by Cheri Wood
Tom doesn’t speak for another mile or so. Then he abruptly pulls the car over to the side of the road and I stare at him, bewildered. He turns off the engine and unbuckles his seat belt, turning in his seat to face me.
“I don’t want a divorce.”
“Really? Because I haven’t exactly felt like your wife in a long time. Most of the time, you treat me like I’m not even there.”
“I’ve just been busy lately. Work is… it’s taking a lot out of me.”
“I’m tired too, Tom. But I’m still here. I’m trying to be your wife, but you won’t let me. You act like you don’t want me anymore, and if that’s the case, maybe-“
He cuts me off with a hard kiss. I’m surprised, as I can’t remember the last time he kissed me, but I open for him. His fingers tangle in my hair as he holds me firmly in place, plundering my mouth like a Viking in a village. When he pulls back, we’re both breathing heavily. Without losing eye contact, he reaches behind him and pulls on a lever. His seat slides back and he spreads his legs.
“Straddle me,” he says in a low voice and I crawl across the center console to do ask he asks. I unzip his pants and for once, he’s hard for me. I lick two fingers and lubricate myself, then I slide onto him. I move my hips as he pulls the straps of my dress down to bare my breasts. One by one, he molds them between his palms and suckles the tips.
“Come for me,” he pants, barely holding back his own release and I realize I’m nowhere near the edge. So I do the unthinkable. I close my eyes, find my clit with my fingers, and picture Mr. Hush. As Tom lets go with a groan, I feel a tear slide down my cheek.
IX
The next couple of days are more confusing than ever. For starters, Tom is home in time for dinner and he actually eats it with me and we watch TV together. He’s apologized for being distant with me, saying he’s trying to make partner at the firm and has a lot of hoops to jump through. He hasn’t apologized for being a jerk, but I guess I’m to assume that’s also due to the pressure he’s under.
At the office, it’s strangely empty even though I have plenty of work to do. I guess I hadn’t realized how much space Nick takes up just by being on the premises.
I meet with Mr. Hush every lunch break and, with Nick out of the office, I stay a little longer than scheduled. He’s not there in person, though. Instead, he’s on Skype, typing me messages while I talk. We cover safe topics, such as current events and holiday plans. We don’t talk about our families or our work. I’ve promised not to lie about anything, as has he. If there is something we don’t want the other person to know, we just say so. It’s as honest a relationship as any. Except it’s not a relationship. It’s a way to pass the time.
On Friday, the fifth day in a row I’ve met with Mr. Hush via Skype and he hasn’t once asked me to take my clothes off or touch myself for his viewing pleasure, I start to wonder what his plans are for the future. Is he losing interest and wants to end our sessions and this is his way of fazing me out? Does he want something more than what we’ve been doing since our first meeting?
“Are you ever going to let me see your face?” I ask with a sigh, leaning in close to the computer screen.
Yes
I sit up straight at that. Is he serious? “When?”
When the time is right
“Hush, we’ve been having sex for months and months. You’ve seen every inch of my body, and I’ve gotten a good feel for yours. It doesn’t matter to me what you look like. You could have three eyes and two noses for all I care, I’d still-” What? Love him? Fuck him?
Maybe it’s not about me being ready
“What do you want from me? What do you need me to be ready for?”
Honesty
“Yours or mine?”
Both
With that last message, he logs off, leaving me dumbfounded.
GCS
“How was your week?” Tom asks as I sit down on the couch next to him with a glass of wine in my hand.
“Exhausting.” I sigh and close my eyes, leaning my head back.
“Astor keeping you busy, huh?”
“He’s still out of town, meaning I’m left alone to deal with all his incoming phone calls and emails.”
“Has he hired another firm to handle his legal affairs?”
“Tom… I couldn’t tell you if I knew.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He pats my leg a little, then lingers, stroking up and down. I’m wearing yoga pants, so he doesn’t exactly have easy access. That doesn’t change the fact that his touch is making my skin warm up, though.
“What about you?” I ask, hearing my voice come out a bit breathless. “How was your week?”
“Long and boring. I’ve been buried in work.” He removes his hand from my thigh and grabs his beer instead.
“How’s the partnership race going?”
“It’s not so much a race as it is a marathon. With hurdles. In rough terrain. Speaking of, we’re supposed to go on a teambuilding retreat next weekend, so I won’t be home until late Sunday night.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not sure about cell reception, either. We’re supposed to go camping somewhere up-state.”
“That’s fine. Be sure to pack some flares.”
“Will do.”
I doze off on the couch to a movie I’ve seen before and when I wake up, there’s a different movie on. When did we get cable? I look over at where Tom sat before I fell asleep and he’s still there, only now he’s got his hand down his sweatpants and I see him stroking himself hard. I sit up and he notices me for the first time. He looks embarrassed, but before he can remove his hand, I’m on my knees in front of him.
