Sex Happens

by Carol Soloway

  She knew Gabe always got what he wanted. Whenever he set his mind to something, nothing ever stopped him. “Well, they loved it, right?”

  “Um.” He looked down at his menu. “How are my boys?” he asked.

  No. Not now, she thought. She loved the boys more than life, and she loved being a mother and wife, but tonight she wanted to be his lover.

  “I asked about the boys,” he repeated.

  “Wonderful, but they missed you this week.”

  “Alex, we did a good job with the boys.”

  Wondering why he was describing their parenting in the past tense—almost wistfully—she agreed. “And Eric brought up having his own room again.”

  “We’ll see about that. Right now, I’m not changing anything in the house.” He called the waiter over.

  “Gabe, I love the house. It’s perfect.”

  During dinner, they talked about how clever Gabe was for purchasing their wonderful house and how well behaved and adorable their boys were. But she wanted to talk about them—their marriage—their lost intimacy. She wanted to hear him tell her how much he missed her, longed for her, loved her. She decided that would happen. The weekend would unwind as it was supposed to.

  After their chocolate mousse, she winked at him. “Want to go dancing or …?”

  “I’m going to gamble.”

  “But—”

  “Alex, I haven’t had a chance the whole week with all the seminar preparation.”

  She studied him, trying to figure out whether he was telling her the truth. For all she knew, he could have gambled every evening during the conference. He was always secretive about money, and he’d insisted on controlling the finances right from his very first paycheck. His parents had had a nasty divorce. His mother had hired a Park Avenue attorney who’d demanded all of his father’s financial records. When his mother had learned his father had embezzled money from his partners, she’d decided to tell the partners, even though it’d meant she’d also lose everything. His father had had to pay off his partners or go to jail. Gabe had told Alex he’d seen the other side of marriage—the dark and ugly side—and he vowed he’d never allow anyone to do that to him.

  She followed him to the casino.

  After an hour, as Gabe sat at a blackjack table under a canopy of turquoise-and-burgundy silk, she leaned close and seductively invited him up to their room. His eyes fixed on his cards, he waved at her like one does an annoying fly. “Later,” he promised.

  She took the elevator to their room, undressed, and put on her new negligee. She waited for two hours. Finally realizing the futility of her expectation, she threw her negligee on the floor, put on one of Gabe’s T-shirts, and sobbed.

  CHAPTER 3

  At three in the morning, Gabe finally returned to the room. He neatly folded his clothes over the chair, climbed into bed, and fell asleep.

  Devastated, Alex couldn’t sleep. Finally, she turned toward Gabe sleeping peacefully beside her, his tuxedo-black hair against the white pillow. Slipping her hand under the white comforter, she trailed her fingers down his body.

  “Alex, I’m done with your romantic weekend.” He turned his well-chiseled face away.

  “Gabe, it’s our anniversary.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said softly, almost gently. “Alex, it’s not you.”

  But she knew it was her. It had to be.

  He got out of bed and walked to the bureau. As she watched him steal away the possibility of intimacy, she hugged the comforter to her. In despair, she stared down at the red negligee laying on the floor.

  He picked up his cell phone, read a text, and turned to her. “We have to leave now.”

  “We’re booked until tomorrow.”

  “Alex, there’s a problem at the hospital. They need me.” He turned away, went into the bathroom, and closed the door.

  She got out of bed and grabbed his cell phone. There was a text from the hospital, instructing him that one of the interns had breached some protocol, and he had to return. Reassuring herself that he’d told her the truth, she put his cell phone on the bureau and crept back into bed.

  From the bathroom, the usual sound of Gabe humming in the shower was unmelodic, almost angry. She knew he’d been anxious about both his invention and his impending partnership in the most successful cardiac practice in Orange County, California, but lately, she’d been apprehensive about how distant and secretive he’d become.

  “Aren’t you going to shower?” Gabe asked, returning from the bathroom, the towel slipping down from around his waist.

  “I’ll wait until we get home. It’ll be nice to see the boys and …”

  “I miss Honey too,” he said.

  Their eyes met, and they shared a knowing sadness.

  “The boys’ll be fine,” he said and tightened the towel around his waist. “Children are resilient.”

  She wanted to believe him, but she wasn’t sure. The boys seemed to be coping with the loss of Honey, but there’d been an overwhelming sense of grief, a pervasive tension in the house for the past several months. There even seemed to be something more than the loss of Honey that was invading the serenity of their beautiful family.

  Gabe took his clothes from the bureau and turned to go back to the bathroom.

  Wondering why he’d chosen to dress in the bathroom, she got out of bed and reached for the white shirt, raspberry cashmere cardigan, and jeans she’d draped over the chair.

  Showered and shaved, clad in sharply creased jeans and a Lacoste golf shirt, Gabe returned to the bedroom and stepped into his preppy loafers. He grabbed yesterday’s clothes from the other chair, threw them into his suitcase, and closed it.

  “You look nice,” she said.

  “Um.” He picked up the remote. “I hate these automatic checkouts. We’re going downstairs.” He lifted his suitcase off the luggage stand and rolled it out of the room. Then he turned back and motioned to her. “Now.”

