Summary: Lauren has been avoiding thoughts of an intimate encounter with Brandon, her husband Chris’s boss, that occurred in the shower weeks earlier. While preparing for a flight home to Atlanta, the memory surfaces and leads her to seek physical relief in the shower. Later, after meeting with her ex-husband David to discuss the incident and her recurring pattern of infidelity, she returns to Washington, D.C., only to learn that Chris has gone missing in a conflict zone. As reporters swarm her, Brandon arrives to escort her to an urgent briefing, leaving Lauren to confront her guilt and uncertainty about her husband’s fate. Lauren didn’t think about that moment for a whole month. She also didn’t speak to Brandon, who was avoiding her and the family. She figured it was for now. She didn’t mention it to Chris or anyone else. It hung in her memory, a flash that lit up her mind too much. She avoided thinking about it, and Brandon, and even Chris to some extent, because the guilt grew too heavy to carry. When she next thought about the shower incident, it happened over coffee on the morning of a flight back to the Atlanta suburbs. The kids were already at Mrs. Thompson’s. Chris had checked in with an email explaining they were being evacuated again. Lauren had switched herself off for a bit when it came to the cravings. Every time she felt too hot or desire started building, she went for a run or pulled out a flight manual. Anything to give herself a chance not to consider the possibilities around her. Steam and Memory This morning, though, she took her usual shower after coffee and the dam broke. She replayed the moment she turned around, his wet towel at her feet, and looked at him, both of them soaked, her breasts heaving from shutting the water off. The moment he took off her dirty shirt. The moment she pushed her buttocks against his towel. The moment he reached out to drop her wet green lingerie. Her nipples tightened at the memory, aching against the cool air before the hot spray hit them. She could still feel the slick slide of his skin on hers, the way his cock had pressed firm and heavy through that towel. She had to do something about this. It burned. She needed relief. Lauren set her coffee down and ran, stripping on the way, to the shower. She turned it on full force and threw herself in, touching and remembering as much as she could. In the steam she re-enacted rubbing against Brandon against the glass partition. Her fingers found her soaked pussy right away, sliding through the wetness that had nothing to do with the shower. She played out in her head what would have come next, where he took her hard in the bathroom. She gasped with every movement of her fingers pressed inside her, gripping her left breast and caressing herself as if he held her close. She imagined him inside her, thrusting and filling her, and moaned loud and uncontrollably. Her fingers worked fast, pumping in and out with slick sounds that echoed off the tiles. She brought herself to the edge, gasping for air in the steamy shower, sinking down to the tiles on the floor. She imagined him standing over her, then moving forward, pressing her onto the floor, spreading her legs wide, grasping her breasts, pushing his stocky body onto her and into her, grunting and whispering. Then she saw it clearly: his dick spreading her folds, the head sinking inside and squeezing her, and she could almost feel his guttural grunt and the warmth of him. Her cunt clenched around her fingers, dripping down her thighs as she thrust harder, chasing the heat. “Oh…” Lauren gasped, leaning back against the glass, spreading her legs, her arms flopping to her sides. The shower kept spraying her. Dazed and satisfied, she sat there a moment longer while the enormity of the moment played in her head over and over. Brandon fucking her. Brandon coming inside her. Brandon filling her up in the steam of the shower and letting loose all of that cum inside her. She lusted for him. She wanted him. Then Chris came to mind and she blushed hard, stood up, and watched her lust and satisfaction give way to heavy guilt. Her legs shook as she rinsed the evidence away, but the throb between them refused to fade. The rest of the day passed in a haze. Airport security, preflight checks, the flight itself, touchdown, and the taxi ride back to the house in the mountains outside Atlanta all blurred together. All