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“No, not my husband either.” At the word ‘husband’ I feel the sting of tears in my nose and take a swig to hide my discomfort. “He’s an asshole,” I say, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I’m not even sure who I’m talking about anymore.
“Really? Wow, okay, what’s the story?”
My eyes never leave Geoff as I turn my head slightly so I can whisper in this stranger’s ear.
“He’s having sex with one of the math lecturers, and just gave her a full professorship in return.”
“Ha! So the whole hashtag MeToo thing, not really on his radar, amiright?”
“Please. He wouldn’t know how to spell hashtag.” He laughs.
“The professorship was actually meant for me,” I continue. “But I refused to have sex with him. He tried, once. I said no.”
I don’t know why I say that. It’s like I’m throwing pieces of history in the air and letting them fall wherever they land, just to see what this new, random version sounds like. “That’s why she got the promotion and not me.” I take another swig.
“That’s a terrible story. What’s she like?”
I think of smart, beautiful Mila, with her long shiny hair and perfect skin and her thin gold chain around her delicate ankle. “Ordinary,” I say, and shrug. “But some people will do anything to get ahead.”
“You could sue, you know. You’d win.”
I shrug. “Hey, I just roll with the punches. My husband is having an affair, that’s my biggest problem right now.” I’m completely unstoppable now. Maybe it’s the beer. Or maybe I’m just lonely and tired of being everyone else’s support system.
I could have confided in Lori, which would make a lot more sense, on the surface at least. Except that Lori—who I don’t see much anymore since she moved to Seattle, and who is on her third marriage, with a teenage son from the first—always comments on how lucky I am. “You have the perfect husband, the perfect children, the perfect career! How did you do it?” she’d say. And I’d joke back with something like, “You can have my kids if you like them so much. Scratch that. I’ll throw in the husband, too. Take the lot. See how you like them after a week.” But, deep down, I believed she was right. I did have the perfect family and the perfect life. So there was no way I was going to confide in Lori right now. Maybe one day, after it had all blown over. I imagine myself in ten years on one of our ski trips in Colorado, sitting side by side on the chair lift, Lori commenting on my wonderful life.
Don’t kid yourself, Lori. There was a time, you know, many years ago, when I thought we might not make it…
Meanwhile, I find myself telling this complete stranger about my marital problems. At least it takes my mind off Alex. In fact, what happened with Alex is beginning to feel like a distant memory. Even the police didn’t seem that troubled by his suicide—this is what I do now: I make myself think of Alex’ssuicideas opposed to Alex’sdeath. Meanwhile, this man listens intently to my woes, standing very close, head slightly bowed in concentration.
“Would you leave him?” he asks, when I finish.
I recoil. “My husband? No! I mean, I’ve fantasized about it sometimes, when he’s annoyed me particularly.”
“But don’t you ever wonder? What it would be like to be with someone else?”
“What would it be like for me? It depends. I mean, I have wondered what it’d be like to be married to someone successful, tangibly so. Someone busy, driven.” I look back at Geoff, who catches my eye and winks at me. Maybe I should have done it that night in Chicago; it sure had never occurred to me that Luis would be the one to stray. Maybe this is my punishment for flirting too much. Then a thought occurs to me, a terrible, stomach-clenching, bile-rising thought:Is Luis planning to leave me?
“No,” I reply finally. “I never considered being with anyone else.”
“Then don’t say anything to your husband. Don’t confront him.”
“Do you think?“
“I do. You don’t have enough information yet. You said so yourself.”
“Are you married?” I ask.
“No. But I was in a long term relationship. I found out she had an affair and I confronted her.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Really?”
“Really. Things got very messy and I asked her to leave. I thought she’d choose me, you see. I thought she’d beg me to take her back. She didn’t. She’s with the other woman now.”
“Oh wow, the other woman?”
“Correct.”
“Good to know the grass isn’t any greener on the other side, then.”
