The Love Affair

Chapter Seven

So, how was I supposed to react? Make a scene and therefore bring attention to the sudden erratic behaviour our neighbour was giving me? Nick wouldn't forgive me, nor would I forgive myself. As much as I hated how Shane had dished out loose hints throughout the evening, I knew I had no power in the situation unless I wanted Nick to know that something had happened. Or at least how my neighbour was flirting with me. Even if I was trying to feel less guilt by attempting to push all blame onto him than myself, despite knowingly knowing I could have easily brought the matter to hands and stopped this chaos. And there was that shadow of guilt mixed with temptation following me. But you are attracted to the chaos. It's exciting and different. You're going to destroy Nick. You're are going against your morals.

Shane hadn't made any forward attempts to me, so I was content that once he'd left our home, I could relax for some while. Even if it only lasted for this remaining night.

Nick as usual was oblivious to my fighting thoughts, helping me with the dishes as he passed them over. I stood at the sink, massaging the sponge around the plate feeling soap studs move between my fingers. It was odd how once before this abrupt mess, I could stand here thinking how therapeutic washing dishes was, but now I faced an awkward dilemma making me feel in the shoes of a stranger. I felt detached from myself. No, it wasn't to say that I was chained to housework, no, Nick and myself were equal partners, but the daily aspect of it, felt alien. It felt like a lie. Washing up a metaphor to my attempt at clearing the mess, attempting to clear my head and life that I knew was no longer content towards. And Shane had only bought it ahead. It was a problem before he came. Was that was I what I was trying to say? All these thoughts could combust. I just didn't know what I was thinking anymore. I hated myself for these feelings. It wasn't fair on Nick, but it certainly wasn't fair on the marriage itself including me.

"So, that was a nice get together," he stated, passing me another dish, specifically the plate Shane had eaten off. Strangely enough, it felt like his presence lingered within the ceramic dish making me feel flustered that I had contemplated the idea of food entering his mouth, the exact mouth and lips I had shamefully studied. The best way to a man's heart, is food, hadn't they always said. It made the question of intimacy metaphorical.

"Yeah, it was alright," I replied, keeping my opinions away from the conversation.

"I think it's nice I'll have a friend just next door. Don't you?" Nick smiled taking the wet dishes and drying them with the tea towel he picked up off the side.

"Y-yeah," I managed to say, knowing that wasn't the case on how I felt towards their new-found possible relationship. I didn't want Shane and Nick to get close. I wanted them as distant as possible. 

***

It was around two in the morning, I hadn't even shut an eye. As usual, my nagging insomnia kept me up and about however instead of having anxiety towards my unhappiness, I was worrying about the Shane situation. And that also involved the work I had been staring at, reading over and over as if I'd discover something new or a logical answer. I had also tried in that time to figure out another plot, something else I could use to replace the one I knew was ultimately a price of my temptation. Nonetheless, this new idea wasn't surfacing, instead it would only fester for the one I'd had constantly on my mind.

I clicked onto Twitter, reading through the feed and answering as I went along. Then with a cautious look to the study's door, I opened up another tab quickly typing Shane's name. Nick had told me his full name, Shane Weston, something I had secretly mentally noted earlier after casually bringing up the topic to the conversation. Ahead of me, there was a profile linked to the page of a catering company just as he'd said, and just as he'd told me, he was a very influential man needing less hours at the office. He was the company's second director. My eyes traced the photo next to the body of text. It was him. Those brown eyes, dangerous and seducing, his tousled brown locks slicked back and the inviting subtle smirk dancing on his lips. Lips, I wanted to taste. Stop it, I told myself. I clicked back on the browser, stumbling then to a direct link to what I could only assume was his Facebook. It was him. The cover photo was a typical holiday pic to where I could only presume was a tropical beach destination from the sight of the evening sun and ocean waves. His profile photo had me gushing; black ray bans sunglasses, shirtless and in khaki shorts holding an alcoholic beverage in his hand. I stared longer than I should have, admiring his muscular physique. He was literally a model. His body was beyond different to Nick's, who was slimmer and less muscular. I had always told Nick if he ever gotten the dad body (if that was ever the case if we had children) I'd still find him attractive and sexy. Probably back when I was more committed to our marriage and not questioning its existence as I had been doing, now I had confessed it aloud in my mind.