The radio flicked into life to a popular pop channel. Taking a cigarette from my bag, I lit up and then drove the car outside. A quick look around to see what oncoming traffic there was, and then I turned out into the road. Amy was off on another adventure.
The shopping centre was busy with Friday shoppers and children enjoying their lunch break from school as I walked along the tiled floors, my boots clicking loudly. I scanned the windows just as any shopper would, looking for bargains. Half an hour, an hour passed. Time for a spot of lunch, I thought. Back outside the centre, I found a café and sat at one of the tables outdoors. I lit a cigarette and scanned the menu.
Ordering a coffee and a cheese and bacon toastie, I sat back, people-watching as the crowds went about their business. A few gentlemen cast glances my way, which fed my ego and increased my confidence. As one in particular looked my way, I sexily pulled on my cigarette, the open-mouth snap inhale so sexy and inviting as he walked past. Finishing my snack, I paid the waitress, my long nails having difficulty with the change.
"First time you have had extensions?" she asked.
"Yeah, suppose I will get used to them," I said as she handed me back my change.
"Have a nice day," she said as I turned and walked back out into the bustling shopping centre.
An hour later, I was back in the car. A shoebox sat on my knee. Opening it, I took out the black patent heels I had bought, marvelling at the delicateness of them. The slight platform sole, the narrow five-inch heel, the strap running from the back of the ankle around which had a gold metal buckle. A girl can never have enough shoes, I thought to myself, which is why I had shelled out the best part of seventy-five quid for them.
I snapped out of my trance. Shit, what was I doing? I mean, in less than twenty-four hours, I would be back to boring, jobless Andrew. Taking temporary contracts to make ends meet. So why had I bought the shoes?
I really had got into character. Anyway, it was all Amy's fault for making me do this. You are lying to yourself, Andrew, I thought.
You had jumped at the chance to do it all again. Once in the blood, always in the blood, I thought to myself as I packed away the shoe and put the box on the front seat. Reaching for my bag, I took out the car keys and started the engine. I sighed. Well, Amy can take them back and get a refund, I thought as I glanced at the box once more. Backing out of my space, I turned the car and headed towards the main road.
Back home, I sat at the kitchen diner, a hot coffee in front of me, a freshly lit cigarette poking from between my red-painted fingers.
"Brrrnng." A sharp noise split the silence. I took a nervous drag and blew out the smoke.
Jesus, who could that be? Maybe I could just ignore them, and they will go away.
"Brrnng, Brrnng, Brrnng."
I rose and walked out of the kitchen. A dark shape stood behind the door. Slipping into the lounge, I edged forward. The bell rang again. I reached the window and poked my head gingerly around before drawing it back quickly. Kenneth Jackson was standing on the doorstep.
I moved back into the hallway and towards the door. Subconsciously, I think I glanced in the mirror, my hand fluffing my hair a bit before I reached for the door handle and turned it.
"Kenneth," I said as he stood with a beaming smile on his face.
"Amy, I just called round to give you the good news," he said, producing a bottle of champagne from behind him. He brandished it in the air.
"You got the contract," he said, leaning forward, his lips brushing my cheek. "Thought we might celebrate," he said. He stepped forward past me into the house. I closed the door, dumbstruck. I followed him as he walked towards the kitchen.
"So, you are pleased, then?" he said, turning to face me.
"Of course, it is great news," I replied.
"So, where are the glasses?" he said, once more brandishing the champagne in my direction.
"It is a bit early for me, and do you usually do home visits to give clients good news?" I asked, crossing my arms under my breasts. I stood and watched him.
"Uh, sorry. I thought you would want to know. Are you busy? Is your husband due home?" he asked.
"Uh, no, not till tomorrow," I said, surprised that I had answered him.
"Well, what is the harm, then? Just a little celebration drink," he said, starting to peel off the foil from the bottle.
"Uh, stop, no. I meant it. It is too early," I said, becoming a bit nervous.
"Okay, okay, if that is what you want," he said, putting the bottle down on the worktop.
"Anyway, thanks for the good news, and I will speak to you soon," I said.
He started to walk towards me and then past and towards the front door. I could sense his disappointment.
As we reached the door, he turned. "Look, if you will not have a drink with me, how about dinner again tonight?" he paused. "I mean, you did enjoy the other night, and so did I. How about it? It beats a microwave dinner for one," he said with a sort of puppy-dog look in his eyes.
