A sense of relief came over him as he sat back down and looked at the work that had piled up on his desk during the last few days. He wanted things normal again. He was tired of guessing what she may or may not have done. He wanted his loving and loyal wife back.
"Betty," he called to his secretary through the intercom, "would you grab a couple of coffees and come in to help me prioritize some things, please?"
"Sure, Ken," she answered.
By the end of the day Ken and Betty had everything caught up, and for the first time in almost a week, he was driving home in a good mood.
Jennifer, of course completely unaware of her husband's change in attitude, had spent her time sinking further into depression. Her plans to make things up to her man were all but dashed upon the rocks of his anger and mistrust. How could she start making it up to him if he wouldn't even let her in bed with him?
After doing the breakfast dishes and making the beds, Jen sat trying to come up with a way to show her husband how much she loved him when the phone rang.
Her voice was still hoarse. "Hello." There was a short silence.
"Boy, you sound terrible."
"Hi, Marge," she continued, recognizing the voice of her good friend. "Yeah, I know, I've been under the weather lately."
"Uh huh, would that have anything to do with your mysterious weekend?"
"Yeah," she tried to chuckle, "you could say that. I'm guessing Ken discussed it with Jack and he told you, huh?"
"Of course," chirped her friend. "Now what's this all about? Where the hell did you go? Did he have a big cock?"
The last question instantly set Jen off. "Damn it, Marge, how dare you ask me that, there was no cock!" she angrily replied. "I was NOT out screwing some guy!"
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I was just kidding. I know you wouldn't cheat on Ken. Sheesh, calm down...now, where DID you go?"
"I can't tell you, Marge, I can't tell anyone. I'm sorry but it has to stay my secret."
Again there was a short silence from the other end of the phone. "Jen, I'm your best friend, if you can't tell me who can you tell?"
"That's just it, Marge, I can't tell anyone."
"Wow, I'm beginning to understand a little about how your husband feels."
"Oh, Marge, please don't make me feel any worse than I already do; if I could tell you I would, I'd tell Ken, but I just can't. This is something I will take to my grave, I just can't tell anyone," she said starting to cry again.
"Okay, okay, honey, don't cry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."
"Did..." Jen sniffled a couple times before she could talk again; "did Jack say anything to you about what Ken intends to do? Is...is he planning to divorce me?"
"Oh, honey, I don't know but I don't think so. Jack says Ken's awfully pissed but he didn't say anything about divorcing you.
"Oh, Marge, what'll I do if he does? I don't think I could go on without him."
"Jen, don't even think about it. Ken loves you; I doubt very much if he's planning on divorcing you, not over something like this. You didn't really do anything wrong, did you?"
Jen ignored the question. "You haven't seen him, Marge. I never saw him so angry. He threw the hall lamp against the wall and hit that painting he loves."
"Oh shit, that doesn't sound good, hon," Marge responded a little shocked.
"I know, I've never known him to lose his temper like that before. The lamp was shattered beyond repair but the painting was okay, just the frame was broken. I took it and had it reframed. It's been hanging up since yesterday but Ken didn't even notice it, or if he did he didn't say anything." He's even locked me out of our bedroom..."
"Yeah," interrupted her friend, "I heard. Jen, I'm sure he'll calm down, just give him some time."
"God, Marge, I hope you're right. If I knew he was going to be this mad I'd never have gone."
"Yeah, well don't ever do it again."
"Are you kidding, never! From now on the only fantasy I have is to be the best wife a man could want; no more headaches or, 'I don't feel like it tonight.' I just pray it's not too late."
"I'm not asking what you did but tell me, after all this, was it at least worth it?"
Jen hesitated but then answered her friend. "No; not even close. I should have left the fantasy just that, a fantasy. It was disappointing and certainly nothing I'd ever do again."
"Damn, Jen..."
"Yeah I know. All I could think about coming home was how I would make it up to my loving husband, and then..." she had to stop talking she was starting to cry again.
"Jen, I'm so sorry. Hang in there, honey; just do everything you can to assure Ken of how much you love him. I'm sure you guys will be okay."
"Thanks, Marge."
They talked a few more minutes, but in the end Jen still had no idea if her marriage would survive.
That night when Ken came home, he broke his usual tradition of going right upstairs to change. He set his briefcase down in the hall and walked around the corner and into the living room. Jennifer was still in the kitchen cooking dinner and hadn't heard him come in. She became terrified when she heard him call her name.
"Jen, would you come out here for a few minutes, please. I want to talk to you."
She walked into the living room as if she was about to face a firing squad. She was still totally unaware of what her husband had in mind. Was this it, she wondered? Was this the end of her marriage?
"Jen, sit down for a minute," he said sitting down on the sofa and patting the seat next to him. "We need to talk."