by C. C. Morian
Richard smiled. “There was. A whole bunch of them in fact.”
Melissa pulled her hand away and punched him on the shoulder, her tears falling freely now. “Bullshit.”
“I know,” he said, reaching for her again. “You see what I mean? You know when I’m not being truthful. The other women were different. But not better.”
“You’re making me feel worse,” she said.
“You shouldn’t. It’s just the way it is.” He hesitated. “Marcus. Do you still have feelings for him?”
“Not in the way you think,” said Melissa. “I wouldn’t have married him. I’m sure of that.” She fought to get control of herself, she was telling the truth, and she needed Richard to believe her.
“But maybe you would have still been with him? Marriage wasn’t the be all and the end all for you.”
“Except for kids,” she said. “I wanted to be married for that.”
“I know. But here we are, years into our marriage, and we haven’t talked about kids yet, at least not seriously.”
“We still have a lot of time.”
Now it was Richard who shook his head. “You know I think you’d make a great mother. And you know I love you. But I’m not going to start a family with you until we get this resolved.”
The stark reality of the truth of his words slammed into her. This was too big a cloud to be hanging over them. He was right, but that didn’t shield her from the pain. “I know,” she admitted, her voice choked with the unfairness of it all.
“Which brings us back to where we were. Marcus.”
“Why do you keep bringing him up?”
“I told you the other night. It’s how you talked about him. Or avoided talking about him.”
“I don’t want to start some kind of comparison. Especially one limited to certain aspects of our relationship. That’s just not right. If I wanted to marry Marcus I would have.”
“Did he ask you?”
“He didn’t. So it’s a moot point.”
“And you didn’t bring it up with him?”
“He wasn’t the marrying type. At least not then. Neither was I, as a matter of fact. We were in our twenties.”
“What about now? Do you wonder what would have happened if you had stayed with him?”
“It doesn’t matter. What does matter is I didn’t. I’m with you.”
“But you’re not happy. And you’ve basically admitted, without using the words, that he satisfied you in ways that I haven’t.”
Melissa looked away. “How can you be so cool about this, so clinical?”
Richard’s eyes flamed, a glimpse into his inner turmoil. “I’m not as cool about it as you think, inside. But I’m a guy, maybe that makes it easier. I see it as a problem to be fixed. It’s what I do at work, fix things. And I want to fix this. I don’t want to give up.”
A wave of despair flowed over her. “Maybe some things can’t be fixed. Maybe they just are.”
“I won’t accept that. At least until we try.”
“I’ve been trying.”
“I know. But maybe we need to be more creative.”
Where was Richard going with this? “How?”
Richard was completely focused on her now, squeezing her hand. “If I can’t give you what you want sexually, maybe you can get it somewhere else.”
Melissa blinked. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“But I can’t believe what you said. If I even understood you correctly.”
“You did. I know this is a difficult thing to talk about. Can you imagine how hard it is for me to suggest it? For you to be with another man?”
“You know I’d never cheat on you.”
“I do. But it wouldn’t be cheating if I knew.”
“You’re crazy! What’s making you say this?” Her eyes widened. “It’s that stupid fantasy of yours. Of me with another man. Fucking some stranger. This is for you, isn’t it?” She snatched her hand away.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Listen to me, please. I’ve admitted that the thought of you with someone else excites me. Does it matter how we think of it, or even if we have to decide who it is for? The fact is that you are missing something. Something you know you’ve had from other men. If you could just get that, then you’d be fulfilled, at least in that respect. And if it excites me in the process, wouldn’t that be good for both of us?”
“You mean you’d let me sleep with another man?” Melissa couldn’t get her head around it.
“It’s not a matter of letting you. You are not a possession. I’m in no position to decide what you do or don’t do.”
“You aren’t a possession either, but I wouldn’t let you sleep with another woman!” Just the thought of it, even with all their troubles, made Melissa shake. This was a thousand times worse than the time she had caught Marcus cheating on her.
“I’m not asking you to. But if the only way you can get the kind of sexual release and excitement that you need is to sleep with someone else, I’d accept that. Because if what is missing is eating at you, it could destroy us. It will destroy is. Maybe not all at once, but everything would just keep going downhill, and we’d both know it. And hate ourselves for letting it happen.”
Melissa sat up on the sofa, separating herself from him. “I can’t believe you are seriously suggesting this.”
“I wouldn’t have, but I’ve tried to think of everything else. Anything else.” Richard’s voice hardened, just a bit. “I’m open to suggestions. If you want to save our marriage, suggest something else.”
It was so far out of her range of possible solutions that Melissa could barely think straight. “We could see a therapist.”
Richard nodded. “We could. And I would. Knowing me, and knowing yourself, do you think that would work?”
Melissa didn’t have to spend time considering the idea. “No. It wouldn’t.” She laughed without humor. “And with my luck, we’d get a therapist who would suggest a threeway.”
“Then what do you propose? I know this is not something you haven’t been thinking about. You’ve had plenty of time to come up with a better idea.”
