The Game

"Arnie, I'm actually here about a very private matter, and you can be assured that we will keep this conversation confidential. I believe you're acquainted with my friend Andy's wife, Susan Cullen?"

Morrison did a pretty good job of keeping a straight face, but I could see his eyes widen slightly. Calmly he said, "I think I've met her, Brian, but I don't recall exactly when or where."

I leaned forward. "Mr. Morrison--I have no intention of busting your balls on this, as long as you're completely honest with us. But I know you were fucking my wife, and I need to hear the whole story."

The guy was a pretty cool customer, I've got to give him credit. He looked at us thoughtfully for a full minute, but without any panic showing on his face.

Then he said, more to Brian than to me, "this is totally off-the-record?"

"Completely," Brian replied. "This is not for anything I'm writing--it's a private matter. It doesn't get written about, it doesn't go to your wife. It stays with us three."

"And you're not recording?"

"I'm not recording," Brian said. I was, actually, with a little digital recorder in my jacket pocket, but neither of us volunteered that to Morrison.

He sat there another minute, still calm and thoughtful. Then he sighed.

"I'm getting the feeling that I didn't have the whole story either, Mr. Cullen," he said, looking at me. "Am I right that you were unaware of my, uh, activities with Mrs. Cullen?"

"Totally," I said.

"Well," he said, and stopped. "Well, yes--I did have an affair with Susan. About two years ago. We met at a publishing party of some sort, some reception for a new book."

He leaned forward, looking at me intently. "But I swear to you that she told me you knew all about it. She called it a game, actually. She said that she and her husband--sorry, you--got off on her sleeping around. That she went home each time and told you all about it, and that it really revved up your sex life.

"But she also made clear that you pretended to know nothing about her affairs, and that I should never ever mention anything about it to you.

"That was no problem, since we weren't particularly likely to meet. And in any event I had no desire for my wife to find out! So we were quite discreet."

"How long did you see her?" I asked him--to my amazement I was quite calm, as though we weren't talking about the utter destruction of the most important relationship of my life.

He thought a moment. "Maybe three, three-and-a-half months. It started in late spring, and I remember she broke it off with me around Labor Day. She said it had been fun, but that it was less exciting for her and her husband with the same guy after a while and she needed to find someone else.

"The whole thing seemed pretty kinky to me, but then Susan is a very sexy woman--I certainly never had any complaints." He saw the pain on my face and said, "Jesus, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's all right," I said. I believed him, that he thought he was playing a kinky game rather than helping a woman cheat. As I'd said to Greg, in the same situation I might have done the same thing--certainly would have, if I'd been single.

"Where did you get together?"

"Different places--we had to be discreet. Obviously I'm somewhat in the public eye. But I'm on the Council's Public Housing Committee, and it's easy enough for me to get keys to some of the vacant apartments in buildings the city controls--I just said my staff were doing spot-inspections. We usually met during the week at lunch-time, and sometimes spent the whole afternoon together."

"Any overnights or weekends?" I asked.

"Two or three times, when--when Susan said you were out of town." He looked uncomfortable again. "I made up some story to tell my wife, and we spent nights at your house.

"I'm very sorry, Mr. Cullen."

I nodded. I didn't need to ask him about how the sex had been--imagining it was bad enough.

"Did she ever tell you about her other lovers? Or about how long she and I had supposedly been doing this?"

"I think she said once that I was the fourth or fifth guy she did this with. I remember that she was flattering me--she said 'and you're the best of all of them!' or something like that. It was probably bullshit, but I didn't mind hearing it."

We sat in silence for another minute.

"Is there anything else you can tell me?" I asked him.

"No, I don't think so. I am very sorry," he said.

"I don't hold it against you," I replied. "You cheated on your wife, but that's your business. As far as Susan goes, I can't blame you for believing her story."

Morrison looked over at Brian. "Confidential?" he asked again.

Brian nodded, and stood up to shake Morrison's hand. "You have my word, Arnie. Sorry we had to put you in a difficult spot, but my friend needed to know the truth."

"Of course," he said, and politely showed us out.

