The Fling

79

Abigail sat down on the edge of the bed looking completely defeated, and my heart sunk into my stomach as I prepared to hear her admit she'd had sex with Bert. "Was I wearing my light blue UCLA sweatshirt in the photo she showed you?" she asked.

That was exactly what she had on. I'd even made a mental note of it since it was her favorite hoodie, and I loved her in it. "Yes."

"I've seen the pic. Bert showed me the next day."

This wasn't what I expected to hear, and while it was a relief that she didn't confess she'd cheated on me, it made me angry that she hadn't mentioned this at some point over the past month. "You fucking knew there was a photo like this and didn't tell me?"

"It happened when we were on our break, and we weren't talking at that point. I'll tell you everything now, if you want." I nodded so she continued, "The kids were in bed, I took a gummy, and then I drank some Sauvignon Blanc. Am I proud of this? No, but I was really struggling with how things were between us and that it seemed very likely we were headed to an ending. I wanted to feel numb for a little while."

This fit with Reagan's story, so I sensed she was being truthful. "I get wanting to feel that way. I've been there many times myself, but why was Bert part of this?"

"He worked really late that night and came home to me in my inebriated condition. He asked if I was okay, and I started crying. I told him how I loved you but that things weren't going well and I was certain we close to breaking up. He drank a bourbon or two and listened to me vent without really saying much, other than the standard, 'Things will work out if you're meant to be.' I had another glass of wine, which was stupid, and then I fell asleep on his shoulder."

"That's all that happened?"

"Yes! I woke up alone on the couch, feeling pretty embarrassed, and went up to bed. He showed me the pic over coffee the following morning. Back when we were married, I had a habit of falling asleep while we watched TV, usually leaned against him, and he sometimes took a photo because he thought it was funny. It was like that."

"So you did a cute couply thing you used to do? Got it," I said bitterly, knowing I was letting my jealousy get the best of me.

"I guess it was like that, but it wasn't romantic. Nothing happened, Shawn."

Something occurred to me. "If you were passed out for hours, how do you know nothing happened? What if he did something to you without you knowing?"

"First off, Bert is many terrible things, but he's not a rapist. Secondly, I wasn't passed out; I was asleep. Thirdly, if we'd had sex, I would have known."

"How? You think you were asleep, but how do you know you didn't black out? He could have done it, cleaned you up, and gotten you dressed afterwards."

She chewed her lip for a second. "Sex with Bert was often uncomfortable for me for a whole bunch of reasons. The next day I was always very aware because I was very sore."

So that fucker had a huge dick? My insecurities swelled up like a tidal wave again. "I guess it's great that you don't have that problem with me," I spat.

"Please don't do that."

"Do what?"

"Turn this into being about you. I've told you repeatedly that sex with you is the best I've ever experienced. You are the perfect partner in every single way, and you know you've made me sore because it's come up. You asked me how I'd know if he did anything, so I answered honestly."

I was still standing across the room from her, and I knew the gap between us represented our emotional distance. In an effort to improve the situation, I approached the bed, kneeling in front of her. "You're right. I shouldn't have taken what you said personally. When you're a famous guy, women tend to tell you you're the best because they think that's what you want to hear. I know I'm not packing like some dudes are, and I always worry that I don't compare to them. One reason I work so hard at giving you pleasure is because I'm scared that if I don't do everything I can for you, you'll think I'm inadequate. Hearing you say that Bert left you sore every time triggered my insecurities, which is a me-problem, not a you-problem."

Abigail cupped her hands around my jaw. "Thank you for being vulnerable and honest, but there is nothing about you that's inadequate. You're an amazing person in so many ways and you have changed my life by making me happier than I ever thought I could be." She paused for a brief moment. "But you need to understand that this lack of trust is hurtful to me. You should have brought up the photo immediately so we could talk about it. You've accused me of fucking Bert twice in the last twenty-four hours and it's not okay."

I stood up. "It's not, and I need to figure out what's going on in my head, because I don't want to hurt you more than I have." I went to my suitcase and grabbed my gym shoes. "Maybe a run on the treadmill will help."

"You're literally running away."

"No, Abigail, I'm trying to give us some space so we can work on our problems on our own."

She threw her hands in the air. "What problems do I have to work on? Since I've arrived at this resort I have been accused of cheating by my ex-husband's soon-to-be-ex-wife, and then my boyfriend chose to believe her over me! Twice! I'm dealing with Bert in the meantime, while walking on eggshells around you, because you get mad every time he is mentioned!"

"How about the problem of letting Bert do whatever he wants with zero consequences?"

"Do you really believe he hasn't had consequences? He lost a fortune along with his wife, his boss knows he's in financial trouble which is humiliating, he had to move back in with his ex, and he's going to grovel to his parents so that he can live with them. He's miserable!" She held a hand up, "Before you say it, I know he brought this on himself, but I'm allowed to have some empathy for him. Even if I don't love him the same way anymore, he was my husband and he's the father of my children!"

"We're not having this fight again," I stated. "You've told me many times why he's still living with you, and while I don't see it as justified, it's not my call to make. I am, however, allowed to not like it."

"Shawn, he's leaving soon. There's no reason to get into this again."

"I won't believe that until he's gone. And while I get that your drunken snugglefest wasn't sexual, it still makes me really uncomfortable. If you saw a photo of me sleeping in another girl's arms, maybe you'd see why I don't like it and why it made me question my trust in you."

"If you had a reasonable explanation, I'd accept it. I would feel jealous, but my faith in you is strong enough that I could handle it," she told me.

I rolled my eyes. "It's easy to say that when it hasn't happened to you."

"Last month, when you called and told me you were hit on in the bar, what was my response?"

"You didn't seem concerned. You said we were on a break, and that I could have hooked up with her. I get the point you're making, but not caring is almost worse than being jealous. I wanted you to be a little bothered by it, which is why I told you."

"I wasn't bothered because you said you told her no!" she said with obvious frustration. "It would have been different if you fucked her, but technically we were on a break so I couldn't be mad, just hurt."

"I'd be very mad if you fucked someone during that break!" I countered. I could feel my veins popping in my neck, which happened when I was really worked up.

"Why are we fighting about hypotheticals? This is getting ridiculous! You go for your run since you need to blow off some steam; I'm going to go down to the pool like we originally planned." And with those words, Abigail got several things out of her suitcase and went into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

I quickly put on my athletic shoes, grabbed my AirPods, and left so that I wouldn't have to see her when she came out.