Man in the Mirror Ch. 01

I laughed at that. "You gym people always make it sound so easy."

"No, it's true." He paused for a moment, like he was gathering his thoughts. "Do you mind if I ask you a couple of personal questions?"

I was uncomfortable with the direction of this conversation, but I said, "Shoot."

"When you get off work, what do you do?"

I thought about it for a moment. I realized where he was going with this, so naturally I tried to find ways to justify my position. "I work anywhere from 9 to 12 hours every day. When I get home, I'm bone tired. All I can do is get some dinner, and sit down to rest."

He nodded thoughtfully. "What do you eat?"

I thought about it, and once again, looked for ways to justify myself. "My wife is a healthy cook. Most of the time I eat what she cooks."

"Like?"

"You know, the usual. Vegetables (I made sure to mention that first), baked chicken, fish, rice; things like that."

He nodded again and asked, "What do you eat when she doesn't cook?"

"Well...those are days that I eat out. But they aren't often."

Okay. Admittedly, I overstated and understated certain things. My wife did cook healthy meals; however, that didn't stop me from enjoying a doughnut or a scone for breakfast, or a quarter pounder for lunch.

But, I wasn't going to admit that to him.

Phil may have known this, or may have taken me at my word. I couldn't tell; he had a good poker face. What he did do was reach in his desk and pull out a card.

"I used to work at this gym before I came to Walmart. We had a great staff, and some really good trainers. As a matter of fact, the woman who now manages the place was a trainer when I worked there. You should drop by and check it out. If you ever want to see if there are changes that you could make, someone there could help you."

I grabbed the card and looked at it. On it, there was a logo for a gym in the middle of it. Superimposed over the logo was the contact information.

"The manager's name is Naomi. If you ever decide to go, tell her Phil sent you."

************

As I drove home, I thought about Phil. His questions stuck with me. The real answers to those questions stuck with me more. When I pulled into my driveway, I stuffed the card in my wallet and prepared myself to have the most heart wrenching conversation known to man. Again.

When I walked into my house, I found Paige sitting in the living room. The TV was on, but she didn't seem to be very interested in it.

"Where are the kids?" I asked, noticing a lack of noise.

"I sent them to my sister's again."

"Two days in a row? No doubt she suspects something is up."

"Yeah, well. Better that than they hear any of our angry outbursts."

I made myself let that one go. Once again, I took a seat opposite of her. For a few moments, the seconds ticked away on the clock with nothing being said. I broke the awkward silence with an even more awkward question.

"Why, Paige?"

The weight of those two words was dense and packed with emotional heft. She blinked twice in a futile effort to stop the tear that escaped and trailed down her cheek.

"Because...I'm not attracted to you anymore. I don't find you appealing." She said, as if she regretted having to say the words.

I don't know why I asked. She already told me as much last time we talked. I guess I needed to hear it again to seal it in my mind. Even though this was the second time, the pain that I felt was fresh. With my heart in my throat, I asked, "So, you fell out of love with me because I'm fat?"

More tears streamed down her face. "It's not just that, Arty. It's me and you. It's everything. I...I don't think there's anything left of what we used to be. We barely do anything together. It's all about the kids, and the bills. When we finally are together, there's no...spark."

With my teeth grit and my lips pursed, I spit out, "It doesn't help that I suck in bed."

This time, there was no retaliation on her part. She just shook her head sadly and said, "I'm sorry about saying those things to you yesterday. I really am. I was angry."

"Are they true?" I asked hopefully. For some odd reason, my heart latched on to the far-fetched possibility that she would recant.

But she didn't. She didn't confirm nor deny it, but the look on her face was answer enough.

My heart broke once again with the sting of rejection. "Why didn't you just tell me? I could have changed. Why did you let me go all of these years looking like an idiot? Why did you have to cheat on me? Why, Paige? Why?" I shot at her. There were so many "whys" that demanded answers. I didn't even have time to ask them all.

She shrugged her shoulders and sniffled. "I tried to tell you, at least in the beginning. But it never changed anything. After a while, I just brushed it off and just went along with things. We had such a good life that I felt like I had no right to be unhappy. The kids were happy. You were happy. I guess...I don't know." She threw her hands up at the last part of her "explanation".

I couldn't help getting the "what the fuck" look on my face. "You never told me that I sucked in bed. I would have remembered that!"

"But I did tell you that you were gaining weight, and that you should try to lose some." She said defensively.

I was flabbergasted. "EVERYONE'S WIFE SAYS THAT! How was I supposed to know that that means you're unhappy in the marriage? And for the record, I wasn't happy either! I had a wife who wasn't fully there. I didn't put two and two together, but deep down I knew that something was wrong with our marriage. I just figured that marriages go through that, and I dealt with it."

"You just dealt with it?" she said getting agitated. "That's the problem right there. Complacency. Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you see if there was a way to revive us? You just said that deep down you knew something was wrong. Why didn't you do something about it instead of just dealing with it?"

I was not going to let her misdirect blame onto me. "So, that gives you the right to cheat?" I said sharply. "Yes, I thought something was wrong. But I wasn't the one cheating. You were. I didn't use a stale marriage as an excuse to go out and get some strange. You were the one who felt enough discontent to go outside the marriage. You were the one that found me boring, fat, and unappealing. That means that you had the greater responsibility to say something. Instead, you stood back and let us end up...here."

