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It was Susan’s late shift at the hospital–she always worked until 8:30 pm on Wednesdays–so she wasn’t surprised to find that Zach had already put the kids to bed. Irene was six, nearly seven, and Ben was four; their usual bedtime was around 7:30.
But she was surprised to find the table set with the good china, with two of their good wine glasses, and a bottle of the Pinot Noir they usually saved for holidays sitting open.
“Wow, Zach, this looks nice!” she said, giving him a quick kiss.
He smiled. “Go wash your hands, and peek in on the kids if you want, and I’ll serve the dinner.”
When she returned to the table she was still in her scrubs but thoroughly washed, her hair brushed back into a nice ponytail. Their plates were filled with lamb chops, baked potatoes, and asparagus. One of Susan’s favorite meals.
“What’s the occasion?” she asked. “I’m pretty sure it’s not my birthday!”
Zach returned her smile. “No, but I’d like to talk a little after dinner, if you don’t mind.”
This made Susan a little nervous, but only a little. They poured some wine, touched glasses, drank a bit, and enjoyed their meal. Conversation was mostly about Irene and Ben, her day in the ICU, an upcoming contract Zach’s colleagues were working on–he was in the educational software business.
As they cleared the table Susan’s nervousness returned. Asking for “a talk” was not something Zach usually did; and she couldn’t help thinking about her own “talk,” already scheduled (in her mind) for the following night.
Zach had planned this Wednesday night on purpose, of course. It had to be tonight because Susan intended to “talk” to him on Thursday. Zach knew this because he’d been paying attention: checking her texts, noting the changes in her schedule, reading the emails between her and Rob from the hospital’s Development office–on a secret [email protected] account she thought he didn’t know about.
***** *****
Zach had never been a particularly suspicious person. He loved Susan and knew that she loved him. They both adored raising their kids, even with all the lack of sleep, loss of private time, constant mess in the house–everything that comes with being young parents. They snapped at one another occasionally, when someone was over-tired or momentarily frustrated, but there were surprisingly few real fights or long-lasting arguments.
But it had hit him hard to find that her phone’s password had changed. It was about four weeks before the lamb chop dinner. While Susan was taking a shower, Zach idly grabbed her phone to check the weather for the upcoming weekend, and her password didn’t work. It had always been his birthday with the numbers in reverse order; his phone had her birthday. Now that password left him locked out–he tried three times.
The very next morning Zach got some quiet advice from one of his colleagues, and came home with information about keyloggers. Late that night he got up and spent some time with Susan’s laptop.
The next morning Zach took the kids to school as usual–Susan was always gone by 6:30 am except on Wednesdays. But then he called the office, said he’d be in a little late, and returned home to spend some time looking at Susan’s computer.
In addition to all the contacts he knew about, Zach found a “Rob S.” The text thread went back about ten days, and it was mildly flirtatious. Not appallingly so, not overtly sexual–but way beyond anything Zach could have imagined indulging in with someone other than his wife.
By the time of the lamb chop dinner, Zach had a clear picture. Rob had met Susan at the hospital, God knows how, and pursued her. First casually–a couple of “surprise” meetings in the cafeteria, lunches together. And then more seriously.
And, to say the least, Susan hadn’t shut him down. “You were so bad today!” she wrote, adding a smiling wink emoji. “Don’t you know I’m a happily married woman?” That was from about a week ago.
And his immediate answer was, “Even a happily married woman deserves a little fun in her life!” with a smiling purple devil.
“Not the kind of fun YOU have in mind!” with a smile and a zucchini. That was from Susan–at 1:30 the same night. She’d been waiting until Zach fell asleep, then climbing out of bed to email back and forth with Rob. They’d switched over from text messages by then, for no reason that Zach could figure.
Zach decided to bide his time–for a bit. He had absolutely no intention of letting this son-of-a-bitch fuck up his marriage; but he also didn’t want to be a divorced dad seeing his kids a couple of days every month.
The guy hadn’t fucked Susan yet, he knew that. They hadn’t even kissed or made out, judging from the emails. But the plan was for a Friday night sleepover–after Susan gave Zach “the talk” on Thursday.
***** *****
Zach refilled their glasses and brought them into the living room. He handed Susan’s to her and sat down across from her in an armchair. She was on the couch.
“Susan, what’s the absolute worst thing I could do to you?” He said it calmly. No preamble, straight to it. He’d planned it that way.
Then, not letting her reply, and ignoring her shocked look, he went on. “I mean besides something unthinkable, like killing you, or hurting the kids, or robbing a bank. Ridiculous things. Besides that, what would be the worst?”
Zach watched her face–saw the concern, the confusion. The next few minutes would show him who he was married to, he was convinced. Was Susan a selfish monster, or did she have a conscience?
“God, honey, I–I don’t know. I guess…betray me? Abandon me, run off with another woman?” This was the best Susan could come up with. She’d been blindsided by his question, and all too aware of what she and Rob had been planning.
“Okay, I can see that.” Zach was still calm, conversational. “Running off with someone and leaving you behind, that would be pretty awful.
“But what if it were just temporary–just an overnight, say? I tell you I’m going out on a date with someone, maybe a client I’ve met at work. No strings, no commitment, just sex; and then I come back to you, good as new. Would that be as bad?”
