by Sean Geist
While I'd back her decision, what I didn't say was that it would be as a close friend, not as her husband. It wouldn't work out. I could deal with the long distance romance, but not if she was working so close with Scott, living in the same city, taking trips together. Even if she broke off the love affair, I knew Scott would worm his way back into her heart. I felt horrible for not trusting my wife, and I buried that pain deep. Maybe I shouldn't be married to Robin if I couldn't trust her.
Then again, she did cheat on me first. There was no getting around that. But she apologized. And I pushed her further into his arms with my own desire to watch her make love.
What a twisted path I was treading on.
I decided to drive home, to Phoenix, to spend the first day of the New Year in bed, nursing a hangover.
I hoped I had enough Scotch at home to make that happen.
Chapter 9
Robin
Her mind is abuzz with uncertainty. She is close; so close to closure.
She drives south, past pines and cacti and distant mountain peaks, her mind, a battlefield of conflicting wants and desires. Two forces pulling in opposite directions.
She knows which way she should go. She knows which course of action to take. She knows what she wants.
She also knows she must be the one to decide. She can't be coerced or cajoled. She knows what to do.
He just makes it so hard.
Peter
I woke up late on New Year's Day, really late, like eight o'clock at night late. My head hurt, my throat was dry and I was so hungry. I took two aspirin with a glass of water to take care of my first two aches and went to the kitchen to find something to settle my third.
I emptied a can of chicken noodle soup into a sauce pan and contemplated the next step in resolving my marriage situation.
Situation seemed to be the best word to describe it. It wasn't a problem or an issue. I had no problem with being married to Robin. I enjoyed it and I wanted it to continue.
Our marriage may have been a problem for Robin; I wasn't going to assume anything. I did know it was a problem for Scott, since he appeared to want my wife to himself.
It wasn't a matter of sharing. He wanted her and was doing his best to seduce her over to his side, and he had plenty of ammunition to use in that battle.
Scott had good looks, a charming personality – when he wanted to – and lots of money. I was just a nice guy with a decent job. He even had a bigger dick than I did. From my point of view, he offered a better package and Robin would be a fool to pass it up.
I ate my soup and decided my next step. I'd call Robin, check on how she felt and politely tell her I was letting her go. I wasn't going to hold her back. This job, this relationship she had with Scott, was too good to pass up.
We didn't have kids or much of an estate to divide up. I was sure we could end our marriage peacefully and remain friends.
After I finished my meal, I washed the dishes, tided up the kitchen and sat down to call Robin. I pressed her icon on my phone and the line immediately went to voice mail. I had already left my apology the night before – actually earlier that morning. I wasn't going to leave a break-up message. I sent her another text message instead.
- Call Me
Now it was up to her.
A minute later the phone buzzed. It was an unknown number.
“Hello?” I said.
“Where is she?” It was Scott.
“Where's who?”
“Your wife, you idiot.” Scott said, his voice low but full of anger. “The person you just texted.”
“How'd you know I...”
“She left her fucking phone here.”
That was not like Robin. She must have really been pissed.
“If you have her phone,” I said, “then you must have heard the voice mail I sent and you must know I have no idea where she is.”
“I didn't listen to any goddamn messages because, a, I wouldn't do that and b, the phone's locked and I don't have her password.”
So I knew her phone password and Scott, her lover, didn't. That was comforting. I could have told him it was Beas4ver, but I didn't.
“I only saw the few texts you sent,” Scott said. “On the screen. So I called you.”
He must have thought she was with me, trying to find her phone.
“Well, I don't know where she is,” I said. “I haven't seen her since last night.”
“She's not at her apartment,” Scott said. “And she's not at the spa. I figured she had to be with you.”
“Yeah, well, I thought she'd be with you.” We were both in the same boat, Scott and I. Both desiring the same woman and neither of us with an advantage.
“She's not,” Scott said. “You have any phone numbers for her relatives? I want to call them, see if she's there.”
“No,” I lied. The last thing I wanted was Scott calling my in-laws.
“I'm pretty sure you're lying to me, but anyway. If she contacts you, tell her to call me.”
“Sure thing, Scott.” I lied, again. “Bye.” I ended the call.
I had no intention of telling Robin to call Scott, and I doubted he'd tell her to call me.
Despite sleeping in most of the day, I was still tired so I went back to bed. I lay there, tossing and turning, my mind racing against my body's weariness. Sleep avoided me.
Although I was worried about Robin, I knew there was nothing I could do. She was an adult and she wasn't drunk when she left. If anything had happened, the cops would have called me. In the morning, I'd call my wife's family in Jersey, see if she'd contacted them, although I didn't know how she'd do that without her cell phone.
I had no idea what to do after that. File a missing persons report? How long do you wait to do that? Twenty-four hours seemed too soon, that's what I learned from all the cop shows I watch.
Most likely, Robin was fine. She just needed to blow off some steam. She'd been under a lot of pressure with the job, the pregnancy and her affair with Scott.
