The Art of The Affair

8

I'd needed a distraction that evening when I got home.  After looking around online for a while, I found a couple of highly-rated companies, and then set an alarm on my phone to wake me earlier than usual so that I could call and get estimates.  I'd texted Ron about the idea but he hadn't answered by the time I'd gone to bed.  His reply had been sent just after 4 am.

Good idea.  Just let me know how it's going once it's up and running.

There had been a second message sent just after that.

Don't forget.  Lunch with the folks tomorrow.

I'd forgotten.  It was the first time an event of any kind - family or not - had slipped my mind. 

His alarm went off as I was blow-drying my hair in front of the mirror with a round brush.  As Katie had suggested, I used a round brush as I worked.  It was my first time trying the straightening technique out on my wild, curly hair.  It was a good outlet for the frustration that had carried over from last night.  When I was finished, I was pleased with the way it turned out. Ron had merely passed by silently, without commenting.  

I nearly selected some of my old clothes to wear out of habit, but when I realised what I was doing, I retracted my hand and reached for the new navy and white striped dress that was stretchy and comfortable, yet hugged my curves.  I chose a blue denim jacket to wear with it, and today I would be able to try it out.  It seemed like the perfect choice: not too risque, but certainly curve-hugging and more fun than my usual choices.

I'd also picked up a new pair of strappy sandals that looked pretty instead of clunky like my Birkenstocks.  I'd worried that they wouldn't be as comfortable but I was willing to suffer a little discomfort.

Ron still hadn't acknowledged the changes by the time we'd left.  That wouldn't happen until he'd steered the car out of the city limits and into less traffic.  He'd posed his inquiry into the changes I'd made as curious, harmless questions.  I knew better.  He was quiet the rest of the drive, choosing to turn on the radio instead of chatting.  I kept my chin high and for once, I didn't apologise or reassure.  

His silence only gave me the chance to reevaluate last night's complex exchange with Malfoy.  I went over and over it all and couldn't come to a different conclusion.  I'd been attracted to him.  I'd felt it.  It had happened.  Now it was time to figure out how to keep things from getting weird.

It helped that we didn't like each other, but perhaps that was part of the problem.  Maybe I enjoyed going toe-to-toe with someone instead of the sulking and being moody or silent.  He also didn't patronize me, which was something I wasn't used to.  

I also couldn't stop thinking about the way he perceived me.  I was so used to being liked for who I was that it genuinely bothered me that he had such a strong negative opinion of me.  I didn't know why it even mattered.  I couldn't get his words out of my head.  Worse, I couldn't get his voice out of it.

Why are you trying to figure out what makes me tick, or who I am and what I'm not? Why am I in your head?

I silently cringe and mentally shake myself for doing it again.  I try to think about something else but I can't.  I shift in my seat a little as his voice and even his cologne relentlessly continue to plague me.  My cheeks are flushed when we arrive, and after greetings are exchanged, I slip into the downstairs bathroom to empty my bladder.  As I dry myself with a section of paper, I can feel how wet I am.

I flush even more deeply as I wash my hands and stare at my reflection.  The purple eyeshadow now seems to be a colour that's suited for the adulterous more so than for the brown-eyed.

I'd already endured having a fuss made over my appearance.  It continued off and on through the time we were there.  At least the attention was over something different this time. 

On the way home, Ron finally complimented my appearance.  He'd reached for my hand and I'd known it was his way of apologising for not saying so any sooner.  I was relieved that the issue of wondering how bad his reaction was going to be was now over, but I didn't want to hold his hand.

That evening, as I watched a film and he stared at his phone, I decided to ask him about what Malfoy had said.

"Can I ask you something?"  When he hummed in the affirmative, I asked if he worked so much because he didn't want to be around me.  He lowered his phone and a funny look came over his face.

"No," he chuckled with his usual lopsided grin.  "Why, what on Earth made you think that?  Kinda funny, actually.  That's a lot of trouble to go to just to avoid your wife."  He lifted his arm and draped it over my shoulders.  "You know Mum and Dad thought this was a waste of the settlement money.  I just don't want to fail and them to be right.  I also have to look out for George, you know?  I don't know what he'd do if he didn't have his pub to run."

I went back to watching the film and he went back to surfing on his phone, but I didn't feel better.  I'd known for a while now that I'd made a mistake by marrying Ron, and that I was going to have to live with it.  Now I was wondering how I was going to live with it.