
(Continued from last issue)
David and Diane have been married for years; then there is Julie, the young secretary whose axis collides with the couple’s in ways none of them saw coming.
JULIE
Since David had not said what time he would be coming, I remained in a state of nervous anticipation for hours, which only heightened when he finally arrived just after ten thirty, and it was immediately clear that his cold, frosty attitude from his last visit had not thawed in the least.
“I don’t have much time; so, let’s get straight to it; what do you want?” he asked gruffly, as he strode past me into the living room.
He had asked me to get straight to the point; so, I did.
“You can’t take Junior from me!” I declared desperately.
“Can’t?” he raised an eyebrow challengingly, and I immediately realized my mistake.
“I mean, please don’t,” I corrected myself quickly.
David leaned back in his seat, as though basking in his regained position of power.
“Why shouldn’t I? It’ll be cheaper for me, and I’ll be able to see him whenever I want without having to see you too.”
“When did you start hating me so much?” I wondered brokenly, tears filling my eyes.
“I don’t hate you; I’m just not ready to let you make a fool of me with that doctor boyfriend of yours.”
“He’s not my boyfriend, and there’s nothing going on between us, but if you don’t want me to see him again, I won’t.”
“I’ve heard that before,” he reminded me dryly. “I swear I won’t; he’s not worth me losing you! Please David; please,” I begged, the tears that had been filling my eyes, now flowing freely as I literally flung myself at his mercy, dropping to my knees and burying my head in his lap.
For a few seconds, he did not respond at all, staying as still as a statue, but moments later I felt his hand on my back, rubbing it slowly.
“It’s alright; stop crying; I won’t take him,” he finally answered, his tone now soothing and comforting.
The rush of relief that his words brought only made me cry harder, and it took a few minutes of David continuing to rub my back and reassure me before I was able to pull myself together.
And then, as my tears subsided, and my sobs reduced to quivering breaths, I felt David’s hand slowly move from my back to my front, creeping beneath the sheer dress I had on, before hesitantly coming to rest on my left breast.
DAVID
I had not intended to have sex with Julie when I went to the apartment. It just sort of happened. It was something about the way she had practically bowed before me, not just physically, but mentally too; for not just in her actions, but in her eyes too, I could see the acknowledgement that she needed me, and that she would bow to my rules, and frankly speaking, that was a huge turn on.
Besides the psychological turnon, the physical aspect of having Julie’s face between the upper reaches of my lap, gave that part of my body a mind of its own, and pure animal instinct took over. Even though it technically was, I did not consider what followed to be cheating on Diane; it was just sex.
It was a vent for my rage at Julie for having made a fool of me; a punishment of sorts, and intended to give pain rather than pleasure. As well as that, it was a form of re-establishing my dominion over her, and reminding her of her position – and mine – in our relationship.
Once I was done, there was no urge to linger as my mind instantly moved on to getting back to the house as soon as possible, and after a quick, perfunctory shower, I was dressed and ready to go within minutes.
On my way out, I paused by a side-table in the living room, and pulling out my wallet, counted out two hundred thousand shillings that I tossed on the table.
“You had said there were some other things you needed to get; that should cover it,” I nodded at the money to Julie, who had followed me out into the corridor to lock up after me.
Money is a great communication tool; giving it to show pleasure, withholding it as a punishment, and in this case, giving it showed forgiveness; I had vented my rage, dished out punishment and re-established control in my relationship with Julie; so, continuing to withhold it from her served no purpose.
“Thank you,” she answered quietly, but made no move to approach it, as though keeping a safe distance in case I changed my mind about leaving just yet, and decided I wanted some more of her.
She need not have worried; I was done for the night, and with a final nod, I turned and left.
DIANE
On my last day in Dubai, I went shopping once again, but this time not for the boutique but, rather, for gifts for David and the children.
Picking gifts for the children was easy, a PlayStation for Daniel, art and craft/ jewelry making kits for the girls, and clothes and shoes for all three of them.
Picking gifts for David on the other hand, was far more complicated – partially because he had a lot more refined taste than the children, which translated into a lot more expensive taste than the children, and Dubai was not a cheap city to start with.
Besides, I wanted to get him something thoughtful, something he would cherish; our marriage had been through the wringer, but it finally felt like we had weathered the storm and there was hope for bright days ahead, and I wanted to mark that with this gift.
I trawled through the shops for hours, and finally settled on a beautiful leather-bound diary, and a gold-plaited pen; I was sure he would use both daily; so, he would have a constant reminder of me, and in a way, a diary and pen sort of symbolized the planning and writing of our future.
On a less symbolic note, I splurged on a designer cologne as well; despite the hell he had put me through in the past, David had been generous too, and it just felt right to be the one giving, for a change. Dubai had been good for me; it had been a break from the usual demands on my life and as my trip drew to a close, I felt calmer and more relaxed than I had in a long time.
At the same time, I felt refreshed and reinvigorated, ready to go and take on those demands with a renewed burst of energy. I was ready to go home.
margaretwamanga@yahoo.com
Source: The Observer
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