Now that the spa was up and running and doing well, her lover and I were the only issues she still had to deal with.
I finally nodded off with a vision of Robin, pacing some room, contemplating dumping Scott or me. My last conscious thought was the realization she could dump both of us.
***
The next morning I went to work and tried to act like nothing was wrong. I gave a few rabies shots and checked one kitten for worms. At lunch, I called my father-in-law in Newark. It was a short call. I didn't come out and say I was looking for Robin; I didn't want to needlessly alarm them. After a few minutes of pointless conversation, I concluded Robin hadn't called them within the last few days. I made an excuse and politely ended the call.
Throughout the second half of the day, I tried to think of other avenues of investigation, other than calling the police. I was getting ready to head home around five-thirty, when I got a call. It was from the same number as last night, the one Scott called from. I didn't answer it. Let the fucker leave a message.
A minute later the icon on my phone indicated he did just that. I listened to the message.
“Peter,” It wasn't Scott. It was a vaguely familiar female voice. “This is Marylyn at the Spirit Spa.” So even they started abbreviating that ridiculously long name. “I wanted to call and tell you Robin called us. She wanted me to pass along a message to you. Don't try to call her because she doesn't have her phone. She's fine and will be in touch. I hope everything's okay; that's from me. Thanks. Bye.”
Well, that was to the point, and very vague. Would she call me soon? Would her lawyer be getting in touch? I had no fucking clue. So for the next few days I was in a state of emotional limbo. I went to work and came home. I didn't feel like going out much or trying to have any fun. My heart wasn't in it.
I still felt married and even though we had an open relationship, it felt wrong to date someone else while my own status with Robin was up in the air.
Funny thing was, I had no clue wh
at my wife was doing. She might have been fucking Scott, or maybe with some other man she met. I didn't think about that too much. It hurt. So, instead, I imagined she was being as chaste as I was.
On the first Saturday of the New Year I contacted a legal aid hotline and got the information I needed to file for divorce in Arizona. I was not going to be caught off-guard by her lawyer, if that was the route she was taking.
What I found astounded me. It was ludicrously easy to end a marriage. As long as there were no kids and no arguments over property, it was simply filling out some forms and paying court costs, and even those could be waived. After sixty days my marriage could be dissolved. I could be a single man again before my next wedding anniversary.
I went online and started filling out the forms. It was an emotionally painful process. Each key stroke was a stab at my heart. I only got about a quarter of the way through it before I had to stop. I saved the little progress I had made and went to get a drink.
The Oasis parking lot was about half full, as was to be expected this early on a Saturday. Inside was busy, but not packed. I could have sat in a booth and watched the crowd, but that would make it too easy to wallow in my pity. Instead, I took a seat at the bar and started chatting with Angie.
“Haven't seen you in a while,” the red-head said to me as she set down my scotch. “Thought you found a new favorite watering hole.”
I took Angie's wrist and kissed the back of her hand. “Nothing could replace you, dear.”
“Funny.”
Angie continued making drinks and talking with me when she had a chance. At one point she had to head to the back to change a beer keg. I thought of the last time I went back there with her and I started getting an erection.
“So, you know Angie?” The voice came from the bar stool on my left. She was a blonde, with long wavy hair and golden tanned skin. She had a figure that would look good on the cover of Maxim magazine, but she was about my age, so those lads would never think of featuring her. Their loss.
“Yeah,” I said. “I come here, on and off.” I wasn't about to get into how well I knew Angie.
“I'm Susan, by the way.”
“Sorry. I'm Peter.” We shook hands. “So what do you do, Susan?” Best way to get over one failed relationship was to start another one, I guess.
“I'm in real estate. I'm celebrating a big sale out in Fountain Hills.”
“Congratulations,” I raised my tumbler and noticed my companion's was empty. “Angie, get Susan here another. On me.”
We toasted to her success. She thanked me for the drink. We chatted for a bit, mostly about our jobs. All the time I couldn't help but notice Angie would occasionally look my way and smirk. I asked her about it when Susan got up to use the ladies' room.
“You jealous?” I asked her.
“If you only knew.” Angie said.
“What's that mean.”
“You thinking of hooking up with her?”
“Wasn't planning on it.” I wasn't, but now that Angie put that thought into my head. “But maybe.”
“She's married.” My cock started twitching.
“Guess I'm not getting lucky tonight.” I said.
Angie leaned across the bar and whispered to me. “You might be surprised.”
Susan came back and sat down before I could ask the red-head to elaborate.
“You miss me?” Susan asked.
“Kinda.” I was enjoying flirting, harmless conversation, that might or might not lead to anything. I was betting on, might not. I wasn't in the mood and Susan was married. I glanced at her left hand and noticed a marked absence of a wedding ring, although I did see a light impression on her ring finger where one would be.
I started nervously twirling my own ring.
“You expecting your wife?” Susan said when she saw what I was doing. “Think she'll get pissed, you talking to blond like me?”
I laughed. Robin was the last person I expected to see.
