I shouldn’t have been surprised. My penchant for fucking things up and making small matters huge was on full display that morning.

There was no ill will or any intention of starting an argument before she left. We hadn’t had much time to talk lately, and I wanted to see her off to work since I didn’t have any morning appointments.

My first instinct was to feel bad for upsetting her. I thought about sending her a text message since I was sure I wouldn’t be able to get her if I called her. I even picked my phone up and entered my passcode to unlock it before becoming disgusted with myself and putting it back down on my desk.

I was tired of always being the one who had to apologize. I was sick and tired of everything being my fault. It wasn’t like anything that was coming out of my mouth was a lie. She didn’t do her hair for me anymore. She didn’t put on makeup for me like she used to. She didn’t do anything anymore.

What was worse is that I wasn’t supposed to ever bring it up. Anytime I even hinted at the subject; she would change the topic to something completely different. She tried to be subtle about it, but I knew exactly what she was doing.

I listened for her to start her car and leave before I left the house. I didn’t have it in me to fight anymore right then. I had a few afternoon appointments and wanted to go ahead and get into the office so I could try to clear my head. I sure as hell wasn’t going to be able to do that at home.

I had three patients that afternoon, and I treated them professionally as always, but my mind was definitely on my wife and the argument at home. The more I thought about it, the more I began to wonder if I hadn’t been wrong all along.

Maybe I really was an asshole. She’d been staying at home for our entire marriage, cooking and cleaning an almost constantly empty house. I thought women loved a hard worker, but I also understood the concept of being lonely. Maybe getting out of the house and working would be good for her. It would give her some human interaction and allow her to talk to people instead of sitting alone all day.

* * *

It was bizarre walking into a dark, empty house. Usually, Kayla would have her music playing, and the aroma of whatever she was cooking would hit my nose before I even made it through the door that connected the house to the garage.

The feeling was almost surreal as I placed my keys in the small glass bowl that we kept on a tiny table next to the door and they clinked off the bowl instead of falling on top of hers. The sound echoed throughout the house.

I hadn’t eaten since early that morning, and I was starving. I was debating between pizza and Chinese when I opened the door to grab a beer and saw a large dish inside with a note on top of it. I grabbed the piece of paper and opened it up.

I pulled back the foil and saw that she’d made lasagna, my favorite dish. If I wasn’t already feeling like a schmuck before, I sure as shit was after reading that. I never denied the fact that Kayla was an amazing woman. On her first day of work, she got up early, prepped and cooked an entire lasagna just so I’d have dinner when I came home.

Sighing, I grabbed a beer, turned the oven on and sat down on the couch. I really was a lucky man. Sure, she and I hadn’t been on the same page for quite a while, but we still loved each other. At least I thought we did. I know that I loved her, but was she still feeling the same about me, especially after the fight that morning? The note said love always, but I couldn’t really remember the last time she told me she loved me without me saying it first.

I had another beer once I popped the lasagna into the oven and grabbed one to have with dinner once it was done. Kayla hated it when I drank beer with dinner. I could almost hear her telling me how unsophisticated it was as she grabbed a bottle of wine like she had done during countless dinners over the years.

What the hell, I thought to myself before walking over to the wine rack and grabbed a bottle of Rioja Crianza, a wine that my wife would describe as a medium-bodied red wine, whatever that means. I popped the cork, poured a glass and sat down to have my dinner.

It only took one bite for me to realize what a jackass I’d been that afternoon. Here I was giving her shit over something as petty as her hair and makeup after she’d taken the time to make a lasagna for me for dinner. I made a mental note to apologize for the fight and thank her for dinner. It tasted much better than whatever take out I would have been eating otherwise.

As I ate, I started to wonder about how Kayla’s first day of work was going. I hoped that she had been able to put our fight out of her mind and at least try to have a good day. It would suck if her first day ended up being shitty because of my stupid insecurities.

When I finished eating, I put the leftover lasagna back in the fridge so Kayla could have some when she got home, rinsed my plate and stuck it in the dishwasher, and downed the rest of my wine before putting the wine glass in with the plate.

Not knowing what else to do, I grabbed the remote and sat down on the couch to see if there was a game on. Before I could even turn on the television, my mind went straight to Kayla. More specifically, I started thinking about the fact that she had got a job at a factory where most of the other employees were men. Men who I’m sure would have no problem flirting with a cute girl like my wife.

I knew for a fact that my wife would never cheat on me, but that didn’t stop the jealous feelings from developing deep within my gut. I closed my eyes and could just imagine all the men introducing themselves to her. Maybe they shook her hand, or maybe they greeted her with a touch on the shoulder or arm, a touch so insignificant but carrying so much meaning. I could guarantee that they were checking out her ass as she walked away. That is one of her best features after all.

Rubbing my eyes and shaking my head, I tried to get the images out of my mind. The last thing I needed was to let these feelings fester in my head and lead me to overreact to something that wasn’t even there. Sitting on the couch wasn’t going to help me do that.

I looked down at my watch and saw that it was only 8:00 pm. The shift she’d been hired for was from 11:00 in the morning to 11:00 at night, so it was still going to be quite a while before she got home.

Lately, I’ve retired to our office after dinner to jump on the computer. I’ve always told Kayla that I have patient files to catch up on, but it isn’t true. Since our sex life has been on life support, I’ve gone up to the office to relieve myself. Even though she has a desk and computer in the office as well, she always reads after dinner, so I never had to worry about being caught.

I started to walk towards the stairs that lead down to our finished basement, which is where our office is located, but I realized I didn’t have to do that tonight. Instead, I grabbed my laptop and made my way to our bedroom. If the house was empty, I was going to take advantage of it.

I made myself comfortable on the bed, opened my laptop and logged into my favorite porn website. It’s not your typical site, though. It caters to a very specific fetish. A fetish that I’ve kept to myself for the years since I’ve discovered it. A fetish that I wouldn’t dare tell anyone I was into.

I surfed through the videos for about 15 minutes until I found one I liked. It’s not bad enough that I’m into a very specific fetish, but I also need the woman in the video to look a very specific way or else I can’t get into it.

Once I found what I was looking for, I slid out of my pants and pulled my cock out of my boxer briefs. Watching videos like the one on my screen made me so hard. I paced myself to match the 20-minute video, only climaxing when the man pounding the woman did.

There was something extra relaxing about being able to relieve myself in bed instead of down in my office. I put my laptop on the floor and turned on the television so I could find something to watch until Kayla got home.