There was silence on his end, and Delia felt bad, understanding that what she had predicted was true. His wife would never trust him again. And no doubt the bedroom door was closed. What else could a woman do to restore her dignity after her husband screwed another woman? If she wasn’t the kind who’d have an affair herself, then how else would she feel better? Two wrongs didn’t make a right, but when there was a wrong, it was near impossible to be right-minded.
“Ella wouldn’t—” Ted began to say.
“She’ll never trust you again, and she shouldn’t,” Delia interrupted him, her voice suddenly full of bitterness. “You were falling in love with me. I saw it. I can always tell. It wasn’t just sex for you. And just think, you will have a sexless marriage for the rest of your natural life.” She couldn’t believe her own meanness, but she would not let him talk well of his wife on her clock. He’d never mentioned how great his wife was when he was trying to take off Delia’s clothes. “So, congratulations, Ted Kim. Hopefully, you can find someone else to screw on your part-time. Good luck. Gotta go.”
Ted felt as if he were talking to the devil himself, but he didn’t believe in men in red suits.
“Wait,” he said.
“What the hell do you want now?” Delia’s voice grew quiet. It wasn’t like her to be so cruel, and the effort had exhausted her.
“I didn’t tell Casey to stop speaking to you.”
“Casey? She wouldn’t listen to you even if you paid her. She can’t stand you. She’s just being loyal to Ella, which I understand. But how dare you call me at my office—” Delia started to cry suddenly, and in her anger, she realized that he had never explained himself, never called her about walking in on her with Santo at her place, never told her that it meant something to him when it had. He had been jealous, and you weren’t jealous unless you cared. Those six weeks had meant something to her. She had liked him. All these Wall Street hot shots, they acted as if they thought with just their trousers, but she could tell how they wanted to talk, to caress her, and so many of them had even said they loved her. But she never wanted to break up families. That wasn’t what she wanted. So when she refused to commit to them, they left. One day, she wanted to meet someone to fall in love with. She had never been in love, thought it sounded like some sort of trick. After all, all the married men who had chased her so hard had said they loved their wives. What the hell did that mean, anyway, if they could love their wives and want her, too? So true love didn’t exist as far as she was concerned. And what made Delia angry was that she had never asked for anything. Didn’t want anything from them. The only thing she wanted was a baby. And for that reason alone, she had not used a condom with Ted, because even though she didn’t expect him to stick around, she figured he was fertile and he really did seem like a good guy. A smart guy, but who like all the others assumed that she was on the pill. Someone who could at least biologically father her child.
“Can we talk tonight?” His assistant was standing at his door now. He’d been ignoring her beeps.
“There’s nothing to say.”
“May I please take you to dinner? Anywhere you want.”
“Did I ever ask you for a meal? Do you think I could care about something like that?”
Ted shook his head no. It was true. Delia wasn’t impressed by money. “I need to see you.”
“No, Ted. I don’t think so.”
“I am sorry.” He found himself apologizing to her, and it wasn’t like him to do so.
“For what?” Again, her voice grew quiet.
“I’m sorry that it ended like this. You’re a wonderful girl, and I miss talking to you. You tell funny stories.” He didn’t elaborate on how she always made him smile, and when he was with her, his shoulders and neck muscles relaxed. When he went home, he didn’t feel that way. From the beginning, he had needed to impress Ella, to prove that he was winning or something like that—she hadn’t asked him to do this, but something about her had made him feel less. With Delia, it felt different; she didn’t seem to care about his performance.
“Hey—Delia, please?”
Delia’s office was still empty. Her office mates were all at a food tasting at the Marriott. The door was closed, and she felt grateful for the privacy—so different from the trading floor. The truth was that she’d picked up his call because she wanted to hear his voice again.