Bondage

He loves me. I know he does. If my husband didn’t love me he wouldn’t buy me jewelry and Star Fleet uniforms. That’s true love. So, with all that clear-cut proof why do I feel so worried? It’s just that for the past couple of weeks life around here has been a little different. There’s a spring in his step. There’s a gleam in his eye that I haven’t seen since he redeemed all his points at Best Buy. A wife knows. And I know I have nothing to do with this sudden burst of giddy energy. Clearly, my husband’s attention for me is waning. Why else would he keep going “out?” What more can I do but wear my Star Fleet uniform while I’m vacuuming—more. 

“Honey, I’m going out to a movie. I’ll be back in a coupe hours.” 

“Again?” the inside voice in my head mutters. 

“What movie are you going to see?” my outside voice politely enquires. 

“Skyfall.”

 There is no hidden guilt in his statement, no remorse in his admission. 

“But, you’ve seen that three times!” 

“I know…”

I understand now. 

My husband is having an affair.

With James Bond. 

I should have seen it coming. There are always signs. 

“Honey, what movie do you want to watch tonight…?” my husband begins. 

“I don’t know…maybe the Star Trek reboot or we could go old school and watch The Wrath of Kahn?” (I generally can’t pull off phrases like “old school” or “that’s how I roll,” but I figured in this context it was more true than trendy.)

My husband looked at me with utmost intensity, “No. What JAMES BOND movie do you want to watch tonight?” 

I’d come home from the grocery store only to hear Sean Connery’s sexy brogue reverberating through the house. I’d take a nap only to hear Shirley Bassey belting Goldfinger in my dreams. I’ve lost my husband to a world of fast cars, exploding pens, and Pussy Galore. This has all left me a bit shaken, not stirred. How in the world can I bring him back?

If this was a love my husband and I shared (like our love of me in a Star Fleet uniform), then maybe I wouldn’t feel so betrayed. Our movie tastes are usually quite similar—something we can bond over. But, as charismatic as Sean Connery was and as hot as Daniel Craig is, I can only share in each of James’ journeys the one time, unlike my husband who can watch any one of the Bond films over and over again—and usually does.

I suppose I’m no match, but like Moneypenny, I’ll be there waiting for him.  

I only hope when The Hobbit comes out, I won’t have bought my elf costume for nothing.