But Honey, It Was Just A Dance

Once again I would like to thank Mostera1 for his help. He always makes my stories better.

Also: there is very little sex, so if that what floats your boat, you might want to take a pass.

Prologue:

It is human nature to search for answers to questions both large and small. We make it our quest to unlock the secrets of the universe, to explore ancient civilizations, or probe the workings of the mind. As human beings we do not like uncertainty; we like all our mysteries solved. Unfortunately, the answers to some questions still elude us and probably always will. Often those questions are on a more personal note and we find ourselves having to deal with suspicion, doubt, and fear.

Again, this is a story I wrote long ago under a different pen name. I dug it from the archives and did some extensive re-writing to make it better. I hope you enjoy the read, and as always—I love hearing from you.

But Honey, It was just a Dance!

By

Laptopwriter

Copyright 2015

*****

I doubt very much if I'm the perfect husband. I have a stressful job and I know sometimes I come home a little grumpy. Maybe I'm not the best provider, either. I'm certainly no millionaire, but we still do alright. We have a nice home, two luxury cars, my wife has a closet full of beautiful clothes and our eight year old daughter, Jennifer, has tons of expensive toys.

I guess when it really comes down to it; I'm just a simple, hardworking guy who loves his wife and family. Linda and I have been married for almost twelve years, and for the most part, those years have been heaven on earth.

I say for the most part because for the last couple of months or so, something just hasn't seemed right between Linda and me. It's hard to put my finger on it, but she's been acting strange, kind of aloof. On numerous occasions, for no reason, she's found fault with something I did or said; that's just not like her. I tried discussing it. I asked if she was pissed at me for some unknown reason, but like all women, she'd just say nothing was wrong other than she was a little tired, or that she'd had a bad day.

At first I thought I'd just give her a little while to work out whatever was bothering her, but as time went on, that detached attitude of hers was getting old and downright aggravating.

Besides her attitude, as I'm sure any married couple knows, you can't have a troubled relationship with your spouse without it carrying over into the bedroom. I've always tried hard to keep our love life spontaneous and exciting. I've always been a romantic at heart so I would sometimes start foreplay by bringing a dozen roses home after work. In the past, gestures like that never failed to get my laid later that night, but recently my amorous deeds would be met with nothing more than a "thank you," and a peck on the cheek. Instead of accepting my tokens of love for what they were, it was almost like she thought it was some lame attempt to make up for something I did wrong. It's been weeks since Linda initiated sex and my attempts have been met with either, she's not in the mood, or she has the proverbial headache. On those rare occasions when she would give in to my begging, she'd lay there while I did all the work.

As time passed, I realized I was starting to mentally remove myself from the situation. I'd go home, play with my daughter and pay as little attention to my wife as I could. Of course all that did was make things worse.

I was getting desperate so when I had a minute or two at work, I started going over things in my mind. I thought back to when and how everything started. I tried to remember if I had done something that might have spurred the change in Linda's attitude but was coming up empty.

I ran a dozen different scenarios over and over in my head, trying to come up with some kind of 'cause and effect,' analysis. The more I thought, the more one unthinkable trigger for Linda's behavior kept popping up. I wondered if it was possible. Could my wife be cheating on me? I told myself no, she would never do such a thing, but every time I tried putting two and two together, it was coming up three, me, Linda, and a lover.

I tried telling myself there was simply no way, but you know what they say about curiosity. I did some reading up on what kind of things to look for; differences in behavioral patterns, attire, schedules-things like that. To tell the truth, I really hadn't notice Linda wearing any skimpy clothes or dressing sexier; but then I only see her when I get home after work, who knows how she dresses during the day. I also had no idea of what kind of schedule she kept. She's always running here or there—for what...again, who knows.

When it came to her change in attitudes, though, some of the symptoms sounded awful familiar.

I thought of hiring a private detective, but I had no real evidence. All I had were suspicions and certainly nothing to warrant the cost of a P.I. so I started to investigate on my own. I did little things like call the house in the middle of the day. Sometimes she would be home and sometimes not.

