by Cosette Hale
“Harvey, I—” I stopped because I didn’t know what to say. What did I want to tell him? That I didn’t want him to leave either? Because I definitely didn’t, but to what end? Were we going to carry on an affair here in my parents’ house until it burned out? Impossible.
I wasn’t going back to my house. Not yet. And what would we do there anyways? Date? We were the cheated-on spouses having a little revenge sex. That’s all. Right? So what could I tell him?
“Audrey, let’s go somewhere later,” he said.
“Where? Everything is closed,” I said.
“Let’s go to the park. I’m going to clean myself up as best as I can, and we’ll go.”
“What do we tell our folks?” I asked right before he kissed me again. My mind went blank.
“Whatever. Tell them we’re visiting a mutual friend.”
“OK,” I said, melting as his hands grazed the small of my back. He let go then.
“OK,” he said and winked at me before he walked away. I leaned over the kitchen counter and put my head down on the cool granite. What the hell was I doing?
Like he’d suggested, we drove to a large park about 15 minutes from my parents’ house. I brought a blanket and sandwiches my mom had made and kept cool in the freezer. Unfortunately, when we approached the park, the gate was up.
“It’s closed,” I said, disappointed. I was looking forward to a picnic. He parked the car on a strip of grass right next to the fence. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going in.” He got out of the car.
“But it’s closed,” I said, also stepping out.
“It’s a small fence. Come on.” Harvey grabbed the blanket and bag of food from the back. He hopped over the fence with ease and helped me down when I made it over the other side.
“What if we get in trouble?” There I went, always worrying about something or other. Why couldn’t I be the free-spirit? The spontaneous one?
“I think the cops have other things to worry about than people sneaking into a park right now,” he said, holding my hand.
We followed a trail to a forested area that winded into a raised wooden boardwalk that put us up amongst the trees. We walked along that for a while, until Harvey settled on a spot, and we lay the thick blanket out.
“This is nice,” I said. “It’s very pretty. Don’t think I ever really appreciated how pretty it is until right now.”
“Me either.” He gave me one of his intense gazes.
“Harvey, what are we doing?” I asked, at last voicing my inner turmoil.
“We’re having a picnic.” He took the sandwiches and chips out of the bag, avoiding my eyes now.
“You know what I mean.”
“Right, that,” he cleared his throat. “Well, I haven’t felt this good in such a long time. Just being next to you is like a breath of fresh air.”
“That’s sweet,” I said. It’s how I felt, too.
“It’s the truth.” He proceeded to eat half the sandwich in one bite. Good thing I brought an extra one for him. I ate too, and we continued our picnic in silence. Still, I had no answers. When we were finished Harvey stood up and reached his hand out to help me stand. He walked us over to the tree canopy, a verandah keeping us from falling to the ground. His arms encircled me from behind as I faced out into the woods. I closed my eyes and breathed in the fresh pine scent, forgetting all about soon-to-be-exes and hurricanes. He kissed my head, and I turned around to look at him.
Whatever we were doing, it did feel good, like he’d said. He leaned into me and we were kissing again. We kissed so well, it was becoming my favorite thing to do. Soon we were on the blanket, getting much more heated, his hands touching me everywhere over my clothes. He played with the bottom of my shorts and spread my legs until his fingers found my panties. Within seconds, he pushed those aside, and he plunged a finger into me, and then two. I threw my head back in ecstasy, trying not to be so loud as the night before, but I couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped my lips.
He kissed my neck and with his other hand and pulled down my shirt and bra to expose my breast, which he sucked on while his fingers continued to drive me to oblivion. I was holding on to his head, running my fingers through his hair and down his neck until he came up for another kiss. I pushed him off and took off his shirt. He pulled mine over my head, and we finished undressing. I had barely slipped off my underwear when he straddled me on top of him. He leaned back on one arm, and with the other, he positioned himself and pulled me onto him. I shut my eyes as he buried himself deep inside.
