“Yes? Hi, Jeff!” She bites her lower lip while speaking into the phone with obvious excitement. “I’ll be there tomorrow. I’m not sure I can get away today.” Silence. “No, I don’t wanthim to know yet until we’re sure.” I feel my jaw clenching hard together. “Yes.” Her voice softens. “Thank you. You have no idea how much it means to me. I’ll come to you tomorrow. I also have a surprise for you.”
Yep, you have it, alright. Surprise you got for him with our marital money I suppose.
My anger flares up once again, and I take another sip in hopes it will calm me down a little. It doesn’t. It only makes it worse. The burning liquid sliding down my throat only fuels this rage inside even more.
She walks to the kitchen and pours water from the sink. She drinks it greedily, her neck moving with quick, deep swallows. When I think about what else this neck might have been swallowing today, I slam my glass on the table, making her jump.
She presses her hand to her chest. “Jeez, I didn’t see you there.”
I keep silent.
“You scared me,” she giggles, pouring herself another glass and placing it on the table.
“Who were you talking to on the phone?” My voice is coarse. I’m trying to contain the anger I’m feeling. And the closer she comes, the madder I get.
Her eyes dart to the side before returning to me. “An old friend.”
“A friend?”
“Yes.”
“I see.”
“What do you see?” Her brows draw together as her steps falter. “Ezra, you sound weird.” She tilts her head a little to the side. “And you look weird. What happened?”
“Come here.” I gesture for her to come to me with just the fingers of the hand resting on my thigh.
She starts moving toward me. Reluctantly at first, and then more willingly.
“Are you okay?” she asks in a soft voice. Like nothing is happening. Like she’s not setting up a date with another man while she’s playing house with me.
“Here, Maeve.” I put more pressure into my voice while keeping it low.
Her eyes widen while her little, poisonous tongue peeks out to lick her luscious lips. She likes it. She likes being ordered around.
Her bare feet pad until she steps right in front of me. Her knees almost touching mine.
“You look sad,” she whispers.
“I’m not sad, Maeve.”
“What is it then?” Her voice is small.Is that guilt?
“I’m angry, Maeve.”
“Why?” She watches me with her big, blue eyes, pretending to be innocent.
“Why do you think?”
She shrugs. “To be fair, you have a lot to be angry about. Including me.”
“That’s true, wife.” I say the word mockingly, and she notices. Her forehead wrinkles, and she wants to ask something.
But I’m done talking.
I grab her hand, pulling her onto me. She lands on my lap with awoof.
“What are you doing?” she exhales.
