the distance and Jessica felt like a thief as she scurried away unseen towards her bungalow.
The clock on the nightstand read four-twelve. Joel was softly snoring and Jessica tiptoed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She felt hollow as she washed off the sweat. Soreness pervaded her body and she was reminded of Martin’s hands against her skin and the fullness of his cock inside her. Her tears washed down the drain with the shampoo and the bathwater.
---
The couple spent their final day on the island apart. Joel was off snorkeling and Jessica stayed inside the room. Like yesterday, the foam of the surf settled on the white sand. Swimmers still fluttered in the warm ocean water and anglers tended their lines patiently waiting for a rod to bend. Jessica gave it all a pass. She was compelled instead to sit alone wondering if she had destroyed her new marriage before it had a chance. How long can you lie about this? Do you even want to be married ? She fidgeted on the sofa and counted the tiles on the ceiling.
Lunch and dinner passed her by. Jessica had lost her appetite. When he didn’t return to the room Jessica assumed that Joel ate at the bar. Her stomach lurched when she remembered the brazen kiss she had shared with Martin at that establishment. She could taste the bile as her diaphragm threatened to expel what little remained in her stomach. She grasped the molded plastic ridge of the wastebasket but did not throw up. It was a dry heave, a false alarm. The fact that Jessica had become a hollow person, a cardboard cutout flimsy and empty, kept her insides from being vomitously ejected. She wiped the spit from her lip, lay on the cold tile floor, and resolved to put last night’s encounter behind her; to bury it so deep that the body could never be exhumed.
Joel returned late. He undressed and crawled into bed beside his wife. Thirty minutes later, she could tell from his breathing that he was not yet asleep.
“We’ll take care of this, Joel. We’re going to visit your doctor as soon as we get home.” She was crying but her back was to him, and he had no idea.
“Yep,” he said. “I know.” His voice was emotionless and lifeless. Jessica wanted to grab him and kiss him and beg for forgiveness.
“I love you. We can get through this thing.” When she rolled over to face her husband, he was on his side, looking towards the dull beige wall.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Let’s stop worrying. We’ll find out on Monday.” He didn’t sound like he believed it. Jessica thought he sounded frightened.
“Okay,” she snuggled up to his back and rested her forehead on his shoulder.
“Good night, Jessica.”
It was morning. Jessica could hear the fan turning. A blade was slightly out a balance and the mechanism croaked a lonely “ whomp , whomp ” on each revolution. Jessica lay on her back. She counted three thousand “ whomps ” before giving up and heading to the bathroom.
Jessica made a pot of coffee and set out a cup along with the little canister of sugar for Joel. She busied herself at the sink washing dishes while he dragged himself out of bed. She wiped the cupboards and the countertops, scrubbed the faucet and laid the little cloth out to dry. The pair didn’t speak.
Their flight was early. Jessica allowed herself to be distracted by the process of checking out and arranging transport to the airport. She inventoried their tickets and passports constructing neat and geometrically perfect piles of their papers on the little table near the door.
They packed their bathroom things in the suitcase. Jessica made one last circuit through the drawers and cabinets before locking up the room. Joel wheeled the big bag out the door and she jogged after him, catching him at the corner of the building.
The clock on the nightstand read four-twelve. Joel was softly snoring and Jessica tiptoed into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She felt hollow as she washed off the sweat. Soreness pervaded her body and she was reminded of Martin’s hands against her skin and the fullness of his cock inside her. Her tears washed down the drain with the shampoo and the bathwater.
---
The couple spent their final day on the island apart. Joel was off snorkeling and Jessica stayed inside the room. Like yesterday, the foam of the surf settled on the white sand. Swimmers still fluttered in the warm ocean water and anglers tended their lines patiently waiting for a rod to bend. Jessica gave it all a pass. She was compelled instead to sit alone wondering if she had destroyed her new marriage before it had a chance. How long can you lie about this? Do you even want to be married ? She fidgeted on the sofa and counted the tiles on the ceiling.
Lunch and dinner passed her by. Jessica had lost her appetite. When he didn’t return to the room Jessica assumed that Joel ate at the bar. Her stomach lurched when she remembered the brazen kiss she had shared with Martin at that establishment. She could taste the bile as her diaphragm threatened to expel what little remained in her stomach. She grasped the molded plastic ridge of the wastebasket but did not throw up. It was a dry heave, a false alarm. The fact that Jessica had become a hollow person, a cardboard cutout flimsy and empty, kept her insides from being vomitously ejected. She wiped the spit from her lip, lay on the cold tile floor, and resolved to put last night’s encounter behind her; to bury it so deep that the body could never be exhumed.
Joel returned late. He undressed and crawled into bed beside his wife. Thirty minutes later, she could tell from his breathing that he was not yet asleep.
“We’ll take care of this, Joel. We’re going to visit your doctor as soon as we get home.” She was crying but her back was to him, and he had no idea.
“Yep,” he said. “I know.” His voice was emotionless and lifeless. Jessica wanted to grab him and kiss him and beg for forgiveness.
“I love you. We can get through this thing.” When she rolled over to face her husband, he was on his side, looking towards the dull beige wall.
“I’m sure it’s nothing. Let’s stop worrying. We’ll find out on Monday.” He didn’t sound like he believed it. Jessica thought he sounded frightened.
“Okay,” she snuggled up to his back and rested her forehead on his shoulder.
“Good night, Jessica.”
It was morning. Jessica could hear the fan turning. A blade was slightly out a balance and the mechanism croaked a lonely “ whomp , whomp ” on each revolution. Jessica lay on her back. She counted three thousand “ whomps ” before giving up and heading to the bathroom.
Jessica made a pot of coffee and set out a cup along with the little canister of sugar for Joel. She busied herself at the sink washing dishes while he dragged himself out of bed. She wiped the cupboards and the countertops, scrubbed the faucet and laid the little cloth out to dry. The pair didn’t speak.
Their flight was early. Jessica allowed herself to be distracted by the process of checking out and arranging transport to the airport. She inventoried their tickets and passports constructing neat and geometrically perfect piles of their papers on the little table near the door.
They packed their bathroom things in the suitcase. Jessica made one last circuit through the drawers and cabinets before locking up the room. Joel wheeled the big bag out the door and she jogged after him, catching him at the corner of the building.
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