My Husband and His Doll

My husband, Calvin Ziegler, had recently acquired an odd fetish.

Three months ago, he brought home a silicone doll. It was a life-sized thing with chestnut-colored curls, full pink lips, and a face that could have belonged to a femme fatale.

He told me the doll was a prize from a company team-building raffle. Supposedly, it was made for stress relief.

"It's all the rage these days for those who are overwhelmed by stress," he said. "You hug it while sleeping for decompression."

I'd been scrolling through my phone on the couch when Calvin told me this and gave the doll a cursory glance.

The workmanship was admittedly lifelike. Even its skin was warm to the touch, like a human's. But there was something about the doll's smile that unsettled me.

"Whatever. Just don't leave it on the bed," was all I said.

Calvin grinned and left the doll on the chaise lounge in the living room. He even draped a blanket over her.

The doll had stayed with us ever since. She was there when we left for work in the morning and returned in the evening. Only, her position changed. Some days, I'd find her lying on the couch. Other days, she'd be stretched out on the lounge chair on the balcony.

Twice, I'd gotten up in the middle of the night for a drink and caught her standing at the bedroom doorway, like a haunting silhouette.

I asked Calvin if he'd been moving the doll, but he denied it. He just laughed it off and joked that the house might be haunted.

I dropped the subject after that—until last Friday.

I'd worked overtime until eleven that night, and returned home to find Calvin already asleep. I quietly washed up and got into bed.

Just as I was drifting off, I heard a faint sound. It sounded like someone panting, but the noise was restrained.

My eyes snapped open. With the help of the streetlight shining through the gap in the curtains, I saw Calvin with his back turned to me. I noted the rise and fall of his torso.

I thought he was taking care of himself. Disgusted, I turned on my side and tried to go back to sleep. Then noticed something amiss with the noise I heard. The panting didn't sound like it belonged to one person, but two.

The sound was faint and trembling, almost as if it had been squeezed out of a person's throat.

I immediately looked over my shoulder.

The silicone doll was tucked in Calvin's embrace. He'd pressed the doll's face to his chest, one hand cradling the back of her head, while the other roamed over her body.

The doll's mouth was parted slightly. She was panting, just like someone caught in a moment of passion.

My blood ran cold.

A second later, a mechanical voice rang out in my head. Before I could make sense of what was happening, lines of text began to flood my vision, scrolling upward one after another.

"It's happening! Deedee's getting another good round of loving from Calvin tonight!"

"And Laura's lying right next to them, too! It's so thrilling! Calvin's always had a thing for taking risks."

"I bet Dorothy's riding the edge in that doll. Her physical body's probably trembling in the apartment she leased."

"Look at Laura's stupid face! She probably thinks Calvin's just horny and jerking off. LOL!"

"All credit goes to Deedee's acting—innocent sweetheart by day and sexy silicone doll by night. She's playing Laura for a fool!"

"Calvin is in a league of his own, honestly. He's fooling around with his mistress while his wife lies beside him. Talk about bravado."

I stiffened. What did all those comments mean? Who was "Deedee"? Did they mean Dorothy?

Then I remembered—Dorothy Sanders, the new intern at Calvin's company. She came by the house twice. She was slender and soft-spoken. I thought she was a well-behaved young woman.

But what did she have to do with this silicone doll?

More comments poured across my vision.

"Laura's still in the dark. Poor thing. Her husband and his mistress are fooling around right next to her, and she still doesn't know!"

"And Dorothy's coming over for dinner tomorrow! I bet she'll wear Calvin's T-shirt just to get under Laura's skin!"

"Laura's foul temper would have her picking a fight with Dorothy in no time! I say let them brawl!"

"Forget it. Laura's a coward. She kept quiet even when Dorothy sat in Calvin's lap."

I gripped the corner of the blanket, pretending to roll onto my back, facing the ceiling.

Out of the corner of my eyes, I caught sight of the silicone doll's face as she lay in Calvin's arms. One corner of her mouth was tugged upward.

She was smirking.