  Although she was used to his abrupt tone whenever there was a problem or emergency at the hospital, she almost started to cry. Disappointed the weekend had ended without the reconnection she’d hoped for and knew they needed, she rolled her suitcase to the elevator, and they rode down to the lobby in silence.

  While Gabe waited in line at the registration desk, Alex gazed up at the kaleidoscope of colored glass shapes that covered the Bellagio’s ceiling. This time, the balloons made her think of a circus. A circus. The bright shapes were everywhere, hundreds of them, swirling around her. Alex shuddered and tried to not to think about the time she’d been frightened by a fat lady in the circus, but the memory ghosts were always trying to wrap their tentacles around her and pull her back to horrific childhood memories.

  “The valet’s here with the car,” Gabe said, jarring her back to the present.

  After ten silent minutes in traffic, she glanced back at the glass towers of the Las Vegas strip, the twinkling miniatures a mockery of her grandiose plans for a magical weekend.

  Gabe turned up the Neil Diamond CD. She reached for his hand and entwined her fingers through his. He moved his hand away and gripped the steering wheel.

  She tensed.

  He leaned across the burl-wood console and muted the CD. “I’m going to tell you the truth.”

  “The truth?” Alex repeated. Suddenly cold and clammy, she knew this moment would be tattooed onto her heart forever.

  “I’m leaving you,” he said.

  Panic gripped her, and she felt as though she was going to faint. She thought he could just as easily have said, “I’m going to kill you,” because that was how it felt. She thought about grabbing the steering wheel and sending them off the road at high speed. And if they both died, then “until death do us part” would come true. The story of Alexandra and Gabriel Rose would end as it was supposed to end—together.

  She couldn’t im
agine waking up without Gabe every morning, going to sleep between cold sheets, or no longer cuddling next to him when he returned to their bed after an emergency at the hospital in the middle of the night.

  Sure, she’d suspected something was wrong, but she’d never thought it would come to this. She’d thought maybe they’d gotten too busy, and he was preoccupied with his invention and impending partnership. There wasn’t anything wrong. There couldn’t be.

  “I don’t want this to end.” Tears filled her eyes.

  “It did,” he whispered.

  Heart pounding, tears streaming down her face, she thought this couldn’t be real. This had to be a dream. Her life couldn’t be ripped from her this easily. She pulled down the visor, slid the mirror open, and stared at her reflection. She ran her fingers through her hair and then froze. Pain and terror reflected back.

  “I’m sorry.” He handed her his handkerchief.

  She took it. She knew exactly how he liked his handkerchiefs pressed. Although few men carried cloth handkerchiefs anymore, he’d insisted on a clean, perfectly ironed handkerchief every day. Amazing how all the little details anchor us to a person, she thought. Yes, she knew everything about him—or so she’d thought. She laughed.

  “I’m glad you’re taking it so well,” he said.

  “No, I’m vacillating between anger and terror. I hate you for doing this, and—”

  “I told you I was sorry.”

  “Sorry isn’t enough. Why don’t you just take the cigarette lighter and burn my other wrist?”

  Only Gabe—well, of course, her sister, too—knew about the scar on her right wrist. Now his words were more searing than any burn. She’d never felt such pain. Her head was throbbing, she was chilled, and her heart was beating so quickly she thought she’d faint.

  He took her hand, and from the gentle sadness of his touch, she knew she’d lost him.

  She pulled her hand away. “You’ll never find anyone who’ll love you as much as I do.”

  “I already did.”

  Shocked, she felt totally out of control. Without any warning, she was watching their marriage disappear like part of a magic act. There was a pressure on her chest, and she couldn’t take a breath. No, it wasn’t happening to her; it couldn’t be. But it was; it really was.

  “Who?” she asked.

  “Linda,” he whispered.

  “Linda,” she repeated. Visions of Linda, the hospital administrator, and Gabe flashed before her. She tried to recall the Christmas party. Gabe and Linda had been talking to each other for a long time, but Alex had just thought he was acquiring another ally for his impending partnership. That was all he seemed to be focused on—or was it? “Why?” she asked.

  “Linda and I just happened to—”

  “Sex doesn’t just happen!” she yelled, frustrated and scared.

  “You’re certainly right on that one,” he said, almost cruelly.

  “Gabe, last night you were too busy gambling to even come to bed.”

  “And why’d you go out and buy that sexy red negligee for the weekend? Where was that all these years?”

  She felt a sadness to the very depths of her heart and asked, “With the boys coming into the bedroom at night when they were sick or had bad dreams, how could I wear something like that? Wasn’t our sex life good?”

  “It became more like scratching an itch.” He shrugged.

  “That was cruel.”

  “Sometimes the truth is cruel.”

  She glanced out the window at the monotone tan desert. Had she been that to him—uninteresting? Boring? Why was he really leaving her? She couldn’t watch their love turn, right before her eyes, from warm, soft colors to cold, endless nothing. From the moment they’d met, she’d felt safe, anchored to the world. Hoping he’d change his mind, come to his senses, she wondered aloud, “Is sex really that different with someone else?”

