And Then There Were Three (2 page)

It took me several days to get up the nerve
to confront and reveal to Mark what was going on with me. It did
not go well initially. We yelled and argued blaming each other for
my almost affair. I asked him about the gym bag and he admitted his
almost affair with an intern. I was crushed by his admission and
tried to rid myself of my internal hypocrite. I listened to his
words of apology. In the end we both cried like babies and pled for
the survival of our relationship. I enjoyed the wonderful
lovemaking that occurred as we renewed our love and our
relationship. It, however, was short-lived, as we no longer trusted
each other. I would see him coming out of my home office knowing
that he had checked the history on my computer. I, in turn, would
scour his truck to see if he was stashing clothes. We called each
other constantly, trying our best to reassure the other. It became
more strenuous then before the admissions. Mark and I sat down one
evening after the kids were off to bed to revisit our faux pas.

“We can’t keep living like this,” he said
first. I nodded my head in agreement not sure how we could rebuild
that trust again.

“I think we have to bury the almost affairs
or we will end up ruining this,” I suggested.

“I think you’re right E. We have to trust
each other again or this goes nowhere fast.” Mark took my hand in
his as the first of my tears fell. I loved him so much and the
thought of him being with another woman brought me to my emotional
knees. I could see he struggled with the same feelings in regards
to me with another man. That night we made up our mines to put the
almost affairs far behind us. We would trust each other and leave
the spy work to the real spies. And just like that we were back to
our previous bliss. My depression was lifted, courtesy of Andre,
and my marriage was back on track. That was courtesy of trust. I
think back on that and it was a bad time that had wonderful
consequences. We both learned how much our marriage meant. We both
learned that we could forgive and love so passionately still. Every
since that day I have trusted my husband implicitly. I have never
had a moment occur in our years since that day that would shake my
faith in him. Now faith in me would be another story.

The Introduction

Sabrina, my oldest daughter, was heavily
involved in extracurricular activities. She played the piano, was a
cheerleader at school, and a dancer. After her teacher, Mrs.
Woodruff, decided to take a job with a traveling dance troupe, we
were in desperate need of a new studio. Precious Moves Studio came
highly recommended from one of my husband’s colleagues. Sabrina and
I decided to give the studio a chance. Sabrina’s first day at the
studio coincided with the release of my fifth novel. I was
preoccupied with talking to my editor, trying desperately to
convince her that making a public appearance was a bad idea. I was
a great mystery to my small legion of fans and it sold more books
that way.

I was engaged in a heated discussion when
Nicole Fischer, the dance instructor introduced herself to me. I
shook her hand, said all the pleasantries I could muster before
returning to my discussion via Bluetooth technology. I gave my
daughter a hug and informed her I would be back in an hour to pick
her up. I hardly glanced in Nicole’s direction as I swept out the
studio in search of a Starbucks. My patience was not restored an
hour later as I leaned on my horn for Sabrina to leave the studio.
I sent her a quick text message to indicate my urgency. I had to
send an email that was only possible from my home computer. It
would be three trips later that I would finally give my attention
to Sabrina’s new dance teacher.

“I am so sorry Miss Nicole for not properly
introducing myself. I am a writer and I…” I trailed off as I took
in the new dance teacher. To say Miss Nicole was beautiful was the
understatement of the year, or decade. There could have been very
little doubt as she grew up as to her profession. The long elegant
legs were by design those of a dancer. We were almost the same
height but she had me by a few inches. Smooth, delicate, lightly
tanned skin covered her petite frame. It was her face that drew you
in. The gentle curve of her mouth and plump lips would have invited
the most heterosexual female to sample them. It appeared as if she
was wearing a soft red lipstick but it was the natural color of her
lips. With zero make-up on this woman was absolutely stunning. Her
long brown hair was swept up into a ponytail. The escape of a few
strands of hair did not give her an unkempt look, quite the
opposite. It made her look even more gorgeous. I stuttered a bit as
I tried to regain my composure.