I looked at him and smiled. "Uh, I am not sure. I mean..."
"What, your husband is not home till tomorrow, and he will not mind, will he? It is only business. He is not the jealous type, is he?"
"Uh, no," I stammered. "I suppose..."
"Okay, that is a date, then. Eight o'clock at the Setting Sun. I will ring and book a table, okay?" he asked, looking at me.
"Okay, then," I said with a smile on my lips.
"Good, see you then," he said, opening the door. He stepped out, closing it behind him. What the hell, I thought. It is my last night. Best make the most of it.
It took about half an hour for it to sink in that I had just agreed to go out to dinner with Kenneth again. I stood staring out the back window into the garden across our lawn. Weak sunlight lit the afternoon sky as I took a draw from my cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke towards the ceiling.
"Well, what is done is done," I said to myself in the quiet lounge. "Suppose I had better call Amy with the good news," I said, crushing out the cigarette. I walked back to the hallway.
I called the hotel and asked for Amy. After a couple of minutes listening to some inane music, her voice came on the line.
"Hi, babe. What is new?" she asked, sounding bright and chirpy.
"We have got the contract," I said.
She let out a squeal of delight. "I knew you could do it. Well done, babe."
"Thanks. What time are you coming home tomorrow?" I asked.
"Well, the flight is at three. Are you picking me up?" she asked.
"Can I? I need to go back to Sheila's and get her to fix my hair and lose these damn nails," I said.
She snickered. "Yeah, forgot about that. No worries. I will get a cab. We are in the money now anyway."
"Okay, so see you about dinner time."
"Yeah, fine. I will bring in a takeaway. Indian okay with you?" she asked.
"Fine by me. See you tomorrow."
"Yeah, see you. Oh, and Andrew, I do love you, and thanks for this week."
"Yeah, okay. I will find some way for you to make it up to me," I replied.
With a snigger, she hung up, and I replaced the receiver. I looked down at my booted feet, the leather boots tucked into the tight jeans, and reminded myself of the situation I was in. I glanced at the clock. It had just gone five thirty. Time for me to get ready. I had a dinner date to go on.
I ran a luxurious scented bath and lay back, relaxing in the feminine scented waters. The steam from the water clouded the mirror. I thought about the night ahead. There had been a certain degree of reluctance about me at first, but now, I was eagerly looking forward to my last night as Amy. I intended to make the most of it, relax, and let my feminine side take over and enjoy the experience.
Dressed in a fluffy dressing gown of Amy's, I sat down in front of the dresser and began my makeup for the night. With flawless foundation and a light dusting of powder in place, I began the task of adding the colour for the night. I wanted something noticeable, not tarty looking, but glamorous. Thirty minutes later, my eyes were made up in grey and silver eye shadow.
Dark eyeliner and mascara finished them off, with a deep burgundy red colour on my lips covered in shiny lip gloss which sparkled as the light caught it. With the French tip nails glued in place, I coloured the nail with a matching deep burgundy polish below the white tip, leaving a rather dramatic look to the long nails.
For underwear, I chose a black lacy strapless bra with matching thong panties and a suspender belt. Sheer black stockings were attached to the belt.
I looked around Amy's wardrobe for something suitable. I knew that some of her stuff would be a bit tight, and she had also taken some of her better stuff with her to the conference. Then, I remembered. Crossing back to the dresser, I opened the drawer. There it was: a lilac boned corset that I had bought her. The corset was edged in black. Looking at it, I thought, yeah, that would do. It would flatten my waist and give me a bit more shape. With something over it, it would be just the kind of thing you see women wearing today.
With the corset in place, I chose a straight black skirt with a generous split up the side which would flash a little leg. I found a little black velvet bolero-style jacket that Amy had and slipped it on. The new shoes I had bought today were a must. I had never thought I would get the chance to wear them, but as I fastened the last buckle on them, I knew I had made the right choice. I walked over to the mirror and checked out my appearance. Hot was not the word, I thought as I looked at the sight before me. God, I would fancy myself, I thought as I stared at my reflection in the mirror.
Glancing at the clock, I noticed time was pressing. Selecting some jewellery for the night, I picked up Amy's Eden perfume, spraying myself liberally. I dropped it in the bag with my cigarettes and lighter, my lipstick and a powder compact, and a purse I had already filled with some money. Turning out the bedroom light, I stepped outside and headed downstairs to await my date.
