We Don't Have to Do This
This short little story is written in an unusual format with nearly all dialog and primarily in reverse chronological order. I appreciate any comments as to the story and the format.
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We don't have to do this,
We don't have to say good-bye.
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"Mr. and Mrs. Wilson, I believe our session of mediation has been successful," said Judge Howe via Zoom to the two clients who were located in separate rooms with their attorneys. "I will write up a document outlining your agreement and bring it to you in about an hour. Feel free to get up, stretch your legs and grab a beverage."
"Uh, Sir, uh, Your Honor, would it be OK if I were to visit with my wife now that the agreement has been made?"
"Mr. Wilson, please, no need to call me 'Your Honor' since I'm now retired and doing mediation part-time to help folks like you. As to visiting your wife, that's up to your attorneys and to her."
"Thank you." With a questioning look, he turned to his attorney Mr. Dewey who immediately muted the microphone.
"Sure, if you want to spend time with her, that's fine, but don't try to change anything in this agreement. And don't get in a fight! Howe won't like it!"
"No, I won't. I'd like to spend a few minutes with her, though," Brad said.
"Mr. Cheatham," asked Dewey on the unmuted screen, "Is your client willing to meet with mine?"
After a few seconds of watching his wife and her attorney speak to each other on their muted screen, Mr. Cheatham turned off the mute and answered, "That would be fine. I assume your client knows not to discuss this agreement at all and to keep things civil."
"He understands. Look, since this is my office and it's late, they can use my conference room right across the hall from you. I'll send Mr. Wilson over there."
"Thank you."
The door was partway open when Brad arrived at the conference room. He eased it open in time to see his beautiful, soon-to-be ex-wife Suzanne staring out of the windows at the city below. He cleared his throat. "Uh, Hi."
"Hello to you. What'd you want to talk about?"
"Honestly, I wanted to know how you're doing."
"Do you really care?"
"Actually, I do. A lot. We have a long history together and I still care about you."
"Hmm. Well, since you ask, I'm OK," she said using little rabbit ears, "All things considered. You?"
"Numb. I feel numb."
"You're not pissed, anymore?"
"Ah, nope. Not pissed. Just numb. Also, I'm sad."
"Sad?" she exclaimed with a bit of disbelief in her voice.
"Yeah, sad. Sad we have ended up this way. Not what I expected in my life, especially after we first met and got married."
"Yeah, me neither, but it is what it is."
"What happened, Suze, what happened, actually?"
"Are you serious? You want to rehash the whole thing? All the arguments?"
"No! No, the arguments were a symptom of something deeper. I wonder what that something was."
"I don't think I need to remind you of that June party..."
"I know, I know I fucked up at the party. But there was something bigger going on long before then. What do you think it was?"
"Do they have any booze in here?" she asked with a chuckle in her voice.
"Lemme check. Oh, look, here's a cabinet with some nice scotch and a fridge with chilled half-bottles of wine."
"Grab a scotch and I'll open the wine."
"You sure we should?"
"With what they've charged me and no doubt you, they can afford it," she laughed.
After they had poured their drinks and silently toasted each other, she looked at her husband with a sober face and said, "I don't know. I honestly don't know what happened."
"Things were going so well and then it all fell apart."
"I, uh, I kinda think a lot of it was simple, god-awful stress. You were working hard trying to make a decent living, pulling long hours, I was trying to work my parttime art job and take care of the kids and keep the house going. Maybe it was all too much."
"Covid didn't help, did it?"
"No, God no! Suddenly we were stuck in the same house for days on end and we never had time to relax. The kids were cranky and still needed to be taught which added even more to my plate and even to yours. And they were constantly bugging both of us when we tried to work but I don't blame them at all; it was tough on them as well. Trying to work remotely without killing each other was hard enough as it was without all the other baggage."
"And you missed your spa days with the girls."
"And you your fishing trips with Ben and Hal. Maybe we both needed time to get away from each other even for a few hours, to decompress. And we couldn't..."
"Not stuck in a quarantine, we couldn't. Then my getting laid off. Shit piled on top of more shit and it seemed we couldn't get past it."
"Yeah, and even though you got a new job, once my anger hardened, well, I guess it was pretty much over by that time."
"Yeah, I guess it was," he paused waiting for a response and not getting one, he went on, "Say, can you remember when was the last time we, you and I, really had fun? You know, total fun, total relaxation without the kids?"
"That's easy. The week at the cabin. When was it? Eighteen? Seventeen?"
"Twenty nineteen, actually. It was a great week, well, six days, I guess."
"I'll never be able to thank your folks enough for coming down and insisting we leave the kids with them and go to the cabin," she said.
"Yeah, it was a great offer. Remember the third, or was it the second night?"
"How could I forget it? We were relaxed, had been lazy all day and after dinner and a second glass of wine you, well you had your way with me. I've always wondered where that came from, anyway."
"I don't know. I guess you looked so sexy in a shy, almost embarrassed way and I decided to take over."
"You
threw
me on the bed like a sack of potatoes! And then you ripped my clothes off. That bra was expensive, dammit."
"Would you trade that night for a bra?" he laughed.
"Well, no. But still..."
"I don't remember the bra, quite frankly. I just remember when you looked at me with a tiny bit of fear in your eyes before I headed down south."
"Yeah, and that night your tongue was amaaazing! I could feel every little bump on your tongue as it slowly slid over my supersensitive clit. You didn't rush it and each lick seemed to last foreeever! You did everything in your power to give me pleasure 'n' I don't think I've ever come so hard and so often as I did that night."
"God, it was so fun, no, it was so exciting to watch you out of control. I loved watching the little splotchy rash you get right before you came. I could tease you and watch it spread, ease off and it would recede only to spread again as I went to town. Fascinating!"
"You should have been on my side. It was so good as to be almost,
almost,
mind you, painful. I only hope I was able to return the favor a little."
"Suze, that blow job was the most phenomenal one ever imaginable and when you slid your finger in the backdoor, oh shit, I thought I'd died and gone to heaven."
"Yeah," she giggled before going on, "I had recently read in Cosmo guys like getting their prostates rubbed and I thought I'd try it."
"I guess it was the rubbing, the taboo nature of it all and, of course, your tongue. It took me a long time to come back to earth after that."
"And that night led to the next three phenomenal nights. We were sex maniacs, weren't we?"
"Yeah. I never thought I'd take you with you bent over the kitchen counter with me being so much taller than you."
"Yeah, but once you dropped me on the counter and my feet were hanging off the floor, well I guess I was at the right height. And kinda helpless, too."