Madeleine Strays: A Wife-Watching Romance (8 page)

“It was a mistake, that’s all. Heat of the moment.”

He could see Lucy trying to assess him as she was telling him this, examining the signs on his face about how he was really taking this, looking for the suggestions for how he would take the idea of Madeleine actually doing something with her date that evening.

Would Madeleine tell him more?

Lucy was looking awkward for the first time since he’d met her. She really did think she was getting her best friend into trouble, possibly even threatening her marriage by revealing all this stuff. Hugo gave her a break.

He said, calmly, “So now you know I’m not going to freak out about that bachelorette party all those moons ago, you can be straight with me, Luce. Madeleine’s fantasy is to actually commit adultery, right? She wants to sleep with guys and not tell me about it?”

Lucy took a huge gulp of her cocktail. “I wouldn’t say it’s as simple as that,” she said. “I mean she does have a big urge to fulfill your fantasy, so that would mean telling you all the details, or letting you watch. She does love playing with you—teasing you, keeping you in suspense, surprising you, even shocking you, I guess.”

“But?” he assumed there was a
but
coming.

She nodded. “When she went out on that first date, from the website, she said it wasn’t exactly what she wanted.”

“The guy wasn’t great—I know that. But she’s found someone else now.”

Lucy shook her head. She looked straight at Hugo, her eyes so very dark. She said, “Don’t freak out that I’m telling you this, Hugo...”

“I won’t.”

His heart was thumping in his chest so hard it was a wonder it didn’t rattle the dishes.

“That first date was the only time she ever met anyone from that website.”

Hugo felt his stomach tighten. So Madeleine had been lying to him?

“So who did she go out with on Saturday? Who is she going to the symphony with right now?”

“Connor. She’s kind of been dating him a while now.”

Eleven

She saw how it hit him right in the solar plexus. She settled up the bill and escorted him to a nearby bar, pronto. He felt sick, but a shot of vodka actually helped him.

“So what, she’s already been sleeping with him, behind my back?”

“No,” Lucy shook her head. “No, they haven’t done anything yet. Really—it’s been very slow, and it’s been very casual. Just a few lunch dates, really.”

“She made it seem as though she was having lunch with guys from the website.”

“She wasn’t. It wasn’t just those dates she told you about, you know how long he’s been after her—and she’s been interested. She’s been helping him with his writing, you know, with her Small Press project.”

“She told me she didn’t want to date him. She was worried she felt too strongly about him.”

Lucy ordered a fresh round of shots. She said, “That night when she had her Internet date—you know, she walked away from that guy after the entrees?”

Hugo scratched his head. There was too much information about Madeleine’s secret side coming at him at once, hard to process. “But she was out until late that night.”

“She came ‘round to mine,” Lucy said. “Kind of upset, really. The whole Internet dating thing was not happening—she said she liked the guy, he was very friendly. But there was no chemistry whatsoever.”

“Okay, she said that afterwards.”

“But it wasn’t just that—she felt it was all kind of cheap, somehow. Meaningless. It was about her just going out and having sex with some random guy—even if she’d picked him from a line-up on a website. She knew it wasn’t going to thrill her in the way you wanted it to,” Lucy explained.

Somehow, Hugo completely understood. And he understood why she might decide to go after Connor instead—and he approved. He’d always wanted her to pursue her crush, the way the guy turned her on. But why had she felt the need to hide it?

“It was all just so flat,” Lucy said. “She didn’t want to be just a piece of meat her husband sent out to bang random guys before coming back for him to reclaim her. If she was going to be allowed to experience the joys of a new relationship, it had to be a relationship that made her feel that joy.”

“I get it,” Hugo said. “But why lie about it? I told her I’d love it if she dated Connor. We even pictured it sometimes when we made love.”

Lucy said, “It started out that night when she came over after that Internet date went so badly wrong. She was late back to you because we stayed up talking so long. She felt any date she had with a guy off that website was going to turn out the same way. It was obvious she had to date someone who actually meant something to her—but she knew your big fear was of this thing becoming more than just sex.”

“You knew she was going to start dating Connor? And that she was going to tell me she was still looking for guys on that website?”

Lucy held up her hands to protest her innocence. “We thought she could keep looking for someone on the website, just in case. But in the mean time, she could quietly explore the possibility of Connor—and whether dating him would start to make her feel more than just physical attraction to him.”

“But you’re saying nothing’s happened?”

“Not yet, not really. What happened on Saturday—that was the first time she really went with him for more than just a coffee, a lunch or a couple of drinks after work. And you know she kissed him.”

“I didn’t know it was Connor she kissed.”

