James realises his wife and her bestie, has something else going on. Something dark.
…
I know what you are thinking.
This is another one of those wife sharing story. Wife good friend pretend to be gay, get close to her, then secretly take advantage of her.
She feels he’s more toned, more well built, knows how to groom himself properly and what not, then compares with her useless husband. Maybe the story will end with a climax of her having sex with her gay bestie or maybe a gangbang with a few well built, Hydrox crazy guys while i watch on.
Unfortunately, it’s not going to pan out like this.
I wish it would though, but it’s complicated.
I have always believed I was a reasonable man.
I have never raised my voice at Tricia in three years of marriage. I signal when changing lanes, when people signal to cut in, i won’t purposely speed up just to cut him off. When people take a bit longer at the crossing despite the light turning in my favor, i won’t sound the honk.
Somemore i’m driving a BMW, a car where the signal fluids always run out for many others.
I am, by most observable metrics, the kind of person who does not create drama, does not harbour unreasonable jealousies, and does not drive like someone who cannot afford the COE and car but die die want to own a continental badge to make up for the lack of testicle size.
The point is that I thought of myself as someone who had, through modest effort and reasonable self awareness, arrived at some understanding of who he was and what he needed.
I was married to a woman I loved.
I had a job I didn’t hate.
I had friends I saw on weekends and a beautiful, hot, and capable wife.
Most important of all, i’m healthy.
When it comes to life partner, it’s usually like this.
A combination of 2 traits.
You want your wife to be hot and capable, she will not be a homely person. You want her to be hot and homely, she probably will not be some high flying executive. And if she’s career minded, and managing the household well, she’s probably not hot.
I struck the lottery, i got all 3.
Tricia is not only a high flying executive, she’s beautiful, sexy and super sweet. At home she becomes something else entirely, the woman who remembers which mug I prefer and leaves it out, who laughs at her own jokes before she finishes telling them, who falls asleep mid sentence when she’s tired. And she helps out with the housework.
Her looks? Wah lan eh, how to even being talking about how she looks.
She is petite but carries herself tall, black hair cut clean at the jaw, the kind of cut that looks chic and costs more than it should.
Her face has that quality of an international model.
Even when she wears something simple like a white blouse and skirt she looks like she belongs on the cover of something.
In a coffee shop she looks like the most interesting person in it.
And her legs, my god, she has legs that I have, on more than one occasion, lost a sentence to mid conversation.
You know the feeling? You talk about something, then suddenly watches the woman cross her legs, it happens in slow mo in your head and then you forget whatever you were talking earlier?
That’s the version of her I thought I knew completely.
I thought I knew my wife.
Then Tricia came home one evening and said;
Tricia : I want you to meet Gabe properly. I’ve been putting it off because I knew you’d be weird about it.
Gabe, is Tricia’s best friend.
Gabe had existed on the periphery of our marriage for as long as I could remember. A name that came up often. A presence I’d registered in photographs on her phone. There’s a shitload of selfies of the both of them because they were as close as ‘sisters’
I’d met him in the way you meet people you are not yet ready to meet, at the door, on the way out, a handshake and a smile, those hi, bye, nice to see you, bye bye kind of meet.
Tricia had managed this carefully. I understood that without it ever being said directly.
She knew me well enough to know that ‘properly’ meeting Gabe required me to have arrived somewhere first.
As in mentally ready to behave like a fucking adult and not judge her friend’s sexual orientation.
Yes Gabe is Gay, openly so. I’ve seen him hold hand with his boyfriends which he changes like underwear. I’ve see him tongue kiss a man in his car.
My eyes just went wide and i froze until Tricia had to drag me away.
I’ve seen Gabe fingering his partner’s ass at a cafe booth while giggling.
Outside the pants la, no naked butt.
How does a husband react to a man going into the changing room with his wife? Ya, Gabe goes into fitting room with my wife.
How will you react?
Surely you will flip right?
But how do i react to Gabe doing it when my wife is trying on sports bra?
How to react?
I also donno how to react.
Is he pretending? i don’t know, i know one thing though, he stares at my crotch more often than he looks at my wife’s legs and breast.
Tricia could be wearing a flare skirt so short, that she’s giving everyone heading up the escalator a upskirt show but Gabe, standing beside me, was interested if i work out my forearms in the gym that morning.
How?
How does one react to this?
I tell you the icing on the cake.