Melissa tried to think of something, any alternative. But if there was something that might possibly work, she would have thought of it by now. “You’re right. I haven’t. And I’m willing to try just about anything. I want to save what we have, I want to make it better. But Richard, I’m simply not going to sleep with a stranger. I just couldn’t do it.”
“You don’t have to.” said Richard. “Marcus. You could sleep with Marcus.”
Chapter 16
“What?” Melissa was incredulous. Of all the ways she had thought about this conversation, not in a million years could she have dreamed that they would end up here.
And she still hadn’t confessed what had happened between her and Vern. But that seemed almost insignificant now.
“Marcus,” Richard repeated, now sounding triumphant, as if he had just won a competition. “You wouldn’t be sleeping with a stranger at all.”
Melissa shook her head so hard it hurt. “Richard, I don’t know where to begin. This isn’t how couples fix their problems.”
“How do you know? And even if they don’t, maybe they should. We’re in a more than a rut, I know you think it. I feel it. It’s like someone whose heart has stopped beating, it needs a big shock to get it going.”
“This is a shock, that’s for sure.” Melissa reached for her wine, saw that she had downed both glasses, and started to get up for more, then changed her mind. This was not a conversation to have while tipsy. Who knew what she might say.
Richard looked at her expectantly. “Tell me what’s wrong with the idea.”
“God, Richard, this isn’t a business deal! It’s our marriage!”
“Which is why we’re talking about it. It’s why I want to talk about it, you owe me that. Please. Just tell me what’s wrong with my idea.”
For the hundredth time Melissa was seeing a striking ex
ample of the difference between how people handled a crises. She wanted to lash out, out of anger, hurt, fear. Guilt. Yet Richard wanted to talk.
Which is what people did in good marriages. Or so she had been told. Okay, she’d try.
“A lot of things. First, even if were to consider it—and I’m not saying I am—what do you expect me to do? Just call Marcus up and say, hey, my husband wants me to sleep with you?”
Richard wasn’t fazed in the least, he had obviously thought this through. “Why not? He’d probably get off on it. Hell, I’d probably get off on it if I got a call like that. How often do you think a guy gets a call out of the blue from a beautiful woman wanting to have sex?”
That probably happened to Marcus all the time, Melissa thought. And from women far prettier than me. And he probably was still getting calls like that.
Damn. She was already succumbing to Richard’s enticement. She was already thinking about Marcus, wondering about what he was like now. “He’s probably married.”
“You said he wasn’t the marrying type.”
“That was a long time ago.”
“Do you that’s something that would change about him?”
Melissa didn’t have to think very long. “No, I don’t. But it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t do it. I’m married. That’s the important thing.”
“We’ll get to that. Would it stop him? You being married?”
“Not for a second.”
“So that’s one problem solved. As for you, if I don’t mind, then why should you?”
“You don’t mind? You should mind! That’s part of the problem! The very thought of this should drive you mad!” Melissa was suddenly furious, her emotions swinging wildly, and even as she felt it happen she couldn’t control it.
“Now you aren’t making sense,” said Richard, his voice calm, which infuriated Melissa even more. “Remember that time, not long after we got married, when I asked you if you minded if I had dinner with my ex-girlfriend on that trip I took to New York?”
“So what?”
“What did you say?”
“I told you to go ahead, that you didn’t even have to ask. It was nice that you did, but you didn’t have to.”
“Why didn’t you get all worked up about it? Shouldn’t you have been jealous?”
“I trusted you.”
“I know. But you didn’t see me get all upset and mad because you weren’t jealous. I didn’t need to see some reaction from you to know you loved me.”
Melissa stared at him, deflating. “Don’t you get tired of being right all the time?”
“I don’t care about being right. You know that. I just want to fix this.”
“I still can’t believe you want me to be with Marcus.”
Richard reached for her hand again, and she let him take it in his lap. “Don’t misunderstand me,” he said, earnestly. “I don’t want you to end up with him. I want you with me. But we don’t know what might happen. You could sleep with him, and realize that it isn’t all you are thinking it would be, what it could keep being. Maybe what you shared was just something that existed at one point in time. Or this is all about an infatuation that you have to get out of your system. Or it is just something that you need every so often, to—recharge. To rekindle things with us. Maybe that would be a price—no, let’s call it a change, that we could make, that would be worth it. A change that would be good for us.” He hesitated. “And maybe—.” His voice broke for the first time.
“What?”
“Maybe, whether you are willing to admit it or not, you still are wondering, deep down inside, of whether you should still be with Marcus. This would help you make that decision, one way or another. And I’d rather lose you, knowing you’d be happy, than have it eating away at you, every day.”
Melissa was quiet for a long time, letting Richard’s words wash over her, trying to think it through rationally, trying to hold off the destructive emotion, but still use her feelings to help her deal with this, to help her decide what to say next, what to do. For surely this wasn’t solely a logical decision, it was both logic and emotion, all rolled into one.
“You’d do that for me? You’d let me sleep with another man, just so I’d be sure?”
