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Everybody Needs a Work Husband

Everybody Needs a Work Husband

I met her. I haven't told Mike yet. But I did. Last week.

And she's pretty, dammit. I'd love to have hair like hers—long, straight, black. That kind of hair that shines, so black it seems blue. I figure she's probably South American or something, though she didn't have an accent, so I don't know.

Her ass is smaller than mine.

Anyway.

She was at the JCC. On the stairs. I took the machine next to her. She clearly didn't know who I was, which kind of surprised me. We talked about workout regimens. I asked would she mind telling me about hers. Because, I said, she obviously had a good one. I asked her if she always did the stairs or did she ever do any of the other machines. She said usually just the stairs, but sometimes she also ran.

She said she had a dog and sometimes she liked to run with him. I didn't mention I had a dog, too. Or that its name was Honey.

I asked when did she think the best time of day was to workout. Because, I said, I only have time in the morning, like right now. She said she sometimes worked out twice a day. The mornings, and then sometimes in the evening. She said she knew a guy who worked out in the evenings and sometimes she'd come to meet up with him. But mostly she thought the mornings were the best time because it helped her get the day started. I said I felt the same way. I said if I had a guy to meet, though, I might change my mind.

She laughed. And so did I.

Anyway.

It's sort of weird to say, but I liked her. I didn't want to, but I did. She's really...nice. I mean, if it's going to be anybody, I'm glad it's her.
I told Linda that, and she thinks I'm crazy. Like, what? Am I supposed to become angry? And make ultimatums. People expect you to behave like you're in some soap opera. God.

Linda watches too much TV. She just doesn't get it.

That I'm not jealous. That I don't want to kill him. But he's not in love. I know this. I know because I have somebody, too—a work husband. Jake. We have lunch together. We go out for drinks. We quit smoking together. He's married, too. So we vent about our lives, about our spouses. We flirt. We've never had sex, but we might. We've talked about it. I'm not ruling it out. I'd love something that isn't weighed down by a mortgage, and cars, and a decision about whether or not to be parents. I need something without a Future. It's something Mike can't give me. Not anymore.
So the idea of an affair of some kind is appealing. But it just seems so messy, at the same time. Especially with somebody at work.

Anyway.

Linda says I'm wrong about wanting an affair. She says I'm wrong about my attitude toward Mike. She says my spouse should be my everything. She says that's what Al is to her.

I kind of think she's lying. Or delusional. You would too if you knew Al.

But deep down, I guess I'm scared that she's neither.

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