A cheating wife drives a man to extremes

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Alex smiled sadly. “You’re probably right, but I’ve been hurt already, so I figured, ‘what difference would one more time make?'”

I took a bite of my sandwich to give me time to think. I was beginning to realize just how badly this man had been wounded, and just how much he relied on the nominal protection of his costume.

I decided to change the topic. “I was impressed by the way you were able to talk to all those people so easily. You should run for political office.”

“No,” he said immediately, “I wouldn’t have any interest in that. I’m just learning to enjoy being with people.”

I shook my head. “How many of those people in the bar did you know?” I asked curiously.

He smiled. “None of them. The only guy I recognized was the bartender.”

That was hard for me to believe. “How did you learn to make conversation so easily with strangers?”

He shook his head. “It’s funny, Elle. All my life I’ve been shy around people. Back in school I hung around with a crowd because I wasn’t confident being on my own. In the group I could just react to what everyone else was saying.”

His face lost the trace of smile around the corners of his mouth. “It got a lot worse after Glenda left. I didn’t want to see or be with anyone, I just wanted to dig a hole and crawl into it. But after I started wearing my Superman suit, it got a lot easier for me to go out by myself, meet new people and talk to them. I’d just think about how Superman would handle things and try to act the same way.”

The image of Alex as shy and hesitant just didn’t fit with the extrovert I’d witnessed only minutes before, so I pressed him on the topic. “Maybe the suit helped you come out of your shell,” I said, “but that doesn’t explain how you learned to talk with people like that.”

“It’s nothing special,” he said. “I really like people — it’s just that I’ve never felt comfortable around them. Now I do, and I want to know what they think and how they feel. I’m having a good time, and I want them to have one too.”

I didn’t respond, but all I could thinks was, “There’s a lot more to this guy than I thought.”

At that moment a woman came into the diner, and that made me think again about the confrontation with the predatory blonde. I asked Alex about the incident. “Does that kind of thing happen often?” I wanted to know.

He was clearly embarrassed. “Yeah,” he admitted, “it’s happened a few times.”

“Did you go home with any of them?” I demanded.

He wouldn’t look at me. “A couple of times, maybe.”

“Well, how was it?” I demanded before I could close my mouth. What was I thinking asking a question like that?

But before I could backtrack, he was already answering. “The first time, I hadn’t been with a woman since Glenda left, and I guess I was pretty, um . . . eager.” He gave a little laugh. “Afterwards, she accused me of being faster than a speeding bullet.”

“But it got better after that,” he went on guilelessly. “I just kept reminding myself about the kind of control that Superman would have had, and the ladies liked me better. But pretty soon I got to the point where hooking up didn’t seem that attractive to me.” He looked at me with pain in his eyes. “I guess I’m sort of old fashioned that way. All I really ever wanted was one woman, if she was the right one. I thought Glenda was, but I found out different.”

He suddenly glanced up at the clock over the counter. “Do you need to get home?” he asked considerately, and when I looked at the time I was shocked at how late it had gotten.

He walked me out to the curb and flagged down a cab for me. I guess having a cape blowing in the wind comes in handy sometimes. As the cabbie gawked at him, Alex opened the door and helped me inside. “Thank you, Elle,” he said. “I know this was just for your article, but I really enjoyed being with you tonight.” Then he closed the door, and as the cab pulled away I looked back to see him standing there on the curb.

The cabbie turned around to look at me. “Who was that guy?” he asked curiously.

“I’m still not sure I know,” I said.

Terri was waiting up for me when I got home, and she wanted to know all about my evening. After I finished recounting the night’s adventures, she asked what I thought about Alex. When I talked about how badly he’d been hurt, she looked at me closely. “He may have had a hard time over his ex-wife, but he’s not a lost kitten, Elle. You don’t need to give him shelter and a bowl of milk, you know.”

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