“You’re angry?” Lucy asked him.

Hugo sat there staring at another shot glass full of clear liquid. He was feeling all light-headed, dizzy, but it was nothing to do with the alcohol blazing around his system. He also realized that things were all tingly between his thighs—and he was semi-erect.

He felt no hint of anger toward Madeleine.

“No. Not really. She wanted to see if dating Connor would actually be something that could damage us,” he reasoned. “So what did she find out?”

Lucy smiled, seeing that Hugo was quietly warming to the idea of his wife dating her crush. She said, “Well, she found out that Connor’s a lovely guy, but not interested in settling with one woman, let alone a married one.”

Hugo was silent a while, just drinking and contemplating.

Lucy said, “It’s not just sleeping with a guy that’s not her husband that forms the center of her fantasy, you see? It’s the sense that it’s forbidden, that she’s being bad in doing it. And that Internet date of hers offered her none of those feelings.”

“So she invents this ‘Will’ character, and she’s telling me that she might sleep with him, and then in actual fact she’ll sleep with Connor, is that it?”

Lucy said, “She wanted to make sure you were experiencing the fact of her having sex with another man for the first time—having your fantasy made real. She just didn’t feel ready to open up about doing it with Connor.”

Hugo sighed. “I guess I see the attraction to the idea that it’s forbidden, it’s not exactly what I wanted, but I can see she’s not actively trying to hurt me.”

“No,” Lucy said. “She’s definitely not trying to do that.”

“But why bother to invent the whole Will thing? She could just have kept the whole thing quiet, told me she was going out with you whenever she wanted to see him.”

“It was a possibility,” Lucy said. “But you have to see she’s conflicted—she wants the whole forbidden fruit thing, but then she also wants you to know about her, because she knows it’s your fantasy. So her idea was to pursue Connor, and have you imagine she was just going on random Internet dates.”

“But now you’re telling me all this. Does Madeleine know you’re telling me?”

Lucy took a sip of her drink, then shook her head. “Not really,” she said. “It’s complicated.”

Hugo chuckled. “So explain—we’ve got time, haven’t we?”

It was past eleven o’clock by now. Hugo was acutely aware of the time, having watched the hands circulating the dial on the clock back in the diner, and now the one tucked away behind the bar, wondering every minute what Madeleine was doing, how their date was going.

Lucy said, “When we were talking after that appalling first date of hers, we kind of figured it would be nice if Madeleine could date Connor in secret, but that you would approve of it. Then she’d reveal all when she was ready.”

Hugo couldn’t help but smile. Madeleine wanted to have her cake and eat it, that was clear enough.

“So how would you engineer that?” he asked.

He felt that familiar tingle of arousal between his legs, a warm glow building inside his chest. It was actually quite hot to think about Madeleine pursuing an affair, with him finding out about it.

“You like the idea, don’t you?” Lucy said. “I can tell. You don’t have much of a poker face.”

Hugo took a huge sip of his vodka tonic. He said, “Okay, so Madeleine would have her affair—then what? She’d have you tell me about it?”

“We didn’t really come up with any kind of plan,” Lucy said. “We just left it at that—wouldn’t it be nice if she had her affair, and you had your little insights into a straying wife, albeit some time later.”

“But you’re not doing it that way?”

Lucy sipped her drink, and he could see her trying to find the words to explain herself. Finally, she said, “Okay, right now, all she knows is that I’m here helping you pass some time until her date is over. As far as she is concerned, I’m not supposed to tell you anything about the date.”

“Oh.”

Lucy continued, “But what I was supposed to do was to talk to you about hypothetical things, and make sure that you could understand her version of the fantasy—you know, in purely theoretical terms—and approve of it.”

“You were going to make me approve of her having an actual affair, thinking she wasn’t having one yet?”

“Something like that. Then if I wasn’t able to persuade you, if you really hated the idea, I’d just text her and she’d break it off with Connor until we figure out something else, something you’d be happy with.”

“But you are telling me about her actual affair.”

Lucy shrugged. “It’s not your fantasy to have it as a secret. Your fantasy is to know all about her tryst with someone else. So what if you know? The important thing is that she doesn’t know that you know.”

Hugo scratched his head. “This is in danger of turning into some kind of an SNL skit. So wait… you are going to tell me what’s happening on this date?”

Lucy laughed. “I’ll drop a few details if you want me to. I mean, that way, she gets to have her little fantasy, and you get to have yours, right?”

“Right. That does sound fair. So what’s she planning to do tonight? They’re going to the Met for a concert—I know that, she told me straight after her last date. Are they going to sleep together after that?”