Then I got a hold of an old, outside surveillance camera and stealthily mounted it under the eaves of the garage. I hooked it in to a tape unit that I hid on the back shelf behind some paint cans. I wanted to see if any strange cars were coming to the house, but after two weeks, there were none.

I did see my wife leave the house a few times, then tell me she was home all day; but she wasn't gone long enough for anything to happen...not unless her boyfriend was a one-minute wonder. Maybe it was just a small errand that she felt was too insignificant to mention. It was certainly not proof of an illicit affair.

Time went on, and although I still had absolutely no evidence of any hanky-panky, my suspicions deepened. Her moods were getting worse and we hadn't made love in a couple of weeks. I was getting pissed!

Our twelfth anniversary was coming up and I saw it as an opportunity. I wanted to go out and have some fun. It had been a long time since Linda and I had gone out for a night of dinner and dancing; maybe, just maybe, it would put a little spark back in our marriage. I was certainly ready to give it a try.

We arranged for Jennifer to spend the night at my folk's house so we could really enjoy ourselves with no time restraints.

I made reservations at Plato's Place, one of Linda's favorite restaurants. She took my arm as the maître D escorted us to our table and I was hoping for some of that old magic to come back, but for some reason she seemed a little tense. We ordered a bottle of wine with dinner and I could see Linda starting to relax. She was beginning to act like her old self again. Our conversation was light and playful.

After dinner I could tell my lovely wife was getting anxious to go kick up her heels. I wanted to go to a new dance club that had opened a couple months prior but Linda talked me into going to the same place we usually go. It was a nice place with intimate lighting and a nice, cozy dance floor. They catered to a little older crowd and played music a person can actually dance to, so she didn't have to twist my arm too badly.

Now, I'm not a bad dancer, if I do say so myself. In fact, that's one of the things that brought Linda and I together. We both loved to dance. We found a nice, private little table for two, ordered a couple of drinks, took one sip each, then strolled over to show the rest of the people that there was more to dancing than the two-step. It was like old times, we were both having a great time.

We became a little tired after dancing for almost an hour straight, so we headed back to our table for a breather. I plunked myself down in the chair but without sitting, Linda took a sip from her glass of wine then excused herself to go to the ladies room.

I watched with visions of carnal bliss still to come, as my lovely mate gracefully swayed her hips with each step she took. As I finally broke the focus from my wife's perfect ass, I realized I wasn't the only one whose attentions she held. Sitting all alone at a corner table on the other side of the dance floor was a very good looking guy who was watching Linda's every step. For a second I thought I saw her make eye contact with him and wondered if they knew each other. As she disappeared into the washroom I'd swear the guy looked right at me with smug look on his face but from that distance it was hard to tell for sure.

The place we were at was strictly a dance club and I wondered why a guy would come by himself, but then I thought, like Linda, his date was most likely in the ladies room.

I kept a vigil on him out of the corner of my eye while I watched for my beautiful wife to return. Again, as she walked past him on the way back, I was sure I saw them both grin and make eyes at each other. Suddenly all my suspicions were returning.

"Honey, would you mind getting me another glass of wine. This one is stale," Linda asked me as she sat down.

I was already feeling uneasy and didn't particularly like the idea of Linda sitting alone while I waited at the bar for some busy bartender to take his time filling my order. I looked around and caught the eye of one of the barmaids. I'd swear Linda looked disappointed as the young lady came to the table to take our drink order.

I just knew the evening was about to take a turn for the worse. I could feel it in my bones. I looked back over my shoulder and saw that guy was still sitting there, unaccompanied. He was most certainly by himself.

"Who's the guy over in the corner?" I asked.

I caught her by surprise and for an instant I thought I saw panic in Linda's eyes. It didn't take her long to recover, though.

"What guy?"

From the uncomfortable tone in her voice, I was sure I was on to something. "The guy over there; the one you were making googily eyes at on the way to the bathroom," I pressed.

"Honey, I don't know what you're talking about," she countered, innocently. "I didn't make googily eyes at anyone."

