Free Nocturnal by Nathan Field

be forced to live with their father. Lucy described all four children as spoiled, ungrateful brats who hurled abused at her whenever Sterling’s back was turned. With so many eyes upon her, it was difficult for Lucy to leave the house without good reason.
    I sympathized with her predicament, but after a while, the limits on Lucy’s time began to bother me. Every spare moment was spent fucking. And while the sex was reason enough to get up in the morning, I became frustrated that our relationship wasn’t progressing beyond the physical. The only time we talked was in the car, driving to and from cheap motels on the outskirts of Sacramento. Even when we talked, Lucy would only discuss things she’d seen on TV or read in the newspaper. Whenever I asked her a personal question or tried to express my feelings, she’d quickly shut me down, claiming she didn’t want to make the situation any more complicated than it already was.
    I heeded her wishes, but secretly I craved a deeper connection. I would’ve happily traded in one of our steamy motel romps for a lunch date, or a walk in the park, or an hour just spooning her and talking. Alone at night, I would lie awake for hours on end, devising ways to convince Lucy to leave her husband. I knew she didn’t love Sterling, of that I was certain, but I wasn’t kidding myself that she’d give up her cushy lifestyle to shack up with a lowly reporter. I could barely support myself let alone a woman who’d grown accustomed to the finer things in life. And there was no mistaking that Lucy expected to be looked after. From the very start she’d made it clear that modeling was the only job she could imagine doing, and having just turned thirty-four, those days were now behind her.
    There was no clear road forward. I was never going to lure Lucy away from Sterling with my measly $35k a year – she needed wealth , not rent money. On the other hand, it was madness for us to be living apart, snatching a few hours a week to satisfy our physical desires. I needed more from the relationship, and despite Lucy’s claims that she wanted to keep things simple, I sensed she did, too.
    None of these thoughts I shared with her. I knew the rules, and they didn’t allow for declarations of undying love only six weeks into an affair. But I prepared my speech anyway, waiting for a sliver of an opening to make my feelings known.
    The opportunity to raise the subject came sooner than I expected. I was picking Lucy up from our regular spot – a shopping mall parking lot where she would ditch her Range Rover in favor of my anonymous white Corolla – but I knew something was wrong from the moment she slid into the passenger seat. She was wearing a white cashmere sweater and a modest ankle-length skirt – both tasteful and designer-made, but not exactly Lucy . She also failed to lean over and greet me with a welcoming kiss before she fastened her seatbelt. Instead, she stared down at her lap, smoothing the folds in her skirt.
    I asked her if she was okay.
    “Yes, I’m fine.”
    “You don’t seem fine.”
    “Well, I’m telling you that I am.”
    I continued to study her. She seemed nervous and distracted, like she’d rather be somewhere else.
    She cracked under my scrutiny, turning her eyes on me. “ Christ . What?”
    “Tell me what’s wrong.”
    “Are you deaf? Or just plain stupid.”
    “Damn it, Lucy. What’s got into you?”
    “For the last time, nothing !” she snapped. “If you’re going to make a fuss, maybe I should just leave.”
    Lucy was daring me to bite, giving her an easy out, but I wasn’t about to play into her hands.
    “No, I’m sorry,” I said, turning the ignition and starting down the exit ramp. “If you say you’re fine then I believe you. Now, which of Sacramento’s finest budget motels do you feel like visiting today?”
    She rolled her eyes. “I’m sick of those dumps.”
    “Okay, fair enough. Where do you want to go?”
    “The Park Royal.”
    I