Promotion Comes With Strings Attached

"Why didn't you call me, I've been worried sick?"

"Sorry, I was busy. You know what that's like."

Her face went bright red. She was not impressed. "Whatever... I thought we could go out for dinner. I don't feel like cooking."

Fly-out day came around quickly, although this time I had to laugh. I saw her packing tampons in her handbag.

"Have fun, honey," I said, giving her a little kiss.

Things had been going better, so I guess she thought she could try a little humor. "Not this time, I have my period."

"Oh, how sad," I said with a cynical laugh.

"Yeah, you can laugh, I don't think Wyatt will be."

"No, probably not. Like I said, how sad, never mind."

She shook her head, but managed to laugh. "See you when we get back."

Talking to the guys at work about the studio project, a few of them offered to help. I hired an excavator and extra tools. That night, we threw ourselves into the task of clearing out all the crap and loading it into dumpsters.

Coby called, and we talked for a while. "How did Wyatt take the bad news?" I laughed mockingly.

"How do you think?" She giggled.

Friday, we were finishing the last of the clean out at the studio. The place was clear of any crap, the walls, the whole building hydro blasted. The guys and I celebrated with some beers and pizza. We were having a few laughs, finishing off the booze, when Coby called.

"Where are you? I thought you would be home?"

"Working late, be there soon."

"Dinner is ready, you didn't tell me you were working late."

"Yeah, sorry, I'll be there soon."

"Fuck, bro, you, got a thumb print on your forehead as big as a house." The guys all joked at my expense.

At home, Coby slipped into my arms and kissed me. As the kiss deepened, she pulled back. "You frigging liar. You've been drinking."

"We had a couple of beers after the job, sort of a celebration."

"Dinner is ruined."

"We could order in?"

"You've already eaten, I can taste pizza."

At least she was calming down. "Go and have a shower," she ordered.

When I returned, there was pizza and she had opened me a beer.

We slipped into the usual catch up: she excitedly vomited up all the news of her trip, going into minute details about the clients, the people, how well the presentations went and how she was really getting the hang of the job.

I was on my third beer, and seeing as I already had some, I was feeling it.

"How was it sleeping alone? Bed cold, was it?" I said trying to keep the mood light with a little humor.

I saw the way her face paled that clearly wasn't the case. I couldn't hold back angry retort. "I see, so the bastard got to come in your mouth after all, huh?"

She had been cuddled up beside me, but after my accusation. She moved away. "Why do you always have to make it gross? Christ, I am so sick of your petty hostile vulgarity"

"Well, that's what happened isn't it?"

She didn't answer. "Did he get one of your specials every night?"

"Darren, lets not do this."

"No, let's do it. I'm sick of all this shit. Lets just get it all out in the open."

I saw her body tense up, and her breathing quicken, "Darren, this is my first night back. Do we have to do this tonight?"

"Yes, yes we god damn do. Lets talk about you and fucking loverboy. What sort of sex do you have with him?"

Her angry glare only darkened at my snarling retort. "Do you really want to do that, Darren? Is it a good idea after last time?"

"No, not really, but yeah, I need to know."

"Darren, I don't think it's a good idea, what good can come from it?"

"I need to know. Sorry, you may not want to talk about it, but I need answers."

"Yes, all right." She sighed in a deep resigned exhale. "You're wrong though. I did want to talk about it. Just not like this. I was hoping it would be a late night conversation, when we were in bed, and both in a happier mood. I don't want to do it like this when you're angry."

That shocked me, although it probably shouldn't have.

"Do you have sex every night?"

"Yes."

"Do you orgasm?"

"Darren, please, can we drop this," she pleaded. Her face was twisted in uncertainty.

"No, I need to know. When you have sex, do you orgasm?"

"Yes," she rasped hesitantly.

"Every time?"

"Mostly, yes."

"You obviously suck his cock, I assume he comes in your mouth?"

There was a pause, and she took a deep breath, her voice taking a harder edge. "Yes. He did this time, but usually, it's just foreplay." Her voice changed.

The whimper was gone, now replaced by a growing hint of anger at my inquisition. "Foreplay..."

"Yes, you know what foreplay is. A prelude to sex." She hissed. "Darren, I don't see how this helps. Please, let's just drop it."

"No, I want to know, I need to know, and I need you to be honest."

