DITW 12-6: Epimetheus (Patreon)

Devlin was behind her, coming into the luxury suite at the Yorkville hotel, five minutes late. Standing by the bedside, between the bed and the window, she said toward the foyer, “I don’t know how long you think you can keep moving Benny Chan’s appointments around before he tells you to go fuck yourself.”

When she turned, her heart pounded and her mind careened in crazy chicanes. It wasn’t Devlin. It was Josh.

Josh stood in the sitting room of the reserved suite at The Hazelton, hands in his pockets, shoulders slumped yet his head held high. He looked amazing in the seven-thousand dollar suit she’d bought him.

Her legs failed her, and she sat on the bed before she collapsed. Hands on her knees, she forced herself to stand, wobbly but determined to stay upright.

It was a quarter after twelve on Monday. Devlin had told her he’d moved the Benny Chan appointment closer by a day; Monday instead of Tuesday. This was a workday. She was downtown in her killer suit and heels, her hair pulled back and shining, her lips painted red, her eyes black and fierce.

She hadn’t seen Josh in three-and-a-half days. Not a long time, unless it was spent in exile; in unknowing purgatory.

“Josh, what the— What are you doing here?” Her voice cracked. What sounded at first like disbelief, upturned in pitch to a sound of joy. Yet everything about Josh’s out-of-place presence screamed danger. She went to him, eager to touch him.

And worried he’d reject her. Worried enough, she stalled before she reached him, standing on the threshold between the bedroom and the sitting room. She couldn’t help smiling, couldn’t help the happiness. Before she touched him, she asked him, “Are you okay?”

He nodded, face serious and unfriendly—the demeanor chilling her.

She said, “What are you doing here?”

“I know it’s unexpected,” Josh said, hands still in his pockets.

This was somehow Devlin’s doing. It had to be. “Did you... Did you come here for me?”

Josh nodded again, biting his own lip, suffering under an unknown angst that emanated from him like a live wire.

She told him now, “I’m going to hug you.”

He said nothing and that hurt, but it was better than rejection. She stepped into his space, taller than him in her heels, putting her arms around him, whispering in his ear, “I missed you so much.”

He said, “I missed you, too, Kimmy.”

“You were at Meyer’s, weren’t you?”

His arms went around her and she breathed deep, feeling like hope had just illuminated the dim room.

“Yeah. I was. Of course I was.”

She stepped back, her hands on his arms. “Did you get what you need?”

His hands went back into his pockets and his upturned face dipped down, lost in thought for a moment. “I don’t know. . . . No, I didn’t.” He shook his head side to side.

“Oh, I— Can you... Can you come home?”

Josh drew a slow inhale, then let it out. His head came up again and his eyes roamed the room. He stepped past her, entering the bedroom, going around the opposite side of the bed, admiring the place, looking into the tiled bathroom, all in black. He held the attitude of a potential buyer, like he was touring the place and she was his real estate agent. He turned her way. “Is this where it happened?”

“What happened?”

“What you said to me.” He jabbed his head sideways toward the bathroom. “How you told Devlin to jerk off, and how he jerked off in the bathroom and when he came out, he put his dick against your leg.” Now he looked down at the bed, about right where she’d stood when that exact thing happened.

“Josh, what are you doing?”

“You can’t answer that? Are you ashamed?”

“Why are you doing this here and now? Why did you come here? I’m at work.” Her pulse flitted in her neck and her heart galloped. She wanted to dominate, but Josh’s absence seemed to have diminished her edge. “Why aren’t you at work?”

“I took a mental health day,” he said and strolled from the opposite bedside to the foot. She met him there.

“I really did miss you,” she said.

His smile was weak, but she was glad to see it. “I missed you, too.” His hands went to her jacket lapels, and she covered her hands over his.

“Come home tonight, Josh.”

His eyes were on their hands. “We’ll see.”

One hand slipped out from under hers and her touch her neck. He began to unbutton her shirt collar. Her hand moved over top of his but didn’t stop him, merely rode on top for a moment to see what he wanted to do. His finger slipped under the opened shirt and drew down to the next button. He undid that one. She squeezed his hand.

“Josh, we can’t. Not here. I’m... I’m at work. I’m expecting a meeting. Look at that table.” She shot her hand toward the table in the sitting room, set for four executives, with leather chairs and polished glass and all her paperwork at the ready. “Look, I have all the paperwork set up. I’m presenting, or helping, you know, Devlin present—”

“I know. I know.” Josh stepped away and returned his hands to his pockets.

“Josh, I’ll blow this meeting off,” she said. “If you want to, let’s get out of here. Let’s get our own hotel room. You can undress me. I’ll let you do anything you want to me. Anything. Say the word.”

