Harmless Married Crush?
Until the crushes get out of hand. For D, the breaking point came at Christmas, when P invited his latest ingénue to dine with the family, claiming she had nowhere else to go. D objected vehemently in a tone that said It’s her or me but P ignored his wife’s distress. The crush showed up for Christmas dinner and D, disgusted, observed her husband performing for his little friend. Watching him coo and smile and wink, D realized that P could never be trusted. His vanity was his fatal flaw. All it would take is one of those pretty young things to pull a Lewinsky and P would have his fly down before you could say "secret service."
The morning after Christmas, D packed a bag and went to stay with a college friend in the Keys. P didn’t even try to stop her. D just couldn’t do it anymore. She was tired of feeling angry with him, sick of worrying, watching, waiting. D wanted to be free at last of P’s constant need to be adored, to not be terrorized by his crushes. She’d rather live alone, D realized, than be with a man who craved stimulation not coming from her.
On the beach in Key West, D sighed with relief. She could finally relax and re-enter her body instead of feeling grafted to his. D ordered a vodka martini and did yogic stretches on her blanket, not failing to notice the handsome man playing nearby with a ball-kicking toddler. She looked at his hand — no wedding ring. The man caught her looking and smiled, then returned the boy to a couple in deck chairs.
He stared at D and cracked a beer, causing her to blush. Then he turned toward D’s towel, eyes fixed on the prize, and made his way slowly in her direction. D saw that her hands were actually trembling. Her stomach felt like a butterfly net. If he wanted to talk to her, what would she say? So this is what it’s like, D thought. This is how it feels to be free.
Originally posted on Purple Clover