"You said you would help." my wife said sternly, staring at me from across the table.

We were sharing a bottle of wine as I flipped through resumés and cover letters.

"Yeah," I replied with frustration, "but that's just one of those things couples say to each other for comfort. I didn't actually mean it. Did you mean it? Don't act all high and mighty."

We had agreed when we got married that if one of us was chosen for The Portal, said person would help the other find a suitable replacement partner.

"Yes. I meant it. Not that it would have taken long. I see you check out Michelle whenever she comes by." she responded with a glare.

"And you being the 'Evening Poolside Secretary/Lifeguard' to The Selector isn't at all shady?"

"Oh, this old broken record again," she sighed, "How many times do I have to explain to you that Bruce has a very stressful job and often works 16-hour days? His doctor advised him to relax in his private pool in the evenings and needs someone there to jot things down and make calls when he thinks of something. Maybe you should read the job description instead of just constructing rash opinions about things you know nothing about."

In fact, I had read the job description. It claimed that the mighty Selector, who was captain of his high school swim team, needed someone to be both his secretary and swimsuit-wearing lifeguard in the evenings, just in case he fell asleep while thinking in his four-and-a-half-foot deep pool-sized hot tub. My wife had gotten the job last summer.

There was nothing I could do about any of this now, though. There were police officers surrounding our home in case I tried to escape that night. I took a big gulp of wine and stared deeply at woman I'd been in love with for the better part of a decade. She was still gorgeous. As I looked at her shiny blonde hair, I thought about all the times I had grabbed it during sex, like when she gave me road head on the way to the 'good' Burger King on the East Side after she had spent the night getting wasted with her girlfriends and was craving chicken nuggets. Though, she let it slip years later that she accidentally called me while trying to order a taxi, which made the fact that she winked and said "I hope you don't mind; I don't have any cash on me" when I dropped her off at home a little less funny and a lot more problematic.