Angelic Empath

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Author's Note:

If you are open-minded and want to read this story without knowing anything in advance (recommended) then you can skip this note.

However, there are those that stop reading when a story doesn't fit their view of how the world should be. They complain their time has been wasted.

The first few pages of this story set up the characters and scene. The story then unfolds gradually. If you are one of those people please, check the story tags before continuing.

If you decide that this story probably won't offend you, then read on. I hope you enjoy it.

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It was an April morning, a Monday, about an hour after dawn, a clear blue sky yet a distinct chill in the air. Martin Wilson was setting off on his daily dog walk. He'd started that daily routine as much for himself as for his giant schnauzer, Gunther. He felt the need to keep himself active in retirement. When he was working he hired a dog walker, but since retirement he enjoys getting out in all weather.

Martin is tall and powerfully built, with broad shoulders and powerful arms and legs. All his parts are in working order, and he's reasonably fit. He can tell that one knee is gradually wearing out and somewhere down the line will need replacing. For now, it's holding up. The root cause for that knee was a motorcycle accident as a teenager, he still rides, a V-Twin 1800cc cruiser.

Formerly head of IT in the UK subsidiary of a global multi-billion Euro company, he allowed himself to burn out. He freely admits that he worked too hard for too long. This was largely due to GDPR, Brexit, and then Covid-19 in quick succession. All eyes were on him for solutions. He retired a year ago.

Now he's just an ordinary IT user. He no longer keeps up with the latest developments, trends, and technologies in IT. All that is behind him and as far as he's concerned good riddance. Whatever he needs to know is picked up as and when he needs it or, he just hears it in the news like everyone else. He doesn't much care about the specification of his laptop, provided it works. He only uses it for web browsing, email and watching Netflix on his boat.

Patience is a strong characteristic. He has always persevered if a task gets tough, long after others would have given up. It was a key factor in the advancement of his career.

That patience also includes relationships, whether that be friendships, or affairs of the heart. When problems arise, as they nearly always do, he does not walk away easily. He'll try everything in his power to salvage what was once good. However, if he comes to the conclusion it is futile, he will walk away, without looking back. None of his exes are included amongst his friends, but he's always amicable if their paths should cross.

He takes after his mother's side of the family in looks. Photographs of his mother, when she was young, remind him of Sophia Loren. As a teenager in the 70s, his soulful brown eyes and his black curly hair, prompted more than one girlfriend to say he looked like Frankie Valli. (Except he's a 6´3 version.)

His hair went grey early, it was salt & pepper by his late thirties; silver fox by his late forties. Now he's sixty-five and feeling smug that he'll be sixty-six and collecting his state pension in a few months. He feels he's beaten the system. His father did not, he died aged sixty-three.

All the women in his life thought him handsome, he doesn't see himself that way. To him, his nose is too big for a start (and yes, that old adage holds true for him.) A few of those women were stunningly beautiful in the classic sense of the word and some were just beautiful to him.

Society might have called those women "attractive", or even "plain". With him though, attraction is more than just external appearance. It is also how a partner makes him feel, do they make him laugh and smile? Do they make him feel loved and wanted in return?

With his exes also, it wasn't just his looks. It was his kind, calm, easy-going nature, and his ability to make them laugh and feel loved.

Martin's first marriage, to Alison, lasted twenty-four years. The first twenty years were very happy. Unlike a lot of their friends they didn't start a family straight away. They were married for thirteen years before their daughter Rachael was born. Then six years later came another baby, Louise.

Alison changed after Louise was born. He wondered if it was post-natal depression, but Alison maintained it wasn't, she said she was fine.

She started to become very irritable. When he woke up, it was usually to hear her shouting at the children. When he came home from work, it wasn't long before she was yet again haranguing them and him. He couldn't reason with her, not without her becoming defensive and denying there was a problem.

He asked his eldest daughter Rachael, who was eleven at the time, if her mother was always like that. The reply he got was, "No dad, it's just when you're home."

