Something inside Heather snapped.
"Well, I'm glad somebody around here is going to get some sleep tonight!"
Tom tried to ignore her harsh tone. "Just relax, honey. Think about something nice. You'll fall asleep in no time. Honest!"
Something inside Tom recognized what he had done to his wife, brought her up to a peak of arousal and left her hanging. But he tried to ignore it. He had to ignore it, for his own self-respect, his own peace of mind.
"Good night, honey," he murmured as he snuggled comfortably against his pillow.
"Tom!" She couldn't let him just ignore her like this. She was mad!
Suddenly she had more response from her husband than she had reckoned on. He sat up abruptly and turned to face her.
"Listen, Heather! Get off my Goddamned back, will you? Can I help it if I'm married to a nympho? Jesus Christ! What's a guy supposed to do?"
After he had spoken his piece, he resumed his sleeping position. But he was wide awake now. And miserable.
"Nympho!?" she screamed. "Who's a nympho? I'm just a normal woman with a normal sex drive. And you're not satisfying it!"
There was silence in the room.
Heather was shocked by the brutal reality of her own words. It seemed an awful thing to do, to take a swipe at her husband's manhood like that.
But what about her? She had needs, too!
But still, she was a little ashamed of herself. And like many people who are ashamed of themselves, she tried to cover up by defending her position more energetically than ever.
"You're turning me into a shrew, Tom!"
Silence.
"Well… maybe there'll be somebody interesting at the Whitcombs' party tomorrow night. Somebody to take my mind off my troubles."
There was nothing more said in the bedroom that night, though both husband and wife lay awake for hours.
The Whitcombs' party was already in full swing when Tom and Heather arrived.
Linda and Jake Whitcomb were Heather and Tom's next-door neighbors and best friends. They would have been very hurt if Heather and Tom had not shown up at the party.
Otherwise, the younger couple would never have come. They were not in a party mood. They hadn't even spoken to each other all day.
Heather hadn't meant what she said the night before about looking for someone at the party to take her mind off her troubles. She had always been a faithful wife, had never even dreamed about looking for sex with other men.
But despite herself, this evening Heather was enjoying the usual fawning attention she got from men at parties. The pretty redhead was a good dresser. She looked stunning in a low-cut black sheath dress and black heels. She wore bright-red lipstick and nail polish that finished off her appearance, made her look like a high-fashion model or a movie star. While one man lit her cigarette, another fetched her a drink. Another lavished her with compliments.