“Can I help?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper. I slide my hands up his thighs to tug on his waistband and he grits his teeth. Then he grabs the remote control and turns the sound up. With fake moaning blaring in the background, I get to work on getting actual moans and groans out of my husband. I’m not sure if it’s my doing when he shoots and scores, or if the cheerleaders in the background are to thank, but either way, he’s sated and I kiss him goodnight before I head to bed.
GCS
For the first time in months, maybe even years, Tom and I spend the whole weekend together. We go out to dinner and drinks in the city, then check into a hotel – not the Marquis – and order room service. We watch dirty movies on Pay-per-view and get each other off.
He’s making me remember the good times we’ve had, covering up the rest of our lives with rose petals. But reality is still there underneath, like sticky tar that will suck us both in once the roses wilt.
I’ve had sex with dozens of men over the past couple of years – for money. Tom and I have gone weeks, sometimes months, without being intimate. He’s continuously put me down and made me feel smaller than a pebble under his shoe. And, worst of all, I’ve fallen for a client. Not long ago, I was getting ready to leave Tom. We have too many issues to resolve over the course of a weekend. I’m not sure we can ever return to what we once were.
“I think we should go back to the fertility clinic.”
“What?” I pull away from him.
“Just to see if there’s been any development. They’re coming up with new techniques all the time.”
“Tom… I can’t have a baby.” The fear washes over me. Right now, it’s just us. I can still walk away and only two people will have to bear the consequences. Not to mention what would happen if the truth ever came out about Gold Club Staffing. Our reputations may be ruined, but we could leave the state if need be. If we had a child, one day he or she might stumble across something about my past mistakes and they’d be a laughing stock.
“I know the doctor said that the last time, but there might be new treatments available now.”
“No.” I shake my head. Not because of my lack of faith in science, but because a baby is the last thing we should be bringing into our marriage.
“Really, Callie, you’re being unreasonable. All I’m asking is that w
e go meet with the doctors again.”
“Why is this suddenly so important? Is it because of your parents?”
“No, of course not.”
“Then what? You were perfectly content with our life a week ago, you said so yourself.”
“Well, I wouldn’t put it like that.”
“Then how would you put it?”
“Look, all the partners at the firm are family men. I stand a better chance of making partner if-“
“I can’t believe this!” I throw back the covers and start pulling my clothes on. “You want to start a family to get a promotion? Fuck. You.”
I can’t believe he’s pulled the wool over my eyes like this. Clearly, I’m way too gullible.
“Callie!”
“I think we need to spend some time apart to reevaluate this marriage. Like a lot.”
“What are you talking about?”
“A trial separation. Or should we just skip right to drafting the divorce papers? You know any good lawyers?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I’m dead serious. I’m going home and getting my stuff. Don’t contact me.”
“Where are you going to stay? You don’t have any friends.”
“I’ll figure it out.” I throw the last of my things into my overnight bag and stride out of the suite, slamming the door behind me.
GCS
I wake from my fitful slumber with the sound of a voice being cleared not too far from me. I instinctively hug the sheet to my chest even though I’m wearing pajamas, sitting up with a start. My searching eyes land on a figure in the doorway, his arms crossed as he lounges against the doorpost.
“Nick!”
“Good morning. I can’t say I expected you at the office so early in the morning. Now, that’s dedication.”
“I’m sorry. I couldn’t think of anywhere else to go.”
He frowns and steps into the room. “What’s wrong?”
His cologne is faint, but familiar in so many ways. The smell makes me feel safe even though I can’t understand why.
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
“Come on, Callie,” he says and sits down on the edge of the bed, “you don’t really expect me to believe that, do you?”
My gaze drops to the comforter, where my fingers have left creases from gripping it so hard. “Okay. But can I ask you a favor first?”
“Sure.”
“Do you think it would be possible for me to rent the living quarters here at the office? Just for a little while, until I figure something out.”
“Of course you can stay here. But I have to ask…”
“I’m… I need a break. From… life.”
“I hate to break it to you, but there are no breaks from life. Unless you count the full stop at the end.”
“I need a break from my life,” I clarify. Not that he didn’t know what I was saying. “Tom and I have decided on a trial separation.” Well, I decided, but he doesn’t need to know the specifics.
“I’m sorry.”
“Well, it is what it is.” I try to shrug, but it feels odd. It’s not like I’m unconcerned about it all, more like I can’t bear to think about it. “I just have to figure out where we go from here.”
“Listen, if you need to talk to someone to work things through… I have a friend who’s a therapist. I could give you her number.”
“Thanks. But I’m good.”
“Okay. Well, I’ll let you get dressed. I have a conference call starting in-“ he checks his wrist watch, “two minutes. I’ll be in my office.”
“All right. Thank you.”
“Oh, and help yourself to the bathroom. I’m afraid I don’t have anything floral scented in there, so you might want to stock up.”
“Thanks for the head’s up.” I manage a smile and he returns it before shutting the bedroom door behind him.
