"Well," I admitted, "before you left I could've told you a great deal. Unfortunately, we've moved on a long way in your absence so now I can't tell you a darn thing." I made a motion like I was zipping my lip. The conversation drifted to the beauty of the continent and some other wildlife she'd observed.

After dinner, we moved into the living room where she brought me a fresh glass of wine. I sensed she was stiff as a board, more on edge as the night progressed. She sat in my lap and kissed me.

"Sweetheart," I was sure I didn't want to hear what came next. "I wish I could delay this so we could have more time to reconnect and I know it's going to cause a feud but I can't due to the timing." She paused looking desperate as she knew she was about to say something brutal.

"I have to leave again." She just stated it outright. "The team has to go to Mount Manaslu."

She waited again, studying my face. I didn't see that coming, no matter what I thought or expected. If memory served, Mount Manaslu was in the Himalayan range, somewhere in remote Nepal.

"And before you ask," she added, "it's a result of our recent research, more a component of, that's forcing us to go to place atmospheric devices. That's all I can tell you."

"I don't understand what you're doing," I said trying to hold back the anger. "I..."

"I just told you," she interrupted, "I can't discuss or disclose the reason."

"If you'd have let me finish," my volume rising, "I mean you personally. I don't understand you. Why are you going? How many meteorologists are on your team? We're supposed to be starting a family. How long will you be gone this time? And what's next when you return? Have you become so blinded that you've forgotten your commitments here with me?"

Marley didn't seem prepared for that line of questioning although, for the life of me, I didn't see why. Had she simply been so drawn in that she forgot her entire personal life?

"No, I haven't forgotten," she finally replied with an edge. "This is important and I..."

"Don't need to go," I finished for her. "Or find another capable person. What the hell is wrong with this Ronaldo bastard?"

"He's not a..." she paused and I could see plain as day that she realized her mistake; coming to his defense far too quickly. "He's a world-famous climatologist and we're on a mission to save this planet."

I forcefully grabbed her arms and gently moved her off of me. "I see. How long will you be gone this time?" I tried to say it without emotion but probably failed.

"Four weeks," she announced. "Same deal, depending on weather. Ron is already setting up the guides to get us up to the target elevation. Brinks began assembling the necessary supplies even before we left Antarctica."

I didn't respond so she kept at it. "It's only another month, Dan. I might have been gone that long before had the weather not cooperated. I know this isn't ideal but I'll be back before you know it. We can start with our plans then. I don't want to mess this up or disappoint Ron. This research is very important. I know you understand that, just like your project for the military."

My biggest takeaway was her not wanting to disappoint her boss. I needed to make my point crystal clear.

"The way things are going," I explained. "There's always going to be a next time. One experiment leads to another. One set of data points leads to a need for the next set. What happens if your results on that mountain prove or theorize your team's worst fears? What's next to climb? Then there's the fact that disappointing me is quite acceptable, but not your boss. I know I have to go up north at least once a week right now but obviously, I'm home more than not. Do you want a separation or divorce so that you feel better about focusing on your career? And remember, before you answer, that your husband doesn't believe there's a crisis or existential threat, and he's a scientist, too. You won't have the baggage of a marriage you're no longer committed to, and you'll be free to work all you want with Ron and Brinks. Why not face the music and end the charade?"

The conversation hadn't gone the way Marley likely wanted, and she still had not addressed my direct assertions. It also confirmed my belief that she had been with Sousa at least emotionally and probably sexually in Antarctica. I left her with a lot to unpack. At the end of it, I'd degraded her profession once more. She stood and went to the back of the house, unable to subdue her sobs. I heard the bedroom door slam and she was back there for quite a while. I thought I heard her on the phone. I grabbed my beer and went out on the back deck reassessing my life which is where we started this story.

When she returned, I had the TV on, watching some meaningless crime show. She grabbed the remote and turned it off, sitting across from me.

"Listen to me, Dan," she forcefully stated. "I don't want a divorce or a separation. I do want your respect as I respect you for your work, even though I don't agree with it sometimes. You know how I feel about the military, any military. We can disagree occasionally and still love each other. That's the nature of the beast. Do you still love me, or not?"

