A Famous Affair

by K. B. Mallion

Jonny’s mouth lightly caresses my ear. “I want to make love to you, Jessica. I need to take back what is mine. Every single part of you belongs to me. I have to reclaim what is mine. Do you understand?” With a nod I show him I understand his need to possess me . . . to own me, once again.

  He gently lays me down onto the bed, caressing my arms and thighs with his adoring, unhurried fingers. His soft cushioned lips trace over my neck and my shoulders with possessing precision. Cupping my breast, he squeezes it gently so the feather light touch arouses me. I undress him, easing his clothing seductively over his head. With the gentlest of kisses, I trace the contours of his arms, shoulders and neck. My fingers delightfully run across his torso, back and neck, gliding across his taut and defined body. This man is so fucking beautiful! He closes his eyes, quietly moaning. My mouth searches for his. Only his kiss will satisfy my unsettled soul.

  Our kiss is content and calm, light and loving until I playfully bite his lip. He opens his eyes, quickly pulling me to him. He feels for the side zip of my beautiful dress, slowly pulling it down. As it loosens and reveals my exposed breasts, he fondles them. Teasingly taking them into his parted mouth, he tugs on them with his teeth. I moan in ecstasy, it feels so damn good. With my erect nipple still in his hot mouth, I slide my dress completely off and unbutton his jeans. His erection taunts me through the material and I cannot wait to set it free. I help Jonny pull them off; he impatiently kicks the crumpled denim to the floor. He quickly returns to what he was doing, sucking hard on my sensitive nipples. My blissful breath catches. I moan loud against his neck. He then stops his divine assault on my breasts to caress me once more. His light fingers trace invisible lines all over my stomach, breasts and neck with the sensual sweep of his hands.

  “Turn over,” he commands. I instinctively do as I am asked. He straddles my ass as he begins to caress my shoulders, bending down to kiss and lick the back of my neck. I can feel his hard cock on my lower back and it turns me on, so fucking much. I lay there as his seducing mouth arouses every single part of me. His kisses are moving lower and lower until I feel him stop absolutely dead. “What the fuck are these?” I hear the disgust in Jonny’s voice. He quickly jumps off me and sits at the end of the bed. I turn around to face him.

  “What?” I ask, still recovering from the loss of his touch against my body.

  “Jessica, you have bloody bite marks on your back and ass.” Jonny’s face is dark with anger; twisted in disgusted shock. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! The champagne and Denley made me foolishly forget about Shawn’s bite marks. I suddenly feel weighted down by the fact that Jonny has discovered them in this way. Fuck!

  I swallow hard. “They are from Shawn.” I stare down at the bed, too fearful to look at Jonny’s fuming face.

  “I don’t fucking believe this.” Before I know it, Jonny is standing at the foot of the bed. Pulling up his trousers with an unforgiving anger written all over his face.

  I weakly try to explain. “We went out last night and I got drunk. We must have had sex and he got carried away.”

  Jonny’s eyes narrow. “Are you telling me that you don’t actually remember fucking your husband?”

  I look at my feet. “Not much of it . . . no. I only realised today what had happened while I was dressing for the party. I was with Anna when I saw them.”

  Jonny’s breathing is erratic, his hard stare immobilises me. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because I didn’t want you to look at me the way that you are now!”

  “Did Anna see them?”

  “Yes . . . I showed her.”

  Jonny throws his arms in the air and looks up at the ceiling. “Well, that’s just fucking great. Everyone knew about the marks except me, it would seem?”

  “I’m sorry.” I try to apologise.

  “Sorry for fucking your husband or sorry for fucking your husband and having a great time?”

  “You know it’s not like that, Jonny.” I try to tell him.

  “Well, please do tell me what it’s like then, Jessica! Because right now, those bite marks show me you’ve had a great fucking time!” Jonny’s voice gets louder.

  “I don’t remember him biting me, I was too drunk.” Once again, I desperately try to explain.

  “Shit, Jessica. First Denley, now this. It is hard enough knowing you have sex with your husband, but to see what he does to you whilst having sex . . . it’s too much to bear.” He storms into the bathroom, as though he’s trying to calm himself down by putting some distance between us. I pull a sheet over my shamed self, protectively bringing up my knees to my chest.