They were married young, she was eighteen, he was twenty-one. He assumed they had just grown apart, that he was no longer who she wanted. He was despairing, he felt she was depressed. Alison refused to let them have marital counselling, she wouldn't talk to the doctor.

After so many times spent pleading with her, he gave up. He divorced her. His hope was that the atmosphere at home would then be peaceful, and happier, with him not around. For a time it was.

Had he known that Alison did have post-natal depression, and that she was an alcoholic. If he'd known that the irritation was withdrawal symptoms, because she couldn't keep topping herself up when he was around; he would never have divorced her. He would have done everything in his power to get help for her, no matter how much she resisted. It is a lasting regret of his that he never recognised the signs, but she hid her drinking so well.

His second marriage to Linda took place four years later. That marriage only lasted two years, a casualty of his first marriage. No affairs were involved with the breakup. His first wife Alison had custody of his two daughters. One year into his marriage to Linda, Alison's alcoholism reached the point where she could no longer function. Her mother had visited Alison to find her passed out, a pool of vomit on her bedroom floor. Rachael was trying to cook a meal for them and Louise was nowhere to be found.

That was when he first knew she was an alcoholic, and he then had no choice but to take the children to live with him and Linda. Linda already had a daughter, Lauren. Lauren was ten years old, the same age as his youngest, Louise. Lauren had never been used to sharing, not toys, nor both his and her mother's attention. Louise and Rachael had shared most things all their lives.

Martin coped with the bickering that ensued and judged disputes fairly. Linda did not. She became exasperated whenever arguments arose and always came down heavily in favour of Lauren. His girls were becoming increasingly miserable living with them.

He voiced his concerns to Linda several times and tried to find a way forward, to no avail. In the end he bought a house for him and his daughters, to take them out of the situation. They were innocent and had to come first.

He tried to explain himself to Linda. He still loved her, but he had to do what was best for his daughters. Divorce was the furthest thing from his mind. He explained that he hoped that, before too long, Alison would get her addiction controlled. To the point where she could look after the girls again. If not, then yes, this would be their life, possibly for the next eight years.

For the next twelve months Martin and Linda had a married-but-living-separately relationship. Alison's sister would look after his daughters every other weekend, to try to help him salvage something from his marriage. The times they were with their aunt were arranged to coincide with the weekends that Sam, Linda's ex, had Lauren.

They also had days out and holidays abroad, all together as a family. Again, it was difficult when disputes arose. It was a huge strain on their relationship and, whilst he was prepared to hang on, Linda wasn't. She tried to divorce him.

The judge ruled that Martin's actions did not constitute unreasonable behaviour. Nor did it constitute desertion, because he had not deserted her. In any case, even if she argued he had, enough time had not elapsed for the desertion rule to apply.

Linda then put forward another divorce petition, one that contained a complete pack of lies regarding him. When he read it he could only come to the conclusion that it was over between them, and for good. He wrote a reply to Linda's solicitor to say he would not contest the divorce, even though the allegations were totally false.

The next three years were extremely difficult for him to manage. Trying to balance his career with being a single parent, he managed to cope, and he coped well. Then a solicitor's letter arrived. The letter explained that Alison had been in rehab voluntarily and now had her addiction sufficiently under control to be able to re-assume parental responsibility. This was followed by an outline of the next steps if Martin refused to allow that.

Martin wrote back to say he had no objection, provided there was some way for him to monitor the situation. An amicable solution was agreed. The girls returned to live with their mother. That was in 2011.

He did wonder if he should let Linda know, that she would have only had to hold out another two years, not seven. He decided that would have been petty, so he didn't do that. His girls were still in touch with Lauren, Linda would find out soon enough from her. She did find out, but she did not reach out to him in any way.

He's now married to Jackie, she's just turned sixty-three. They were initially work colleagues. Before they got together, their relationship for about ten years was just that, workmates. Then Jackie's husband, Mike Howard, left her for Pamela, his PA.

