It's Not Cheating (6 page)

I drove home with trepidation in my heart. I had failed. My
marriage was doomed and would be over soon amidst a series of hateful court
scenes. My husband would scorn me for the whore I was. It was all over my face.

I gripped the steering wheel harshly. It had felt wonderful,
but now it was all empty. I had thrown everything away.
For what? Less than
a half hour of stupid foreplay and a few minutes of fucking? My entire life
gone because of this?

Inside the house, I made dinner in a desultory manner. I
just couldn't find the energy to make it seem worth it.
Is this the last
dinner I make? Will he even eat it?
I turned off the stove and turned
around, burying my face in my hands.

Derek found me like that. "What's wrong,
Elizabeth?" His tone was compassionate and caring.

I don't deserve it.
My voice was small. "I'm a
whore."

He stood in front of me, his manliness a threat to my
whoredom. "What?"

I looked up at him with teary eyes. "I failed
today."

"You failed? What happened?"

"Ben is getting married. I don't know, I got carried
away."

"Married? That's too bad. He cut you off, huh?"

I shook my head. "It's not that. I failed you. We…
fucked." I looked down, unable to look him in the eyes.

He was silent.

It's all over.

His finger lifted my chin. Concern was in his face.

I flinched away. "Don't touch me. I'm tainted
now." I fled for the bedroom.

"Elizabeth, wait!"

I heard him rushing after me.

~ ~ ~

I finally came out of the bathroom. Derek had pleaded for
twenty minutes. I could hear the anguish in his voice as he pleaded to talk.

He wrapped me in a fierce hug. "My beautiful
wife." He stroked my hair. "Don't do this to yourself. Let's sit and
talk."

I shrugged. "Why? The next thing is an ugly
divorce."

"It is not."

"How can you say that?"

He sat me down on the bed and sat next to me. "These
feelings you have…"

I swallowed.
Total failure.

He said, "I don't share them."

"What?"

"I've wanted you to loosen up for a long time."

I held my palms up. "But, like this?"

"No. Not the crying. Not the pain. I never wanted you
to be in pain."

"But I failed."

He chuckled. "You did not."

"What do you mean?"

"Did you have fun?"

"No. Yes… Yes. And after it was all empty."

"You did what any normal person would've done. And I am
not unhappy it happened."

"You aren't?"

"No. I've wanted this for a long time."

"Why, so you could divorce me?"

"Never." He kissed me.

I pulled back. "His cock was there, and his
mouth."

He pulled me slowly in. "I want to kiss my wife."

I resisted. "Why?"

"Because I love you."

~ ~ ~

My mind spun with thoughts that night. He approved? He
didn't think it made me a whore? He was happy I failed and didn't consider it a
failure?

He had mentioned his fantasies. Images of his threesome
videos flashed through my head. No woman does those things. But he had said
many do. Tens of thousands of women all across America did it. He mentioned the
dating sites with husbands and wives who happily offered to meet certain
people. Thousands upon thousands of listings. And he mentioned that not all who
met with other people listed themselves on the sites.

It boggled my mind.

He had showed me on his computer.

I was skeptical.

He scrolled through page after page of ads.

I expected to see meth-bitches, or tattooed whores. I
expected to see ugly women with attitudes. I expected the trash of society.

Instead, I saw pictures of normal, happy women. Pretty
women, skinny women, thick women. All kinds. Some only showed their boobs. Some
only showed their ass. But thousands were husband and wife selfies or
portrait-style pictures.

They weren't trashy people.

I had said, "But I don't want to be a whore."

He had shut off his computer. He motioned to the black
screen. "Those women aren't. And I wouldn't want you to be a whore."

"But I fucked Ben. I'm a whore."

"Were you a whore with the guys you fucked in high
school or after?"

"No, of course not."

"Then you're not one now."

I couldn't sleep.
My husband really approves?

~ ~ ~

It was Saturday. I didn't know what to think.

Derek snuggled and hugged me in bed all morning. He made no
moves, just held me. That calmed me a lot. Memories of Ben's cock in me changed
places with my guilt, off and on.

