Missing Like You

NINETEEN

SCOTT DONOVAN
FEBRUARY 2021

I got home later that night, probably close to midnight. Isabelle was in the kitchen getting a glass of water. I walked in and could feel the guilt emanating from my pores, seeping immorality and lies. She turned and smiled at me. "How was your night?" she asked.
I came up behind her and put my hands on her waist, across her stomach. "Good," I said, then kissed the side of her neck. "How was yours?"
She spun around so that she was against me, her face looking up at me from just below my chin. "Good," she said. Then she kissed me. I think she was drunk.

As we had sex, the image of Lexie was stuck in my mind. I pictured her long hair and her bright eyes. I pictured her lips, the way they articulated words. I pictured what her lips would feel like on mine, though I already knew.

I couldn't stop thinking about her after that. Each and every day felt like a sin, even though I had done nothing wrong. She was like a disease of the mind, and I was plagued.

I had never had sex with anyone else before. Isabelle was my first and my only. At this, I felt somewhat abashed. My friends had a notorious lineup of people they'd slept with, from girlfriends, to one-night stands, to solemn regrets. I felt as though I were inexperienced in some way since I had only been with one person. It was stupid to think that way because it didn't matter. Isabelle and I had each other. Yet still, that was how I thought.

I wondered what it would be like to have sex with Lexie. To put my mouth on hers, to undress her slowly, slipping one strap down her shoulder. To kiss every inch of her body and be deep inside of her. Would it compare to Isabelle? Would I feel differently? I wanted to know.

That was how we ended up in the hotel room a week later. I logged back into my LV account, noticed I had quite a few new matches and messages waiting for me which I promptly deleted, then I found Lexie's profile. It said she hadn't been active in a week. The cursor hovered over her name, debating whether to do it or not. I clicked and began typing a new message. She responded a few hours later and we made the reservation for that Thursday night.

We were both aware of the fact that spending the night was not an option. That was the only downside of meeting through a website that promotes extramarital affairs. You have your spouse at home to consider.

I told Isabelle I was going to Jake's for the evening. She said she was going to go to the movies with Maya and Kate. Thankfully she left before I did. This gave me the time I needed to pace the house and mentally prepare.

I arrived at the hotel around eight o'clock. We agreed not to meet in the lobby and instead, whoever arrived first would go to the room and wait for the other. Upon arrival, I went to the desk, got my key card from the receptionist, then headed up the elevator and into the room.

She was already in there waiting for me when I opened the door. She sat at the edge of the bed wearing a black dress that stuck tight to her body. I hated comparing her to Isabelle but it was all I could do. Isabelle didn't have curves like that. Isabelle didn't have a dangerous look in her eyes like that.

"Hi," she said to me, crossing one leg over the other. She didn't even say it seductively, just quite mundane, as though we were two old friends catching up for coffee.
"Hi," I said back, and stood there staring at her. I didn't know what to do. I suddenly forgot how to use my legs.
"Come sit," she patted the bed. I took in a breath and walked over, sitting beside her.
"Have you ever done this before?" I asked her. I could smell her perfume. It was strong, almost intoxicating. Her eyes looked even bluer with her dark eyeliner, and her expression was unreadable. In that moment, I realized I was officially terrified of Lexie.
"No, I haven't," she said. "Have you?"
"No."
It was quiet for a moment.
"How was your day?" she asked, and at this, I seemingly relaxed.
"My day was good. Kind of exhausting. But at least tomorrow is Friday. And then it's the weekend."
"Yay!" She said, and moved her body in a little dance.
"How was your day?"
"My day was good. I had sushi for lunch."
"I love sushi."
"So do I."
"We should go sometime," I said.
"We should."
"What do you do for work?" I asked, realizing we never went over this last time.
She hesitated. "I'm in sales. It's pretty boring really. What about you?"
"I do computer programming and security."
"That sounds interesting. You must be very smart."
I laughed slightly. "I'm alright."
She looked at me so intently then. I tried to look away and break eye contact, but it was as though she had cast a spell on me. I turned my head and met her gaze. We must have stayed like that for a while, simply staring at each other. Any outsider would think we were bizarre. Two people staring at each other, not moving, not talking.
Finally, she broke the silence. "Scott."
"Lexie."
"Kiss me."

I stared at her another moment, savouring each second that her eyes were on mine. I lifted my hand, gripped the bottom of her chin ever so gently, then I brought my mouth to hers.

Being with Lexie definitely wasn't comparable to being with Isabelle. They were both completely different experiences, good in their own individualistic ways. Where Isabelle was tentative and gentle, Lexie was fierce and aggressive. Where Isabelle was loving and passionate, Lexie was calculated and efficient. With Isabelle, we made love. With Lexie, we fucked. Plain and simple. No comparison.

Afterwards, we lay next to each other trying to catch our breaths. I was still in shock from the whole thing and didn't quite know how to form my next words. I had officially cheated on my wife. I had officially had sex with another person other than Isabelle.

"You good?" she turned on her side and looked at me.
I didn't meet her gaze at first, just continued staring at the ceiling. Then I turned and looked at her. She looked so calm and unbothered by the whole thing that it made me feel stupid for having emotions.
"I'm fine," I said to her. "You?"
"I'm great."
It was quiet again. Then I asked her, "How many people have you slept with?"
"In my life?"
"Yeah."
She was quiet and I didn't know whether she was debating telling me or if she was counting.
"How many do you think?" she asked me.
I took in a breath as I thought. "I don't know. Honestly. What is normal for a girl your age? You're twenty-four, right?"
"Turning twenty-five this August." It was February.
"So how many is normal for a twenty-four year old married woman?"
"I don't know."
"What is average for your friends?"
"I don't really have friends."
I gave her a look. "Three? Ten? Sixteen? Give me something to go off of here."
She laughed at me. "You're twenty-six. How many people have you been with?"
"Don't spin this on me. I asked you first."
"Can I guess?"
"No."
"Fourteen," she guessed.
"I'm not going to respond until you tell me."
She laughed again. "Fine! Fine fine fine," she stared at me, unwavering. "Twelve."
For some reason, I felt no reaction to this. Perhaps this was due to the fact that I didn't have a specific number in mind. Was twelve high, or low? I didn't know.
"Your turn," she said.
I sighed. "Really?"
"Really. And I think that's fair, given the fact that we've just slept together. I need to know what I'm dealing with here."
"Trust me," I said. "I have nothing on you."
She stared at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. I just meant," I paused. "One, okay? One person. Well, now two. You."
Her eyes widened. "You're lying."
"I'm not lying."
"How!?"
"How what?"
"How have you only slept with one person in your entire life?"
"Easy. I met the love of my life at sixteen and have been with her ever since."
She stared at me. "Isabelle."
I nodded.
"Is she beautiful?"
"She is."
"Is she worth it?"
"I'm not going to talk about her when I'm with you."
"Why?"
"Because that's weird."
"No it's not. I'll talk about my husband if you want."
"I don't want," I said. "I thought we agreed, we leave our spouses and our marriages at home, out of this room."
"Fine," she sighed and rolled onto her back. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Sure."
"I've only ever had one boyfriend."
"You're lying."
She shook her head. "Nope. And now he's my husband. Never dated anyone before him. I mean, I'd been with guys, just never ones who were into relationships. Stupid, I know. I guess they just liked using me."
"I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize. I don't lose any sleep over it. It's just funny," she said. "You may have only slept with one person, but I have only dated one. And now here we are."
"Here we are."