GCS
Tom adheres to my no-contact rule and I bury myself in work. I have a feeling Nick is purposely keeping me busy so I won’t have time for overthinking, because some of the work he’s passing off is really basic - things he usually would do himself because it would be quicker - and some of the work is really advanced – things he would usually have someone else look into.
With the extra workload, I haven’t had time to take any lunch meetings and I’ve been too exhausted at the end of the day to handle evening meetings. Mr. Hush is out of the country on business and has postponed our meetings until a later date, and the other clients seem happy to be meeting with the other associates. I can’t help but think that Mr. Hush has somehow seen to it that I’m not being booked for meetings with other clients. I don’t even want to guess how much that’s costing him.
“What do you think of this one?” Nick says, passing a folder with a prospectus over to me where we sit in the living room. Ever since I formally moved in two weeks ago, we’ve been spending less time in our respective offices and more time in the common areas.
I set the previous folder aside and take the new one from him, tucking my legs under me. My heels are on the plush throw rug and I’ve already lost my jacket. I’m still put together, though, wearing a pencil skirt and a blouse. It would be so easy to change into sweats and curl up on the couch while working, but there needs to be a clear line between work and rest or I might end up either always working or always relaxing.
Nick doesn’t wear a tie and his shirt is unbuttoned at the collar. No chest hair peeking out – I’ve checked. I wonder if he’s smooth all over. I’ve booked his appointments at the spa, so I know he gets at least some part of his body waxed. It’s not the face, because his five o’clock shadow is prominent.
“I like the colors,” I say with a shrug and close the folder again.
“Callie, come on.”
“You know I don’t know the first thing about investments.” I sigh. “You might as well be asking a blow-up doll for financial advice.”
Nick gives me an odd look and puts his own folder down. “Why would you say that?”
“I’m not smart the way you are, okay? I didn’t go to business school or anything like that. I do a pretty good job of organizing things and I can handle people, but this…” I gesture to the stack of folders on the table. “I can’t tell you what’s a good investment and what’s not.”
“You have opinions, don’t you? Thoughts, ideas, personal preferences?”
“Yeah, but-“
“But nothing. Some investments don’t look good on paper, but your gut tells you to take a risk. You learn to trust your gut. My point is, don’t put yourself down, Callie.”
I shrug. “Okay, so the blow-up doll analogy was a bit extreme.” If he only knew... “I guess I’m just tired.”
“We can call it a night if you like. It’s past seven, after all.”
“All right.”
“Are you hungry? I could order something in. Or I can attempt to cook.”
“Oh, you’re staying?” I ask, surprised he isn’t off to some gala dinner or something.
“Is that a problem?”
“No. I mean, it’s your office.”
“Well, technically, I’m currently in your living room, so…”
“I promise I won’t occupy your space for much longer,” I’m quick to point out. “I have a couple of leads on some places to rent.”
“Oh? In the city?”
“No. None that I can afford, anyway. It’s a bit of a commute, but that’s nothing new.”
“You’re welcome to stay here, you know that, right? I mean, I realize that in the long run, it’s not ideal-”
“I just don’t want to overstay my welcome. And I really should be paying you rent.”
“If you insist on paying rent, I’ll just have to raise your salary, and that won’t make anyone happier except the IRS.”
“It might make me a little bit happier, too,” I tease and he laughs.
“So, dinner?”
“Pizza?”
“You got it.”
/> X
“Nick?” I knock on his open door to announce myself.
“Yes?”
“I noticed you haven’t RSVP’d for the New Faces Award dinner,” I say, checking the calendar on my phone. “It’s this Saturday.”
“I thought the response time had run out on that one.”
“They really want you there. But you have to let them know by tomorrow.”
“That award is as shallow as they come.”
“Maybe so, but the proceeds from the cover charge go to the burn unit to fund reconstructive surgery on children. It’s a really good cause.”
“Okay, but if I have to sit through a whole dinner with these people, I need someone to talk to. Put me down for two tickets and clear your schedule for Saturday night.”
“All right.” I start typing a response and then his words connect. “Wait- you want me to be your plus-one?”
“Why not?”
“Well, don’t you want to bring a date? What about that woman you were seeing?”
“What woman?”
“The one you brought to the charity dinner where we first met. Blonde. Stacked.”
“Doesn’t ring any bells.”
I frown, oddly disappointed in him, and Nick chuckles. “I know who you mean, and no, I wasn’t seeing her then and I’m certainly not seeing her now. I told you, I want to bring someone I can talk to. Will you join me this Saturday? Please?”
I think about it. It’s not like I have plans, and it’s highly unlikely that any of Tom’s colleagues will be at the New Faces Award dinner.
“Callie?”
“Okay. I’ll go. But I need a new dress. And I think I’ll go shopping for it on my extended lunch break today.”
The smile falls from Nick’s lips and he shifts in his seat. “How about I come with you?” he says, not looking at me as he taps away at his keyboard.
