Page 69 of Bad Husband

“Yeah, I know.” Swinging my legs around, I stand up from the bed and set the wine on the nightstand. “Let’s go downstairs and get something to eat. There’s a restaurant down there.”

She heads for the door without looking at me. “Okay.”

The restaurant is nice, elegant I suppose and we’re probably under dressed. Well, I am, wearing gray shorts and a black polo shirt but Madison, she’s always perfect in anything she has on. Tonight she’s wearing a simple white sundress with black and yellow flowers that moves with her body as she walks ahead of me to our table.

There’s music playing and a small yet convenient dance floor to our right. Before we get to the table, I grab Madison by the wrist when I notice the song playing. “Dance with me.”

“Why?” she asks, pressed to my chest now.

I wink at the waiter holding our menu’s and then lead Madison to the dance floor with my hand on the small of her back. “Because there’s music playing.”

Her hands slip gently over my shoulders, lashes fluttering with thoughts. “So?”

“Come on.” I wrap my arms around her waist pulling her closer, no amount of space between our bodies. “You know you want to.”

“Fine.” And then she glares at me, though I can see she’s amused at something. “Since you asked so nicely.”

“When have you ever needed a please when it comes to demands,” I murmur against the shell of her ear, our bodies swaying to “Let It Be Me” by Ray LaMontagne’s. “You’re a dirty girl and you like to be told what to do.”

Madison snorts, slapping the back of my head. “Stop that. Be a gentleman.”

I laugh. “I don’t know how.”

Another snort. “That’s for sure.”

“Hey now, this is me being a gentleman.” I pull back, smiling. “Be nice.”

We’re quiet, moving effortlessly around the dance floor when I notice we’re the only ones dancing in this restaurant. Everyone else is at a table, across from their significant other, candles creating a romantic atmosphere while the lost souls make sense of what they’re actually doing here. I don’t know this for sure but they all seem to have the same weary looks on their faces. Do they even want to be here? They look like they’re being forced into detention, or worse, the ballet.

Some stare at the televisions on the wall in the bar, others at their phones but the thing is, nobody is actuallytalkingto one another. It’s sad. Really fucking sad.

My stare moves to Madison. “Look at these people, Mad.” She does, her tender eyes darting around the room, saddened by what she sees. “They’re not us. There’s love here….” I raise my right hand from her waist, my fingertips brushing over her left breast. “I know I’ve made some mistakes and made you feel alone but I’m asking you not to give up.”

She nods. “I’m here for us to try, Ridley.”

My mouth lowers to her collarbone whispering the words, “Thank you.”

ONCE WE’RE SEATED at a table, I scan the room and see Thomas sitting with two other guys at the bar about thirty feet away. Ordinarily you’d think I would ignore him and look away, right?

The answer would be no. I probably wouldn’t because this is the guy Madison left for me. In my mind, I have to convince him there was a reason as towhyshe did that. May seem like stupid guy logic to you, but it’s my logic. For right now anyways.

Just watch what happens next.

So there we are after our dance, seated in a booth looking over menu’s and I have a clear view of Thomas. Madison’s view is blocked by a plant. I’ll thank this plant later because if you don’t know what I’m about to do, you don’t know me at all.

Madison doesn’t need a lot of romance and likes to live on the edge a little. Don’t believe me? Well for starters, that first night we met at a Halloween party, I fucked her in a bathroom of the house with two people passed out in the shower. She didn’t care and neither did I.

And here’s one more example for you. At our wedding, our first dance was to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller” which I’d like to add I rocked the shit out of.

Anyways, back to my point. Madison doesn’t need a lot of romance and likes adventure. So I have something in mind.

Leaning into her, my left arm wraps around her shoulder, squeezing lightly.

She looks up from her menu at my hand on her shoulder and then my face knowing damn well I’m up to something. “What are you doing?”

I shrug and nod south as I move my right hand on her thigh pushing her dress up. “What does it look like? Take them off.”

“What?” she gasps setting her water down on the table and then begins fidgeting with the edge of her dress trying to pull it back down.

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