This was my third date with Vicki. We met at a bar a couple of weeks ago, ended up back in my place and had some really good sex. My sex life after my divorce two years ago has been infrequent and less than spectacular.
There was a note from Vicki on my dining room table the next morning, thanking me for a good time and hoping we can get together again this Friday. I was on the fence, she was pretty, well educated, but there was always some male centric idea about girls who put out that easily.
On Wednesday, she sent me a text telling me what bar she was going to on Friday with her girlfriends and hoped to see me there. I don't remember giving her my cell number. But on Friday, I ended up at that bar with Vicki and her girlfriends, we drank, we danced and we ended up back at my place and fucked our brains out.
There was another note from Vicki on my dining room table the next morning, telling me I was amazing the night before, just as amazing as the prior weekend. She also wrote that I had to buy her dinner if I wanted to fuck her again.
So, we're sitting at the restaurant chatting as we look over the menu and Vicki gets a serious look on her face:
"What happened to your first marriage Jack?"
Not something I enjoyed reliving, "Such a cliché, came home early from a business trip in time to see a strange car pulling out of my driveway. As I entered my house, my wife came down the stairs naked, asking what I forgot. There was cum dripping down her leg and an 'oh shit' look on her face. She ran back upstairs and came back dressed, with a bunch of clothes in an overnight bag and walked out the door. She came back while I was at work the next day and took the rest of her shit, I never saw her again and she didn't contest the divorce I filed."
"No explanation or apologies?"
"None, we had a discussion before we got married that any infidelity was a one and done event."
"What about you Vicki?"
I asked that question of every divorced woman I dated, the most common answer was the husband cheated followed by physical or verbal abuse. One woman told me her husband revealed he was gay but wanted her to stay with him to be his beard. It was never the woman's fault.
Vicki stared at me for a long time, after all she started this conversation. The waitress was putting our food on the table when she said, "I cheated on him."
I know I had a surprised look on my face.
"Not what you expected," she said. "Let me explain before you walk away and leave me with the bill. Marrying my husband was the biggest mistake of my life followed by cheating on him. Joe was a nice guy who I met in my freshman year in college. He loved me way more than I loved him, if I loved him at all. He was too nice to be mean to, looking at me with hope and those big brown eyes every time he asked me out. It was hard to say no to him which was what I should have done when things first started, especially when I realized there was a big difference between love and like."
"And that's how things progressed through our senior year. I still dated and had sex with other guys and I made sure Joe knew about it, hoping it would dissuade his interest in me. But that backfired, it only made him try harder."
"In the middle of our senior year, Joe started hinting about marriage. For the first time I was blunt with him, told him he was a nice guy and I liked him but I didn't love him. He left crying. I felt horrible but relieved."
"Joe was back a couple of days later, asking me to go out with him on Friday. I told him I already had a date for Friday so he asked what about Saturday. I couldn't say no, and I kicked myself because I was almost free of him. That pattern repeated the rest of the year, most times I didn't have another date and just told Joe that. And he would keep asking about other days and I would relent."
"There was a month left in school the first time Joe proposed to me. We were in my dorm and he dropped down to one knee. I gave him the same speech that I liked him but I didn't love him and I didn't want to get married until I was thirty. That didn't stop him, three more times he asked me and I found myself saying yes with Joe on his knee in fancy restaurant with all the other diners watching us."
"Married life was worse, Joe smothered me constantly. At least when we lived apart I had a chance to breathe and I dated other men until a week before the wedding. Joe knew but didn't say anything. We weren't married a year before I asked Joe for a divorce. He refused and said he would never divorce me, I was his forever. Three more times over the next year I asked for a divorce and he refused. His family was rich and he said he would bury me in debt with his divorce lawyers."
"Joe came home from work the exact same time every day. I arranged to have one of my college lovers in bed with me when Joe came home. The devastation on his face killed me but I could not figure out any other way to get him to let me leave. I was served with divorce papers a week later."
There was a lot in what she said and I was trying to unpack it. Our food had arrived, I was trying to eat, Vicki was pushing her food around her plate.
"I'm sorry, this was a mistake." She grabbed her purse, threw a fifty on the table and walked out.
I flagged down the waitress, gave her two fifties and ran after Vicki. She was just stepping into an uber as I caught up with her and climbed into the car with her.
