Back To The Now

“Care to explain this?” I asked, sounding more like a school teacher who has just found some sweets in a student's pocket than a wife that has just received pictures of her husband swallowing another man’s cum.

Marcus looked sheepish, “It was just one night when I was in the City last month.” He puts down the tablet and looks at me again.

“We talked about this,” I begin, my voice softening as I see the panic starting to creep over him. He never was very good at hiding his emotions. I sigh and lean back in my chair, realising that I am once again going to have to be the strong one.

“They want me to meet them tomorrow,” I say, giving up on pointing fingers. The cock is out of the bag and now we have to deal with the mess.

“You can’t!” Marcus exclaims, his eyes wide.

“I don’t have much choice,” I say wearily, already playing out how this will go in my mind's eye. I wonder how much money they are going to demand. “If I don’t show up then these photos will be splattered across every fucking news site around and you can kiss your campaign goodbye.”

“Fuck it!” He replies, “It’s more stress than it is worth, I would rather lose it than pay some fucking blackmailing shit heel!”

“And your father?” I ask. “Life will be kind of hard for us if he kicks you out of the company and cuts you from his will.” Which is exactly what the homophobic old cunt would do. I add to myself.

Defeated Marcus puts his head in his hands. I feel pity for him and walk around to his side, rubbing his shoulder.

“I’ll go and collect the demands tomorrow and then we will pay them and they will go away for awhile.” I don’t try to pretend that paying the money will be the end of it. I’m not a fucking idiot.

“Once your father is dead none of this will matter,” I say, thinking about how thin and frail the old shit had looked the last time I had seen him.

“Ok,” I hear Marcus say through his hands, his voice tight with emotion.

He sounds how I feel.