The next day at the office, Julie threw herself into her daily work, using it as a distraction. To some extent it succeeded. But she couldn't fill every moment of her day with enough pressing issues to keep the night before from forcing its way into her thoughts.
She couldn't help noticing that Greg had not emailed her. Why not? Was it a case of not wanting to get dragged into a messy situation? A messy divorce? Was he truly only interested in her as long as there was plenty of good sex to be had and, now that they had gotten caught, he was cutting her loose? Moving on to the next married woman?
Or was he leaving it up to Julie? She was the one who had the most to lose. If anyone was going to take the risk of making contact after getting caught, it should be her, right?
Julie wondered what would happen if she simply didn't call him or contact him again. They would still have contact through work, but Greg had always been very discrete about their affair in their professional environment. Would Greg simply let it all go?
How long before there was another woman on her knees in front of him? Of course, Julie had no reason to think that there hadn't been other women all along. There was nothing exclusive about their relationship. He could have been screwing other women on nights when Gary was home and Julie couldn't make arrangements to see him.
Would it bother her to know that there had been? Maybe if she had to confront it, if there was proof that he had. But otherwise, no.
What about tonight? Julie was going to be facing Gary, trying to explain why she did what she had, trying to keep their lives from coming completely unraveled. And where would Greg be? Would he be sitting in a parked car getting a blow job? Would he be slipping quietly into the bed of some other married woman?
The thought angered her somewhat. They had both had the fun, but now it looked like the price to be paid was on Julie alone. Greg had lost nothing more than a piece of ass. Even if Julie was a good one, he could find another. If he hadn't already.
That thought decided it for her. She made no effort to email or call him. Even if she wasn't bitter about bearing the brunt of the consequences, it just wasn't a good idea to talk to him again. Not if she wanted any chance of saving her marriage.
When she got to the house, her house, their house, it didn't feel at all like coming home. Julie didn't even park in the garage. She parked in the driveway, like a visitor. She didn't go in through the garage either, instead walking around to the front door. She hesitated there; almost rang the doorbell.
She felt no more at home inside the house either. Gary was waiting for her, sitting at the kitchen table, a drink in front of him. Julie sat down across from him. He looked up briefly, then looked away. He either couldn't meet her eyes or didn't want to. It stung Julie as harshly as any words could have.
"Gary," she began, hoping she wouldn't start crying again. "I'm so sorry. I never meant to... to do anything... to hurt you..." her voice trailed off, her words sounding so trite, so clichΓ©.
"How long?" he asked directly, looking up at her. There was no compassion in his eyes. They were cold. Julie blinked. The dead look in his eyes threw her off and she couldn't grasp the meaning in his question. "How long were you and..." He paused. Was he expecting Julie to give Greg's name? "How long were you fucking him?"
Julie should have expected the question. It was probably one that every victim of infidelity asked.
"Six months," she answered, her eyes cast down, her voice quiet, subdued.
"Six months?" he echoed in disbelief. Was it six months? Julie wasn't sure. Maybe it was longer, maybe it was shorter. Did it matter?
"Were there others?" That question also should have been expected. But it hit her like a ton of bricks, left her dumbstruck. Did Gary really believe...? Well, she chastened herself, she had destroyed his trust. Why shouldn't he believe the worst was possible?
"No," she said simply, eyes still on the table in front of her.
They went on that way, question and answer for a half hour. Gary showed very little emotion throughout. His questions were all ones that Julie should have known were coming, but somehow they all still managed to surprise her.
When he finished his interrogation, Gary fell silent. He simply sat across the table from her without speaking for fifteen or twenty minutes.
"I don't know what to do," he said at last. "I need some time." Julie nodded automatically. She didn't know what he meant, but her conscience told her that she was the one who had committed the wrong. She had to defer to Gary.
She told him that she could probably stay with Ashlee for a little while. Ashlee had in fact offered to let Julie stay, if necessary. He seemed to accept that absently.
"Wasn't it enough?" he asked. "Everything we had? Wasn't it enough?" Julie could finally see some emotion starting to slip out from behind Gary's mask of detachment. Her head fell forward, tears starting to roll down her cheeks.
"It's not like that," she protested, her voice tight as a lump suddenly formed in her throat. But wasn't it? If what she and Gary had was truly enough, would she be in this predicament?
Did Gary sense it too? He didn't press the issue.
"I need some time," he reiterated. "Maybe a week or two. I don't know."
And that was how they left it. She went to the bedroom and packed a suitcase. A week or two... it seemed like an eternity, but what could she do? Maybe the pain she had caused him would fade a little and they could talk again.
She tried to embrace him before she left, but he turned away. She kissed the side of his face, her tears falling on him and then retreated.
Julie deserved that rebuke and she knew it. But had she dared to hope that maybe Gary would soften a little toward her? So soon? If she had, it was a foolish hope. She had hurt him badly, probably destroyed forever any chance that he could trust her. And torn his life apart every bit as badly as she had hers.
Julie returned to Ashlee's apartment, her heart heavy and despairing. At the moment, it didn't seem likely that Gary could forgive her, that there was any chance of saving their marriage. True, he only said he needed time to think. But how much could a week or two possibly temper his anger at her betrayal? How much could a year or two, for that matter, diminish his mistrust? There were some doorways that, once you passed through them, you could never go back.