My shower was extra-long, as if I could wash the memory
away. Wash it all away. If I stayed in the shower long enough, everything would
wash away and I could go back to being a normal and happy wife.

I had been so happy when Ben came in me. Why had I been?

Derek kissed me in the living room. "How about a drink
to relax? A glass of wine?"

It was well past noon. "Okay." Maybe that would
help. I felt numb and confused.

I accepted the glass a few minutes later.

He said, "So he's getting married. How come he didn't
tell you before? Sounds kind of rude."

"Oh… His wedding date was planned for December. He
moved it up because his fiance's ex-boyfriend started coming around and
harassing her."

He grunted. "Sounds messy."

"It doesn't matter." I sipped my wine.

"It does. I'm sorry it turned out so horrible for
you."

"It happened. It was horrible."

"It didn’t have to be."

"But I failed."

He laughed. "You succeeded."

I shook my head, more confused than ever. "I'm a
failure now."

"Are not. You're more beautiful than ever."

"Because another man has been in me?"

"Other men were in you before and you were
beautiful."

"Before I was married."

He nodded. "Still beautiful."

I just didn't get it. I drank more wine.

~ ~ ~

The doorbell startled me. I was on my third glass of wine.

I got up to go get the door just as Derek went down the hall
to the entry.

I peered over his shoulder as he opened the door.

Standing there, holding some large foil-wrapped package, was
a stunning man. He was as handsome as Derek, at the very least.

My husband nodded. "Dieter, come in."

The man had a pale face with sharp angular features and a
bold nose. His eyes were crystal blue, bordering on gray. His blonde hair was
fading, but still full and brushed back, a little bit receding at the corners
of his forehead.

His face lit up when he saw me. His tone was clipped and
pleasant, and heavily accented in German. "Ach! Is this the beauty?"
He pushed past Derek. His eyes went wide. "Oh, my, ja. More beautiful than
the pictures." He thrust the foil wrapped package at me.

Stunned, I didn't know what to say.
Do I thank him for
the compliments? The package? What?
The foil as warm. "What's
this?"

Dieter grinned. "Mmm, ja. Sheep-brain casserole,
sauerkraut strudel, pureed hot dog surprise…"

I heaved. "Ugh, what?"

He laughed. It was clean and fast in a display of white
teeth. "Oh, my. What a wonder. It is ribs, ja?"

I gazed up at him. He looked like one of the last dashing SS
panzer commanders.

He nodded. "You will like."

Derek had shut the door. "Hello to you, too."

Dieter tossed his head, flashing a smile. "Ah, no. I
didn't forget you." He gripped my husband from the side in a hug.
"Wipe the pout from your face, Herr Monroe. You look like a little
one." The German flashed that grin at me and winked.

Dieter? Today? I had forgotten.
Oh god, this is not a
good day.

The man's face became serious. "Ah? You do not like
ribs? All Americans like ribs." He moved to me and put an arm around me.

Despite having just met him, I felt at ease. He was likable
and all that… "The ribs are fine." I tried to smile.

Derek said, "Elizabeth, dear, would you go warm those
in the oven? I need a word with Dieter and then I need to run get some alcohol.

Dieter's eyes lit up. "Ach, ja! Jaegermeister if they
have." He was nodding.

I carried the foil into the kitchen. Curious, I opened it.
Three large racks of ribs sat there looking amazing. It smelled even better.
Despite my mood, my mouth actually watered. I stuck them in the oven.

Derek came in and kissed my cheek. "I'll be back in a
bit. Sit and talk with him. Just talk."

That sounded odd, but I nodded.
I guess…

He left and I walked out to the living room. Dieter was
standing there, hands clasped and eyes bright.

I felt foolish. "Uh, would you like some wine?"

His eyebrows went up. A single nod. "Mmm, sure?"

I poured a glass and refilled mine. I came back out and
handed him the wine.

"Ah, bitte." He frowned. "I mean, thank you.
I am trying to use only English now that I am here."

"You speak very well."

