Please, Just Wait Til Tuesday

Claire grabbed her bag and glanced at her watch. 12:10 p.m. Right on time. She told the receptionist she was heading out for lunch and would be back by 1:10.

As she stepped outside, she noticed a few of her male coworkers watching her. They always did. By now, she was used to it. They all knew she was married, but that never really stopped them from staring.

Her car was parked off to the side of the building. She checked her reflection in the mirror, touched up her makeup, and pulled out onto the road. She wasn't thinking about work. Or the way the guys gawked at her. Her mind was on David.

He'd been acting strange for a few weeks. Distant. Cold. And even though she kept trying to brush it off, the worry wouldn't go away. Something felt wrong. That heaviness in her chest had started to feel constant, and she wasn't sure how to deal with it.

Earlier that morning, just before she left for work, he told her he wouldn't be home until late. He said he was going to see his parents after work. He didn't ask if she wanted to come. He hadn't asked for weeks.

At 1:00 p.m., Claire left the apartment and headed back to work. She liked that the apartment was so close to the office. It made things easier. The drive back took about eight minutes. She'd timed everything carefully to make sure she'd get back by 1:10, just like she told the receptionist.

That evening, Claire sat alone in the living room. Her laptop was open, but she wasn't doing anything with it. She'd been staring at the same email for twenty minutes, totally zoned out.

She and David were both in their late twenties. He worked in IT. She was an auditor. They'd been married for three years.

Claire was under a lot of pressure at work. She was up for a promotion that could make her the youngest partner in the firm's history. She had to stay sharp every single day. There was no room to slip, no space for distraction. But David's behavior was starting to wear her down. The tension at home was creeping into everything.

He'd been coming home late almost every night, and he didn't even bother to call. When he was home, he barely said a word. It wasn't just that he seemed tired. It felt like he wasn't really there. The warmth in his eyes, his voice, even just being near him, it was gone. She felt like she'd already lost him and didn't understand why.

When she asked what was going on, he kept saying he'd explain soon. That he was dealing with something. That he just needed time. He promised he'd tell her everything by the following Tuesday, but never gave any details.

She tried to believe him. She wanted to. But something felt off. She had no solid reason to doubt him, but her gut said otherwise. Like maybe those trips to see his parents were just an easy excuse.

Eventually, she couldn't help herself. Claire picked up the phone and called his mom.

She and Margaret had always gotten along. Margaret was David's mother, but from the start she'd told Claire to just use her first name.

Claire had always felt at ease around her. Talking to Margaret felt more like catching up with a friend than talking to a mother-in-law. Lately, though, something in Margaret's voice had felt different. Claire couldn't say what exactly, but it made her wonder if it had anything to do with the way David had been acting. Margaret still sounded friendly, but Claire couldn't shake the feeling that it was a bit forced.

She'd always known David's dad hadn't exactly warmed up to her, but Margaret had never made her feel anything but welcome.

When Claire asked if David was still there, Margaret said he was out back, helping his father with the new annex.

Out by the side of the house, David was painting the trim while his dad worked nearby, securing a light fixture.

His father glanced over. "I told you from the beginning to give it some time," he said quietly. "I could see it wasn't going to end well."

David dipped the brush into the paint. "Yeah, well. I don't know how you knew, but you were right. I should've listened."

His father didn't answer right away. He adjusted the light fixture, checked the alignment. Then he said, "So when are you going to tell her?"

David kept his eyes on the trim. "Everything'll be settled by next Tuesday."

Back inside, Claire hesitated, then asked, "Have you noticed anything different about David lately? He's been really distant with me. I've asked him a few times what's going on, and he just says he's trying to figure something out. But he won't tell me what."

Margaret paused. "Well, he said he's dealing with something," she replied. "I'm sure he'll tell you soon."

Claire felt more confused than before. And a little angry. Why would David go to his mother about something important before telling her?

Margaret ended the call sooner than usual. She was polite, but it didn't feel like one of their normal chats.

Claire sat with the phone in her lap, trying to shake the feeling that something was off. But she couldn't.

The next day, at her office, Claire sat at her desk, staring out the window. She barely noticed the cars going by.

Ethan, one of the junior auditors who'd joined the company about six months ago, knocked on the door.

