Rebuilding Harry Ch 06

Veronica turned out to be pretty good with the video editing software, as Harry discovered the day after he brought it into work with the digital camera's memory card. That morning, she was away from her desk, but the coffee was waiting for him along with a note giving quick instructions on where to find the file. He booted the computer, and then proceeded to watch a ten minute montage of him and Veronica screwing like mad to a jazz background. She'd done a fantastic job mixing the music together, so that the pace of the tune seemed to follow their sex, and as he watched the close-up of him ejaculating into her beautiful mouth, the images in slow motion as a little bit of cum dripped down her serene face. He watched it a second time all the way through, enjoying how the light played off her naked body, how her breasts swayed as he fucked her, how she stared at him as though he were a god throughout it all. He found that a little funny, since every other time she'd been playful with him, not partaking of faux pornstar worship, but it was also kind of hot, and he enjoyed the idea that maybe this beautiful woman was putting him on a pedestal. With that thought, he felt the blood begin to rush downwards, and when the door opened again he had a rather large erection that he was about to announce to Veronica as she would walk through.

Except it wasn't Veronica. His draw dropped.

"Hi Harold," Trish said as she peaked in.

"Trish?" he said painfully. Out of the corner of his eye he could see that the video software was still open, and the final still of Veronica licking the tip of his cock as she looked up at him was plainly visible. However, the monitor was angled away from the door, and there wasn't any sound at this point. Still, if Trish came around to his side of the desk, which she might very well do because he wasn't quite ready yet to stand up to see her due to the recent arousal...

"I just thought I'd step in and see your office," she said, standing there, glancing around. Mercifully, she didn't step in.

"Yeah," he said, "I guess you haven't seen it in a while," he said. He tilted his head outdoors and saw that Veronica was back, calmly sitting at her desk, but not looking back. He brought his hand over to the computer mouse to close the video software. "Just let me kill this and I can show you-"

"Oh, don't get up," she said, walking slowly to the center of the office. She was wearing a sharp little outfit that hugged her figure well, and her curly hair was down. He suddenly got a strange moment of deja view, but he couldn't place it straight away. "I just wanted a quick gander. Yes, it's how I remember it."

"Uh, yeah," he said, as he clicked the mouse button, removing the image from the screen.

"Wouldn't make for interesting photos, though," she said, pursing her lip.

"What?" he asked.

"The photos you wanted to take of it," she said, giving him an appraising but unsuspicious look.

"Oh, right!" he said. The erection had died at this point, so he stood up to greet her. "Yeah, I know. I just wanted to have a few, just for the memories. Not that there are great memories of this office or anything." He cringed inwardly at the thought of that. Veronica was within earshot of their conversation. His eyes went out to her, but she hadn't reacted.

Trish smiled strangely at him, and then shrugged, her bosom heaving a little in the action. "I guess it's good to know what you've left behind," she said.

"Right," he said. "Look, can I have Veronica go get you a coffee or something?"

"Oh, no," she said. "I have to leave anyway. I was just passing by on the way to the grocery store."

"Well," he said, smiling awkwardly. "Thanks for stopping in."

"Maybe I can come by and see the new office?" she asked. "Which reminds me, when's that going to happen?"

"Oh," he said, "that's not for sure yet."

She gave him a strange look, and then opened her mouth to ask a question, before shaking her head and smiling broadly. "Alright," she said. "I'll see you at home."

Harry nodded and grinned. "Yeah! Great. I'll be bringing that camera home tonight, too." She nodded, and turned to the door. He watched her leave the room, and slowly crept to the door to see her tall, svelte figure amble over to the elevator. She turned her head back to the office to smile and wave. He waved back, and he let out a huge sigh as she stepped into the elevator.

"

No

great memories?" Veronica said pointedly from beside him as she continued typing away at her computer.

"Oh God, Veronica," he said. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"Relax, sir," she said, smiling like she was going to burst out laughing. "I'm sure you'll find a way to make it up to me later."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm going to go into my office and pass out."

"Need a massage?" she asked, looking up at him expectantly. "I'm guessing you're feeling kind of tense...?"

