Confession of an Abandoned Wife - Box Set (Books 1-3)

by Hartstein, Michal

  "Really?" I was impressed. "Has she ever won anything?"

  "No. She made it through to the semi-final, but never won any titles."

  "Still, she’s one of about thirty, isn't she?"

  "I think there are maybe… twenty participants each year."

  "Even more amazing."

  I examined the other images and returned them to the envelope. The man had an almost beauty queen for a wife at home and had still strayed! I was shocked. Next to Guy's wife, I looked like some ugly troll. Why was he interested in me when he had such a gold mine at home?

  "Are you hungry?"

  "Not at all."

  "Great, so we’ll start with dessert."

  Guy dialed and a female voice answered.

  "The Love Nest, hello."

  "Shoshi?"

  "Yes."

  "Hi, how are you? It's Guy."

  "Guytzuk, how are you?"

  "Excellent."

  "Long time, no hear..."

  "Right." Guy grinned. "It's really not right."

  Shoshi laughed and Guy continued. "Shoshi, honey, tell me, do you have a spare room?"

  "Sure... for you, always. When are you coming?"

  "I'll be at your place in twenty minutes."

  "No problem, sugar. I'll prepare room number four for you."

  "Cool… Don’t forget to prepare the hot tub," he added before they hung up.

  I was a little shocked from the conversation at how easily and quickly Guy arranged himself a fuck room.

  We went up on Route 5, and I finally allowed myself to ask where we were going.

  "It’s a great place." He smiled with pleasure. "It’s in Hod Hasharon. Very clean, discreet, and tidy."

  "What is it? A hotel?" I tried to understand.

  "You’re funny." He laughed, and I tried to understand the joke. "No. Who goes to hotels these days?"

  "I don't know… me, for example"

  "Of course... I also go to hotels with my family, but for discreet encounters, it's better to use a discreet and romantic B&B over a filthy room in some small hotel."

  "There are B&Bs in Hod Hasharon?" I hadn't realized that Hod Hasharon had become such a tourist destination.

  "The Sharon area’s full of guest houses for discreet meetings." Guy couldn't keep from laughing… I was an attraction for him: innocent and ignorant.

  We arrived at the ‘B&B.’ A gravel path led us to a makeshift parking lot right next to the guest rooms. This was the first time I’d ever seen a parking lot surrounded by a large plastic sheet. I expressed my admiration for it to Guy, and he laughed again and explained that the side covers were to deter detectives from following couples. The shield made it more difficult to locate the vehicle.

  We got out of the car, and Guy dropped an envelope into the mailbox at the entrance to the room. I didn’t have to ask. I understood that it was the payment.

  Guy opened the door in front of me, and I dragged myself inside. I was shocked. The whole set up so far was embarrassing and completely unromantic: the sordid familiarity of the phone call to Shoshi, the screened parking lot, the envelope at the entrance and now the room, or rather, the ‘B&B.’ The room itself was very clean and comfortable. All the furniture looked new and was not significantly different from the standard furnishings in a room in a decent hotel.

  But there was something very sleazy about the room. Maybe it was the old-fashioned decor, maybe it was the black and white posters in cheap plastic frames of naked women that adorned the walls, maybe it was the DVD library of porn set close to the plasma screen TV or possibly it was the mirror decorating the ceiling above the bed.

  Maybe everything about it was just sleazy.

  "I'm a little sweaty." Guy began to take off his shirt. "Let's spend some time in the tub." He pointed toward the hot tub, which was filled as requested.

  When I drove north with Itay to a B&B, we never filled the hot tub. Itay always said it's corrupt to waste so much water in Israel.

  "Don't worry," Guy said, easing himself into the hot tub, "Shoshi’s very clean. You could eat from this hot tub."

  I took off my clothes and laid them neatly on one of the chairs. I didn't want to return to the office messy. While Guy was lying with closed eyes in the hot tub and I was folding and laying my clothes on the chair, it all struck me as not so sexy. I had imagined for two days how Guy would rip off my clothes with lust. I stepped into the hot tub, and Guy opened his eyes.

