Day Rate
My marriage died a long time ago
My marriage is purely functional these days. I provide money and my wife cooks, cleans, and tells me what I can’t do. She avoids any physically contact. The shame is that I am still attracted to her. So like all humans I occasionally seek some physical comfort from another person. Whatever you do don’t feel sorry for me. I don’t.
My one rule is I don’t shit on my own doorstep.
I have the benefit of travel for work so I seek interesting people in the places I visit. This story is about one of my friends.
We had messaged each other for months and there was an immediate chemistry between us. You know it when it happens, you can sense it, even online. At least I can.
All I knew about her was her online name Serene and her email address. Both false. I didn’t know where she lived, how many kids she had, or if she preferred dogs to cats. That was all mental baggage I didn’t need in my life. I had not even seen her face, just her body. There was a simplicity to this first encounter.
I had checked into the motel around 3 pm. Whilst not to my taste it was geographically convenient. I spent an hour working, replying to the endless emails that had flooded in overnight during my flight. I messaged my wife to asked how she slept and to let her know that I had arrived safely. I then freshened up making certain not to use all the towels.
Now I sat at a table in the nearby cafe impatiently waiting for Serene’s arrival. We had agreed we would chat first and touch each other’s arm as a sign if we felt we were comfortable to proceed. If not we would part with no need to explain the rejection. I tried to stay calm, drinking black coffee and playing Sudoku as I waited.
I looked up and there she was, smiling and beautiful. 5ft 2 wearing a black dress and heels, with her long brown hair tied back. Overdressed for this place that’s for sure. I remember the waitress commented how elegant she looked.
Serene always reminds me that I forgot to touch her arm in the excitement of that moment. It’s our private joke.
But she still followed me to the cheap motel room holding my hand that day. Once behind the closed door, she kicked off her heals and we…
