‘What?’ she yells from the family room. ‘Can you come here?’ Blue-grey wall. White ceiling. White arm. Navy comforter. I hear footsteps coming...through the kitchen and a not so cordial, ‘What?’ I don’t want to freak her out so I decide to be discrete. ‘I need help finding my phone.’ I hear her laugh. She must think I’m pathetically hung over. I hear her enter my room and her phone rings. ‘What up, girl?’ Jesus, I’m in hell. Can’t she tell that I need help? I imagine myself foolishly splayed. That made it a little easier on me. She showed up the following Monday and asked me why I didn't call her over the weekend. I explained to her that the date was a mistake and I was married which she already knew. She explained that she didn't love me but that she just liked to play around. She closed my office door and locked it and came around to my side of the desk. She took my hand and put it on her thigh. I couldn't help it as I slid my hand up her thigh to pay dirt. She had removed her. More

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