Although I had planned to just share the generalities of my relationship—that I'd married a guy my best male friend had introduced me to, he'd cheated on me just before our wedding, and he'd unknowingly become best buds with an abusive ex-boyfriend of mine—I found myself needing to explain in great detail the moment the doctor asked me if I was jealous of Becca because she had married the guy I considered my savior.
When I said the thought had never occurred to me, the doctor asked if I was suppressing my feelings. That maybe I wanted the life that Becca had, so I was acting out just to be around Malcolm. Was this really the unobtrusive doctor that Becca had seen?
I couldn't stop the words that poured from my mouth. How dare she claim I was pretending! I was forever grateful for all that Malcolm had done for me during those turbulent times after Jimmy. For helping me see that I didn't need a man to complete me but it was okay to want a man beside me. And ultimately, for introducing me to Drake. To Becca. Not to mention for encouraging me to not give up on my husband.
I was breathing hard by the end of the session, my heart spilled out like the potpourri scattered in the decorative tray on the coffee table between us. I'd not left one detail out since meeting Jimmy to drugging Drake so I could fly across the country. All of the anger in me at being accused of playing the victim slowly turned into confusion as I saw the smile on the doctor's face.
As Becca drove me back to her house, I chewed on the doctor's parting words. She was proud of me for standing up for myself. For not letting her belittle me. And for ultimately knowing what was wrong with my relationship and wanting to try to fix it, even if it wasn't successful.
When Becca asked how the session went, I just told her it was fine. The doctor seemed nice, and I'd made another appointment. Then I turned and stared out the window, smiling to myself.
Drake returned Friday with his plan in action. He was able to get a good deal on the smallest beach house—the same one the group of older couples I had seen on the beach had rented—but it wouldn't be available until after the weekend. So that meant he was spending the next few days with us.
He'd also arranged to work from home—the marketing job, not the porno film consulting, which he'd also cut ties with—and would fly back to California occasionally if needed. He explained that his job mostly consisted of doing research and attending meetings, both of which could be accomplished online. However, his temporary relocation had given his new boss the necessary leverage to proceed with a possible expansion project on the East Coast. So Drake was afforded the task to start networking and see what the company's options were.
I informed him of the regular appointments to see the psychologist twice a week, both individually and as a couple. And we agreed to have meals together with Malcolm and Becca every night for awhile until we were comfortable eating with just the two of us. It would be awkward being married yet separated, but it was a necessary evil for the time being.
All four of us spent our first Saturday as East Coasters—however short-term that was for Drake and I—on the beach, enjoying the end of summer. That night, Malcolm disappeared with my husband out to the porch to grill the meat while Becca and I made the rest of dinner. She took the knife away from me, though, when she saw my hand shaking and told me to stir the garlic and butter in the pan instead of chopping the vegetables.
I watched Drake through the kitchen window. Wishing he'd turn around and catch me while also wanting to secretly soak in the vision of him. More than once, I found myself rubbing my belly. Fighting back tears as I wondered if the three of us would ever be here in the future, happily visiting Malcolm and Becca.
I lay awake that night knowing my husband was just down the hall. Despite our agreement to abstain from sex—and the constant reminders in my head of what he'd done—I missed him madly. My submissive side ached for him, wanted to go to him and kneel before him. To accept his apology so we could be together, as if that was the only thing preventing us from being whole again. And surprisingly, a small part of me silently willed him to search me out, to beg again for my forgiveness.
Neither happened.
Come Monday morning, he moved into the rental house. Although it was just a few hundred feet across the blacktop, it was as if he was thousands of miles away again. And I felt a strange loneliness creep in. Just like I had the first two weeks I was out here. I'd wanted distance from Drake, yet as soon as I got it, I was miserable. But I knew I would survive.
August turned into September. Malcolm was teaching at his new job. Becca kept busy writing. Drake managed his project from his laptop for the most part. And I slipped into my old role of housekeeper.
Cleaning gave me a sense of purpose as well as a way to repay Malcolm and Becca for their hospitality. Becca reminded me not to over do it in my condition. Malcolm said more than once that I was spoiling them and the house had never looked so good. He also said I shouldn't do such a fine job or his wife was going to want to hire a maid after I was gone. It was both a compliment and
