Angry`

You seethe with anger as you make your way back to the conference. The image of your husband screwing Diane in your bed plays through your mind over and over, their sweaty bodies tangled up in your sheets as they tumble through every position you can possibly imagine, crying out in adulterous ecstasy again and again, each time louder and more passionate than the last.

How could they do this? How could they not tell me?

The same reason why you didn't tell them about Steve and why you're not going to tell Dave about Ryan, you say to yourself. What makes you any better than them?

Oh, shut up! You know what I'm going to do? I'm going to call Dave right now and...

And what? What are you going to tell him, that you know he's fucking Diane? So what? This morning in the shower you were thinking about encouraging him to do just that. Are you going to ask him who else he's fucked? Do you really want to know? Are you going to tell him about all the affairs you've had since you've been with him?

Well... no. I'm just... just so angry at him.

Do you still love him?

Yes.

Do you want a divorce?

No.

Then how do you want to handle this?

Hmmm, I don't know yet, but I'm going to start by fucking every last man at Ryan's bachelor party tonight, and I'm not going to feel the least bit guilty about it.

You continue this back-and-forth conversation in your head for the rest of the conference. By the end of it, you've managed to calm yourself down and focus on planning for tonight. Distracted by your thoughts, you barely notice when Greg comes by and gives you his customary greeting by squeezing your ass.

"Is everything alright, Suzy? You've been distracted all afternoon," he asks with concern in his voice.

"Oh, I'm sorry Greg. It's just... I've got something on my mind, that's all," you answer dismissively.

"I can see that," he chuckles. "Whatever's on your mind, it obviously isn't work. Is everything okay at home?"

"Hm? Yeah, everything's fine. I'm sure Dave is doing... just... fine," you manage to say without gritting your teeth.

"Ah, I see. Well, I'm certainly not one to pry, but if you feel like you need to talk, I'm available. Here, take this." He pulls a card out of his pocket and hands it to you. You take it and turn it around in your hands. It's a hotel room key, except the plastic is platinum colored instead of the standard gold color.

"That's my spare executive suite key. The elevator won't take you to the executive floor without one of those. Feel free to use it to access any of the exclusive amenities, or if you just want to come up and say hello," he explains with a wink.

"Wow, thank you," you say, not quite sure how to respond.

"You're quite welcome. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a dinner date. Have a wonderful evening, Suzy," he nods to you as he turns to walk away.

"Oh, don't worry, Greg, I will," you say with a smile.