Well, there was no way I was going to sleep after that, so
I made a pot of coffee, then came back and inspected the laundry
hamper. She thought she'd been clever, because she'd washed
her panties, I suppose, in an attempt to remove semen stains.
But the fact that she'd done it at all spoke for itself, and
when I put the crotch to my nose, I thought I could still
detect the faint odor of cum.
I wasn't sure, though, so I kept quiet, and Claire was a little
more her old self the next week. Funny thing, we kept up our
weekly Sunday ritual sex, and it actually got a little better.
She was far more active than she had been, which I now saw
as another red flag. Still, she stayed home every night that
next week, because that was the first week of school.
But on Tuesday the following week, she went out, and while
she was home by midnight, she had that exhausted, just-fucked
look. Then she went out again that Saturday, and when she
finally straggled in about 4:30 in the morning, I was waiting
up for her, and we had a terrible row. I caught her before
she got into the bathroom, and tried to get my hands in her
pants, but she fought me off and slammed the bathroom door.
As she ran the shower, I could hear her sobbing over the running
water, that's how distraught she was. She was between a rock
and a hard place, and it was eating her up, only I was too
centered on my own pain to realize it at the time.
Nevertheless, when she came out I was the picture of calm.
The only thing I said was a question.
"Claire, are you having an affair?" I asked, knowing
the answer. She looked away and shook her head no.
"Please don't lie to me," I said. She turned and
looked at me with pleading eyes.
"Mike, I'm tired," she said. "Let me go to
bed. We can talk in the morning."
But we didn't. I slept until noon, and she slept until almost
2:30. Several times that day, I wanted to bring up the subject,
but it seemed like the kids were always around, and I just
wasn't in the mood to fight. And I also wasn't in the mood
to fuck. Besides, I'd decided that I was going to catch them
in the act, and deal with it head-on. I was pissed that somebody
was horning in on my wife, and I was pissed at Claire for
falling for it.
So I set them up, and they rose to the bait.
The first thing I did was talk to a guy I bought electronics
from. Being in the rental business, you run across people
who sell all kinds of gadgets, and this fellow dabbled with
surveillance equipment on the side. He had just what I needed,
a telephone tap. I also bought a pair of binoculars and a
digital camera with a big zoom lens. I installed the wiretap,
with a tape recorder, the next day while the house was empty.
Claire went out that Wednesday night, and after she left,
I decided to follow her. She'd said they were going to Chili's
for dinner and drinks, and I wanted to see if she was telling
the truth. She was, but it was still an interesting evening.
I saw her car parked there, so I decided it was time to be
aggressive. I walked in and they were there, six of them.
There was Claire, with four of her female friends and a young
guy about 30.
I knew the moment I laid eyes on him that he was the one.
He was sitting quite close to Claire, and she was laughing
at something clever he'd said. Just then she saw me walk in,
and the whole table went silent. Claire's face turned white,
and the guy looked worried. But I was acting gregarious. I
pulled up a chair, wedged it in between lover boy and my wife,
and plopped down.
"Hi, y'all," I said with a big grin on my face.
"I've been hearing about all the fun you've been having,
so I thought I'd join you. Hope I'm not interrupting anything.
Hey babe." I wrapped my arm around Claire and gave her
a big kiss, then bought a round of drinks. Claire was clearly
uncomfortable, but she managed to recompose herself.
