Mike and I had met a couple of years after college. I had spent my whole life in Indiana, so after college I'd decided to move somewhere exotic. For reasons I can't explain, Ohio became that exotic place. I'd been teaching at the local community college and working on my master's degree and everything seemed good. I dated a few guys, but nothing ever came of it. Then I met Mike.
I was out with my grad school friends, having a few drinks at this hole-in-the-wall in Columbus. It was my turn to buy, and so I walked up to the bar, and there he was—the most charming, attractive man I had seen in a long, long time. We became friends at first, but it quickly turned into something else. When we weren't together, we spent every moment talking to or thinking about the other. And the sex was incredible. While my experience had been limited to half a dozen men, most of them were horrible in bed. Mike was different. He had experience, like he had been trained by a stable of upscale prostitutes before being released into the world.
Within a year we were married, and for ten years we were happy. I never wanted anyone else. Or so I thought. Mike was my best friend, my lover, the father of my beautiful children. Then he got his dream job. (Cue ominous music.)
At first I was so happy for my husband. He had worked hard to get this job, and it suited him perfectly. I was able to go part-time and spend more time with the kids. We moved into a big house, the kind we'd always dreamed of.
But something changed after six months on the job. He started working longer hours, talking only about work every minute we were together. He insisted he wasn't having an affair with a woman, but with his job. Then came sobbing, repentant phone calls from a secretary and a copywriter. They had names. I refused to remember them. Mike insisted that was all in the past. My affair with Nick reminded me that we had problems. This trip confirmed it.
* * *
"Do you feel guilty?" I asked Alan. We were watching the kids play in the fountain the next afternoon. It had taken me half a day to get the courage to ask him.
He shook his head. "No. And I expected to. You?"
"Not really. But I didn't feel guilty about Nick either." It was true. The lack of guilt bothered me more than what I'd done.
Alan clasped my hand. "I felt guilty when I was younger, when I cheated on you. But not today. All I can think about is how fantastic it was, and how to keep from getting an erection here in public."
I laughed. "You're driving me crazy."
His face turned serious. "One thing I am worried about though, is birth control."
I put my hand on his thigh. (I really wanted to stroke it.) "It's alright. I had my tubes tied after the twins." What a weird thing to say! Next I'd be telling him about the wart on my foot and that Cheetos made me gassy.
Alan smiled. "Tell me more about Nick. I have a feeling you left something important out."
I swallowed hard and turned to look at the kids. He was right; I had left out one or two things.
Alan turned my face toward his. "What is it?"
My voice was unsteady. "That I was falling in love with him."
He searched my face for more, his eyes roving the landscape of my eyes. It was the truth. And I think he knew that.
"It started before we made love," I began hesitantly. "Afterward, I realized how dangerous my feelings were, so I tried to end it."
Alan's voice was quiet, and I wondered what was going on in his head. "Why?"
I pulled back from his gaze, looking at our hands, clasped in my lap. "I don't know. He was smart, funny, but very quiet…no, introspective. It was more than just a sexual attraction, at least for me."
"You never talked to him about it?"
Again, I was unsure how much to reveal. "I didn't want to break up his marriage."
Alan's voice relaxed. "Do you wish you had told him?"
My heart jumped into my throat, forcing my eyes to water from the pain. "I can't really answer that."
Alan's index finger gently wiped a stray tear from my cheek. "I'm sorry. I ask too many nosy questions. I shouldn't pry." That same finger lifted my chin so he could look into my eyes. "Forgive me?"
I nodded. "I think it's just very emotional for me to talk about it. Hell, maybe I'm distracting myself from the more immediate danger."
He smiled. "And what is that?"
"You. Last night." The tears subsided, replaced by genuine fear. I was worried. Terrified really. "I mean, what have we done? And worse yet, why do I want to keep doing it?"
Alan's eyes grew dark. "I don't care, as long as I can make love to you again today."
I thought I was hyperventilating. My chest was heaving, like those women in romance novels, and now I knew why. There just wasn't room in there for all that I was feeling.
"Oh my God, Alan. I'm scared to death."
He nodded. "Me too. I don't know what this means, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stop."
For a moment, I was convinced he would take me right then and there. And part of me wanted him to. I was ready, no doubt about it. But we would probably get arrested. This was the place to bring a family, not necessarily make one in public. Chances are they didn't expect it to be the haven for adultery it had become for me.
Maybe they could launch a new marketing campaign; "The Adulterer's Guide to Family Vacations." Well, probably they'd have to distance themselves a bit. Use the word "Unofficial" to make it sound like they didn't sanction it. Hell, they could make millions.
"Laura?" Alan's voice brought me back from insanity. "Are you sure you don't feel bad about last night?"
"No. I feel very good about last night. And I find that more than a little disturbing."
He nodded. "I'll be right back." He stood to leave.
"Where are you going?"
Alan flashed me a smile, and I melted inside, "To make plans for tonight, of course." He winked and then disappeared into the crowd. I was torn between anticipation and dread. Ok, so it was like eighty percent anticipation and twenty percent dread, but that still counts. Right?