Lauren could see in her mind was the man who was not her husband and his naked body standing in the steam of her marital bathroom. Her body ached for the missed chance. Yet she knew this was wrong. What she had done violated her trust with Chris. She hadn’t told him. How could she? Guilt, desire, and loneliness swirled around her. Ex-Husband’s Counsel Lying back on her bed with the soft sheets and rain tapping gently against the window, Lauren felt some calm return. Atlanta always did this. It grounded her in the woods, the mountains, and the warm feeling of her childhood home, now fully hers after her mother moved out with her boyfriend to a flat near downtown. The guilt tingled a little as she looked at a photo of her family, Chris and the kids. She needed help. David sat in the kitchen with her, calm and steady. “So, to be clear, you saw everything?” “Yeah.” “Everything?” “My God, David!” “So, everything.” He sat back and paused. “I mean, that’s hot.” Lauren laughed. “David! You’re supposed to be telling me off.” Her ex-husband shook his head. “No, honey Lauren. Is it any different from when I was cheating on you with Tyler?” “I mean, it was different,” Lauren said, uncertain. “We weren’t in love.” “And you’re in love with Chris?” he asked. “Yeah! Of course I am.” “So realistically, you could call this an unfortunate happenstance and never do it again. Do you tell him?” “I think it would kill him. And devastate the kids.” They sat in silence. Lauren looked at the floor, ashamed. “You’ve always had this in you, you know,” David said thoughtfully. “You cheated on me with Chris. When you weren’t with Chris, and after Emily was born, there was the man in the flat opposite mine.” “How do you know about that?” Lauren said, astonished. “I never told you that!” “It might have been his wife telling me that did it,” David said, nodding. Lauren sighed. “So what you’re saying is this is a pattern. I’m a serial cheat.” “No. But you are, and always have been, with someone else other than the person you’re with.” “Yeah?” David held his hands out as if drawing a graph. “Here’s Lauren’s current partner. And here’s the one she could have. She’s more attracted in the moment to the one she could have or be taken by.” He looked at her. “I mean, be honest. When you were with me, you were thinking of Chris.” Lauren nodded. “Yeah. Sorry.” “It’s fine. I was thinking of Tyler too.” They sat in silence again. “That whole arranged marriage with our fathers really fucked us up, yeah,” Lauren began. David finished for her. “Fucked us up, yeah.” “So you see the pattern of where it started for you, and now you see how it continues even when you’re with the man you love.” “It can’t happen again,” Lauren said. “I didn’t hear ‘won’t happen again,’ though,” David said. “It can’t happen again,” Lauren repeated. David shook his head. “I didn’t think he was particularly good looking at the wedding.” He was there, Lauren realized, talking to Chris about the deployment. “You don’t think he set Chris up to go abroad so he could…?” David looked at her carefully. “To get you specifically? No, I don’t think so.” He shrugged. “Maybe. Seems very planned. Your story about trying to fix the car and the shower seemed genuine and accidental.” “So why did I rub myself against him?” Lauren asked, desperate. “Because Chris has been gone for six months and you’re horny. It’s as simple as that. You found an opportunity, Chris wasn’t there, Brandon was, and he was as attracted to you as you were to him. Wasn’t he?” Lauren looked at David deadpan. “He was.” “And you know this because…” David leaned in. “Details, Lauren! I need details. Tyler is on the oil rig for another week and I need to live vicariously through you!” “David! This is serious!” Lauren said. Then she added, “He was well endowed.” “Better than Chris?” “David! Different.” “Describe it.” “I’m not getting you aroused through descriptions of my member of congress’s member.” “Shame,” David sighed. “I could do with new material.” “I mean, he was quite long when flaccid. Then he got a bit longer,” Lauren giggled. David rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t tell me much!” “I mean,” Lauren went red, “he felt quite good on my panties.” “Oh, you rubbed him hard,” David laughed. “I did. He pulled my shirt off. Then he went to pull my lingerie down and I stopped it, but he was close to me. Very close to me. I wanted