Quickies

sadness, fear, regret, love. So much love. Still. After all these years.

"I just want to know why, Molly."

That's when the dam broke. The leak became a deluge and she spilled past the cracks that I hadn't even seen in the surface of our marriage.

All these years…

What have I done?

I made your supper and your daughter and your son…*

"Do you remember last year, when my sister offered us her timeshare?"

I stared at Molly, knowing that she was going to make some impossible connection, and just nodded.

"What did you say, Jim? Do you remember?"

I shrugged. "What does that have to do with… anything?!"

Molly's lip trembled and she nodded. "You said, 'Why do we need to go somewhere for a vacation? What's wrong with staying home?'"

I blinked at her. "Are you telling me that you were fucking some suit in our bed because I didn't want to go to Disney World?"

Molly sighed, closing her eyes and then opening them to me again. "You always miss the point."

"I guess you got my fucking attention!" I snapped, gritting my teeth.

She sat up on her elbows, her eyes flashing. "Well, it's about time!"

My chest was too tight for me to speak. I curled my fingers around the mattress edge and took a deep breath.

"Jim…" Her eyes dipped down and caught mine. They were the same bright blue, eyes that had caught mine a thousand times before this one, but today there was something new there. I didn't know what it was and I didn't know if I wanted to know.

"Where have you been?"

I shook my head at her, trying to clear it. What did she want from me? "Work.

Where I always am." I couldn't get the image of her beneath him out of my head.

She sighed. "Yeah." Shifting onto her side, the sheet pulled over her hip, and her breasts dipped, too. I looked at the large, brown areolas, her nipples fat in the center,

and wondered if he had found that sweet spot at the bottom edge. I closed my eyes, hating how beautiful she still was to me in that moment.

"But Jim…" she sighed. "Where have I been?"

"I don't know," I murmured. "You tell me."

I felt her hand moving over mine, soft and warm, her fingers as delicate as ever.

"I don't know, either. Raising kids, making supper, the same thing, day after day… I don't know who I even am anymore…" I allowed it for a moment, just a moment's worth of pressured comfort, before shaking her loose.

"Maybe you need some time to find out?" I saw that there were tears in her eyes and only the smallest part of me cared. "Is this your version of a mid-life crisis, Moll?

The cooking lessons, the computer classes…" I stopped, something suddenly dawning on me. "That's where you met him, isn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed softly. "But it doesn't matter. He doesn't matter."

I snorted, swallowing past something stuck in my throat. "He looked like he mattered when he was fucking you in our bed."

I don't know if the pained look on her face matched mine or not. It felt awful, saying it, feeling it. I wanted to say more, and I wanted it to stop, to end it, to leave right now and never look back. Staying was the hardest thing I'd ever done.

Just sitting there in the pain of it, the both of us, drowning in the flood.

I'm still here…

And so confused,

But I can finally see how much I stand to lose…*

I don't know how long it was before we spoke again. It grew dark outside, dark inside, in spite of the lamp light. My belly ached, my balls were drawn up like two rocks,

and Molly shivered, but she still didn't cover herself. I thought I knew why. She just looked at me, like she was waiting for something. I was waiting, too. I didn't know for what, until it happened.

The timer in the kitchen sounded with three short, sharp blasts. Dinner was ready. Menu was on the fridge. It was time for me to walk through the door, home from work, ready for Molly's embrace and a quick kiss before I got changed and ready to eat whatever she'd concocted for the evening meal. I had taken to picking up two beef jerkys at the gas station and eating them on the way home, just in case. Of course, I didn't tell her that. Keeping the little things secret had never seemed to matter.

"I hate the crap you're cooking lately." I gave a quarter turn toward her on the bed.

She nodded. Almost smiled. "I know."

"I could kill you with my bare hands."

"I know." Her mouth trembled again, but no tears fell. "I thought… I don't know what I thought. I wasn't… thinking…" Her voice was thick, trembling, too.

"I want…" I held my hands out in front of me, palms up, just looking at them.

"Fuck, Molly… what are we going to do?"

She slipped her hand into one of mine, using my steadfast weight to pull her to sitting beside me, the sheet pooled in her lap.

"I don't know." Her voice was hoarse. "Will you hold me?"