Page 72 of His First Wife

“Stop,” he said, cutting me off. “You don’t need to explain your life path to me. I’m just some dude you used to date. No need to explain.”

We both stood there laughing for a minute.

“But I can tell you’re coming from somewhere.” He looked me over again.

“Well, if you must know,” I said, “I just got an internship with the Department of Social Services. I start helping them next month.” I was so proud to hear those words coming from my mouth. Now I’d have something to say when people asked me what I was doing. I wouldn’t have to appear “made busy” by things around me—not Jamison, not the house. I had a job.

“Wow, that’s cool,” he said. “Sounds like you’re on your way to my side of the game. Service!” He held up his hand and I gave him a high five. “That was weak! You just got a job. You better slap this hand again.” He put his hand up again and I jumped up to slap it like I’d just made a winning touchdown. “That’s right, woman!”

“Yeah,” I said playfully.

“Now, the only thing you need to do next to make the celebration complete is to meet me for dinner.”

“Dinner?” I asked. I hadn’t had dinner with any man but my husband since . . . since . . . ever.

“Yes, a meal to celebrate your new job. I insist,” he said. “Now, I know you’re married. But this is strictly me trying to catch up with an old college acquaintance and make up for grabbing your crotch.”

“You’re crazy,” I said.

“But I’m serious.” The smile left his face. “I’m not that man anymore. I’m a new person. I want to show you and do a little bit of celebrating. Strictly platonic. Nothing to tell your husband.”

“You promise?” I asked before realizing that I w

as accepting. Was I accepting? Hell, I needed to get out for one night. Without Marcy around I needed someone to talk to. I was tired of cleaning up vomit and changing diapers. I wanted to feel like a real adult for just an hour or so. I was still young and sexy and if Preston could see it, so be it. I had no intentions of sleeping with him or even seeing him again after that evening.

“I promise,” he said. “Look, I’ll be waiting at the Four Season in midtown at 7 PM. If you come, you come. If not,” he reached into his pocket, “you have my card, and you can call me if you ever need anything. Sound fair?”

“Yes,” I said, taking the card.

“Great.” He took my left hand and kissed it softly. “See you later,” he said.

EMAIL TRANSMISSION

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

DATE: 12/16/07

TIME: 7:15 AM

So, it’s been a few weeks since I’ve heard your voice. Well, I have heard you speak when I visit Tyrian or when I call to say I’m on my way, but you’re not really speaking to me, as much as you are tolerating my existence. I know that you have every right to be angry with me, but not hearing your voice or speaking to you is killing me slowly. Not having my wife and baby in the house just hurts. And I’m man enough to say that I cried and I even drove past the hotel you were staying at a few times. I don’t even feel like I have a right to complain to you, but I have to say something. I have to do something to fix this. The only thing I could think to do right now, at least to begin to open the lines of communication, was to write to you. The funny thing, though, is that this is your old work e-mail and I don’t know if you check it anymore. I don’t even know if you have another e-mail address. Either way, I hope this reaches you and I want you to know that I miss you and Tyrian so much. Please come home.

EMAIL TRANSMISSION

TO: [email protected]

FROM: [email protected]

DATE: 12/16/07

TIME: 11:22 AM

I find it entertaining that you should decide to contact me in the very fashion that you used to contact Coreen. Don’t you get tired of e-mailing people? Let’s hope you don’t mistakenly send me a message that was meant for her. Maybe you should’ve been writing your wife all along. And as far as me coming home, I need you to know that’s going to take a lot more than some text on a computer screen. I’m really, really upset right now. Your betrayal of our family was unacceptable. And I resent you more than I could’ve imagined. WHAT DID I DO TO DESERVE ANY OF THIS? I was nothing but a good wife to you. And to add to that, you went behind my back to visit my father, claiming I “was too weak to take it.” No, you’re weak and if I was, as my husband, it was your job to build me up. NOT sneak around behind my back. That hurts and it’s a slap in the face. So, I really can’t be concerned with your feelings right now. You can save them. What’ll bring me home?

TRY A MIRACLE.

The No-Tell Motel