Martin was caring and a good listener during that difficult time for her. After a few months Jackie could feel herself falling for Martin. He saw the signs, he felt the closeness, he too was attracted to Jackie. Especially the Jackie that was coming on to him. His daughters still had to come first, this all happened when they were still living with him.

He explained his situation to Jackie as gently as he could. She understood his situation. His caring attitude to her, and his daughters, only served to increase her level of attraction to him.

When the girls went to back to live with their mum, Martin wasted no time in asking Jackie out. One year later she moved in with him. Having had two failed marriages Martin was in no hurry to enter into another. They had a frank discussion about marriage and finances early in their relationship. Neither of them wanted marriage, at least not then.

The house was Martin's and would remain his sole property. In his will it would be passed to his daughters. If he pre-deceased Jackie she could live there as long as she wished, provided she remained single. There was a generous monetary provision for Jackie in his will.

He was earning a very good salary. Jackie had no need to work, not unless she wanted to work. She took early retirement. A joint account was set up for household expenses, into which Martin contributed the bulk, the utility bills, property maintenance, insurance etc. After all, it remained his house. It was only fair that he should pay for the upkeep. The utility bills he would have had to pay whether Jackie was living there or not.

Jackie had her pension plus investments inherited from her parents. She also had money invested from the sale of her parent's property. She was financially independent, comfortable and had no problem with her name not being on the deeds of Martin's house.

It was Jackie that eventually raised the subject of marriage. It made sense, neither of them were getting any younger and both of their pensions had a provision for a surviving spouse. If they weren't actually married, the surviving partner would get nothing from the other's pension. Martin was happy to wed, provided that their existing financial arrangements were maintained. A prenuptial agreement was signed by both of them.

They both needed to make new wills as marriage negated their existing wills. The new wills were the same as the ones they had before, just dated after their wedding date. They were married two years ago, they had a lovely wedding after nearly ten years living together. Jackie had a massive rock on her finger as a token of Martin's love for her.

Jackie retired a year after moving in with Martin. She took up playing golf. It became her main hobby. She has always played two or three weekdays, and either a Saturday or Sunday most weekends. Martin has never played golf, although he attends various social functions with her at the golf club.

She goes to the gym once or twice a week, mainly classes such as Pilates and Yoga, nothing too strenuous. She used to have a personal trainer at a boxing gym, Jake. He did work her hard. A year ago he emigrated, and then she signed up to a conventional local gym.

Jackie is 5´8 she has brown hair, green eyes and a good complexion. She has some lines on her face and Martin loves the look that gives her, a woman that has done a lot of laughing. She also has nice teeth, despite her long canines that make her look a little like a vampire.

Her fast metabolism means she can eat pretty much anything she chooses, without gaining weight. Having said that, she eats in moderation. She drinks in moderation too, mostly. She rarely gets drunk but when she does, she's a funny drunk.

Her physique is toned, with wide hips, shapely legs and 36C breasts. Martin is very attracted to her, he loves her very much. Unfortunately their relationship is not without problems.

Jackie does not take direction easily. Martin is aware of this and gives explicit instructions only when it is necessary.

Jackie has reversed her car into the gatepost several times. He's tried to explain how to just use one wing mirror. Keep the car eight inches or so away from one gatepost, keep looking at that post, and you just know you are more than a foot away from the other gate post. There's no need to keep checking each mirror. (She generally crunches it when she's switching her attention between mirrors.) Yes, she has parking sensors, but let's not go there. Trying to help her only ended in arguments. Now, Martin just leaves her to it, but the same, "can't be told" attitude manifests itself in other areas.

The physical side of their relationship was very good, fantastic even. For the first couple of years, like most couples, they fucked like rabbits. That frequency gradually tailed off to once or twice a week. Then about eighteen months ago, to once or twice a month. That second tail-off was sudden, not gradual. Prior to that happening both of them would initiate intimacy. After that, he realised it was only ever him. She only relented if he persisted when he became desperate for release. He put it down to the menopause, he wasn't overly concerned.