I once saw Gabe watching porn on his phone. My god, it was a sausage fest, and he was grinning and biting his lips. I had nightmares for a week after that.
Tricia knew i was not comfortable around Gabe, so she always did her best to keep our interaction at a minimum, but after dating for 1 year and married for 3, i can’t put off the meeting any longer.
One evening she came home, set her bag on the counter, and said it like it was already decided;
Tricia : I think it’s time you and Gabe properly hung out. Not the hello goodbye thing. Actually hung out.
James : We hang out fine what?
Tricia : You shook his hand for four seconds at my birthday and then talked to Marcus the rest of the night.
James : Marcus is very interesting.
Tricia : James…
James : I won’t be weird about it.
She looked at me for a moment
Tricia : You’re already doing the face.
James :Simi face?
She let it go. Which meant she had already arranged the brunch.
Gabe arrived two Sundays later for brunch.
He brought a bottle of wine.
He looked like he stepped out of some men’s skincare magazine, and he kissed Tricia on both cheeks before he’d even looked at me.
KNN, come my house and kiss my wife. You can accept this?
But how? how should i react? I don’t know. I can’t possibly punch him can i?
I shook his hand and tried not to catalogue what I was feeling. I failed at that.
The thing about Gabe was that he was magnetic in the way beautiful people are magnetic.
He and Tricia moved around each other in the kitchen she passed him things before he asked, he finished sentences she’d abandoned.
I stood with my wine and watched.
Gabe looked more at home than me in that kitchen.
It was not quite jealousy. It was the feeling adjacent to jealousy. The feeling of standing slightly outside something you do not fully understand.
You know sometimes as men, we see pretty girls, we steal a glance, look at her face, her breast, her legs, then quickly look away, trying not to look guilty?
Wah lan eh, Gabe was doing that to me.
I looked down and realised i was still wearing my sleep shorts without underwear.
I fucking went and changed immediately, putting on the thickest underwear i had before coming out.
Brunch was ok, nothing happened.
We went to dinner the following Saturday, the three of us. Gabe sat on Tricia’s side of the booth, which bothered me more than I wanted it to.
They shared a dessert. At one point he put his hand over hers when she was laughing, the way you do when the laughter becomes too much and you need to hold something, and I looked at the door.
I told myself, he’s gay. It doesn’t count.
I saw him with his boyfriend outside a restaurant on Cantonment Road before, a man named Daniel. They were holding hands. Gabe kissed him. I was like 10m away, pretending to check my phone.
Then i saw Daniel grab his buttock and they walked into a hotel.
I cannot un-see that. Then now the same person is leaning against my wife, linking arms with her, laughing and taking selfie.
How to you come to terms with something like this?
One thing for sure, Tricia loved Gabe, as a friend. A really close one, and who am i to judge her for it?
But somehow, i have this feeling in my gut, like there is something more going on. Someone i cannot put my finger to.
Then one night, i finally discovered something.
Something that almost blew me off my feet.
I finished my shower at the common bathroom and crawled into bed.
I logged in to read erotic stories online and Tricia was in the shower. Her phone was faced down on the bed vibrating. It’s not a call, but it was a message.
I picked it up to silence it.
The screen was already on. A video, paused midway, the thumbnail catching my eye before I could put it down again.
I don’t know what I expected.
Suspicion is the maintenance fee of loving someone, the small tax you pay for caring what they do when you’re not there. Don’t pretend you were never curious about your spouse.
In my most honest moments I had imagined, if Tricia cheats on me with Gabe, i will expect to see them having sex. Maybe she will be giving him a blowjob or something. That is the definition of cheating isn’t it? The act of physical intimacy.
Maybe behind closed doors, Gabe’s fake gay act comes off, he suddenly becomes some manly hunk and fucked my wife while she scream and moan.
Something like this is straightforward.
I was not prepared for what the screen showed me.
It was a room I did not recognise.
Tricia, standing, fully dressed in a blouse I knew paired with dark trousers.
Her posture though, was different from any posture I had ever seen her hold.
Gabe, kneeling on the floor in front of her.
His face turned slightly down. Her arms at her sides. Neither of them speaking, at least not in the portion of the video I could see.
And then, slowly, with a deliberateness that seemed almost ceremonial, he lowered his head further and pressed his lips to her heel.
She did not move. She did not look down.
And Gabe just kept kissing her high heels.
Inside my head, my brain was screaming 4 words.
What
the
holy
fuck?
coming soon