  “I’m sorry, Jonny. I was too drunk to even care last night.” I painfully say.

  Jonny angrily storms back into the bedroom. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Everything has been getting on top of me lately. I just had a really bad day yesterday, so I drank to forget it all.”

  Jonny’s hands now rest on his hips. “You never said anything about having a bad day?”

  “I didn’t want to worry you.”

  “So instead, you get pissed and have dirty fucking sex with your husband?”

  I sigh. “It wasn’t like that.”

  “So tell me, Jessica. I really need some help here; I am currently drowning in the vision of you with him. WHAT THE FUCKING HELL IS IT LIKE?” His now beyond angry shout, makes me jump. I put my head between my knees, feeling like I am about to explode with all the emotions rushing through my veins. With his back to me, Jonny is finding it hard to control himself. He takes a long deep breath, turning back around to face me. I know he is having to dig so very deep, just to remain calm. “This was meant to be a special day, only now, it has been ruined.” Jonny stops, holding up his index finger. “I get to spend one afternoon and one night with you. Shawn gets to have you all of the other times. I honestly don’t think I can share you anymore, Jessica. It’s too fucking painful.” He sweeps his hand across his furious brow.

  I lift my head up to look at him. He is already emotionally pulling away from me. I am losing the most incredible man to walk this Earth and I can’t do one fucking thing about it. Cloud nine is a very high place to free-fall from. Tears fill my eyes and the will to stop them has left me. I start to sob, a sob that takes my breath, constricts my throat and tightens my chest. I am ceasing to function because I know I am losing him.

  Jonny is quickly by my side. “Jessica, I’m sorry. Please don’t cry.” He sits by my feet, placing his hand on my knees, but touching me conflicts him. He is trying to offer me some comfort, yet it’s killing him to do so. What have I done to him?

  “I’m so sorry, Jonny.” I whimper.

  I feel Jonny’s grip on my knees, tighten. “We can’t keep doing this to one another, Jessica. You know this has to stop, don’t you? We are torturing ourselves. We don’t even realise it, but we are literally ripping chunks out of one another. I am so fucking scared we will end up hating each other. I don’t want that to happen. I can live loving you, but I can’t live hating you.”

  I look at him through glazed and confused eyes. He loves me? The tears won’t stop; the pain I feel inside is excruciating. Regardless of his words. I know I have already lost him and it’s all my fault. I try to speak but only a choked sob and barely audible words leave my pathetic mouth, “You love me?” I ask. I just need to hear him say it . . . if only just this once.

  “Yes.” Is all he says.

  Our sorrowful eyes lock. All the happiness and hope that once filled them has now gone. Jonny cannot bear it any longer; he looks away. “But you think you’ll end up hating me?” I ask quietly.

  Jonny warily moves closer. “Listen to me, Jessica. That’s my point; I am in love with you. Don’t you understand that? I fucking love you so much I can barely breathe. I know you’ll never leave Shawn and I wouldn’t ask you to. I thought I had a handle on things but I don’t. I just can’t cope with this anymore. I cannot share you anymore. I have tried to ignore my thoughts and feelings; I tell myself all the time if this
is what I have to accept to have you in my life, then I’ll do it. But I’ve fallen in love with you. I need you in my life. Tonight I have realised that it’s never going to happen. It is slowly killing me every time I have to say good-bye to you. I just can’t do it anymore . . . I just can’t. I’d rather walk away loving you now than to stay and end up despising you. I cannot keep torturing myself, week on week, to only end up hating you. I won’t do it, Jessica.” He stands, walking to the door. He pauses before opening it. “I am going to sleep in one of the other rooms. Simon will take you home in the morning.”

  His aloofness hurts so much; I have never experienced it before. I want to cling onto him and never let go, but why prolong his agony when I know I can’t say the words he wants to hear? What we have isn’t enough for him anymore. I knew this day would eventually come. It was only a matter of time before Jonny would have to walk away. I am too weak to make a decision, but he is strong, so he’s made the decision for me. The hurt I have caused him is plain to see. His pain is something that courses through me. It’s that very pain that is currently the only thing that reminds me, I am still alive. All my other emotions have been suffocated by what I have done to him.