“No. I was wondering when your spouse was going to show up.”
Susan looked a little shaken. “How?”
“You can't just take the ring off before you head out to the bar.” I indicated the discoloration on her finger.
“It's my first time.”
I doubted it. “You cheating?”
“We're just flirting. I could go somewhere else, if you're uncomfortable.”
“No. I like your company. Helps take my mind off my problems.”
We talked a little more, but when she realized I wasn't going to hit on her she lost interest and excused herself.
“So what's her game?” I asked Angie when she came to collect Susan's empty glass.
“Not sure,” Angie said. “Seen her in here a couple times with a tall blond white guy. But I've also seen her chat up lonely guys like you.”
“Thanks.” I said.
“Truth hurts. Never seen her leave with anyone else. Maybe she just likes the casual flirting.”
I had Angie save my seat and went to the men's room. While I was peeing I thought about Susan and the game she was playing. Was she going behind her husband's back? That seemed unlikely, since she was doing it in a bar they both frequented. He must know. Maybe he even encouraged her to chat up other guys. It wasn't hard to imagine a guy getting off on seeing other guy's hitting on his wife. Maybe he liked watching other men try to hook up with her, knowing she'd eventually shoot them down and go home to fuck him, instead.
Or maybe he was one of those freaks who liked to watch her fuck other men. One of those freaks like me. I had discovered the world was full of sexual variations, and thought it was a good thing.
I was washing my hands when I noticed a familiar tune come over the sound system. I hadn't really been paying attention to the music, but this song drew my attention. For one thing, it wasn't the normal classic rock or alternative stuff the Oasis usually played. And for another, it was our song.
“Why the hell are you playing this?” I asked Angie as I returned to my seat.
The beautiful bartender smiled and kept wiping off the rocks glass she had in her hand.
“Why the hell are you playing, Little River Band?”
“Because I asked her to,” someone behind me said.
I turned to face the source of the voice.
It was Robin. “Surprise.”
My wife grabbed my face and kissed me.
My mind was reeling as our tongues wrestled. I was lost in a miasma of passion, confusion and emotional pain. When Robin finally pulled away, all I could say was, “What the fuck?”
“You, Peter. I choose you.”
My wife sat down at the vacant stool next to mine and ordered a white wine from Angie. I still stood stunned by what had happened, realizing Robin had answered the question I had first posed months ago.
Eventually, the fact that my marriage wasn't over hit me and I wanted to shout, but I didn't. I still had so many questions that needed answering.
“How the hell did you know I was here?” was my first. I realized the answer when I saw Robin look up at our bartender and smile.
“Angie called me,” Robin said.
“When you said I might still get lucky,” I said, speaking to the red-head, “you weren't talking about the hot blonde.”
“A blonde?” Robin said in mock horror.
“She could have been a back-up,” Angie said, “but no, I was thinking about your wife.”
I took another sip of Scotch as Robin explained how she had stopped by the Oasis a couple of days prior and told my fuck buddy to call when I eventually came around; yes, she used that phase and yes, Angie winked at me in response.
“Why not come to me? Stop at the house, or the clinic?” I said.
I must have sounded a bit pissed because Robin's cheeks took on a bit of red. “I wanted to surprise you.”
“You sure the fuck did. What if I never came back here?”
“I didn't figure you could stay away from your favorite bartender for long.
”
Now it was my turn to blush. “We haven't dated in like, two or three months,” I said.
“Wasn't my fault,” Angie said, before going to pour beers for another couple.
“I wouldn't have minded,” Robin said, although I doubted she was being a hundred percent honest. “Wasn't like I was there to take care of your,” she reached down to grab my penis, “needs.”
“Too many things going on in my head,” I said. Robin squeezed, “my other head.” My wife seemed to be enjoying herself, but I thought it was a serious issue. “I've been filling out divorce papers.”
Robin's smile disappeared and she withdrew her hand. “You're divorcing me?” It was like some surprise she didn't see coming. I thought about playing out the tension, maybe demonstrate how much it hurt not knowing what your partner was thinking. I didn't do that.
“I couldn't get through the first page and a half,” I said.
Robin's face eased a bit and she took a drink.
“We have to resolve this, Robin. I love you, but I can't be a part-time husband.”
“Oh, Peter.” My wife reached up and touched my cheek. “I never wanted that either. I thought I could control myself. I got carried away. I'm sorry I let my lust for Scott turn to love.”
She wasn't apologizing for the affair, just the aftermath. It was a start.
“I'm sorry for asking you to let me watch you...” I paused and looked to make sure no one was paying any attention to us. I leaned in and whispered, “fuck him.”
Robin smiled and said, “I'm not. That threesome was so fucking fun. I'm just sorry I went back to his place after. That's when I accepted his offer and fell in love.”
“When did you know it was over?” I wasn't sure it mattered, but I really wanted to know. Secrecy and suspicion had grown like a cancer in our life and getting everything out in the open was the only way to get rid of it.
“Let's take this somewhere a little more private,” Robin said.