Chapter 2

I went to work again, but after two days I took all the leave I had a right to. I avoided asking my boss directly, as seeing him was the main reason I could not function anymore. His secretary told me he didn't mind, but maybe I should not bother to return at all.

I started to reel in a few long standing appointments for interviews at other agencies. I also went looking for a more permanent place to live. It gave me things to do, hours to fill and reasons to get out of bed for.

Empty moments were scarce. It suited me.

I did not want to hear Elaine's voice again or see her face. So I sent her an e-mail. I wrote her I planned to start divorce procedures. "Planned" might be the right word. I had not really done anything to start anything. I just could not get around the very idea of divorcing Elaine. It felt alien. In a way it felt as if I were stooping to a level she and I should never even consider.

Yes, I am a hopeless romantic.

The apartment was small, but relatively clean, newly decorated and close to the new agency. They had told me I was welcome first of next month (be it at a lower salary). It also was rather expensive, but I had no inclination to pay one more penny for our old home. If she could stand to live there, let her pay for it. She earned enough anyway.

I got a constant stream of messages on my cell asking me to return to her. She even added please. She also clogged my laptop with emails containing the same message. I never answered, until, after another week, I got fed up. I let her know she could talk to me one more time. I also told her there was no need to repeat her gibberish about loving me, like last time. She'd better cut the bullshit and come clean with me. I liked that line, it made me feel a bit like Dirty Harry, although I knew she would not make my day ever again. Or night, for that matter.

The restaurant was rather dark and did not have many customers. It might be because of the food, but that wasn't my main concern there and then. I think she had chosen the place just because it was quiet and had a few rather secluded booths. She waited in one of them and waved at me as I entered.

She looked subdued and rather pale. She still wore her business suit, in contrast to my very casual gear. I slid into the booth to sit in front of her. She asked me how I was and I had to laugh at that. She blushed when I did.

"We know we both feel great, Elaine. Now tell me what you drink and I'll get it."

She asked for mineral water. I got a beer for myself.

"So, darling. A hundred messages told me you wanted to talk to me. I am all ears."

She searched for my eyes.

"Please, Eric. No sarcasm."

I took a gulp of my beer.

"Sorry. It is just hard not to, darling. Please tell me how you cheated on me and why."

She stared into her glass. She took a deep breath. Then she looked up.

"I met Jason at a photo-shoot. He is a model. I was impressed by his body and his suave, easygoing way. He is quite witty, actually."

She paused and blushed at that, then mumbled sorry.

"Don't be sorry," I said. "No need for that anymore, if there ever was."

She winced. After a second she went on.

"Well, we ended up in a hotel bar and he got me to go up to his room. There we had... ehm, did..."

"There you let him fuck your brain out and he was amazing, He had incredible stamina, a long thick cock and he made you feel things you never felt before and scream as you never did with me," I added.

A tear formed in the corner of her eye.

"Tears? Please, really, Elaine," I said. " It was just sex, girl. You told me, remember? Great sex, right what the doctor ordered. You can call it by its name, no harm done, darling. At least not anymore. So what happened after?"

She sipped from her glass, maybe to compose herself.

"We met a few times after that."

"A few times? A few times a week, you mean?"

She didn't answer.

"How long did it go on until I spoiled it all?"

"A few weeks," she said.

"A few, a few," I couldn't help but echo.

She looked helpless.

"I really thought it would not mean a thing to our marriage. It didn't for me. I loved you just as much. Did I ever give you the feeling you came in second?" she asked.

"Ever?" I said. "That sounds like a lot longer than a few times or a few weeks, honey."

"Oh, no, no...", she hurried to answer, but her eyes were all over the place.

I grabbed her hand, squeezing it to get her attention.

"I know, Elaine. Don't worry about the delicacy of your lies. I know you have been fucking behind my back for years, two at least. And not just with pretty boy Jason."

She gasped. I went on.

"Elaine, I believe you when you say it did not matter to you where you and I were concerned. I believe that you really saw it that way. You saw no danger for our marriage, you don't even see it now, do you? I truly believe that you never felt different about me. You could curl up in my arms and talk about having my child, knowing that you would let yourself be fucked by my boss at that party the very next day."

Her face turned crimson. I took a gulp of my beer and continued.

"One night, remember? You came home dripping with the sperm of Everett, my best friend. You were right in time to shower and dress for our seventh anniversary party."

I almost felt sorry for her. Almost.

"Elaine," I said. "I believe you. Your love for me never lessened. Your esteem stayed the same, as did your respect. And that was easy, cause it meant exactly NOTHING!!"