"Just a heads up, the Monday meeting's canceled," he said. Then he paused when he saw her face. "You okay?"

Claire had always felt like she could talk to Ethan. After a moment, she said quietly, "I think David's having an affair."

Ethan's eyes widened. "What makes you say that?"

"He's just been different the last few weeks. Ever since that weekend they sent us to the auditing workshop. He barely talks to me anymore, and when he does, it's like he's not really there. I think something happened while I was gone."

Ethan looked at her, curious. "The workshop? Do you think..."

Claire shook her head. "No, it's not that. I'm almost sure he's having an affair."

She glanced down at her coffee. "He won't touch me. Barely says anything. I don't even know if I should be telling you this, but we haven't had sex in weeks. And when I try, he just pulls away or makes some excuse."

Ethan nodded slowly. "That doesn't always mean he's cheating. He might be going through something. Honestly, David doesn't seem like the type. Especially not with a wife as attractive as you."

Claire gave a small, tired laugh. "That's part of what bothers me. He told his mom about whatever's going on, not me. I called her yesterday, just to talk, and she let it slip that he's dealing with something. Since when do I have to get in line to find out what's happening in my own marriage?"

"I'm sorry."

"She's always been good to me. I didn't think she'd keep things from me." Claire's voice broke a little. "Sorry. I didn't mean to dump all this on you. I just feel like I'm losing my mind."

"You're not," Ethan said gently.

"He's always on his phone. Always stepping outside to take calls. Three years married, and I feel like I don't even know him anymore."

"Have you tried talking to him?"

"I have," she said. "He just says he's tired. That he's dealing with stuff."

Ethan leaned in a bit. "Maybe try a different approach. Plan a date night or something simple. Sometimes couples just need a reset."

Claire's face softened. "You think that could work?"

"It's worth a shot. Communication's everything, right?"

Claire pulled out her phone and called David. Ethan watched as the hopeful look on her face slowly faded while she waited for him to pick up.

"Hey, it's me," she said when he finally answered. "I was thinking maybe we could go to dinner tonight? It's been a while since we've done anything together."

She listened for a moment. "Oh. Okay. Working late again. I get it."

There was a longer pause. "Maybe another time then."

She hung up and stared down at the phone in her hands.

Ethan gave her a sympathetic look. "Working late again?"

"Yeah. Working late. Again." Her voice was flat. "He didn't even sound sorry about it. See? He's not even interested in spending time with me."

"I'm sorry, Claire. At least you tried. I'm sure there's some kind of explanation."

Claire let out a bitter laugh. "This just confirms it, doesn't it? He's probably talking to her right now. Planning their evening while I sit at home like an idiot, waiting for him."

Ethan leaned forward. "Hey. Let me try to cheer you up a little. What do you say we grab a quick drink after work at Murphy's? You shouldn't have to go home to an empty house and drive yourself crazy thinking about all this."

Claire looked up at him, her expression softening. "That actually sounds really good. I could use someone to talk to. And definitely a few drinks."

Murphy's was dimly lit and nearly empty for a Monday evening. Claire and Ethan took their usual booth in the back.

Old man Murphy brought over their regular drinks without asking. A glass of wine for her, a beer for him. He set them down without a word, skipping his usual small talk.

Ethan glanced over at the bar. "Murphy's been pretty quiet lately, hasn't he? He used to chat a lot more."

Claire nodded. "Yeah. You're right. Feels like everyone's dealing with their own stuff lately."

After nearly an hour of venting and two glasses of wine, Claire felt drained. But not as heavy as before.

"Thanks for listening," she said. "I've been holding this in for so long. I was starting to think I was losing it. I wasn't even sure if I should say anything to you."

"Anytime," Ethan said, finishing his beer. He gave her a small smile. "You okay to drive?"

"I'm good. It was just wine. I'll take it slow."

They walked out to the parking lot. The cool night air helped clear her head a little.

"Thanks again," she said softly.

Ethan nodded. "Don't let this eat you up. Sometimes things change when you least expect it."

She watched him pull out of the lot, then sat for a few minutes before getting into her own car.

She didn't start the engine right away. She sat there a while, letting her thoughts settle before starting the engine..

Then she started the car.

She took the usual route. The long one that she preferred.