him to go further. I thought about it. It was a second’s delay before I stopped it. But in that moment,” Lauren broke a little, “I just wanted him to put it inside me and make me feel something, anything.” She blushed hard. They stopped, awkward. “This is highly disrespectful to Chris,” Lauren said, frowning, guilt building fast. “Well, let me change the topic then.” David looked at her with a smile. “We have signed the papers.” Lauren squealed. “Really?!” “A little boy. He’s beautiful. He needs a family. I want him to be our family.” “Oh David, I am so happy for you both!” She hugged him. David beamed. “A little brother for Emily and Jake.” “We have a crazy setup,” Lauren admitted. “This still works right? You don’t feel we need to be more separate?” “That’s up to you and Chris and the kids,” David said. “I will always think of Emily as my daughter, and Jake is a delight to be around.” “So that’s decided then.” Lauren looked to David, searching for reassurance. “Look Lauren, you are not a bad person. But you have bad habits for someone who wants to lead a life as a wife to a husband and two children,” David said. “At least in your current framework. Maybe that’s something you speak to Chris about when he gets home.” “If he ever gets home,” Lauren said, tears welling up. “I hear from him so little. He doesn’t seem to have the energy to write, to think, to desire me.” “He’s in a war zone!” David said, exasperated. “All his energy is in surviving, honey Lauren. All of it.” The guilt deepened. “So I’m just a horrible cheat?” “Yeah,” David said solemnly, looking directly into her eyes the way he used to do that made her laugh. “A dirty, dirty cheat. But you did not fuck him. Or kiss him. You did way more than you should ever do, mind, but,” he opened his arms wide, “you’re only human, Lauren. Be kind to yourself. You slipped up. Just don’t slip again. Or at least have permission from Chris first.” “Would he ever…?” Lauren pondered. “Would you give him permission?” “No!” “There’s your answer then.” Lauren clicked her tongue, annoyed with herself for falling into the obvious trap. “You did that on purpose!” “Consistency, Lauren. This is your husband we’re talking about. And I admire him. All of that effort, all of that time, all of those almost moments and false starts, and he finally bagged you. Bravo, I say to him.” “And then he left me to go help people in a war zone for six months.” “What a bastard. Helping people. I bet he probably feeds children and gives them water too? Horrendous human being.” Lauren looked guiltily at David. “Do I tell him?” “I think you chalk this one up to experience and never tell anyone. Bear in mind, it’s the member of congress he works for, in a way. Could be really bad for all of you. Particularly if it gets out.” “Oh my God,” Lauren said, throwing herself into her arms and laying on the counter, despairing. “I had not thought about it.” “No, you were thinking of getting a nice, juicy dick inside you,” David mused, “which I hope is waiting for me at home next week, and I am totally not becoming very fat with all the cake I am eating, yeah.” He deliberately put a high note on the “yeah” and Lauren laughed. “You are, as always, right,” Lauren mused. “Okay, I will not say anything.” “For now at least. Just give yourself some time,” David advised. “You will feel differently when Chris is back. Be honest with yourself and him. And it is difficult being the single parent in a different country.” Lauren looked to him. “Do you think moving to DC, all of the flying, am I making it difficult for myself to be centered?” “Yeah, but you manage it so well on the surface,” David said. “You need to find ways of satisfying your urges. Like I do with cake.” He mimed eating a big cake. Lauren laughed. “You are terrible.” “Yeah, but I enjoy my cake very much.” Shutting the door of the DC flat, Lauren felt a little energized. Atlanta always seemed to bring her back to center. The flight back had been mostly without incident, though she had noted a load of routes were on hold for airlines. Mostly Tel Aviv and Riyadh, it seemed. Normally she would have put the news on, but today she was determined to focus on getting the house ready for the kids, who would be returning from Mrs. Thompson’s in the evening. Her phone buzzed in her bag. Loads of notifications, based on the vibrations. The landline rang. Lauren shook her head and dropped