Now She's Gone: A Novel (14 page)

I stopped myself and took a breath before I could completely tear the room apart. I know I was a hypocrite and I know she only fucked him to get back at me, but it ate me up inside. I felt betrayed, infuriated. I knew I was going to lose it.

So, I left the house, got in my car and went to a bar, having every intention of picking up a hot woman and taking her back to a hotel when I realized what I was doing. No. I wasn’t succumbing to this.

I went back home, taped the journal back together and started reading again.

“I almost let the cat out of the bag once. I went home one day right after a Peter session and to my utter astonishment, Bruce was working on his computer in his office.

I didn’t even hear him. I went by the door and glanced in, kept walking, stopped, backtracked and said, ‘You’re home?’

He didn’t even glance up. ‘Yeah.’

I felt so bad. He was such a hard worker and I was cheating on him. Guilt began to eat at me and I just felt so bad, like such a bad, bad person. What was I doing? Why was I doing this? He didn’t deserve this. I was bad, that’s all. And I needed to rectify the situation. I’d end it with Peter, I would. It would be for the best.

‘What are you doing?’ I asked sweetly, hoping for a smile or for him to at least recognize my existence.

He didn’t even glance up. ‘Working.’

I almost burst into tears. He was so indifferent to me. It was as if I really didn’t exist in any realm other than to pick up things for him and to be there when he needed me. He didn’t seem to notice me anymore and that killed me. That’s when I realized Peter was just a revenge fuck. I was fucking him to get back at Bruce. It wasn’t right but it was the only thing I could do then. But it ate at me, making me feel bad. What could I do?

He glanced up at me. ‘Is there something wrong?’

‘No, I just got done working out and am really fucked.’

‘Fucked?’

‘I mean, tired. I mean…’ He wasn’t paying attention. He was back at work. I mumbled, ‘Nothing.’

He called, ‘Did you pick up my suit from the cleaners?’

No, I hadn’t. Without answering, I turned and walked away.

As I walked away, he called, ‘Well, did you?’

I didn’t bother responding. Later on, I told Peter about all this.

He said, ‘What an asshole.’

‘I know! He thinks because I don’t work that I can just jaunt off on every little errand. And, the fact is, I don’t mind, but he could do something for himself sometimes! I mean, I’m not his secretary!’

I paused and thought about that. Was he fucking his secretary?”

No. I never did that. Given the fact that she was as old as my mother, and that her grandchildren stopped by to see her all the time, might have been the reason.

“Peter asked, ‘Is he working this weekend?’

I said, ‘Yup.’

‘We on?’

‘We on.’ I leaned over and kissed him. ‘You know what else pisses me off about him?’

He was all ears. I loved that. But then I felt a surge of guilt. So, I changed my mind and decided to change the subject. We’d talked enough about my marital problems.

‘Nothing,’ I said and snuggled up against him. ‘Talk to me about you. I always talk.’

He shrugged. ‘Not much to say, baby.’

I cracked up. ‘That’s what I like about you, Peter. You’re so uncomplicated.’

‘Is that an insult?’

‘You know it isn’t. I mean, you take life as it is and you don’t fuck with it. I like that.’

He smiled at me. He had such a nice smile.

I grinned and lay down beside him. He moved his hand along my naked hip and then under the sheet, which was covering me. His hand went lower and it settled between my legs and began to play with me. I moaned.

‘That feel good, baby?’

‘Better than good. Oh, right there…Ohhhhhh…’ I moved against his hand and came right then and there. It felt so good. When I was done, I pulled him on top of me and fucked him. He stared at me, taking me in with his eyes. I always felt so at ease with Peter. He always made me feel so good about everything.

But he wasn’t Bruce and I wanted Bruce. I missed him so much.”

Like hell she did.

My Depraved Life

“Howdy!

Kelsey called earlier. She has gotten a job with another airline and they’re transferring her to Miami. Lucky girl. She told me she’s going to rent this little beach house and that I should visit. I’m considering it.

Anyway, back to my depraved life.

