Slip of the Tongue

I stared at him and I could see it happening, unrolling like a movie in the back of my mind, because I'd gotten those signs once. I suddenly wanted to walk away, but I had to know.

"After a month or so we bumped into each other and she was cool, but okay. It got better from there. Then there was that night they held that the big Advertising Execs of North America conference. There was a cocktail party and dancing. I was there repping the station. She was there and we'd both been drinking. I asked her to dance and I couldn't help getting hard. This time she didn't pull away so I asked her if she wanted to go out for some fresh air."

"We went out into the parking lot, then off the concrete onto the grass, which was uneven. She lost her footing and I caught her, losing my balance -- we'd both been drinking pretty good. We went down in the grass...and it happened."

"It happened?"

"I might have torn her clothes off. She might have torn mine off. All I know is she had her panties off and we were doing it."

"Doing it?"

"Alright, I was on top of her pumping away and she was grabbing my ass and telling me to fuck her harder. Is that good enough for you?"

"Not really."

"It didn't take long. Good thing because 15 minutes later the wife of one of the ad execs and another ad exec who WASN'T her husband almost stumbled over us. Fortunately, we'd put our clothes back on and she was having a smoke. So we had a reason to be out there."

"She was smoking?"

She had smoked when we first married but, after I'd nagged her for a couple of years, I thought she'd kicked the habit. She said she had - another lie!

"Yeah, she said she had pretty much kicked the habit but...she was upset! She was telling me this was a big mistake and we had to forget it ever happened. Right! Usually when women are with me, they don't forget."

He noticed the look I gave him.

"What can I say. I'm tall and good looking, they tell me, and I like fucking. I don't usually get too many complaints. That's just the truth."

"Anyway, after awhile I wouldn't have minded a second round. I figured we'd already done it, but she wasn't having any of it. She stumbled off and I didn't see her again that night."

I tried to remember back - then I did! It was back in August, fucking August - six months ago! She'd had a big meeting and about midnight when I was beginning to worry about her she had called. She'd sounded...strange, like she'd been crying. Then she said she'd just had too much to drink, too much to drive home, so she was going to spend the night. The hotel always kept rooms available for staff for nights like that. I didn't think anything about it.

She'd come home the next night and, looking back, she was oddly subdued - that was the word - subdued. She was loud. She was expressive. She would grab me if I wasn't feeling in the mood and put me in the mood, but she was quiet that next day. Looking back, I even asked her about it and she just said she'd drank so much that she was still feeling the after effects. I didn't push her for sex, being a good, compassionate husband. She was quiet for a couple of days and then she was her old self.

"So?"

"About a week later she called me at the station, saying she wanted to talk, so we met at a Starbucks. She told me we'd made a bad mistake, but that it could never happen again. She loved her husband. I asked her why she'd called me. She told me she wanted to let me know it could never happen again."

He gave me a look that made me want to strangle him.

"When they tell you they wanted to meet to tell you they won't have sex with you, you can bet you're going to fuck them. We made it as far as my car before she went down on me and she was -- great, but you already know that. We drove to a park and it was mid day so it was empty. I put the seat back and she got on top. Shit, she was something else."

I knew then that I shouldn't have met with him. Not only were we going to be divorced, but all my memories of her from the time we'd met until a few nights ago were ruined. It was as if somebody had smeared shit all over them, all over eight years of my life.

I hadn't had any choice though. Until I heard him talk about them being together, and I knew he was being straight, I'd been afraid that I wouldn't have the nerve to go through with it. I'd stare into those big brown eyes, she would cry and swear that she loved me, and I wouldn't be able to stop myself from taking her back. I would try to make myself forget, convince myself we could make it and I'd patch our marriage together somehow, go for counseling, do all those things you do when you don't want to face the fact that a marriage or relationship is dead. But I'd never trust her again, I'd never forgive her. Over time the marriage would rot and sooner or later, whether I pulled the trigger or she did, we'd walk away from each other. It would just happen very slowly and painfully, instead of sharply and quickly.

"How many times did you see her? Where did you guys get together? Did you ever do it in our condo?"

