The Reasons for Cheating Ch. 01

Today was no different, and I almost laughed when I saw how quickly Charlie managed to close the folder he was looking at and hastily walk away as soon as he caught sight of me. I probably would have if it were not for the hurt that still clamped down on me whenever he looked at me with those eyes. Those damned eyes! The first day I'd met him, his soft brown eyes had captivated me and that was one of the reasons I had prevented the other nurses from torturing the new scrub. However, the more time I spent with him and the more time I saw him work with the patients, the more I realized the kind of heart he possessed. He didn't hesitate even a second to bring me into his group of friends and make me feel welcome among them. I can honestly say I'd never felt more comfortable than when I was with them...well, mostly with him. When I'd found out he was married, a sudden jealousy had gripped me and I was more surprised than anything as to why I was feeling it. We were just friends, after all, right?

I mentally chastised myself for starting down that thought process again, as I knew we could never be anything more. I was not going to be the girl who steals another woman's man, and from the few times I'd met Mary, I knew she was a good person who also genuinely loved Charlie. Wait a second, also?! Geez, I have to get these thoughts out of my mind. It can never be, I thought sadly, looking at the back of his retreating figure. The sooner I realized that, the sooner I could move on.

But as the morning passed, my feelings didn't change and if anything they grew -- as they had this whole past week. Finally, I managed to corner Charlie during lunch break so we could finally talk about what we had been putting off for so long.

"Don't worry, I don't bite," I said, with a hint of scorn.

"Hey, Chloe, what's up?" he answered with obviously fake cheer.

"Seriously? How do you think it's been? You just bang me one night and then forget about me the next?"

He was visibly taken aback by the comment and as soon as he'd fully absorbed what I'd said, the remorse was evident on his features.

"I'm sorry Clo, I really am...God, I'm such an idiot."

"Yes, yes you are."

"I should never have done it -- " I could feel my heart drop in my chest.

" -- but I can't forget about it either." And just as suddenly, it was back up.

"Really?" I said, the hope barely concealed in my voice.

Realizing his choice of words, he hastily said, "No! I mean, yes! Fuck, I can't even talk properly anymore."

I giggled, and after a moment, his laugh joined mine. Suddenly, we were both laughing our heads off like during the times we'd shared what seemed like eons ago. Finally, I calmed down, and continued seriously.

"We still have to talk, Charlie. I can't say I wasn't hurt by what has happened and I just want it to be clear where we stand and where we go from here."

"I can't agree with you more. You're my best friend and I don't want to lose you."

I was touched by his words and I returned the sentiment.

"Of course, neither do I, you dork. How about we get together after our shift so we can finally get some closure on this whole screwed up mess?"

"That sounds great, Clo," Charlie responded with clear relief.

We left the lunch room with smiles on our faces, the tension already noticeably diminished between us, and we were able to work well together throughout the afternoon.

***

The guilt was still eating away at me, but at least my relationship with one of the two most important women in my life was looking to take a turn for the better. I just hadn't known how to approach Chloe after that night at her place. How do I make sense of her tears right before I left? And more than that, how can I explain my reaction to that? All I knew was that I had never wanted to hurt her. She was my friend, after all, so that was a natural response, right? I knew deep inside, though, that there was more to it than that, but there was no chance in hell I was going to come to terms with it.

I thought back to Mary and my guilt was renewed. I had literally run away from her last night after I couldn't confess my infidelity. There was no way I was going to have sex with her before getting that in the open, as I wouldn't be able to live myself with that kind of deceit. I knew my wife and I knew she would badger the truth out of me eventually and for some reason, I was sort of glad: I'd been living with the guilt for a week but already it felt like I'd aged considerably in that time.

Time to face the music, I thought to myself, as I smiled at Chloe and went off to face the first half of the problem I'd created.

***

I spent the day at home working out how to confront Charlie about what happened last night. Luckily, I had a day off today and was patiently awaiting Charlie's arrival home from work. He should have finished around now, I wondered, as I anxiously got up to check the time again.

He was coming home, wasn't he, I thought with growing apprehension. I had decided that we would come to terms with what was plaguing him as soon as he got back. I was certain that we would be able to work out whatever it was that had gotten him so bothered together. It was thirty minutes past the time Charlie usually came back and I finally decided to take the Corolla to try to find my husband.

***

We took a bus to MacGibbs, as both of us were too exhausted to walk after a long day's work. Unfortunately, we'd both forgotten about the inevitable crowd during rush hour and we ended up having to stand and be packed like sardines.

As the bus made a hard turn, I lost my footing and suddenly I found arms circled around my waist. I looked up to find soft brown eyes looking down at me and for a moment, I forgot how to breathe. Charlie was the first to tear his gaze away and then attempted to disentangle his arms, much to my disappointment. The bus came to a stop and I was abruptly pushed against Charlie's body. I could smell the mixture of his natural scent, his sweat and his deodorant, and I could feel my nipples stiffened against his hard chest.

