Lovemaking in their bed ended by mutual abdication months ago but they lay on their sides, sheet pulled over lithe, bare midsections, his arms enveloping her in nude spooning, his lips close to Annelle's ear in the hi-rise condo’s master suite with hanging silence awaiting puncture.
She heard him sigh and inhale, as if ready to speak.
“Don’t,” she whispered, “I know…about the two of you…know everything,” and an awkward arm reached backward for the nightstand's lamp.
As careful as his timing and excuses and showers and visits to the Penthouse had been, Annelle had that clairvoyance a woman gets when her spouse has been unfaithful, but, how could she have…
“The very first time Tanya invited me up for coffee, she seduced me...got crazy wild and we’ve been lovers ever since, even laughing in bed at the videotapes I shot of you two from the closet when you thought you were oh-so-sly,” and her gutteral laugh surfaced.
Kyle unwrapped from his clinch, rolled away stunned as Annelle rolled over propping an elbow on his pillow to go eye to eye, wearing a wry smile as she delivered the quietus: “Tanya sold the Penthouse and we leave Tuesday for her new job in L.A.--Nite-nite,” and a lamp tumbled loudly onto the floor.
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