  "Oh, how I've missed your tits." He licked his lips with pleasure.

  "I thought you missed me."

  "Sure, sure," he said and pulled me into the tub.

  It was nice in the hot tub. Guy soaped me and stroked me. We didn't stop kissing and cuddling.

  Fifteen minutes later, Guy got out of the tub. His muscular body glistened. Water drops twinkled on him like thousands of diamonds. I let out a small sigh of admiration, and Guy asked if anything was wrong.

  "Nothing," I replied. "You have just an amazing body," I complimented him.

  Guy smiled; he didn't need me to tell him this. He was so aware of himself. He wiped himself, picked up the other towel and helped me out of the tub. He wiped me lightly and pushed me to the bed. My nude body was visible in the mirror on the ceiling. I felt like I was watching myself from above. Guy began to caress my legs; he kissed my ankles and thighs and slowly rose. I felt him start licking me. I watched myself lying naked with this amazing man's head diving between my legs… I was embarrassed.

  I pulled Guy up and made an unhappy face.

  "What happened?" he asked.

  "I don't want that," I explained.

  "You don't have to do it in return."

  "It's not that."

  "What then?"

  "I'm not comfortable with it," I confessed.

  "No problem. I thought you might enjoy it."

  "I can enjoy myself without it."

  Guy continued to kiss me and caress me from all directions. At one point he lay down behind me, grabbed my breasts, and began to rub against me from behind. It was nice for a few minutes, but I felt he was just too bold for a second meeting. Have we exhausted face-to-face sex, I thought. Was I so unattractive to him that he'd rather be behind me? I was still very insecure about my body.

  "I want to see your face," I whispered.

  "Why?" he said disappointedly. "This feels so good…"

  "I want to see you."

  "You can look in the mirror."

  "It's not the same thing," I said bitterly and Guy climbed on top of me and lay down in front of me.

  "You're so beautiful." I patted him gently.

  "You're amazing," he said hoarsely. He rolled aside and took the condom he had prepared from the dresser. This time, he put on the condom without my help and started to kiss me on the mouth.

  We kissed passionately for a few seconds, and then I felt him penetrating me.

  I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize myself. There I was, lying naked in an hourly-rental room in Hod Hasharon with a man I barely knew leaning over me and moaning eagerly while kissing my neck. I realized that the mirror was supposed to excite me, and, perhaps, in other circumstances it might have, but this reflection of reality disgusted me.

  Guy lifted his weight up onto his hands as he continued to move inside me. His movements became quicker, and it looked like his body was in the rhythm of pleasure. I decided to stop looking in the mirror. Maybe if I stopped looking at myself, I could concentrate more on Guy. His brow twitched with delight, and he closed his eyes. It bothered me. Why isn't he looking at me, I thought. Who was he fantasizing about?

  Itay also usually closed his eyes when we had sex, and it always annoyed me. I thought that was the only thing in common between these two men.

  I wanted it to be over and, after a few seconds, Guy came, moaning wildly. I loved that. Itay was always as quiet as a strict librarian in bed.

  Guy got up, pulled the condom off and went to wash himself in the shower.

  I stayed
and watched myself in the ceiling in amazement until I dozed off. "Sharonnie…" he said as he woke me up. "It’s getting late."

  "You want something to eat?"

  "Yes, that's why we should get going."

  I dressed quickly and we left. It was a quarter to two. This was a so-called ‘quickie.’

  A little later we were sitting at a fish restaurant in Herzeliya.

  Guy talked non-stop. I was still trying to digest our liaison so far.

  Guy told me that he knew the restaurant well and ordered for me from the recommended dishes. I didn't listen to what he said, and when the dish was placed in front of me, I found that it was shrimp.

  Although it had been years since I’d thought of myself as a religious person, I hadn't yet eaten shrimp.

  "I’ve never eaten shrimp," I confessed.

  "Really?" He looked at me in amazement. "It's a delicacy, especially here."

  "I wouldn’t know." I made a face. I was still daunted.

  "Too bad," Guy said with his mouth full. "It's great."

