Add It Up

"I need to tell you this, Patrick," she told me. "It's important for you to understand."

"No, Alicia, it's not important at all," I told her.

I'm Patrick and Alicia was my wife of sixteen years. They were over now, and so was our marriage.

"Why won't you listen to me?" She was on the verge of tears. A month ago, this would have concerned me and I would have attempted to console her. Her days of consolation from me were over. Ever since I discovered her affair with George Battey, I really wasn't at all interested in anything she had to say.

"I need to explain why this happened," she said. "If you'd just listen to me, we could get past this and we'd be okay."

"You're wrong," I said. "Do you imagine that I care why? I'd expect to hear some litany of excuses that I really don't care to hear. Listen to me carefully, Alicia, I don't care. I don't care about when, where, why or how. It doesn't matter. Did he rape you? Did he give you drugs? Were you drunk and passed out? If you were, you should have told me. Other than that, I don't give a damn. I don't give a damn. I don't give a damn. Do you want me to say it again?"

"Why?" she asked. The tears were now flowing down her cheeks. "If you could just listen to me, I could explain to you what happened, and why, and you wouldn't need to leave."

"Were you raped or coerced in any way?" I asked her.

"No, but..." I cut her off.

"No? Okay then, tell it to your pastor or counselor or someone. I won't listen to a lot of self-justifying bullshit."

"We've been married for sixteen years," she said. "I've been a very good wife. Don't you think you could spare one hour, in honor of those sixteen good years?"

I sighed. "Okay, Alicia, I'll let you do your thing. Mentioning honoring something isn't a very good way to appeal to me. I'm not the one that didn't honor our marriage. I think that would be you. You have no honor; don't speak to me about honor."

She just sobbed. We moved to the living room and she sat on the sofa, indicating that I should sit beside her. The idea nauseated me, so I sat in my recliner. She looked hurt, but I didn't give a damn.

"Patrick, I need to tell you why I got involved with George," she said.

"I know why," I said.

Her mouth fell open. This wasn't going quite the way she had planned. "Why?" she said.

"You're a slut," I told her. She wailed at my rudeness, but I pressed on. "You're selfish, arrogant, delusional and you think the world revolves around you and what you want."

"No, it isn't like that at all," she protested. "Listen to me, Patrick. I love you with all my heart. This was just something that I needed to do. You know that I had never been with another man. For my own peace of mind, to fulfill myself, I needed this. When it played out, I ended it and I discovered things about myself that are going to make our life so much better now. I'm secure and complete, and I know now that I love you and need to be with you. I always loved you, but I needed to be sure I had made the right choices, that we were meant to be together."

"As I said, selfish and delusional," I told her. "Did you consider my peace of mind? Did you think of the peace of mind of Bailey or Canton? What about the peace of mind of your two children? If you imagine that you are now fulfilled, do you have some fantasy that I am? I've discovered some things about you, too. They are going to make it so much worse now. I am now insecure and incomplete, and I know now that I can't tolerate the sight of you and can never be with you because I despise you."

She was rocked. "But Patrick, if you loved me as much as I love you, you would want me to be fulfilled, you would be willing to make sacrifices for my happiness. How can you think your needs should come before mine? I'm not something you own. I have the freedom to make my own choices that I need to make me complete as a person."

"Why is it that cheating sluts always come up with bullshit like this?" I asked her. "Why isn't the reverse of all those statements true? Why wouldn't you make sacrifices for my happiness if you, as you claim, loved me? I don't believe you for a second. You love yourself, Alicia, and no one else. Why should your needs come before mine? You're right; I don't own you. Thank God for that! I'd be having a yard sale tomorrow, trying to unload you on some other poor bastard. That's what I'm giving you, freedom. You can now make whatever choices you please. Maybe you can become 'complete as a person'."

"Why are you being so cruel?" she wept. "You're hurting me, Patrick."

"I'm meeting you on your ground," I told her. "I don't give a damn about hurting you. I'm happy that you know what it feels like. You've been hurting everyone around you; now you're bitching about someone hurting you. You're pathetic, Alicia."

She buried her face in her hands and sobbed. "What are you going to do?" she asked.

"Well, I've thought a lot about that," I told her. "You know the house the Jacksons lived in down the street? I've talked to the real estate company. They talked to the Jacksons and they're willing to allow me to lease it with the option to buy."