My fingers dug into his back while I adjusted to the sensation that tore through me. I rocked back and forth on top of him, guiding us to a state of nothingness where only the sense of touch existed. We were breathless and out of our minds from the impending orgasms, which spread through me like wildfire. I couldn’t hold the sound in this time, and I cried out in ecstasy. He laid back, his eyes closed, and I fell on top of him, kissing his face and neck.
“You’re so incredible,” he said, catching his breath.
“You’re only saying that because I gave you revenge sex,” I said, letting the truth slip out. I hadn’t intended to be so blunt, but there you had it.
“Revenge sex?” he said, sitting up. “Is this revenge sex to you?”
I sat up too, tensing up, and pulled my bra and shirt on. “I mean, revenge sex, or rebound sex, or sex to get everything off our minds, whatever you want to call it. Are you upset?” I asked, seeing his face change. He almost looked angry. He stood up and put his shorts on.
“Harvey? This is why I asked what we were doing. I wanted to know what you thought we were doing,” I said, as I put on my sandals. He was already packing up our trash.
“Audrey, if this is just revenge sex, then I thank you for it, I guess. But, no, that’s not what this is for me,” he started walking back towards the car.
“Harvey! Don’t walk away,” I said. He stopped and turned around. I continued, “I like you a lot, obviously. I like doing that with you. But what else can this be? We’re not even divorced yet. I recently had a miscarriage with my husband who I was— and maybe still am— in love with. This can’t be anything else but revenge sex.”
“I get it,” he said with a sigh. He didn’t sound angry anymore, but I read the disappointment in his face.
“You’re angry with me?” I asked. I couldn’t stand it if he remained upset with me.
He walked back over to me, and kissed me, but it was a quick peck, unlike any other kiss he’d given me. “No,” he said, and we walked back to the car, this time not holding hands. The drive back was quiet, and I was sad that things had changed between us. What did he want from me? I wasn’t ready to be anyone’s girlfriend.
We got to my mom’s house, and there was a car in front. It wasn’t my Aunt Lucy’s beat up minivan, and a neighbor wouldn’t drive over when they’d simply walk. I approached the front door with a hint of anxiety. When we walked inside I stopped short, seeing that my father was coming from the kitchen, and behind him, my husband.
“What are you doing here, Greg?” I spit out, an unknown rage building inside me. How dare he invade my only place of sanctuary?
“I wanted to make sure you were alright,” he said, keeping his distance. He looked behind me at Harvey, his face darkening.
“I texted you telling you I was fine,” I said. I looked past him at my dad, “Why did you let him in here?”
“He says you two haven’t had a chance to talk, and I think every marriage, even a broken one, deserves a conversation, Audrey. Don’t you?” he said. My dad, always quiet, picked now to speak up.
I looked back at Harvey, who was visibly tense, and I mouthed, “I’m sorry.” I don’t think that made any difference because he stalked back out the front door to god-knows-where. Exasperated, I walked to the backyard, hoping Greg had the sense to follow me.
He closed the door behind us, and I sat on one of the plastic chairs, waiting for him to speak. I would
stay quiet and listen to every single word he had to say, once and for all, so that I’d never have to hear him again. Since I didn’t start the conversation, he finally did.
“Audrey, I’m glad you and your family are alright,” he said. When I said nothing, he continued, “OK, I guess I’ll do the talking. I’ve already told you I’m sorry, which I am, but I also came to tell you that people make mistakes, that no one is perfect, that I’ve made the biggest mistake of my life, and I will regret it for the rest of my life. I’ll make it up to you each and every day by loving you and making you my queen, which you deserve to be. I’ve never been so wretchedly depressed than these days without you. Baby, it’s as if I’ve lost an arm or a leg. I don’t know how many promises I need to make but I’ll make them all if you will give me a second chance.” He stopped, but I said nothing, in shock that he thought I could even consider going back to him.