She looked like she was on the verge of saying something, but she stopped. Then she sadly nodded her head in humble acquiescence. After a few more seconds of silence, she asked, "So what now?"

"I don't know, Paige. I mean, I guess..." I wanted to tell her to go fuck herself. I wanted to kick her out. But, for some reason, I wasn't able to say the word "divorce". That word was one I never thought I'd say. "I don't know." I repeated.

She looked uneasy. Her eyes were cast down, but I could still see something in them. She was figuring out a way to tell me something. As she opened her mouth to speak, my heart dropped. I knew what was coming next.

"I...I think we should get a divorce, Arty." She said softly without looking up.

The words rang over and over in my head like a church bell. She was right. The logical solution to this dilemma was to cut our losses and move on.

That sounds so easy, doesn't it? But that's the problem with marriage; it isn't logical. Nothing about love is. What person goes into a business deal knowing that it has a 50% failure rate?. No one does. Love and marriage are both emotion based commitments. Logistics just get in the way.

But for her, it was an easy fix. Just split up. Easy peasy. Nothing to see here.

I became angry. Of course, I was angry with the infidelity and all, but there was also a juvenile element to it. I was angry that I wasn't the one who suggested that we split up. She was the one who cheated. I should have been the one telling her to pack her shit and go. Instead, I hesitated to pull the trigger. My heart had one last shred of hope left. But I should have known that she didn't feel the same way. Her actions said that in spades.

"Of course you think we should." I said sarcastically. "Never mind worrying about how it will affect the twins. No, we need to divorce because you need some dick."

"Come on Arty. Even you said that you were unhappy."

"Yeah, but..." I was about to launch into more reasons why she was absurd in her thinking. But then I realized that there was no point. She was done with me; had been for some time. The only thing groveling would accomplish is make me look and feel like a loser.

I felt like I had to leave this room; get away from her. The stink of rejection was all over me. This time when I got up to leave, she didn't stop me. I started to walk out, but I had one burning question left. I stopped at the vestibule leading to the foyer.

"Who was that guy?" I asked without turning around the face her. I was trying to remain calm in asking this, and I couldn't do that if I looked at her.

"Derrick. His name is Derrick. He's a guy I work with."

"Derrick." I repeated in a voice that didn't even break a whisper. "I think I remember him; from that office party two years ago. The two of you danced together a lot."

She must have read in between the lines of what I was saying, because her response was almost immediate. "We weren't sleeping together then. I promise."

A sad scoff escaped my lips. "Well, I guess that's something, isn't it?" I turned my head just enough to glance at her from the corner of my eye. "Were you guys flirting? Something had to be going on. I could see...something. Your interaction was way too friendly to just be colleagues."

"What does it matter, Arty?" She asked sadly.

"It matters to me."

Her eyes rolled and ended up looking at the ceiling. "Fine. I guess you can say that there was a lot of attraction there. Maybe even a little flirting. But it was nothing more than office banter. It wasn't until we met at the gym that things started to become more...real."

When I responded this time, I wasn't able to hold the venom at bay. "The gym. Of course you met at the gym. And that made you enthusiastic about ruining your marriage, right? But it was justifiable because I'm a fat, boring guy who can't satisfy his wife."

"Arty..." she whined.

I paid her no attention and continued my rant. "Because he's a great fuck who knows what he's doing. That turns you into some sort of nympho. Isn't that what you told me?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she repeated her catch phrase, "I'm sorry that I said those things to you."

I was so sick of hearing her say that. It was a slap in the face. I know it was supposed to be an apology to balm over the pain that she caused, but it was hollow. She wasn't sorry for what she said; she was sorry for saying it aloud. Those were her real feelings. Her only regret was getting angry enough to allow the filter to fully drop.

"Whatever." I spit as I walked out. I left straight out of the house and into my car.

Once again, I ended up at my brother's place. He answered the door, looked at me, and then stepped aside to let me in.

"You staying over?" he asked. I answered with a nod. Without a word, he disappeared into the back of the apartment and returned with a blanket.

"Thanks." I said as I grabbed it.

"No problem." As he walked to his bedroom, he yelled out over his shoulder, "Just don't start acting like a dick. I will knock your ass out. Again."

I spread the blanket out on the couch, got undressed, and went into the bathroom to use it before I laid down. As I washed my hands, I looked at myself in Lance's mirror. With a shake of my head, I exited the bathroom and stretched out on my impromptu bed.

What had my life become? How did it turn out this way? I did everything that I thought I was supposed to do. I worked hard, I honored my wife and family, and I never broke the law. Yet, here I was sleeping on my brother's couch like I was the one who did something wrong.

Darkness loomed over me as I closed my eyes to try to get some sleep.

********************

Cameo Characters:

Phil: Briefly mentioned in "To Have and to Cuckold Pt 5"

Brief mention of Brian: From "Love at First Sight Theory" and briefly mentioned in "Innocent Text Messages".

END OF CHAPTER ONE.