  “I’m so sorry, Jessica. If I thought there could be any other way I’d do it, you know I would.” His angst-ridden eyes and quivering chin literally rips my heart out.

  I bravely look at him through my still-falling tears, the duvet being the only thing that now brings comfort to my chilled and broken body. “I understand, Jonny.” I mumble.

  “Goodbye, Jessica.” His words stab through my heart . . . over and over again. My tears drown my already damp cheeks as the door closes behind him. Everything hurts! It hurts to think, to feel . . . it hurts to even breathe. I look at the now closed door; willing him to walk back in and throw his arms around me, to tell me it is all going to be okay. With each passing second I realise he’s not going to. It’s over! He’s really gone! Why does it hurt so fucking much? In my head, I continue to scream out the words I should have told him. I love you too, Jonny! I love you more than I can ever understand! More than I have ever loved anyone before! I curl up into a foetal ball on the bed, which should have been where Jonny was going to be beside me. Knowing that this was it . . . it’s finally over!

  Today has been a day full of revelations. Today was the first time I’d actually admitted to myself, just how much I was in love with Jonny. It is okay to say it to myself, but I was too afraid to say it to him. If I had said those words to him, it would have meant our relationship was evolving. The progression of our relationship would involve having the unthinkable conversation about leaving my husband and hurting my girls. That was something I just couldn’t yet face and Jonny knew it. I was fully aware of how Jonny found it incredibly hard to think about me and Shawn. I remember his reaction when he first found out we were still having sex. God, that seems like a lifetime ago now. I knew someday, something would have to give. Today was that day. Maybe the terrible feeling I had all day yesterday was some kind of foreboding? My sixth sense that was trying to tell me, “your life was about to shatter into unfixable pieces.”

  I guess it doesn’t really matter anymore. My punishment for falling in love with another man; is not being able to be with that man. I have to sacrifice my own feelings to spare my husband and daughters, of theirs. I knew my being married was slowly killing Jonny; killing us.

  I deserve all of the pain and anguish for doing that to him.

  Although Shawn, Lissy and Lottie are all blissfully unaware, I deserve every hurting bit of it because of what I have done to them, too. I deserve to suffer in silence for every cruel fucking thing I have ever done. I was mad to think I could carry on with both Jonny and Shawn, but I was too afraid to confront my feelings. I knew I was in love with Jonny, but I couldn’t hurt Shawn and the girls. So I kept going, when all along I knew I was on borrowed time.

  The closing of the door is ironic. Jonny has closed the door to us. I wasn’t going to beg and plead. That would be selfish. Jonny wanted me to make a decision but it was one that was too painful and impossible to make. So Jonny made the decision for me. He loved me enough to let me go. His desperate actions, only makes me love him even more.

  The next morning I feel awful. No, I feel wretched, desolate, empty and weak. My head is aching; my shoulders are, too. I go to the bathroom and look at my shattered reflection. My face is puffy, swollen and full of despair. I turn on the shower then hear a gentle tap on the door. I hesitate to open it. There stands a ruddy cheeked, plumpish lady in her fifties. Her small, sweet eyes crinkle at the corners when she smiles at me.

  “Hello, Mrs. Neel. I am Mr. Riley’s housekeeper, Mary. Would you like me to get you anything?” I want to scream hysterically, YES . . . a new fucking life, a one-way ticket to a place where nobody can find me, a large stone to crawl under!

  “Uh . . . could I have a sweet tea and just a little toast, please? Is Jonny here?” I ask quietly.

  “No, Mrs. Neel, he left early this morning. He had an early radio interview.”

  “I see.” My heart pines for Jonny. To think we said our good-byes last night and to know I’ll never see him again is too intolerable.

  “Simon is available to take you home when you are ready.” She once again smiles sweetly. Or was that just a smile of pity?