"It started pretty hot and heavy. Once she decided she was in for it, she was in all the way. The first few months we'd meet in parks, once in a while in a little motel somewhere or other where she'd rent the room because no one was likely to know her and I'd sneak in. I couldn't' afford to be recognized. But there were just days when we wanted to spend the whole day together. So we needed a room."

"Why didn't you go to your place -- or ours. Or did you?"

"We couldn't take the risk of going to my place. Too many people know me. And we couldn't go to your place -- because Rox wouldn't have it. I suggested it a couple of times. Your place is pretty transient, most of the people work so you don't have a lot of people peeking out of windows, and it would have been a lot more convenient, but Rox said no! She wouldn't discuss it, your place was off limits."

"Was it just you and her?"

He gave me a surprised look?

"You mean were we going steady? Are you crazy? She's an incredible woman, but I only saw her once a week or every other week at most. I need more than that. I usually hit a couple of new women a week and they're usually one-night stands. Some last longer. Rox lasted longer than anybody I've been with in Jacksonville."

"Did she know?"

He looked at me with a strange look.

"Are you -- do you think we were in love? That I had feelings for her, or her for me?"

"How can you be with somebody that long and not develop feelings for them, or them for you?"

"We were friends. I liked her - I do like her and I loved the sex, but I never expected anything else. Her...I know what you're saying, women can make it messy but she never did. She loved the sex. God did she love it. She's a screamer, but you know that and she did it all. Blowjobs and every position, and anal. She was hesitant but at the end I think she got off more on that than the regular way."

I entertained the thought of strangling him. I had tried anal with Rox one time. One time! She had cried and said she hated it and when I'd suggested it a couple of times over the years she had practically bit my head off for thinking only of myself and not her. But she had done everything with this son of a bitch and, according to him, loved it all.

"The funny thing is, usually when you've fucked a woman's brains out and you're lying there in bed, they want that cuddling, pillow talk crap. She was never that way, neither at the beginning nor the end. She'd suck me dry and pound me nearly unconscious and when we got through, if it was time, she'd just get dressed, kiss me on the cheek like a fucking uncle, and walk out. It ALMOST bothered me, but I realized it was great. I didn't have to worry about her clinging, no nasty phone calls, no jealousy, no talking about leaving her husband and moving with me when I went up. She was the perfect girlfriend."

I sat there and tried to take it all in. No love, no emotional bond. Just hot sex, like that was supposed to make me feel better.

"How long did it last?"

"Until the Literacy Dinner. It really rattled her when she made that slip. She was sure everyone would be talking about it and that you would somehow know and leave her. I told her she was sweating for no reason. It was a joke. Everybody laughed. I found out later it made a blooper reel, but 4 didn't broadcast it. I asked the cameraman to cut it from the tape sent to the station. It was too risqué to ever go out and -- I guess - anyone at 4 that might have known you figured she told you about it or didn't want to upset you.

"Anyway, she told me it was over at the end of the dinner. We spent that Friday night in my suite but, after that dinner, no arguments. I didn't push it. I figured she'd calm down and we'd go back to our routine. By November and December, it wasn't as hot and heavy as in the beginning, but we still got together about once a week if we could. This time, two weeks went by and not a word. Finally she called me and said it was over - she'd gotten a real scare, and this time she meant it, but I talked her into one more time. We went to Atlanta, rented a room and stayed overnight. It was fantastic. We spent the night and the next morning in bed, did everything but, when it was over, it was over. I haven't seen or talked to her since."

That was the weekend she'd had to travel to a tourism seminar in Atlanta. She'd told me she was going to be working all weekend and that she'd see me when she got back. She was beaming and happy that Sunday evening when she came back. And she'd kissed me with a mouth that had probably spent a lot of time around his cock. And we'd made love and I had no idea she had spent the previous 36 hours doing everything and more that we would do. And she'd told me she loved me with a straight face.

I felt like if I'd had anything solid in my stomach it might come up. I drank more hot tea.

He sat back and sipped his cup.

"That's it."

