The First Time by Joy Fielding

years, we only got married in the first place because of Kim, we’ve given it our best shot, fifteen years is nothing to sneeze at. We should feel proud, not sad. Right? This is going to work out great for both of us. In fact, you’re probably doing me a favor.” She paused, arched one eyebrow. “What do you say? Think I’m onto something?”
    Jake released a deep whoosh of air from his lungs,said nothing. He’d been a fool to think he might emerge from this discussion unscathed. Mattie would have her pound of flesh. By the time he walked out the front door, he’d be as battered and bruised as she was.
    Mattie walked to the fireplace, leaned against it, her back to him. “Are you moving in with your little friend?”
    Jake felt his body turn to ice. “What?”
    “I think you heard me.”
    He looked toward the window, not sure how to respond. What was happening? Even Mattie’s outburst had been somewhat expected. But not this. This wasn’t part of the script. What should he tell her? How much should he tell her? How much did she really want to know? How much did she already know? “I’m not sure I understand,” he said, stalling.
    Mattie spun around, eyes on fire, ready for battle. “Oh, please,” she said. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You think I don’t know about your latest girlfriend?”
    How could she know? Jake thought, wondering how he could have come to this confrontation so unprepared. Didn’t a good attorney always do his homework? Didn’t he come to the table with all the pertinent facts at hand, so that there would be no unpleasant surprises? Still, how could Mattie know? Was she just posturing? Should he continue to feign ignorance? Call her bluff? “How did you find out?” he asked, opting for full disclosure.
    “The same way I always find out.” She shook her head, a gesture rife with disgust. “For such a smart lawyer, you can be awfully stupid.”
    Jake felt his back stiffen. “I was hoping we wouldn’t make this personal,” he said.
    “Not personal? You’re leaving me for another woman, and you don’t think it’s personal?”
    “I was hoping we wouldn’t get into name calling. That we could still be friends,” he offered weakly.
    “You want to be friends?”
    “If that’s possible.”
    “When have we ever been friends?” she asked, her voice incredulous.
    He looked toward the floor, fixating on the arcs and swirls in the dark wood grain. “Doesn’t that tell you anything?”
    “No. What should it tell me?”
    “Mattie,” Jake began, then stopped. What was he going to say? She was right. They’d never been friends. Why on earth would they start now? “How long have you known?”
    “About this one? Not long.” She shrugged, winced, walked to the window, stared out at the street. “By the way, how was your room at the Ritz-Carlton? It’s always been one of my favorite hotels.”
    “You had me followed?”
    Mattie laughed, a harsh, angry sound that scratched at the air like a cat’s claws, leaving almost visible scars. “Irrelevant and argumentative,” she snapped, using his earlier words as a weapon against him.
    “What were you planning to do about it?”
    “I hadn’t made up my mind.”
    There was a long pause during which neither spoke. So she knew all about his affair. Jake wondered if Mattie had spotted Honey in court, if that had prompted her outburst. Was she really as vindictive as that? Or had her laughter been as spontaneous asMattie claimed, as upsetting to her as it had been to him? He didn’t know, Jake realized, wincing with invisible pain of his own. He didn’t know his wife of fifteen years very well at all.
    “Maybe your subconscious made it up for you,” Jake said simply.
    “Maybe,” she agreed quietly, turning slowly toward him, silhouetted against the fading light of day. Even in this light, Jake could see that the anger had left her eyes. Its sudden departure had softened her stance, released the tight arch of her