“I am sorry for my hasty departure these last
few visits. I am generally very involved with Sabrina’s dance
instruction,” I said trying to recover my composure. Never had a
woman ever struck me as attractive. I do not mean that I am catty
with women I do not know. It’s just I can appreciate a beautifully
dressed woman, albeit from afar. I have never considered a woman
gorgeous to me in this way. I felt my mind race around its short
track as I continued to struggle with this woman’s appearance.

“It’s fine I totally understand how busy
parents can get. I do not take it personal,” she smiled at me. “It
is nice to finally meet you.”

I had to internally slap myself because I
actually swooned. Thank God it was just a mild swoon but it was
swooning nonetheless. I once again regained control of my faculties
enough to inquire about the course of study for Sabrina. Another
small prayer went up to the man above as Sabrina was warming up.
She was none the wiser about my little instant crush on her
teacher. I supposed that male or female, anyone who dared enter
this studio found Miss Nicole to be a ravishing creature. The
damage this meeting was causing to my heterosexual psyche was
worthy of electro-shock therapy. This was nothing that Dr. Phil
could work out. Once Miss Nicole excused herself to you know teach
the class, I gave myself the scolding of a lifetime. Immediately
panic began to engulf me as I thought about those days when Mark
would need to bring Sabrina to dance class. In my mind my entire
marriage was over as Miss Nicole and Mark drove away to live
happily ever after. I shook my head, much like an Etch-A-Sketch, to
rid myself of those thoughts. Mark and I had a wonderful
relationship and he may harbor some secret fantasy women in his
spank bank but I never felt threatened, until perhaps now.

I left before Miss Nicole could do any fancy
dance moves that would leave me wanting to find the nearest plaid
shirt store. While I was away I tried to throw myself into
revisions from my editor for a press release. It worked and soon
Miss Nicole was a faded memory as I corrected the corrections.

“Hey mom, is everything okay?” Sabrina asked
into her cell phone. I had totally misjudged the time and botched
my daughter’s pick up.

“Oh my goodness Sabrina, I am so sorry. I am
on my way,” I apologized leaping to my feet. Quickly, I saved my
work and beat a hasty retreat from the nearby Starbucks. I was more
grateful than I can explain when I pulled up to the studio and
Sabrina was waiting outside. I could see Miss Nicole hovering
nearby so I didn’t take offense that she had put her outside.

“I am so sorry Brina,” I apologized once
more. Sabrina took no notice of my tardiness and began feverishly
texting her friends. I dismissed the entire episode looking forward
to some downtime with my husband later. Wednesdays were the kid’s
high activity days that included: music lessons, dance, football
practice for Junior, and soccer for Celeste. Mark and I made every
attempt to wrap up work early on Wednesdays so that we could
participate in their activities. Mark handled sports, since I was
kind of banned when I ran onto the football field after watching my
son get sacked by four boys. I handled the music lessons after Mark
fell asleep at Mr. Jacob’s house, snoring so loudly that he threw
the kids off key. I went home that day with a clear mind and
conscience but feeling a bit more randy.

Once dinner was served, the kids were done
with homework, and comfortably watching a movie in the family room
I pulled my husband up to our master bedroom.

“Ooh E, what has gotten into you?” He asked
as I freed him greedily from his slacks. “Never mind sweetheart you
do not have to answer that.”

I gladly dropped to my knees taking every
inch of my husband into my mouth. He moaned his appreciation for my
skills as I continued to greedily have my way with him. I knew that
he would eventually pull me away and take me aggressively. When he
did so I was ready to explode into a million pieces. It was so
intense I found my legs shaking so violently I could barely stand
as he took me up against the wall of our bedroom. The slip of his
hand around my neck with some moderate pressure was my complete
undoing. It served to be his as well. Mark noisily followed as his
own orgasm ripped through him. We collapsed in a heap onto our
carpeted bedroom floor. I was so content that I started to fall
asleep almost immediately. Thankfully my husband managed to get me
to the bed where I slept soundly for several hours. I awoke in the
night to ravish him once more before finally settling into REM
sleep.