I had only been downstairs a few minutes when the telephone rang. Picking it up, I spoke. "Hello."
"Uh, hello, Amy. It is Kenneth."
"Oh, Kenneth, is there a problem?"
"No, it is just that I am sending one of the council cars over to collect you. He will be there in about fifteen minutes and drive you to the restaurant."
"Oh, there is no need. I will get a cab," I said.
"Nonsense. You just have a drink. He will be there soon. He is already on the way."
"Oh, okay, I suppose."
"Good, see you soon. I am looking forward to tonight," he said as he hung up.
With some time to spare, I lit a cigarette and poured myself some cool wine to wait. Soon, a car horn sounded. Extinguishing the cigarette and draining the last of my wine, I left the lounge.
Outside, the night was cool but pleasant. I could feel the cool air on my bare shoulders as I shivered slightly. Walking down the path, my new heels clicked on the pavement.
"Madam," the driver said as I approached, and he opened the door for me.
"Thanks," I replied as I climbed into the dark BMW, being careful to be as lady-like as possible. Inside, I sat down, crossing my legs as a lady would, my handbag on my lap. The split in the skirt opened slightly. I left it. The driver got in and started the engine, and we set off. I wondered what was going through his mind: a council leader going out for dinner with a sexy woman who was not his wife. Probably thinking, dirty old man, using his position and power to cheat on his wife. He probably saw me as the mistress, the slut, the bit on the side. Secretly, I was loving that thought and caught him glancing back once or twice as we drove on.
Soon, we pulled up outside the restaurant. I saw Kenneth finishing off a cigar as we arrived. He stepped forward as the car slowed to a halt and opened the door. I got out.
"Amy, you look ravishing," he said as he took my hand and helped me out.
I blushed slightly and said, "Thanks," as I straightened the skirt and adjusted the bolero top.
The electronic window rolled down, and the driver spoke.
"Do you want me to wait, Councillor Jackson, or come back for you?" he asked.
"No, that is okay, Graeme. We will get a cab. It could be a long night," he replied.
"Whatever you want, sir. Have a good night," he replied as the window slowly closed and I could hear the engine kick into life.
I wondered what Kenneth had meant by "a long night" as the car began to pull away. "Shall we?" he said, offering me his arm. I took it, and we walked towards the busy restaurant.
The meal was a thing of beauty. After struggling with getting used to using chopsticks with long nails, I finally got the hang of it. Conversation between us was light but refreshing. In truth, Kenneth was quite funny at times, and his stories of his life and work were entertaining. I chimed in with a few of my own, carefully recreating the characters here and there to fit my female persona.
Soon, the meal was over, and we walked from the restaurant. Like before, we lit up, Kenneth with his cigar and me with my cigarette, as we strolled along, just like any couple out for the night together.
"Amy, can I ask you something?" Kenneth asked, stopping by my side. He discarded the remains of his cigar and turned towards me.
"Sure."
"It is just that I have had a great night, and I wondered if you would like to go on to a club with me."
I hesitated.
"It is not a nightclub or anything, just a private members club I am a member of. We can get a drink, and we can smoke indoors, no bans like all your normal venues these days," he said.
"Uh, I do not know. I mean, I am married, Kenneth, and so are you, still."
"Yeah, I know, but it is just that I enjoy your company, and I think you like being with me as well."
"Well, I have enjoyed tonight, and we will not be really late, will we?"
"No, I promise. Home by midnight."
"Uh, well, okay, then."
"Great, let us go, then."
We turned and walked on. Minutes later, Kenneth reached out and took my hand, and I let him.
Chance of a Lifetime
The club was rather luxurious. After Kenneth had signed me in, we found a booth among tall pot plants. The lighting was subdued but bright enough to see those around you. It was not busy, maybe forty to fifty people scattered around the rather expansive floor area. A solitary female keyboard player played cheesy pop. She was a reasonable singer, and the volume was not too loud, allowing you to have a conversation without shouting at each other.
A waitress approached as I opened my bag and took out my cigarettes.
"A bottle of our best Chardonnay, please," he asked. "That okay with you, Amy?"
"Yeah, fine," I said, lifting the cigarette to my mouth.