The affair with Peter went on a little longer than I anticipated. I should have broken it off sooner, but something in me really enjoyed being the bad girl. Maybe I enjoyed playing both Peter and my husband at the same time. I loved being mischievous. I hate to admit that but I did. I enjoyed the fact that I was a woman and was allowed, to a certain extent, to play them like that.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I threw the journal across the room and ran up the stairs. Her clothes were still in a pile. I grabbed a pair of her jeans and started to rip them apart. Then I remembered the last time she’d worn them. We were out shopping and she bent over to pick something up off the bottom shelf and paused to look at the label on a can of green beans or something. Her ass looked so good that I had to take her home and fuck her silly.

“What’s gotten into you?” she laughed after we were done.

“Your ass,” I said. “I love your ass.”

She threw her head back and roared with laughter.

I stared at the clothes now then looked away towards the bathroom. I could see her standing there, putting on her moisturizer in the morning. Her head wrapped in a towel. She would glance over at me, still in bed, and smile, and then go back to her reflection.

She was a bit of a narcissist.

God, I wished she was in there. I’d get up and go to her, drop to my knees and hug her waist. I’d press my face in her belly and breathe in her smell. She always smelled so good, so fresh like she had just taken a bath. She smelled like home. She’d run her hands through my hair and ask me if there was anything wrong. I’d say no and we’d stand like that for a long time until she moved away from me to do something else.

I climbed in bed and grabbed her pillow and held it to my chest. I ached for her. I wished it would go away, but then again, if it did, I knew I’d really be alone.

I fell asleep and dreamed of her. She was in the kitchen, dressed in a short, black slip that clung to her every curve. She was frying chicken. I came in, loosened my tie.

She smiled over at me. “Hey, boopie.”

I didn’t respond. I walked over behind her, pulled her head back and began to suck on her neck. She moaned and her hands came up to play in my hair. She pulled me closer. I bent and pulled the slip up and ran my hand along her wet cunt. She moaned and widened her stance.

I turned her around and kissed her almost violently. She responded by gasping and ripped my shirt off. Buttons flew everywhere. I ripped the slip from her body and she stood before me naked, standing in four inch heels. She stared back at me and nodded.

I grabbed her and threw her down on the table. Pots and pans went everywhere. I ate her pussy until she came, grabbing onto my hair and pulling some of it out. Then I mounted her and fucked her as she laid there gasping and coming with a very verbal orgasm.

“Oh, yes, baby, don’t stoooooppppp!”

I didn’t stop until I came. When I pulled away, I stood, zipped my pants and started out of the room.

“Supper’s almost ready!” she called.

I ignored her and started out of the house. I got to the door just as the phone rang.

I woke with a start. I glanced over at the phone. It stopped ringing just as I reached for it. The number came up “unknown” on the caller ID.

Savannah

“Peter and I made plans to go away to Savannah for a weekend. I told Bruce I was going down there with Elise for some festival. I don’t even know if they have festivals in Savannah. But it sounded good.

I ran down the stairs with my overnight bag, remembered that I had forgotten my make-up bag, ran back upstairs, retrieved it and when I got back downstairs, Bruce was standing next to my bag, staring at it. It was Saturday morning.

‘Did I miss something?’ he asked.

‘Don’t you always?’

‘Where are you going?’

‘With Elise. To Savannah? I told you.’

‘You did?’

‘I did. Two weeks ago. Oh! That’s right! The building was having plumbing problems. Yeah, I understand how you could have forgotten.’

I gave him a little glare, crossed my arms and just hoped he’d have the nerve to tell me not to go. He didn’t. He dropped his head and looked really sad. And that made me feel…really bad.

‘I’m free this weekend,’ he said hopefully.

‘You’re free now. In an hour, you’ll get a call. Remember, you’re overscheduled and anything could happen.’

He’d said those very words to me a week earlier when I asked him to go to the lake with me so we could spend an afternoon swimming. I went alone.

‘Well, why don’t I go with you?’ he asked pitifully.

I said, ‘It’s a girl thing, Bruce.’

He nodded. ‘Oh.’

