Ana was on the brink of tears. Never before did she perceive the conflict between her two kinds of love—the one for her family filled with affection and a sense of duty, the other for her lover, filled with pleasure and excitement—so poignantly, so painfully. “If only we had met before I married Rob ... Or at least before we had Michelle and Allen, it would have been another story. But we don’t have the right to destroy the lives of those who love and depend upon us. That would be terribly selfish of us.”
Michael had the sinking feeling of being slowly crushed by the weight of her rejection. But he wasn’t ready to give up on his goal just yet. Reminding himself that they had been together less than three months, he blamed their fundamental disagreement solely on the factor of time. “I didn’t mean to suggest that I’m taking the kid situation lightly,” he said, attempting to mask his disappointment. Don’t lose your cool. Keep your eyes on the prize at all times, he reminded himself.
Fired up as she was, the terminology her lover used to refer to her children’s wellbeing struck Ana as insensitive: “The kid situation?” she repeated. “Michelle and Allen are innocent children who count on having a loving mother and father throughout their childhood.”
“Yeah, well, statistically that doesn’t happen approximately thirty percent of the time.”
“I don’t give a hoot about statistics!” she became more incensed. “My kids are not statistics to me.”
“I never said they were. Why are you trying to pick a fight?”
Ana made an effort to appeal to her lover’s sympathy: “You don’t have children. You don’t even have a wife. You can’t possibly understand what I’m going through; how much I dread hurting my family.”
But to Michael’s ears, her words sounded accusatory. “Hey, don’t try to pin our affair on me. It takes two to tango.”
Although they were sitting across the table from each other, Ana had never felt so much distance between them. She looked at her lover as if he were a stranger, astonished by his inability to envision the suffering their actions would cause to those they loved. The two sides of Michael just didn’t seem to mesh, so Ana bridged the gap by focusing on his qualities. “I love you,” she murmured, scooting her chair closer to his.
Although she meant it, in that instant, her words rang hollow to him. “Yeah, well, you sure don’t show it.”
Ana had the impression that in the space of only a few minutes Michael had withdrawn several miles. “It’s amazing how warm it is outside,” she commented after awhile, uncomfortable with the silence.
“We’re lucky to get an Indian summer this late in the year,” he concurred. The tone and content of their exchange, so conventional and extrinsic to anything they were feeling, reminded Michael of his usual interaction with Karen. He had hit a wall in his relationship with his girlfriend and didn’t think that he deserved it. After all, he thought, Ana’s the only woman to whom I’ve given my all. I’m entitled to her devotion and fidelity. By all rights, she should be mine. An overflow of negative emotion saturated his body, escaping through every pore. He tried to control this internal pressure by taking slow, deliberate breaths.
He looks like a bull about to charge at me, Ana observed. “I’ve never seen you so upset,” she said nervously.
“I’ll be alright,” Michael replied, though his anger was still mounting.
“Have you decided what you want for dessert?” the waitress came by their table.
“We’ll just have the check please,” he said, without consulting his girlfriend.
“If I said something to hurt you, please let’s talk about it,” Ana pleaded with him, not wishing to end their date on such a sour note.
Her conciliatory tone only fueled his irritation. “We’ve said all there is to say at this point,” Michael said coolly, following with his eyes the waitress as she returned with the check. “Thanks,” he handed her his credit card.
“Perhaps we can arrive at some kind of compromise,” Ana suggested. But at the moment she couldn’t think of any. She either divorced Rob to be with Michael or she didn’t. “Why can’t we just stay lovers?” she ended up reiterating her original position.
Michael smirked. “Is that what you call compromising? Having everything on your terms?”
“We see each other so often, we might as well be spouses,” Ana weakly protested.
“Well, if we’re really like spouses, then I’d like to spend the upcoming Thanksgiving and Christmas holidays with you. And while we’re at it, let’s throw in this weekend too. How would your husband feel about that?”
“You always forget about the kids ...”
“You can bring them along. Just make sure that you leave Rob behind.”
“It’s not so simple,” Ana responded to his sarcastic remark as if it were a serious proposition.
“It sure isn’t, because you choose to make life unnecessarily complicated for us.” Michael stood up to leave. He’d had enough.
“When will we see each other again?” she asked him, feeling for the first time in their brief yet intense relationship that she was at risk of being abandoned.
“I don’t know.” He didn’t want to commit to any course of action he might later regret.
“Are you upset with me?” Ana asked him, hoping against hope that he’d say no.
“I’m disappointed,” Michael once again showed deliberate restraint in his words. Yet inside he felt the frustration of an animal whose prey is about to escape. He attempted to calm himself down by focusing on the shape of Ana’s lips rounded into an “o” around his shaft, as she lay on her knees begging his pardon.
“Then why do you sound so cold?”
“Because I’d have liked to see in you the love I feel for you.” He looked steadily into her eyes like into a mirror.
“But you do. You know full well that I’m madly in love with you!”