"Here, let me." He produced his heavy gold lighter and flicked it into life. I pushed the cigarette tip into the flame and inhaled the menthol smoke, clinging to the back of my throat before I blew it towards the ceiling.
The waitress returned with our wine in an ice bucket. Kenneth poured, and we sat and chatted about all manner of things. I was comfortable in his company, as was he in mine. I found him intelligent, witty, and a good, interesting conversationalist. Indeed, had I been single and really a girl, I would have no doubt by now been making plans to make this a regular date.
Another bottle of wine later, and I was beginning to feel tipsy. The keyboard player had now changed the atmosphere, and slow ballads were now her choice as the night grew older. I glanced at my watch. It had just gone eleven. A few couples had now decided to dance on the small dance floor. I watched them twirl around slowly in each other's arms.
"Amy, would you like to dance?" he asked.
"Uh, well, I do not..."
"Come on," he offered me his hand. I took it, and we stepped out of the booth.
I walked to the dance floor with him. His arm encircled my waist, drew me in close. My breath went short as my breasts touched his chest. My hand rested on one of his shoulders, the other on his lower forearm. We moved slowly to the music, its sound adding to the intoxication from the alcohol. I have no idea how long we were up there. Two, maybe three different songs went by before we broke and went back to the booth.
"Maybe I had better get you home before I do something I regret," he said, looking into my eyes.
"Maybe," I replied.
I followed him out of the club, my arm linked in his as we walked a few short yards to a taxi rank to catch a cab. Soon, we were in the back of a warm taxi, driving back out of the town centre.
"I will drop you off, Amy. It is on my way."
"Okay."
We were sitting close together. I could feel Kenneth's arm rest around the back of me. I moved slightly, adjusting my skirt. The movement appeared that I was moving in closer. Kenneth's arm now slipped down and was now encircling my waist. I did not move it. I did not move away, just reclined back a little. I knew how dangerous this was, and as much as a part of my mind was telling me to start putting the brakes on this, the other half was accelerating away with the occasion.
I could see the beginning of my housing estate in the distance. A few more minutes, just hold on. Kenneth's hand moved to the side of my face, gently caressed my cheek, turned my face towards him. He was going to kiss me, I thought. He leaned forward, his lips met mine. My mind was fighting. Stop this, stop this now. But it was as if my mouth had its own mind. My lips parted. His tongue entered, filling my mouth, searching for mine. Like my lips, my tongue also had its own mind, and it met Kenneth's, and they began to dance together.
We turned into my street. His hand was gently caressing my leg, moving upwards into my lap. Stop this, stop this now, my mind screamed. Finally, my will snapped into place. I eased Kenneth back.
"We, we cannot do this," I said.
He leaned forward and whispered in my ear, "Amy, I know." I looked at him quizzically. He spoke again. "I know. I know you are a guy."
Revelations
Those last few yards to my door seemed like miles as the car crawled to a stop.
"Can I come in?" he asked.
"I am not sure that is a good idea," I said.
"Only for a little while, just to explain. We can have a glass of champagne, celebrate the contract."
I looked at him. "I am not so sure we will have it after this," I said, gesturing at my appearance.
"Five, ten minutes, that is all I ask, just to explain."
"Okay," I said, pushing the handle on the door. I began to get out.
Back in the sitting room, Kenneth asked where the champagne was. I directed him to the fridge. Tossing my little bolero jacket on a seat, I opened my bag and took out my cigarettes. My hands shook as I took one out and lit it. I really needed it at that point. Kenneth's revelation had stunned me to the core, and the fact that he still wanted to go ahead with the contract despite my deception was even more surprising.
He returned with the open bottle and two glasses and poured us each a glass.
"Here," he said, handing me the glass of bubbling clear liquid.
I had almost finished my cigarette, such was the speed I was smoking. Another followed.
"Okay, then, you wanted to talk," I said through smoke escaping my mouth.
He sat on the settee.
"So, when did you first work it out?" I asked.
"I have always known. Call it instinct."
Christ, I thought. I have been walking along all this time looking like some drag artist. People must have been having a right laugh, I thought.
"It is not that you are not convincing as a woman, you are," he added. "But I have just got a sort of radar for that type of thing."
I took a drag on the cigarette and blew out a cloud of smoke. At least my first fear was not borne out, and I had not looked stupid.
