Flawed Thinking

“That’s it. Show me how much you hate me,” Mark said as he watched Sela sitting, coldly, in the chair. Four months had passed since they’d last exchanged emails, over a year since they’d last touched. She knew they’d meet again. The two couples had been lovers for too long to miss his homecoming. And she knew he had relied on this moment to make it all better, to make up for ignoring her. Their spouses had left for a separate hotel room, and now here they were, alone. He’d hugged her earlier and tried to kiss her, but she’d turned her cheek to his lips, keeping her smile intact, so the others wouldn’t see her discomfort. He knew though. He couldn’t miss it. She was surprised he let them go off without skipping a beat. Normally he’d beg out of any opportunity for conflict with her or, better yet, turn the tables to convince her he didn’t care. But now he just watched Sela, expressionless.


“I don’t hate you,” she said. “Yes,” Mark responded, “You do, in a way, but you won’t in the morning.” Her eyes narrowed as she pondered the arrogance of the statement. Baited but not stirred, she thought, with a bitter, inward chuckle. She calmly reached for her drink and took the last sip. He smiled then. “I’m going to take a shower,” he said, turning his back to her. She watched as he pulled off his shirt and folded it neatly. In the time away he had broadened out and muscled up. Sela hadn't much improved her own form, and the disparity pissed her off. No wonder you couldn’t be bothered to contact me, she thought, too busy being admired. Negative thinking overwhelmed her in moments like these, and despite her recognition of the problem, she couldn’t stop it in the silence of the hotel room.


He turned to see her looking down at the floor. At least he didn’t catch me ogling, she thought. Mark came to her and reached for her empty glass. “But first,” he said as he walked to the desk, “let me make you something I learned how to make overseas.” “Not necessary,” she said, too clipped. “You’ll like it. Trust me,” he gently assured. After mixing the concoction, Mark walked over and handed Sela her drink. But instead of going off to the shower, he stood over her waiting. He was so close their toes practically touched, and she had to lean backward against the chair cushion to sip her drink comfortably. It tasted sweet but had a bitter edge… like me, Sela thought, as she looked up. Mark seemed to tower over her. He was beautiful, really, in her eyes. He had been before and was more so now, and the weakness of the realization chilled her. She steeled her eyes and smiled up at him. “Very nice,” she said, “Thank you.” Mark’s head tilted up slightly, and his eyes closed briefly. When he looked back at her his eyes had the same steel shield in place. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. Then he made his way to the bathroom and shut the door behind him.


Sela lifted her glass and downed half of her drink. This really isn’t going well, she thought. The phone in her pocket buzzed, and as she expected, her husband John had texted to check on their well-being. “How are things?” “Fine,” she texted back. “Mark is showering. What about you?” “ LOL, you’re not with him? We’re fine.

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