  I thought about how I’d just broken one of the Ten Commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery.’ If God would forgive me for that, he must also forgive me for eating shrimp. I put a little piece into my mouth.

  "Well?" Guy asked curiously. "Good?"

  I chewed slowly, and after I swallowed, I had to admit that it was, indeed, delicious.

  I remembered I hadn't eaten for several hours. Hungrily, I ate the dish and topped it off with crème brûlée.

  At quarter to four, I was back at the office. Everyone carried on as usual, but I felt awful. I’d fantasized about a sensual romance and instead I’d gotten a hasty, cheap meeting. Not only that, I was breaking the trust that my husband and my employer had given me. I felt bad.

  I sat in the office and was just disgusted with myself. I stared at the computer screen and tears began to fill my eyes. How could you do it, I asked my image reflected in the computer screen. A feeling of suffocation and nausea rose in my throat, and I ran to the restroom. I went into a stall, put down the toilet lid, sat down and burst into tears. As my crying grew louder, I felt more and more sick. At one point, the feeling of suffocation and nausea was so strong that I turned, lifted the lid of the toilet and threw up. I blew my nose and continued to cry. Suddenly, I heard a knock on the door.

  "Everything all right in there?" It was Ilana, the office secretary.

  I left the restroom, blowing my nose.

  "I don't feel so good."

  Ilana looked at me with wide eyes. “You look like hell.”

  I looked in the mirror. Indeed, I looked terrible. My hair was disheveled, my eyes were red with tears and my nose was running.

  I washed my face, fixed my hair and blew my nose again. I left the bathroom and I met Gad, one of the senior partners by the elevator. He looked at me in astonishment and said, “Sharon, you look awful.”

  "I know." I smiled a crooked smile. "I don't feel so good."

  "Go home. Be sensible. Whatever are you doing here sick?"

  "I'm going," I assured him and walked briskly to my office. I gathered my things and almost ran to my car.

  All the way to my parents' house, I cried hysterically and couldn't stop blowing my nose. I felt sorry for myself and was disgusted with myself at the same time.

  When I got to my parents’, Yarden jumped on me with joy and Shira waved to me from the sofa. She was watching some favorite TV show.

  "Yarden," I said as I pushed my little girl away from me, "Mommy’s not feeling well."

  My mother emerged from the kitchen.

  "I thought you weren’t coming for another hour and a half," she said. Then she looked at me in astonishment. "Sharonnie, what happened to you? You look like hell."

  "I know, Mom," I cried. "I feel horrible."

  "What happened?" she asked in genuine concern.

  "I don't know," I lied. "Maybe it was something I ate," I said. Maybe something was eating me.

  "Do you want me to make you something?"

  "No," I said as I ran to the bathroom.

  I threw up again and, this time, it eased the nausea a little.

  My mother was waiting for me outside the bathroom door. She looked anxious as I crept slowly into the living room and onto the sofa. Yarden and Shira came up to me and patted me gently. What lovely and sensitive girls I had.

  "Mom," Shira asked as she opened her blue eyes wide, "what’s the matter with you?"

  "I'm a little sick." I smiled at my two princesses and stroked them gently. Tears came to my eyes. How could you forget what was really important, I thought.

  My mother pulled the girls away. "Don't bother Mommy," she said with authority. "Mommy needs to rest."

  She arranged my old room for me, made me tea with lemon and sent my dad, when he came home, to fetch clothes for the girls for tomorrow and to feed our cat, Josephine. She, of course, couldn’t resist the opportunity to point out that I kept a potentially disease-ridden animal in the house and who knew if I wasn’t sick because of the cat. I'd given up explaining to her that hardly any diseases were transmitted from cats to humans.

  I woke up the next day at ten in the morning.

  The girls were at school, my father was at work and my mother was out at her drawing class. She’d left me a note and asked me to call when I wake up.

  "How are you?" she asked anxiously.

  "I'm fine."

  "How do you feel?"

  "Better."

  "You looked just awful yesterday."

  "I also felt that way."

  "Are you going to work?"

  "I don't think so."