"Fine," she said coldly.

"Does he lick your pussy?"

"Jesus Christ," she snarled. "Yes, okay, where are we going with this. Am I on trial or something?"

"Do you come, when he eats you out."

"Yes," she hissed. "He loves to lick my pussy, and he's very good at it. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"When he fucks you, do you enjoy it, is it pleasurable?"

"Yes, I said that already."

"No, you didn't, you said you had an orgasm."

"Isn't that one in the same?" She sighed.

"No, I think that orgasm is a conditioned response to a manual task. Like if an ugly old hag masturbated me, even though I hated it, I would probably still get an erection and come."

There was silence as she digested my statement.

"Let me make sure I got this right. You have foreplay, which you enjoy, which leads to sex which you enjoy, share mutual orgasms. Have I got it right so far?"

"Yes," she grunted reluctantly. "Is this making you happy, Darren?"

"Okay, what happens after sex, you obviously sleep in his bed. Is that right?"

"Yes, during the last trip, I slept with him." That revelation was said in hushed tones, guilt pervading every word.

"Can I ask why you slept with him on this trip? You couldn't have sex, the most he would have got was a fucking blow job, so why sleep with him?"

Guiltily, she mumbled. "Sometimes it's easier. I always worry about somebody seeing me sneak back to my room."

"Afterwards, do you roll over away from him, or do you snuggle?"

"Darren, please, don't do this." Her eyes were big and pleading, her cheeks flushed.

"Tell me, Coby. Do you curl up in his arms and cuddle?"

"Yes," she gasped loudly. The guilt so strong, she couldn't say it with the same even tone. She stuttered, something she only did when she was nervous.

"When you're cuddled up in his arms, your ass pushed back against him. Do you talk?"

"Yes," She sighed despondently.

"What do you talk about?"

"Work, clients, plans for the next day, that sort of stuff."

"What about your plans for the weekend?"

"Sometimes."

"Our relationship, me?"

I heard her sniffle, trying hard to stifle a tear. "Yes, sometimes. Babe, it's only because he is worried about us. He doesn't want anyone to get hurt. He wants us all to be happy."

I laughed, the ridiculousness of it really getting to me. "Don't be fucking absurd. All he cares about is himself. What pisses me off is when we talked about this. It was only going to be sex. What you're doing is making love. You're not fucking your boss. You're having an affair. You're sharing feelings, concerns, love. You're making fucking love."

She started crying, my outburst really bringing out the guilt.

"Darren, it is just sex, I don't love him."

"But you are now in a relationship with him. You talk about our private life, you talk about me, you tell him things you don't tell me, I bet."

"Darren, please, I'm begging you, leave it alone. This isn't helping is it, or are you getting off on it?" Her hand reached down and grabbed my flaccid dick. She squeezed it, her hand stroking me, through my jeans. I'm not sure if she was disappointed or glad there was no reaction that it stayed soft.

"No, it isn't what I wanted to hear." I Growled "I was hoping to hear you say that you were just fucking. This is much worse, you're his girlfriend."

"I am fucking not," she gushed. "This is about trying to make the best of a situation. We both signed that damn contract. I wasn't expecting to enjoy the sex, but Wyatt is a very skilled experienced lover. I can't help it if I garner satisfaction from it."

"Yeah, whatever. You got your wish. The job, and the lover."

Her first night back, and we were already at each other's throats.

That night in bed, we both slept as far away from each other as two people sharing a bed could get. I heard her trying to suppress the sobs, but she couldn't hide them, not from me. I knew her too well.

The next few days passed like that. She went off with friends Saturday and didn't return home till late. I didn't care. I spent the day working in the studio.

Sunday was a repeat. Although this time when she got home, she was smashed. She staggered in reeking of booze. She grabbed my hand and dragged me up the stairs.

"Come on, lover. I'm horny as fuck."

She ripped both our clothes off and threw me on the bed. Her warm hands started gliding over my body, her fingernails leaving trails as she went. Tickling and caressing, teasing. Her hand slipped around by cock, and regardless of how angry I was, it started to respond.

Fuck it, why should I miss out? I rolled her onto her back and plunged into her. "Oh shit," she groaned loudly. "Take it easy, babe."

I was drunk and angry, and her needs were not high on my priority list. There was no lovemaking that night; I settled for a ferocious fuck.

