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“I know he liked it,” she’d confided. “I’m glad my ego doesn’t need a lot of bolstering.”

Going forward, she had to fight the scourge of unmet expectations. Charlie had so many positives: he was hot looking, smart, considerate, employed, conscientious, and the coup de grâce, he had a paid-for house in Rancho Santa Fe, an address that heretofore only the rich and famous could aspire to. If he didn’t initiate sex as often as she liked, or wasn’t a passionate lover, she thought she could get used to it.

No such luck. Fortunately, the busyness of life took precedence, and she was able to move beyond it, perpetually dissatisfied, until Oliver left for college. Then the loneliness of her marriage became intolerable. If she’d really loved Charlie, she’d have channeled her angst into good works: volunteerism, for instance, or gardening. The garden club in town was an amazing group, and their garden tours were legendary. But the women she encountered there bragged about their happy marriages and, worse, commented on her handsome husband.

Instead, she focused on Harry Steinberg the first time they were together at that neighborhood BBQ on a weekend that Charlie was at work. While he was fighting a fire, she was flirting with Harry, a successful entertainment attorney whose ex-wife had left him for an A-list actor. The actor had purposely set out to get even with Harry after he allegedly lost a role for the guy when Harry didn’t move fast enough on a contract.

It didn’t take long for Harry to move on Clare. “Why are you flirting with a worn-out guy like me when you have that eye-candy husband?”

“He’s preoccupied,” she mumbled. “Are you interested?”

“Pull your pants down right here and I’ll fuck you until you scream.”

Standing with a cocktail glass in his hand, wearing a Hawaiian shirt and chinos, Harry Steinberg was the antithesis of the Romeo Clare had fantasized about. But he had an older man’s self-confidence and no sense of decency about taking another man’s wife.

Giggling, Clare admitted silently that if Charlie had ever talked to her once like Harry just had, there wouldn’t be a chance in hell of her straying.

“I won’t do that here because then we’ll get kicked out of the neighborhood. But if you meet me at your house, I’ll pull my pants down.”

“Let’s go.”

That was the unromantic way the relationship started and lasted for the next year. All things considered, it was the most passionate encounter Clare could have imagined. Harry was a no-holds-barred lover, and their lovemaking sessions left her drenched with sweat and utterly satisfied. Then Harry discovered he was falling in love with Clare, a situation he was not expecting.

“I’m too old for this crap,” he muttered. “I don’t want to get married again.”

“I’m still married,” she replied. “So no worries.”

“Yeah, but I want you here, in my house, by my side. I don’t want to share any longer.”

“Look, Harry, I don’t sleep with Charlie, you know that. And he doesn’t care about me. But I still have a son who shows up from time to time. I’ll be available to you when Oliver finishes college.”

So for the next four years, Harry made himself be satisfied with Clare’s presence when Charlie was at work and when she could get away while he was home.

After Oliver’s graduation, Harry approached her again. “We’ve been together for four years. I want you full time now.”

“The kid wants to go to grad school,” Clare lamented.

“Let him. I want you in my bed. This is your final ultimatum.”

“Harry, you’re so convincing!” she replied, giggling. “How can I turn you down?”

“Don’t. Just tell Charlie to enjoy his life and move in with me.”

So she did just that. On Charlie’s day off, she approached him. “We need to talk.”

“Talk,” he said, flipping through three days of mail.

“I’m done. I want a divorce.”

He looked up from the pile of junk mail, his face pale, shocked. “Why?”

“Ha! Are you kidding me? I’m not going to explain. I’m moving in with Harry Steinberg, so I’ll be close by when the boys come around. I’ve been packing while you were at the station. I’d like the artwork I chose. The boys can have the wedding china and silver if they ever get married. I’ll just take my clothes and jewelry box, and anything of mine you don’t want around, just throw it into a box and I’ll get it later.”

Beyond speech, Charlie just listened to her. Used to hearing Clare’s barrage, a list of his shortcomings and inadequacies, there was nothing to say. He couldn’t imagine living in that rambling place alone, but would try not to focus on the isolation. Clare leaving meant he’d have to find a dog sitter who would come in when he was gone. That was the main inconvenience. She’d become nothing more than a dog sitter.

“Okay. It sounds like you’ve made up your mind.”

“Harry loves me,” she said triumphantly. “You never loved me. I’m not even sure why we got together. Why did we, Charlie?” Her voice had grown shrill, and she was on the verge of tears.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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