“I would.”
Melissa believed him. Which made what she had to say so much harder. “I love you so much,” she said. “And I can’t believe what you would do for me. But I don’t deserve it. You see, I’ve done something terrible. Really terrible.”
Chapter 17
Now it was Richard’s turn to be surprised. “What? What did you do?”
Melissa stood up abruptly. “Give me a minute.” She ran to the bathroom, her legs weak. In the mirror she wondered who was looking back at her. Who was this woman, usually so strong, now teary eyed, usually so sure of herself, now at a loss of what to say to the man she loved. For no matter what had happened to them, what was happening, what would happen, she knew she loved him.
She let herself get lost in her examination of her face, putting off what she needed to do. Facing her face, but not her life. A few lines around the eyes, but not bad, considering. Her hair, still vibrant, a bit mussed from lying on the couch. Her lips. . . quivering, pulling her back to reality.
Melissa raked her fingers through her hair, not having much effect. She splashed cold water on her face, then haphazardly dried off, knowing her makeup was smeared, not caring.
One last glance in the mirror. The water had done nothing for her bloodshot eyes, her anguished look.
She didn’t deserve to look good anyway.
On the way back to the living room she grabbed the wine bottle. Richard was waiting for her expectantly. Melissa filled the glasses and handed one to him. “Maybe you’d better drink some of this.”
Richard put the wine to his lips and took a sip, his eyes never leaving hers.
Melissa kicked off her shoes and sat back down on the couch, pulling her feet up under her, wrapping her arms around her knees, still holding the wine. In some ways, what they had just talked about would make it easier for her to say what she had to say; Richard had opened up the whole can of worms about her sexual needs. But in other ways it was much harder, he had been truthful, he had been trying to find ways to save their marriage.
She had been lying, at least by omission. And what she had done with Vern wasn’t for them, it wasn’t for Richard, it had been for her.
Richard hadn’t moved. He was tense again. She could only wonder what he must be thinking.
Melissa started to speak, but nothing came out. She tried again, but couldn’t decide on the first word.
“Is it another man?” Richard asked, his whisper crashing against her, his tone hard to fathom.
She turned to him, he deserved that. “Yes.” She watched his eyes widen. His shoulders sagged, a panoply of emotions running through his body and face; pain, anger, acceptance. But no surprise.
He drew his shoulders up, as if ready for a blow. “Did you. . .”
“No. I didn’t sleep with him. But I kissed him. I mean, he kissed me. And I guess I let him.” Melissa watched the shock register; Richard hadn’t seemed surprised at first, but now that she had said the words, the reality of it hit him.
“When did this happen?” Richard’s words sounded like they came at a great expense.
Melissa hesitated. When she spoke her voice was stiff, hollow, like she was reading a news script about a tragedy. “Not long ago. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you. It’s what I was going to talk to you about tonight.”
“Do you want to be with this man?”
She shook her head. “No. It’s nothing like that. He’s just someone I saw, someone I thought was attractive. More than attractive, enticing. I—ran into him, and he must have sensed what I was thinking. He kissed me.” She should have reached for Richard now, she should be softening this blow, but for some reason she could not.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “It all happened so fast. I should h
ave done something to stop it. I did, finally. But not before he—”
Richard’s eyes narrowed. “It was that biker, wasn’t it? Vern.”
Melissa had sworn to herself she wasn’t going to tell him who it was. But Richard’s tone, so sure, told her that he knew. She couldn’t deny it now even if she wanted to, even if she thought it was the right thing to do. “Yes. But I don’t think it matters. It might have been anyone. This need that I have, this thing that is missing, it’s something I sensed he could give me. And he knew it. He—took me.”
“Did he hurt you?”
Melissa heard real anger in Richard’s voice. “No, nothing like that. It was in the middle of the street.”
“What? You kissed him in public? On the street?”
“It’s not what you think. Or—shit, I don’t know what you think. Maybe it’s worse. You know I saw him at the pool. And you certainly know I was attracted to him. That didn’t seem to bother you. I wanted it to. Bother you, I mean. But I see that it doesn’t. I can live with that, although I think a lot of women like to see a little jealousy in their husbands, even if it isn’t rational.”
“I didn’t know you had done something with him.”
“I hadn’t then. That was the first time I had laid eyes on him. You asked what it was about Marcus that was different? The sex was different, but that’s not all it was. He has this—scariness—about him, this sense of danger. Not that he’d hurt me, but that there was some kind of risk lurking all the time. That something might happen. Something dangerous. That’s the vibe I got from Vern.”
“What happened?”
“I was out for a run. He was on his motorcycle, and he saw me and stopped. We talked for a minute. He accused me of stalking him.”
“Were you?”
“No.” Melissa took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“I wasn’t stalking him specifically. But when I was out for my run, I came across his development—one of those college kids had mentioned it in passing. They implied he was the black sheep of the community. So I wasn’t looking for him, but when I saw that I was near where he lived I purposely turned into his street. I didn’t have any plan. It just happened.”