As he saw the raw emotion reflected in her gaze, a new wave of heat rose to his head. To cool off, Michael imagined his girlfriend on all fours, as he was drilling into her, tempted by her orifices, punishing her for sabotaging their relationship. “Yeah, well, apparently not enough,” he said out loud, still sullen and distant. Ana was either with him or against him. He wouldn’t tolerate being strung along by her much longer, that much was certain.
“What more do you want from me?” she pleaded with a note of despair that reminded him of Karen.
“I want your commitment,” Michael said resolutely. “Otherwise, all your nice words mean nothing to me.”
“You already have it. I’ll be your girlfriend for as long as you love me,” she promised him.
Michael felt like flipping over the table when he heard that absurd statement. Once again, he channeled his anger into fantasies bordering on erotic violence. This time, Ana lay prostrate on the ground, inviting penetration by slowly introducing Vaseline into her anus with each finger of her left hand. “Thanks, but I didn’t ask you to be my girlfriend. Correct me if I’m wrong, that’s what you already are. I wanted you to be my wife.”
“Wanted?” Ana focused on his use of the past tense. “So you don’t want it anymore?” Never before had she encountered such a strange combination of passionate intensity and extreme conditionality in love, which confused and unhinged her.
“It’s not my wishes that pose a problem for us. It’s yours,” Michael replied quietly, glancing out the window. In its slow rotation, the circular tower had arrived at a position that was approximately 180 degrees away from where it began. “You’re the only one who seems to be confused. I, for one, know exactly what I want.”
“For now ...”
“Pardon?”
“You know that you want me for now,” she repeated louder.
“Yeah, well, that’s a low blow and we both know it,” Michael appeared wounded to the quick by her comment.
Ana looked at her lover steadily, ready to meet his challenge. “Has it ever crossed your mind that sometimes I want different things than what you
want? Our interests don’t always coincide.”
“We need to be on the same page on what’s important, Ana. Because when our interests will diverge, so will our paths in life.”
Michael’s tone sounded serious and decisive. Ana didn’t know what to say in response. After the waitress returned his credit card, the couple got up to leave.
“You want an ellipse with two focal points, while I want a circle with just one: us,” he summed up their situation as they exited the restaurant through its revolving door.
Chapter 7
Feeling like he had overplayed his hand, Michael decided to make a gesture of reconciliation. He called Ana the next day, sounding contrite. “Hey, Baby ...”
“Hi,” she answered curtly.
“Listen, I’m sorry about how I behaved the other day. Believe me, I’m painfully aware of how difficult it must be for you.”
“Actually, I was going to call you if you didn’t call me,” Ana quickly warmed up.
They agreed to meet at Huron Park. As soon as she saw Michael, Ana felt reassured that all was well between them again. Michael wrapped his arms protectively around Ana to feel her heartbeat through every pore. He rocked gently sideways back and forth, to soothe her nerves. “You’re in my bubble now. I won’t let anything hurt you.” His voice was tender, buttery.
Ana looked up at him. “Your bubble?”
“Yeah. Ever since I was a little kid I imagined that I had this bubble around me. It kept me safe.” Michael’s features became animated. “Just this past summer for example, I went to a convenience store in Phoenix. That evening, when I was watching the local news, I found out that it was robbed at gunpoint only an hour after I left. The bubble kept me out of harm’s way. Now you’re in my bubble too. It will keep both of us safe.”
She felt like asking him: What about my children? Are they in your bubble too? But she was afraid to spoil their reconciliation.
“Your kids also,” Michael read her mind. “I’ll take care of them, if it ever comes to that.”
They began walking hand in hand along the cement path. But Ana wasn’t chipper as usual. She recalled that the last time they were in that park together, she had run ahead of Michael and he had playfully chased after her. The lightness of their courtship was beginning to sink under the weight of pressure. Her gaze was disoriented, scattered like the dead leaves swept away by the autumn wind.
“There’s something on your mind,” Michael remarked.
She nodded in silence.
“You want to talk about it?” They stopped by a nearby bench and took a seat. He motioned her to sit on his lap, with her legs wrapped up around his torso.
“It’s the same old problem. But there’s no good solution to it,” Ana said quietly.
“Look,” Michael began, “I know you don’t want to hurt your kids. But even if I weren’t directly involved in this, I’d give you the same piece of advice.” He swept the bangs away from Ana’s forehead, to better gaze into her eyes. “I’d tell you, don’t bullshit your kids. Because sooner or later they’ll find out about us. Believe me, they’ll be much more hurt by the all the lying and sneaking around. You’re only compounding the future harm.”
“You expect me to tell an eight and a nine year old about our affair?” Ana asked, taken aback.
“Not necessarily. I’m just saying, don’t think you can fool them for much longer. Have the courage to reach a decision. I’ll understand either way. But you can’t sit on the fence forever. In the long run, your indecision will hurt everyone, including yourself.”
By way of contrast to their earlier altercation, Michael’s words now sounded to Ana like the voice of reason. “I know I’m not a moral person,” she replied. “I’ve wronged my husband and I’m not treating him or the kids fairly. I fell so madly in love with you so fast that I didn’t even have the chance to put on the brakes. And my marriage was weak, weaker even than my will. But I know that I don’t want to hurt my kids. Just like I don’t want to lose you. I’m stuck in an impossible double bind and I don’t really know how to escape it.”