It is now nearly a year since they've had any intimacy, it just stopped. There are still kisses, but they're not passionate kisses. Martin still hugs her, he puts his arm around her, comes up behind her and kisses her neck. Jackie is accepting, she doesn't shrug him away, but she never does the same to him. The only sign of physical affection that Jackie initiates is holding hands, if they're out walking.

Anything more than those gestures of affection is rejected. Too tired, not in the mood, cystitis, thrush. Always an excuse to avoid it.

The lack of physical intimacy was one of the things on Martin's mind as he started out on the dog walk, closing the gate behind him. The other thing on his mind was the dog walk itself. Fifty yards from the house a footpath crossed the lane. Up until that day he'd always taken the left turn. The left turn led immediately into grassy fields and that circular route remained on grass fields where Gunther could usually run free. Then, a short half-mile stretch of pavement walking for the last leg.

The problem with that route was twofold. It could be very muddy. He didn't mind so much, he just left his muddy walking boots in the porch. If it was muddy Gunther needed hosing down and then the house was filled with the delightful odour of damp dog all morning. The other problem was livestock. If sheep, cows, or horses were in the fields then Gunther had to be on a lead, even though Martin had good voice control over him. The trouble with that was Gunther missed out on running.

The right turn also crossed over grassy fields, for about a mile. Then it led through deciduous woodland on a downhill path for another mile. Gunther would also get muddy that way, but he could always have a good run in the woods. At the bottom of the woodland hill runs a small, unpolluted river with a gravel bottom. Gunther loves water and wades whenever he can, that would wash the mud out of his coat.

The reason he hadn't been taking that route was because after the river it was then a circuitous route, a few miles long, of roads and pavements the rest of the way home. Martin felt Gunther wouldn't get freedom to run for the most part of the walk. On the upside, if it wasn't raining Gunther would be dry by the time they got back. Another upside was the roads led to the bottom of the hill on which they lived, and then there was a steep climb home. That would definitely give Martin enough exercise.

After pondering the pros and cons he decided he would take the woodland route in future. The pavement walking meant it would keep the dog's claws short. Gunther hated having them clipped. Sometimes Martin misjudged the length to trim off then, much yelping, blood, and growling ensued. It would save all that hassle.

After climbing the wooden stile, and scanning for livestock while standing at the top, he jumped down and let Gunther run free. Little did he know the profound effect this minor decision would have on his life.

On entering the woodland he found it carpeted with bluebells. The sight of that shimmering blue carpet, laid out in between the columns of the just-budding trees with their emerald new leaves was breathtaking. It lifted his mood which, had become somewhat gloomy thinking about the conversation he needed to have with Jackie. Fishing his phone out of his pocket he took a photo to show Jackie later. He loved this time of year, it was his favourite.

Gunther was dashing around, nose to the ground in the twigs and leaf litter, trying to pick up the scent of something to chase. Martin was just picking his way down the steep woodland path, avoiding the snaking tree roots trying to trip him.

For dog walking he wore hiking boots and brown cotton shorts, the shorts came to just above his knee. He wore shorts because he hated having wet trousers from the knee down if the grass was long and wet. Having wet legs was fine, he didn't mind that.

If it was cold or raining he wore a brown waxed Joules jacket, otherwise just a tee shirt, perhaps a sweater. On his head he nearly always wore a battered, suede, fedora hat. Good when it was hot and good when it rained. It kept the sun and rain off his face and didn't drip water down his neck when it was raining. He was walking a dog, he didn't care how he looked, he wasn't out to impress anyone. Yet somehow, he managed to do just that.

As expected, on arrival at the river Gunther waded in. The mud clouding the clear water and swirling away from him. When the water was running clear Martin called him out and clipped on his lead. He smiled as the happy dog shook and sprayed him, there was no avoiding that. They crossed the footbridge and then walked alongside the main road towards the small town. At this time of day it was mainly commuter traffic, a little later would come the school run traffic. It was then fairly quiet the rest of the day, until the hordes returned.