"Shit yeah," he said, and walked back in. Veronica dutifully followed him, closing the door behind them and then making her way around behind the chair that Harry slumped down into. "Fuck, that was close."

"Close how?" she said, as she placed her fingers on his shoulders and began to grip and rub them.

"I was looking at the video when she walked in," he sighed. "If she'd walked into the middle of the office, she'd have seen it."

"Oh my God!" Veronica laughed, and the grip on his shoulders tightened. He winced a little at the pain. "Was the sound on?"

"No," he said. "It'd just finished. I was going to play it a third time."

"Well," she said, as she resumed rubbing his shoulders. "I guess I must be a talented director, then."

"Oh, yeah," he said, distractedly. "The video was great."

She leaned in close to his ear, and her hair brushed the side of his face as she whispered, "The next one will be better."

"I'm sure," he said. He found that he was unable to enjoy the massage properly, so he put his hands on hers, gave them a squeeze, and said, "I'm totally sorry. I can't enjoy this properly right now. I'm a little freaked out."

"Oh," she said, surprised. "Alright. Anything I can do?"

"Yeah," he laughed. "Do you still have the memory cartridges from the digital camera?"

"Uh huh," she said.

"Great," he said. "Can you remove them from the camera and put them somewhere safe?"

Veronica laughed. "No problem," she said, and then strutted towards the door.

Harry shook his head and collapsed in his chair. The whirlwind of emotions going through him was intense. Veronica made him so happy, but he'd never considered that Trish would ever find out about it, just because her distinterest in him kept her completely separate from his work life for the last few years. But suddenly, there they were together, and the shock of it was almost too much. At that point, it hit home that Trish, who'd become almost like a stranger since his affair with Veronica began, was his wife again, the woman he'd known for so long, and the memories of it all were on the verge of rushing back in. He began to feel the two sides to himself, too, the older side that had fallen in love with Trish, and the new side which was now cheating on her, with a wonderful woman who...

...who was standing at his door with a worried look on her face.

"Harry?" she said.

"What is it?" he asked.

"The camera," she said. "It's gone." Her eyes were wide, and a little apologetic.

Harry's heart jumped.

***

An hour later, when he got home, he opened the door carefully and silently. He had no clue what to do, so he had Veronica cancel his appointments so he could try to get home and steal the cartridge out of her camera before she could see its contents. But in the car ride home, he replayed everything in that short conversation he had with her in his office. He'd practically telegraphed that he'd forgotten about the office photos, and if he couldn't have been any more suspicious if he'd tattooed Veronica's name on his forehead. Plus, he'd said he'd bring home the camera, but if she'd taken it with her and suspected nothing, she'd have told him.

At the moment he opened the door, though, his heart sank. He could hear Veronica's voice informing him that they had fifteen minutes of film, right at the beginning of the footage. He realized he'd arrived just too late, and suddenly there was a flurry in his stomach, of fear and guilt. What would he say? He hadn't imagined this entire thing was possible. He hadn't even rehearsed what he would have said about Veronica if she did find out. And what would he say? Would he bring up Jack? Would that make it all okay? And where would that conversation leave Veronica? Was he prepared to lose his wife?

"Relax," he said to himself, and he closed his eyes and breathed slowly. The deception was over.

In a way

, he thought,

you should be relieved.

He would go into the living room and confront his wife. He wouldn't keep anything from her about Veronica, and he'd tell her that it was time to end the charade of a marriage...

...and then he thought of himself, without Trish, and it made him worry even more. Sure, it had become a loveless marriage, but it was still a marriage, once founded on love, and only now, at the thought of losing her, did he realize that he still felt strongly for her. Was it still love? Did Veronica own that part of him now? He suddenly didn't know, and found himself walking rather slowly towards the living room, his soft footsteps not even making a sound on the carpet.

