Opening Up

"So...a little afternoon delight, then?"

She grinned from ear to ear and nodded enthusiastically. At that moment I thought, how could I ever deny her something that makes her this happy?

***

I had just wrapped up a conference call when I noticed the time. I gathered my things and quickly left the conference room and headed to the section of the building where there were several empty cubicles. I found one in the corner and sat in the chair at the desk.

I took out my cellphone and pressed the "Find My Phone" app. I entered Meagan's user name and password. I had set up this app for her when she first bought her phone. I doubted she even remembered it, and hoped that she hadn't deleted her app. Within seconds, I got my answer. A flashing blue dot was moving down a road.

My heart was racing as I followed the dot. Just knowing what that dot represented, and why it was moving, revived that now-familiar sensation of anxiety and excitement that had become my newest addiction. I imagined that it must be the same sensation a bank robber feels while committing a potentially dangerous and immoral act that is also undeniably thrilling.

I savored the surge of adrenalin twisting my stomach into knots as the blue dot traveled down one back road, and then another, before coming to a stop. They had arrived. I watching that blue dot, pulsing in little concentric circles, fixated on it, waiting for it to move again. I wondered what they were doing at that moment. How long before that dot would move again?

My focus blurred as I concentrated on that dot, willing it to move. Enough time had passed that they could be fucking each other's brains out. Maybe she was sucking his dick. Maybe he was fucking her, doggy-style. Maybe they were sucking and licking each other in a "69" position. Each and every potential scenario caused another surge of adrenaline, another high, another tinge of panic.

At last, the dot moved back in the direction from which it came. I looked at the time. Twenty-one minutes. How much could two people do in twenty-one minutes? Quite a lot, I imagined. I received a text. "All done," it read, with a smiley-face emoticon.

***

"Well?" I asked. Meagan had just walked through our front door, and hadn't even had a chance to shut it, before my interrogation began.

"Hi, honey," she said with a smile, placing her bag on the floor. "How was your day?"

"Never mind that," I said, impatiently. "What happened today? At lunch?"

"Okay, just give me a minute to put my things away," she said. I had been waiting anxiously all day to hear every detail. It was driving me insane not to know.

I watched her hang her coat, take off her shoes, and place her bag into the hallways closet. It seemed as though she were moving slowly on purpose. She came into the living room, sat on one of our chairs, and looked at me. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything," I answered.

She sighed, which slightly annoyed me. "Okay, let's see. Well, we drove to his house at lunch, and—"

"Wait, you went together?"

"Yeah, he picked me up," she stated, matter-of-factly.

"Why didn't you just drive to his place?"

"He offered to pick me up, and I didn't know his address," she explained.

"Okay, go on."

"We got to his house and got naked. I sucked his dick for a while, he went down on me, and then we fucked."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I said. "Wait a minute. Slow down. Every detail, remember?"

"Honey," she said, "this was our third date. Nothing has really changed since the first two. I mean, his dick is the same size, he was just as good as the first two times, and we didn't do anything we didn't do the first two times."

"Okay," I said, feeling more irritated than aroused. "So, what, then? You only share details when something unusual happens?"

"No, I will tell you every detail you want to know. So what do you want to know?"

I was mystified by her sudden change of attitude. She treated this as though it were an interrogation and not the fun and arousing storytelling that I looked forward to hearing. I felt the overwhelming urge to make her feel my presence, to reclaim her as my own, and to reconnect on a level that only we could ever experience.

"Take your clothes off," I ordered.

For a brief moment, she appeared annoyed. She seemed to catch herself, however, and her expression instantly morphed into one of a sexy seductress. She rose from her chair and placed her lips near my ear. "I promise that I will knock your socks off," she whispered, "but would you mind if we had dinner first? I'm starving."

***

I probably kept tabs on her various boyfriends better than she did. After Kyle, there was Tommy. After Tommy, there was Brad, and then Matt. Over the course of the next six months she was with three different men. Each date seemed to include a new adventure. Tommy invited her to his office in the middle of the day and fucked her right on top of his desk. Brad bought a hotel room, tied her to the bed, and had his way with her for over two hours. Matt had a very large cock, and apparently knew how to use it. Every detail of every date is etched in my memory to this day.

