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She was lying under the covers on their four poster bed, back propped up against the headboard. She was reading a book, erotica of course. What else did middle-aged women who were sexually deprived read? Except she was more than sexually deprived. She was starving. The only release she ever got was from herself, never from his hands.
He really thought she didn’t notice. It all started with the smell of Marlboro’s. The smell stained his jacket, not coming out no matter how many times she washed it. Perhaps someone he worked with smoked heavily. Or maybe it was the bar he frequented. She never commented on it, just hanging it neatly in the closet with his other dreary colors.
Then it was an unfamiliar cologne. She asked him about this one.
“When did you start wearing this kind?” She was snuggled up next to him on the couch, desperate for him to touch her. He could not have been more distant if he tried.
“Just recently.” He didn’t even flinch. She chose to let it go, nuzzling her head into his neck before placing light kisses to his skin. He sighed, but not out of pleasure, out of annoyance.
“Trina.” He growled. She thought it was her fault. She wasn’t desirable enough, or she was too touchy. He always had a problem with her advances. Trina had no clue why a man would resist a half-naked woman before him until he came home with the bruises on his neck.
That one ended in a glass being smashed. She shouted at him, asking him why he would sneak off with other women when they had a child at home. He deflected, bullying her for her frequent meltdowns and high sex drive. He said that she was expecting too much from him.
It was a bad fight, and Marvin did not come back that night.
As Trina recalled the previous night, she felt tears prick her eyes. How did her life spiral so much? All she wanted was a simple Jewish family. A loving husband and a precious son. She was supposed to be the trophy wife. He was supposed to show his co-workers the photos of her that he kept in his wallet, proud of her. He was supposed to come home and make love to her, showing her exactly how much he appreciated her.
He did nothing of the sort. The only thing she had was Jason. He was the only good thing to come out of their marriage.
She heard a knock on the door.
Marvin entered, still wearing the clothes he was wearing when he threw the glass at her head. She closed her eyes, stilling herself.
“I’m sorry.”
Trina went back to reading her book, not paying him any mind.
“You were gone the entire night and half of the day.”
He rubbed his face with his hands, an action that made him appear even older than he was. Did she cause him to age so fast? She almost didn’t recognize him as the dorky, scrawny she married, with a tiny, baby bump.
“I stayed with a friend.” Trina wondered if that friend had pleasured him in a way she couldn’t. “I didn’t mean the things I said, baby. I was just tired.” He took notice of the book in her hands.
“Why are you reading that?” He scowled, as if he had the right to.
“Don’t you dare tell me what I can read when you are off having sex with some whore every other night.” She spat, slamming the book shut, throwing it onto the nightstand. He looked taken aback with her sudden hostility. He suddenly look smaller, the warm shadows hollowing his features.
“I want to be with you.” He said suddenly. Confusion painted her features.
“What?”
He approached her, beginning to take off his buttoned shirt. She realized, and suddenly it didn’t matter that he was pressing his lips to others when he left for work. All of her worries washed away as he kissed down her neck.
She was emotional. They hadn’t had sex in years. Feeling his warm hands against her made her nostalgic, when they were just in high school fooling around.
He kissed down her sternum after he removed her shirt and she smiled, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back. Her heart was surely beating far harder than it should.
“Turn around.”
Trina opened her eyes to look at him. She began to flip over onto her stomach, but then it hit her. As he was kissing down her spine, she remembered the cigarettes, the cologne, the hickeys. They made sense each in their own regard, but put together? It was obvious. Her face contorted as she held back tears.
“Marvin. Don’t pretend I’m something else.”
She was facing him, eyes watery.
He looked at her with a blank expression.
“I’m not.” He tried to distract her, kissing her stomach, but she stopped him.
“Then look at me.” She held his face in her hands, eyes searching his face desperately. “There is only a small piece of me that still feels like a woman. Look at me.” She whispered, begging for her husband to want her.
“Trina, why do you have to do this? The one time I try to give you what you’ve been begging for and you make it an argument. God, you are so selfish!” He yelled, pulling his shirt back on, walking out the door and slamming it.
Trina suddenly felt very exposed. She yanked the covers up to shield her chest. She began to cry, mourning a lost love. Not only was she losing her husband to another person, but she was losing him to a man. All of those years together. They weren’t happy, but she felt like they were close enough for him to tell her. So she could be free. But here he was, keeping her pinned down.
Marvin was gone another night, and Trina cried herself to sleep another night.
The cycle continued.