After wrapping the soft bathrobe around my wet body, I look in the mirror and wonder why the man I married, the man who once was willing to do anything just to make me happy, has basically stopped being the man I was head-over-heels in love with? I know I am much older now, but so is he. I often wonder if he still blames me for the horrible tragedy we suffered more than nine years ago. He insists he doesn't, but part of me thinks he does.

It truly was the worst night of our lives. We really haven't been the same since that night. He looks at me with such sadness and loathing. His words say he would never blame me for that devastating night, but his lack of interest in spending time with me and no sex in nearly nine months speaks volumes. No matter what I do to try and show him I'm still willing to try and save our marriage, he comes up with another excuse to leave.

"I'm at the end of my rope. I just don't know what else I can do to show him I'm still willing to try," I whisper as I enter our bedroom.

"Ava," he walks in much to my surprise.

"Bryson, I didn't know you were home. Would you like me to cook you some breakfast?"

"No, thank you. I already ate breakfast," he replies

"Oh, where did you have breakfast?" I ask. His eyes quickly looking down at the floor not wanting to make eye contact.

"I had an unexpected early meeting at the waffle house, sorry I didn't call."

"The waffle house is nearly an hour from here, Bryson. Why didn't you call me? I was up half the night worried about you," I sternly replied.

"Ava, we have been through this. My job is very important. There are times I have unexpected meetings that come up at the last minute and I don't always have time to call you."

"But you sure make time to go to company parties, go golfing with your work buddies, and take your secretary to her birthday lunch. You didn't even invite me, Bryson. What the hell is going on with you?" I snap.

"I told you, Ava, Mr. Wilson was supposed to be at Lori's birthday lunch meeting, but he canceled at the last minute leaving just the two of us there all alone."

"Did Mr. Wilson order you to pay for her lunch?" I sarcastically ask.

"No, Ava. It was her birthday, I didn't feel right leaving her to pay for her own birthday lunch."

"Right, but you have no problem leaving your wife to wonder where you are all night. And you had no problem missing our anniversary dinner date two weeks ago. Seems like I'm the one who gets your jackass side while everyone else gets the considerate, compassionate, kind side of you."

"I don't have time or the desire to stand here any longer arguing with you, Ava. I said I was sorry."

"You seem to be sorry a lot lately, Bryson. You're always so sorry leaving me in this house all alone and all night to wonder where you are, who you're with, who you might be doing. You're sorry you miss important times in our life. You're so sorry you're just too tired to make love, so that leaves me to wonder if you're not getting sex from me, who might you be getting it from?" I ask. His eyes once again look towards the floor.

"I'm not cheating on you, Ava," his words fail to convince me. I lift his chin, he quickly steps back from my touch.

"It's been nine months, Bryson. Not even so much as a quick kiss. You might want to be on guard," I smirk.

"On guard, what the hell does that mean, Ava?"

"One man's loss could be another man's gain,"

"What the hell, Ava? Are you threatening to go out there and find yourself another man? How dare you."

"Why are you acting so outraged, Bryson? It's not like you still find me desirable, you have made that abundantly clear."

"And what makes you think any other man will find you desirable, Ava? You're older, not as tight and firm as you once were," his harsh words cut through me. My hand swings around making a loud smacking sound on his cheek.

"Shit, you bitch," he shouts rubbing his red colored cheek.

"Bryson, I'm sorry," I whisper.

"I am out of here. Do not wait up," he scolds as he grabs his overnight bag from the closet and quickly makes his way downstairs.

"Great, who knows when he'll be home now. Am I kidding myself thinking there is even the slightest hope for us?" I say as I make my way to the kitchen to call my best friend.

"Ava?"

"Lydia, thank god you're home. I really need my best friend right now."

"You sound really pissed, Ava. What the hell did Bryson do now?"

"The same crap he always does." I sigh in frustration.

"Give me five minutes, I'll be right over," she says, I make a pot off coffee and pour it our coffee mugs.

"Ok, I'm here. What the hell did that jackass do now, Ava?" She asks as she lowers herself on the wooden kitchen chair.

"I think the better question is, who is that jackass doing? Because he hasn't been doing me, Lydia."

"Oh god, it's come to the point he's now cheating on you, Ava?"

"I honestly don't know. He is barely home, and when he is home, I'm lucky if he says a full sentence to me. He never makes eye contact with me, and we haven't had sex in nearly nine months. I can't even remember the last time Bryson slept beside me in our bed."

"Ava, what the hell are you going to do? You can't keep yourself in this house trying to make your husband happy when clearly, he's checked out of your marriage a long time ago."

"I know you're right. Being stuck in this house trying to make him happy when he's being so insistent on not wanting to help make our marriage work is making me resent him. My gut instinct is telling me he is having an affair with his secretary, Lori Tomlin."

"Well, then maybe you should get yourself out in the world and have yourself some fun?" She smiles.

"What kind of fun, Lydia?"

"The kind of fun you deserve to have, Ava."

"He told me no other man would find me desirable so, maybe it's not that bad of an idea to go out and have some fun," I whisper. She places her hand on mine.

"Prove him wrong. You show him, and you show yourself you're still a bag full of hotness," she chuckles.

"What, how, wait, I can't, Lydia," I say. She pulls me out of the chair and over by the mirror in the family room.

"Ava, you might be forty-five, but look how stunningly beautiful you are."

"Most men don't go for women with red hair, Lydia."

"How the hell do you know that, Ava? Maybe they have a hard time finding women with red hair? Look at yourself. Look at those big beautiful blue eyes, your long shiny red hair, that flawless pale skin. Any man in his right mind would want to be with you."

"My husband no longer wants to be with me," I remind her.

"I said any man in his right mind, Ava. Bryson is a dumbass who no longer deserves to be with you. Just be open-minded enough to let me take you there and introduce you to what's called a fun time? You remember having fun?"

"Oh man, ok, I trust you enough you won't send me straight in the arms of deranged psycho."

"No, I would never do that. The place I have in mind will be the best time of your life. Just don't be so quick to walk out before you give it a good chance to show you how much fun it truly is," she tries convincing me.

"Lydia, exactly what does this fun place involve?"

"Oh trust me, it involves so much fun and so many people who love to have fun.

"Ok, what's this place called?"

The pleasure high club."

"What, Lydia?"

"Give it a chance, Ava. Don't knock it till you try it."