Reluctant Cuckold Read Free Page B

Ashley? Do people believe it?”
     
    “Yeah, it seems that way.”
     
    “A lot of people were talking about it?”
     
    “It wasn’t like there was a crowd at the water cooler chatting about it. But sure, it definitely got around.”
     
    “But did they think maybe Jim concocted it? Or Tamara?”
     
    Craig looked at me oddly, like that was a reach.
     
    “Why not?” I asked.
     
    “I don’t know. Why would they?”
     
    “So you believe it?”
     
    Craig looked away and said, “I don’t know.”
     
    “But people believe it’s true, that’s what you’re saying, right?”
     
    “Dave, I don’t know. It seemed that way to me, but who am I to know for sure.”
     
    I began zoning out until Craig gave me a nudge to get my attention.
     
    “Oh, sorry, can I get you another?” I asked.
     
    “No thanks, I need to get going. I’m meeting my girl for dinner.”
     
    “Sure, I understand,” I said. “Well, thanks a lot for coming out and telling me this. I mean it. I really appreciate it.”
     
    “I’m really sorry,” he said. “You’re not going to tell Ashley I told you this, right?”
     
    “No.”
     
    “I work with her, so it wouldn’t be cool, you understand?”
     
    “Of course.”
     
    We shook hands, and he patted my back as we said goodbye.
     
    I swiveled back, but as I began zoning out, Craig tapped me on the shoulder. “You going to be OK, Dave?”
     
    “Yeah,” I said, trying to brave-face it.
     
    “You sure?” he said with an expression of pity, like he clearly believed the story to be true.
     
    “Yeah, I’m fine, really, I’m good,” I said, attempting a smile.
     
    “OK,” he said, patting me again. “Let’s grab a beer soon.”
     
****
     
    I couldn’t believe what I’d heard. It would be one thing if Ashley had just drunkenly kissed the guy. But I could never have imagined a rumor like this—that Jim Murta had fucked my wife in a bathroom, at a party where I was on the terrace outside.
     
    It seemed so ludicrous and utterly implausible. Ashley wasn’t like that. It would be insanely out of character. We’d been together for over five years, been married over eighteen months. She wasn’t going to fuck her co-worker just because her friend gave him a choice.
     
    The rumor should have been laughable. How could it have gained traction? No one should have believed it, not even for a minute.
     
    And yet, according to Craig, people did believe it. His reluctance to tell me, and the way he said goodbye, suggested he believed it, too.
     
    I walked out into the crowded, rush hour streets, heading home. I was having a mental back and forth. For a while, the “no possible way in hell” side won out. Then I started thinking about that night at the party, and had creeping recollections of what seemed like nothing at the time. I started thinking about going inside to piss. I could hear Tamara’s voice saying “Dave, there’s another bathroom upstairs. Use that one.”
     
    I hadn’t seen Ashley for a while before that. Come to think of it, I hadn’t seen her for perhaps an hour. My heart started racing and my pace quickened. The story Craig had told me seemed so outlandish and freakish, yet strangely peculiar—peculiarly detailed . It wasn’t the run-of-the-mill office story—in fact, the contrary.
     
    “Which one of us do you want to fuck?”
     
    Jesus Christ. That sounded exactly like something Tamara might say.
     
    Suddenly, it seemed potentially possible that Ashley, Tamara and Jim had all been in that bathroom when I had knocked.
     
    Part of me wanted to rationalize it. Perhaps they were in the bathroom smoking a joint. But if so, why wouldn’t Ashley simply tell me that, or at least try and account for the rumor? And how would a story like that come out of nowhere? Why was Craig so reluctant to tell me? Why had he seemed to believe it? Was there even more to the story?
     
    I started thinking how Ashley never actually denied it. She referred to