"Why?" she sobbed. "Why can't you stay here? We can't work on our marriage if you're living somewhere else!"

"Exactly," I said. "I have absolutely no desire to work on anything with you. The only things WE are going to work on are the divorce settlement and how to reduce the damage that's going to be done to our girls to a minimum."

"They won't be damaged at all if you don't leave," she said.

"Yes, they will," I insisted. "They will be damaged by the way their father treats their mother. I won't be able to keep the sneer off my face, the anger out of my voice and the contempt out of my eyes. Do you think they won't see that? They're smart girls. They'll ask me why I'm treating you that way and I'll tell them. I'll explain to them that their mother's a cheating slut. Do you think that will damage them?"

"How can you say those things to me?" she asked.

"Because they're true," I said. "Also, I don't give a damn."

"No, they're not true," she said. "I've been with two men in my entire life. All I needed was for you to be patient and loving. I needed you to understand that I had to find myself. You weren't a virgin when we got married. You had the chance to have relationships with other women. I never had that. How can you be so selfish?"

"You wanted relationships with other women?" I pretended to be astonished. "I never knew you rolled like that, Alicia."

She looked confused. "No, that's not what I meant," she finally figured out what she had said. "You had relationships with other women. I needed to experience what relationships with other men were like."

"Okay, I get that. Now you're free to do just that," I said. "After we're divorced, you can do whatever the hell you want."

"How can you divorce me when I'm just doing what you did?" she said. "You slept with other women!"

"That was before I met you, and I'm very ashamed about what I did," I told her. "I wish I hadn't. I was young and stupid and I thought I was in love with the three women with whom I had long-term relationships. Don't give me this shit about you 'not having relationships.' You had the same opportunities I had. You didn't take advantage of them, and you were a better stronger person than I was. I always respected you for that. If you were going to have relationships with other people, that was the time to do it. You were free to do whatever you wanted and no one would have cared or gotten hurt in the slightest. When you decided to marry me, that time ended, just as it did for me."

"How is that fair?" she asked. "You had all those experiences."

"Have I had any 'experiences' since I've been married to you?" I asked.

"No," she said, "but you had them before we got married."

"Exactly," I told her. "When we got married, we made the decision that we weren't going to have any more of those 'experiences.' That's what being married means. We chose this experience. If you wanted to experience sex with other people, you shouldn't have married me."

"But I didn't know," she objected. "I didn't know I would have these feelings. I have them, now, and I know I just want to be with you."

"Well, I now have the feeling I don't want to be with you," I said. "No, it's not a feeling, it's a certainty. The thought of being with you makes me puke a little."

She gave a little wail of dismay, but I'd had enough. "Okay, you told me all the shit. Now, I don't want to hear any more about 'why' and how we can 'get by it.' We're through, Alicia. We still have our daughters to think about and I'll still be here until I can get another place. Just stay the hell away from me and everything will go smoothly."

That was a pipedream, of course. The first people she enlisted in her campaign of attrition were her sister and brother-in-law. It seems cheating ran in the family.

They came over and regaled me with the story of Harry's infidelity, and how Marsha loved him enough to get by it, forgive him, and their life was now perfect.

"You cheated on Marsha?" I asked Harry. "Who was she and why did you stop sleeping with her, or are you still boning her on the side?"

"It isn't important who she was. It's over now and Marsha has forgiven me," insisted Harry. "She realizes how much I love her and how anyone can make a mistake. You should love Alicia enough to overlook her one fall from grace."

"You're telling me Marsha was okay with you fucking Nancy Wilkerson while she was pregnant with little Harry, or she's at least forgiven you?" I asked.

"It was Brenda Lane, not Nancy," insisted Marsha as she glared at Harry. "It only happened one time and Harry felt awful immediately afterward and it was six months after Jr. was born."

"You're telling me Harry came home after banging Brenda's brains out and immediately confessed? He asked for your forgiveness and you gave it to him? Did you forgive him for porking Nancy during your pregnancy, too?"

"Harry didn't fuck Nancy Wilkerson! It was one time with Brenda Lane," repeated Marsha.

