"Dinner is ready," is all she could muster. "It's only leftovers, but there's plenty for both of us. Why don't you fix yourself a drink…"
"What's this? No kiss for the conquering hero?"
"I'm sorry, Greg. I… I'm all wet and dirty. Please sit down and tell me about your trip," she said, but not really wanting to hear what had transpired in Dallas. As far as she was concerned, his whole job was a lie, their whole life was in danger of becoming a lie. If the company knew what he was doing, she thought, they would be on the street in five minutes and he would be in jail only a moment later. We're living on the brink of disaster and there is no way out, she thought, fighting back the tears.
Greg fixed them both a drink in the living room as she prepared to bring dinner to the already set table. She stood at the door with a platter of cold chicken in hand, braced herself, then swung the door open, a forced smile on her face and walked to the dining room.
"Next May," he said, choosing a drumstick from the platter. "Next May I will be in line for the regional directorship of the entire West Coast. What do you think of that?"
How could you, she thought as she forced herself to smile. "Oh, Greg, that's wonderful. Does that mean we can move somewhere else?"
He answered her question quickly then started talking about all the opportunity that was in store for them. He talked all through dinner about the raise in salary and prestige and all the benefits they would receive in the coming months.
He was still talking as he helped her clear the table and pulled a coin from his pocket once they were in the kitchen. "Heads you wash," he said, "and tails I do."
Janet watched the coin flip into the air and fall tails up. Greg started filling the sink while she stood by, dishtowel in hand, marveling at the mood. He hadn't talked to her like this for months, not even when he had been promoted to his present position only a week before.
"That's the last of them," he said five minutes later. "Fastest dishwasher in the west… What's the matter, honey? You haven't said two words in the last hour."
"Nothing at all," she lied. "I was just listening to you. I haven't had a chance to say anything."
"So, I talk too much," he kidded. "Well, enough of this talking. Let's get down to some serious business," he said, pulling her close to him and kissing her hard on the mouth, completely surprising her. She let him continue, but didn't return the kiss. Besides the fact that her mind was in torment, she wasn't going to let him get off the hook so easily for not making love to her for three months.
"It's been so long," he whispered. "It's been so long, but that's my fault. I have been so tired trying to work sixteen hours a day. But from now on you shall see a big difference in the sex life around here." His apology surprised her and she wanted to believe him. But she wanted something to do with it too. After all, she had put up with his neglect for three months and she should have something to say about it.
Wordlessly he took her hand and led her toward the stairs. Her tormented mind did not want to make love, but her body needed him desperately. She held back as he started to climb the stairs.
There was questioning in his eyes. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, puzzled.
For a moment she said nothing, but only stared at him.
"My God, Janet, I apologized. I want you as much as you want me. Now let's go up to bed, darling."
"That's not enough, Greg," she said, her tone of voice strange and hard. She wanted to know why he had not made love to her during the last ninety days. She wanted him to tell her his secret. "Just an apology won't do. For three months you've been neglecting me, in bed and out. You've been short tempered and almost cruel. You haven't even taken the time to say 'I love you' more than three times. I think I deserve an explanation."
"Honey," he said. "I told you. It's been my work. I've been doing for us so that we could afford all the nice things we have."
Please, she thought desperately as he talked. Tell me the truth. Tell me about the embezzlement. Confide in me. I'm your wife.
"You don't think it's another woman, do you," he asked. "There's never been anyone but you and there never will be. I do love you, and if I had the words I'd tell you how much."
She was silent. You do have the words, she thought. You can tell me. I wouldn't even care about another woman, but I know it's not that. I'd know if anyone had come between us, but it's not another person, it's greed.
"No, I don't think it's another woman," she said. "I trust you. There is something else between us, something trying to destroy us, and you refuse to talk about it. Greg, remember, I'm your wife and I want to help you."
She watched his smile. He's not going to tell me and he'll destroy us if he doesn't. Martin will destroy us. I don't want to tell you about Martin, she thought. You are not strong enough to take it, but then, I'm not strong enough to tell you. Our marriage might not be strong enough to do either of us any good.
"Come on now," she heard him say as she allowed herself to be cradled in Greg's arms. "I love you and that's all that matters. There's nothing wrong." She responded dutifully as he kissed her again. She wanted him to badly, but her conscience still fought her desire. Her thoughts turned to Martin and what had happened five nights ago in the back seat of his sleek convertible. She remembered the pleasure of his kisses, the excitement of his organ as it slipped inside her, hurting her. She could not forget the degradation he had submitted her to, but somehow the thought still excited her. With her eyes closed, the man who held her now was Martin, not her husband.
"Let's go to bed," he said, waking her from the dream. The pressure of his voice on her ear had awakened the napping desires within her. To bed, she thought as her nipples tightened beneath her lightweight housedress. He held her tightly to his side and her legs rubbed sensuously together, exciting her more as they walked up the steps to the darkened bedroom.
Perhaps they could work it out another way, she thought. But… she felt his hand cup her breast as he stepped slightly to the side and let her go through the door before him. This was the room in which Martin had defiled her marital bed. This was the room where she had become an animal and sucked at him greedily. And now she felt her mouth involuntarily salivating and she wanted to suck Greg, but knew that she could not, not unless he tried something first. She dared not to do anything that would reveal that she had been unfaithful. She could not let him know about Martin, his best friend. What was she going to do? The hand at her breasts kneaded the firm but pliant flesh, reminding her that desire still lived within her.
"You'll never need a bra," he said to her in the darkness. "You're perfect."
Perfect, she thought bitterly, and smiled at him in the half light of the moon that filtered through the drapes. If you only knew what an animal I've become. And there's nothing I can do about it. Oh, Greg, what have I done to you? What have we done to each other?
She put her arm around his waist as they walked toward the bed. Her other hand rubbed across the bulge in his trousers as she reached to unfasten his belt. She must try to make him happy; she must try to be a good lover for him. Somehow they would make out alright.
They stood facing as they worked at each other's clothing. Hurriedly he unfastened her dress and let it fall to the floor, at the same time kicking off his pants that she had unsnapped and unzipped. His shirt came off quickly and he kneeled to slide her panties from her rounded, perfect hips.
The sweet scent of the dampness that was flooding her yearning vagina entered his nostrils. He pulled the panties downward and kissed her belly. He nibbled at her skin above the silky pubic hairs that glistened in their clean blondeness.