Well, there it was. "Marley, you know I do," I immediately replied. "Or we wouldn't be having this conversation at all. You know the problem. Ever since you went to Brinks - ever since you met Sousa - I'm a distant second to everything else in your life. Let's leave respect for the science out for a moment. I'm beginning to feel like I'm losing you to your career. It's like you've fallen in love with an idea, or ideal, and I'm on the back burner. I'm just suggesting an out for you so we don't end up hating each other if your career keeps taking you in a direction opposite of mine."

"It isn't that," she said. "Although, I can understand a little of what you're saying. This is important and yes, it's also important to me. A tough gig, yes, but only six months out of our whole lives, with only one left to go. I can't say I'll make it up to you when I get back but I hope you know I'll try. I still want the same things you do."

"Marley, Let me ask you something because this is likely the last time we'll have a conversation like this, like two marriage partners discussing their problems. You were and are an intelligent, convincing professional. You often engaged me directly with reasoned positions on a wide array of topics, even those outside your or my professions. That reasoning captured my attention, even when I may have disagreed with them. I'm trying to understand when you lost that?"

"I'm not sure I understand your question, Dan. What have I lost besides your trust and respect?"

I saw that she truly didn't understand; she was not just playing out the clock. "You dropped Antarctica on me despite some valid arguments I presented against the importance of you needing to be there. You no sooner return than you drop the Himalayas on me despite being away for five months.

"The wonderful woman I knew and married would have at least stepped up and offered alternatives to balance all that away time against your marriage and our commitment to start a family. I don't know if Sousa has a family or if he cares about anything but himself and his reputation. The woman I married would have found a way but it seems that since you joined Brinks, she has disappeared. Are you just a yes man to whatever he declares, including his desire for you?"

Her eyes began to tear and I had my answer. She struggled to respond to any of it but simply said, "I haven't done anything to be ashamed of."

"When do you leave?" I was tired of the circular conversation.

She recovered but still didn't make eye contact. "We fly to Zurich Monday morning and board a private flight to Katmandu from there."

There was little more to say. I expected her to coax me into sex but I guess our talk washed away any feelings of intimacy. I went to bed after she was asleep. The next morning, I watched her whenever she unlocked her phone. I found it interesting that she did it less in front of me and held it closer to her body. By the time she left to purchase some sundries for the trip, I'd decided that it wasn't complicated, more like zeros and sevens or eights.

Later that night, I feigned a headache, which really put Marley in a poor mood. I guess she thought she should get started softening me up for her trip with some great sex and my putting her off so directly, made her feel unloved, or something. Too bad, at least she got a sense of how she'd been making me feel.

After I knew she was asleep, I grabbed her phone off the charging station. My first two attempts didn't work and, if a third try failed, I'd be locked out. 7-0-7-0-7-0 did the trick.

Marley was one of those few people who kept her inbox neat and clean and I found nothing there except business emails. Nothing in her deleted file either. Scrolling her contacts, I didn't find a 'Ron.' I wondered if she used another name, or worse, if she had a nickname, a lover's name. As it turned out she did, Dr. Sousa, which almost made me sick. Of course, he had a PhD.

"I'm sorry that you'll have to put up with me a while longer, instead of executing your plans at home." His text said.

"It's alright," she replied. "He's being an ass anyway. He better get over it before we return from our climb or there won't be any baby making."

"Come now," he replied a few minutes later in this conversation they had had yesterday. He put a little emoji with a person's head blowing off. "Cut the guy some slack. You've been gone a long time and unlike you, he hasn't been getting any of his needs met. PROBABLY!"

"Yeah," she added a 'sigh' emoji.

"I got you a little something to make you happy!" he answered.

"Oh really!! (heart heart) "Tell me."

"I won't disclose," he teased. They were more than casual lovers which only strengthened my resolve. "Ok. It's more expensive and sexier than the lingerie I got you for ANTC. I can't wait for you to model it for me at 8500 feet."