"Did Harry ever say why he climbed into bed with Brenda Lane? She's north of two hundred pounds and ten years older than him," I pointed out. "Why do you prefer believing Harry had a piece of Brenda's ass rather than Nancy Wilkerson's?"

"I know it was Brenda. I caught him in the saddle when I came home early one day," admitted Marsha. "They both said it was the first time for them. Harry swore he'd never do it again."

"You're kidding, right? You came home early and caught Harry bumping bellies with Brenda. They told you it was the only time they ever did it, they'd never do it again, and you believed them?" I stated in disbelief.

"Yes, I believe Harry. He's never lied to me," declared Marsha.

"He's never lied to you?" I repeated in wonder. "Banging Brenda in your marital bed sounds like he planned on lying, at least by omission. Did you ever ask him if he fucked Nancy Wilkerson? Maybe you aren't asking the right questions."

"We're here to help your marriage," insisted a red-faced Harry. "Let's keep the focus on the issue here. Alicia has been sleeping with George Battey and she regrets hurting you. You can be a better man and forgive her."

"We're discussing infidelity and how a person is able to forgive a cheating spouse," I corrected. "You and Marsha are using your marriage and by extension, your affairs, to demonstrate how lying and cheating are acceptable in marriage.

"Marsha, have you ever cheated on Harry?" I asked my sister-in-law.

"Absolutely not!" responded a very offended Marsha.

"Would you consider giving Bill Barnes a blowjob cheating?" I questioned. "If, hypothetically speaking, you sucked his cock, or someone else's, at a neighborhood party, would that constitute cheating?"

"Yes, it would, but I never blew Bill, or anyone else, at a party," stated Marsha quickly.

"I see. If you had somehow slipped, dropped to your knees and somehow found Bill's stiffy in your mouth, you wouldn't suck him to completion? You'd tell Harry about your silly accident as soon as possible? Is that correct?"

"I had too much to drink! Bill kept pushing it in my face. I thought I'd placate him until I could get my bearings. I never dreamed he'd have such a quick trigger," insisted Marsha sheepishly.

Harry was glaring at Marsha and acting agitated by this point, but I wasn't done with my questions.

"You weren't on your knees because you had just finished polishing Ben Carter's knob, by any chance? Bill didn't stick little Bill in your face as soon as Ben pulled out?" I persisted.

"I had too many margaritas," repeated Marsha. "They took advantage of me."

"I can see how that would happen," I admitted. "How about you, Harry? You can see how Marsha could find herself sucking off two of your neighbors at a party, can't you? There's no reason to be upset, is there?"

"Marsha forgave me, so I'd be the worst sort of hypocrite if I didn't grant her the same forgiveness," declared my obviously dejected brother-in-law.

"Does Marsha give you a lot of blowjobs?" I asked the sulking Harry.

"Not all that often," admitted Harry. "Maybe I can get in line at the next party."

"Harry! Don't talk about me like I'm some kind of slut," demanded Marsha. "It only happened that one time at the July Fourth party at Hudson's."

"Wait! I never went to Hudson's party," I replied. "I recall taking Alicia and the kids to the beach then. I was referring to the Labor Day cookout at Carter's lake cabin. It sounds like margaritas make you weak in the knees."

"Oral sex isn't really cheating," reasoned Marsha. "When I drink too much, I get the urge to be a little naughty. I wind up sucking a few cocks. It's no big deal. I forgave Harry and he forgave me. We're in a committed, loving relationship."

"I would call it very loving. You love sucking cock. Harry loves banging older fat chicks," I summarized.

"I fucked the hell out of Nancy Wilkerson the last five months of your pregnancy!" blurted an irate Harry to his wife. "She does a lot more than lie there like a dead fish."

"You miserable shit!" yelled Marsha. "I sucked off Pete Johnson's Johnson at the last three parties. His cock is almost twice as big as yours and he recovers fast enough to give me a second load before the party's over!"

"You both must feel a lot better now," I surmised with a grin. "All this forgiveness seems to be very liberating. You two have varied and robust sex lives. Marsha, can I fix you a margarita or two before you leave?"

"You prick," snarled Harry. "Marsha will not be sucking your cock! In fact, I should go jump Alicia since you can't keep her happy."

"Did you just offer to fuck my sister?" asked a livid Marsha. "She told me George Battey has a big cock and knows how to use it. That would suggest your little wiener wouldn't satisfy her any better than Patrick's dicklette."

