"You didn't come," I whispered, guilt layering over guilt.
She smiled and kissed my mouth. "I love having you inside me, feeling you so close to me."
"But I always make you come."
Her eyes shifted, and I blinked. "Rose?"
"Yes, you do," she said, but I knew she was lying.
I kissed her. I'd make it up to her; I promised myself, as soon as I wasn't so tired. I'd make her come again and again like I used to.
"So, your wife didn't orgasm, and you felt guilty," Dr. Ogle deduced.
I licked my lips. "And I realized the way she said it that it wasn't the first time I hadn't taken care of her. I felt like an ass."
"Did you talk to her about it?"
I laughed in self-deprecation. "Come on, Doc, I'm a Southern man, we don't talk about shit like the female orgasm."
He nodded gravely.
"I didn't talk to her about it," I said somberly. "I felt like she'd just told me I was a shitty lover, and so…I started sleeping in the guestroom."
He frowned. "Did sheactuallysay that?"
"No," I cried out. "No. Rose is…fucking sweet. This was all on me. I felt guilty, and I knew if I got into bed with her, I'd fuck her. I can't resist her. You know, my friends complain about how their wives don't turn them on, and they want some stranger on the side. I don't get them at all. I look at Rose, and I'm hard."
Dr. Ogle leaned back as if waiting for me to say more and there unfortunately wasmore. Fucked up shit that I brought upon myself.
"I suspected she wasn't happy, and maybe that's why she didn't come. I could feel it, sense the distance growing between us. Sleeping apart seemed easier than facingthat.”
"Where have you been sleeping since Rose left?"
I felt tears prick my eyes. "On her side of the bed."
“Why?” Dr. Ogle prompted, his tone sympathetic yet probing.
"Because I can smell her there, and I feel less lonely and more safe."
I had told the housekeeper not to change the sheets. I wanted to hold on to my Rose for as long as I could.
"Gray, it's obvious you love your wife."
"Very much," I said hoarsely. "So, fucking much."
"Why do you think you've been treating her in a way that everyone around you thinks was designed to drive her away?"
I’d been thinking about this a lot for the past weeks, my wife gone.
At first, I decided she was being dramatic. Then I convinced myself that she was going to come back, any day now. But, finally, I was honest with myself about who I had been as a husband and a man.
"I was afraid when we got married that she was thewrongwife. I hoped she'd miscarry, and I'd divorce her." Remembering this always made me hate myself. "I didn't want to divorce her, Doc. I loved her, even then. But…."
"But?"
I sighed. "But, Rose is from the wrong side of the tracks, and I'm a fuckin' Rutherford."
He nodded but didn't say anything, and knew I had a lot more to get out of my system.