I followed the sound of the hockey game into our bedroom last night. It’s the NHL playoffs and our home team was playing. I would never label myself a hockey fan but when you live in Boston you inherently become a Patriots/Red Sox/Celtics/Bruins fan. I stepped into the bedroom and saw my husband folding laundry with his eyes focused on the television. I had just come home and had two cocktails in me so I fell down onto the bed, atop all the laundry and positioned my head right under my husband’s crotch. In this moment I was teasing him, although if he asked me, I would have happily pleasured him. I looked up into his eyes as he dropped the t-shirt he was folding and placed his hands aside my head.
“I love this position,” I said.
“I’m not sure who enjoys it more,” my husband responded.
“Can you imagine a position we haven’t tried yet?”
He smiled and replied: “I don’t think there are any left. We’ve done everything I can think of.”
I smiled and rose to my knees to kiss his lips. My thoughts were drifting; after all, those two mojitos were floating through me. I felt good. I picked up a pair of black lace panties my husband recently gave me and displayed them on my fingertips for him. “I love these.” I remarked.
“I love taking them off of you,” he said.
And then, in a moment of cocktail euphoria, I began a conversation that had an uncharted course. “You know, if you had never met me you would never have seen a woman in panties like these. I mean, in real life. All your previous lovers wore cotton panties. I wonder how many men have never been with a woman wearing sexy panties. I just realized how many men don’t have the pleasure that you do.”
I kept folding laundry as I spoke and I heard a little voice in my head warn me: Watch where you are going. But I didn’t listen.
“I think we are lucky. We are so sexually compatible. I could have told a million men that I wanted to be handcuffed and they wouldn’t have responded or pushed my fantasies further. It always felt like you were waiting for me to come along in your life. I mean, you can sexually do anything with another person but it will never compare to what we share. “ [here we go] “It’s like kissing someone and not feeling that rush. Why kiss them again? I couldn’t be in a relationship with a bad kisser or with someone that I wasn’t completely sexually compatible with. We have something special and I doubt something like this comes along twice. You know?”
Then I saw my husband’s face change and I realized the conversation had turned the corner. I knew I should have stopped talking but those two cocktails were like truth serum. His eyes were on me as the hockey game played in the background. Then he turned to put his clothes away in the closet.
“I’m not trying to drag up anything.” [and then I started back-peddling but it was too late] “I just was thinking about how many men probably wish they have what you have. You are lucky, you know. You have a hot wife that wears sexy lingerie, will try anything in bed and she adores you. You have it all.”
And then, standing in the middle of our closet he said: I do have it all. I always knew I had everythng I wanted and more but my narcissistic needs told me I needed more.
That wasn’t the direction I thought the conversation was going. I wasn’t picking a fight or trying to spark a conversation about the affair. I was [drunkenly] pondering the fact that my husband was lucky to have me because I love being his fantasy. But he brought up a good point.
What makes us think we deserve more, even when we know we have more than we ever wanted or dreamed?
What makes a person risk everything they hold sacred in their life?
I think we never consider the risks of betrayal, only the immediate gratification. It’s a secret box stored on a shelf. A box we not only want but begin to believe we deserve. Temptation is a power that taunts our vulnerabilities and entices our insecurities. I often wonder if my husband’s betrayal damaged his psyche more than mine or our marriage. Relationships with other people heal or you close the door and move on. The view you have of your own character when forced to really look in the mirror is a much harsher and difficult to escape. I know he needs to reconcile his actions with himself but I don’t think he ever expected he would face this mirror when he began his secret relationship with Bat Shit. I don’t think he ever thought anyone would find out or that it would last longer than one encounter. I don’t think he ever thought I would read his email messages to her. It was all part of the temptation. Preserving the temptation kept him involved in the affair. Yet, why are we all tempted at one point or another to believe we can have more than we need or want?
I realize this affair is never going to be swept under the rug and forgotten. It’s embedded in our relationship. Sometimes I still wish it didn’t always have to be there, lurking under innocent [or not so innocent] conversations. It’s funny how things can feel so normal but then one word can bring up emotions that you thought were resolved.