The Wife

by S.P. Cervantes

  The past week, I’ve been working frantically trying to finish up the design options for my meeting with Jamie, or C.J.’s restaurants and running back and forth between Liam and Colin’s flag football games. I’m passed out in bed right after I tuck the boys in for bed, and it’s only in the middle of the night, when I hear him in the kitchen rummaging for his late-night snack, that I feel the ping of sadness that his warm body won’t be coming up to keep me warm.

  “All of your ties are up here, where they’ve always been,” I call down to him as I walk over to the drawer and grab his favorite tie from the neatly organized drawer.

  I smile to myself when I twirl his favorite tie in my hand. He calls it his lucky tie that always helps him close a deal. I rub it across my cheek as I remember the day I gave this to him as part of a congratulatory gift for getting his first job out of college. My cheeks heat up, remembering how I waited for him to come home that day, wearing nothing but this tie loosely hanging around my neck. The memory makes me wish we still loved each other that hard. Over the years, we’ve kept an active sex life, but it isn’t hot and passionate like before. It’s different—it’s predictable and obligatory. Ugh, that sounds so pathetic. I need to spice things up for us on the trip this weekend.

  I push the memory away and toss the tie on my bed, knowing he’ll come for it. If I don’t get moving, I’ll never get everything done I need to this afternoon. I have to stop getting lost in my thoughts; it’s all I seem to do anymore. I slip on my shoes so I can head out to the gym before my first meeting tonight with Frank and Tommy later today. I went back and forth on whether or not to take this job, but after Mike’s persistence, I couldn’t say no. It’s an opportunity of a lifetime for me, even if it is for Jamie—or is it C.J.? I’ll have to figure out what I’m supposed to call him. I wonder for a moment whether anyone calls him Jamie anymore.

  I still haven’t seen or spoken to Jamie since the night of the party, and I’m honestly not sure how I feel about that.

  Did I expect him to call me?

  Did I expect him to come and see me?

  Deep down, I knew he wouldn’t call me. I knew he wouldn’t come see me. He’s made no effort to contact me since he broke my heart all those years ago, so why would I expect him to do so after spotting me at a random party? Just the look on his face that night told me so much. The surprise and guilt on his face were undeniable. I once thought Jamie was the most brave and loyal person to ever walk the earth. He proved me wrong back then, and I shouldn’t expect anything more than disappointment from him now. Just thinking of him conjures a feeling of betrayal that pricks my heart, reminding me that there’s still a crack in the hole he left. When I met Mike, he swept me off my feet, and slowly replaced the pain that soaked my heart when Jamie broke every promise he ever made me.

  The day after the party, I told Mike right away that C.J. Fox was actually Jamie McCullen. I hadn’t wanted to keep secrets like I thought he kept from me. Although Mike knows what Jamie meant to me in my past, and more importantly, what he did to me, he wasn’t fazed one bit about the possibility of me working on the design of his restaurants. He only hoped that our past relationship would mean more opportunities to help him expand to other locations. Rather than feeling grateful that my husband was so trusting of me and my integrity, I have to admit to feeling a little hurt that he wasn’t the least bit jealous or threatened by Jamie. Didn’t he think that someone like Jamie could still have feelings for someone like me? No, to Mike, I was merely “the wife.”

  Just then, Mike knocks on the door and enters. He looks me up and down like he used to instead of looking right through me as he has done so often lately.

  “Damn, woman, I don’t think I can let you out of the house looking like this.” He comes right for me, pulls me up against his muscular frame and kisses the side of my neck, making me swoon with hope. “I’ll be home late again tonight, but text me after your meeting. I want to hear how it goes. I’m sure you’ll knock them off their socks like you always do.”

  I try not to worry when Mike is overly affectionate before his late nights out. Before therapy, I would always assume he’s trying to hide his infidelity, but now, I have to make the decision to trust him if we are going to make this work. I can’t let my avalanche of insecure emotions continue to build a wall of doubt between us.