I watched the two of them shout and argue with each other as they went down my sidewalk. Harry burned his tires as peeled out of my driveway. Alicia returned home from her mother's place half an hour later.

"How did it go with Marsha and Harry?" asked Alicia with a big smile as she came into the living room. "Did they open your eyes at least a little?"

"Oh, yes, they revealed several things I hadn't previously known," I said. "Say, did you know Harry has a thing for plus-sized women? It's something to keep in mind. He might be on the market before too long. You might want to pack on a few pounds, for after we're divorced."

She goggled at me with her mouth open. It wasn't that good a look for her. My estimation of her IQ took another hit. She managed to gather her wits. "What did you do?" she asked.

"What the hell does that mean? You got them here. If anything happened, that's your responsibility," I said.

"Didn't they tell you about Harry's... indiscretion, how Marsha forgave him?" she asked.

"Well, yes, but it turned out that their indiscretions weren't all that discrete, or discreet," I said. "They seemed to sort of run together and involve more people than the other knew."

She yammered on for a while, but I had stopped paying attention. I was planning an excursion with the girls. They had a volleyball tournament on Saturday morning, and I was planning to take them to the lake, afterward, rent a pontoon boat and spend the afternoon at the lake. I knew Alicia had used the guise of a hair appointment to get out of going to the volleyball tournament so she could meet that asshole, Battey.

That would suit me perfectly. I noticed that Alicia was getting loud. "Did you hear what I said?" she practically yelled.

"I'm not hearing-impaired," I informed her.

"Well? What do you have to say?" she asked.

"About what?"

"See, you weren't listening," she fumed.

"You say so many things, and they're such bullshit that I have trouble keeping track," I explained.

That set off another tirade, which I tuned out, as well.

I knew that at some point, she was going to try to get Bailey and Canton involved. I wasn't looking forward to that, but I knew it was coming. The next evening when I went to Bailey's room to talk to her about Saturday, Canton was there and they were very upset.

They pulled me over to the bed and sat me between them. My girls are my heart. No matter how miserable I was, no matter that my marriage had gone to shit, I would never regret a minute because there were these two blonde angels that I loved with all my heart, and that made me the king of the world.

They were little 14-year-old beauties who were becoming stunning women. They were all long brown legs and coltish awkwardness, now, but they were going to break hearts in a few years.

"Dad, Mom said that you are going to divorce her and leave us," Canton began. They dissolved in a flurry of tears and I squeezed their little forms up against me.

"No, there's one part she got wrong," I said. "Look at me, girls." I lifted tear-streaked faces and looked into their eyes. "I'm never, ever, leaving either of you. I would rather die. I am divorcing your mother. I know you don't understand, but what she's done, I can't live with that. Bailey, I know you have a boyfriend. Tell me how you'd feel if you found out he had another girlfriend he kept hidden from you, you caught him out on a date with her and they were making out."

Their eyes went wide. "Is that what Mom did?" Canton asked.

"She has a boyfriend?" Bailey gasped.

"She does, or at least she did," I said. "I'm sorry, girls, but I won't live with that. Here's the thing: you know where Jim Jackson used to live?"

"Yeah, around the corner on Pine," Bailey said. "What about it. They moved. Was he Mom's boyfriend?"

"No, no, nothing like that," I assured them. "At least, not that I know anything about. I'm going to buy that house. I'll be living there; you can just walk down the street and visit me anytime. If I get custody of you, which I'm going to try to do, you can walk here to visit your Mom. I'm NOT leaving you. Ever, do you understand?"

"Can't you..." Bailey started, but her voice trailed off. "No, Dad, I guess I understand. If James did that to me..."

We talked and I held them for a long time. They were very unhappy girls, but they seemed to understand, and I wasn't the one who made them unhappy. All that was on Alicia.

Of course, Alicia didn't see it that way. "How could you tell our daughters those things?" She was on a roll.

"What things?" I enquired.

"You know what things! You told them I had a boyfriend. They told me they were going to live with you, and Canton told me she hates me!"

"A girl after my own heart," I said. "I kind of hate you, myself. Did I lie to them?"

"Yes, I don't HAVE a boyfriend; I HAD a boyfriend. I told you it was over."