My sudden scream made her start. Her glass fell, spraying her lap with water. I handed her my napkin.

After a while I ordered a new glass of water and a beer.

"Well," I said. "That being out of the way, what exactly did you want to tell me, Elaine? That you wish for me to come home, or at least to the place where you live? That we should get over it, so you can find new models, bosses and best friends to fuck?"

"Eric," she said and started to sob.

"Be honest, girl. My God, for once be honest with me."

"Eric, please. I can't help it. There is this, this great, deep love for you. It is true, Eric, I love you deeply... always have."

I gave no reaction at all. My finger ran around the rim of my glass.

"And then there is this, this thing with my body..."

She paused, looking away embarrassed.

"It needs, Eric. My body needs raw, hard sex and lots of it. The more sex I get, the more I need."

There was a sudden fire in her eyes, like a fever. I groaned, pushing away the glass.

"Elaine. You see... no, I guess you don't. So let me show you the utter bullshit of your words."

I allowed for a short silence, watching her. Then I went on.

"Darling, I sometimes have this need too, you know. The need to punch a damn client on his fat asshole nose. Or I sometimes have this urge to get out of my car and smash the face of the man who almost drove into me. I sometimes want to kill someone, lately even someone I thought I loved..."

She started. I continued.

"But you see, Elaine: I did not and I don't. Needs can be suppressed, honey, urges can be overruled. It is called restraint, civilization, decency... love..."

Her eyes now begged. Her head sunk between her shoulders. She looked so much younger, a child. Her voice rose into a whining.

"But I tried, honey! I really fought so hard, but there is no use. You asked if I had turned crazy when I told you that it was exactly for saving our love that I needed this... this hard sex on the side. It is true! It keeps me sane, honey. It saves my balance, it lets me be the caring, loving wife you deserve. I need you, Eric. I need your love and I need to love you. Please don't take that away from me. I'll die, honey. I'll die!"

I gaped at her as if at a rare specimen in a zoo. I had lived for nine years with this woman and knew nothing about her.

"Elaine... after nine years you tell me this. After a year of dating and eight years of marriage. Eight years of being together in the closest way two people can. You fought, you say. And never, ever did you ask me to fight with you, to help you. To use our love to shield you. All that time you never even hinted at it."

"I was ashamed," she muttered, looking away.

A cloud of hot denseness closed around my head and my field of vision. I looked at her until my eyes strained. Around her shone a halo, blotting out all of the background.

I must have fallen off my chair. My head hurt. There was something soft under it. A pillow? A hand? Two eyes were hovering over mine, soft hair caressing my face.

"You fainted," a voice said. "Are you all right?"

It was Elaine. Behind her I saw a waitress. Reality returned to me. I drank from the water she offered.

I thanked her. Then I pushed her away to get to my feet.

"Sorry for that," I muttered. "I have to leave."

She grabbed my arm, pulled herself against me.

"Don't Eric. Don't leave me. I can't be in that awfully empty house alone. Can't be there without you. I just can't."

I shrugged and tried to get her off me.

"Then fill it, whore," I hissed. "Pack it with all the meat you need. Send a few emails, place a few calls and you'll never fuck alone, honey."

She looked as if I had struck her face. Her mouth hung open.

I pushed her away.

"Let me know when you lack supply, Elaine. I might know a few guys. Should I first ask for size?"

Ah, God, how I hated myself watching her run off and leave the restaurant. I stared at my dead beer.

The phone call came in the night. It woke me from the deep well of a booze-induced sleep. It was Cynthia, Elaine's best friend.

"Eric?"

I groaned something that might have sounded like a yes.

"Elaine is in hospital. She has cut her wrists, but she made a mess of it. She'll be all right. She asked for you."

Damn, that woke me.

"Oh, God, no!" I croaked and got out of bed.

"Where is she?"

She told me and I slipped on some clothes. Ten minutes later I walked down a coldly lit, sterile corridor.

She looked awfully small and white as paper. There were drips and tubes. And there was the sick and hostile smell of hospitals. Cynthia was there too. She hugged me. She is a petite brunette with just enough overweight to disarm the sting of wickedness in her eyes.

I sat next to the bed, watching Elaine's closed eyes. There was a blueish shadow around them. She looked like someone I had never seen. Vulnerable, distant.

Then her eyes opened. A smile came to her pale lips.

"Eric," she whispered. "You are here."

I could not help but caress her cheek. She pushed her face into it like a kitten. I knew why she smiled. I knew why she had put the blade to her wrists. It weighed on me like lead.

"Shhhh," I said. "Don't talk. Get better."

I rose.