I pounded her ass down into the mattress, her quivering body responding, although there would be no orgasm for her. I was so incensed the cum exploded deep into her womb just as she was getting warmed up.

I climbed off and she sighed, muttering obscenities in dissatisfaction.

Holding back her tears she, grumbled drunkenly. "Why are you so brutal, these days? We used to make love, you used to lick my pussy. You loved it. I can't remember the last time you did that for me. Come on, babe, lick my pussy."

"You don't need me for that anymore, remember? That's Wyatt's job now. You said he likes to do it."

"Oh, for gods sake, when are you going to let it go? I'm talking about us, you and me. Why can't we have our life back? Why can't we make love the way we used to? At the moment, we spend more time fucking than making love. I don't like it, but we can't change the current situation. Why can't we just make the best of it, what happens between him and me doesn't affect us."

"Yeah well, it is what it is. You were supposed to make love with me, and fuck him. Seeing as how our roles have been reversed. I'm trying to pick up his slack."

With her face screwed into a vicious sneer she hissed. "Christ, you can be fucking disgusting."

"Why did you sleep with him on this trip, Coby?"

She sighed guiltily. "I told you, I hate having to sneak out back to my room in the middle of the night."

"You're lying. Why can't you be honest."

"Darren..."

"No, be honest, Coby, at least tell the truth. You sleep with him because you like it."

"Yes, fine," she snapped caustically. "I didn't set out to, but he is a nice guy. If I have to have sex with him, why shouldn't I enjoy it?"

"No reason, I suppose."

With nothing left to say, I rolled away and tried to ignore her. "Darren, I know this is hard, and I don't mean to be cruel, but you're right. We have to be honest. If we're going to make this work, we have to do that."

She snuggled up behind me, and nestled her head against my shoulder. "Maybe you could wake me in the morning, with your tongue?" she said in what she probably thought was teasing. To me, it felt like an instruction.

"Sorry, early start for me in the morning. Give old fuck head a call, he'd probably love to do it for you."

I heard her sad sigh.

I was late the next night; I had started the marking out. The building contractor had been with me as we measured everything. I lost track if time, and it was late when my phone rang. "Hey, Coby, sorry, I'll be home soon."

She hesitated before answering. "Babe, we have end of month stuff to finalize. I'm not going to be home tonight."

"What do you mean, you won't be home?"

"I have to get this finished."

I new where this was going, and I didn't like it. "There's nowhere for you to sleep; you can't stay there all night."

"Wyatt said we can stay at his place."

"Like fuck. He has you when you're away. You're mine when you're home."

"Don't be like that, babe. There will occasionally be times when this happens."

"No, you're my wife when you're home. Are you still in the office?"

"Yes, we're just finishing up, and then going to his place."

"No you're not. I'll be there to pick you up in half an hour."

"Darren, stop. You're making this hard. You know how this works."

"Oh yeah, I'm getting a fucking idea how this works. But it ends here. Either you come home now, or it will be the end of our marriage. This is my line in the sand, Coby. Tonight is the night. You get to choose between marriage and him."

I heard her crying softly. "Please don't make this difficult. We talked about this. I'm sorry but there will be times I have to do this."

"Oh, who fucking cares. I'm sick of this shit. It's him or me, Coby."

Trying to console me she whispered. "I'll be home tomorrow night, babe, I promise, and I'll make it up to you."

"Nope, it ends tonight. I'm not joking."

"See you tomorrow night. I love you Darren."

She disconnected, and when I called back, it went straight to message bank. Her phone was off.

Fuck her, and fuck him, I was sick of him controlling my life. I made my mind up right there and then. Our sham marriage was now over. This was the end.

Looking around the firehouse, I could actually move in. The electricity had been connected that day, the building was secure. I could use what used to be the fire chief's office as a bedroom while we worked on the downstairs.

I had no time. I had to move fast. I broke every speed limit on the way home. I packed everything into the truck I could get. It took two trips, but by two in the morning, every living trace that I had ever lived in that place was erased. I was gone.

I called in sick the next morning and helped the construction crew on the fire house.

The remodel had begun in earnest.

About ten, I got a text from, Coby. "Love you. I'll be home early tonight."

I didn't respond. At lunch, there were several missed calls from her.