I picked up my cigarettes and lighter, an ashtray, and my glass and walked towards a chair to sit down and absorb what was going on. As I passed Kenneth, he gripped my wrist. "Here, sit down beside me. We can talk more." I sat.
"So, what about the contract and all that? You cannot seriously still be willing to give us the work after all this," I said.
"Why not? Your bid, or sorry, your wife's bid, was the best, and so was the business plan. I guess it was her idea for you to do all this," he said. I nodded. "So, there is no reason not to just go ahead as planned."
"But, I mean, I lied to you."
"It does not matter. I lied to you a bit as well."
"What do you mean?" I asked, lighting another cigarette and taking a sip of my champagne.
"Well, you know when I said that I was getting divorced? I did not tell you why."
I looked at him, puzzled by what he meant. "Not really any of my business," I replied.
"It is just that I am bisexual. I like men. The wife found out, and now she has left me. The club we were at tonight is a gay club."
"What? How? I mean, there were several women there."
"Not all of them were women." I looked at him in disbelief. "Yeah, that is right. At least one was a cross-dresser, and two or three others, including one of the waitresses, are transsexuals."
I was stunned and sat quietly. I mean, how could I not know this place existed? I mean, this was not a big city. You expect places like that in big cities, but not here.
"You know, you looked just as good and as convincing as any of those transsexuals. And, I mean, I guess it is not as if you have done this very often," he asked.
"Well, a couple of times when I was younger, but not for a long time, except one Halloween."
"And have you ever, you know..."
"What?" I asked.
"Have you ever been with a man or wanted to?" he asked.
I blushed slightly and hesitated. "Uh, no. I have never been with a man."
"You have never been curious? I mean, you seem comfortable dressed like that, and you cannot deny we have had fun together."
I became aware of his fingers running down my arm, along my leg. Shivers ran down my spine. A heat generated in my groin. He looked deeply into my eyes. Reaching over, he took the half-smoked cigarette from my fingers and stubbed it out. He was partially turned towards me. His head moved in. Our lips touched once more. Like in the taxi, my conscious sense was to stop it right there, but something deep inside was stronger. My mouth opened. We began to kiss.
The kissing went on for several minutes. I would be lying if I said I did not like it or that I was not being turned on by it. Part of me was still struggling with the urge to stop, but deep inside, I was burning with desire. It happened before I realised that I had done it. Somehow, as if by autopilot, I had unzipped Kenneth's trousers. I found my hand inside, massaging his cock. My fingers wrapped around it, running slowly and gently up the shaft.
I shifted position and got up. I looked down at him as he looked up at me. I could see desire in his eyes as he licked his lips. "You really are gorgeous, Amy."
I knelt before him. He rose and pulled away his trousers some more. His cock sprang out. My hand wrapped around it. Moving forward, my burgundy lips kissed the tip, licked, opened, sucked on the top slowly, my tongue flicking at it. An inch, then a bit more. My mouth closed tightly on it. My lips ran up and down the shaft slowly, then more urgently. I had lost all guilt about what I was doing. I wanted to taste it. I wanted to pleasure Kenneth.
I picked up speed, my tongue working on it as I ran up and down the shaft. My fingers with the long nails played with his balls, gently caressing them, then my mouth sucking them in one by one. I renewed my assault on his shaft, more urgent, more desire. I could feel him stiffen. I could hear his moan as I continued. Then, I could taste him, the salty blast assaulting the back of my throat as he exploded within my mouth.
I sat back, wiping a little cum that had run from his cock onto my chin. He looked down at me. "That was wonderful. I think we should continue this upstairs." He offered me his hand, and I stood with him and followed him.
I looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was just before three am. It had been just over three hours since we had come upstairs. I reached over and picked up a cigarette and lit it. Kenneth reached forward and planted a kiss on my forehead. "You okay?" he asked. "Yeah, fine," I said, blowing some smoke across his bare chest. We lay in silence while I thought about the last few hours.
When he had entered me at first, I had felt pain like no other. Soon, which had turned, though, to an ecstasy like no other. He was not huge in length, as you hear women crave for, but he was thick. He stretched me, and soon, when I was comfortable with his rhythm and thickness, I found myself begging for him. I begged for deeper, which he could not do. I begged for harder, which he did. And then, when he erupted inside me, I felt a warmth that I had never experienced before.
