I’ve been a mess inside for a month now, but after seeing her again today, my agitation is starting to show on the outside. My mom asked me twice why I’m not paying attention to what I’m doing. Dana had to lightly smack my cheek to snap me out of my zone so I could listen to her story. And I can’t remember one thing I said to Fran since I walked in the front door.
Dropping my head, I breathe out again as my fingers curl tighter over the edge of the vanity.
“Are you okay?” Fran asks from behind me.
I feel her skin on mine as she kisses my bare shoulder, and it only elevates my level of guilt. I’m such a dick. Francesca is an amazing woman, and she deserves better. I may not have cheated physically, but I came so close, and now I’m keeping it a secret. It’s not okay. And cheating isn’t just a physical thing. If she knew the thoughts going through my head...
When I’m able to overcome my disgust and face my reflection, I lift my head to meet her eyes in the mirror. “I’m fine, Franny.”
“Are you sure? You’ve been offish lately.” She keeps her worried gaze on me when I don’t answer. “Can I talk to you about something?”
“Yeah, of course. You know you can talk to me about anything.”
I shift slightly and lift her to sit on the vanity in front of me. She quickly covers up her naked body with her silk robe because she’s uncomfortable, and that makes me feel like more of a dick.
“Something isn’t right with you. Like, earlier when we were...” She can’t say making love because that wasn’t what it was. “It’s just...you kissed me differently, and the way you touched me was...abrasive. You...you got a little rough...very rough. You’re not usually like that.”
My eyes drop to the floor because I can’t look at her without feeling ashamed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that...I was just...”
...distracted.
....preoccupied.
...wishing you were someone else.
I shut my eyes, cringing at my own thoughts. “I’m sorry,” I whisper, slipping my arms around her waist. “Franny, I’m so sorry.”
I drop my head onto her shoulder, and she holds me close, stroking my hair. I want to find comfort in the embrace of my wife, but I just can’t. The guilt is overwhelming, and I feel like I’m drowning in it.
“I’m sorry,” I say again.
“It’s okay,” she says because she doesn’t understand the depth of my apology. She doesn’t know what I’m really apologizing for.
I’m apologizing for hiding my little rendezvous with Isabella for almost a month. Another woman has been my primary focus for that month, and that deserves an apology too. But mainly, I’m apologizing because I was so desperately yearning for someone else that Iusedmy wife to get off. I gripped her thighs as if they were thick enough to take that kind of abuse. I kissed her lips as if they were plump enough to withstand that kind of ferocity. I had sex with her as if she were Bella and came out of it even more frustrated...because she’s not.
Bile rises in my throat as I think about it. I am so repulsed by my actions that I’m literally on the verge of throwing up. Fran is not just my wife. She’s my best friend, and I can’t believe I would fucking do that to her.
“I’m all for trying new things,” she says, pulling me out of my self-inflicted torment. “But let’s at least talk about it first, discuss what we want to do, and establish some boundaries. Is that okay with you?”
I’ve been with Fran for four years, and I’ve never been unsatisfied with our sex life. Not once have I ever compared her to Isabella because they’re both beautiful and unique in their own way. But I must be in some messed up headspace because today my mind makes a link to how different they are, how incomparable they truly are. There are a lot of things Fran refuses to do in the bedroom because it makes her feel dirty or uncomfortable. She’s reluctant to explore or try new things, and it never bothered me before because I respect her sexual boundaries. But today I feel the walls of those boundaries. I feel the confinement. I feel...trapped.
It's not even a bedroom thing or me wanting to get out of my marriage. It’s just now that I’ve drawn the comparison, I can see that being with a free-spirited, adventurous person like Isabella makes the contrast of Fran seem almost...suppressive. This isn’t a flaw of Fran’s, though. I went into this knowing exactly the type of person she was and loving her for being that person. Whatever the hell is going on in my head, I need to reverse it and refocus on what’s really important to me.
“Yeah, I’m okay with that,” I respond softly. “Of course, it’s okay. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“It’s fine. Really. I just wasn’t...prepared.” She smiles and hugs me tight. “Are you ready to come to bed?”
“Not yet. I think I’m just going to watch a movie to unwind, and I’ll come to bed later.”
“Don’t stay up too late. These weird sleeping patterns of yours are becoming a habit.” She gives me a quick kiss and hops off the vanity. “Oh, and in case you didn’t notice, the pipe under the sink is leaking again.”
Hearing that only adds to my annoyance, because this will be the third time we’re getting someone in to fix it. “I’ll call the plumber tomorrow.”
“Okay. I’m going to head to bed. I have an early appointment tomorrow morning.” She stops just outside the bathroom. “Speaking about appointments, don’t forget we have one at the fertility clinic tomorrow at two p.m.”
I groan before turning to face her. “Fran, we talked about this, and I told you that after what happened to Dana, I don’t know if I even wanna have kids. Imagine we have a girl. Do you know what that would do to me? I would lose my mind worrying about her all the time. And if I eventually reach a point when I’m mentally ready to handle that kind of responsibility, it should be natural. Why do you keep insisting on this fertility clinic?”
“My cousin, Tamara, was trying to have kids for two years. When she went for scans, they found cysts on her ovaries, and she fell pregnant a month after she had them removed. I just want to be proactive. Let’s both get ourselves checked out, so if there are any issues, we can deal with them now. That way, if or when we decide to have kids, those issues are already sorted out, and we don’t wastetwo yearsbefore we figure out what’s wrong. Let’s plan properly, so the process goes as smoothly as possible.”