This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Steve and Tom are twin brothers. Steve and Grace, Tom's wife, don't get along well at all. In fact, they can't stand one another. Steve can't understand what would bring Grace to his bachelor pad alone. He's about to find out and none of their lives will be the same.
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Author's note: This is a short story of only one chapter. I wondered to myself, as an author, if I could write a story that made the title "Honorable Infidelity" work. I also wanted to see if I could write a sex scene between two people that don't like one another. This is that story.
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The doorbell chimed cheerily. I frowned at the front door. It was after 10 PM - a bit late for company.
I clicked off the TV and dropped the remote onto the couch. When I took peek through the peep-hole I cursed under my breath. Standing in the hall outside my apartment was my sister-in-law, Grace. What the hell did she want? The two of us could barely tolerate one another
with
my twin brother, Tom, playing referee. I couldn't imagine why she'd think I'd want to see her.
She knocked on the door insistently. "I can see you, Steve. Don't try and pretend you're not home. This is important. Open up."
I sighed and unlocked the door. Without a "by your leave" she breezed in like she owned the place.
"Come on in," I said to her back as she marched into the living room. "Make yourself at home, why don't you?"
She proceeded to do just that, sitting down on the love seat and crossing her legs. Her eyes shot a disapproving look at me that I shrugged off.
I smiled wryly at my own wit and sat back down on the couch. I could see what attracted Tom's interest in her. She was a beautiful woman. What I couldn't fathom was why he actually loved this shrew. Not that it mattered. After all, you can't choose your in-laws. And the law frowns if you kill them.
Grace saw my smile, closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head. She opened them and stared at me. "Look," she started. "You don't like me. That's fine. I don't like you, either. But for once in your tedious life I need you to try to be serious, if you can," she said. "If I'd had
any
other options I would
never
have come here to talk with you."
I had no idea what she was talking about, but her words stung. "You without a plan of action?" I was able to keep the sarcasm out of my voice, but it was only a near miss. "I find
that
hard to believe. You
always
know what to do when it comes to looking out for yourself." From experience, I knew that anger and sarcasm didn't faze Grace a whit. Being calm and sounding objective was the quickest way to cut her.
"This is about Tom," she said, ignoring my jab.
Grace never let me have the uncontested last word, and my snippy comment should have made her go off like a rocket. That she ignored it sobered me a little. That she was bothered about something concerning Tom flat out scared me. I loved my brother and, as much as I detested his wife, I knew she loved him without reservation.
"What about Tom?" I asked warily.
"I'm worried about him," she admitted her tone almost daring me to deny her words. "Something happened, and I'm willing to bet money he hasn't told you about it." There was a definite challenge in her voice. This was one of the things I hated most about Grace.
Every
interaction with her was a contest to prove who was superior.
I couldn't really condemn her for it, since I went out of my way to push her right back. Tom said the problem was that we were too much alike. He wouldn't take it back even after I tossed his ass into the pool behind his house.
I thought about the last few times I'd spoken to him. He hadn't mentioned anything earthshaking. He certainly hadn't mentioned anything serious enough to cause Grace to come here
without
him. Unwillingly, I nodded. "He hasn't mentioned any bad news, unless you count your wedding anniversary next month. He thinks we should celebrate. Whoop-ti-do." I swirled my finger in the air.
She rolled her eyes. "Jesus! What's with you? Grow up, for Christ's sake. No, it's not our anniversary. He's depressed over something serious."
Now that she mentioned it, he had sounded down the last time I'd talked with him. I concentrated and tried to recall the phone call without much luck. It had been a couple of weeks since I'd seen him in person. That wasn't normal, either.
"Okay," I said. "For Tom I'll call a truce. Tell me."
What she did next stunned me and ratcheted my anxiety to new heights. Grace opened her purse and pulled out a tissue to wipe her suddenly watering eyes. Her crying in front of me was inconceivable. She'd never done that in the five years that I'd known her. Some women used tears as a weapon, but I was convinced Grace thought they made her look weak.
With any other woman I would have tried to comfort her. However, while Grace might stop crying if I touched her, it wouldn't help her. Well, maybe it would, after she slapped the shit out of me - that might cheer her right up.
Her self-control was too good to let more than a few tears through at a time. She held the tissue in her lap and her expression defied me to make something of them. Wisely, I thought, I chose to decline the offer.
Then she collapsed back into her chair. "I'm afraid. I'm afraid he's thinking about suicide," she almost whispered.