Free Conflagration by Matthew Lee

when she asked me a question.
    “You said Chris and I make a striking couple? Do you mean if people saw us out in public together they'd think I was hot enough to be with a guy like him?”
    Behind her I rolled my eyes.
    “Are you serious?”
    “Yes, of course, David.”
    My mind reeled. “How can you be one of the sexiest most beautiful woman in the world and not know it?”
    “I'm not. You say that because you love me.”
    The depths of her insecurities boggled my brain. Despite constant evidence to the contrary, Tiffany doubted her own attractiveness. I was about to berate her for being so mousy when a little alarm bell sounded in my head. Her lack of confidence was real and probably terribly unpleasant for her. I'm sure she would gladly be rid of it. Me harassing her about a fault is no way to help her get over it. I totally changed gears.
    “I've heard many men say it, Baby. Lots of men. They say it for the same reason I do; it's true. You hear our compliments and enjoy them but I also see how quickly that pleasure fades for you. You battle yourself. Trust me, Tiffany, you are something extraordinary and special. Your face is prettier than most models and your body beats theirs by miles and miles.”
    I felt her toes curl at the end of the bed.
    “You're a sweet man.”
    “That is also true.”
    We spent the next few moments in silence again until she asked me a question.
    “Would it bother you if I met Chris socially once or twice? Like for coffee? Without you?”
    How good-looking was this fucker? My wife wanted to be seen in public with him? I calmed myself. She was an adult and trustworthy.
    “Okay, Baby. I'd want frequent updates though. A call before and after and texts during. Blame it on your paranoid Los Angeles husband. I'd want to know where you were and what you did too.”
    “Deal. This should be fun.”
    It took us awhile but eventually we fell asleep.
    I was at work the next day when my cell phone buzzed with a text message from Tiff. She met Chris for lunch. That was fast. I heard nothing for an hour and then she sent me a text she was back at work and everything had gone fine. I lit her phone up; did anything happen? Where did you go? What did he look like? What were you wearing? What did you talk about? I fired question after question at her. She answered as fast as she could until finally calling a time-out and letting me know she'd tell me everything when we got home. I was a coiled spring the rest of my working day.
    At home that night I talked her ears off. Only after two hours of intense grilling was I satisfied that nothing had happened, they met for lunch and enjoyed light conversation, and I was okay with her doing it again. She'd told him she was in town for two weeks this time.
    She saw him every day. Sometimes they met for lunch, sometimes after work. They ate dinner, saw a movie, went to a concert, and even visited a hot new Vegas nightclub courtesy of Chris and his social elite connections. Tiffany said whenever there were hot girls around he ignored them for her and she loved it. She described him as an addicting ego-boost.
    My discomfort was obvious so she went out of her way to let me know nothing physical ever happened other than kissing cheeks and an occasional light hug. She said he was a perfect gentleman. She sent me texts often and kept me posted on what was said and where they were. She told me she couldn't believe she had hooked a guy like him and kept dating because she was sure the bubble would burst. She wanted it to happen sooner than later. When she was back with me she was fully present so no harm in allowing her this indulgence. Besides, it sure turned her into a tigress in bed. I didn't care that her excitement was fueled by another man. I felt odd that watching her have sex was easier on me than allowing her to date, but there it was.
    As the two weeks drew to a close she asked me if my offer still stood. I knew which offer she meant. I admit I hesitated before