As he got closer, he could barely hear the noise of him and Veronica making love, and that made him shiver inside. The music that was in the video she'd edited together wasn't in this raw footage, and there was nothing really romantic about what he imagined was on the television screen. Just the stark, plainly obvious proof of his infidelity, and Veronica walking around to rearrange the camera. He'd thought they hadn't made much noise, but the camera had picked up plenty of sound anyway. It must have looked almost premeditated, and that idea made him almost feel regret for his wife, as though it might have seemed like he was bragging. He remembered how he felt after hearing her and Jack together, and if she felt even a fraction of that pain, it was more than a person deserved.

Still, as the sounds of his and Veronica's moans filled the hallway from the living room, he walked slowly, wanting to greet her only when the video footage was done. He waited outside the living room, his back against the wall, unable to see what was inside, but he could sense Trish's presence inside, and he grew more and more anxious as he wondered how she was reacting. He thought he could hear her breathing, and there was a tenseness to it that made him sigh inwardly. He closed his eyes as the sounds of Veronica and him building towards climax, before he could almost envision Veronica, kneeling before him, sucking him as her breasts pressed into his thighs, and finally receiving him as he came into her mouth.

Harry took a deep breath as the sound ended then, and from outside the living room he heard Trish stand up, and then walk over to what he assumed was the camera. He waited breathlessly to see if he could tell her reaction to it, and suddenly he was too paralyzed to walk in then like he'd planned. It was as though it were the last thing he'd wanted to do.

And then he heard Veronica's voice again, telling them that they had fifteen minutes of film.

Trish had restarted the video.

He couldn't move, completely transfixed by what he imagined was happening next door. He could see her face, totally in shock and appalled at what was happening before her eyes, and suddenly he could hear that Trish's breathing was deeper and more pained. It took him a few minutes to muster the courage to confront her, but finally he couldn't put it off anymore, and before the tape had a chance to run through a second time, he inhaled deeply, and came to the doorway of the living room.

And he saw his wife, sitting on the sofa, her shirt unbuttoned, her left hand massaging her right breast which she'd lifted free from her bra, and her right hand deep within her skirt, arching her back against the sofa, her hair falling loose on the cushions on either side, her eyes completely fixed on the screen, frigging herself as he and Veronica had sex on the camera. What's more, there was a look of lust on her face that Harry hadn't seen in years. He coughed at the sight.

It startled Trish, and she looked over immediately, surprised at the sight of him. She regained her composure quickly, though, and ran her hands through her mussed hair before leaning back against the sofa, looking exhausted. She fixed her bra but didn't do up her shirt, and she stared at the center of the floor, her mouth open and her eyes in a sort of shock.

Finally, she looked up at him, but didn't say anything. Harry himself was mesmerized by what he saw, and completely unable to comprehend it, and the best thing he could think to say was, "I guess we have a lot to talk about."

She let out a quick breath and then laughed once, before her smile dropped, and she bit her lip, looking at him with tired eyes.

"Oh, Harry," she said, breathlessly.

***

He sat down across from her as she got up to pause the camera playback. It unnerved him a little that the frozen image of him and Veronica was still on the television, but given the way Trish had taken to it he supposed it wasn't quite so perilous as he'd have imagined. Trish continued to sit there, slightly dishevelled, but not wanting to fix herself. She had a strange look on her face, something that was a mixture of satisfaction and sadness. He didn't really know what to say, so it was a relief when she boldly started it off.

"I've cheated on you too," she said, a little heavily.

"I know," Harry said, almost chuckling.

That got her attention. She tilted her head and studied him for a moment, but then she grinned and sunk even deeper into the sofa. "I suppose I wasn't exactly careful about it," she said.

"I never would have guessed," he said, "except for that answering machine message from him you left there."

"Answering machine message...?" she said slowly. "Did I forget to erase one?"

"Yeah," he said.

"I didn't think Jack had left anything scandalous on the machine," she said. "There were quite a few that I deleted that I later thought I could have safely left there."

"He called you 'babe' in it," Harry said, sinking a little at the remembering of it. "It bugged me."

"I can't remember that message. You deduced from that...?" Trish asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No," he said. "But I followed you."

She opened her mouth a little, and then smiled, revealing all her teeth. "What did you see?"

"Enough," Harry said darkly. "A part of me died that day."

