believe you love me. Yes, I do. Even when you were sleeping with somebody else I believe that you loved me.”
“Phillip—”
I raise my hand to stop her, and then continue speaking. “You said I was different from men you dated before. I made you laugh, I made you think, and that’s why you fell in love with me. But did I turn you on, Gwen?”
“Of course,” she responds.
I shake my head. “Not like Patrick, though. You’re a beautiful woman. You could have any man. On some level, you must have wondered to yourself how did I end up with this little drip.”
“That’s not true.”
“No? I think it is. In me, you had a man who was funny and smart, but I never really turned you on. Then someone like Patrick comes along, someone strong and tough, someone with money, a man that other people automatically respect, and he started paying attention to you. After coming home to someone like me every day all that attention from Patrick must have been very exciting.”
“Phillip, no.”
“It must have given you a thrill…this strong, handsome guy so interested in you. So, you decided ‘I’ll just flirt a little’ but it didn’t end there—no. Once you started, it felt too exciting to stop. Am I right, Gwen? Am I getting close?”
She swallows hard but does not answer.
“Am I getting close?”
“Yes,” her voice is barely a whisper, and then emphatically: “No! I don’t know. Maybe. One thing I do know is that I took you for granted. I admit it. I did not realize how wonderful you are—how right we are together. I know that now.”
“There’s something else you haven’t told me. Something you think I don’t know about.”
She looks confused. “What?”
“For the months that we were separated you led me to believe that you were crying in our empty bed, praying for me to come back. Yeah, you called me all the time…tried to work it out with me—but there’s one thing you neglected to mention: You were still with Patrick.”
She turns from me towards the dark ocean.
“Your affair with Patrick did not end the night I caught the two of you together. No, even while you called me—begging me to come back—you kept seeing Patrick—kept sleeping with him, too, I’ll bet. And how is it that I’m the one standing in front of you on this beach instead of him? Because, in the end, he didn’t want you.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she insists.
“Oh no? You’re telling me I am wrong?”
“I wasn’t with him. Not after you found out.”
I nod slowly. “Ah, but you did keep seeing him, correct? You wanted to keep me on the back burner in case your relationship with Patrick went nowhere. It took you a while, but eventually you figured out that he only wanted you for sex…he did not love you. Not like I did. That’s when you came crawling back to me. I’m not your husband. I’m your consolation prize.”
Gwen sniffles and wipes a tear from her face with the back of her hand. My words hang in the air like a storm cloud.
“Okay, yes, I guess it was exciting to be with Patrick—at first,” her tone is weary and forlorn. “But once you found out it changed everything. It wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t exciting. I felt dirty.”
“Then why’d you keep seeing him?”
“I was confused!” she wails. “I thought I’d lost you—that you were never coming back. Losing you caused me to see what a fool I’d been. I didn’t realize what an incredibly rare and beautiful thing I have with you…that we have together. I kept calling you but you wouldn’t take my calls and when you finally did, it was like talking to a statue. All the while, I had Patrick telling me to forget you. Okay, yes, it is true that I kept seeing Patrick even while I called you and tried to get you to come back to me, but I was not sleeping with him. Not anymore.”
“You expect me to believe that?” I sneer.
She is adamant. “You’re partly right when you talk about a consolation prize, but the
“Phillip—”
I raise my hand to stop her, and then continue speaking. “You said I was different from men you dated before. I made you laugh, I made you think, and that’s why you fell in love with me. But did I turn you on, Gwen?”
“Of course,” she responds.
I shake my head. “Not like Patrick, though. You’re a beautiful woman. You could have any man. On some level, you must have wondered to yourself how did I end up with this little drip.”
“That’s not true.”
“No? I think it is. In me, you had a man who was funny and smart, but I never really turned you on. Then someone like Patrick comes along, someone strong and tough, someone with money, a man that other people automatically respect, and he started paying attention to you. After coming home to someone like me every day all that attention from Patrick must have been very exciting.”
“Phillip, no.”
“It must have given you a thrill…this strong, handsome guy so interested in you. So, you decided ‘I’ll just flirt a little’ but it didn’t end there—no. Once you started, it felt too exciting to stop. Am I right, Gwen? Am I getting close?”
She swallows hard but does not answer.
“Am I getting close?”
“Yes,” her voice is barely a whisper, and then emphatically: “No! I don’t know. Maybe. One thing I do know is that I took you for granted. I admit it. I did not realize how wonderful you are—how right we are together. I know that now.”
“There’s something else you haven’t told me. Something you think I don’t know about.”
She looks confused. “What?”
“For the months that we were separated you led me to believe that you were crying in our empty bed, praying for me to come back. Yeah, you called me all the time…tried to work it out with me—but there’s one thing you neglected to mention: You were still with Patrick.”
She turns from me towards the dark ocean.
“Your affair with Patrick did not end the night I caught the two of you together. No, even while you called me—begging me to come back—you kept seeing Patrick—kept sleeping with him, too, I’ll bet. And how is it that I’m the one standing in front of you on this beach instead of him? Because, in the end, he didn’t want you.”
“It wasn’t like that,” she insists.
“Oh no? You’re telling me I am wrong?”
“I wasn’t with him. Not after you found out.”
I nod slowly. “Ah, but you did keep seeing him, correct? You wanted to keep me on the back burner in case your relationship with Patrick went nowhere. It took you a while, but eventually you figured out that he only wanted you for sex…he did not love you. Not like I did. That’s when you came crawling back to me. I’m not your husband. I’m your consolation prize.”
Gwen sniffles and wipes a tear from her face with the back of her hand. My words hang in the air like a storm cloud.
“Okay, yes, I guess it was exciting to be with Patrick—at first,” her tone is weary and forlorn. “But once you found out it changed everything. It wasn’t fun anymore. It wasn’t exciting. I felt dirty.”
“Then why’d you keep seeing him?”
“I was confused!” she wails. “I thought I’d lost you—that you were never coming back. Losing you caused me to see what a fool I’d been. I didn’t realize what an incredibly rare and beautiful thing I have with you…that we have together. I kept calling you but you wouldn’t take my calls and when you finally did, it was like talking to a statue. All the while, I had Patrick telling me to forget you. Okay, yes, it is true that I kept seeing Patrick even while I called you and tried to get you to come back to me, but I was not sleeping with him. Not anymore.”
“You expect me to believe that?” I sneer.
She is adamant. “You’re partly right when you talk about a consolation prize, but the
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