Cracking the window, she let the cool breeze brush her face as she drove.

Claire walked into the apartment and headed straight down the hall. The bedroom door was half open.

When she stepped inside, she was surprised to see him already in bed, propped against the headboard, scrolling through his phone.

"Hi," she said softly. "Looks like you've been home a while."

"I took the shortcut I keep telling you about," he said, setting the phone aside. "Come here."

She crossed the room, her steps slowing as she got closer. Her heart was pounding.

"I miss this," she whispered, climbing in beside him. His hands found her waist, pulling her against him. "I miss you."

It was a relief to have something that still felt familiar.

His mouth met hers. Slow at first. Then hungrier. She melted into it, arms wrapping around his neck, her body pressing tight against his.

She pulled back just a little, breath brushing his cheek. "I hate how little of this we get. I wish I could stay in bed with you all day."

He kissed her again, and she let everything else fall away. The way he touched her felt familiar, practiced. Her breath caught as he kissed down her chest, then lower.

She arched into him, body moving with his, a rhythm they already knew.

"I needed this," she breathed. "I needed you."

He looked up, hovering over her. "Tell me how you want it."

Her voice was thick, almost a growl. "Hard. Rough. Just how I like it. Don't be gentle. I've been aching for you."

His eyes darkened. He pushed her legs apart. When he slid inside, she gasped.

"God, I missed your cock," she whispered, nails dragging down his back as he started to move. "I think about it all the time. About this. About how you fuck me."

They didn't need words. They knew each other's signals--when to slow, when to push, when she was close. His hand wrapped lightly around her throat, and she let out a breathless sound.

"Yes," she gasped, eyes fluttering. "Just like that. Don't stop."

He didn't.

She came with a sharp bite to his shoulder, her whole body shaking. He followed right after, groaning as he collapsed beside her.

They lay tangled in the sheets, breath slowing. Her head rested on his chest, one leg over his.

"I needed that," she murmured.

"So did I," he said, fingers moving gently through her hair.

Later, Claire stood under the shower, letting the hot water run down her back. Her body still tingled with the afterglow, but her thoughts kept circling around David. What was on his mind now?

After dinner, she got ready for bed. She slipped into her silk nightgown and stepped into the hallway, expecting to find David winding down too.

"Hey," she said softly, walking toward him.

David barely looked at her. "Hey. Going to bed?"

"Yeah. Aren't you coming? I thought maybe we could..."

"Nah," he said, already brushing past her toward the bathroom. "I just need a shower and some sleep."

Claire stood in the hallway looking at him. Her fingers grazing the edge of her gown. The warmth from earlier was already starting to fade.

But something in his face had shifted. There was a little less weight in his eyes. And--was that a smile?

"What's that smile about?" she asked, trying to keep it light.

"Oh," he said, pausing. "I got some good news today."

She tilted her head. "Anything you can tell me? Is it about us?"

"Yeah, actually. It is. I'll tell you all about it next Tuesday."

Tuesday again.

"Well, let's celebrate then," she said, smiling. "I'll wait for the surprise."

David hesitated. "I'm not sure it's something to celebrate. We'll see."

He disappeared into the bathroom, and Claire was left standing there in the hallway again. A flicker of hope had sparked, but it already felt like it was fading.

The next day, Claire found Ethan in the break room.

"Hey, are things any better with David?" he asked.

"I don't know. I thought maybe he was softening last night," she said quietly.

"Yeah? That's good, right?" Ethan looked up from his coffee.

Claire sat down across from him, her shoulders heavy. "For a moment, it felt different. Like he was finally letting me back in. But then he just came to bed and turned away like usual. And this morning... it was like he'd gone cold again. In his own world."

Ethan frowned. "That's rough. I hope he figures it out soon. If not, I know plenty of guys around here who'd be happy if you were single." He gave a small laugh.

She forced a tired smile. "Yeah, don't I know it. Thanks for listening. And thanks again for the drinks and company yesterday. I really needed that."

"Anytime," Ethan said with a quiet laugh. "Maybe we can go for round two later?"

Claire shrugged. "It's a good distraction. But it never lasts. The moment I get home, reality just hits me again."

Her eyes dropped to her hand as she traced the edge of her wedding ring. "I don't know what's going on with David. It's like he's just passing time with me now. I can't shake the feeling there's someone else."