I sighed, picked up the bag and started out. Damn it! I turned to him and said ‘Listen, I’m sorry. If you want to come, you can come. I’ll tell Elise—’

‘No, no, you’ve already got it planned. I don’t want to be a third wheel.’

“How about a fifth wheel?’

‘I was thinking of bicycles, not cars.’

Damn it. I was feeling so guilty. I said, ‘Well...why don’t you come on?’ knowing full well he wouldn’t.

He shook his head. ‘Nah. You have a good trip, baby.’

He leaned over and kissed my cheek. I smiled at him and started out the door.

He yelled, ‘Hey!’

‘What?’

‘I love you,’ he said, shaking his head.

Anxiety washed all over me. Oh, shit, I what the hell was I doing? I started to say something but then he turned to leave and something stopped me. ‘I love you, too.’ I grabbed his hand and tiptoed to kiss his cheek. ‘I want you back soon, Bruce. And I mean soon.’

‘You’ll have me.’

‘I better.’”

I had watched her leave and then got an idea. I was almost out the door to tell her to wait and that I wanted to go when the phone rang.

I never would have th
ought
she was going off to meet that bastard. God, what a fool I’d been. I was so pissed off I could have exploded.

It never even entered my mind that she was fucking around on me. I was such an idiot. A girl like Sandy always had to beat guys off and I just thought she was mine. And she wasn’t. Never really was. She only belonged to herself.

The fact was it killed me that she meant something to someone else. I couldn’t stand that she had some kind of relationship with that exercise instructor. Maybe a fuck here or there, I could handle. I wouldn’t have
liked
it. It would have pissed me off, but I could have
handled
it. But she had a relationship with him. They wouldn’t have taken a weekend trip together if they hadn’t.

For an entire weekend! A weekend consisted of a lot of time! A lot of fucking time! God only knows what they were doing!

I knew what they were doing.

And, she would go run errands. Or she would say she was running errands and she’d be dressed in a pair of shorts and flip flops and it never occurred to me that she was going off to fuck this guy! She was slick!

She would come back from these “errands” with the shit she was supposed to get. I remembered her coming in with her arms loaded down with stuff. She really knew how to organize her time! She’d come in with her little packages and her twenty dollar shampoos and her nails done and her legs waxed and just grin at me. And, like the good fool I am, I’d grin back, loving the fact that she was mine.

I was such a stupid fuck.

I know she was bored and that’s why people have affairs, but that fact didn’t take the sting out of it. And she was bored with me and that gave her reason to do it. I suppose.

Was she with him? The thought had never occurred to me before now. Had she ran off with him? Was that where she was, shacking up with him? God, if she was, that would really piss me off.

I fumed for a few more minutes before I picked up the journal again.

“Hey,

So this is the way it ended with Peter. He had this nasty little habit of trying to persuade me to leave Bruce. For him, of course. It got to be downright annoying.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. Thank God.

“‘Sandy,’ he said one afternoon. ‘I really think you should leave Bruce.’

I turned and smiled at him, even though this subject was getting old. ‘Is that so?’”

But if she wasn’t with him, where was she? Where could she be? I realized I was no closer to finding her than I had been when I first found these journals.

I would worry about that later. I wanted to see her make this asshole cry. He deserved it. Fucking my wife. Bastard.

“He nodded and smiled back and inched closer to me. I breathed in his smell and for the first time, I realized it couldn’t go on, not like this. I either had to break it off or leave my husband and I knew all along that wasn’t going to happen, so I said, ‘I’m not leaving Bruce.’

He got pissed off. ‘Why not?’

I got up off the bed and started to dress. ‘Peter, I’m going to be honest with you,’ I said, hating myself as I said it. ‘I don’t love you. I do love fucking you, but as far as being in love, no.’

I thought he was going to explode. ‘You…bitch!’”

I stopped reading. If that asshole laid one hand on her, I would hunt him down and rip his balls off.

“I just stood there and felt like so awful. But how else was I going to make him see it wasn’t going to work? I didn’t want to pussyfoot around on the matter. I’d told him from the get-go that all this was to me was a fling. And that I had no intention of leaving my husband.

He didn’t see it that way. I could just tell from the look in his eye.