“I know Baby,” Michael pulled her head towards him, so that it nestled upon his chest. She felt comforted by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “But it’s your kids that I have in mind when I tell you to be honest.”
Ana looked up at him again, as he gently stroked her hair. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t want them to lose respect for you. Or for us, in the long run. You know, to discover what’s going on by accident and then realize that their mom was a cheater and a liar. If you have the courage to tell them the truth, then at least then at least they can’t blame you for pulling the wool over their eyes.”
Ana felt that what her lover was saying made sense. But the risk of harm was greater than Michael was willing to admit. “Divorce isn’t easy on kids their age,” she countered. “It can leave emotional scars for life. Especially since they have a stable home environment, with loving parents. I mean, it’s not like Rob’s ever abusive or anything. He’s a good husband and a great father. It’s tough to break up our family for purely selfish reasons.”
Michael had to fight his visceral irritation at her stubbornness. “I realize that. But we can’t live in limbo forever. Look, there’s no way to avoid hurting people in our situation,” he pursued. “In cheating on our partners, we’ve done a lot of damage already. The only question we need to answer at this point is how we can minimize the harm, not how to avoid it altogether,” he reasoned with her. “That’s what we’ve been quibbling about lately. You claim we’ll minimize it by continuing with the lying and the cheating. I say it’s by fessing up and embracing our new life together with dignity and courage. The kids would adjust so much better to our situation if we told them the truth right away.”
“What about Rob? I don’t have the heart to hurt him either.”
“But that’s exactly what you’re doing.”
“Yes, but at least he doesn’t know it,” Ana said, nervously shifting about.
“That’s sheer hypocrisy,” Michael countered. ”They say what you don’t know won’t hurt you. But they’re dead ass wrong about that. It’s the lies that hurt most.” He sensed Ana’s hesitation so he expanded upon his point. “Think of it as hurting Rob now in order to spare him more pain in the long run. Kind of like a father who breaks his son’s leg so that he won’t be drafted into the war. It hurts the son to have his leg broken. But the risk of worse harm—serious injuries and maybe even death—is so much greater if he goes to war than if he doesn’t. At least honesty will give Rob a chance to heal and move on with his life.”
“I hate to be in this position,” Ana said. “No matter what I do, it feels wrong.”
Michael was about to tell her, hey, you decided of your own free will to have an affair with me. Nobody forced you into it. But instead of inculpating her further, he remained diplomatic, to lighten the burden of guilt that continued to pose a barrier between them. “In life it’s impossible to avoid harming others,” he said philosophically. “Every choice we make is, in some way, at the expense of someone else. Even if you did nothing at all and continued in the lukewarm relationship you have with your husband, you’d still be hurting each other. Because you’d both be losing out on real love with people with whom you’re much more compatible. You found someone who’s better for you,” he said, closely observing her reaction. “Right?” Ana confirmed his statement with a nod. “Well then, don’t blow it for us, Baby. You only have one life to live. You owe yourself a chance for real happiness. You owe me that as well. And Rob too. He deserves to be loved as well.”
“But I do love him,” she protested.
“You have a funny way of showing it.”
“I know. That’s part of what makes me feel so bad.”
Michael gazed lovingly into her eyes. “Ana, I need you much more than Rob does. Because I love you so much more than he does,” he said with conviction.
Although Ana didn’t reply, Michae
l felt quite confident that this conversation struck a chord with her. If not now, then in a week, or a month, or maybe even a couple of months. Slowly but surely, he’d chip away at her misguided scruples and misplaced loyalties. Soon enough, his girlfriend would revolve solely around him, just as Karen did.
Chapter 8
Ana arrived home with a heavy heart. For the first time since the beginning of her affair, she realized that she’d soon be compelled to make a choice between her lover and her husband. She attempted to distract herself by doing household chores. Vacuuming, dusting, doing the laundry filled her hours on that afternoon. She folded Rob’s clothes with extreme care, even tenderness. When she hung up his work shirts, she caught a whiff of his cologne upon the suits and ties hanging in his closet. The mixture of familiarity, nostalgia and regret made her weak at the knees. Rob had worn the same brand of cologne for as long as she had known him. His clothes were redolent of the first blush of love, when she’d eagerly await every single date with him. But now, the air inside her husband’s office seemed saturated with her own anxiety.
“Hi there,” Rob entered the room noiselessly and touched her lightly on the shoulder. Startled, Ana turned around. “Do you have allergies?” he asked her, surprised by the redness of her eyelids.
Ana quickly wiped away her tears with her sleeve. “I was just thinking about how much I miss you.”
Rob’s demeanor changed from serene to apprehensive. Was she going to engage him in one of those draining “us” conversations? he wondered. “Yeah, well, you hardly seem that eager to spend any time with me anymore,” he made a preemptive move, unwilling to take the blame for their mutual estrangement.
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