The remodeling was moving along well. The studio was broken up into different spaces: control room, main studio, isolation booths, toilets, kitchen area.

At least something in my life was going well. I was more determined than ever that this was going to succeed.

To speed up the process, I arranged with my boss to take a week off. He wasn't happy, but begrudgingly approved it. At least I could be there for the important part. Throughout the day, my phone buzzed, I ignored them all. I had to take the one from my boss.

"Darren, I don't know what's going on between you and your wife, but can you stop her from ringing here. It's driving Stacey crazy."

"Sorry, boss, I should have told you. We have separated, I'll give her a call."

There was no escaping it, although, I limited it to a text war.

"Are you trying to get me fired? Stop calling the office."

She replied immediately. "Where are you, what's happening, where's your stuff?"

"I told you last night, you had a choice. You chose to end our marriage. It's over Coby, I've moved out, and this time. It's permanent."

"Call me, this is ridiculous."

I turned the phone off and went back to work. By the end of the day, the walls were up and the insulation installed. Once the workers were finished and I was left alone, I walked around the building. I couldn't stop my heart racing, everything I had last week was gone. This was the start of the next stage of my life...

If only it were that simple. You can't cut somebody out of your life with one incision. The wound is too deep. At least our finances were separated. After I left the first time, we had never reverted back to the joint account.

It was at night, laying in a cold bed, that the feeling of emptiness really set in. I suppose in a way, her having traveled so often over the last few months helped. It was still hard, and it's not the things you expect to bring the memories flooding back. It's not just the sex, I mean that's part of it, but no, it's the intimate little things we used to do together.

Yeah, I missed her. You can't make somebody the center of your world, and then cut that heart out.

The next few days I tried to push aside my feelings for her. I needed to focus on the project. At least with so much going on during the day, I was too busy to care...

I was sick of sleeping in a sleeping bag, so I did take some time off to buy a bed, a couch and some cooking utensils. I was already sick of eating out.

I caught myself out after getting some of the guys to help me carry the bed up to the living area and taking several calls from building suppliers and local building inspectors. I answered the phone without thinking.

"Hi, Darren speaking."

"Thank god." It was Coby. The relief in her voice ebbed away as a dark pause settled over us.

"Darren, please don't hang up, we need to talk, and not over the phone."

"Coby, it's over. That last stunt was it for me. That showed me exactly what you thought of me and where I stood. You've got a new life, focus on that. I'm sure you're going to make an incredible CEO, you're obviously in love with Wyatt. Now you have what you wanted."

"Oh, good god. Don't be absurd, I don't love him. We are friends and lovers, but I don't love him."

"You can say what you want, but you positioned him above me. I begged you not to go with him, I fucking begged. Do you know how that made me feel? Knowing you preferred to be with him instead of me... That was the last straw."

I heard the sniffles, heard her choking back the tears. "Darren, it was just because we were fighting. That fight the night before. It really hurt. You were so cruel to me, and every time it's the same, you couldn't let it go, you kept throwing it in my face.

Like always, I felt the anger inside burning, like molten metal bubbling away waiting for a vent. "What the fuck did you expect? You're having an affair, fucking somebody else."

"But we talked about it, you signed the contract."

"Coby, I never agreed with one single thing on that preposterous document. I told you at the time, all I could promise was to try. Well, I did that, I tried, but failed. You totally disregarded my pain, and it was the contemptuous way you did it. You just hung up... That devastated me."

"I'm sorry, I know it must look terrible, and I do feel it. I just didn't know what to do. When I told Wyatt what was happening and how you were acting, he suggested I stay with him, and it made sense. I thought if you had some time to think, it might help. Christ, we didn't even have sex, we just talked."

"Time to think... What a load of crap. You think I don't get enough time... What do you think I do while you're in his fucking bed... Jesus, Coby, it rips my fucking heart out every night. It's bad enough when you're on the road, but then you gave him my time as well. Fuck that. I'm sorry, but we are done. Please stop calling work, you're getting me in trouble."

I disconnected the call and went back to the studio.

Work moved quickly: the glass walls were installed, the electricity was run, and I could start work on the painting and decorating. One of the contractors put me in touch with a guy who was demolishing an old warehouse. When I went to the site, there was all this old cedar siding and oak beams. I brought the lot, thinking how cool it would be to have the studio timber lined.