Missing Like You

TWENTY-ONE

SCOTT DONOVAN
MARCH 2021

Before I knew it, any and all thoughts I had were about Lexie. She was slowly consuming my mind, taking up permeant residence there. Whatever empty space I had in there was now solely occupied by her. But I didn't seem to mind. It was intoxicating.

It felt wrong, lying and sneaking around behind Isabelle's back. Isabelle had never done anything bad to me, not one single thing. And there I was, doing the worst thing you can do to your spouse, committing despicable acts of adultery.

I often wondered what Lexie told her husband when she was with me. I wondered if she spent all her waking hours thinking about me as much as I thought about her.

Perhaps it was just me. She had been with multiple other men in her life. Maybe she was used to this kind of lifestyle. But I wasn't. This was like a whole new world to me, and I was addicted to the all-encompassing allure. It was becoming dangerous.

Lexie was like a drug to me. I knew it was wrong and I knew I should stay away. But no matter how badly I tried, I couldn't. We'd see each other two to three times a week if we were lucky. Other times, if we were both busy and had things going on, it would be once a week. On the days I spent away from her, all I did was envision myself with her, her eyes on mine, my fingers on her skin. I craved her touch more than anything else and it physically pained me when I couldn't get it. I was an addict. I needed rehab.

The second that we were united again, we were joined immediately, skin to skin, mouth to mouth. I'd tug off her shirt and she couldn't get to my zipper fast enough. But the thing was, it wasn't just about sex with Lexie, although that was what the majority of our time together comprised of. For me, it was about connection. I had found another person with whom I connected with on another level. Yes, I had Isabelle. We had an obvious connection as well as that familiarity from being with each other since we were teenagers. But I had a different kind of connection with Lexie that I couldn't describe. It was cosmic, almost, as dumb as that sounds.

I felt as though I was living dual lives. I had my married life with Isabelle: husband and wife sitting at the dinner table, sipping wine, going to bed early. Then there was Lexie: a life of secrecy and allure, a life of temptation and sin. At this point, I considered myself a master of compartmentalization. I don't think there would be any way a sane person could get through it other than compartmentalization. If I let the two lives merge together in any way, I'd be doomed. Not even a little bit. Not even tiny bits of it seeping through the cracks. It would drive me mad. I had to keep them separate. And so, Lexie and I had rules. 1. No talk of marriage or spouses. 2. Whatever happens in the bedroom, stays in the bedroom. 3. When we left that room, no outside contact unless it was to plan our next meeting. We eventually both got second phones so that nothing could be found on our main ones. I knew Isabelle trusted me and would never go through my phone, but we did it to be safe. Also, it was a part of the compartmentalization. This kept things pretty simple and straight-forward. Sometimes I think it made Lexie feel used and discarded. I got the feeling early on that she was developing stronger feelings for me than I was for her. She wanted to be with me all of the time. She wanted to talk to me, even when we weren't supposed to. She'd call me sometimes and I'd get mad, slightly scolding her for breaking one of the rules we specifically set. The worst thing that could happen was Lexie calling when I was with Isabelle. I couldn't risk it. It would ruin everything. And so I stressed the importance of compartmentalization to Lexie and hoped that she would get on board and understand.

In all honesty, I should have cut all contact with Lexie after that first night we had together in the hotel room. I loved Isabelle and wanted to be with her. There was no part of me that stopped loving my wife and my desire for her did not lessen in any way. The thought never even crossed my mind whether I would leave Iz or not. I figured we'd stay married, and I could just have Lexie on the side. Selfish me. Stupid me. Self-indulgent me. I guess you could say I wanted to have my cake and eat it too. But I should have known that never works. I should have known I couldn't have the best of both worlds. No one gets away with it forever. And soon enough, the truth is bound to come out.

It was supposed to be a one-time thing, an experiment of sorts to see what it would be like. All I wanted to do was have sex with someone who wasn't Isabelle and that was it. Task complete.

If only it were that simple.

The months progressed and Lexie grew on me like a tumor. Instead of shrinking, she only metastasized. It got so bad that I eventually reached the point of no return. It was then that I knew for certain that I was doomed. I knew that there was no way to go back or ever recover from something of that magnitude. I feared the worst was happening: I was falling in love with Lexie.