“Everyone deserves a second chance, don’t you think? We’ll make it work. I’ll make it work. I’ll go to therapy, and we’ll do couples counseling. We’ll move away, and I’ll get another job. We can be happy again, I know we can.” I let him ramble on, saying all the things I might have eaten up and agreed to if I hadn’t been the one to catch him. Maybe if he had admitted his indiscretion himself before being caught. Had I not witnessed him and Natalie’s conversation I would not have found out, possibly ever.
“Do you have anything else to say?” I asked.
“Just that you are the love of my life, my soul mate, my everything,” he said, getting on his knees in front of me.
“Sit back down, please,” I said, and he did, leaning forward towards me. He looked like he was having a tough time dealing with our separation. He was thinner, his eyes sunken in as if he was sick.
“Greg, I believe in second chances, and so I can forgive you. But I cannot be your wife any longer because I don’t have it in me to continue to love you the same way. Not the way you’ve described. I no longer see you as the love of my life or my soul mate. I don’t feel like my arm or leg has been cut off. Maybe it was your cheating that caused me to turn those feelings off, or maybe they were hiding and only came to the surface with your actions. I don’t know. But I do know that my future happiness is not with you,” I said. I recognized the truth in every one of my words and experienced such a lightness that I wanted to run and tell Harvey about it.
“Is it with Harvey?” he asked, point blank. His nostrils flared.
“Why do you ask me that?” My heart hammered in my chest.
“Is it with Harvey?” he repeated. I did not understand how he could suspect a thing, but it didn’t matter. I didn’t have to answer to him anymore.
“Whatever I do now, Greg, is none of your business. I appreciate that you were worried about my family and me. As you can see, we are well and don’t need any help. I’ve heard you out, and I’ve told you why I no longer want us to be married. It’s time you were on your way.” I stood up and walked towards the side of the house to lead him to the driveway. He followed me, his hands in his pockets, his head down. I hoped he had finally accepted my decision. When we reached the front, I noticed that Harvey was leaning on his rental car. He saw us come out.
“Sorry, I’ll get out of your way,” he said, making toward the house. But Greg stopped him, a hand on Harvey’s chest.
“Where were you guys coming from just now?” Greg asked.
“Calm down, dude,” Harvey said, pushing Greg’s arms away.
“You calm down, dude. I asked you a question,” Greg said, now pushing Harvey, who hardly budged.
“Greg!” I yelled. Harvey moved forward and put his arm on Greg’s shoulder.
“Let’s let bygones be bygones, eh?” Harvey said, a smirk on his face.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Greg said pushing his arm away and getting in Harvey’s face.
“It means I just fucked your wife better than you ever could, you asshole,” Harvey said, disdain in every word. My eyes widened, and I covered my mouth in horror. Greg looked at me with a pained look and then pulled his arm back and swung. I was too slow to stop it, and his fist punched Harvey’s jaw, throwing him backward onto his car. Greg swung his hand around, undoubtedly in pain, and I yelled for them to stop. Harvey pushed himself off the car and ran at Greg, both of them taking a hard fall to the ground. I couldn’t tell who was hitting whom anymore as both of them wrestled, cursing at each other, not listening to my wild pleas for them to stop.
By this point both of my parents, Mrs. Garrett, and several neighbors were outside. My father and Nick, our neighbor, stepped in and pulled them apart. I was trying to hold back the tears, but I yelled at Greg to leave. He had blood under one eye, but I didn’t care. He could take care of it himself along the way. I went inside, absolutely humiliated, without even looking at Harvey. How could he have provoked Greg that way? If I had any doubts about it having been revenge sex, I didn’t anymore. He had timed it perfectly, somehow, to throw it in his wife’s lover’s face that he had slept with his own wife. I was so angry that I began to pace my room.
Without knocking, Harvey barged into my room. “Audrey, I’m sorry,” he said.
