Twisted Knot

Just a piece of pie

     I sat at the diner with tears and rain all over my face. It always rained in Seattle, I told myself, and the weather is not mocking me. I should have grabbed my compact and checked my reflection, but I didn't see the point. My husband had rejected me, and I would probably die alone. How did I get so sad and pathetic? I stared at my coffee and tried to hold back the tears, not wanting to "ugly cry" in public. I heard the bell chime on the diner door, and I turned to see him walk in. Relief flooded my body as Paul walked towards me, looking worried.

"I hope you weren't on a date," I said. "I am sorry to call you."

I choked down another sob that tried to escape. Damn my rogue emotions.

"I was at home," Paul said. "And you can always call me. What is wrong?"

"It's my husband," I said. "He...He had an affair. And I confronted him, and he didn't even apologize. God, I am so stupid. I thought we had this fairytale romance, but he doesn't even love me."

"Wow I am sorry," Paul said, reaching out to touch my hand. "But I am sure he loves you. He'd be crazy not to."

"Have you ever cheated before? Can a person do that and still love their partner?"

    "I haven't, and I don't know," Paul said. "But I wouldn't make any decisions tonight."

"You know it's been two months since we had sex," I blurted out, not looking up. "I thought he was just busy at work. God, I am so foolish. Of course he was getting his needs met, whereas I was lonely. The other day I got angry when I was shopping because I felt like the kielbasas was laughing at me."

"Mocked by grocery store sausages," Paul chuckled. "How are you cute, even now? God, your husband is insane..." I nodded.

"Yes he is," I said. "But what can I do? We have Jeremy, and I won't break up our family. So I can be unhappy forever, I guess, never knowing if my husband loves me or is screwing the maid..."

"It's 2014, sweetie," Paul said. "Divorce would be hard, but letting your son see you stay in a broken marriage is not much better. I think your son will be OK, as long he knows he is your priority."

"So you think I should leave him?" I asked quietly.

I couldn't leave him, but I couldn't tell Paul why. Some secrets need to stay buried, and that was what would shackle me to my marriage.

     "You can't ask me that," Paul said, looking down at his lap. "I am not unbiased. But I will be your friend no matter what you decide."

"At least I can count on that," I said. Paul smiled and signaled the waitress.

"Miss," he said quietly. "We need pie. Lots and lots of pie."

"Blueberry, coconut, pumpkin, chocolate..." She began to list flavors.

"Coconut for her, and chocolate for me," Paul said.

Did Stefan know what pie I liked? Of course he did. We'd been married for nine years. And in that time he had mostly ignored me or treated me with a distant, calculated love. God, how long had I been unhappy and denying it? I was screwed, and Paul's winsome smile was making things more difficult. Maybe I needed to Google emotional affair again, just to keep myself in check.

The pie came and we talked, sharing non-emotional stories. After a while, I knew we had to leave.

"Thank you, Paul," I said. He just looked at me and silence followed as we stopped outside the diner, hiding beneath umbrellas. "I needed you tonight."

    After I said the words, I regretted them. His eyes shifted, and I knew the tone of my voice, the look in my eyes, the words I had said were giving the wrong impression. Paul looked back at me and suddenly the veil we held was removed. That look was a smoldering stare, and there was no platonic dialogue or cordial distance. Paul leaned over, and I knew he was going to kiss me. I should have stopped him, but I didn't have the resolve. Paul's lips crushed against mine, my senses tingling and stars fluttering against my eyes. I wanted to resist more, but I didn't want to. I hadn't been kissed like that in nine years, and it felt nice to remember the feeling. The last time Stefan had really kissed me, he'd seemed distant and unenthusiastic. God, I felt wanted with Paul, and Stefan made me feel...

    I pushed back, coming to my senses. "Oh God, Paul, I am so sorry."

"No," he said. "I am sorry. You're vulnerable, and I took advantage of you. Forget that ever happened."

I nodded, still feeling his lips on mine. My stomach was all topsy-turvy as he turned to leave.

"I'm there if you need me," Paul said before waving goodbye.

I took a deep breath and walked down the street. There was a nice hotel a block from the diner, and I walked in through the lobby, feeling at peace. I approached the concierge and smiled.

"Is there any chance you have an open room tonight?" I asked.

She clicked away on her keyboard, and I waited. They had a penthouse suite open, and I took it. I also booked a massage in the morning. There were some benefits to having a rich and cheating husband, like unlimited platinum visas and the power of guilt.