Just as our drinks came I saw Linda's eyes quickly flash over my shoulder. I looked over and saw Mr. lonely walking up to our table. He never even glanced in my direction. He bypassed where I was sitting and looked straight at Linda. "May I have this dance?" he asked her.

I piped right up. "No thanks," I snarled.

That drew a response. "I was talking to the lady," he smirked derisively.

"Yeah, well the lady is my wife and I say who she can and can't dance with."

Just then Linda chimed in. "Harry," she said, "you're being rude."

"Rude! Do you know this guy?" I could see the question caught her off guard. "He's the one I was talking about. I don't know what you two have going on but he just walked up and asked my wife to dance without even glancing my in direction. That's not only being rude, it's being extremely disrespectful."

"Hey, Mack," Mr. Lonely started to interject but I cut him off.

"Do you mind—I'm talking to my wife and I sure as hell don't need your input."

I turned back to Linda and continued. "Had he asked if I would mind you and him dance together, I may have said okay, but now...not a chance in hell."

"Harry," she said, now with an edge to her voice, "you're being silly. There is nothing going on between this gentleman and me, and yes, you and I are married, but you don't own me. I'm not your slave and if I want to dance with someone, I will."

I couldn't believe my wife was talking to me like that. She had never shown me that kind of disrespect. I was boiling mad and any hopes of spending a nice romantic evening with my wife went right out the window; still, I was going to try and hold my temper. As I tried to calm myself down, she continued.

"Honey, I just want to have some fun." she said, now in a much sweeter tone.

"Linda it's our anniversary, I want to have fun too, but with you, and sitting here watching you dance with someone else is not my idea of fun, especially when I've asked you not to dance with him. Now you're right, I don't own you and I can't stop you from dancing with him, but if you do, then you'd better get him to take you home too, because I'll be gone."

After twelve years together, I can read Linda like a book. As she looked into my face her expression was one of anger. I was surprised she couldn't see the same in mine.

"Well it's impolite to make this gentleman stand here while we're bickering so I'm going to dance with him and we'll talk about this when I come back," she snapped.

The jack-ass had a triumphant smirk on his face as he stretched his hand out for her to take. Linda placed her hand in his as she stood up and they walked out to the dance floor together.

I'm sure they didn't even see me leave because I was out the door before they even started dancing. I was already eight blocks away when my cell phone rang.

"Where the hell are you?" asked Linda in a very contrite voice.

"I'm on my way home to pack a bag, why?"

There was a pause. "What the hell are you talking about...pack a bag, where are you going?"

"I don't know yet, all I know is I'm getting the hell away from you," I said. "I've had enough."

"You can't be serious, Harry. It was just a dance, one lousy dance. You're going to throw twelve years of marriage down the drain over a dance?"

"It has nothing to do with a dance, Linda. Why would you want to stay married to a man you don't love or respect? I'll be honest, I haven't caught you but I'm pretty sure you're cheating on me. I suspect with the jack-ass you just danced with. I saw the look you gave each other when you went to the bathroom. When he came over to our table he gave me the same amount of respect that a guy gives to the husband of a woman he's fucking...none."

"Harry," she said, now with a softer voice, "I do love you—and I respect you. I told you, there was nothing going on between that guy and me. I would never cheat on you, why would you even think that?"

"You got to be kidding. We haven't made love in over two weeks! When we do, you don't even participate, you just lay there. You've been grumpy and short tempered for the last two months...and don't tell me you respect me because you don't, you proved that tonight. If you're not having an affair you're doing one hell of a good imitation of it."

There was nothing but silence from the other end of the phone. Finally..."I'm sorry, Harry. I...I didn't realize...I'm sorry for how I acted. I'm sorry for tonight. I'm sorry I gave you cause to think I'm having an affair." She paused for just a moment. "I...I guess I did look at that guy on the way to the ladies room. He...he was a good-looking man. I noticed him when we were dancing and I guess we saw each other at the same time but I'm not having an affair with him. Please, honey, please just come back and pick me up, we'll talk about it."

