I was pleased Edward called the next day. He wanted to see me again. Instead we only talked on the phone. I told him he was crazy. Why me, a married woman with kids, he a doctor, nurses chasing him? He whispered he kept thinking of me said again I was beautiful. I loved the way he said it. I wanted him to say it again and again.
He called daily thereafter. I knew when the phone rang it was him as he called shortly after noon. We talked about everything. I revealed things I’d never told others, even learned things about myself. Near noon I began to sit near the phone for his call. A few times I attempted to not pick up the receiver but after a couple extra rings my hand would jerk and grasp the phone.
When we talked, I awoke. Alive, I listened with rapture to his resonant voice. Talking to him was communicating with a soul mate. He understood what I meant even as I was saying it. During two weeks of telephone rapport he learned more about me and what I was thinking than my husband knew.
When I hung up I felt guilty, told myself I wouldn’t answer his next call but always did. He filled the void that had crept into my life. His calls created the excitement girls at work talked about. I was scared but fear was part of the attraction.
I learned he was unmarried, three years older, graduated from the University of Michigan, consumed novels, owned a Porsche, was interning at Stanford Hospital and worked 12 hours, 6 nights a week.
The more I told Edward the more I thought I knew him despite my doing the talking. My husband, in contrast, ignored me, only pretended to hear what I said and responded by what he wanted to inform me about instead of conversing about what I was talking about. Having someone listen, not pretend to, enthralled me. We talked about music, cooking, novels he was reading his Porsche and what I thought when he introduced me to new ideas. We didn’t talk about sex but of course it was all about sex. Every conversation ended with his asking to meet again.
Despite our intimate conversations, however, I remained nervous seeing him at other than a safe public place. After verifying with Stanford, he was an intern, I agreed to meet on the following Saturday for lunch at the Stanford Mall fountain. Saturday morning, I left hubby to take the kids to the park while I went “shopping.”
Edward gave his broad smile as I approached the fountain. We strolled along the esplanade to a sit-down restaurant. He told me to come hungry, I was. We drank wine while chatting then ate a crab salad lunch.
He was happy I was wearing his earrings. I was happy being with him. Afterwards he took me shopping again against my protests. I was nervous he would try to hold my hand and someone would see us but he didn’t try to do so. He led to a boutique dress shop, shifted through the racks and selected an expensive peasant style silken mini dress. He surprised me by guessing my size. When I came out of the change room I walked around, neck extended while he watched.
It was long sleeved with a black belt and the hem came just above the knees. I looked good in it. He told the cashier to ring it up. I said no, but he opened his wallet and charged it then took me to a boutique woman’s shoe store. With my new dress on I tried on a few shoes I selected which were on sale. Instead he selected a tan colored pair with 3-inch heels, ankle straps and open toes. They were expensive but matched the dress and the shoes I had previously selected for him which he was wearing.
I walked around in them for his approval. No, I strutted about in the 3-inch heels with neck straight up and twirled around for his approving gaze. I loved my new outfit.
He joked about at last seeing a good-looking woman wearing shoes he selected, pleased to see me happy. Again, he insisted on paying for them, the start of dressing me as his but I didn’t understand that then. Afterwards he walked me to my car as he carried the bags with my old dress and shoes. In the parking lot, I felt embarrassed getting in my station wagon but he was unfazed and said he wanted to see me again as he put the bags in the back seat.
I told him to call and let him bend down and kiss me on the cheek as I held the door open. Seated, he closed the door. I rolled down the window. He bent down to kiss again but I put up my hand and blew him a kiss. My cheek burned where he kissed driving home not believing what had transpired.
At home hubby was impressed with the dress and shoes, his first comment, how much. I replied they were specials costing so little I didn’t charge or write a check for them, true in a way Pleased, he shooed the kids to the back yard but by the time he got to the bedroom my new shoes and dress were in the closet and I was naked on the bed except for earrings on.
Edward jolted me to a new life track yet I wanted the security of marriage, my husband to remain faithful plus Edward’s excitement, I wanted it all. My husband’s swinging agenda provided the excuse for an affair and hopefully would keep our marriage intact, so I lied to myself.
I could close my eyes and see his smile, smell his after shave and hear his voice. My lips would part in a smile with eyes shut. My husband seeing me thus asked.
"Vixen, why are you smiling?”
“I am thinking how lucky I am, dear.”
The truth was otherwise. I was in love with a man not my husband.
The truth was other. I was in love with a man not my husband.
Author Notes: Wearing the shoes, dress and earrings of another man her husband shoos the kids to the backyard.