Guess What Honey? Ch. 02

Maddie started to answer me, her mouth opening and the words threatening to spill out. But she quickly pumped the brakes. I wished I thought it was to spare my feelings; I didn't. Instead, I suspected it was to try to head off a worse outcome for herself - and only herself.

"I'll take that as a yes," I said, a bitter smile curling my lips. "And what does a woman call a man that she wants to date repeatedly? She calls him her boyfriend."

My logic was unassailable, and we both knew it. She could have argued that "bull" was another acceptable term, but we both knew it would be intellectually dishonest of her to try and say that her attraction to Baptiste was merely sexual.

"So, yes, you have your own fault in this as well. I guess we both suck."

I closed my suitcase and grabbed its handle, picking up hers as well. Extending the rods to the travel cases, I pulled them along behind me as I headed for the door. I stopped when I reached it and turned back to face her, finding my wife still standing there, looking weary and beaten.

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We made the ride home in nearly complete silence; the trip took twice as long as it should have because of a wreck in the eastbound lanes of I-20. Rather than heading straight home, we drove over to pick up the girls from my parents, the two of us putting on a happy act for the gathered masses. To my relief, neither my parents nor the girls seemed to notice that we were lying through our clenched jaws and gritted teeth.

Once home, we separated. Maddie retreated to our bedroom because she claimed to be tired and wanted to take a nap. I, on the other hand, hid in my den, nursing a glass of bourbon as I pretended to watch a ballgame. I felt dead inside, my mind a blank as I stared into oblivion, welcoming the state of nothingness I'd found.

It was nearly three hours later that I looked up to see that the ballgame had ended, only to be replaced by an infomercial for a new type of commercial smoker. It was dark in the room and the house had gone quiet, telling me that everyone else was in bed. I managed to get out of the recliner, my stiff body aching as I stretched my muscles. I was hesitant to face Maddie but knew that I would have to do so eventually. I felt like a coward as I approached the bedroom, silently praying that my wife would be asleep.

I quickly discovered that I would have no such luck. Maddie was sitting up in the bed, her phone in hand. She looked up at me, concern filling her eyes as she took in my visage. I offered her nothing in return, nor tried to. Maddie, on the other hand, was an open book. I saw compassion in her eyes

"We need to talk. I have a few things that I need to say, and I need you to promise that you'll let me get them out without interrupting."

I stared back at her while trying to decide whether I could honor her request. I finally concluded that I'd already said everything I had to say. Anything else would have just been a retread.

"Sure," I replied, still standing there.

"Do you want to change and get in the bed?" she asked, her tone indicating she wanted me to do just that.

"I'll stand," I said, suddenly feeling as though I needed to keep some space between the two of us. Maddie had always had the upper hand when we were in bed.

Maddie looked saddened by my reticence to join her. I had little doubt that she had already rehearsed the scene in her head, and each time she had, I'd been lying beside her while she'd lovingly snuggled up against me. What husband married to such a beautiful and sexy woman could resist her charms under those circumstances?

"I want to start by saying that I'm so sorry for the things I said while I was with Baptiste. I was caught up in the moment and I think that I was just trying to say what he wanted to hear. It was never my intention to hurt you. I love you with all my heart. You're the most important thing in the world to me other than the girls. It kills me to know that I broke your heart."

But you don't know that for sure, do you, Maddie? It might have just been the truth slipping out - well, more like being pounded out of you by the best cock, period.

"Secondly, I own my pussy, and only I get to decide who gets access to it. Again, I was just trying to stroke Baptiste's ego."

That first part doesn't bode well for you, Peter, does it? Wait for it... here it comes!

"Having sex with Baptiste isn't better... it's simply different," she added, the lie escaping her lips with such ease that it made me discount everything she'd previously said.

"And lastly, I wan..." she sputtered, "I do want to see him again. He wants to see me this coming Friday, and I want to go. Baptiste suggested that if you don't want to watch that maybe it will be better for you to wait here at home. He said that he'd be fine with picking me up and bringing me home afterward."

I offered her nothing, neither verbally nor visually. Even though I'd known it was coming, her words still struck me like a Mike Tyson punch to the gut. I once again felt as though I might vomit, the prospect of her allowing that man between her legs once again signaling the death knell of the close marriage we'd once had.

"Are you going to say something?" she asked after a long pause.

"You asked me not to talk," I said with a shrug.

"Well, what do you think?"

"Do whatever the hell you want," I said, the relative peace of my den and the warm embrace of my recliner calling my name.

Writers Note: Chapter 03 is coming soon.