Patricia
Patricia focused on the untouched bread but the image of Simon's guilt ridden face stayed with her. "Since I found the condoms in your office I just haven't been in a talkative mood lately. Sorry. Maybe I should look on the bright side and be grateful you used protection."
Their waiter strolled up to the table, oblivious to the tension in the air. "And what can I get for you today?" he asked in a chipper tone.
Neither of them took a breath.
"...or if you're not ready, I can come back in a bit." He glanced between them. "Yeah, I'll come back."
"Patricia, I—I don't know what to say right now." Simon buried his face into his hands and then pushed them through his hair.
Although in her heart she already knew, but to hear him actually confirm it...
"Tell me, how does this work?" Patricia asked. She rubbed her temples and looked around the restaurant. A woman like her mother might have screamed and thrown objects, but her body felt like it weighed a ton. Even her eyelids were heavy.
"I don't know." He sounded lost. "I'm so sorry. It kills me to know that I hurt you. Please know that. I just—" He shook his head and stared out the window.
"Hi, are you guys ready?" the waiter asked when he returned.
"We'll just pay for the drinks and leave. We've suddenly lost our appetite." Patricia explained, managing to sound calm somehow. Simon grabbed his wallet and handed several bills to the waiter.
"Oh, no problem. Have a nice day," he said, smiling at the generous tip. "Come see us again."
They drove back to her office in silence. The short distance came as a blessing because she couldn't bear to be this close to him.
Simon grabbed her arm as she pressed on the seat buckle. "What can I do to make this better? Just tell me. Anything and I will."
Can you turn back time?
"Stop seeing her." Patricia couldn't believe she even had to speak those words. This couldn't be her life. Everything had seemed so bright for her at least before college. High school had been the last time she had felt completely sure about herself.
He looked forward. "I did."
"When?"
"About a month ago."
"How convenient—"
"It's true," Simon countered right away, his tone adamant.
She should have stopped while she was ahead, but she had to know what lay inside this Pandora's Box. "Is she a student?"
He nodded.
"A current one?"
"No."
"How old?"
He sighed and dropped his head against the steering wheel.
"How old is she, Simon?"
"Almost twenty." He sounded embarrassed to admit it.
"Nineteen..." Patricia said to herself as the car next to them reversed out the parking lot. "Same age as Ella."
"Goddamn it. Sorry, I didn't mean to say that, I just can't—can't fucking— I'm sorry Patricia, so sorry." He got out of the car and slammed the door.
The numbness crept back over her again, narcotizing her senses. Maybe now she could concentrate on Sam's Excel document. Yeah, she would focus on that to get through the day. Each cell would receive her undivided attention as she turned in the most flawless report possible.
Simon called her name as she hurried into the building but she didn't look back. **********
Simon
Simon knew this day would come. He had even prepared for it on occasion. The day when Patricia would find out. The day his life would turn upside down and he'd be forced to see himself for who he was. A lousy husband and a poor excuse for a stepfather.
Her words played back over and over in his mind. Condoms. What an awful way for her to find out. And he thought he had been so careful not to keep any in the house. He tried to imagine how he would have felt were the roles reversed. How did Patricia manage to stay so calm? As much as he dreaded seeing her cry, her reaction made him feel worse. He deserved as much.
Fucking condoms...
He wasn't sure how long he had sat in the driveway, but Gabriella peeked from behind the curtains twice before coming outside.
"You know the kitchen, bed and TV are all inside, right?" she yelled out with a smile, rubbing her hands over her arms. He watched as she walked around the car to the passenger side.
As always she was sporting something revealing. Never mind that winter was approaching and it was freezing cold out. This particular outfit consisted of a thin blue tank top sans bra and a pair of black cotton short shorts with
luv me
written on the back in hot pink and colorful tube socks pulled up to her knees. She screamed college girl in that moment, making him feel even shittier. Shitty because of what he had done to Patricia and his marriage and shitty because once again, Gabriella had managed to turn him on. And right now was not the time he wanted the little head thinking for the big one and that pissed him off.
She tried to open the door but it was still locked. She softly tapped on the window. For a moment he had thought of letting her stand out there and freeze. But when she rubbed her hands over her arms again, he felt like a jerk.
She jumped in when he unlocked the door.
"Jeez, it's really cold today," she stated, turning the heat on full blast.
"Well it is late fall if you haven't noticed. I know it's hard for you, but you might try dressing accordingly."
"Jesus, what the hell is your problem?"
He turned to her and pulled off his sunglasses. "You really want to know the answer to that?"
"Yeah."
"You. You're my fucking problem," he snapped. Anger and lust, resentment and desire consumed him when he was with her. It all bubbled beneath the surface, ready to pour out.
"What? What did I do?" She looked hurt.
"She knows."
"Knows what? I don't—oh." Her voice tapered out.
"Yeah."
"Does she know it's me?" she asked, while she fidgeted with a string at the top of her sock.
Simon squeezed his forehead. "No."
"Then don't worry, Simon, it'll all be okay."
He let out a dry chuckle and shook his head as the hot air stung his eyes. "See, that right there? You amaze me. What the fuck makes you think it will be okay?"
"Because I've lived with her for damn near twenty years. She will ignore it and push it aside until it blows over."
"Is that how she handled your trouble making all these years?"
"No. It's how she handled me."
"Well forgive me, but I don't want my wife acting like I barely exist. Maybe you can live that way, but I can't."
"It's not really a choice I had, Simon. It's just the way things were."
He turned to her. "Is that what this is all about? Our affair? Was it just you getting back at your mom?"
"What?" she asked, her eyebrows drawn.
He had struck a sensitive spot, but at the moment he could give a shit. His life was falling apart while Gabriella marched around without a care in the world.
"You heard me. Everything you did, was it despite her?" Sweat dampened his neck.
"You are being a complete asshole right now. Look, I'm sorry she found out and that you're upset, but you don't have to take it out on me. And I think I would have to actually know my mother to want to do anything despite her. We share looks but are strangers, Simon, don't forget that. This has nothing to do with her! This was about you and me." She folded her arms and turned her head.
"It's never been just you and me."
"Well, that doesn't even matter because we're not together anymore."
"We never were
together
, Gabriella. You keep forgetting that." Every word he uttered hit their mark. He felt it. He wanted to stop, but he needed someone to feel worse than him.
"You know what? Fuck you! You want to be pissed at me for your failing marriage? I could have told you it would never work years ago." She opened the car door and stood up before leaning back through. "You're in love with a ghost. That girl you met all those years ago in college doesn't exist anymore. She's gone. Life disappointed her Simon and this is who you married. I just can't believe it took you three fucking years to figure that out!"
"You don't know shit about being married. It's more than running around in short skirts and fucking every boy you can wrap your legs around."
Her mouth dropped. "I hate you! God, I wish I'd never lo—liked you!"
"Likewise," he said as she slammed the door.
The glassiness in her eyes tugged at his conscience before she stormed into the house.
Could this day get any worse?
***
Patricia retreated to the bedroom and spent the evening buried in a book. Only a brief hello had escaped her lips since she'd gotten home, not that Simon expected anything more when he got into bed with her. At least she didn't kick him out. That had to be a good sign.
"What are you reading?" he asked, hoping to drown out the guilty silence.
She turned the cover toward him. "Song of Solomon," she said in an emotionless voice. "Have you ever read it?"