Conversations 18

She looked down at her hands at the last question, and I felt ill.

"Seriously?" I whispered. "Threesomes. You, him and Jill. Jesus, you went all out to make all his dreams come true, didn't you."

Somehow that made it feel worse -- as if the betrayal alone wasn't the worst nightmare I could have imagined.

I stared at her. She would look at me for a moment and then look away again.

Anger bubbled inside me. I needed her to understand how I felt.

I rewound the first video and zeroed the timer.

"The last thing I asked you when we spoke, was to give me five more minutes with you online. Just five minutes. You said you were exhausted and had to sleep because of your early start."

"Mike..." she started.

"Shut the fuck up!" I shouted. "I asked for five more minutes. I begged you for 300 seconds. But you had to sleep, remember? You had to sleep!"

I restarted the clip. Our voices hadn't been muted at that stage.

"C'mon honey, five more minutes."

"Can't baby, I'm shattered. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you."

I pressed fast forward play, the video shuttling through the two of them rising and going off-screen to the right, Varney delaying only to drop his trousers and underpants. After a few moments, 34 seconds, according to the screen timer, she appeared again, stripping off her scrubs and underwear before disappearing once more onto the bed.

Only the near corner of the bottom of the bed was visible, and for a minute or two nothing much could be seen. Then that corner began to move very rapidly; small movements that speeded up and made it look as if the visible part was vibrating. Shana's naked leg came into shot, waggling at a rate of knots until it shot off camera once more. After another minute of real time, Varney's naked hairy body appeared, him scratching his arse as he ambled across the camera at a rate of knots. He returned, a long dressing gown decorated in Manchester United colours and logo covering him. Unfortunately he hadn't belted it up, which revealed his cock flaccid and bouncing frantically at speed as he crossed to the bed once more.

Shana appeared next, picking up her panties, disappearing stage left and then returning with two glasses of water, one of which was placed in front of her lap top, obscuring the view slightly.

I let it run, as Shana sniffled, her face covered with her hands. I supposed it was one thing to be confronted by accusations of cheating, but quite another to be made to watch the evidence. I was going to make her watch however.

"Five minutes," I repeated, as the bed began to vibrate once more, and her leg came into view once again, semaphoring frantically. The way it bent, she had to have been on her back. When it disappeared again, I paused the video.

"I begged you for five minutes. You couldn't spare even that much time. But you could happily spare an hour, seven minutes and thirty seven seconds to get two fucks from him."

"So now you know why I don't give two fucks for you. I always saw you as the epitome of the perfect woman, and that's really sad, because now I understand that there aren't any perfect women. To me you were intelligent, beautiful, driven -- someone with more class than anyone I'd ever met. And now I see you're just a slut, and a stupid slut at that; one who couldn't even switch off the computer properly to spare her husband the heartbreak of her lying, cheating ways."

"You don't understand," said Shana.

"What part don't I understand?" I asked, genuinely curious.

"You don't understand what it's like. Every day I get up and go into the hospital, knowing that a lot of the time I'm going in to fight a losing battle against this virus. As a team we fight with everything we have; all the knowledge we possess, all the drugs we have and all the technology we can muster, and still we lose, time after time after time. The stress is incredible. That..."

She wafted a hand towards the screen.

"That was just stress relief," she continued. "Some of the staff would drink to blot out memories. Some would eat continually, and others would lash out. As a doctor, I know those are self-destructive."

"More self-destructive than slutting around and having a cheap affair?"

"It wasn't really an affair," she protested. "There was no emotion involved. It was just a way to allow me to function, a way to get me through another day on the front lines."

"I sympathise."

She looked hopeful.

"Really?"

"No. Of course not! If that was an accepted strategy, the army would have been flying regiments of sluts and whores into Basra every week during the war. The hospitals treating PTSD would have all their nurses naked and slicked up, ready to fall on their backs at a moment's notice. Are you saying that you discovered a new cure for PTSD?"

There was a long pause.

"No," she said finally.

"Shana, it's been two months. When did you move that arsehole in with you? And don't start lying and say he hasn't been living there. He has his dressing gown there. No man takes his dressing gown for a quick fuck with the local sluts."

"Will you please stop calling me that!"

