It was Susan's late shift at the hospital--she always worked until 8:30 pm on Wednesdays--so she wasn't surprised to find that Zach had already put the kids to bed. Irene was six, nearly seven, and Ben was four; their usual bedtime was around 7:30.
But she was surprised to find the table set with the good china, with two of their good wine glasses, and a bottle of the Pinot Noir they usually saved for holidays sitting open.
"Wow, Zach, this looks nice!" she said, giving him a quick kiss.
He smiled. "Go wash your hands, and peek in on the kids if you want, and I'll serve the dinner."
When she returned to the table she was still in her scrubs but thoroughly washed, her hair brushed back into a nice ponytail. Their plates were filled with lamb chops, baked potatoes, and asparagus. One of Susan's favorite meals.
"What's the occasion?" she asked. "I'm pretty sure it's not my birthday!"
Zach returned her smile. "No, but I'd like to talk a little after dinner, if you don't mind."
This made Susan a little nervous, but only a little. They poured some wine, touched glasses, drank a bit, and enjoyed their meal. Conversation was mostly about Irene and Ben, her day in the ICU, an upcoming contract Zach's colleagues were working on--he was in the educational software business.
As they cleared the table Susan's nervousness returned. Asking for "a talk" was not something Zach usually did; and she couldn't help thinking about her own "talk," already scheduled (in her mind) for the following night.
Zach had planned this Wednesday night on purpose, of course. It had to be tonight because Susan intended to "talk" to him on Thursday. Zach knew this because he'd been paying attention: checking her texts, noting the changes in her schedule, reading the emails between her and Rob from the hospital's Development office--on a secret SusieQ@gmail.com account she thought he didn't know about.
***** *****
Zach had never been a particularly suspicious person. He loved Susan and knew that she loved him. They both adored raising their kids, even with all the lack of sleep, loss of private time, constant mess in the house--everything that comes with being young parents. They snapped at one another occasionally, when someone was over-tired or momentarily frustrated, but there were surprisingly few real fights or long-lasting arguments.
But it had hit him hard to find that her phone's password had changed. It was about four weeks before the lamb chop dinner. While Susan was taking a shower, Zach idly grabbed her phone to check the weather for the upcoming weekend, and her password didn't work. It had always been his birthday with the numbers in reverse order; his phone had her birthday. Now that password left him locked out--he tried three times.
The very next morning Zach got some quiet advice from one of his colleagues, and came home with information about keyloggers. Late that night he got up and spent some time with Susan's laptop.
The next morning Zach took the kids to school as usual--Susan was always gone by 6:30 am except on Wednesdays. But then he called the office, said he'd be in a little late, and returned home to spend some time looking at Susan's computer.
In addition to all the contacts he knew about, Zach found a "Rob S." The text thread went back about ten days, and it was mildly flirtatious. Not appallingly so, not overtly sexual--but way beyond anything Zach could have imagined indulging in with someone other than his wife.
By the time of the lamb chop dinner, Zach had a clear picture. Rob had met Susan at the hospital, God knows how, and pursued her. First casually--a couple of "surprise" meetings in the cafeteria, lunches together. And then more seriously.
And, to say the least, Susan hadn't shut him down. "You were so bad today!" she wrote, adding a smiling wink emoji. "Don't you know I'm a happily married woman?" That was from about a week ago.
And his immediate answer was, "Even a happily married woman deserves a little fun in her life!" with a smiling purple devil.
"Not the kind of fun YOU have in mind!" with a smile and a zucchini. That was from Susan--at 1:30 the same night. She'd been waiting until Zach fell asleep, then climbing out of bed to email back and forth with Rob. They'd switched over from text messages by then, for no reason that Zach could figure.
Zach decided to bide his time--for a bit. He had absolutely no intention of letting this son-of-a-bitch fuck up his marriage; but he also didn't want to be a divorced dad seeing his kids a couple of days every month.
The guy hadn't fucked Susan yet, he knew that. They hadn't even kissed or made out, judging from the emails. But the plan was for a Friday night sleepover--after Susan gave Zach "the talk" on Thursday.
***** *****
Zach refilled their glasses and brought them into the living room. He handed Susan's to her and sat down across from her in an armchair. She was on the couch.
"Susan, what's the absolute worst thing I could do to you?" He said it calmly. No preamble, straight to it. He'd planned it that way.
Then, not letting her reply, and ignoring her shocked look, he went on. "I mean besides something unthinkable, like killing you, or hurting the kids, or robbing a bank. Ridiculous things. Besides that, what would be the worst?"
Zach watched her face--saw the concern, the confusion. The next few minutes would show him who he was married to, he was convinced. Was Susan a selfish monster, or did she have a conscience?
"God, honey, I--I don't know. I guess...betray me? Abandon me, run off with another woman?" This was the best Susan could come up with. She'd been blindsided by his question, and all too aware of what she and Rob had been planning.
"Okay, I can see that." Zach was still calm, conversational. "Running off with someone and leaving you behind, that would be pretty awful.
"But what if it were just temporary--just an overnight, say? I tell you I'm going out on a date with someone, maybe a client I've met at work. No strings, no commitment, just sex; and then I come back to you, good as new. Would that be as bad?"
Susan burst into tears. She buried her face in her hands, sobbing. It was no longer possible to pretend, even to herself, that Zach didn't know about her and Rob, and their plans for that very weekend.
"Well, Susan? I'd like an answer, please." He still spoke quietly, but Susan could tell how furious he was. She glanced at him and he was practically vibrating with rage.
"Yes, Zach--that would still be bad. It would be horrible; I'd be devastated." She hiccupped, and wiped her tears off her face with her fingers.
"Tell me, please," he said. "Why would it be so bad?" He was not going to let her off the hook.
