made pancakes …

  “Hey,” he said and she whipped around. In that brief instant he saw fear in her eyes. He saw an enormous regret there, his wife wanting the events of last night to never have transpired. He was fine with that.

  “Hey,” she said softly. Then, “Good morning,” her eyes turning wet in an instant, making her blink it away. She sniffled and then came to him and hugged him.

  He held her in his arms and said, “What’s going on in here?”

  “I’m just making you breakfast,” she said. “Before you go to work.”

  “You’ve been busy,” he said.

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said and scratched his back with her nails. “Come on and sit at the table,” she whispered.

  He walked to the sink and washed his hands while she returned to the stove. She’d cleaned. The sink completely scrubbed, the countertops gleaming. He could smell strong bleach. He said, “You’ve been cleaning.”

  “I’ve been up for a while,” she said, flipping the bacon over.

  “I wish I didn’t have to go to work today,” he said, and leaned his elbows on the island where she’d been fucked from behind and had her asshole licked.

  “Me too,” she said. “Really, me too.”

  With tongs, she moved bacon onto paper towels folded on a plate. Staring at the bacon for a moment, she set the tongs down, turned and faced him, her eyes wet again. She came to the opposite side of the island and extended her hands across to him. He held them.

  She said, “When you get home tonight we’re going to do it all over again, okay?”

  “Do what over?”

  “Our Christmas-time cheer.”

  “What about your sister?”

  “I’m not going.”

  “You’re not?”

  “No. I already called her. I’m staying here. I want to be with you. When you get home tonight, we’re going to have a big dinner. It’s our Christmas. We’re going to put ourselves in that little den again, we’re going to watch those movies like they should have been watched last night.”

  “You’re going to stay with me?” he said with a smile.

  “No phone calls tonight,” she said. “And if anyone comes to the door, we’re not going to answer.”

  “Sounds perfect,” he said

  “Nelson, I love you so much.”

  “I love you, too,” he said, then reached to touch her face. He rubbed his thumb near the bruise on her chin, saying, “What happened here? Did you hurt your chin?”

  “I don’t remember,” she said, closing her eyes. “I really don’t remember.”

  “It’s like it never even happened,” he said.

  AFTERWORD

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