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At the corner Brian stopped and put a hand on my shoulder.

"You okay?"

I sighed. "Yeah. I knew what I was going to hear, it's just that ... well, it's one thing to know it, and another to have it confirmed. The final nail in the coffin."

"You want to sit and talk, or get lunch, or even go hit a bucket of balls?"

"No, thanks, Brian. I'll be all right. I'm going to walk in the park until I get hungry, then grab some lunch and head back to work.

"But would you mind if I took you and Emily out to dinner tomorrow night? I'm starting to work out some plans, and it would be great to have you both to talk about them with."

Brian said sure, he'd set it up with Emily. I thanked him again for his help with Morrison. God, it was great to have one true friend!

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As I got out of my car in the driveway that night, I thought, "shit--another night of having to pretend I don't know what my whore wife has been up to."

And then I thought--why do I have to pretend? I'm not ready to confront her, but there's no reason not to rattle her chain a little.

Susan was getting dinner on the table when I came into the kitchen, and she smiled brightly and said, "hey honey--food'll be ready in just a minute," and blew me a kiss. I smiled wanly and pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge.

For the first few minutes of dinner she chattered away about her day; then finally she started to notice that I wasn't saying much.

"Rough day, Andy? You seem awfully quiet."

"Yes, in fact," I said, looking at her. "Quite rough. I seem to be finding out that I can't necessarily count on the people I thought I could count on."

"I'm sorry," she said, looking serious. "Is this something at work? I've heard you complain a couple of times recently about Hank's staff...."

"I don't think I should say anything more about it right now," I replied, leaving it hanging. I sat looking right at her for another moment, then without another word got up to clear our plates. As I moved around the table I noticed that she was looking at me in alarm.

And when I came back into the dining room with two pieces of the apple pie she'd bought, her face looked flushed, though she pulled herself together and thanked me with a warm smile. We ate our dessert in silence at first, until Susan made a couple of awkward attempts to restart the conversation, talking first about the new neighbors across the street, then about a great vacation one of her girlfriends at work had taken.

When we'd finished dessert she got up and came around to my chair. Bending over and putting her arms around me, she rubbed her cheek against mine and said, "would you like some coffee? Or something else nice and hot?"

I couldn't help thinking, if I'd only gotten an invitation like that some another night--not when I'd just learned of her years of cheating on me--I would have been thrilled. Instead, her offer only deepened my rage.

I stood up, shrugging out of her hug, and said, "no thanks--I need to get to some paperwork." Without looking back I walked out of the room and down the hall to my study, leaving her staring after me.

I didn't know how shaken or frightened she was, but I knew I'd gotten to her at least a little, and that was just fine with me.

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I had planned to stay up late and come into the bedroom after she was asleep. But by about 10 I was tired, and thought, "fuck this--why should I be avoiding her?"

So I went to get ready for bed, noticing she was already in bed watching TV. I undressed, used the bathroom, did my teeth, and climbed into bed without a word.

She quickly switched off the TV, leaving the room lit by only my bedside lamp. She rolled over to face me and I could see she was wearing one of her skimpier, sexier nightgowns--not at all typical for an ordinary weeknight.

Scuttling over to press herself against my chest, Susan murmured, "in the mood for a little loving, Andy?"

I turned away, rolling over so that my back was to her. As I did so I said, "no, not tonight. Good night." And I reached out and turned off the light.

You can bet that I'd NEVER done anything like that before. The times I'd turned Susan down for sex were few and far between--a couple of times when I had a migraine, or when I absolutely had to finish a work project. Maybe 4-5 times over the course of our whole marriage; and never without an explanation.

So my behavior was about as big a red flag as could be; yet Susan never said a word. She didn't ask, "is everything all right?" or "are you angry?" She didn't ask me anything--because, of course, she was afraid of the conversation that might follow.

Susan falls sleep easily, and most nights I can hear her steady, relaxed breathing begin within a couple of minutes of turning out the light, while I always take somewhat longer. But not tonight. A half hour later, she was still awake--and she still hadn't spoken another word.