  I smile up at him and kiss him softly on his lips, trying to hide my worry. “It may be late. The kids are staying at Rita’s tonight and I’m going out with Lee for a few drinks afterwards.”

  Lee has always lived in California, but we met in our junior year at NYU and have been best friends ever since. Rita went to high school with Lee and has become one of my closest friends since moving to California. Rita always asks to have the boys over to play with her son, who’s always looking for a playdate. I knew Mike would be out late, so when she asked to keep the boys over night, I accepted Lee’s invitation out for a girl’s night. I thought I’d probably need a drink with my best friend after being around Jamie again, so I decided to take Rita up on her offer and let the kids have some fun with Rita’s son, although I wish she’d be able to join us too. The three of us were like the three amigos, and they were the only two people I trusted with my feelings about Mike.

  He pulls away and kisses my forehead before he grabs his tie off the bed, walking toward the door. “That’s a great idea. Tell Rita to remind Pete our tee time is eight tomorrow morning. I had to move it up because C.J. needed to push our meeting to tomorrow.”

  I try not to let Jamie’s new name make me cringe. It seems fitting he’s changed his name because I would have never thought the Jamie I knew would have said and done the things he did to me. The Jamie I once knew would have never walked away without looking back. Not after what we shared together. Not after I sacrificed everything for him. Maybe C.J. would. It sounded like the name of a deceitful narcissist.

  I walk through the doors of my gym, looking for Lee and Rita, who always come to the Tuesday morning class with me. After I had my youngest son Liam, I got back into exercising, and now Rita and Lee have gotten me hooked on circuit training workouts that kick my butt. It is one hour a day that I don’t think about my crumbling marriage, and I’ve become addicted.

  Both woman are stretching in front of their treadmill before class begins, looking more like twenty-somethings than thirty-somethings. All of us are moms, all of us are in good shape, yet I seem to be the only one who doesn’t dare to wear slinky exercise tops and running shorts to the gym. “Put some clothes on,” I say playfully, wishing I had their confidence, and hop on my treadmill ready to get warmed up rather than stretch.

  “Shut it, Alexa. It’s a thousand degrees outside today.” Lee hops up on the treadmill next to me. “So I hear you’re making Rita babysit your kids tonight rather than let her get drinks with us.” She winks good-humoredly, always loving to rile me up.

  “I did…” I begin defensively.

  “Come on, Lee. You’re going to give Alexa a heart attack from guilt. I offered to watch the boys. I miss them since they’re both in a different school than Hunter now. Girlfriend needs some time out having fun, instead of staying home with the boys every night in the giant house while Mike is out doing who knows what.”

  “He’s working, Rita, you know that,” I say once again, defensively.

  They both look past me at each other and before I can call them out, Lee stops her treadmill and gives me her motherly stare. “We love you, Alexa. We are so proud of you for trying to make things work. But, girlfriend, we are having a serious heart-to-heart tonight.”

  I can’t help but roll my eyes and sigh. Luckily, just then Ashlee, our instructor, booms over her microphone, “Okay, everyone, it’s time to get up to base pace runners.”

  “Can’t wait,” I say, exasperated that my two best friends can’t support my determination to trust Mike and try to make our marriage work.

  As I try to keep pace, following Ashlee’s instructions during my run, I keep w
ondering whether Lee and Rita’s plan all along was to get me alone so they can try to convince me to leave Mike again. Christ, Lee has known Mike as long as she’s known me, and Rita’s husband is one of Mike’s best friends; you’d think they’d want us to stay together too. No infidelity has ever actually been proved, and it’s times like these that I regret telling them all of my worries. For all we know, Mike could have been faithful this whole time, and has never done anything wrong. And even if he has made a mistake in the past, if he still wants to make our marriage work and be with the family we made together, then I’ll do everything I can to try to make it work too. I’m no quitter.

  After only a few minutes into my run, I begin to breathe heavy and notice my heart rate has sky-rocketed. I’m mad at myself for letting my worries overtake me in the one place that I can usually find solace. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to steady my heart rate and let the music fill my thoughts, pushing away all the negativity, when suddenly my foot catches on the rubber of the treadmill and the unthinkable happens.