"Of course. Just as soon as you show you never were one."

"That's not... I wasn't..."

"Come on, Shana. You knew from the message I left that I knew all about your cheap-shit rancid little affair. You certainly didn't rush home to get some damage control going. So you must have taken your time to get some good excuses and justifications together. This is the best you can come up with? When did you move him in? You know I'll find out eventually, so please don't lie."

"I didn't move him in. He found out that some of us had isolated ourselves from our families, and asked Jill if he could stay in the third bedroom to do the same. I didn't rush home when I saw your message because I couldn't leave my patients until I could get cover. I wanted to. The last three days have been a nightmare. When I turned my laptop on in the morning and saw your message, I fell apart. Somehow you knew about Reg and I, you wouldn't take my calls, and I couldn't get to you."

"Aah, again, my sympathies. By contrast, the last few days have been a dream for me, obviously. Sitting here, watching you fuck some doctor again and again, wondering where I fell short, how I let you down, when you stopped loving me. Yeah, it's been like paradise for me. Just another day there."

"I'm so sorry," she wept.

"That'll fix everything. Apologies always make everything right," I said bitterly. "A little forethought -- no, let's not do that. Let's not think about the consequences. Instead, let's smash everything to pieces and then say sorry. That's a much better plan. That way I get the cock I want, and nobody gets hurt.

"So when did he invite himself in?" I wasn't going to let it go.

"About five weeks ago."

"So... three weeks on iron rations? You couldn't go without getting a cock inside you for just three weeks?"

"No! I mean, yes. I could go without. It didn't start immediately."

"So..."

"Two weeks ago."

"Good to know that you've cheerfully been fucking him and happily lying to me about it for only two weeks. Goodness gracious, two weeks is fine. That's no problem. Hardly a betrayal of your marriage vows at all."

I pressed play once more and my voice and then hers came through as her face smiled at me from the screen.

"Just five more minutes, please!"

"Can't baby, I'm shattered. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you."

I clicked the remote, and played it over and over.

Eventually, she screamed.

"Enough! Please Mike, I know what I did. I broke your heart and mine at the same time. I just didn't realise it at the time."

"How could you not realise that, the first time he touched you?"

"Because I was depressed. I'd lost four patients that day. He hugged me and it felt good to have some human contact. It felt good!"

"And he felt you up good, I'm guessing."

"No, it wasn't like that."

"Until it was."

She wanted to deny it, but it would have been a lie and we both knew it.

Finally, the silence grew too tense.

"So where do we go from here?" She asked apprehensively, afraid of the answer.

"We don't."

"What do you mean?"

I sighed. "I mean, we don't go anywhere from here. There's nowhere left to go."

She crossed the room and dropped to her knees alongside me.

"Please don't say that. Please! I'll do whatever it takes. We can make it work."

"'We can make it work.' That's exactly what you said before you headed out on your noble venture, saving lives all over the place," I pointed out. "Remember that? 'We can make it work. We're strong,' you said. 'We believe in each other.'"

I rubbed my hands over my face to try and scrub away the emotions that were constantly trying to break through.

"You made it work, I guess," I continued after a moment. "I didn't get a chance to try. And I was strong, while you weren't. I believed in you, and you proved me wrong. This is all one-sided bullshit.

"I'm sorry! I was wrong. I was weak. I made a mistake."

"When do you have to go back?" I asked.

"Tomorrow... well, that's when they want..." She trailed off.

"So, not sorry enough to want to stay, then. Not sorry enough to try and resuscitate a marriage that's dead on its feet. Not sorry enough to stay away from good old fucking Reg? Or should that be old good-fucking Reg?

"This is not going to work. In all honesty, you should have just moved out when you first went to Jill's place. You should have said, 'Honey, I'm off to fuck other people -- the divorce papers will be in the post.' That's what you should have said. Sneaking around, organising some spare cock to move in with you to take my place, lying and cheating -- that is so unworthy of you and who you profess to be. Frankly, it... you, are despicable."

"First of all, it wasn't about good-fucking Reg, as you snidely put it. It was a way to relieve the stress..."

"Which I'm guessing you couldn't do with a vibrator or even your own fingers. What the fuck -- maybe a cucumber if nothing else was available."

