A Fragile Wife(5)

By: Cynthia Dane

Lana was alone. Her husband was in his office, finishing up preparations for the next day’s early morning meeting. Lana finished off her nightcap and then berated herself for drinking so much that day.

Eventually, she got up and went down the hall.

Ken was at his desk, back toward the office door. Lana quietly latched it behind her. Her husband only kept a meager fire beneath the stone mantle and the soft glow of his desk lamp. Glasses graced his head – Lana could see the black frames behind his ears all the way from where she stood.

She said nothing as she approached her hardworking husband. Lana let her hands announce her arrival, wrapping over both of his shoulders and giving a light massage.

“You need to come to bed if you’re getting up so early,” she said into the top of his head. From that angle, she could see the specks of steel gray emerging after working so hard for so many years. Ken was only nearing forty, but most of the men in his family grayed earlier than this. Lana looked forward to it – a little. There was something about a man with steel-gray hair making love to her with raw, experienced passion that turned her on. At least something is turning me on right now. She blamed hormones. It was better than facing the truth – that perhaps Ken wasn’t enough anymore.

Lana sighed as she rubbed her husband’s shoulders.

“I’ll be there soon. I need to finish this up and then unwind.”

“By the time you’re done unwinding, it’ll be midnight and you won’t get enough sleep.”

“Oh well.”

Lana pressed her thumbs into his shoulder blades. “Hurry up, then.”

“Keep touching me like that and I may be able to kill two birds with one stone.”

As he pulled folders toward him, perusing images of properties they were buying and selling, Lana continued to massage his shoulders and upper back. In any normal marriage this would be nothing more than a moment of one spouse taking care of the other. Except they weren’t normal. They weren’t vanilla. Everything they did in their intimate moments was laced in kink.

Lana could easily slip into dominant or submissive, demanding or serving at a moment’s whim. In public, she preferred the more domineering persona, including with her husband, but in private, she had no issues giving a well-deserving husband everything he needed to feel better after a long day at work.

It also helped that the longer she touched him, the more Lana awakened to her dormant sexual desires. We haven’t had sex in days. While not unusual sometimes, it did disconcert her after a while. In the early days of their relationship, they had sex every single day. Sometimes more than once. And “early days” meant as late as two and a half years. Unsurprisingly, it was marriage that eventually slowed them down. Marriage and going into business together. Suddenly they were in their thirties and more tired.

Lana still thought they had a healthy, voracious sex life. She craved his touch and he yearned for her. Other people came and went, but they were each other’s constant. Not just business partner, but life partner.

Or so she told herself for years. As of late, as many calls to her cousin and lawyer could attest, she second-guessed everything about her marriage. There was going through the motions, and then there was trying to improve things. She didn’t have the energy for either at the moment.

When Ken flipped the folders shut, she let out a sigh of relief. When he pulled a key from his pocket and opened the top drawer to deposit it for safe and confidential keeping, Lana ran her fingers through his thick head of hair and asked him why he didn’t put the folders in the second drawer, since this one looked stuffed full of business crap.

“I’ve got other things for safekeeping in there.”

“Oh? What?”

Ken slammed the drawer shut and locked it. “Nothing that would interest you.”


Her husband leaned back in his chair, pulling his electronic cigarette from his front pocket. Lana moved away before she inhaled whatever scent he puffed on tonight. I suppose it’s better than cigars. Maybe that’s what he kept hidden in the second drawer. That’s going to drive me crazy now. She and Ken did not keep secrets. When people asked them how their relationship remained so seemingly strong, that was her answer. “No secrets. We tell each other everything. I know where all of his things are, and he knows mine.” Apparently it was bullshit.

Knowing there might be something between them made Lana do certain things. Like try to futilely get into her husband’s good graces, even if she was already in them. The mind didn’t always know that.

“My husband is so weary.” She leaned against his desk, loosening the sash of her robe and opening it enough to show him how naked she was beneath. “He should lie back in his chair to enjoy his cigarette.”