Although she seemed to slow down a little, Meagan's sex drive continued to operate in high gear. She was happier than I had ever seen her, and I was happy that she was so happy. As we approached the date of our eighteenth anniversary, I never would have imagined that a couple could be so happy together for so long.

On that day, I asked my manager for an extended lunch break. I paid a surprise visit to Meagan's office and planned to take her out to lunch. I approached her cubicle and discovered she wasn't there, so I poked my head above the wall of the cubicle next to hers and asked the young man sitting at his desk if he knew where she was. I couldn't help but notice a strange flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"Sh—she's in a conference," he stammered. "Can I give her a message?"

"I'm her husband," I said. "I'm just here to take her to lunch. Any idea when she'll be back?"

He rose from his chair and shuffled into the hallway. "She should be back any minute," he said. He then turned and walked at a brisk pace down the hallway.

Moments later, Meagan arrived. Although she appeared happy to see me, I noticed that strange flicker of panic behind her eyes as well. I took her to lunch, and acted as though everything were normal. However, I knew at that moment my life had dramatically changed.

***

I allowed a few days to pass, hoping that Meagan would instigate the "we need to talk" conversation. It didn't happen, though. I spent those days contemplating my next move. One of her greatest features was her intelligence. She may have been the smartest person I had ever met. She wasn't "book smart", and she was terrible at trivia, but she was incredibly cunning when it came to thinking several steps ahead and solving problems in such unique ways that would have never occurred to me. She often called herself "devious", and I often joked that I was glad to be on her good side.

I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt. I trusted her more than I had ever trusted anyone, and I found it impossible to believe that she would break that trust. Yet, I couldn't deny the evidence before me. I opened that "Find My Phone" app every day at noon and watched that pulsating blue dot. Sure enough, on the third day, I watched that dot move from Meagan's office building. It moved down the main road, off of two side roads, and came to rest at the same exact location I had seen before.

At that moment, it felt as though I was literally being crushed by a heavy object sitting on my chest. The sadness and rage were overwhelming. I felt like an absolute fool. Everything I thought I knew about my relationship with my wife and our marriage was a lie. It was all a lie, and I had played a willing and active role in that lie.

She smiled broadly when she came home that day, but her smile soon faded when she noticed the expression on my face.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Have a seat," I said, motioning toward the chair opposite of my own. She maintained eye contact as she sat, and I could see the thoughts racing behind her eyes.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"You tell me," I said. I read somewhere that the best way to catch someone in a lie is to remain silent and let them talk their way into it. So that is what I did.

"I...I don't know," she said. "I don't know what's going on."

"Did you have a date this afternoon?" I asked, scanning her expression.

"Oh, yeah, that," she said with a nervous giggle. "Yes, I did. I'm sorry I didn't tell you before, but it was sort of a last-minute thing."

"With who?" I asked.

"Umm, Matt. He took me to lunch."

"He took you to lunch," I repeated. I shook my head and lowered my eyes. "How long?"

"Umm, I don't know. About thirty minutes—"

"No, I mean, how long have you been lying to me?" I asked. I could see the confusion in her eyes as they darted back and forth. "How long have you been having an affair? How long have you been cheating on me?"

"An affair?" she said, her pitch rising nervously. "Honey, we have an open marriage, remember? How can I have an affair or cheat on you if you know all about it?"

"Do I?" I asked. "Who were you with today?"

"I told you," she said, folding her arms. "It was Matt."

"You just lied to me again," I said. "Tell me something: was there ever a 'Matt?' Or a 'Tommy' or a 'Brad?' Frankly, I'm beginning to wonder if 'Jason' ever existed."

"Wh-what are you talking about?" she said, her voice quivering and her eyes welling.

"That is why I asked: when did your affair begin? Was it all a setup from the very beginning? Shit...was my birthday present part of your elaborate plan?"

"Honey, please, just slow down. I don't know what you're talk—"

"Don't!" I shouted. "Don't lie to me again. Do me a favor and show me a tiny shred of respect for the first time since this whole thing started. After all we've been through, you owe me that."

Her hand covered her mouth, and tears began to cascade down her beautifully freckled cheeks. Those gorgeous blue eyes that captured my heart so long ago now glistened and reddened. She sobbed for a moment before regaining her composure.