The second bout of lovemaking had been much more frantic. Passion poured from every pore of my body. I was engulfed in making him happy, pleasing him. I bucked, writhed, and moaned and drove to meet his every stroke. Then, as I thought our passion could not reach any higher, he drove once more, and I broke like a dam, my own organ spilling its seed as I moaned in complete and utter satisfaction.
"So, what now?" he said as I took a final draw from my cigarette and crushed it out.
"Sleep," I replied. "I have got a wife returning tomorrow." I switched out the light, and we snuggled closer.
Morning Breaks
I am not sure what time it was, but the sun crept across the floor as my eyes flickered open. I could feel crustiness on them. No doubt eye makeup and mascara had caked on them during my sleep. I rubbed them gently and moved my head. I rubbed them again. No, it cannot be. I stared across the room. There, standing in the doorway, was Amy.
A dressing gown hung on the door of the en-suite bathroom. Amy took hold of it and threw it across the floor.
"Put that on downstairs now," she said in a hushed voice before turning away from the door.
I got up and glanced at Kenneth, who was oblivious to what was going on and seemed still to be fast asleep.
Amazingly, before I went downstairs, I went into the bathroom and tidied up my hair. Quite why I did that, I have no idea, but it seemed like the right thing to do.
I padded downstairs in my bare feet and crossed to the lounge. Amy was standing over by the window, her arms folded under her breasts. A lit cigarette dangled from her fingertips as I entered and sat down. She took a long drag before blowing the smoke out in an angry fashion.
"Yours, I suppose," she said, picking up the cigarettes and the small disposable lighter. She tossed them at me. "Here, you had better take them. You might need one."
My hands trembled as I picked up the packet. I took one out and lit it, my fingers trembling with the cigarette between them.
"So, what do you have to say for yourself?" she said, taking a final draw from the cigarette and crushing it out.
"Uh, I can explain," I mumbled.
"Go on, then. I would love to hear it."
I took a long draw on my cigarette and blew smoke towards the floor. My eyes were finding it difficult to look directly at Amy.
"I... I just got carried away with the charade."
She laughed, a strong, harsh laugh. "Carried away? Carried away? I think sleeping with Councillor Jackson is a bit more than just getting carried away." She continued to snigger at me.
"It is your fault, anyway. You asked me to do it," I said with a tinge of anger.
"I asked you to dress up, yes. I asked you to meet him and impersonate me, yes. At which point did I ask you to fuck him to get the contract?"
The words stung. Remarkably, I could feel a slight tear tumble from the corner of my eye. This was bad. This was serious. This could be the end.
Amy moved across the room and picked up the cigarettes once more. She took one out, lit it, and sat opposite me.
"Look, Andrew, I am just a bit shocked that it has gone this far," she said, looking at me through a cloud of smoke.
"What do you mean, 'gone this far'?"
"I have got something to tell you, and you will not like it. I have been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I did not know how to."
I could feel my heart drop. I reached for the cigarettes. My hand was so nervous I dropped the packet. They fell on the floor. I picked them up, pulled one out, and lit it.
"Andrew, I still care about you, and part of me loves you, but I am leaving."
"Uh, why? We can work out what happened with Kenneth." I said, sounding a bit desperate.
"It is not about today or last night. It has been coming for some time now. I have changed, Andrew. I do not know when, gradually I think, but I need different things now."
"What do you mean, different things?" I asked.
"In bed, sexually, I have changed."
"So, I do not satisfy you anymore?" I said, drawing on the cigarette.
"Well, no, not really. I think when I started the business and became my own boss, I got so used to being the one in charge, you know, the one in authority."
She left the statement hanging. "Yeah, so what has that got to do with your sex life?" I asked.
"Well, now I need to be taken. I need to feel that when I am in bed with a man, that I am his, and he, not forces me, but he is the one in charge. I am there to pleasure him, meet his needs, not mine. You know, the complete opposite from my day, where I am in control."
I stared at her. "I could do that. I mean, remember, we tried bondage once," I said.
"No, you cannot, Andrew. As I remember it, it was my idea, and you were not comfortable with it. It is not that you do not satisfy me. You did. You probably still could, at times. But what I need is a stronger lover, someone who can overpower me, take me, make me his. God, sometimes when we play fight, I can overpower you. Andrew, you are a wonderful man, a gentle man. You are tender, affectionate, and loving. But I need more than that now."