  Slam!

  Oh God.

  Slam! Bam!

  Oh no.

  A slow, screeching slide echoes through the room.

  Thump!

  Here I am, lying on the floor behind my treadmill, in pseudo plank position as Rita and Lee switch off between frantically stopping my treadmill and laughing their asses off at my embarrassment. I close my eyes, try to ignore the pain in my ankle, and pop up to my feet, praying that everyone else is too focused on their workout to notice my treadmill fail.

  “Jesus, Lex. Are you alright?”

  That accent.

  His hands are on my elbow, and I feel it everywhere.

  Let. Me. Die.

  Why is he here?

  Ashlee is at my side now too. “Alexa, are you okay?”

  I look back at her, still trying to pretend Jamie isn’t at my side and didn’t just witness me tumble to the ground like an uncoordinated fool. “I’m fine. I just tripped on my shoelace.”

  Jamie and Ashlee both look at my perfectly tied shoes in confusion. I smile, shrug, and hop back on my treadmill without another explanation. Jamie gives me a knowing side smile that was once so familiar, and it makes my insides twist with confusion. It would have been bad enough to be embarrassed in front of people I work out with every day, but Jamie being here is like a cruel joke.

  I begin to run again and quickly pick back up my pace, not wanting to show the pain in my body. I make the mistake of looking into the mirror in front of me to see Rita and Lee with curious expressions and mischievous smirks in reaction to Jamie’s concern. “Not now.” I know they are wondering about Jamie as much as I am.

  I know they have no idea the mysterious man running at the end of the aisle is my Jamie. How could they? I’ve never showed them any pictures of him. I destroyed all but one when he broke my heart, and I never brought that picture to California. It’s safe and sound, hidden away in a shoebox at my dad’s house in New Jersey, where all of my memories of him are locked away.

  I’m careful not to look in Jamie’s direction as the class continues, but can feel his gaze on me. I’ve always been able to tell when he’s watching me: it feels as if the room is alive with electricity. I hate that the connection we had when we first met is still there. With everything that’s going on with my marriage, the last thing I need in my life is another man who makes me feel as if I’m not good enough. The feelings I have at being in the room with him again are beginning to make me seriously reconsider accepting the job with his company. This evening, I’ll have to see who I’ll be working on the design process with before I make my final decision.

  I go through the rest of the workout as usual, but when it’s over, I beeline it for the door without a word to Rita or Lee. I can text them when I’m safely in my car and as far away from Jamie as possible. I’ll be damned if my first conversation with Jamie after all these years is when I’m a sweaty hot mess, with bleeding burns on my knees and elbows from eating it on the treadmill. I quickly put my phone to my ear, although no one is on the other end and begin a pretend conversation as I walk as fast as I can to my car.

  “Lex!” Jamie’s voice calls out from behind me.

  I hate that he’s calling me Lex. The familiarity of it scratches at my heart. I don’t turn to answer him and continue with my fake conversation. I’ll see him next week if he decides to move forward with the design I have in mind for the restaurants—that is, if I actually decide to take it after my meeting tonight. All I want to do right now is go home and pretend this morning didn’t happen.

  I hop in my car and pull away. I have a momentary sense of relief until I glance in my rearview mirror to see Lee and Rita talking to Jamie as he watches my car pull away. “Shit,” I say under my breath. By the time I get to dinner with Lee tonight, she’ll know exactly who Jamie is and why I was so flustered in class.

  The entire car ride home, I try to focus my thoughts on the weekend I have planned with Mike and the boys. Our therapist suggested a trip together as a way to see whether we can reignite our love for each other by taking ourselves out of the grind of our busy lives. I was surprised by how upset Dr. Murphy got when we said we were taking the boys with us on the weekend away, but it has been months since we’ve all spent any extended amount of time together. When Mike suggested we take them with us, I agreed excitedly, knowing that his love for our boys can only help mend his love for me and our relationship. I know she thinks that we need alone time to work on us, but it’s not just about me and Mike: it’s about the boys, too—it’s about our family.