He looked embarrassed. "No, not so good. But thank you,
ja?"

"No, you really do." I sat.

"Ah, well, English is required in gymnasium."

"Gymnasium?"

"Our word for primary school."

"Oh, we do sports in gymnasiums, here."

He grinned and nodded. His face turned serious. "Pardon
me, but your husband says you recently went through a difficult time, ja?"

I sighed. "Yes…"

"Tell me."

"I probably shouldn't."

He had taken a sip. He put his glass down. His finger gently
turned my chin. "Such a flower should not suffer so. You look as an
Edelweiss, crushed under the wheels of an autobus."

"What? Eeddul-vise?"

"Ja, a beautiful flower in the mountains of Germany."

I looked down.
What a nice thing to say.
"I
don't feel like a flower, right now."

His hand patted mine. "Your husband said you
experienced your first freedom and you are having struggle with it?"

I looked up at him. His eyes had softened, his head tilted,
listening.

I laughed bitterly. "Is there anything he didn't tell
you?"

"Ah, please, my lovely. Do not think ill of your
husband. He seeks my help. I will listen, ja?"

I felt the frustration of my failure surface. "What
would you think of a German wife who had an affair?"

He raised his head slightly and let if fall back again.
"Ah, well. You see, your husband says something else. He said you did not
have an affair, but that you found… release with another man?"

I breathed in sharply, reminded of my failure from the lips
of another person. "Yes, that's how it went. I failed." I took a gulp
of wine.

"Failed? Did your husband not know of this man
before?"

"Yes, but I cheated. I did more than just kiss
him."

"Ah? Ja?"

"Ja." I didn't say it to sound mean, just to
reinforce the point. His face was kind; I didn't need to be rude to him.

"And how is this cheating?"

"Sleeping with another man is cheating."

He leaned back. "He knew? Then who says?"

I wasn't sure I was grasping his English. "Sexual
intercourse outside of marriage is cheating."

He laughed. It was quiet and fast. "You Amis."

"Ammies?"

"Americans. So uptight."

I coughed. "If you were married and your wife had sex
with another man, would you be laughing it off?"

He appeared to consider. "Ah, no, my lovely."

"What?"

"I am married." He grinned proudly.

"Where's your wife?"

His face fell. "Ach, I miss her. She is still in
Germany. I secure citizenship and work here. And then she comes."

"So, you expect her to be faithful, don't you?"

"But of course. She is traveling with my friend right
now. I trust she is being cared for."

"But does your wife have relations with your
friend?"

"Ah… ja." He nodded and sipped his wine. "I
trust Rolf. I trust Heidi. I know he will keep her satisfied until she is
returned to me here."

I looked at him funny.

He shook his head. "No, do not be shocked. Many in
Germany do as we do. Ah, ja, some do not. But many do."

"Your friend Rolf has sex with your wife?"

He appeared stunned. "I do hope so." He shook his
head. "Poor Heidi. I would not have her be so alone."

"It doesn't bother you that she might run off with
Rolf?"

"Hmm? Run off?"

"Divorce you and marry him?"

"Ah? Why would she? She likes him. She loves me."

"You don't think she's a whore?"

His face grew serious. "Ja, I need to remember Amis can
be blunt."

I touched my neck. "I'm sorry."

He leaned forward and touched my hand again. "No, I can
see this questions means something to you. My wife is my love in my eyes, not a
whore."

"They do this in Germany?"

He leaned back and laughed. "Ja… and in many countries
of Europe. It is considered a great honor to share the bride with a friend on
the wedding night."

I was horrified. My eyes went large. "No."

He mimicked my look, eyes going wide. "Ja."

"Did you share Heidi…?"

"On our wedding night? Ja, with Rolf."

I was stunned. This German did not look like some freak. I
took a huge gulp of my wine. "Have there been any other men?"

"Oh. Ja, one other. It was nothing. An American
soldier."

"What do you mean by nothing?"

"He had an interest in my lovely. I let them, but he
did not know about me. When he discovered I knew, he would come around no
more."

"People share their brides in Europe?"