"No... That's... I tried that. It was impossible to bring myself off. My mind kept returning to my patients at the wrong moment."

"Ah. So it had to be Reg's magic wand or nothing? You couldn't have just come home for one fucking evening to me? Why was that off the table? Why wasn't I good enough?"

"It was... It was just a moment of weakness. I couldn't come back to you and risk infecting..."

"Oh fuck off!" I shouted. "You're here right now! What's different?"

"I made them test me. I haven't been to work since... since you saw... since you left that message. I had to wait three days before I could be sure I wasn't a carrier. This is as fast as I could get here in a way that was safe for you."

"You can say it like it is, you know." I was so angry; my balled fists were locked between my thighs. "Since I saw you fucking that arsehole -- twice! Twice in one session. Fucking twice! What, you still had stress after the first time? Perhaps a dozen patients died on you after the first fuck, and it caused so much stress, you just needed your cunt reamed out again? Is that what you'd have me believe? Was Jill on duty and another threesome for the powerful doctor-man off the table?"

"No. I'm not saying that. I'm trying to answer your questions, but you keep changing them. Please let me explain."

"Okay -- one at a time. When did magic-dick Reg move in with you?"

"Five weeks ago, like I said."

"And he first came on to you...?"

She looked down, thinking. Then she sagged. "About four weeks ago. He brought me a cup of tea and gave me a shoulder massage."

"Would he have done that if I'd been there?"

"You would have given me a massage; you've done that before for me."

"That wasn't the question."

"No, it wasn't," she admitted sadly. "And no, he wouldn't. I wouldn't have let him."

"So why did you let him? Just because I wasn't there?"

"I don't know. I wasn't thinking about what he was doing. I was only thinking about how it felt. You'd do it and I would feel great. I just let it happen."

"How wonderful for you. What was his next approach? By that I mean..."

She cut me off. "I know what you mean. It was a few days later, he gave me a hug and a kiss. He apologised and said it had been an automatic thing that he did with his wife."

"So he's married then."

"Yes, I thought I said that."

"Does his wife know he's living with two fuck-bunnies?"

"Rude!"

"Okay, fuck-buddies. That's honest."

She glowered at me. I didn't slap her, which I felt was a win over my temper.

"I don't know," she said.

"Note to self, alert Mrs Magic-Dick that her husband is fucking around on her."

"Why would you do that? It could destroy their marriage."

"And I care about that, why?"

"What if they have children?"

"Then I think the probability of more siblings would be pretty low. What do you care?"

"I just..."

"Just wanted to protect your lover?" I think my interruptions were bothering her. I hoped so. I was putting a lot of mental effort it doing precisely that. I think playing the game was helping my concentration, allowing me to remember things clearly, and plan ahead even while I was talking.

"No! God no!"

"So you won't mind me booting him to the sidelines then, seeing as how I can't boot him in the balls. Much as I want to, I think the police would stop me and turn me right on around. I don't have all those privileges that you noble doctors have in your God-given task of fucking each other at will."

"Who the hell are you?" she spluttered. "And what have you done with my husband? You're not this nasty, horrible person."

"I am now," I shot back. "With good reason, wouldn't you think? Let's recap. At your insistence, I'm forced to stay alone indoors 24/7, or as near as dammit, while my wife merrily goes off to fuck other doctors -- male and female, carefully keeping me in the dark and feeding me on bullshit like a mushroom in order to cheat on me. How could that possibly affect my outlook on life?"

She looked aghast. "I didn't plan this! You can't believe I did that!"

"How can I not?" I wound the video forward to the leg-waving once again. "Want to watch how your toes curl when you have an orgasm? Come on, we can watch it together and you can see if you can turn me into a real cuck. Maybe it will turn me on. Maybe I'll get myself a gimp mask and start wanting to lick someone's cum out of your cunt. Maybe you can humiliate and break me down even more -- a cock cage might just do it."

Her expression turned to one of real horror. "You don't believe that of me! No matter what, you can't believe that. I would never do something like that."

"I'm already a cuckold!" I shouted. "You made me one. You did that! I didn't take part in any of that decision. That was all you. You did it! You did it deliberately and you did it often. How big a step further would the rest of it be?"

