"Why, of all days, do we have to come here?" whined Maggie. She pouted, slumped down in her seat, seat belt still strapped securely across her bosom.
"Because," barked Harry. "This is the only available appointment that he had and I'm not going through another week of your bullshit." The warning bell of the sedan pinged as he sat with one foot out the door. "This is the last step, before we end up in court, and if you don't get out the goddamn car," he turned to look at his wife of the past decade, "I'm filing as soon as I get back from Florida."
Maggie spun in her seat and glared at her husband. "You can't be serious."
"Try me." With that, he got out of the car, slamming the door and ceasing the annoying bell.
Maggie sat in the car for a minute longer, watching him dodge raindrops as he made his way to the front of the office building. Not one to show much emotion, she unbuckled her safety belt and got out of the car and followed him inside.
What was supposed to be a romantic Valentine's Day dinner, turned in a surprise ambush as Harry passed the restaurant and ended up at a nondescript office building on the opposite end of town. He announced that they had an appointment with a relationship counselor. Maggie knew that there were serious problems in their marriage, but she didn't think that he would choose today of all days to work on it.
Like a loved one dying on your birthday or Christmas, seeking therapy for your relationship on Valentine's Day was egregious in her book. The look in his eyes told here that he was serious about the threat of filing for divorce. She loved Harry, but couldn't stand to around him anymore. It was worse in the bedroom. Him climbing on top of her at a moments whim, ragged breathing and jerky humping, leaving her to sleep in the puddle of his release. She might have gotten more pleasure if he used his fingers, at least she could feel that. Appearances were deceiving. Harry had a slender dick, that bent to the left when he was fully engorged, but it seemed to disappear right before penetration. She moaned, not from the sex, but from the pain of her pelvis being banged with his. Just once, she wanted to be filled to the brim, to feel herself stretched to the breaking point.
Wiping away the raindrops from her forehead, Maggie bumped into Harry in the lobby. He was studying the directory, looking for a name. With a snap of his fingers he said, "Aha." and strode toward the bank of elevators, not bothering to see if she was behind him. Reluctantly, she followed, the click of her pumps echoing in the empty hall.
Harry pushed the button for the top floor and hummed to himself. He was at his wits end a week ago, drowning his sorrow in a tumbler of Scotch at the corner bar, when approached by a stranger about his dour mood. Whether it was the copious amount of liquor consumed or the easy demeanor of his new friend, Harry spilled his guts. When all was said and done, he had a business card pressed into his palm and a standing appointment to "get to the bottom of it." Now, he was rocking back and forth on his heels, trying to will the elevator to move faster.
He didn't even ask Maggie what she thought, he just knew that this had to happen.
The elevator car slowed to a stop and the metal doors slid open. Harry practically leaped out and began looking for the office.
"Harry, wait for me." said Maggie, but he was already down the hallway, neck craning left and right. She stood in the hallway, hands on her hips, frustrated at his demeanor. He was to the point of frantic as he scanned the doors left and right.
"You must be Margaret." said a voice behind her, making her shriek. She almost stumbled, but a quick hand on her elbow, steadied her. "Hello. I didn't mean to startle you." The voice belong to a older man, tall and olive in complexion. He grip on her arm was firm, but yielding. She stared into his gray eyes and saw the answers to all her problems. Without another thought, she shook his hand, felt her lips turn up into a smile. She didn't bother to correct him on the formal pronouncement of her name that she hasn't used since middle school.
"It'll be okay, that I promise you." He guided her to a corner office and ushered her inside. Once she was seated in the plush leather couch, he excused himself and went of in search of her spouse.
Maggie felt unusually relaxed as she settled back into the thick leather of the chaise. The thick smell of incense enveloped the room and she breathed deep. Her eyes felt heavy and she considered taking a nap. The door opened again and the man returned with Harry in tow. Leading him the the spot next to Maggie, the man then pulled up a large leather chair of his own and took a seat. An Egyptian Mau pounced onto his lap, turning tight circles until it found a comfortable spot and settled down.
"I'm deathly allergic to cats, "said Maggie, almost as an afterthought. The man just smiled, nodded his head and shooed the feline away. With a quick condescending stare at her, it jumped down and ran behind the massive desk.
"I'm Madrid." he announced to the room. He stroked his salt and pepper beard and studied the couple for a few minutes. The only sound in the room was his breathing as stared at Harry, then at Maggie.
"From what I've learned from Harold, the sanctity of your marriage is at an end."
"Yeah, yeah," Harry spoke up from his quiet slumber. The somber mood in the room began to fill with tension as he sat up and began to make his case. A corporate lawyer by day, he was crafted in the art of selling his side of the story.
With a simple wave of his hand, Madrid stopped him before he could begin.
"I'll ask the questions, if you please."
Maggie kept staring at the older gentleman, unsure of why she wanted to tell him everything, but sure that nothing was going to be held back.
"Harold, have you sought physical pleasure outside of the confines of Margaret?"