Phoenix Rising(2)

He smoothed the hair he’d mussed just seconds earlier. His good sense seemed to take over his bad temper, and his eyes roved the living room before drifting toward the foyer and rooms beyond. “Jessa, I’d like you to have the house. Ginny’s place is big enough for us. And we don’t want to uproot the kids.”

Ah, of course. Ginny’s darling children. A jolt hit Jessa’s midsection and she fought for her mask of indifference. His casual words downplayed something that had consistently reared its ugly head between them since the early years of their marriage.

“Is this really about our sexual incompatibility, Will? Am I really that awful in bed?”

Whatever he’d been about to articulate never made it out of his mouth. He was obviously trying to decide how much he should say out loud. “It isn’t that.”

“Then what is it?”

He shrugged, “It’s hard to put into words.”

“Try.”

“You’re very inhibited. You don’t want to try anything new.”

Jessa was taken aback. She’d always figured trying new things fell under the heading of inappropriate sluttiness. And Will, selfish as he was, knew nothing about the wild thoughts that sometimes ran rampant through her mind.

“Is that it?”

“You seem bored,” he offered.

“I am.” Jessa was more surprised by this admission than he was. That was the truth behind her self-repression. She was bored by sex. It was messy, inconvenient, and generally unsatisfying. It didn’t seem to matter what they did. It all ended up the same way. She laid there and he shot a wad of cum into her unresponsive body.

“Does Ginny like foreplay?” Jessa felt compelled to ask.

“Uh, yeah, I guess she does.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, didn’t you?”

It was her turn to shrug. “Not really.”

Jessa said it knowing that it wasn’t the foreplay she didn’t like. She’d always held the belief that foreplay was what you made of it. And Will’s idea of foreplay was the systematic use of her body to get him excited. That just didn’t do it for Jessa.

“Look, Jessa, I need to get back to the hotel…”

She waved her arms to encompass the living room. “You don’t even want to stay in this house anymore?”

“It isn’t like we’ve enjoyed each other’s company lately, Jessa. The hotel is closer to the airport.” He glanced down uncomfortably. “It’s a holiday weekend, anyway, and Ginny didn’t want me to, uh, stay here anymore.”

She laughed. She couldn’t help it. She laughed hard, until the tears ran down her face and smeared her eye makeup beyond repair. He’d been screwing Ginny for ten months. His job, that six-figure job he’d always said was the milestone they needed to reach financial security, made it easy for him. Will was one hundred percent travel. He flew out on Monday morning, spent Monday through Thursday night with Ginny and the darling children. And then flew home on Fridays. She’d known what was going on all that time. He’d told her. He’d claimed there was no need to lie about it. As far as he and his buddies were concerned, infidelity was the price of marrying a rich man. So Jessa, dutiful wife and helpmate, had figured it was some kind of mid life crisis thing he’d get over sooner or later.

Apparently, she was wrong. Way, way wrong.

Will crossed the living room, entered the foyer, and headed for the bedroom. Jessa followed, watching him pull two suitcases from a shelf and place them on the padded bench inside the walk-in closet.

So used to doing the necessary without being asked, Jessa wordlessly removed his starched business shirts from their hangers and began to fold them neatly. The rhythm of the familiar activity set in, and she gathered matching socks and boxer shorts before realizing what she was doing.

Did words like “helpmate” and “duty” even cover something so fundamentally disturbing? If you loved a man, could you help him pack his clothing to leave you for another woman? Did she love him? Or was it all just a habit?

It hurt a little more when he started packing personal items he apparently didn’t want to leave behind. But Jessa said nothing. There was nothing left to say. It was over. And maybe it had already been over long before he’d dropped the bombshell.

“I’ll call when I get to Richmond tomorrow.”

“Why?”

His face went blank. Had they really become such a habit? Was Jessa nothing more than the obligatory phone call?

She turned away from him and left their…her bedroom, pausing beside the floral arrangement in the foyer. She heard him do the same, the rollers of his suitcase trundling across the marble floor behind her and stopping at the front door.