Page 26 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

Me: I missed you this weekend. Can’t wait for tonight!

That lack of response caused a twinge of concern, which I resolutely pushed away. Melanie and her colleagues had been running ragged to prepare for that big presentation, and if her day was anywhere as busy as mine had been, she probably hadn’t had a moment to breathe, let alone exchange idle texts with me.

Me: I’m leaving the office now. I can’t wait to see you!

Pulling out of the parking lot, I decided to stop by the florist to pick up some flowers. It had been far too long since I’d surprised her with a bouquet, something I used to do every couple of months. My mental tally of all the things I’d let slide was adding up.

My cell phone rang a few minutes later, and I hesitated when I saw Mitch’s name flash on my dashboard screen. After everything that had happened this weekend, he was the last person I wanted to talk to right now.

I let the call go to voicemail, and moments later my phone chimed with a message. I pressed the button to listen to it through Bluetooth, only to instantly regret it.

“Hey, man, I just wanted to see how things went with the wife last night, and make sure your balls are still intact. Call me.”

I clenched my jaw so hard that it ached, then forced myself to relax. That guy could be such an asshole that I sometimes wondered why we were even friends.

“I definitely need to buy Mel some flowers to thank her for putting up with him, if nothing else.” I resolutely pushed any thoughts of what else I needed to make up for out of my mind, and moments later, turned into the parking lot of the flower shop I’d used for years.

Dorothy, the elderly owner, greeted me like a long lost friend.

“It’s good to see you! It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

I sheepishly admitted that it had been far too long, then told her I needed a bouquet for Melanie. “Something bright, since it’s so gray and gloomy outside,” I instructed.

“Is this for a special occasion?” She prodded with a gentle smile on her lined face.

I shook my head. “No, I just realized I haven’t bought her flowers in a while.”

“Ah, I call those ‘just-because flowers’. Those are my favorite kinds to sell. The recipients are so happy to receive them just because someone was thinking of them.”

She went into the back room and returned several minutes later with a vase of colorful blooms, mostly pinks and purples, and prattled on about what each flower was as she rang me up.

“Have a good evening and give your wife my best.”

Once I was back in the car with the vase safely buckled into the passenger seat, I checked my phone again, still vaguely uneasy that Mel hadn’t responded to my texts.

I put the car in gear and took a deep breath, reminding myself that everything was fine, and would remain that way as long as I kept a tight lid on my conscience.

“What happened in Vegas will stay in fucking Vegas,” I muttered. Pulling out into traffic, I ran through my plan. Dinner, reconnect, do better.

It wasn’t much of a plan, I had to admit, but it was a start.

My tension rose during the drive home, partly because Melanie still hadn’t responded, but mostly at the thought of looking my wife in the eye without flinching. Guilt gnawed at my gut, and I knew that was a feeling I would have to learn to live with.

“Just act normal,” I muttered to myself, tightening my grip on the steering wheel. “There’s no reason to tell her. What she doesn’t know, won’t hurt her.”

I repeated that last bit over and over, strengthening my resolve with each passing mile. I could do this. I had to. I owed it to my wife.

Chapter 9

Melanie

I dropped the pen – and by extension, the thong – onto the floor and sank down onto the edge of the bed. For a moment, my mind was blank, and I felt nothing. I was completely and utterly numb.

That reprieve didn’t last long. My stomach rolled and I made a mad dash to the bathroom as my delicious tearoom delicacies from lunch decided to make an appearance. I barely got the lid lifted on the toilet before I was retching into the bowl, emptying my stomach of its contents in a series of painful heaves that left me clinging to the cold porcelain.

After a minute or two, I flushed and carefully stood to make my way over to my sink, furiously rinsing my mouth before reaching for my toothbrush to do a more thorough job.

My hands were shaking and my insides were still clenching painfully as I set the toothbrush down on the counter. I raised my head and gazed blankly at myself in the mirror. My skin was deathly pale, aside from the red splotches highlighting my cheeks. Tears I hadn’t even been aware of streaked down my face, and my vision grew blurry as I stared at myself in horror.