The Wanted Girls

Chapter 7

Nate's POV

I never wanted to be a dead-beat dad. Or any kind of dad, for that matter. Kate, on the other hand... She was always a mother without a child, nurturing and loving and tender. I could never see myself having the patience to handle children with the gentle nature she had.

"It's safe," Kate whispered that night. "You can come inside me."

We were making love late at night, and because we had been together for years, and had done this a thousand times before, I knew it must be. Her body was so familiar to me, it could almost be my own. I knew that she had just had her period. I can do math. It should have been safe. 

And then a few weeks later, I found out I was going to be a dad.

Kate has never liked being on the pill, any type of pill. Over the course of our relationship and our marriage, she has tried it different times, always finding it unpleasant. If it doesn't give her headaches, or breakthrough bleeding, or random cramps, it makes her nauseous or bloated.

I never fought her on it; I understood. I don't like wearing condoms. I always pulled out, once we were exclusive early on in our relationship. That worked well for us, and I continued to do it whether she was on the pill or not. It didn't make sense for her to be on the pill if I was going to pull out anyways.

"It just doesn't seem fair that I should alter my body chemistry and feel like crap, just so a man can happily blow his load in me," she once said matter-of-factly. 

And that was that. 

I don't even think what I did was wrong, the way I found out. She has tried to guilt me over and over again, but I just don't see how she can see me as the bad guy. I could have talked to her, but it is so much easier to snoop through her phone and her laptop to find out what she is really up to.

After what she she did, she doesn't deserve privacy anyways. 

The open marriage was her suggestion, after years of threesomes and orgies and trips to s*x clubs, and the understanding that she could be with women, alone, if she wanted to. And that I could be with men, alone, if I wanted to. It worked beautifully for years.

It didn't take long for everything to go wrong. 

We both got on Tinder right away, and I started matching and chatting and meeting up. I would let Kate know I was going to hook up with someone, and she didn't care. Just told me to have a good time, and when I got home after, obviously, having a good time, she would smile and ask if I had fun, and that would be it.

The other way around was a different story, and I know I didn't handle it well. 

She had been talking to someone she had met with a friend, and after some time she said he was in town and she was going to his hotel room. Afterwards, I found I didn't mind too much.

Then, a couple weeks later, she said she was meeting him again. And in between, they had been texting. I grudgingly let her go a second time, but commented that I didn't think we would be doing repeat hook ups. She reminded me that we never really agreed, which I accepted. But a few days later I couldn't shake my apprehension. I unlocked her phone while she slept, and scrolled through their exchanges. It was nothing too troubling; however, I told her the next day that I had noticed her messaging with him a lot, and that I wanted her to cut down on that.

She agreed, but a week and a half later she was messaging him again.

"We were talking for a long time before," she explained. "He keeps messaging me to talk, I don't want to be rude and ignore him."

I am fairly certain they didn't meet up again for a while, but a month or so later, she said they were going to meet up and hang out, and probably wouldn't hook up, but who knows.

And then she met a couple. And started chatting with another guy. I didn't like it, but I let her, trying to show how displeased I was, letting her see that I didn't want her to go and that I was judging her for it. For her part, she always looked sheepish when she returned home. I'd give her the cold shoulder until bed time, then give her a quick snuggle before turning away for the rest of the night, so that she would know how much I didn't want to be close to her right now, so soon after she had been with someone else.

I didn't like it, and I seethed with jealousy every time she smiled after receiving a text notification. I had to let her, though, so I could keep doing what I wanted. I wasn't going to give up the excitement and thrill of hooking up with someone new, and go back to the way things were before.

For the most part I was able to push aside how I was feeling, because I was enjoying myself too much. I could match with someone while I was at work, chat for the rest of the day, meet up for a drink afterwards, tell Kate what I was going to do, and be home in time to chill with her on the couch at night.

Still, though, while she slept, I couldn't help myself. I had to know if she was telling me everything.

She wasn't. She had met up with people and hadn't told me.

I was furious. She countered that I should not have gone through her phone, and that she felt damned if she did, and damned if she didn't. 

"I give you so much freedom!" she said heatedly. "You made me feel like s**t every time I met up with someone, or even talked about it, and now you snooping through private messages...! That's disgusting, Nate!"

So what? I thought. Serves you right, you lying slut.

I am not sure how long it was before it happened with Him, but it can't have been more than a few months later. To the best of my knowledge - and with more snooping; she tried to change her passcode, but you can only unlock your phone so many times, sitting right next to someone, before that person guesses the pattern.

I saw that she had met up with this one girl a few times, but I had no idea what was headed my way.

One Friday night, after I knew she was at Fountain, a s*x club we frequent, she didn't come home.

The next afternoon, she stumbled in just as I was making lunch for myself. 

"Where were you last night?" I asked immediately. "You didn't answer any of my texts!"

She looked so goddamn guilty, I could have smacked her. 

"I met someone at Fountain," she stammered. "I went home with him."

"Thanks for letting me know," I said sarcastically. 

"I didn't think anything was going to happen," she explained weakly.

"'I didn't think anything would happen'," I mimicked, and she winced. "Kate, you went home with someone from Fountain. What did you think was going to happen?"

"I just mean, I didn't think I'd be out all night," she said quickly. "We drank a lot, I fell asleep. I felt hungover."

"Jesus Christ, Kate." I shook my head and continued making my sandwich as she hung up her jacket and went to the washroom.

I sat down to eat and she came out of the bathroom, still looking guilty.

"Nate," she said.

"What is it now?" I asked, not caring that my mouth was full.

She looked about to fall apart. "It was someone I already knew. That you know." She said it like it was all one word, a rush that matched the rush of colour to her face.

Alex, I thought.