“You men are all the same. Doing something stupid first and then coming to beg for forgiveness. Well, I’m done with it, and I’m done with you. You said you had to go back to the restaurant, right? So go. I don’t need any more of this,” I yelled. He looked at me, his face already turning black and blue in two spots. He ran his hands through his messed up hair and sighed. Then he turned and left. I didn’t see him again before he left town.
Explaining what had happened was a little difficult. My parents and Mrs. Garrett wanted to know what had precipitated the actual fight, and Harvey left right away without giving them a reason for the fight. At dinner that night, as we sat outside around the barbecue, I had to lie and say that Harvey was upset about his wife’s betrayal with Greg and that it had all culminated into an argument and then a fist fight. They seemed to buy that. I felt bad lying, but there was no way on Earth I’d tell my parents the real reason for the fight.
The next few days were spent finishing cleaning up around the yard, with Mrs. Garrett pitching in. A roofer gave us an estimate, but told us it would be at least two weeks to start because of all the other jobs he has lined up. We then helped Mrs. Garrett with her insurance company, which had unfortunately turned into a real hassle. I never spoke to Harvey, but I caught my dad talking to him on the phone several times, discussing what the insurance company had said this or that time.
Mrs. Garrett would stay with my parents for just a few more days and then she would move to her friend’s house. She didn’t want to impose on one family’s generosity for a long period of time. My mom tried to convince her otherwise, but she didn’t budge. I finally had to get back to work and arranged for a flight back on that Wednesday.
While I wasn’t sure what my long-term plans would be, I still had this job where they were counting on me. Plus, all of my things were at my house, and I had to get them sometime. The decision to be made now was whether I would stay in town, come live with my parents (which we already know I did not want to do), or move somewhere else entirely.
The first thing I did after getting an Uber to my house was to move all the things I would need to the guest bedroom across the hall. I didn’t want to sleep in my own bed because, honestly, I didn’t want to be around anything having to do with Greg. Being in the house itself was bad enough, but it was a necessary evil for now. I started doing research (now that I finally had power to use a computer) and bookmarked several apartments for sale. I also searched for jobs in other cities, seeing if something caught my interest. An associates degree from college didn’t leave you open for many higher paying positions, I noticed. I researched universities as well, trying to come up with something I could study that would give me a good income. Wishing I’d done this years ago, I looked up student loans.
When Greg got home that evening, a fading bruise on his left che
ek, he was surprised to see me.
“I’m here until I find another place,” I said, as I finished cooking dinner. “You can have some of this,” I said, pointing at the salmon.
“Thanks,” he said, putting his stuff down and sitting at the counter. “Where are you going to move?”
“I’m looking at apartments nearby. I’ve also looked at going back to school, so my options are open,” I said. He gave me a sad smile.
“You should do that party planning thing,” he said. Every time I hosted a dinner party at our house, the guests gushed over my detailed planning, and Greg would proudly tell them I did it all myself. He had told me a few times to go into that, but I never took it seriously. Now I wondered if I should.
“Hmm,” I said. “That’s something to look into. Thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome.”
We continued the civil act for the rest of the night, sitting down and watching something together on TV. Then I went to my new bedroom and prepared my clothes for work the next day.
Tammy was insatiable. I didn’t leave any detail out, and our lunch break was over, but she still kept asking me questions.
“Have you talked to Harvey since? I mean, you’re back in the same town now, so what are you going to do?” she asked eagerly.
“I’m not going to do anything. We were there to give each other comfort and blow off steam, and we fulfilled that purpose. Things are too messy for us to be friends, and it’s best this way,” I said. Tammy gave me a pouty face and then a hug.
“I’m so sorry you’ve had such a horrible month. What can I do for you? Can I take you out?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.
“Yes, I think that would help,” I said, getting a little excited.
“Great! Friday night after we get out let’s do happy hour and then go out Saturday night?” she suggested.
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, and we hurried off to go answer phones.