I thought about asking him what more damage he could do to my world. It lay in pieces around me. My marriage was over, as was my sense of myself as a man - the last ten years of my life to all intents, probably my time in Jacksonville. I probably couldn't move up but I could make a lateral move. Openings were always popping up at stations around the country. I might wind up in Podunk, Oregon or New York City, but I could get on somewhere. I'd made a pretty good name for myself.

What I couldn't do was stay here. There were too many places I might run into her, too many places I'd run into the memories we'd made together. It would be alright if I could convince myself that it didn't matter what had happened. She had just been a very good fuck for a very long time.

However it did matter because I still loved her and I realized I might for a long time. I'd lived 32 years of my life before finding that kind of love and I didn't know if I'd ever find it again, but I was going to damn well try. I hadn't realized until I found her how empty my bachelor life was. I'd thought my married friends who went home to wife and kids were insane, until it happened to me. As it turned out we couldn't have kids, but it hadn't mattered, as long as I had her.

Now, I didn't!

"We do have a deal, don't we?"

A note of concern had crept into his voice. Maybe he'd finally listened to himself and realized what he had said.

I wanted, with every ounce of bitterness in me, to hold it over his head, to break my promise and do my absolute ultimate to screw him over and try to spoil his move up the ladder. Or, simply walk outside, sucker punch him and break that fucking perfect nose, but I'd given him my word.

Also really, if he was telling me the truth, he hadn't seduced her. I don't think he could have. She had spent twenty years in the business of arousing men and keeping them at arms length so she could get what she wanted from them. I think she knew all the moves, the approaches. She had given herself to him because she wanted to, so it was on her.

"We have a deal, unless you say one word to her today about our conversation."

"Why-?"

"I'm going to talk to her. After tonight you can do whatever you want because she's going to be on the market again, but if I even SUSPECT you gave her a heads-up, all the guarantees go out the window. I'll do my best to ruin you, and I will for damn sure catch you alone sometime, somewhere, and I won't just break the nose, I'll put you in the hospital for plastic surgery on what's left of your face. You understand me?"

He raised his hand involuntarily to shield his face, his fortune.

"Understood. If she calls, I'm in conference or out on an assignment. I won't say a word to her until and unless I get the go-ahead from you."

He stood up and started to leave, then stopped and said, without turning back, "It was never personal."

"It doesn't get any more personal. Do your best to stay away from me. I'll try, but I can't honestly tell you that if I see you again I might not forget all my promises."

I drove home early. It was only 5 p.m. which meant that I had to fight my way through rush hour traffic, so it was nearly 6 before I walked in the front door. She was standing in the kitchen with a pitcher of Sangria. She made it herself, buying fresh oranges and bananas and strawberries and cutting them up into store-bought Sangria. Hers was immeasurably better.

She glanced at me before pouring into a goblet. She had one of her own she was already sipping at. Her hair was perfectly arranged, flowing down her back in a mass of fire. In better days I couldn't wait to get her on the floor, bury my face in it and run my hands through it.

She wore a tight, low cut dress that showed her breasts tucked into a tight top, dropping to a waist clinging mid-section. I knew when she stepped out her ass would perform a symphony. She had it all - tits, waist, great ass and legs that went all the way down and up to heaven. She knew it and she was loaded for bear.

She stepped into the den carrying the two drinks. I took one and walked over to the couch. She started to sit next to me and I gestured to the love seat nearby. She knew. She knew, then sat down gracefully.

We drank the Sangria. I did love it.

"Are you going to tell me what this is all about?" she asked finally.

"You know."

"I don't."

"Are you going to treat me like a complete idiot? You're going to insult me on top of everything else?"

"I've been going crazy all day trying to figure out what happened between yesterday morning when you said goodbye and you loved me and last night when you walked through the door and you hated me."

"I'd give you credit if you'd at least be honest, Rox."

"I'd be honest if I knew what you were talking about."

She was almost crying.

"Okay," I said, sighing. This was probably the hardest thing I was ever going to have to do in my life. At least the most painful.

"I know about you and Robert Anderson."

