Free Unfaithful by Devon Scott

this up.”
    Ryan nods slowly.
    “I can forgive many things, but ruining this,” she says, waving the plastic thing at him, “is not one of them.”
    Carly stands.
    She reaches for Ryan, grasps his shoulder. “I don’t know what is going on with you, but whatever it is, I hope to God it passes.” Their eyes lock. “Because if you break this,” she says, gesturing a second time with the plastic thing in her hand, “a lifetime will not be enough for my husband to be forgiven.”
    With that, Carly walks away, leaving Ryan there in the room alone.
    His mind is a rushing stream; it races along. Visions enter his mind at light speed—his home, his wife, his burgeoning family.
    All imagery coexisting in peaceful harmony.
    Nagging at the edge, however, is a subtle thought. One that tugs at his insides, a new consideration—Reese. Her scantily clad body in silhouette, staring him down from across the room, taunting him, drawing him inside her web like a spider, infusing herself into his being.
    A snowball rolling down a hill…
    Ryan thinks himself incapable of slowing it down…
    The thought both petrifies and ignites his soul.

Chapter 15
    She is in her cage, watching him.
    She arrived at 7:00 A . M . He arrived thirty minutes later, striding across the wide expanse of office space, meandering around cubes and conference tables with a purposeful step, briefcase in hand, a man on a mission. Didn’t offer up a glance her way. Not even for a second.
    She watched him climb the steps to his office, his cage diagonally situated from hers. Observed him drop his bag onto the low, leather sofa, the one she’s so fond of. Monitored him as he went to his desk, settling into the chair, firing up the laptop before the walls went opaque. She’d swear their eyes locked for a split second before he punched the button.
    Maybe. Maybe not.
    It is now close to nine. Ryan’s been behind closed doors since he arrived. She checked Outlook. Nothing on the shared calendar, but a few of his design engineers sauntered up the stairs close to an hour ago and have been sequestered in his cage ever since. She checks her cell phone. No text messages, no returned voice mails. Nothing.
    She’s called him—several times. The first was on Saturday morning after she’d hung up with Carly. Calling to see where he was. Wanting to know if everything was alright. Again, later in the day. Calls not returned.
    Strange. Not like him at all.
    She had spoken to Carly later on that afternoon, and learned her husband had indeed returned home that morning. Olivia had resisted the temptation to speak with him that very moment, the gnawing feeling regarding Friday and the conversation between Miles and he not sitting well in her midsection at all.
    On Sunday, she ventured another call that went straight to voice mail. She left a short message, hoping all with him was well, and asking that he call her, needing to discuss a business matter, something that would be on the agenda at Monday’s staff meeting.
    That call was left unreturned, as well.
    Finally, on Sunday night, beyond frustration, the knot in the pit of her stomach a constant dull pain, like a nagging headache that wouldn’t go away, she text messaged him. Short and to the point.
    R U OK???
    Nothing.
    Olivia checks her watch and sighs as she realizes it is time to get back to work. Forget Ryan, and whatever has crawled up his ass and made a home there. Too much to do. Work never stops; it doesn’t even slow down.
    Ryan will come around. He’ll emerge from his funk; all will be forgotten; life will pick up its pace and they’ll move on. He’s just being a man—a Gemini, a regular Jekyll and Hyde.
    Yeah, Ryan’ll come around.
    In time, all men do.
     
    The video con call with the Malaysian plant couldn’t wait. Problems with the line over the weekend dictated that Ryan handle the situation ASAP. So he got his team together and placed the call. No matter it was a 13-hour time difference. Business