Feminist Friday: Everything You Say Can and Will Be Held Against You

Friday, April 03, 2015

Photo Credit: http://kirra-photography.deviantart.com/art/Delicate-Love-81067387

Everything You Say Can and Will Be Held Against You



The room was bugged.

It was the same room they always booked the first and third Wednesday of every month. She was a high society career woman, never married, and carried strong opinions against housewives. He was an ambitious political figure, married straight after high school to the brainless, spineless girl who had always lived next door. He and his wife had five children together, none of which he had any sort of relationship with. He didn’t have the time. He had dreams of becoming president someday, but for now he was aiming for South Carolina governor. A dream that would be shattered if the news of this affair were to be leaked.

“Who did you tell?” he asked her.

They were sitting on the patio outside. It was safer there. The hum of the radiator and the traffic beyond the gated motel overwhelmed their whispered conversation. She had to lean in slightly to hear him.

“I beg your pardon?” she asked, eyebrows raised in reproach.

“You heard me,” he said. “There’s a reason we’re sitting out here in this goddamn heat because our room’s full of invisible people who don’t know how to mind their own damn business.”

“Well, I assumed your wife had something to do with this.”

“Carol?”

He chuckled and shook his head at the image of his clueless, gangly, delicate wife planting bugs around the motel room. When would she have the time? How would she even know about this place, this room? He had always been very careful. Everything was under a different name and account, and he was always home in time for dinner. She would have no reason to be suspicious.

“She’s smarter than you think. You don’t give women enough credit. A woman’s intuition knows and tells all,” she said.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her eyes widened and she leaned back in her seat. He was talking to her the way he often talked about his wife. 

“You’re nothing like her,” he would tell her as they lay in bed together, the same bed that was now deemed unsafe. “She’s pathetic. She sits at home all day, and complains as soon as I get home. The kids are driving her crazy or her hair needs to be done, or the maid didn’t do this or that properly…there’s always something she needs me to do. As if I don’t already have enough to deal with.”

He’d sigh in dramatic frustration, run his hand through his dark hair, but any sign of stress would leave him as soon as his eyes made contact with hers. Then, he would kiss her lips and whisper into the smooth skin on her neck I love you.

But not today.

“You don’t have to be cruel,” she said. “I have just as much to lose as you if we’re discovered.”

He scoffed.

“I hardly agree,” he said. 

She stood up. She didn’t have to put up with this. She could find better things to do with her time than sit here and be patronized.

“Where are you going?” he asked, standing up with her and grabbing her wrist.

“I’m leaving,” she said.

“Like hell you are!”

He yanked her, hard, and pressed her into his chest. She squirmed, and he held her tighter.

“Let go of me!” she said. “I am not your pet! I do not stay at your command!”

“Shh.”

“No, I—”

He covered her mouth with his. She tensed and then relaxed.

They had found a way to maintain the silence.

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