"Oh..." Trish said, the glow on her face diminishing somewhat. She didn't say anything for a minute, until she waved a finger at the television screen. "If it's any consolation, our sex was never

that

good."

"Yours and Jack's?" Harry asked.

Trish shook her head. "It was alright, but nothing like that. The way she looks at you, Harry... My God."

"What about it?" he asked.

"It's so intense," she said, biting her lower lip quickly before continuing. "Don't you remember the way things were in university, when we first met? There were a few girls after you back then. I can still see the look on their faces when you would walk into the bar with the rest of your friends. They'd perk right up. Their eyes..."

Harry smiled at the thought of it. It was such a long time, and the memories had grown so weak, the vividness totally pushed out by those memories of him and Trish. He still remembered that time they met in that bar she was speaking of. There must have been a couple of girls who were attractive to him at that point, but he couldn't remember them at all. But the image of her standing up from her seat to go to the counter, so tall and elegant, so beautiful in a strangely older way even back then, it was still incredibly vivid. He was even beginning to remember the desire, that feeling in his stomach, something that almost scared him a little. And the immediate jealousy he felt for every other guy who was near her.

"You played it so well, too, back then," she said. "It took me a long time to get alone with you. It must have been weeks, and there was always some other girl hanging around, flirting with you..."

"Really?" he laughed. "I can't remember any of it."

"How about Tim?" she asked pointedly.

"Oh, I hated

that

son of a bitch," he laughed, remembering that friend of hers that had been pursuing her and rarely left her alone. "I remember how he'd follow you like a puppy dog, and I think that was the only thing that kept me from doing it too."

"Really?" she asked strangely.

"Yeah," Harry said. "I wanted to. I remember that. I remember not wanting to let you out of my sight whenever you were out. I even told myself I wouldn't go to the bar too much just in case I looked too eager." There were a couple of times that he slipped and went anyway, but he decided not to mention that.

"Isn't it funny," she said. "How long have we been married? And we've never talked about any of this..."

"We never talked about much, really," Harry said.

"I know," she giggled. It was strange to see Trish giggle. Her voice was deep enough that it didn't sound like it, but her face was lit up all girlishly. "We found plenty of other things to do... Come to think of it, mine and Jack's sex was never even half that good."

"It must have been good enough," Harry said a little spitefully.

"It was a little exciting," Trish said. "Not the sex. Jack's a pretty good-looking guy, and there are plenty of girls at the tennis club who are after him. It was nice to have him pursue me, but it also felt strange, when I finally had him. There was no satisfaction." She looked at him meaningfully.

"Sorry to hear that," Harry said.

"Harry," she said, leaning forward. "I know I don't show it, but I do love you. It was more intense back then, but even when things started to get stale, it never occured to me to leave you. Even when we stopped making love. There's no other man I could share my life with."

"Is that what you call what we have?" Harry asked. "We don't share much."

She smiled, and looked down at the floor. "I've never been that sort of person, Harry," she said. "And while I'm surprised at how little I know about you lately, I do know you wouldn't prefer a woman who gushed and babbled endlessly about how much she loved you."

Harry didn't say anything. She had a point, and he twisted his mouth and looked at the television. He said nothing, though -- it was annoying as it was to have to concede the point inwardly.

"Unless

she's

like that...?" Trish asked, following his eyes.

"No," he said, looking at Veronica's face. It was strangely reassuring to see her there. Suddenly he felt a longing to be with her. "Not really, anyway. She's pretty frank, but she doesn't talk about her feelings much." He suddenly recalled the times where Veronica had told him how he made her feel, and it made him warm inside, and while he supposed that those times probably could be emotional gushing by Trish's standards, he decided to keep that to himself. No need to share everything at this point.

"My oh my," Trish said, talking appreciatively again. "I don't think you know what it does to me to see you with her."

"No," Harry said, "I don't."

Trish looked at him for a second and thought, before saying, "You thought I'd be hurt."

"It crossed my mind," he said.

"Does it bother you that I'm not?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "I've been unfaithful. It hurt when I found out you were."

Trish nodded. "And you think that if I'm not hurt, then it means I love you less."