Page 37 of Power Games

The band started their next song; a classical waltz this time. Charles continued dancing. She didn't protest.

"That's one of my favorite songs," she told him unexpectedly.

"Really? I find it rather gloomy."

"Well, it’s supposed to be. It's called ‘Valse Triste,’—sad waltz. I used to play it on my headphones when I couldn't sleep. I think it was mistitled. It should have been the 'calm waltz.’ Everything that bothers me disappears when I listen to it, and I pass out halfway through."

"Try not to pass out now. You look pretty heavy."

She glared.

"All right, all right. I take it back. Feel free to pass out. You're, what, a ton or two? Easy."

"You're an asshole. I'm definitely not going to vote for you now."

"Because you were going to?"

She shrugged. "I was considering it."

A few seconds passed.

"I'll be announcing that I'm running in six months."

"Loads to do, I'm sure."

"Plenty." He hesitated. "I need to thank you for everything you've done for me, Vanessa. I wouldn't have had the guts to put my name forward without you helping me. Believing in me."

"But you're saying goodbye."

He dropped his eyes to hers again. She was too smart. One of the many reasons why he'd grown to love her, despite his best intentions.

"I don't want to use you more than I already have."

He didn't elaborate. She didn't say a word. No, instead, she did something infinitely worse. Her head rested on his chest for one moment. Was she listening to his heart, hearing how fast it was beating right then? Then the music ended, and she stepped out of his embrace.

He turned on his heel and returned to his table, forcing himself to not look back at her.

15

Promises

They got home in silence. Charles knew Izzy would explode eventually, but instead, the moment he closed the door behind him, she jumped into his arms and peeled his clothes off his limbs.

Charles let her. He didn't feel like he had a choice in the matter, knowing that if he pushed her away now, they'd take a hundred steps back. All the effort they'd both made to become better people, a better couple, would disappear because she'd know. She'dknow.

Sex with Izzy was passionless on his end, desperate on hers. Finally, she came. He didn't.

Charles got up and went to take a shower. Scrub himself clean. He would have loved to go to sleep right after that.

His wife had other ideas.

She stormed out of the bed the moment he got in and started shouting.

"I don't get it! I don't get you! How can you practically fuck that woman on the dance floor like that? And you can barely bear to touch me!"

He was somewhat stunned at first. He had expected the yelling and the accusation, but she’d chosen sex, so he’d assumed they were good. Apparently not.

She seemed quite content to scream without his input, so he left her to it for a time. After ten minutes, Charles was starting to develop a headache.

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