I smiled grimly to myself in the dark. It wasn't like I was sleeping either, of course. Mostly I was thinking about all the times we'd had sex with me having no clue I was getting sloppy seconds (or, presumably, cleaned-up sloppy seconds--I'm sure that she washed up before coming home to me). All the times when I happily made love to the only woman in my life, thinking that I was the only man in her life. I lay awake for a long time--getting very, very angry.

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Up early, quick shower, cup of coffee, and into my office by 7:30, without a word to Susan. I had a lot to do. I left a note on my boss's desk saying I'd like to speak with him as soon as he came in, and then I sat making lists of credit card and bank accounts, possible movers, and other logistical stuff I'd need to take care of.

At 8:15 Lionel stuck his head and said, "morning, Andy--you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, thanks, Lionel--can we talk here for a minute?" I got up to close the door.

I'd worked with Lionel Brundage for nearly a decade; I considered him a friend as well as a boss, and I'd decided I needed to trust him.

"Please keep this completely confidential, okay Lionel? I'm afraid I have some bad news--I found out Susan's been cheating on me, and I'm going to leave her. As soon as I can, in fact.

"So I wanted to get the name of that headhunter who called you about me last year." There had been an executive search firm showing interest in me, though the conversation never got very far--because at that time I was perfectly happy staying where I was.

Lionel was stunned, and said so. In fact the word "Jesus" figured prominently in his first few remarks. But as we discussed things, he got over his shock and was eager to be helpful, as I hoped he would be.

By 10:15 that morning I'd reached the firm and talked to the guy who'd inquired about me the previous year. By 10:45 I'd faxed him my resumé, and by 2:25 we were back on the phone, discussing three possible positions that might be suitable.

The best of them was a fund-raising job for a big non-profit organization in Chicago. The work was much like what I was doing now, but with a bigger support staff, and the salary would be at least 20% higher. They'd been trying to fill the vacancy for nearly four months and were ready to move quickly. I told the headhunter to tell the non-profit I was interested, and available for an interview on short notice.

I was getting ready to leave the office at about 5:50 when the phone rang and a big booming voice said, "Mr. Cullen? I'm Ted Hruska, from Global Resources up in Chicago; I understand you might be interested in our fund-raising position."

We had a terrific conversation for nearly half an hour, at the end of which he invited me up to Chicago to meet the Board. The trip would be in two days--and I was happy to accept the invitation.

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Dinner with Brian and Emily was both reassuring and painful. Reassuring because it reminded me that I had the support of two really terrific friends--painful because I had to tell Emily the story, which meant going through it once more.

She was stunned--and full of sympathy and concern for me--and just furious at Susan.

"That--bitch!" she said quietly, and I could see her fists were clenched. "I just can't believe...." She looked at me and, seeing the pain in my face, her look softened.

"I'm so sorry, Andy," she said, reaching over to take my hand. "What can Brian and I do to help?"

"Just be my friends," I said, wiping a couple of tears away. "I know I can get through this, but I have to admit that it sort of sucks to be me right now. But knowing that I have the two of you to talk to really helps a lot."

Brian squeezed my shoulder, and they both told me how much they wanted to help in any way they could.

We ate our dinners and I told them what I was planning: to take a job out of town and just disappear. I wasn't interested in destroying Susan, or in publicly humiliating her. I just wanted out, and I wanted her to wake up one day and suddenly find that her marriage was over, her husband gone. That would be punishment enough.

I told them about the potential job in Chicago. "It sounds very promising, and if it works out I'll almost definitely take it. Then I'll just vanish, and let Susan go crazy trying to find me."

I knew I couldn't hide forever, but I intended to explain my situation to my new employers and ask them to hold off for a month or so on a public announcement of my hiring. With a new cell-phone number and a new email account, and with the cooperation of Lionel at work, I was sure I could stay untraceable for a couple of weeks, long enough to cause Susan some suffering of her own.

"So, when it all hits the fan, I'm going to ask you guys to lie for me, 'cause I'm sure you'll be the first people she calls. Just tell her you don't know anything about it."

