The Millionaire Claims His Wife

“Uh-huh.”

“And then, when things took off and the company really began to grow, he went to all these parties. Chamber of Commerce things. You know, the sort of stuff you read about in the paper.”

“And he left you home. God, the nerve of the man!”

“No. I mean, he took me with him. And then I decided I didn’t want to go to these things anymore.”

“I can imagine the rest. The jerk went by himself and that’s when he began to fool around. He met this society type with a pedigree and a face like an ice sculpture and she was lots more appealing than the house mouse he’d left at home, right?”

“Well—well, no. He didn’t meet anybody. Although, eventually, he—he got involved with his secretary.”

“How disgustingly trite. His secretary! Will men never learn?”

“He said it wasn’t what it seemed to be, but I knew.”

“Of course, you knew. Lipstick on his collar, receipts from motels you’d never been to in his pockets, charge account statements for flowers and candy and perfume...”

“No.”

“No?”

Annie shook her head. “Well, bills for flowers and candy and perfume, yes. For my birthday, or Christmas, or sometimes just for no reason at all.”

“Really,” Deb said, arching an eyebrow.

“I’d never have known, except I just—I showed up at his office when he didn’t expect me and there she was, wound around him like—like a morning glory vine on a fence post.”

“And Chase said he was just taking a speck of dust out of her eye,” Deb said, shaking her head.

Annie looked up, her mouth trembling. “Chase said it wasn’t what it looked like. His secretary said it, too. She cried and begged me to believe her, she said Chase had never even looked at her cross-eyed but I—”

“But you?”

“But I knew. That he—that she... Because, you know, I’d stopped turning to him in bed, when he reached for me. I couldn’t help it.” A sob ripped from Annie’s throat. “I loved him so much, Deb. So terribly much!”

“Oh, Annie, you poor soul,” Deb said, “you still do.”

“I don’t,” Annie said, and she began to weep uncontrollably.

Deb stood up, went to Annie’s side and put her arm around her.

“Oh, honey, I never realized. You’re crazy about the man.”

“No,” Annie said in a choked whisper, and then she pulled out of her friend’s embrace and threw her arms into the air. “Yes,” she said, “and isn’t that pathetic? It’s true. I am crazy about him. I love him with all my heart. I’d even forgive him that fling with his secretary.”

“If there was a fling.” Annie shot her a look, and Deb shrugged. “Well, it’s a possibility, isn’t it? I mean, all those stories about bosses and their secretaries...if half of ’em were true, the American economy would grind to a halt. Anyway, why would she have put up such a denial?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know anything, anymore, only that somewhere along the line, Chase and I lost each other. And I know now that it wasn’t all his fault. We were so young when we got married, Deb. I thought marriage was just a fairy tale, you know, the prince rides off with the maiden and they live happily ever after. But it isn’t like that. You have to work at a marriage, talk about your goals and your problems.”

“And you guys didn’t.”

Annie shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice muffled as she wiped her nose again.

“Well, it’s never too late.”

“It is.” Annie dumped the wet paper towel into the trash and peeled another one off the roll. “It’s way too late.”

“What about the reconciliation attempt?”

“I told you. It wasn’t for real. We just went through the motions, for Dawn.”

“But you made love.”

“I made love. Chase—Chase just figures we slept together.” Annie flashed Deb a fierce look. “And don’t you dare tell me it’s the same thing.”

Deb smiled sadly. “Trust me, Annie. Even I know that it isn’t. Well, what happened when the weekend was over? Didn’t he suggest seeing each other again?”

“He did.” Annie’s expression hardened. “He phoned a dozen times. Sure, he wants to see me. For sex. Not for anything else.”

“You don’t think it would help to see him? Tell him how you feel?”

“No! God, no! It’s bad enough I showed him how I feel. In bed, I mean. I...” Annie shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore. There’s no point. Tallcing’s not going to change—”