I sat silent, letting what she had said sink in. "And have you found this Superman?" I asked, sarcasm in my tone. She did not answer but just nodded.
"So, who is it, then? Do I know them?" I half-screamed. She said nothing again, just nodded.
"I do know them, then. Who is it?" I asked.
She was quiet. "Well, who is it?"
"Does it matter?" she asked.
"It bloody matters to me. Someone sneaking around with my wife," I said.
"He was not sneaking around. In fact, I went to him," she said. Her words stung like a sharp blade had just cut me. She had instigated it. She had been the one who had started it.
"So," I said, aware that a couple of tears were running down my face.
"I was not going to tell you, but it will come out sooner or later, I suppose. So, it is Chris."
"Chris, the van driver? My mate? The bastard," I said.
"It is not his fault. He was there. If it had not been him, then it would have been somebody else."
"Do you love him?" I asked.
"I do not know. That is what this week was all about. He was with me at the conference, to see how we could get along."
"So, while I have been getting us a contract dressed like this, you have been away shagging fucking Chris?"
"Yes," she replied.
"And?"
"Oh, I do not know. I think I love him. We are going to give it a try, anyway."
I could feel another couple of tears run down my cheeks. I was so numb from the things Amy had said. I felt so betrayed by both of them, and of course, I also had a huge guilt over my part in this with Kenneth.
"Look, I need to be going. We can talk about it again when we are both calmer. I do not want the house. You can stay here if you want. I only want the business. After all, it is mine. I built it." She said as she stood up and walked towards the door.
"Amy, did you ever love me?" I asked.
She turned. "Of course I did, stupid. And a little part of me always will. But I am not in love with you anymore. We will talk again soon. It is not as if you are never going to see me again, and I hope in time we can even be friends. Oh, by the way, you remember the Halloween party?" she asked.
"Yeah, what about it?"
"Well, do you remember sneaking outside for some cigarettes and then getting kissed by Spiderman?"
"Yes."
"Well, Kenneth Jackson was Spiderman. Seems like he has had his eye on you for some time. I would think carefully about what I do next. He has a house worth about half a million and lots of cash. I will see you around, Andrew," she said as her hand turned the door knob and she stepped outside.
I stood up and walked to the window, lighting a cigarette as I went. I gently pulled back the curtains an inch or so. I could hear Amy's heels click on the path. She went behind a white transit van, and then I could see her climb in. She leaned across and kissed Chris on the mouth. The sound of an engine coming to life filled the air, and then the van drove off.
I stood and watched it disappear. A couple of tears escaped and ran down my cheeks. I looked around the deserted lounge that had once been ours, the furniture we had picked together, the photograph on the table of us on holiday one year. A couple more tears emerged as I drew on the cigarette. How had it all come to this? Why had I not noticed the change in Amy? Maybe it was because I was too wrapped up in trying to get myself another job and be the provider that I never noticed that she had become the dominant partner in the relationship.
I took a final drag from the cigarette and crushed it out. Wrapping the dressing gown around me to keep out the chill that was in the air, I left the room and climbed the stairs. I stopped at the bathroom and went inside. I looked in the mirror. Some of my makeup had run a bit. I tidied up my face and then went back to the bedroom and opened the door. Kenneth lay propped up on a pillow.
"You okay?" he asked.
"I guess," I said.
He held open the blankets, and I walked over. Dropping the dressing gown on the floor, I slipped in beside him.
His arms went around me, and he drew me towards him. Mine went around his back as we hugged, my head, my chin resting on his shoulder.
"I guess it is just you and me now," he said.
"I guess," I replied as another couple of tears escaped my eyes.
Epilogue.
Six months later
I stood in front of the full length mirror in Kenneth's bedroom, turning slowly from side to side. The woman staring back at me had changed in ways I never could have imagined. My hair, now a shade lighter and styled in soft waves, fell past my shoulders. The face looking back was smooth, the faint shadow of a beard long gone thanks to the laser treatments Kenneth had paid for as a birthday gift. My body had shifted too, the muscles softening, the waist narrowing just a little from the corset training I had taken up almost as a hobby.
I still thought of myself as Andrew sometimes, usually in the early mornings before the makeup went on. But those moments were becoming rarer. The hormones had been my idea, not Kenneth's. He had been surprised when I brought it up, then supportive, then delighted. The changes were subtle but real. My skin was softer. My breasts, small but undeniably there, filled a B cup nicely. My voice, already high, had found a new register that felt more natural than my old one ever had.