She scuttled back across the carpet on her knees, then drew them up and hugged them, her back to the settee.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

I got up and went to the kitchen, resisting the urge to smack her as I went past. I'd always been taught not to hit children, women, or the weak, and I'd lived that. But man, the urge was there.

This time, I made two cups of tea, trying every mantra I could think of to try and calm down. When my thoughts returned to the almost-rational, I wondered briefly why she was still there. Why would you do so much damage and then stick around to view the shattered remnants? Did she honestly think we could get past this? Or, was I wrong in thinking we couldn't?

When the tea was brewed and strained, I handed a cup to her and returned to my chair, congratulating myself for not having thrown the china against the kitchen wall.

"Where were we?" I sighed, after a few sips. They helped.

"I don't know anymore," she whispered.

"You going to let me interrogate you some more, or are you going to walk away?"

"Whatever you want," she said, her voice dull. I hated her and I hated myself. I just couldn't decide whom I hated more. Oh yes, Magic-Dick Reg. I hated him most.

"You know, there is a way that I can make sure you don't walk away -- a way I can keep you here and just keep asking these questions until I'm satisfied I know the truth."

"I can walk away. I don't want to, though."

"If I told your hospital administrator that we were getting divorced and you had lead me to believe you were deliberately going to try and become infected -- punishment by virus, so to speak -- what do you think they'd do?"

She looked at me in horror once again. "I'd be finished. They'd drag me off the Corona wards immediately. It would go onto my records. Why would you even think of that?"

"Would you be hurt by it?"

"Of course!"

"Everyone thinking you were a coward, a liar and a cheat, as well as a bad doctor? Can you imagine it?"

"It would be a nightmare come true. Please..." She whimpered. I'd never heard that before.

"Now you know how I feel right now. Not for the same reasons, but the same depth of pain."

The relief, as she realised it was an intellectual exercise rather than an intention, washed across her face.

"Okay," I said, suddenly feeling so tired that my eyes drooped. When I forced them open again, she was watching me, concerned.

"So, kissing during the time of the plague -- that's where you'd got to. Clever move. What was the next stage?"

"Stage?"

"Of your seduction, what else did you think I meant?" There it was -- my old friend outrage, back to hold my hand once more.

"More kissing, I suppose."

"Perhaps I was right about the virus-punishment thing." I shook my head in disgust at her stupidity. "Social distancing means nothing because you're a doctor?"

"We both wore PPE, so..."

I interrupted her once again. She was a clever girl, my Shana. I'd always known that. If she'd decided to lie to me, my only hope for the truth was to keep her off-balance at all times.

"Is that the same PPE that you couldn't trust not to infect me? Are doctors somehow exempted by this virus?"

"No, it was dumb. But once we'd done it once, it just seemed easier. Like an everyday kiss, something I'd give you."

"Don't ever make that comparison again. Don't compare me to him. You do it, I boot you out through that door faster than someone playing Snap while on PCP. A kiss you'd give me - except you'd deliberately made that impossible by isolating me. Yes?"

"It wasn't to deliberately cut you off. It was to prevent you getting sick. You know that."

"Actually, when you think about it, I don't know anything -- except what I see on that screen. Everything else I only get from your mouth. And you lie to me."

"I don't lie to you."

I played that first part of the video yet again.

"C'mon honey, five more minutes."

"Can't baby, I'm shattered. I'll call you tomorrow. Love you."

"That wasn't a lie? Seems like a lie. I mean, five minutes later you were fucking up a storm, and then getting ready for the encore. You couldn't give me five minutes because you had to scratch that itch -- for over an hour. I'm surprised you took my call at all. I mean, I'm just the man you say you love, not the man with a dick in his hand right next to you. So what the hell, just lie to the moron to get him out of the way so you can play with the real man!"

Shana ran out of the room, and I heard her puking in the bathroom. I walked through and leaned against the door jamb, looking down at her heaving back.

"Morning sickness?" I asked. "I guess only the mother knows, isn't that what they say?"

She looked at me with that horror on her face once more.

I was suddenly so sick of the whole thing that I felt near to pushing her out of the way so I could puke in her place.