“You’d do that?”

“I want that.”

“Because you want to get out of here, or because you want me?”

She frowned and shook her head, tried to answer a few times, but no words came. Then: “You’re manipulating me. You’re pushing me around and twisting my words.”

“It’s not too much fun, is it?”

“What does that mean?”

“I want you to unbutton your shirt.”

She narrowed his eyes, not seeing what her husband intended or what he wanted to do. “I’m at work. I can’t.”

“One more button, Kimmy. Just one more button.”

“Why?”

When she didn’t move to action, Josh stepped forward again, removed his hands from his pockets and undid the next button. She allowed him to do it, asking him again, “What are you doing?”

He smiled at the sight of her naked collar and his hand smoothed her skin. His hand was warm and welcome, but this wasn’t the time or place. He pushed aside her jacket and shirt and cupped her breast. Her nipple hardened.

He said, “What a wonderful bra you’re wearing.”

She looked down to where his hand slipped under her shirt. “So?”

He thumbed the nipple bulge. “I bet your panties match.”

She showed him a look of incomprehension.

“Maybe even garters and stockings.”

“Not with a suit, Josh.”

Josh’s cheeks puffed out, and he stepped away, turned and face into the bedroom suite, looking at the bed, unbuttoning his jacket and putting his hands on his hips.

“You’re mad at me for that?”

He turned slowly, regarding her fully, up and down. “You’re wearing lingerie because you’re going to fuck him. You’re in this room to meet Devlin.”

She scoffed. “No, I’m not.”

“To me you are. And that’s all I care about. I just care about me right now.” His voice had risen, and he’d jabbed his thumb to his chest in an angry manner. “You see, you’re my wife. You’re my wife and you’re meeting a man you’ve been having an affair with in this sweet ass hotel room. And you’re wearing lingerie.”

“I’m not having an affair, Josh.”

Josh chuckled, not a sound of amusement, more like one of hurt and suffering. “What if I told you in fifteen minutes that door was going to open again and this time Devlin would be coming in?”

“Yeah? I’m expecting him.”

“I know you are. You dressed for him.”

She shook her head in admonishment, tempered by sympathy. “I’m not dressed for him, Josh. I’m dressed for me. I told you what I like. I told you.”

“Did you shave it? Did you shave your pussy last night? Did you perfume it?” Josh’s eyes trembled and showed the shine of rising emotion.

She twisted her face into a mask of disdain, seeing her husband’s boldness crumbling. “Vulgarity doesn’t suit you, Josh.” She buttoned her shirt closed, taking her time with it. “And I swear on my life”—shirt buttoned, she fixed her gaze on him—“the very, very last thing I was thinking about today was sleeping with Devlin fucking Stone. You abandoned me. Punished me—for no good reason—you hurt me. All I thought about was you. I hoped you were okay. I hoped you were safe. I hoped you weren’t hurting. And I wanted you back. I wanted you home.”

Josh wiped his pinky eyes with the heel of a hand and looked away. The Yorkville sky painted his face in divulging gray light.

She said, “Talk to me, Josh. Let’s get out of here and talk to each other.”

“You have a meeting,” he muttered.

“Fuck it. Fuck Devlin.”

Josh looked at her and he hoped he didn’t misconstrue her phrasing.

He still faced the light coming in from the suite windows, saying, “I’ve been sleepless for days now—”

“Me too, Josh, me too,” she said consolingly. He did look so tired. If he hadn’t worn the suit she’d bought him, he would look like a zombie.

“I’ve been lying awake in Sophie’s bed every night, imagining all the ways I think you might have lied to me.”

A chill crossed her, and she shivered. She worked her stiff fingers, feeling a sense of impending. She looked to her left, the opposite of Josh, looking at the suite’s main door. “I’ve lied, Josh. I’ve lied, but I love you more than anything in this world.” Though he had a new contender, a life forming inside her. She rested a hand over her belt line, wishing she had the time and wherewithal to announce their pregnancy.

“I think it’s all been a lie. All of it.”

“Josh,” she said, sternly, stern enough he faced her again. “I love you. I would do anything for you.”

He said, “No matter the cost.”

She rolled her eyes and slumped her shoulders, shaking her head. Her gaze cast to the side again, falling on the suite’s main door. She stared at its black face for a long moment.

Something nasty occurred to her, and she faced him again, Josh with his chin raised again at a defiant angle. “You slept in Sophie’s bed?”

“She has a normal bed.”

“You didn’t sleep on the couch.”

Josh shook his head no.

“Sophie went back to Meyer’s yesterday afternoon. I dropped her off. . . . Where did you sleep last night?”

Josh said nothing, and she turned to that blank, black door once more.