She seems to see my uncertainty, and she smiles, a natural smile this time.
“Relax, Falcon. No one is dead or anything,” she says.
I force myself to return her smile. Is she telling me the truth? Or is our marriage dead?
I go upstairs and jump in the shower and change into shorts and a T-shirt. I sit at the end of the bed thinking about my Elle, my gorgeous Elle. I don’t know what the fuck this thing between us is, but I know this; it ends tonight.
I’m going to go down there, kiss her, and fuck the life out of her. I’m going to claim her pussy all over again, make her remember that she is mine now and always. I’m going to make her come so hard she forgets her own name. And then I’m going to do it all again.
I’ve been neglecting her; I see that now. I’ll find a way to cut back on the hours I work. I’ll find some problem solvers to work with so I can take a step back. And I’ll come home in the middle of the day and fuck my wife. I’ll remind her how good it used to be. I’ll show her how much I still love her, still desire her.
My cock is hard just thinking about what I’m going to do to Elle when I get down those stairs.
“It’s ready,” she calls up the stairs.
Not as fucking ready as I am.
I get up and march purposefully down the stairs, ready to take her. I go into the dining room, and she stands there beside her chair, on edge. She is nervous, jittery, but she looks excited too. Does she know what I’m going to do to her? Is that it?
I take a step toward her, but before I get close enough to touch her, she blurts it out.
“I got a job today.”
She’s not fucking excited by me. She’s excited at the prospect of getting away from me.
“Oh,” I manage.
I sit down in front of the plate she’s piled up with lamb, potatoes, and vegetables. It looks and smells fantastic, but I’m suddenly not hungry.
“Is that all you can say?” she asks, casting her eyes down as she takes her own seat.
Come on, Falcon; sort it the fuck out. Just be goddamn happy for her. Do you want to lose her?
“Sorry,” I say. “I mean congratulations. I just wasn’t expecting you to find something so soon, and you took me by surprise that’s all.”
Has she been secretly job hunting while I’ve been at work and brought it up now because she found something? Is my wife fucking lying to me?
I force the thoughts away and force myself to smile. Elle doesn’t seem to notice the smile is fake. Is it because she no longer cares one way or the other?
I want to ask her all of these questions, but I’m afraid of the answers. I’ve never been afraid of anything in my life. I mean, I was a champion fighter for fuck’s sake. I could have been killed during one of those fights, and they never fazed me. But this? This is something else entirely.
“Look, I know you’re pissed off about this, but you could at least pretend to show some interest,” Elle says.
She pokes at her dinner, pushing it around the plate rather than eating it. I am doing pretty much the same thing.
Just stop being a fucking dick and act like you give a fuck about her.
“I am pissed off about it, but I’ll get over it,” I say, hoping that’s true. Hoping she sticks around long enough to make it true. “Tell me everything. Where’s the job? What will you be doing?”
“It’s in sales,” she says. I open my mouth to protest, and she raises her hand, cutting me off. “Relax. It’s not cold-calling, and it’s not door to door. It’s business to business by appointment only, and the firm works with huge corporate firms.”
I raise an eyebrow. She knows me so well. Her words make me feel slightly better though. It sounds like she’ll be dealing with professionals rather than scumbags. This leads me to another worry. What if someone catches her eye? Someone who makes her feel how I once made her feel?
I need to stop thinking like this. I’m driving myself fucking crazy.
“Sales. Hmm, I think you’ll be good at that. People like you instantly,” I say.
She smiles.
“That’s what Franklin said. That you have to sell yourself and the product then sells itself.”
“Franklin?” I ask.
“My boss. Franklin Ludlow.”
“Ludlow from Magnet?” I demand.
She nods, ignoring my tone.
“Yes. Do you know him?”
“I know him alright. He’s the biggest fucking sleazeball in the city.”
She rolls her eyes. She thinks I’m just trying to persuade her not to take the job again.
“Seriously, Elle. You have no idea how many women he’s paid off to save himself from having sexual harassment charges filed,” I say.