Because of our trust pack made many years
ago, he never questioned my extreme horniness. I was grateful, as I
had no plausible explanation. I was not into women period. I was
under the philosophy that if I was gay, I wasn’t even going to tell
myself. Surely I was just lusting for my husband and it manifested
when I saw a beautiful woman. I can appreciate beautiful women
without being considered gay, right? It didn’t matter the emotion
had passed. I was back to myself the next time I laid eyes on Miss
Nicole. I gratefully did not stutter or loose my train of thought.
Her ethereal beauty was jarring but I maintained my composure. We
even had a semi decent conversation about what I actually cannot
recall. After a month of this back and forth, which ended with me
going home, to rip the clothes off my husband, I finally had a
breakdown.

“Mark sweetheart can I talk to you for a
minute,” I asked as he watched a football game one Sunday.
Initially he thought it would be a conversation that could take
place during the game but when he saw the look of panic on my face
he cut the television off.

“What’s the matter Eva? Is everything okay
with the kids? With you?” He asked in rapid succession with a look
of worry permeating his handsome features.

“The kids are fine. I am having this weird
internal struggle. I do not even know how to say this.” I paused to
gather my words carefully.

“You want a divorce.” His voice was almost
three octaves higher than normal when he spoke. I vehemently shook
my head as I continued to work up the courage to say what was
troubling me. The look of relaxation on my husband’s face almost
shut down the conversation.

“I am having an issue with Sabrina’s dance
teacher, Miss Nicole,” I said softly.

“Ok do we need to find Sabrina a new dance
teacher?” He asked as his body settled down to his previous relaxed
state.

“Um no she is a great teacher. I am having a
very odd reaction to her.” I explained as I wrung my hands out. I
just didn’t know how to explain how I was feeling.

“Did she say something untoward?” I could see
he was fighting hard not to laugh considering I was serious. I
couldn’t fight my emotions anymore as the tears began to flow
freely. “Eva, please tell me what’s bothering you sweetheart?”

“Miss Nicole is beautiful and I think I am
attracted to her.” I finally said as I waited for his reaction.
Mark gave a slight laugh that made me feel even worse. I started to
get up and just deal with this on my own but he held on to my
hand.

“Eva, you scared me half to death. It’s okay
if you think a woman is beautiful. It doesn’t mean that you are
gay. It just means you appreciate real beauty.”

“It’s deeper than just her beauty. I enjoy
talking to her and I am really battling how she makes me feel Mark.
This is serious to me and I am very conflicted.”

“What is it that you want to do about these
feelings?” Mark’s voice took on a more serious tone as he
considered the possibility of me touching anyone else, even a
woman. I could see his nostrils flaring which is a definitive sign
that he is upset.

“I don’t know what I want to do. I just know
that I like being in her company. I like talking to her. She talks
with her hands and has brushed against me a few times. My body
reacted to her touch in a way that is completely foreign to me. I
have tried looking at other beautiful women to see if I would get
the same reaction. Nada. Nothing!”

“So this one particular woman has you turned
on?” He questioned as the light of understanding reached his eyes.
I lowered my eyes as an indication in the affirmative. I could see
full on flaring as I dropped my head in my hands. Even if it was
the fantasy of other men, Mark never wanted to see me with another
woman. This was something left to his imagination. In reality he
never wanted to see me perform with another woman. I belonged to
him now and forever.

“What the fuck do you mean? So the last few
times where you just had to have me was because some woman got you
hot and bothered?” Mark’s voice was a full on shout.

“I am sorry Mark. I wanted you and not her.
She, I just don’t know…” I trailed off.

“Are you saying you’re gay now Eva?” His
voice was steel lead. I shook my head vehemently again.

“You just said that didn’t make me gay. Now
you are saying it does. I wasn’t thinking about her when we were
making love. I have only ever wanted you since the day we met Mark.
You have to know this.” Mark pulled me into his arms and I felt his
anger begin to subside as I heaved sobs into his shirt. I kept
apologizing for feeling the way I did and wishing I could take it
all back.