Lucy shook her head. “She told me it was too soon for that. She’s not ready to go all the way, not tonight.”

“And if she goes into his bedroom, she might be tempted,” he nodded. “She’ll want to take things slowly, knowing Maddie. Cautiously. On their first date, they were kissing in doorways, she said. Couldn’t get their hands off each other. But no more than that. So maybe something more will happen when he takes her home this time.”

“You won’t get to see her if it’s in a taxi.”

“The concert’s at the Met—so maybe they’ll feel like a late-night stroll through Central Park after the symphony’s over—how late does it stay open?”

Lucy fumbled with her smartphone a moment or two. “One.”

“You think we might see something if we’re lucky?”

Lucy smiled knowingly, and Hugo couldn’t help but think he was being set up for something. He said quietly: “You’re going to turn me into her own personal stalker.”

“I’m not sure it’ll be that bad. Besides, I’m not sure you’re allowed to call them stalkers any more. Obsessive American, I believe is the acceptable label,” Lucy grinned. “And you’re her beloved husband, you’re allowed to be obsessive.”

*

The taxi took them up 10th Avenue and then Amsterdam, and promptly snarled up in traffic when it came time to thread through the narrow W81 St over to the transverse across Central Park.

Halfway through the park, Hugo was quietly suggesting they bale out and proceed the final part of the way on foot.

“We have time,” Lucy insisted, and Hugo gave her a sharp glance that questioned whether she knew more than she was saying about Madeleine and her plans for the evening.

“The music’s only 45 minutes long.”

Lucy shook her head, “The program’s ninety minutes—they’re doing a few other numbers as well.”

Hugo nodded. “God, it’s so random. There’s no way we’ll find them at a place as huge as the Met.”

The taxi dropped them off on the corner of 5th, so they could walk the short distance up the avenue to the museum. Hugo felt himself shivering a little, though it actually wasn’t too cold considering the time of year.

“Do you feel bad—that you’re allowing her the freedom to see other guys, but you don’t get to date other women?” Lucy asked him, almost as though she was trying to keep his mind occupied, distracted from the nervous tension running through him.

“Actually, not at all,” he said. “It seems weird, doesn’t it? Ten years ago, my biggest fantasy was having sex with more than one woman. Now, though, I’m just in a different place.”

“Wait, you don’t fantasize about having sex with two women at once any more?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I’m more likely to imagine that Madeleine is one of the women, and the guy is some stranger—but I get to watch.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, it’s not for everyone.”

“Have you guys ever talked about any limits on what she does?”

“She knows my biggest fear is that she’ll fall for someone else. But I really don’t want to restrict her—it has to be her choice in this.”

“Seriously. I have got to get me a husband like you.”

As they came to the museum’s iconic façade, Hugo’s heart was beating double-quick time again, his breathing becoming shallow in anticipation of what they might see. Would they notice a lone couple exiting the building, descending the broad stone stairs down to street level?

Lucy indicated that they should sit on the top step, on the south side, where they could pose as a couple of tourists or young lovers sitting to appreciate the architecture, casting an eye behind them in case their targets emerged.

“How are we supposed to do this?” he said. “I mean, neither of us are exactly trained in surveillance techniques. They could probably walk right by us and we’d never know.”

Lucy said, “We just have to pay attention.”

There were a few other people milling around on the steps, some in smart clothing, perhaps as concertgoers.

“And if they come right this way?” he asked. “Where are we supposed to hide?”

“You’ll just have to kiss me, pretend we’re a couple of love birds.”

“I’m not sure Madeleine would be too happy about that.”

Lucy laughed. “Relax. She’s kissed me enough times, what matter is it if you did too?”

Hugo coughed, tried not to choke. “Uh… say that one again.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Why do guys always obsess about that kind of thing?”

“She used to practice kissing with you?”

“It’s what college girls do—well, the non-slutty ones, anyway. Practice on their friends.”

Lucy suddenly looked behind her, peering over her shoulder toward the museum entrance. A few people were coming out, now, wearing suits and tuxedos. The audience from the concert? Was Madeleine on her way out with her date?

None of them were Madeleine and Connor.

“Maybe they’re still inside,” Hugo said in a loud whisper. “They could have found a quiet gallery somewhere to make out.”

Lucy shook her head. “No,” she said, again making him feel certain she knew more about this situation than she’d let on. “She wouldn’t do it like that.”

A few moments, and the trickle of well-dressed people became a flurry, and it was quite clear the concert was over. Hugo was suddenly aware that there were so many people now coming out of the building that it was impossible to assess all their faces—Madeleine and her date could have easily blended in with the crowd, and they’d never know they had come out.