My Wife Is Missing(14)
“He wants to know why our P&L is all screwed up,” Tina said. “Should I mention to him that he was the one who suggested we eat the Q2 revenue on the Broadcom deal?”
“Maybe not your strongest play,” said Natalie, finally finding something to brighten her mood.
“Forget about Steven. Let’s talk about you. What’s going on?”
“I’m just not sleeping.”
“You know they have pills for that, don’t you?”
“Yeah, and they make me so drowsy during the day I can’t function.”
“Forgive me for stating the obvious, but I wouldn’t say that meeting was a high-functioning moment for you.”
“Very funny,” Natalie said with a slight frown. “But I have to take the pills in the middle of the night because they’ve lost their effectiveness. That’s why I get daytime drowsiness. My shrink is kind of at a loss, he’s shooting in the dark with his damn prescription pad. We’re trying everything, but I’m just not sleeping.”
“Well, no shit. Look at your eyes. Careful a raccoon doesn’t try to follow you home. What were you dreaming about, anyway? I know you said it was a nightmare, but were there any good parts? Anything sexy?”
Tina’s aspect brightened ever so briefly. She liked talking about sex, especially because she complained about getting so little of it at home. She called Viagra a girl’s other best friend. Despite the dwindling spark of her marriage, Tina loved her husband, Theo. She kept a framed picture of him—bald, with a round, ruddy face—and their two children (one in junior high, the other entering high school) on her desk in a glittery silver frame.
“Sexy? God, no,” Natalie said. “It was a falling dream. It was awful.” She recounted what she remembered.
“I think falling dreams and dreams where you can’t scream are an indication of insecurity. Any chance you’re feeling overwhelmed? Out of control? Maybe a sense of failure regarding some circumstance … eh?”
Natalie returned a come-off-it look.
“You know damn well what it’s about.”
“Have you tried confronting him? Tried being direct?”
“Yeah, point-blank.”
“And?”
“And he said if I was sleeping better, I wouldn’t be having those paranoid thoughts about him. He said I’m the only woman for him.”
“And do you believe that?”
“I don’t know what to believe anymore. Honestly, you’re the one who got me thinking.”
“Me?”
“Yeah, remember? I think we were on margarita number two and I confessed that Michael and I weren’t having sex anymore and you said—”
“That it’s a sign,” Tina answered glumly. “Different with my marriage.” Tina used her finger as a puppet to demonstrate a flaccid phallus. “Pills work, but it kinda kills the mood.”
“No issues in that department for Michael. But he’s more interested it seems in his phone than me, and he only recently became passionate about the gym and his appearance. You said it was like he was following the cheater’s playbook. And remember the note?”
Natalie never saw who came into her cubicle, opened the drawer where she kept her purse, and slipped that note inside. It wasn’t until she got home and went to put her car keys back in her purse that she saw the flash of white. She removed the paper, unfolded it, smoothed out the creases, and read the typewritten words. A pit opened in her stomach.
We work together. I see your husband at the gym … it’s not my business, but he’s quite flirtatious with the women. One woman in particular. They seem close. I felt compelled to tell you. I’m sorry.
Well before the arrival of the note, Natalie and Michael’s relationship had cooled, and unsurprisingly sex was at the center of the trouble. The kids were hardly an aphrodisiac, one of life’s great ironies Michael would sometimes joke, but he and Natalie still managed to carve out time once a week, or so, for a bout in the bedroom. Then one week became two, then became three, until sometimes a month would go by without intimacy of any kind. Add to that Addie’s asthma inexplicably worsened, badly enough to land her in the hospital overnight, and Bryce was having some behavior difficulties at school.
Natalie was all set to make a grand return to the bedroom, recommit to their sex life, when a big project at Dynamic Media layered on the work and with it the stress. As those work pressures mounted, Natalie’s libido downshifted even more until it stalled like a seized motor. She chalked it up to an extended dry spell, but her prolonged disinterest in sex stirred feelings of frustration and doubt in Michael as the weeks became months.
Around that time, Michael got really into the gym and his phone. All of which fueled Natalie’s suspicions of infidelity that coincided with the start of her sleep difficulties. She found a direct correlation between her escalating sleep issues and her increasing questioning of Michael’s fidelity. More often, she struggled to fall asleep only to wake up an hour later and be wide-awake staring at the ceiling in the wee hours of the night, her mind spinning theories about Michael’s extracurricular activities.
It was an unbreakable circle: he’d make a move in the bedroom, she’d think of him as tainted and pull away, which made Michael more embittered. Marriage counseling wasn’t helping. How many times could she listen to her husband’s denials?