THE AFFAIR by Dyanne Davis Page B

in.”
    For the rest of the day I moved through the rooms of my home cleaning and dusting, remembering my life with Larry, my children, my parents. I felt the way I had after having been given morphine for pain years before. Dizzy.
    I was not quite sure that I wasn’t in a dream. I concentrated harder, trying to stop the shadow that was now forming around my life. It felt as if I were living inside a board game. If I wanted, I believed I could pick up the pieces and move them about.
    Call Larry . The sound reverberated through my head not quite reaching my soul.
    I didn’t want an attack of conscience. I didn’t want to forgive Larry, to have him forgive me. I didn’t want to hear him ask me one more time if I’d gone to the doctor, implying that I was crazy. I wanted something that I knew would be bad for me, and I knew that it would cause me problems later.
    It was with that in mind that I pulled an invisible veil over my eyes to block out the pictures of my family, to block out my life. I was totally aware of what I was about to do. In that aspect, I have no defense.
    By six my entire body felt as if it were wired into a circuit board and someone was shooting little jolts of electricity around and through me.
    I walked into my bathroom, my hand automatically opening the drawer and pulling out a brand new toothbrush. This I stuck into my purse. A cold shiver ran through me and I thought of the saying that someone had walked over my grave. I now knew what that meant.
     

     
    A few minutes before seven, I sat in the driveway of Chance’s home waiting for something to happen to make me stop this incredible madness. Nothing happened. Not guilt, not a sense of loss, nothing. The door opened and Chance stood framed by the soft light from inside. Though he was smiling at me, my own uncertainty was evident in him.
    I sensed he wanted to come to the car, but was holding back, waiting for me to make my choice. It seemed strange that all it would take for me to change my life was the simple act of getting out of the car.
    My eyes fell on the door handle. I gazed at Chance then found myself walking toward him, not remembering actually opening the door.
    “Hi.”
    I stood about a foot from him, the shuddering from within now on the outside. I sank my teeth into the flesh of my lips. His arms reached out for me, enclosing me in a circle of warmth.
    “Welcome home.”
    I fell against his chest sobbing, knowing in some strange way I had indeed returned home, to this man.
    “Chance, we need to talk. I have to understand what you’re telling me. This all seems so romantic and so farfetched.” I closed my eyes allowing a loud sigh to escape.
    “How do I know I’m not just here with you now because I’m tired and want a change? How do you know I’m not angry at my husband right now and using you?”
    I stepped away from Chance. Finally, my husband’s face had managed to push its way into my brain, making me aware of exactly what I was doing by being here with this man. Even if I didn’t sleep with him again, I’d crossed the barrier of trust.
    Chance was caressing my face, the pads of his fingers warm and gentle.
    “I can tell you why you’re here if you really want to know.”
    “If I don’t know the reason, why would you?” I asked, amazed that he had the guts to voice his feelings without hesitation.
    “Because you’ve been searching for me, as I have for you,” Chance purred. “You’ve been calling to me and I heard.”
    I was frowning. I’d thought I was ready to hear what he had to say, but I wasn’t. “Chance, just for now, can we change the subject?”
    Chance smiled in my direction. “Tell me about your husband,” he said. “What does he do?”
    “He’s a lawyer.”
    “Do you love him?”
    “Yes,” I replied, noticing that Chance’s eyebrows shot up at my answer.
    “If that’s true, why are you here?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “Ahh, but you do. You’re a smart woman, Michelle. Why are you