"I was with Kyle," she said softly.

"I know you were with Kyle," I said. "You've been with Kyle all along, haven't you?"

I could tell by the way she looked at me that she was contemplating whether or not she could get away with another lie. Then she slowly nodded her head and lowered her eyes to the floor.

"I'm going to guess that he started working in your office shortly before my fortieth birthday," I said. "Is that right?"

She said nothing, which gave me my answer.

"You wanted to have an affair," I continued, "but you didn't want to cheat on me. So you concocted this whole plan to open our marriage."

"That's not true," she whispered. "It was your idea."

"Was it?" I asked. "Or did you plant that idea in my head?"

She shook her head.

"Matt, Tommy, Brad...those guys never actually existed, did they? They were just stories you told me to cover up what you were doing with Kyle. You would have sex with Kyle, and then come home and tell me what you did, only changing the name. That way, maybe you figured it wasn't cheating. Is that how you justified it to yourself?"

"I...I was going to tell you eventually," she wept. "How did you find out?"

"You probably don't think I'm a very observant person," I said, "but I couldn't help but notice the tattoos on Kyle's arm when I went to your office. The tattoos...the name plate on his cubicle wall...oh, and the wedding band on his finger."

She softly wept, staring at the floor. Her silence told me everything I feared was correct.

"You pretty much broke every rule we had, didn't you?" I said. "I said no married men, no one we knew, no more than three dates, and I'm guessing you didn't use a condom with him, either."

Again, nothing but silence. My heart sank. I could feel the tears beginning to sting my eyes, and it took every ounce of willpower within me to keep them from flowing.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I'm so sorry. I thought that you were okay with what I was doing. I didn't it would bother you, whether it was Kyle or someone else."

"It didn't bother me that you were having sex with other men, Meagan. What bothers me is that you lied about it. The fact that you lied tells me you knew it was wrong, and yet you did it anyway. I trusted you, completely, and you abused that trust. That is something you can never get back. I love you, Meagan, more than anything in the world, and I will always love you."

She lifted her head and looked into my eyes.

"But I cannot trust you," I said. "I can never trust you again."

I rose from my chair and picked up the suitcase I had packed. "Good bye, Meagan."

***

They say the only winners in a divorce are the attorneys, and I found that to be true. Meagan and I settled amicably, split our property fairly and evenly, and went our separate ways, and it cost us a bundle in lawyer's fees to do so. When I first left that house, I didn't think that it would be the last time I would ever step foot inside. I was devastated in the days and weeks after I left, and seriously considered returning. Meagan desperately tried to win me back as well. Slowly, however, I began to adjust to the thought of not having her in my life. We had been together for so long that I had forgotten what it was like to be without her.

More than two years have passed since the divorce, and I honestly don't know what Meagan is doing these days. The last I heard, she moved to New Mexico to be closer to her relatives. I stayed in town and bought a condo. About a week ago, I ran into a former classmate of Meagan's at the grocery store. I only recognized Samantha because she would often comment on Meagan's Facebook posts.

"Have you heard from Meagan lately?" I asked her.

"No, we haven't really kept in touch," she said. "How are you doing?"

I was touched by the look of concern on her face. "I'm doing okay," I said. "Can't complain. How about you?"

Her plump lips parted and she smiled, causing her dark eyes to twinkle. "Same here. Can't complain. My two boys are eating me out of house and home." She motioned to her grocery cart, which was practically overflowing, and I noticed her long and brightly-colored fingernails. She peered into my handheld basket, which contained only a small birthday cake and a six pack of beer.

I laughed in embarrassment. "I know, it's pathetic, huh? Birthday party for one."

"Oh, that's right; it's your birthday. Today?"

I shrugged and nodded. "Really, it's just an excuse for me to eat cake."

"Well, happy birthday, Sweetie."

"Thank you," I said. "Well, I should let you go."

"Okay," she said. "It was really nice seeing you." She pushed her cart and continued her journey down the aisle. I can't believe it took so long for me to realize it, but as soon as I did, I quickly pivoted and chased after her.

"Samantha!" I said, apparently startling her. She turned and cocked her head. "I...I was just wondering...are you free for dinner? You know, maybe you could help me with this cake?"

She smiled and nodded. "I'd like that, Thomas."