The clouds were suspended over the church as we found our car in the light spring rain. The cooler temperature matched Tara's mood. Her exit from the parking lot matched her anger.
"Please slow down," I calmly begged, knowing full well that Tara wouldn't. I'd given up hope after she ran the second red light in as many intersections. "Killing us both won't bring her back," I said as I watched her tighten her grip on the black leather steering wheel.
Tara and Stephanie had been best friends since college. Last week's bicycle accident was as unexpected a tragedy as any of us could have imagined. They'd ridden through those woods for 15 years with the occasional bumps and bruises, but the fall that took Stephanie's life was a shock to Tara's core.
As Tara pulled over to the side of the winding highway, I unbuckled my seat built. She was in no condition to drive after the funeral. For a week she was a rock for everyone because she was the closest person to Stephanie in the world. She executed everything from funeral arrangements to financial specifics. Tara was everybody's rock, but I wasn't sure if she had sustained her own head trauma during her wipeout. "Can you pull over more?" I asked as I looked over the back window at the traffic hurdling through the mist.
"Why the fuck didn't she listen?" Tara whispered, hands still fixed to the wheel. "She could have stopped. Why didn't she fucking stop?" She gripped the steering with all her might.
I just closed my eyes. Tara's pain was exploding while my guilt was eating away at me. Stephanie may have been Tara's college roommate and best friend, but three years ago Stephanie and I developed a closer relationship.
***********
Tara was in Montreal for a conference when Stephanie built up enough courage to make her move. For years it was obvious that Stephanie had a crush on me. She'd always deny it, but Tara and I knew that she was infatuated with me. It was a joke for five years.
And then it wasn't a joke. From practically the beginning of our relationship Tara and I weren't on the same page sexually. We were more than in love, but Tara grew less and less interested in sex as her career took off. My dick was a minor distraction in her world and she had no trouble telling me. "Please take care of that elsewhere," she'd tell me, but I didn't think that was what she really wanted. Every other week or month she'd apologize and we'd fumble through an intimate act that only frustrated both of us. We were making it work, somehow. The rest of our relationship was actually amazing, but the tension around our sex life made for some terrible fights. Truth be told, I found her career and personality both too intimidating and important to bother with my petty needs.
One particular week she practically laughed at my needs. "If your dick was in that much need," she sneered, "you'd have bent me over and simply fucked me." That was her special kiss goodbye as she got into the limousine on her way to yet another speaking engagement in Paris.
Humiliated and emasculated, I spent the better part of the week buried in work. I hit the gym at 6AM, at the office by 8AM and didn't get home until 10PM. Tara's apology texts went unanswered as I feared her return Saturday morning.
When I pulled into the garage Friday evening, I found Stephanie's car in the third section of the three car garage. I could hear the vacuum cleaner in the family room, but I chose to keep to the kitchen. As I made myself a sandwich I heard the vacuum turn off and the worst version of Sade's 'Smooth Operator' take it's place. Stephanie obviously had her headphones on and hadn't realized anyone else was in the house. As she danced into the family room, I was greeted by a Raiders t-shirt and an orange thong that was not quite the typical maid's uniform.
Tara and Stephanie were best friends in the same way that Tara and I were married. Tara made the rules and Stephanie willingly followed. From job choices to boyfriend breakups, Stephanie was dependent on Tara's advice. Their relationship was so close that I wondered if Tara's lack of sexual interest in me was related to her connection with Stephanie.
Of course I didn't have the courage to ask Tara so I brought it up to Stephanie. "Not our thing," Stephanie simply denied. I was kind of hoping it was, but that was the last of that conversation.
"Oh, Jesus!" Stephanie screamed as she finally realized I was behind the island watching her one woman show. "Why didn't you tell me that you were home, asshole?" she shouted as she caught her liseli hikayeleri breath and fell to the couch.
"Didn't think I had to announce myself in my own house," I replied. I tried to focus on my turkey on whole wheat, but my dick was captivated by what that orange thong was trying unsuccessfully to contain.
"Tara asked me to straighten up the house before you she got home because she said you were MIA," Stephanie explained as she tried to wiggle her thighs into her t-shirt. "Where have you been?" she questioned accusingly.
"Working," I answered flatly.
"Working so hard you can't text your wife?" Stephanie barked back.
"At least I can wear pants,"
I snickered in return.
"Shut up!" Stephanie laughed. "They're in your wash," she said as she bounced up from the couch and scuttled up to the island so I couldn't see below her waist. "Barbecue stain," she sighed.
"I bet," I continued to snicker. Stephanie was an amazingly beautiful woman, but she never felt comfortable about her shapely curves. She hit the gym constantly to keep fit but no amount CrossFit could contain what God bestowed upon her. In contrast, Tara could eat anything and stay supermodel thin.
"Fuck you," Stephanie laughed. My not-so-subtle jab at her weight was clearly a reminder of what Tara had been punching since they were freshmen in college. "At least you'll have something new to think about when you're jacking off tomorrow night!"
"Why don't you give me a little show to remember?" I pushed back. "I don't get that much eye candy around here."
Stephanie stepped back from the granite island with a stubborn defiance. Her muscular frame held up her round dimensions and my eyes recorded every inch.
"Is this what you'd like to see?" Stephanie softly spoke, her typically high pitched voice turning sultry.
In that moment the joke was over. We were no longer mimicking Tara's cruel treatment of our faults. We were two adults alone with a clear need for a connection. A connection that involved positive vibes.
"You know that your body is what Tara wishes she had," I said I stared with an appreciation and sincerity typically reserved for exquisite works of beautiful art.

"I don't think I care what Tara wants right now," Stephanie responded as she shyly pulled her black