She let out a shaky breath. "I think it's time for the real talk. I can't keep doing this. I feel like a stranger in my own marriage."

Ethan nodded. "Yeah... seems like that time has come."

"I'll give it a few more days," she said. "Maybe he just needs space. I don't know. Last night felt like things might be changing for the better."

By Sunday evening, Claire couldn't wait anymore. She'd reached her breaking point.

David was in the kitchen, quietly making a sandwich. Claire's heart pounded as she stepped forward.

"David, we need to talk," she said, her voice steady.

"Sure, what is it?" he replied halfheartedly, not looking at her. That only made her angrier.

"I know what's going on."

David's eyes widened. "You do? Okay, then tell me. What's going on?"

"I know you're having an affair," she said, barely holding herself together.

David kept making his sandwich, still not looking up. "I'm not having an affair, Claire."

"Don't lie to me!" Her voice cracked. "You've been a completely different person lately. You won't touch me. You won't even look at me. You're always sneaking off with your phone. You think I don't notice? What's going on?"

His voice stayed calm. "I'm not lying."

"Then why?" she snapped. "Why do you treat me this way? Why do you act like I'm nothing?"

David sighed and shook his head. "Just wait until Tuesday."

"Tuesday?" Her voice rose. "I'm done waiting, David. I want the truth. Now."

"Claire, drop it. Now's not the time."

"No! I'm not dropping anything! Now is the time! Who is it? Your secretary? It's Cindy, isn't it? Just admit it and stop the games!"

David's face hardened. "I'm not sleeping with anyone."

"So why? Why do you treat me like this?"

He exhaled, turned away, and walked to the counter.

She followed him, frantic. "If you're not cheating, then what is this? Why are we even married?"

"Good question," he said flatly. "Just wait until Tuesday."

"No! No more bullshit! Are you fucking Cindy? Are you leaving me for her? I'm calling her right now!"

Then David snapped. He slammed his hand down on the counter so hard the dishes rattled. Claire froze. She'd never seen that look in his eyes.

After a long pause, he finally spoke. His voice was calm.

"You know exactly what's going on, Claire. You've known for a while."

"You were kind of right about an affair. But you already know that, don't you?"

She stared at him. "I FUCKING KNEW it! What do you mean 'kind of right'? You're either having an affair or you're not! Who is it?"

He frowned and shook his head slowly. "Unfortunately, as you well know, the person having the affair isn't me."

Her voice got louder, but she started to tremble. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I haven't touched you," he said firmly, "because I'm not interested in another man's leftovers."

Claire blinked fast, feeling the space closing in around her. "What the hell does that mean?"

"Ask Ethan Parker. He knows exactly what I mean."

At the mention of Ethan's name, a flicker of panic crossed her face. She swallowed hard. "What are you even talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. But since you want to play this game, let me be clear. Ethan Parker. Your work buddy. Your fuck buddy. The one you've been fucking for weeks."

Claire screamed, "Stop it! You're making things up!"

David kept going. "It started at the auditing workshop. That's when you first became his slut, isn't it?"

Claire's eyes went wide. "Now you're just trying to cover your own ass!" she screamed, her voice cracking. "And don't talk to me like that. Ethan has nothing to do with this. He's practically a boy. This is all you."

"Yes. Your boy toy. Did you really think I wouldn't find out? That I wouldn't notice or figure it out? The drinks at Murphy's. The lunch-hour fuck sessions at his apartment?"

Claire took a step back. Her breathing got fast and uneven. "You don't know what you're saying," she tried to yell. "You're being insane..."

"What did you think would happen, Claire?" David's voice dripped with disgust. "That I wouldn't pick up on it? After all these years? I know every look on your face. Every change in your tone. Every time you'd come home acting extra sweet, with that faraway look, pretending everything was fine."

She shook her head wildly, lips trembling. "Please... No... David..."

"I stopped touching you because you're not worth touching. You're poison. Diseased."

Claire gasped and dropped to the floor.

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

He knew. He knew everything, even about the workshop. But how? They'd been so careful.

"David, please..." she choked out. "It wasn't like that. I didn't plan it. He... he got me drunk. I didn't know what I was doing."