The door opened behind me, and Kenneth stepped in, still knotting his tie. He was sixty two now, retired from the council, and looking every day of it, but his eyes still had that spark.
You are going to be late for your appointment, he said, coming up behind me and resting his hands on my hips.
Dr. Simmons can wait, I replied, leaning back against him. She is the one who said I needed to take more time for myself.
He chuckled and kissed my neck. How is the novel coming?
Slowly. I wrote two thousand words yesterday, then deleted fifteen hundred this morning. The main character is being difficult.
She sounds like someone I know, he said, smiling.
I turned in his arms and straightened his tie. The gesture felt natural now, as did the way I looked up at him through my lashes. We had settled into a rhythm over the past half year, a domesticity that surprised us both. He had his golf and his cigars. I had my writing and my twice monthly shopping trips to the city. Together we had dinner parties, hosted his old colleagues, and pretended not to notice when they whispered about us.
The divorce had been finalised three months ago. Amy got the business, as she wanted. I got the house, though Kenneth had insisted I sell it and move in with him. The money from the sale sat in an account I rarely touched. I did not need it. Kenneth was generous, and I had started to earn a little from freelance editing work, enough to feel independent.
And Chris? He and Amy had lasted all of eight weeks. She had called me, drunk and crying, one night in the second month. I had listened, said little, and hung up feeling nothing but a dull ache that faded by morning. We did not speak again after that.
The last I heard, she had sold the business to a competitor and moved to Spain with a woman she met at a yoga retreat. Good for her, Kenneth had said when I told him. She was never right for you.
I had wanted to argue, but he was right. The Andrew who had loved Amy was a ghost now, a character in a story I had closed.
I looked at my reflection one more time. The woman there was not Amy. She was not Andrew. She was someone new, someone still learning her own name.
Come on, I said, taking Kenneth's hand. Let me make you a coffee before I go.
He smiled and followed me downstairs.
The kitchen was bright with morning sun. I moved to the counter, my heels clicking on the tile, and measured out the beans. Kenneth sat at the table, reading something on his phone, occasionally glancing up at me with that look I had come to know so well.
I poured the coffee and set his mug in front of him, then sat down across the table, crossing my legs as I always did now without thinking.
What are you thinking about? he asked.
I was thinking about Halloween, I said. About Spiderman.
He laughed. You were very convincing, you know. Even then. Especially then.
I did not even know I was being watched.
That was the best part, he said, reaching across the table to take my hand. The ones who do not know they are beautiful are the most beautiful of all.
I squeezed his fingers and looked out the window. The garden needed tending. The roses were overgrown. I made a mental note to call the gardener.
There was a knock at the front door.
I looked at Kenneth. Are you expecting someone?
No. He frowned and stood up. Stay there.
He walked out of the kitchen. I heard him open the door, heard a woman's voice, familiar but strained.
Hello, Kenneth. Is he here?
Amy.
My heart dropped. I stood slowly, smoothing down my skirt, and walked to the hallway.
She looked thinner than I remembered. Her hair was shorter, darker, and there were lines around her eyes that had not been there before. She wore a simple dress and flat sandals, and she carried a small suitcase.
Hello, Andrew, she said. Or whatever you are calling yourself now.
Amy, I said. My voice came out steady, which surprised me.
She looked me up and down, taking in the dress, the heels, the makeup, the hair. Her expression was unreadable.
I need a place to stay, she said. Just for a few days. I have nowhere else to go.
Kenneth glanced at me. I could see the question in his eyes.
I looked at Amy, at this woman who had once been my entire world, and felt nothing but a quiet sadness, the kind you feel for a stranger in pain.
There is a hotel on the corner, I said. I can lend you the money for a week.
Her face crumpled for just a second, then smoothed. She nodded slowly.
Okay, she said. Okay.
She turned and walked back down the path, dragging her suitcase behind her. I watched her go, then closed the door.
Kenneth put his arm around my shoulders. You did the right thing, he said.
I know, I said.
But I was not sure I did. I was not sure of anything except this: the woman in the mirror was real, and she was not going anywhere.
I leaned into Kenneth and let him hold me, and the morning sun poured through the windows, warm and golden, like the beginning of something I had not yet learned to name.