She had known it was coming, but it still shook her. Her ruddy complexion paled and she couldn't look me in the eye.

"Me...and Robert Anderson. The...anchorman at Channel 4?"

I started to lose it.

"Oh, for God's sake, you bitch, stop pretending. You know damn well who he is. He's the guy you've been fucking and sucking for six months. He's the guy you spent the weekend with three weeks ago before you came home all smiles and telling me how much you loved me."

I couldn't keep still and sit. I was on my feet and I didn't realize I'd made my hands into fists until she cringed backward with an expression on her face I'd never seen before. Then again, she'd never seen me so close to losing control.

I grabbed her by that glorious mane of auburn hair and squeezed and for the first time in our lives together I didn't care about the pain that flashed across her face.

"He's the man that you threw our marriage away for, Rox. He's the man that killed us. There is no us anymore. I hope he's going to make you happy, or someone else will, because I don't expect to ever see you again after tonight."

"Tommy, don't! Please! You're hurting me! Let go!"

I almost threw her back into the chair. I made myself back away from her, made myself open my fists. I had frightened myself. I hated her, but I'd never forgive myself if I hurt her in a blind rage.

I knelt down beside her and lowered my voice.

"Just be honest with me, Rox. We were married for eight years. I loved you. Don't I deserve some honesty at the end? Just tell me!"

"I don't know what people have told you. It's not true. If you saw the tape, I know it looked bad. But it didn't mean I was having sex with him. I've fantasized about him. He's a gorgeous guy. But other than a kiss on the cheek, he's never touched me, and I don't know who spread lies about that seminar in Atlanta. But I can prove I attended the meetings. I wasn't with Robert.

For a minute I couldn't see her for the tears that filled my eyes. Even now she couldn't be honest. This was how it was going to end. With lies upon lies.

I stood up and backed away from her. I couldn't touch her again.

I took the mini-recorder out of my pocket and hit 'play'.

"When they tell you they wanted to meet to tell you they won't have sex with you, you can bet you're going to fuck them. We made it as far as my car before she went down on me and she was - great, but you already know that. We drove to a park and it was mid day so it was empty. I put the seat back and she got on top. Shit, she was something else."

She looked at me and I saw those brown eyes fill with tears. She looked as though a doctor had given her a death sentence.

"I'm going to go out for a few hours. Don't be here when I come back. I honestly can't promise you that I won't hurt you if I see you again tonight."

I walked out with the sounds of her crying and calling my name behind me.

When I came back she was gone. She'd taken two suitcases and emptied most of her clothes out of her closets. She had taken my threat seriously. Thank God!

I stood in the center of what had been our home and was now the condo I lived in.

I wanted to curl up in a ball in a corner like a little kid and cry, but I made myself go into the guest bedroom, set the alarm for early, take off my clothes and drop onto the bed.

Again, I thought I'd never be able to sleep, but it was as if it offered me an escape and somehow in no time I was asleep.

I woke up on Saturday and, even though I didn't need to, I went into the station. I called a lawyer friend and got the name of a good divorce attorney. About 6 p.m. Bobby called me on my cell and bugged me until I agreed to go by his house and have a drink and a steak grilled outside.

The invitation was for Rox and me. I didn't tell him anything over the phone but when I walked in he and Carol took one look at me and started treating me like I'd just survived a terrible car crash. And maybe I had. There was no point in keeping it a secret. I told them and watched the looks that came over their faces. It was like when a friend tells you that he's got incurable lung cancer.

"Are you sure?" Carol asked.

"Very sure."

"Couldn't you....there is always counseling. You guys were so great together. You can't just let it end like this."

"I didn't! She did, Carol! She killed it and maybe me, for all I know. I need to be tested for STDs. He's such a pig there's no telling what he picked up and passed on to her and her to me. Even if there is nothing, I'm operating on autopilot. I feel like she ripped my heart out and took it with her when she left."

She folded her arms around me and for awhile I just enjoyed the smell and feel a woman holding me.

Later Bobby confessed to a furious Carol that he had been the one who told me about Rox's words that had blown up my world. Carol was about to rip into him when I stopped her.