Caught

She was laughing so much snot fell freely with the tears down her chin. Sobs of relief wracked her frame and she let her head fall into her hands until the hysteria subsided.

At least the ache in her stomach had un-knotted, now that she knew that Mark wasn't leaving her for another woman.

"Honey...?" he cautiously approached and sat beside her, ignoring the questioning gazes of the hotel lobby traffic.

"Oh, Mark. I thought... Well, you know what I thought; hotels, weekends away, hours on the Internet and mysterious phone calls..." she left the rest unsaid and allowed him to tentatively place a light arm around her waist. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Well, I thought it bugged you. You always seemed so embarrassed when I mentioned it, or wanted to involve you - I just figured that it was better to keep quiet and just do it with like-minded people. I never meant to hurt you, honey."

She looked into his eyes and could see the awkward hurt contained. "Oh, what-the-heck. Go and find me a Klingon Ceremonial Sword and I'll join in."

Mark grinned, barked out a few commands down his Walkie-Talkie and a couple of role-playing tactical officers came out of the Star Trek convention main conference room. He let Anne wipe her face on his leather tunic; after all, a little mucus would be nothing to General K'Tandg...

(239 words)