Married to Lust.

Three.

       The hangover woke me up early on Friday morning. I pulled a pillow over my eyes until the room stopped spinning so fast. Images of the night before whirled through my hazy mind and a heavy feeling settled in my stomach.

I sat up on the couch, rubbing at my stiff neck, and glanced around the room. The memory of Alex driving me home comes back and everything that followed flooded my mind. I get up and cross the room to peer out the front door only to see that my Jeep is in the drive way. Clealy remembering sitting in Alex's truck, I slip on my house shoes and go outside.

I approached my Jeep catiously at first then more quickly as curiosity got the best of me. The driver side door was unlocked and the keys sat atop a folded white note. I palmed my keys and opened the note.

Sorry

- A.

I sighed and wadded the note in to a ball and tossed in to the back seat. I locked my Jeep up and decided I desperately needed a shower, because I could smell the alcohol beading on my skin.

Inside our master bathroom, I started a bath and stripped my dress off from last night. I opened the closet door to throw the soiled cloth in the hamper, but stopped when I seen Vic's reserve uniforms hanging in front of my eyes. I let the dress drop to the floor and I pushed some of his clothes aside, my fingers exploring the surface, trying to remember something good. A flicker of a memory edged its way to the front of my thoughts and I pulled one of Vic's old work out shirts off a hanger. It was innocent looking enough, much like Vic was in the beginning of our relationship.

I brought the shirt to my nose and inhaled. There was only a trace of him left on the linen and it brought tears to the edges of my eyes. He wasn't always so bad. He wasn't always so cruel.

On our first date he'd taken me to dinner, kissed my cheek, and held my hand with gentle fingers as he walked me home. I remember the joy on his perfect face as he told me he'd been accepted in to the police academy; something he'd always dreamed of.

" I'll be able to help people, Liz." He'd told me all those years ago. " I'll be able to protect you."

God, I was so naive and stupid then. To think that something so good and perfect would last. I glanced down at my wedding band. A plain white gold band. I had never been without it. Even though Vic had been an awful husband, he was still my husband and that had to count for something. Right?

Remembering Alex's hands on my body - a body I'd promised to Vic- made me shudder with shame and I put his shirt back on the hanger and tended to my hot bath.

I slipped beneathe the water, struggling to come to terms with what it was that I wanted from Alex anyway. Comfort, tenderness, or maybe even just casual sex. He'd always been in my life, ever since becoming Vic's partner. Hell, he was the best man at our wedding. Back then, I'd half a mind to try and set him up with Vic's sister, Shana. Alex had merely said she wasn't his type and he was comfortable being alone. Vic and I had still managed to get them to share a dance at our reception. They had both looked incredibly uncomfortable.

I couldn't help but feel like I was betraying my late husband, but I also think that's part of the reason I had been so bold. He'd tried so hard to hide me away from the world, from his friends, from his family, and now all I wanted to do was to get out there and scream, " I'm here!"

I let my head loll against the rim of the tub, turning the faucet off with my toes, and sighed loudly. I wondered if I should call my mom and see if she'd be interested in rekindling our relationship. Then again, Vic had distanced me from my family and we'd never been on super good terms from the beginning. The very real feeling of being utterly alone ate at me like a slow gnawing of a predator that really wanted to savor the flavor of its prey.

I closed my eyes and dunked my head under the steaming water, washing away last nights grime and regret.

When the water finally went cold, I wrapped a towel around myself and returned to my bedroom to get dressed. I'm sure I was forgetting some kind of errand I needed to do before I had to return to work on Monday. I contemplated taking another week just so I wouldn't have to face my co-workers, or the world.

I noticed my phone blinking on the night stand and stood over it for a long moment before forcing myself to check the notification. It was a text message from Alex.

I totally understand if you don't want to ever talk again after last night but I wanted to apologize for taking advantage of you like that. It was wrong and Vic would kill me for touching his girl like that.

-A.

I felt conflicted as I read it once, twice, and then a third time. Did he really think he was taking advantage of me? Did he think Vic was going to crawl out from his grave and smite us down for what we did/were doing? I wanted to reply with something that would comfort him; that I wanted what happened between us to actually happen, whether I was drunk or sober. I couldn't make my fingers tap it out, though. I definitely wanted to talk to him again. I definitely wanted him to be close to me like last night. Traces of the tingles he gave me still remained even.

I brought my hand to my mouth and chewed on my thumb, debating on all my options. Was I really about to be a big whore and seek out comfort from my dead husband's best friend? This small town would lynch me by sundown. Vic wasn't even cold in the ground yet and I'd already let another man touch me so intimately. It had been so long since someone had touched me with a gentle hand, though. I was almost desperate to feel it again. A small flame quivered somewhere inside of me.

I quickly tapped back a reply and tossed my phone on the bed before I could second guess myself.

I don't want to stop.

-Elizabeth.

I tried to steady my frantic breathing as a panic attack came over me and I had to leave my phone and the room to get some water. I either just made the best or worst decision of my life and I wasn't sure which yet.

I shakily drank the water and sat down on an over-sized recliner in our living room. Not three feet away, on a sofa table, sat our wedding photo. I sat the glass down and stared at the photo for too long. It had the whole bridal party: my two bridesmaids, me, Vic, and his three groomsmen. My maid of honor was a childhood friend I'd lost contact with years ago after she herself got married and had kids. The other bridesmaid was Shana, because we were close back then. Vic was handsome as ever in his ivory tuxedo and black tie, dark eyes looking in to my ice blue ones. I could remember that moment still. His groomsmen were his two younger brothers and Alex. His brothers had flown all the way in from New Jersey for the wedding and I rarely seen them before or after the wedding. They weren't even at the funeral.

It was Alex's face that caught me by surprise, because I'd never noticed the side-eye he was giving the happy couple. He was smiling, yes, but it was hollow; fake. Maybe I was just know noticing because of everything that happened, but I was certain I hadn't noticed it before.

This revelation sent me back to the bedroom where my phone was blinking again. My heart was pounding in my chest as I picked it up. It felt like a brick in my hand, but somehow, I opened the message and braced myself.

I don't either

-A.

The air was sucked from the room, but I still found myself smiling.