her flight bag. She didn’t know why Chris insisted on keeping the ancient-looking landline with its ridiculous circular dial and overly large receiver when they all had mobiles. She picked up the dark brown receiver. “Hello?” “Lauren Fernsands?” “Yeah? Who is this?” “Michael Reynolds from the Washington Post. How are you holding up?” “I’m sorry, who are you?” “I’m a reporter. I’m asking how you’re doing after the news from earlier today.” “What news?” There was silence. “You haven’t seen the news?” Lauren stood there and it hit her like a lightning bolt. Flights delayed, cancelled, Middle East. She lifted her phone and looked at the notifications. Michael was talking into the receiver, but she heard none of it. The first line of notifications on her phone read: Lauren, ring me. Urgent. It was from Brandon’s assistant, Samuel. “I have to go.” She put the receiver down and rang Samuel from her mobile. It rang three times. “Lauren?” “Yeah.” “We need you to come to DC, urgently. I am sending a car and will come to greet you outside your flat.” “What is happening?” There was silence. “Lauren, we’ve lost contact with Chris. It doesn’t look good.” “What’s happened?” “It’s best that we brief you at the office.” Lauren closed the phone and ran to the bedroom, frantically looking for appropriate clothes. Her blue jeans, a white shirt, the Ralph Lauren blazer Chris had bought her, brown Chelsea boots. Finally she grabbed her clutch purse and ran to the door, fumbling with the keys, shaking. Please be okay, please be okay, she prayed. The guilt rose up in her like an oil well as she ran down the corridor, turned down the stairs, and hurried to the road outside the flat. She opened the glass door and was blinded by flashes of light. “Lauren Fernsands!” “Have you heard from your husband?” “Do you condemn…” “What do you say to the president who says aid should be conditional on support for the state…” “Do you think your husband is alive?” That last question pierced the air and most photographers stopped and turned, shocked. Lauren just stared into the crowd. “Who said that?” Nobody spoke. “Who said that!” she shrieked and stepped forward, defiant. “Come and say that to me directly.” Nobody moved. “Cowards,” she snapped. “Shit! I know nothing. I have only just come home from my job. I am a pilot. I have two children. My husband is helping people. And you stand there knowing that I likely know nothing yet, and you scream and you holler and you throw questions at me like I am nothing?” The photographers started to back away. A green saloon, a Jaguar, pulled into view and a driver got out to open the rear door. “Well, I see I won’t need to brief you on speaking to the press,” Brandon mused as he stepped out of the car. “It’s okay, Lauren. Jump in.” Lauren jumped in, grateful and instantly ashamed all at the same time. Brandon spoke to the crowd for a few moments longer, then jumped in next to her. “They are jackals, the press. They’ll string that out for a fair few articles, I dare say,” Brandon said, looking out the window as the car lurched forward quickly. He looked to her. “Firstly, I owe you an apology for avoiding you, and there’s a few things we need to discuss at a later date. But the long and the short of it is that we lost contact with Chris’s compound in the south of the strip a few hours ago. We are trying to coordinate with the defense force and the other NGOs to work out what has happened.” “Brandon, Chris…” “It’s okay, we will find him,” Brandon said more gently. “We will get briefed when we get to the office. We should be able to assess this better when we get there.” Lauren pursed her lips. “I am sorry, Brandon. I…” “I’m also sorry, but,” he whispered, looking back to her with a knowing look, “this is the time to be strong for your children, for Chris, and yourself. This will be the most difficult thing you will ever experience if the worst has indeed happened.” Lauren nodded and looked out the window. The red brick buildings of DC fell away for the sight of the Washington Monument and the Capitol. “Chris,” she whispered, sadly. Lauren gripped the car door handle until her knuckles whitened, forcing her mind to the kids’ faces and the steady rhythm of Chris’s last email. She would hold it together until the briefing, then decide what came next. The guilt sat heavy, but the need to know if he was alive pushed everything else aside for now.