His victory was short-lived, however. Heather's car was not in the garage. She was not home.
The anger Tom felt as he let himself into the dark house grew with the minutes and hours until at last he heard the sound of Heather's car in the drive.
He had downed a couple of ryes on the rocks while waiting. He was not drunk. But his nerves were on edge; his emotions were razor-sharp. Tonight he was determined to get to the bottom of his wife's mysterious outings with "the girls".
Being with Fay tonight had done more than allay his horniness. It had left him with a strong sense of his own masculinity. His little red-headed wife was not going to treat him like dirt any longer.
He smiled wryly as he noted the look of apprehension on Heather's face as she entered the living room.
"Well… if it isn't my little loving wife!" he drawled sarcastically. "How was your night out with the girls?"
"Tom…" She seemed at a loss for words. "I thought you'd be asleep, by now." She was scrutinizing him closely as she moved closer to where he sat on the couch.
"That's reasonable enough. Most people are asleep at five in the morning. And you can quit trying to ogle my eyeballs. I'm not drunk, either. In fact, I just got home a little bit before you."
She seemed shocked. "Oh?"
Somehow the idea that Tom, too, could have his little midnight outings had never occurred to the pretty redhead. She was not sure she liked the idea. She had been so busy catering to her own wants and needs, she had forgotten about Tom's. Absorbed in the drama of her own frustration, she had overlooked the horniness that Tom, too, must have suffered during the past weeks and months.
"Where were you, Tom?" The question was delivered quietly, timidly.
He smiled at her. The look made Heather more nervous than ever. She had never seen Tom look so cool and calculating, so sure of himself. Had he been changing over the past weeks? She couldn't be sure. They had seen so little of each other.
Or had something happened all at once – tonight perhaps – to wreak the change in her husband?
"I think there's something we ought to discuss before we get down to my activities tonight. Like you and the girls, for instance."
His eyes never left his wife's. The force of his look cowed Heather. She sank down into a chair facing him.
"What do you mean, Tom?" It was now that she realized how deeply angry the man was.
"I mean what have you really been doing every night after work?"
"But, Tom… I told you… I've been going out for a drink with some of the women at work. You know how girls are when they start talking. The hours just fly by!"