Charles Dubow - Indiscretion

Her face rises to his, her lips on his, her tongue in his mouth. “Make love to me,” she pleads, placing his hand on her breast. Immediately she can feel him hardening. “I love you. I need you. Now. Here.”

But he does not. “I can’t,” he says. “I’m married. I love my wife. Don’t do this.”

“But what about me?” she asks. “Do you love me?”

“You’re a beautiful girl,” he says. “You shouldn’t be doing this. I’m married.”

“I can’t help myself,” she says. “I need you. Please.”

“Claire, for God’s sake. Don’t make this more difficult than it already is. We should go. Come with me. Please.” He holds out his hand, but she refuses it, walking past him to the car.

They drive in silence. There is nothing to say. He gets out of the car to open her door but she is already out and heading toward my house, the key under the mat. She says nothing.

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