"Nope! As I said, I've had it. I told you if you danced with that guy you would have to find your own way home and I meant it. I'm pulling in our drive right now. I'll be out of here by the time you get home. If you are having an affair maybe you should just go home with lover-boy and forget about me."

"Honey, please believe me, I'm not having an affair. Please, look I'll grab a cab, but please just stay there until I get home."

Now I recognized desperation in her voice, quite a difference from earlier.

"We have to talk this out...Please, I'll be home shortly." She begged before hanging up.

I pulled into our drive, went upstairs, and packed a bag. I was out of the house in twelve minutes flat. I wondered if she was really going to take a cab home or if jack-ass would drop her off so I drove down the block, turned off my lights, and waited to see. About fifteen minutes later a Yellow Cab pulled into the drive. Linda got out and ran into the house. I saw what I wanted to see so I took off for a motel.

Almost immediately my phone started to ring again. I turned it off. I still had no proof of infidelity, but I had very strong suspicions. I was almost positive Linda and the guy she danced with knew each other. I thought now might be the time for that private detective. If I wasn't home, maybe she'd go to her lover for consoling.

The next day I went through the Yellow Pages and found the P.I. with the best ad. I went down to his office and gave him a retainer. After that I went into work. Tracy, my secretary told me to call my wife immediately. She said Linda had called twenty times already and something was definitely wrong. I explained that Linda and I were having problems and I was not going to return her calls. I told Tracy to clarify that to her the next time she called. I also called the receptionist in the front lobby and told her not to let Linda back to the offices if she should come by. I wanted to give the P.I. a chance to see what he could come up with. Now it was just a waiting game.

A little later that afternoon I got a call from Andrea, our neighbor. I knew it would be about Linda but I didn't want to seem rude so I took the call.

"Harry," she started, "Linda told me what happened the other night. She's been frantically trying to apologize but she says you won't talk to her."

"That's right," I said. "I have nothing to talk to her about."

I heard a little sigh come from the other end of the line. "She also said you suspect her of cheating on you. You don't really believe that, do you?"

"I'm afraid I do," I answered. "She's been acting strange for over two months now. The other night just substantiated my suspicions."

"Substan...she said all she did was dance with some guy."

"No, that's not quite true. I saw them looking at each other before he ever came over to the table. He was extremely rude to me and Linda sided with him and followed right in his footsteps. I warned her of the consequences if she danced with that asshole but she didn't care. I'm almost sure those two are lovers."

"Harry, come on. I'm sure you're wrong. I've lived next door to you guys for years. I believe I would know if Linda was cheating on you and I have never seen any evidence of it. I've never seen any strange cars over there; I've never seen any strange men... Please, she knows that dancing with that guy was wrong. She said she got angry because you said she COULDN'T dance with him, but she thought about what you said and she realizes you were right. Believe me, Harry, I know Linda and she's not cheating on you. She loves you; you know that as well as I do."

"I'm not so sure anymore, Andrea. She was not acting out of love the other night, that's for sure."

"Please Harry, please just talk to her. You're never going to resolve anything if you won't talk to her."

I knew she was right, of course, but I wanted to buy some time for the P.I. "Andrea, do me a favor; tell her I'll call her in a couple of weeks. I still have some thinking to do."

Again I heard a sigh. "Okay Harry," she said, "I'll tell her but please, please call her then, will you promise me, please?"

"I promise," I told her. We said our good byes and it started me thinking again. Andrea and her husband, Don, were good friends of ours. I couldn't picture Andrea lying to me. If Linda was cheating on me, she was being very discrete about it.

For the next two weeks I was on pins and needles. I checked in with the investigator a couple of times but all he'd say was that he had nothing to report yet. He finally called and asked me to come by his office. My stomach was in knots when I sat down. He pushed a manila packet across his desk, toward me. My hand was shaking as I picked it up.

"You can skip all the boring stuff," he said as I opened the first page of his report. "Just go to the bottom of page five."

I nervously thumbed through the pages until I found what I was looking for—proof?

After a thorough investigation, this office has uncovered no evidence to support client's suspicions of infidelity on behalf of his spouse.