Six inches. Not four, not eight, and certainly not ten. No, six inches is all I had, and at thirty-one, that's all I'd ever have. I always thought it was enough but guess my ex-wife Susan didn't. I'm not sure what she wanted, but I guess it wasn't me anymore. Be careful what you wish for is now my motto.
My five foot ten inch and a hundred and eighty pound frame had been replace with a six foot three, two hundred and fifteen pound one. The only problem was that my replacement wasn't quite as nice as I was. Do you know what it's like to be beaten and abused by a man that big? Well Susan does now, and just maybe she's having a little bit of buyers remorse. Too bad, because she's the last person in the world I'd ever feel sorry for. She does however not look quite as stunning as she once did. Black eyes tend to take away from facial beauty.
I take another sip of my drink and look at my watch. Eleven twenty-two. Eighteen minutes since the last time I looked. The living room is almost pitch black with the drapes drawn. I like the darkness. I can lose myself in it and nothing can hurt me there. That is, nothing except a wife with secrets.
I'd been divorced from Susan for three years when I met Beth. She was nothing like Susan. At five foot one and a hundred and two pounds, she was six inches shorter, forty pounds lighter and attracted to me from the get go.
To most people I lie about how we first met. I made up this romantic story about how we bumped into one another shopping for Valentine gifts for our significant others at the time. How we had coffee at Starbucks and never left each other's side after that night.
In truth, it was a blind date set up by my sister.
"You've got to get out there and meet other woman," she chastised me. "You want to be alone for the rest of your life?" I didn't, but wasn't the most trusting person when it came to members of the opposite sex. Too often the women I'd met lied, and I wasn't in the mood to be hurt by another one quite yet. So, I was kind of picky with whom I went out with.
Beth worked with my sister Vicki. They worked at American Insurance Corp. Where my sister worked in inside sales. Beth was the personal assistant to the head of marketing, a woman of forty who would eat her own young if she could find someone dumb enough to breed with her. After meeting her only once, I didn't think there was a man alive that would take on that task. No sane man anyway.
Beth just appeared one day at a casual BBQ get together at Vicki and Dave's house. She was cute, petite, and had a huge smile plastered on her face when my sister got around to introducing us. We were pushed together all night long by it seems everyone there.
"Do you get the feeling we've been set up?" she asked, after we'd been strategically placed next to one another for dinner.
"What was your first clue? The blood test we took when we walked in, or when we were then hand cuffed to one another so we wouldn't get lost?"
"How about the priest with the prayer book that's been giving us the eye all night?" Beth said with a bit of a muffled laugh.
"Though, it was a nice touch when Dave slipped me the two Caribbean cruise tickets and told me to have a nice time on the honeymoon."
"You're kidding me right? I mean he didn't really do that did he?" Beth asked.
"No, but he did mention that he and Vicki had a wonderful time on their honeymoon cruise and that they wouldn't mind going on another."
"Sister or not, they are not going on our honeymoon cruise. I'm not sharing my honeymoon with anyone but my husband." She stopped talking and blushed a bit. "That is when I finally get married." The night was starting to get interesting.
They did good. Beth and I were a match made in heaven, at least for the first six years. And yes, we did spend our honeymoon on a ship in the middle of the ocean. We left our cabin a total of eight times, one was required; muster they called it, and the other seven times were to dance in one of the four night clubs on board after dinner. My bride liked to kick up her heels. Thank God she would slow down after an hour or so when I cried uncle because I wanted to make sure I had enough energy left for what was to come later that night. Now there were doubts.
With a boy and a girl, we decided to stop at two kids. I'd like to say life was perfect, but what marriage really is. We had disagreements but they weren't huge ones, most about the trivial things of every day life. The lovemaking didn't suddenly stop one night and we even talked about our retirement years in the distant future.
I noticed a change just before our seven-year anniversary. I'd like to say it was the seven-year itch, but it wasn't. We still did it three times a week and had little if any money problems. We talked and I even went so far as to ask her if there was anything wrong. Like every other story on this site she told me there wasn't. But there was. Going on forty-one I wasn't a naïve kid and unhappily been around the block before. A man can tell there's something wrong if he only opens up his damn eyes. Problem was, I didn't know what.
I didn't follow her around in an unmarked or rental car. I didn't hire a private detective, or even bug our house or phone. I just watched the woman I though I knew as well as I knew myself.
At eleven-forty five I heard the garage door open and then close. I heard Beth walk into the kitchen and then towards the living room where I was still sitting, my drink now gone.
"You're home late from the club tonight," I said, watching her jump about a foot and then turn on the overhead light. "I thought you and Cathy were only going to stop for a drink or two?"
"You scared the hell out of me Steve, what are you still doing up?"
"Waiting for you," was all I said.
"Well, come to bed, it's late," she said waiting for me to get up before turning off the light.
After that it was your typical night. We got undressed. I didn't notice any tell tale marks on her body and I did look, as she brushed and flossed.
"You want to fool around tonight or is it too late?" she asked.
"Tomorrows' Saturday so we have the whole weekend to do that. I'm tired, how about just cuddling tonight?"
Well, there is a first time for everything isn't there. That was me refusing a love making session. And it didn't go unnoticed.
"You getting old on me?" she asked.
"No, just a lot on my mind; but if you want to that badly, I'm pretty sure I can get it up for you."
"No, you're right. It's late and a little cuddling is just what the doctor ordered. We cuddled, but neither one of us slept for the next two or so hours. I listened to her breathe and even felt her eyelashes on my face as she opened and closed them. She knew that I knew that there was a problem but wasn't saying anything.
We didn't fool around either Saturday or Sunday. Everything just seemed off. She didn't push it and neither did I. We did a lot with the kids, but when we were alone, there was this veil of something between us. I think Beth wanted to say something a couple of times but after opening her mouth she'd close it and look away.
Guys know. For me it was something in her eyes. The only questions I had was who and why. Truthfully I really didn't want to know, but in actually I needed to know. My only problem was I was afraid to ask her.
Work sucked for the next two weeks but not as bad as my home life. Our three times a week went down to maybe one, and it was a shitty one at that. I think a guy can handle almost anything in a marriage except cheating. It eats at you as you end up questioning your masculinity; I know I was.
"You mind if I go to the club Friday after work?" Beth asked Wednesday night after dinner while we were cleaning up.
"You going to be out half the night again?"
"Steve, I was home before twelve last time. Even when I was in high school I stayed out later. You act as though you don't trust me."
That question my friends didn't hang out there long.
"I don't, and if you want to go, I'll go with you Friday."
