time when we’re out over a grand. I’m sure you’ll never trust my judgment again.”
I laughed, but it was a nervous and uncomfortable laugh. In a week’s time, we were all supposed to be on our way to St. Thomas. Harvey walked me back as far as the path to the street where I’d go around to my front door. We whispered about meeting for lunch tomorrow at noon with the PI at a chain restaurant across town and said goodbye. Walking home, my thoughts were a big muddled mess.
Back at home, I tried to act as normal as possible when Greg jumped in the shower with me. That is until he pulled me towards him and pushed his penis toward my butt.
“I’m still bleeding, babe,” I said, moving away from him.
“Yuck.” He then washed his penis under the stream of water and smiled at me in his goofy grin sort of way. I laughed because that’s what I always do when he’s being funny, but I wondered if this may be one of our last silly moments together. Actually, those last moments were gone already, because this was now tainted with possible lies and suspicion. My marriage might have ended, and I wasn’t aware of it yet. The tears threatened to come out, and I pushed him out of the water so the water could spray on my face, camouflaging any tears that might escape.
T he next day I woke up, and as always the space next to me was empty since Greg leaves early in the morning. My nerves messed with me as I was getting ready and then were on high alert as I drove to the restaurant.
Maybe it’s better if I don’t know , I thought. It was a mistake, and he’s learning from it and will never do it again. I considered how the $800 in my purse might be wasted on nothing. As I parked, I saw Harvey leaning against his car. He was lost in thought, but then he cracked a smile when he noticed me getting out of the car. I forced a smile back. My anxiety was the only thing I could focus on at that moment.
“Let’s go in,” I said, resigned to what my life was becoming. Soon I’d confront my husband about the sleazy pictures the private investigator would inevitably take, and Greg would beg for forgiveness. I’d yell at him things about vows and trust and betrayal, storm out of the house, and fly to my mother’s until I could get back on my feet. What would I do? Get another crappy office job? Be the divorcee? It was overwhelming, and yet I saw it laid out so clearly, it must be so.
A short, slender man named Gus introduced himself as the private investigator, and the three of us sat down at a bar table. He told us his estimated cost based on the information given to him and asked for more details on each Natalie and Greg. He said he’d be on board the same plane as them tomorrow morning. Harvey looked at me, and I wondered if he felt as tense as I was. He must have been, with that stare he gave me. He was waiting for me to give the final OK and give the guy the money. So I did.
“Here, Gus,” I said reaching into my purse and pulling out the envelope stuffed with eight 100 dollar bills. Harvey took out his credit card. When Gus left the table, I sighed and said, “Oh my god.”
“I know,” he agreed. “I need a drink,” he announced, motioning to the waiter.
“Let me have a Jack and coke, and a...” He looked to me for my drink of choice, and while I normally don’t drink (lest the migraine attacks), having something to calm my nerves sounded inviting.
“Margarita, please,” I said, picking the first thing that came to mind.
“So, have you come across anything else? Or other unusual sexual requests?”
“No, I avoided sex completely. And I didn’t have a chance to look through anything else because he was around all night. I’m confident I’ve gone through most of his things, though. It’s weird that I can’t find one trace of proof in our house. Greg is not this meticulous.”
“But he has Natalie, and she is,” he reminded me.
“Why do you suppose they did it if they did do it?” It was the