Should Have Known Better

I didn’t know where to take myself. Where to go with my ocean and my needs and screaming. My husband was having an affair in front of me and I wasn’t saying anything.

They rocked and they moaned and Sasha held my hand so tight.

“Oh shit,” Sasha yelled and her hand gripped mine tighter and her legs went rigid. Reginald wrapped his hand over her head and rocked faster.

She pulled me down to the bed beside her and he came over to me.

I wanted the same. I wanted everything the same. To have someone to laugh at my jokes and think I was marvelous and smart. To let me lead him into a meeting and cross my legs so he could see my ankles. To get him to do this to his wife.

I pulled him into me. I shook him like he shook her. I wrapped my legs around his waist and opened my insides so far back he moaned.

Sasha smiled like a teacher. I looked from her to Reginald and saw his eyes on my neck. On my throat. I imagined my hair was blond and my arms were slender. He went deeper inside and rocked me harder.

I yelled then. My legs went rigid and wild. I began to kick and kick as the ocean grew and the last kick when Reginald shook, too, was swift and direct. My heel stopped at something hard.

“Oww!”

There was a shout.

I looked over and Sasha was off of the bed and lying on the floor holding her foot.

“What happened?” Reginald asked, coming up off of me with his hands in the air confused.

“She kicked me off the bed!” Sasha cried. “She kicked me. My foot! My foot!”

I rushed to the edge of the bed to look at her.

Reginald turned on the light and went to her side.

“Are you OK?” He crouched down.

“It hurts!”

“Well, what is it? What happened?” he asked. He reached to touch her foot, but she moved away.

“I don’t know,” she said, now cradling the foot in her hand. “She did it!” She pointed at me. In my haze she looked like an image in a stained glass window, all colors coming together and then bursting apart.

“I didn’t . . . I didn’t mean it. I was just having fun,” I explained. “I’m sorry.”

Reginald went for the foot again, but Sasha was frantic now and wouldn’t let him near her.

“I think my foot got caught on the side of the bed. I heard it snap. It’s probably broken.” She looked at me. “Did you do this on purpose? Was this supposed to be funny?”

“No . . .” I pleaded. “Not at all. I wasn’t even . . .”

“It can’t be broken. You’d be in way more pain,” Reginald tried. “Probably just a sprain. Let me look at it.” He reached again.

“Look, just get me out of here. Just get me to my room and away from her,” Sasha said. “I told you she’s jealous of me. She hates me. I tried, but she hates me.”

“What did you say?” I asked.

Reginald helped Sasha off of the floor and she winced the whole while.

“You told Reginald I’m jealous of you?”

Sasha leaned on Reginald’s shoulder and stuck out her limp foot that was already swelling.

“How am I going to work like this?” she said. “I can’t go into work like this.”