  “Thank you, Mary.” Closing the door, I undress in a daze. I shower in a daze. Everything is an intolerable daze. My life seems to be passing in slow motion. I am feeling devoid of all emotion. Part of me wants to stay here; to tell Jonny I have made a terrible mistake and that I’ve now chosen him. Oh, I wish it was that easy, but when push comes to shove I just can’t do it. I know I must return home to Shawn and the girls; to start moving on, but I’m finding it so hard to do so. Why in the hell did I ever think it was okay for Jonny to keep waiting around for me to make my mind up? More to the point why did he allow me to treat him that way? Because he loved you . . . God knows why, but he loved you, Jessica!

  The raw torment on his face from last night still taunts me. In the cold light of day, I know that loving him the way I do is just not fair to him. He deserves more and is worthy of so much more. I am not deserving or worthy enough to be the one to give him what he needs.

  It’s 10:21 a.m. and I want to leave. It is too painful being here. I keep seeing Jonny’s hazel eyes. I remember his loving hands all over my body, the taste of his sexy mouth. I remember how excited he was showing me my birthday present and seeing his face light up when I was jumping around like a little girl because I had my very own personal shopper. All these special moments are etched in my mind, but now, they are too excruciating to remember.

  I go downstairs into the kitchen; Mary is humming away to herself. I wonder whether I will ever be able to do a happy hum again?

  “Oh, Mrs. Neel, I’ll fetch you some breakfast, now.”

  “Thank you, Mary.” I’m too distraught for talking. I just want to curl up into a dying ball.

  She places a hot tea and thick, buttered toast in front of my despondent self. “There you are. Would you like anything else, Mrs. Neel?”

  “Please, call me Jessica. And yes, could you tell Simon I’ll be leaving in ten minutes?”

  “Will do.” Her kind face smiles sympathetically. There’s that bloody pity smile again!

  I sip the hot tea, and my swollen, numb lips welcome its sweetness. I try to swallow the toast but it seems reluctant to go down. I’m trying to eat merely to keep my strength up as I feel weak and broken; beyond repair.

  Simon walks into the kitchen. He looks taken aback by the pitiful sight of me. “Morning Jessica, shall I get your bags?”

  “I’ve put them by the stairs, Simon.”

  “Mr. Riley said you need to put these on when you leave.” He hands me the blonde wig and sunglasses. Even though I know in my heart it is to protect me from being identified, I can’t help but wonder whether the real reason he doesn’t want anyone to see me leaving his home, is because o
f his deep shame for me.

  “Okay.” I hold them in my shaky hands, placing them down on the kitchen worktop. Simon looks uncomfortable, unsure of what to say next.

  “I’ll take your things to the car, then.”

  “Thank you,” I say in a weak voice. Simon throws me the faintest of smiles before leaving the room.

  Mary breezes back into the kitchen. As lovely as she is, her happy-go-lucky personality is grating on my despairing soul. But, when she smiles my way with such sincerity, my pity party is momentarily put on hold. “You make sure you get that tea and toast inside of you, dear. You do look so very pale.” Mary rests her hand on mine, such a kind gesture under the circumstances.

  “Thank you, Mary.” I mumble.

  “It was nice to meet you, Jessica.” A feeble smile is all I can politely muster. I cannot face another good-bye.

  The journey home seems to take forever. I sit quietly with painful composure. Simon occasionally looks at me in his mirror. His eyes have the same sympathetic look as Mary’s had.

  As we get closer to my home, I look at all the familiar landscapes. I see the shops I frequently shop in and the bars and restaurants I regularly go to, but home now makes me feel more empty than ever before.

  I begin to feel sick with dread as Simon pulls onto my street. I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to see anyone. I am screaming inside, knowing that I have to go into my home and pretend my life is still absolutely great.

  “If you stop here, Simon, I’ll get out just before my house. I’ll also get my bags.”

  “Okay, Jessica.” He stops the car.

  Feeling disconnected, I get out and open the boot, slowly retrieving my bags. I lean down to Simon through the passenger side window and wave solemnly to him. I don’t really look at him. I cannot bear another sympathetic smile, so I turn and take the painful walk down my street, slowly with indescribable unease.

  I pray I am able to do this. To appear to be the same Jessica Neel as the one who left here, yesterday.