My feelings surprised me. Staring at the words that tore us apart, it was more like all my worries had been validated, that my thinking we were done was spot on. It was as if the worst of a blowout ballgame was over in the third quarter and now the clock read 00:00. I had a lot to do and needed to move fast to protect myself. Lying on the couch my mind swirled like a churning angry sea between protection and redemption. My self-esteem needed a bit of revenge. My mind started to develop a worthy plan.

Part 2:

Marley:

Our climb hadn't gone the way I'd wanted. It hadn't gone the way anyone wanted, bordering between annoyance and disaster.

On the first day of our climb, one of the guides slipped on a false drift, one leg falling deep into the mirage of snow and badly twisting his ankle. The other guide almost took him down the mountain, basically canceling our mission until someone could be found to fill in.

His recovery cost us two days because we could only continue for as long as he could go and there were a lot of extra rests. Day five found us hunkered down in a terrible storm with high winds. The storm lasted almost an entire day.

Those things were probably omens but not what had happened to me while I was trapped in our shelters during the storm. That, I believed, was my husband's doing, a now totally in the know and pissed-off husband. On the morning of the second day, I began to itch all over my legs and arms. At first, I thought it was the new cold-weather clothing or gear Brinks had purchased for us. I also realized it was extremely dry at this altitude so that night in our tent, Ron applied plenty of moisturizing lotion to my naked body. As turned on as I was by his touches and slickness of the lotion, we could not consummate then what our bodies wanted.

On the third day, the uncomfortable itching spread over more of my body. I was glad the guide injured himself so I could get out of my clothes. I wet a washcloth from my pack and poured just enough hot water from our stove to rinse my body. I discovered raised, red blotches on the inside of my left thigh and near my left armpit.

I was only slightly worried and with the lotion soothing my skin, Ron and I made sweet love that night with a passion ignited by our inability to do so before. The storm had us in a holding pattern and, after the first two hectic days, we were able to spend quality time putting that lotion to good use.

Ron was a wonderful, experienced lover. The illicit nature of cheating probably added to the thrill but he knew his way around a woman's body. He knew exactly how to scratch my proverbial itch.

We'd become close working together, so much so, that it was a foregone conclusion we'd end up having sex before we'd left for Antarctica. We didn't talk about it at all, however, Ronaldo was confident and could sense any defenses I might have had melt away before we left.

I loved Dan, though. I wanted him to be the father of my kids when we finally got around to it. I was in no hurry but he was pushing for some reason. I knew once pregnant, I'd have to leave Ron's team so I decided to have a little fling with a famous, gorgeous, confident man. We'd probably never see each other again. I'd have my credentials, working with him and Brinks, I'd have my special secret memory of having him sexually every way I could think of, and I'd have a loving, happy husband to spend the rest of my days with.

The challenge of late was my husband's obnoxious attitude about my profession. I didn't take kindly to his snide remarks, even though some of what he'd said over the time we'd been together did make a little sense. I dared not mention our insignificant spats to Ron as I was embarrassed for my husband and his medieval beliefs. At least Ron was invested in a worthwhile cause, saving humanity, not making weapons to be unleashed from space.

Ron had complained of feeling itchy on days two and three but it dissipated for him. Not for me. My rashes got worse and, on the fourth day, Dr. Wilson, a certified medical doctor, who always accompanied the guides for emergencies, examined me.

I was given prescription-strength Calamine lotion and was told I'd need to be checked daily until the rash was gone. On day six, the rash had spread despite the medicine and the doctor told Ron that he was considering having me air-lifted off the mountain. When he said that, my thoughts about Dan being the source of all this seemed to be confirmed, angering me further as an additional disrespect for me and my profession.

Ron and I both argued against that, saying how important I was to the mission. I convinced the doctor that I'd sign something releasing his liability and that I was okay to continue. He told me not to use the moisturizing lotion I'd brought from home anymore.