Emily smiled grimly. "And to think I considered her one of my best friends! Andy, you know you can count on us. And I look forward to giving her a piece of my mind when she comes calling. That selfish, cheating...

"Well," she said, a little embarrassed, "I guess you can tell how I feel about what she did!"

"Does that mean I can count on you be faithful to me, babe?" Brian asked teasingly.

She playfully slapped his arm. "Yes it does--and you better not be getting any behind my back either, big guy, unless you're looking forward to a penisectomy performed without anesthesia!"

We all broke up in laughter, and our dinner turned into a relaxed evening, full of humor and affection. I was almost--almost!--able to forget the misery and rage I'd been carrying around non-stop for several days.

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It was late when I got home and the bedroom was dark, but Susan was still awake. She'd sent me several friendly, lighthearted emails during the day at work. But the only response I made was to send a brief reply reminding her that I'd be late coming home after a dinner out--I never said with whom.

"Hi, baby," came her voice in the dark, deliciously relaxed and sleepy. I was painfully reminded how much I had loved Susan, and how sexy I still found her. If only all this were just a nightmare--if I could only believe that I still had a faithful, loving wife, and dive into her arms!

"How was your dinner? I missed you tonight."

"It was all right," I said bluntly. "I ate with Brian and Emily. It's nice to have friends, people you know you can trust."

She sat up. "But why didn't...." She left the question unfinished. Like the night before, she was afraid to say anything that might lead to a conversation she didn't want to have, which left her stuck. "Tough shit!" I thought to myself.

Instead of saying anything else, Susan silently waited while I got ready for bed; and when I lay down she rolled over to take me in her arms.

"You let me down last night, baby," she purred into my ear, pressing her lovely soft breasts against me. "Any chance of my getting some of that good loving tonight?"

I grinned to myself. "Sorry, Susan," I said, turning away from her embrace. "I'm still troubled by the problem I mentioned to you, and I'm really not in the mood."

I could practically hear her brain working frantically. After a silence she said, "okay, honey, I understand. But I hope we can make love soon--I really miss you!" She rubbed my arms and shoulders lovingly for a moment, then moved away from to her side of the bed. Once again it took her quite a while to fall asleep. And me even longer.

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In the next few days things moved quickly. My trip to Chicago to interview with the Board of Global Resources went very well, and I agreed to take the job, starting in ten days. I immediately spoke to Lionel, who was very understanding about my giving him such little notice. We agreed that I'd continue to consult with him part-time for a month or so, until my replacement was up to speed. I owed him a lot, and I made sure he knew I wouldn't let him down.

Four days later I made a second trip up to Chicago, working with a real-estate agent that Ted Hruska knew, and located a nice one-bedroom apartment only minutes from my new office. I signed the lease, then made a quick trip to a furniture store and bought enough to get the apartment set up. I arranged for its delivery to be handled by the super at my new building, so the place would be ready when I arrived.

I even made arrangements with Eileen Stambaugh, who would be my new Administrative Assistant, to shop for bed linens and towels and some basic kitchen stuff. Eileen was happy to help, especially after I promised her a dinner at the best restaurant in Chicago!

By the time I got back to Cincinnati the second time, there wasn't a great deal left to do. I had to clean out my office at the University, pack my clothes and the few other things I'd be taking with me from the house, and make all the financial arrangements to separate my life from Susan's. Everything but the packing I could do in my office, and it was all complete by Friday.

Susan had no particular reason to be concerned about my out-of-town trips, since I traveled quite frequently in my job. But my coldness definitely had her worried, and I enjoyed watching her struggle to know what to do.

She didn't want to have a conversation about what was bothering me, since she undoubtedly feared I'd started to be suspicious about her infidelities. So all she could do was be affectionate and loving--and my brusque rebuffs of all her advances clearly upset and frightened her.

Emily phoned me at work to tell me, with a certain malicious glee, that Susan had called her to see if she knew anything about what was bothering me.

"I enjoyed every minute of it, Andy," she crowed to me. "I made Susan tell me about all the ways you were acting strange: not responding to her affectionate hugs and kisses, turning her down for sex, hinting that there was some problem but not telling you about it.