  “Find out for yourself,” he said, an edge to his voice, as though his decision required him to steel himself against her.

  “I will,” she said, but couldn’t imagine sex with anyone else. Sex was the part of her only he knew. She looked at him, the only lover she’d ever known, and almost afraid to hear the answer, she asked, “How did it happen?”

  “Linda and I were at a meeting, and we started talking. You know …”

  “No, I don’t fucking know,” she screamed. She was asking him what had happened to them, their marriage, their life, but he was explaining how he and Linda had fallen in love. She was no longer part of his story. And for her, there was no story without him.

  Then, as though he didn’t hear her, he continued with what appeared to be a speech he’d been rehearsing while she’d slept securely in their bed.

  “Linda and I,” he said with a familiarity that made it clear they’d been together for a long time.

  “You and Linda,” she repeated. Angry, confused, she wondered whether there’d been a time when she and Linda had been like magnets, each pulling him in the opposite direction. And he’d chosen Linda.

  “Sorry,” he said softly.

  Her stomach churned, and she thought of how devastated the boys would be if Gabe left them. “We have to work this out for the boys.”

  “I’m not leaving them.” He clenched his jaw and furrowed his brow.

  She’d seen that expression before whenever he encountered an obstacle. And Gabriel Rose, she knew, always got what he wanted. But she couldn’t worry about herself. It was the boys she had to protect. “The boys,” she whispered.

  “Alex, I’ve found an attorney who can help you, and I’ll give you plenty of money for the boys while they’re living with you.”

  She glared at him. “You really did your homework while I was busy loving you.”

  “Um.” He shook his head.

  She twisted her wedding band. “And, if you leave me—”

  “I’ve already left, and you didn’t even notice.”

  Rage careening through her, she yelled, “Gabe, I’m going to make sure you’ll never see the boys.”

  “You who didn’t even want children.” He glanced over at her as though challenging her to refute that.

  She knew it was true. Terrified she’d be like her mother, a woman capable of harming her own child, she feared having children. For years, Alex hadn’t been able to become pregnant, and she knew it had been due to that fear. Finally, she became pregnant, and the boys had become her life.

  “Alex, I’ll make all the arrangements for—”

  “For my life?” she demanded, certain without him, life as she’d planned would be gone. Nothing would ever be the same.

  He eyed her. “You know what your problem is?”

  “My problem? Since when did you switch from cardiology to psychiatry? Cardiology is more lucrative, and I know that’s important to you.”

  “You never complained about all the money I make.” He glared at her.

  “I contribute too,” she said.

  “How could you even compare your chiropractic whatever to my cardiac practice?” He laughed. “I come home, and all you talk about is your patients’ neck and back pains—hardly anything very serious or interesting.” He shook his head in dismissal. “And then the way you are with the boys, you’re so afraid to leave them for even a day. I was shocked you insisted on this weekend with your supermom schedule.”

  That wounded her to the edge of her soul. She was a devoted, loving mother, and he knew it. He had to know it. Anger careened through her. She couldn’t listen to him belittle her, mock everything she cared for and loved. “Stop the car!” She leaned over and reached for the steering wheel.

  “Alexandra, are you trying to get us killed?” He grabbed her hand and pushed her away.

  “Stop now,” she demanded and started to open her door.

  “Alex, you can’t—” />
  “Gabe, stop or I’ll—”

  He pulled onto the shoulder of the road.

  She opened the door and ran. She kept running, faster and faster, deep into the desert. She ran as though that would make her pain go away. Suddenly, she tripped and fell to the ground, her outstretched leg brushing against a cactus.

  Searing pain radiated from her shin to her ankle. She looked down. There were what appeared to be hundreds of tiny thorns covering her ankle, and two large thorns were deeply embedded. Blood was dripping down onto her shoe. She tried to pull the thorns out, but they were too deep.

  She rolled over, curled into a ball, and sobbed. Then, she thought she heard something rustling in the brush. She looked up. Silhouetted by the sun at his back, Gabe was standing before her.

  “Alex, I’m so sorry,” he said softly and leaned down to her.

  She sat up, put her head on his shoulder, and wept.

  He put his arm around her. “We were too young when we met. Then we had the kids, the house—”

  “I know,” she whispered. “But, weren’t we happy?”

  “For a time,” he said. “Then I needed more, and—”

  “Why?” She pulled away. As she moved, her leg hit the ground and one of the thorns turned. She winced with pain and grabbed her leg.

  Gabe looked down at her ankle. “I’ll take care of it,” he said as though he were still the loving man she’d married.

  He rolled up her pant leg. Gently, he eased the thorns out, one then the other.

  She stared at his surgeon’s hands with their neatly clipped nails as he adeptly relieved her pain. Last night she’d needed to feel those hands hunger for her. But last night seemed a lifetime ago, before the secrets, lies, and, now, chasms.

  As he placed his crisp white handkerchief over her bloody ankle carefully, almost lovingly, she wondered how she could have missed the signs. Gabe was always at the hospital, caring for his patients and working on his invention. Maybe there wasn’t even such a project.

  “Gabe, why’d you wait until now, if you’ve been seeing her?” she asked.

  “Honey,” he said.