Chapter 2
It was mostly quiet in the car while we drove home. I am still feeling the burn of guilt deep in my gut. What I did in that bathroom with Willow was definitely cheating.
“Did you enjoy your games with Paul,” I asked softly not being able to think of anything else to break the silence. “I always enjoy my time with Paul! He seems to get me more than anyone I know,” she told me in her annoying self-righteous tone.
Of course she feels a connection with my brother who became a football coach and PE teacher at the local high school. Sometimes I feel that she would have been better off if she married Paul instead of me.
“Gee, how nice that he connects with you so much better than I do. I’m just your husband,” I told her tersely. “It’s just a different type of connection. He acts so mature for his age. I’m sometimes surprised that HE isn’t the older brother.” The words were like a slap in the face.
“Oh, so now I’m just your immature husband,” I rasped. “That’s not what I said,” she retorted as if annoyed that I misunderstood her. “He just seems more grounded. Like he has a real plan for where he is going in his life.” Another slap in the face.
“Oh, so since I’m just a lowly writer, I’m not grounded and I’m just feckless and afloat with no clue of where I’m going in life,” I snarled.
“I didn’t say that,” she hissed. “No, you never say anything straight out. You always use your fucking passive aggressive inferences and innuendos,” I raised my voice.
“You don’t need to use coarse language. You were educated better than that,” Gwen hissed.
“And I’ll thank you to not raise your voice at me that way,” she added.
“Oh, so I’m supposed to be okay that you think my younger brother is more mature and better grounded than I am,” I snarled.
“I think the way you are acting now speaks for itself,” she told me curtly.
Right now I am so livid that all thoughts of guilt vanish. “Fuck you Gwen,” raced across my mind. I waited till we got home to say anything else. I raced to my den and printed out a copy of my bank account.
“There!” I shouted as I slapped the copy of my account in front of her. “This is how immature and ungrounded I am,” I rasped making her look at my net worth.
“So what? This doesn’t mean you are mature and having money doesn’t mean that you are grounded. “Oh? So the fact that I chose NOT to be a teacher means that I’m not grounded. Because I don’t do some sort of service work I am not mature?” I growled.
“I don’t have a clue why you married such a poor excuse of a man as me,” I shouted. “You should have married coach Paul. I’m sure HIS education was much better than mine,” I groused.
Before Gwen could say anything to piss me off anymore, I left the room and locked myself in my huge den.
It was almost 3 hours later when Gwen softly knocked on my door.
“It’s time for dinner dear,” she called though the door.
“I’m not hungry,” I growled. “Oh come on Jack. You have to eat,” she persisted. “I’ll get a snack later,” I said.
I was thankful when I checked in the bottom drawer of my desk that there was a snack bar and a couple of bags of chips still in my little stash. I also found my fifth of whiskey. I didn’t drink too much since I got busy writing on my current sexy romance story.
As I wrote a steamy sex scene, my mind wandered to the hot sex I’d had in the bathroom this afternoon. Truth be told, it was the best sex I’ve had in years. Maybe since before I got married even.
In my gut, I know that some of my anger at Gwen this evening was a cover-up for the guilt that is burning inside of me. But it is also true that Gwen has not been a very attentive wife when it comes to our sex life in quite some time.