As the bus started up again, I did not change my position and was surprised to find that Charlie didn't push me off either. Instead, I could feel a distinct hardening pressing between my legs and I got excited. At every minor bump in the road, I pushed up and down against him, my highly sensitive nipples brushing against the thin cotton t-shirt he was wearing, and I could practically feel his skin against mine. As the ride wore on, I wasn't waiting for the bumps to move up and down against Charlie, but unabashedly grinded against him, my arousal growing and my wetness soaking my panties. I could tell Charlie was in a similar position, as the firm rod between us jumped at every smallest contact.

"God, we shouldn't be doing this," he gasped out.

I didn't answer, instead just turning my gaze downwards and staring at the prominent bulge in his pants. My mouth watered in excitement and I seriously considered just pulling his pants down right then and there, before the rational side of me realized where we were.

All of a sudden, Charlie grabbed me by the shoulders and before I could grasp what had happened, I'd been guided out of the bus. I noticed then that we'd arrived at our stop. We were both breathing hard and blushing after the realization of what we had just done sank in. As soon as we made it into the bar, I excused myself to go to the washroom, and Charlie seemed glad for the temporary distance.

As I stood in the bathroom, struggling to get my breath back under control and to return normal colour to my reddened cheeks, I reflected on what had happened: I had excited him. Plain and simple. And he had liked it, was even a willing participant. I should be feeling guilty for doing it, but instead I was just proud and pleased that I'd been able to draw that sort of reaction from him.

I stared at the reflection in front of me and didn't see what it was that got his interest. Sure, my body was toned and my breasts were a decent, proportional size, but I'd seen his wife and I couldn't hold a candle to her. She was a petite woman, probably not much taller than five feet, but she had a natural beauty about her that I couldn't help but be jealous of. She had dark brown hair that fell in ringlets down her back and light blue eyes to frame a pixie-like face. I, on the other hand, rarely grew my hair very long, as it became a mess and too high maintenance for me.

I reached into my bag and removed my make-up kit, considering what I was about to do. Just earlier today I said I was not going to be "that" woman, yet here I was actively trying to steal his attention. There was no two ways about it: I knew what I was trying to do and I accepted it. What had caused this sudden change? All I knew was that when I had seen that look in his eyes on the bus, it brought me back to the time we'd made love and I knew then that he was the who I wanted and no one else. I'd been denying it for a week, but seeing his eyes today had snapped me back to the reality I'd been rejecting and forced me to acknowledge that I loved him. Being friends with him was not enough any longer; now I wanted so much more and I was going to fight for it.

Hence, I wasn't embarrassed by what I was about to attempt, but rather, by my inexperience in using the contraption in front of me. I mentally scolded myself for not paying attention to my mother so many years ago when she had tried to teach me (she had quickly given up when she realized I rarely bothered with it); I could probably count the occasions for which I'd applied make-up on one hand. Nevertheless, I understood the basics and I just focused on not putting on too much, as I knew that could quickly end up being a disaster. After five minutes of analyzing the job I'd done, I smiled, satisfied: a light pink eye shadow blended well with my complexion, mascara highlighted my green eyes, and some lip gloss made my lips look delicious, if I did say so myself. Looking at my image, I decided certain things would not do, and I removed my customary baseball cap and shoved it in my bag. My hair band soon followed and I struggled to brush my hair and tame the beast that was the mess on top of my head. Gritting my teeth, I managed to straighten it for the most part and I re-examined myself in the mirror. Not bad, I thought. Just one thing missing...with a blush, I quickly undid the top two buttons of my blouse, revealing the cleavage of my breasts unhindered by a bra. I left the room in a whirl.

***

I'd almost considered asking another woman to check up on Chloe, since she'd been gone for at least fifteen minutes and I was getting worried. Usually, she never took more than a couple, if that. As I was about to ask someone, I abruptly saw her and I became transfixed to my bar stool.

I swear she sauntered up to me and when I gulped audibly, she grinned widely.

"Cat got your tongue?"

When I didn't immediately answer, she laughed at my discomfort before sidling up to the bar stool beside mine and patting my cheek affectionately. A blush rose up in my cheek as I answered.

"Damn, Clo. When did you become a babe?"

It was her turn to blush, now.

"Seriously, though. Why the sudden makeover?" I asked, regaining some of my composure, but still feeling decidedly uncomfortable with all that had happened in the past hour -- the past week, for that matter.

"Oh, no reason," she replied, averting her gaze.

When she turned to look away, I caught sight of the mouth-watering cleavage not a foot away from me -- so much for that composure.

She of course noticed what I was doing and just laughed at me more as the blush returned to my cheeks.

"Are you going to stare all day?" But she didn't seem to mind; rather, she seemed quite pleased by it.

"Sorry," I muttered, re-establishing eye contact.

However, that was another mistake, as I soon got lost into those beautiful emerald orbs. I found myself unconsciously inching forward, slowly getting closer and closer towards her face...

"What do you think you're doing?" The clear, unmistakable voice came from the entrance of the bar.

xxxxx

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