Susan burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing. It was no longer possible to pretend, even to herself, that Zach didn’t know about her and Rob, and their plans for that very weekend.
“Well, Susan? I’d like an answer, please.” He still spoke quietly, but Susan could tell how furious he was. She glanced at him and he was practically vibrating with rage.
“Yes, Zach–that would still be bad. It would be horrible; I’d be devastated.” She hiccupped, and wiped her tears off her face with her fingers.
“Tell me, please,” he said. “Why would it be so bad?” He was not going to let her off the hook.
Susan’s head was swimming. She got up and started walking around the room, trying to pull her thoughts together.
She turned back to him, a bleak expression on her face. “Okay, yes–I owe you an honest answer. Just, just give me a minute.”
She went back to the couch and sat down, her eyes on the floor. Zach waited.
“If you had sex with another woman–even once, even a meaningless overnight date, nothing long term–
“It would be the most selfish, unfeeling thing you could do to me. You would be choosing to hurt me in the most personal way, just to have an exciting and pleasurable experience for yourself.
“It would–I don’t know, it would show me that my feelings meant so little to you that…that you could trample on them and still feel okay about yourself.”
Silence. For a full minute at least–that’s a long time. Then Zach spoke again.
“And how could someone who really loved their spouse ever do something like that?”
He waited again, but Susan just sat, hugging herself tightly, afraid to raise her head and look at him. She heard him get up after a minute, and then the sound of the garage door opening and closing; and a minute later his car driving away.
***** *****
Zach drove to the mall, bought a ticket, and watched the latest Marvel superheroes movie. To his surprise he actually enjoyed it. He’d loved the comic books as a kid, and he and Susan never got out to the movies anymore, unless they were taking Irene and Ben to some animated Disney thing.
He didn’t hurry home–he went and got a coffee and a piece of cake, and didn’t pull his car into the garage until after midnight. The house was silent and the lights were off.
In the middle of the kitchen table was Susan’s laptop; she’d left it open. When he touched the screen he saw that she’d left her gmail account open so he could see it. Her entire conversational thread was Rob was there, just as he’d read it before. There was one new message from Susan:
“Rob–I’m done with you. You were a sleazy son-of-a-bitch to try to get me to fuck you, and I was a silly fool to be so easily seduced. My husband knows about it, and for all I know he’ll be coming after you. If he does, you deserve it. Lose my number and don’t talk to me again.”
She’d sent the message around 11:00, then presumably gone to bed. The wine glasses were back in the kitchen, and the bottle was empty.
Zach saw no particular reason to sleep anywhere besides his own bed, especially since Susan was already asleep. He brushed his teeth, got undressed, and was out in minutes.
When he got up in the morning to wake the kids, he smelled bacon; to his surprise, Susan was down in the kitchen in a bathrobe, and he could see pancakes on the stove.
She looked across at him, attempting a smile. She looked pale and terrified. Before he could speak she said, “I called and switched shifts with Betsy. Is there, uh, any chance that you could come back and, um, talk, after you take the kids to school. Or I could take them?”
He nodded, and watched her sigh in relief. The kids were too young to understand that Mommy was home on an unusual day, but they enjoyed the pancakes and thoroughly covered themselves with syrup (especially Ben), necessitating a change of clothes before Susan took them to school.
Zach cleaned up the kitchen and then just sat, enjoying another cup of coffee, purposely trying not to think about anything.
When Susan came into the kitchen she put her keys down and her coat on a chair, then sat across from him. She looked determined.
“Zach, I–
“Well, to say the least I’ve been thinking nonstop about last night, about everything I–everything I did, and what I’d been planning to do.
“I feel like I owe you a better answer to your question from last night, so could I try again?”
Surprised, he just nodded.
“Okay–here goes.” She held his eyes as she began.
“When I married you, I promised to love, honor, and cherish you. One thing that means, at least to me, is that I promised to treat your feelings as being at least as important as mine. We don’t hurt each other, at least not on purpose, and I don’t do something that will hurt you just because I would enjoy it.
“I don’t even know who I was, or what I was becoming, the past few weeks. The blindness, the colossal arrogance and stupidity and selfishness, to think that I could come to you and tell you I was planning to fuck Rob Smyrcka on Friday night, and expect you to just put up with it.
“And I don’t even want to waste a moment blaming Rob, that asshole, because this is on me. I did this–or was about to.”
She hesitated a little, starting to tear up. “How could I have done this, or planned this, if I love you? I haven’t any fucking idea, Zach. But I do love you–more than the day we were married, more than ever. I swear it. So what kind of monster does that make me?”
She broke down into sobs, and Zach, to his surprise, was suddenly quite moved. He moved to the chair next to Susan and pulled her onto his lap, where she lay her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him, weeping.
Again to his surprise, Zach found himself saying, “You know we have a lot of work to do, to try and fix this?”
And before he could go on, before he could talk about counseling, and about better communication, and complete openness and honesty–before all that, Susan was crying even harder, and clutching him desperately, kissing his neck.
He was thinking, “you fucking bitch!”
And also, “maybe this could work.”
ero
