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“I had sex with him and it was good. It was satisfying, it was – it was the best fuck I’ve been given in a long time.”
Danny winced and swallowed down a mouthful of whisky, the sting burning all the way down his gullet. His stomach felt empty, twisting in a way that made him want to throw up. He knew he should feel angry but he couldn’t muster up that emotion. Ice chinked in the bottom of the glass as he rested his hand back down on the arm of the chair.
He couldn’t even look at her.
“Haven’t you got anything to say Daniel?” Rachel asked him and he could hear it in her voice, the need for him to get angry, to say something about the affair; the need for him to fight for their marriage. “I fucked another man in our bed and you’re just going to sit there-.”
“It’s been a long day Rache,” Danny sighed, taking another sip of whisky in order to savour the flavour a little longer. “I assume Grace is sleeping at my parents.”
“Of course, I’d never-,” Rachel began, unnerved by his calmness.
“I know you wouldn’t,” Danny assured her. Even she wouldn’t stoop so low as to expose her affair to Gracie.
“Don’t you even care Danny?” Rachel asked him, taking a few steps closer. He could smell the thickness of her perfume, applied more liberally than usual. Possibly to hide the smell of the other man, this ‘Stan’ who had swooped under his nose and made house with her. “Is this what we have become?”
“This is what you’ve reduced our marriage too,” Danny replied matter of factly. “What’s that saying, ‘Revenge is a dish best served cold’.”
“Is that why you think I’ve done this? Revenge?” Rachel asked defensively.
“Isn’t it?” Danny shrugged. “You’ve accused me for months about being married to my job, of putting the job first – so you fuck me over by going with another man, like somehow that makes things even between us.”
“Doesn’t it?” Rachel questioned and god damn her and her god damn holier than thou attitude. Danny clenched his hand tighter around the glass, carefully aware how close he was to breaking it between his fingertips. His pride was beginning to waver, the alcohol breaking down his resolve not to lose his shit.
“My going out to work every day to provide for my family, protecting my family,” Danny said, placing his glass on the side table and pushing himself to his feet, finally looking her straight in the eye. “You think I love dealing with murderers every day? Seeing the things I see every fucking day? Do you think I get a kick out of it? Do you think I get pleasure from my job?”
Rachel didn’t reply, mouth thinning tightly as she glared at him, and he felt a thrum of anger that she still considered herself as having the upper hand.
“I go to work every day to protect you and our daughter,” Danny continued calmly. “I’m sorry you seem to class that in the same context as me cheating on you.”
He moved past her, too exhausted from his day to argue further.
“You stopped paying attention,” Rachel said quietly.
Danny gave a small hollow laugh and shook his head, “Obviously. I’m a fucking Detective and I couldn’t even see my own wife was having an affair.”
“Where are you going?” Rachel questioned.
“I’ll crash at Matty’s tonight,” Danny told her.
“Don’t you want to stay and talk about this?” Rachel asked him in surprise.
“Nothing to talk about,” Danny said as he pulled on a coat. It was late fall and the nights came in cold, though the brisk walk a couple of blocks to Matty’s place would clear his senses he supposed. “You win Rache, congratulations, you got what you wanted.”
“What is it you think I wanted Danny?” Rachel asked him, following him to the door as he pocketed his keys and cell phone.
“My attention.”
~ fin ~