INFIDELITY(Charles E.J. Moulton) INFIDELITY

A short story by Charles E.J. Moulton


“What?” Nina spat. “What did you just say?”
Peter put down his paper and smiled.
“I don’t know. What did I say?”
“You know what you said,” Nina mumbled.
“I’m sorry?”
“That Pamela was the star of the evening yesterday.”
Peter’s being mummified.
Realisation spread across his face like a medieval plague upon a crowded village.
“So?”
Fear was in his eyes now.
Nina threw down the keys on the kitchen counter, strode up to Peter and ripped the newspaper away from his hands. One small edge was left in his clutching finger and that finger began shaking. There was still no reaction from him. Nina cocked her head, pulled up the chair and sat down.
A dry wall hammer just hit her with the force of a speed train. Insecurity spread from her bowels onto her chest. The eager little bird named fear hit the walls of her ribcage and screamed for her to let it out.
He was still sitting there, frozen still, the piece of the New York Times still between his fingers. Subtly, that scrap of paper dropped to the floor.
“So, you told me that Pamela was away yesterday. You told me you were out with George eating pizza and there was no way Pamela was going to come back tomorrow.”
Peter slowly lowered his hands.
“She came back early.”
Nina scanned him. He felt like a package of hot dog buns at Walmart.
She took out a cigarette and lit it, her right leg tossed over the left one.
It dangled there for a bit.
He leaned forward. “Weren’t you going shopping?”
Nina shook her head.
He narrowed his eyes.
“Chardonnay? Condoms? Overtime, Peter?”
He sat back, calmly sighing. “When my employees ask me to solve a company problem that might make us bancrupt, it is my job to oblige.”
She drew a long, hard puff from her Marlboro. Now, her hands were shaking as well. She did her best not to show it, but it came through.
“I have three secretaries,” Peter replied.
“Do you hump all of them?”
“Oh, please.”
“Look,” she spat. “What’s going on here?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head. “Absolutely nothing.”
She leaned back again and inhaled.
“So?”
“So, what?”
“Was Pamela always there at these overtime hours?”
“Uhmm,” he waffled. “I dunno. Maybe, no. What difference does it make?”
“Does Pamela mean more to you than me?”
He stood up, shaking his fist. “God damn it, I didn’t have an affair with Pamela or any one else at the office. Why would I?”
She smiled, cynically. “Why would you? Oh, I don’t know. Maybe, it just proves that I don’t please you anymore.”
“Come on, dear,” he said. “You do. You know that.”
He walked up to her and lay his hand on her shoulder.
She turned away.
He stood there for a while, just looking at her.
“Okay,” he said in a whisper. “So, we have come to that.”
Nina leaned forward, resting her chin on a nail polished hand.
He walked to the fridge, opened it, watched what was in there and closed it again. Turning around, he saw that Nina had left the kitchen. Suddenly, a sting of pain came over him. It was like losing a finger. Where had she gone? To jump off the balcony? To reveal the entire truth to her gossiping friend across the hallway? Peter rushed out of the kitchen.
There she stood, leaning against the mirror, crying.
Peter put his right hand on her shoulder, caressing her skin and letting his hand travel across the arms of her red dress.
Again, her slow, painful sobs brought tears to his eyes.
“There is nothing between me and Pamela,” he said.
Nina lifted her head away from the mirror, leaving a big mascara stain on it.
“I kno- ... know,” she sobbed, “... tha- ... that I have nothing to ask of you. I kno- ... know ...”
He shook his head and caressed her again. “Shhh. Baby, don’t.”
They embraced, her tears wetting his shoulder.
It felt good to embrace her.
Nina started shaking inside. She couldn’t stand this longer. Withdrawing, she tried to compose herself. “I should’ve married you back in Denver.”
She paced the hallway, while he leaned against the wall, burying his head in his hands.
“I loved you then, but you insisted on marriage.” She stretched forth her hands, pleading to him. “It was to early. Can’t you understand that? I was in the middle of my doctoral thesis? In that position, you asked me to marry you. But you were impatient. Why couldn’t you have waited? You left, got married to someone else, and now we have this thing. I am cheating on your wife and on top of all that shit, I am jealous of other women. I have no rights. I don’t want to be a frigging mistress all my life, Peter.”
Her lover nodded, waving his hands about.
“My wife suspects nothing.”
“I don’t care,” she sobbed. “I don’t care.”
“I have the company flat here, so nobody knows I am not using it. The bed is always made. Nobody is ...”
Nina shook her head, frantically.
“I know all that.”
She tried to collect her thoughts. Her head was spinning. Was she crazy? Demanding fidelity from her adulterous lover. No, she had known Peter now since high school.
“Peter, tell me,” she sang, picking up a hanky from the hallway table. “Are you sleeping with Pamela?”
Peter opened his mouth several times and closed it just as many times.
He shifted from foot to foot.
“Well,” he began. “I don’t know ...”
“You are?”
He swallowed hard. Then, he nodded.
“What? Tell me, are you?”
Peter closed his eyes. “Yes.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
She walked to the kitchen again, grabbing a carton of milk and shoving it all down her pipe. Peter followed her, slowly.
“I am sorry, Nina. It just happened.”
Nina laughed. “Yeah. That’s right. It just happened.”
She spread her legs and did a John Wayne-imitation.
“Oops, I guess I must have stuck my willie into that. I’m sorry about that.”
“I couldn’t help myself.”
She threw the milk carton on the floor, causing some milk to spill.
“Get out of my flat. Now.”
“Look, we can talk about this.”
Nina started screaming. “No. It’s enough now.”
She grabbed her Marlboro pack. With shaking hands, she took out a cigarette and lit it.
“I have men who want to marry me. I have not yet said no. I will throw you out and I will marry them. They are doctors like me. They know me. They love me. You can kiss this mistress good bye.”
She grabbed the milk carton, threw it in the garbage, leaving ashes on the floor.
As Nina ran out, screaming, Peter sunk down on the floor, smelling his own tears.
He didn’t know how long he lay there.
Only that when he did, he picked up his telephone and called his wife.
“No more affairs,” he mumbled, waiting for his wife to answer the phone.
Until he realized that he was in Nina's flat in the first place. There she stood again, crying. Nina ran into his arms as Peter hung up the phone. After that, Peter decided to have an affair with Nina anyway, no matter what the consequence. That was when Peter's phone rang.

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