That day, I was also given Griseofulvin as an anti-fungal and had to document every time I took a dose. The doctor also provided me with Benadryl cream. When the condition didn't diminish by the eighth day, even Ron was beginning to get very worried. The doctor gave me Amoxicillin that day to be safe so that I wasn't infected with a virus.

I was so miserable that Ron and I slept in separate sleeping bags. He felt genuinely bad for me. By day ten my rash was gone, and the team was on the move. We needed to place the AMDs (Atmospheric Measuring Devices) at or higher than 8400 feet above sea level, by my calculations, to capture the metals moving from our upper atmosphere back to Earth.

After that, whenever we had the strength, Ron and I had sex before sleeping. The nightie he'd purchased for me was from a famous Southern French manufacturer. I was delighted to model and take it off for him as foreplay since we were going at it pretty hard.

Unfortunately, thoughts of Dan started creeping into my brain. He'd acted so out of character before I left. He passed on sex both nights before I left and he'd never done that before. He'd been unnecessarily snide and even nasty about my work and how it interfered with his precious time, without a care for my feelings. That wasn't like my husband either.

The more I thought about it, however, Dan had always given little sideways jabs about climate science. When he crossed the line and pissed me off, he'd back down and most often apologize. Lately, though, those left-handed comments increased. And his incessant bleating about me and Ron gave me pause because, at the time, I was concerned about him finding out. How could he? Was he stabbing in the dark?

Could he be having an affair? I wondered. Was a new woman or friend influencing him? He'd mentioned someone... a new woman, who, based on his praises was smart and at the top of her game. I tried hard to put those thoughts out of my head.

After our third snowstorm, the second which had seemed to develop out of thin air, the entire team was on edge, especially Ron. Whenever he could get a signal, he'd be on his SATCON Icom IC speaking to... who knew. That told me the mission was in danger of being scrubbed. We'd been in altitude a week longer than scheduled and I sensed the doctor's and the guide's concerns. It was day twenty-seven and we still had to get to 8500, place the devices, and return safely down the mountain.

That night in our shelter, I decided to address our situation with Ron.

"Who have you been talking to, baby?" I tried that approach but could immediately see that seductive words and tones were not going to be useful. Ron was wound tight as a drum.

"We're going to place the atmospheric devices tomorrow, Marley," he announced.

"But we're not anywhere near target altitude," I reminded. "They aren't going to work. We'll only get faulty data."

He looked away, back at me briefly, and away again, as if he knew something he wasn't prepared to share. I didn't want to stress him out further so I changed the subject.

"I'm starting to get really worried," I told him. His face swung around in my direction, thinking we were still on topic. I waved my hand, belaying his concern.

"I'm talking about my husband," I clarified. "I'm putting some things together in my head, and I'm wondering if he isn't responsible, at least partly, for our delay."

That seemed to interest him enough to sit down next to me. "What do you mean, responsible?" he asked.

"I don't know for sure," I admitted. "His behavior was so different before I left. It was so unlike him." Then I told Ron I thought Dan may have had something to do with my itchiness and hives.

"He's a chemist," I provided, "and a damned good one. I see the doubt in your eyes but he could make a pretty large bomb with the stuff he found in your kitchen and garage."

"That's crazy," he retorted. "If he knew about us wouldn't he just confront you before you left?"

"I didn't want to say anything but he's suspicious. He asked me directly about fucking you, and others while we are away but I never responded. He kept it up because I had ignored him, something we agreed never to do." I responded. "He's different. If I didn't know better, I'd think he might be having an affair."

"You don't know better," he reminded me. "He doesn't know about us, he's just spit-balling. Chemist or no, I don't think he's capable of such subterfuge"

We were both quiet for a few minutes, lost in our thoughts.

"Ron," I asked, "why are we deploying the sensors tomorrow if we both know they won't work?" Ron gave me a first-time look as if he had to tell me something that should not be shared between us.

"We already have the data," he said, quietly. "We have all we need."

How... that's not possible," I confusedly stated. "Then why this climb? What aren't you telling me?"

"You shouldn't know this," he looked forlorn. "You have to promise me you'll never speak it or share it, not even to anyone close, especially Dan. Can you do that?"