Page 22 of Something Old

Tuomo walks into my office. He looks me up and down, frowning.

“Dude, what the hell is your problem? You look furious.”

“My wife.” I snap. “She won’t leave me alone.”

“What do you mean? Like she’s nagging at you all the time or something? Complaining about things?”

“No, she wants sex. She throws herself at me. She won’t stop.”

“You mean—you haven’t—” he looks shocked as he drags the other chair over to my desk and slumps down into it.

“Not a chance.”

“But she’s yourwife. I don’t get it. It’s default - isn’t it?”

“She’s not like anactualwife, man. We are supposed to just live together. Our lives aren’t intertwined or anything. It was forced on me. You know that.”

“Ok, but you can still fuck her?”

“It’s more trouble than it’s worth. I don’t want that from her.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t believe you for a second. She’s hot man.”

“Yeah, sure. She’s gorgeous. But if I give in once she’ll expect it all the time, plus other kinds of intimacy. And to make matters worse - she’s a fucking virgin.”

Tuomo sits dead straight in his chair.

“Your wife is avirgin, and she’s throwing herself at you and you keep turning her down?”

I nod.

“Fuck. What I would give to be you for one night.” He chuckles, looking down at his hands and then pressing his palm against his knuckles to click them.

I watch him, my thoughts bolting off in random directions.

Be me for one night.

He could. He could be me. He looks identical to me.

Maybe she’s just desperate to lose her virginity and then she’ll drop this whole fucking issue. Losing your virginity is kind of part of the whole marriage ceremony. It could be why she’s been acting the way she has.

Maybe she just needs to be fucked - and then she’ll get over it.

I clench and unclench my jaw, my brows knotting as I find myself lost in thought.

Tuomo is speaking to me - I wasn’t listening.

“Hey, asshole, I’m talking to you - did you finish up with the spreadsheet—”

“Why don’t you be me for one night?” I blurt out.

“Huh?” he looks blankly at me, as though I’m speaking a different language.

“Come over to my place, be me, give her what she wants, then leave.”

“Funny man. Good one.”

“I’m not joking.” I say.

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