  "That would be for the best. Rest. You work too hard."

  We hung up, and I felt bad again. Mom thought I was working hard while I was actually sleeping with my lover.

  I went into the kitchen and made myself toast and tea. I sat down in front of the TV in the living room and watched a stupid movie. I needed something to distract me from what I’d gone through yesterday. The film ended, and I continued to flip between the channels. I glimpsed a History Channel show about World War I. I remembered that I hadn't talked with my own soldier for almost two days.

  I picked up my bag; I remembered that I had turned my cell off before falling asleep. Maybe Itay had left me a message.

  I had a voice message. It was Guy, asking me to call him.

  I didn't want to talk to him at all.

  I dialed Itay.

  "Sharon, how are you?" Itay answered the phone cheerfully, and I felt tears filling my eyes.

  "I'm fine," I said, and I did my best not to cry.

  "Your mother called me yesterday and told me you came home from work really sick."

  "My mother’s going a little overboard."

  "So what was wrong?"

  "I just didn't feel so good."

  "Did you throw up?"

  "Yes." I knew he was fantasizing that I was pregnant so I added, "I ate something bad."

  "You sure?"

  "Yes, I'm sure. Don't start fantasizing. There’s no way I'm pregnant. I'm on the pill, and even if they didn't work, the last time we slept together was right after I finished menstruating, so there’s no way."

  "All right," he answered with mild disappointment.

  "Are you coming back tomorrow for the weekend?"

  "I'm coming back today."

  "What a surprise." I smiled to myself.

  "But tomorrow I’ll probably head out to work for a few hours," he added, immediately bringing me back to reality.

  "Itay, really? You haven't been home for two weeks… and I’m feeling bad. Can't you give it up for once?"

  "I wish I could, but there’s a real crisis at work."

  "And only you can save the situation?"

  "In this particular case - yes."

  "You know you’re not getting paid for it. You’re considered to be on reserve duty."

  "Sharon, enough! I know all that, but I have a responsibility."

 
"What about your family? Aren't we also your responsibility?"

  "Sharon, you know you’re number one for me and for that very reason, I don't want to lose our livelihood."

  How I hated him threatening our economic future. If he was so indispensable to the company, I couldn't believe a small amount of time spent with his family would put his job in jeopardy.

  Suddenly, I didn't feel so bad about the quickie with Guy.

  CHAPTER 11

  After the conversation with Itay, I called Guy in response to his message. I didn’t think I’d call him so soon. I didn’t think I’d call him at all, ever, but the conversation with Itay had irritated me.

  "Guy?"

  "Who’s this?" Guy didn’t recognize my voice.

  "Sharon," I replied angrily. "You left me a message."

  "Yes," he answered coldly. "What is it? Where are you calling from?"

  "I'm at my parents’.”

  "Has something happened?"

  "Yeah, I don’t feel good."

  "What’s up?"

  "I don’t know… I don’t think I should have eaten the shrimp."

  "I ate the shrimp," he reminded me, "and I feel great."

  "I threw up like crazy yesterday.”

  "Really?" He sounded surprised, but not too worried.

  "Yes, really..."

  Then there was a pause, and Guy almost whispered, "Sharon…"

  "What?"

  "Listen, I told you I’m a straightforward man."

  "True."

  "Then I must tell you… I don’t think it’s going to work out between us."

  I was shocked. I didn’t expect that. Although I saw no reason to continue a relationship that didn’t make me feel good, I thought Guy found me entertaining.

  I remained silent.

  "Are you there?" Guy woke me up from my thoughts.

  "Yes."

  "Don’t be mad, honey," he said. "You’re charming and sexy, but you know I'm looking for exciting sex."

  "I didn’t excite you?" I couldn’t believe I’d said that, but I guess I was shocked by his words.

  "The truth is, at first, it really enticed me to be with someone as inexperienced as you."

  "Inexperienced?" I was shocked. I had been sexually active for thirteen years.

  "A woman who’s only been with one man isn’t exactly experienced," Guy explained. "I thought it would be interesting, but the truth is – you’re very restrained, and I have difficulty with that."