  Mike and I decided to take the boys to San Diego to go swimming and play a few rounds of golf before summer kicks into full swing and it’s too hot to golf with the kids. There’ll be plenty of opportunity for Mike and I to have our alone time to work on the two of us with all the activities at the resort there are to offer the boys in the evenings. Colin is about to start fourth grade, and I already feel him pulling away from us, ready to stretch his wings and gain more independence. A vacation like this is just what we all need.

  Sometimes I wonder whether they sense the divide between their father and me, and that’s why they are pulling away from us more, but then I stop myself and remember that they’re just normal children, with wacky rollercoaster emotions. As much as I want them to grow up and find themselves, the mommy in me wants to keep my sweet boys all to myself to love on forever.

  “Sugar” by Maroon 5 comes on the radio when I drive through the gate of our community, bringing me back to reality. I sing along as I drive down the wooded street that leads to my home. The unfamiliar feeling of happiness bubbles inside with the thoughts of getting back to the way our life should be this weekend. I continue to sing along to the addictive tune, hitting all the high notes so horribly that it makes me laugh. I feel lighter already at the thoughts of hope I’m allowing in rather than the despair I’ve felt all day. I can only imagine how happy I’ll feel after our weekend together. I know for most people, often the experience doesn’t always meet the expectations, but one thing I can say about Mike is that he always exceeds my expectations when it comes to planning special time together. Maybe it’s because we rarely have time to be together anymore, or maybe it’s because it’s how he shows me he loves me, but at this point in our relationship, it’s the one situation he hasn’t tainted for us.

  Yet.

  Just when I pull into the long, stone driveway that leads to the garage at the back of our two-story New England style home, I see one of Mike’s cars parked in my spot. I wasn’t expecting him to be home this early, but begin to think of the best way to make the most out of this surprise like I would have before we had the boys. A shower together could be just the thing to show him I’m taking the final step to trusting him and giving myself to him again.

  My body heats up at the anticipation of feeling his strong hands across my naked body again. I realize now how much I miss the adoring way he looks at me when we make love.
I sneak up the back steps that lead to our bedroom door, hoping I’ll be able to undress before luring him to our bathroom. I open the back door slowly at first, hoping to hide my arrival. I close my eyes as the creaking door echoes through the house, and laugh a little to myself. I’m more like a teenager sneaking in past curfew than a wife trying to give her husband a sexy surprise. I shut the door behind me, still giggling to myself, and listen to see whether I can tell where he is in the house.

  There seems to be a television on in the other room, so I quickly sneak up the back stairway, two steps at a time, hoping to at least get to our room before he realizes I’m home. Once I make it up the steps, I tiptoe into our room, still feeling excited with the anticipation of being with Mike again, and undress as quickly as I can. I smile when I see his lucky tie laid out on our bed. He’s been in our room. I wonder how often he has come up here the past few weeks, wishing we were together again too. I wonder whether he misses being with me as much as I do him. I slip the tie around my neck, just like I had when I gave it to him the first time. I decide to brush out my hair a little before I call downstairs for him; I know he loves my hair down. I make my way toward our bathroom when I hear him talking quietly on the other side of the bathroom door.

  Another business call.

  I remind myself of how we used to be, and decide to surprise him while he’s on the phone. Maybe he’ll choose me over work for once. I imagine his expression as he sees me wearing nothing but his tie and hope to see that mischievous smile that used to drive me wild. I slowly open the bathroom door and see his stressed reflection in the mirror, but he hasn’t noticed me yet. I flush with excitement, hoping to ease his tension with what I have planned for us.

  Just as quickly as my excitement built inside me, it’s deflated like a popped balloon from what Mike says next.

  “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me? Stop texting me. We’re done. I don’t have it.” His voice is hushed and harsh. “Are you crazy? I have a wife. I have a family. You can’t expect that from me!”