The Itch by Benilde Little

Author:Benilde Little
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Free Press

chapter 17

CULLEN READ the same line in the accountant’s report three times before he realized he wasn’t concentrating. He felt warm and asked the flight attendant for water. He would take a taxi right to Sherry and David’s, even though he was in no mood for a party. He had too much work, but he knew Abra would be there waiting for him. He glanced at his watch.

Cullen was one for careful decisions. He thought that he’d done the calculations, all the math, before marrying Abra, and he had. The one thing he hadn’t factored, however, was the variable—that piece that couples who have the real thing own. He didn’t know about that thing, couldn’t think about it before he met Cynthia. How little he knew made him cringe. The affair had simply highlighted to him how unfulfilled he’d been with Abra. He could continue doing it, keep his marriage intact; plenty of people survived that way, but mere survival wasn’t good enough for him. Having Cynthia once a week wasn’t going to be enough. The more he had, the more he had to have. He knew what he was going to have to do, but the thought of telling Abra, the woman who loved him as much as his own mother did, caused agony. The very thought of it made him feel hollow, like his insides might have cannibalized themselves. He knew that if he left her, she would be destroyed, and it would be his fault. How could he live with that? He was her world and everybody knew it. But, if he stayed, he would destroy himself. It wouldn’t be fair to either of them.

When he arrived at the party, the usual crew was there. Bert and Lisa, new parents, now too tired to fight with each other, were showing pictures to Ray and Hanna, who’d just come back from Nevis, tanned and blissful. Sherry and David sat with Abra, who looked as if she’d started drinking before she had left home. She’d put on too much eye makeup, her dirty hair was slicked back into a bun, her blue silk pants were wrinkled, her black suede pumps were scuffed. Everyone noticed, but no one said anything about her appearance. She greeted Cullen with a chill that everyone felt, barely looking at him with her wan eyes. Cullen sat next to his wife and tried to talk to her.

He whispered, fearing her answer, “Everything okay?”

“Okay? Okay, Cullen?” She raised her voice. “Course, dear,” she said even louder. “Everything is okay. Why wouldn’t everything be fucking okay?”

“Abra, why don’t you give me that?” he said softly, reaching for her goblet.

She jerked her glass from his reach, red wine bleeding onto her pants. “Fuck!” she yelled, standing up. Now everyone was fully tuned in, watching unabashedly what was clearly a woman coming apart.

“Abra, lower your voice,” Cullen demanded.

Sherry brought a towel and rubbed Abra’s shoulder. “Why don’t you come into the bedroom? You can—” she said.

“No, Sherry, I don’t want to go gather myself,” she said, again loudly.

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