An Innocent Question

ELLEN'S STORY

Each time Dan called, I got my hopes up. Maybe he was ready to come home! But each time we had the same brief, matter-of-fact conversation, and then he said goodbye. I didn't know what to do. I was being patient and giving him time, but it didn't seem to be helping.

After three weeks, he finally called and said he was coming home. I was overjoyed! And then immediately terrified. Maybe he wasn't coming back to reconcile, but to talk about a divorce. Or maybe he was hoping that I would say and do the right things to persuade him to stay—and I had no idea what those things were.

When Dan came into the house, I was shocked. He looked terrible, like he had aged 20 years. There were big circles under his eyes, and his shoulders slumped. He looked old and defeated.

I thought I had understood what he was going through, how much pain he was in—but seeing him that way made me realize how much worse it was for Dan than anything I had imagined.

For the first few days I had high hopes that we could gradually find our way back to one another. We weren't kissing, let alone making love—but at least Dan was letting me sleep in his arms in the guest bed. At first, that reassured me so much!

But as time went by it seemed things were getting worse, not better. More tense, with less communication. We could do routine chores together, but our unrestrained pleasure in each other's company was almost totally missing. I didn't know what to do. Dan didn't seem to want to talk about anything serious—and I figured that since he was seeing a therapist, perhaps the best thing for me to do was to be patient and loving, and let him work through his feelings there.

Then one evening, when Dan had called and said he'd have to work until 10pm, the doorbell rang and there was Chris Doebe!

It scared me to death, I have to tell you. My first instinctive reaction was not desire, but terror. I think I must have stuttered, "what are you doing here?" and not in a very welcoming way.

But he just smiled, sweetly, and said, "hi, Ellen. Okay if I come in for a few minutes?"

Numb, truly at a loss, I led him into the kitchen. We sat, and I poured two cups of coffee. We looked at one another.

More to keep Chris at bay than for any other reason, I told him how Emily had given me a heart attack when she came by and told me that Chris had said he enjoyed our lunch together. I made a funny story of it, describing my panic and Emily's innocence, and before long both Chris and I were laughing. That broke the tension, thank God.

Then Chris said, "I've missed you, Ellen. The time we spent together was amazing. I've never experienced anything like it in my life. It is entirely up to you, but I would love to ... be with you again."

He was looking at me in a kind but serious way, not flirting, and I appreciated that.

I just sat, trying hard to examine my own feelings. I knew my heart was beating fast; but my panties weren't damp—that was a change! And while I was still attracted to Chris, the attraction felt quite different, more under control.

Previously, just being around him had rendered me incapable of rational thought. I was all wet pussy and hard nipples, his for the taking. But at that moment, while I still felt the temptation it was balanced by a very rational understanding of the consequences.

It was like standing in a grocery store, staring at some absolutely delicious peaches. I knew I could take one and just bite into it—and the juice would dribble down my chin (!), and the taste would be fantastic. But I also knew that it would be stealing, and it would be wrong, and I might even be arrested.

As I sat there, I understood to my immense relief that I could say no to Chris. And more: that I could do it without dying of the disappointment. The commitment of marriage, like any other commitment, means that sometimes you can't have what you want—from something as trivial as a night out at a restaurant when your spouse is tired and wants to eat at home, to something as cosmic as mesmerizing sex with Chris Doebe.

I'd broken that commitment once, and it grieved me. But sitting there now, looking at Chris' expectant face, I was almost exultant in the certain knowledge that I wouldn't break it again.

So I smiled, looking at Chris, and shook my head.

"I'm sorry, Chris. I would never lie and tell you I'm not incredibly tempted—and you wouldn't believe me anyway! That afternoon was beyond terrific. I always thought that 'rocked my world' was just an expression, until you did it to me that day!" We both laughed, and I went on.

"But as great as it was, it put my marriage to Dan in real jeopardy, and I am scared to death that I might lose him. Having to face that makes me realize how important he is to me—much more important than sex with you, even mind-blowing sex.

"So while our day together will always be one of my sweetest memories, it will have to be our only time together.

"And in one other way that's probably a good thing. I don't see how the second time could ever live up to what the first time was like!"

He laughed again, and said, "I'm not so sure about that! But I do understand, Ellen. I felt pretty bad about being with a married woman, but I was following your lead—and to tell the truth I was incredibly turned-on! But in a way it's a relief not to be getting involved any further in something that could ruin your marriage.

"And if you and Dan don't . . . stay together, I will always be so sorry for my role in that."

I shook my head firmly, reaching over to squeeze Chris' hand. "Chris, what we did was NOT your fault. I know you find me attractive, and I am so flattered!—but we both know I was all over you that day. I did everything but take my clothes off right in the restaurant! You have nothing to reproach yourself about, and I mean that."

With the central issue between us firmly resolved, Chris and I relaxed and talked a good while longer. I heard about his studies, and we shared war stories of the administration at OSU and our various battles with it.

I continued to marvel at how relaxed I felt, how the desire I still felt for Chris stayed very much in the background and under control. He was still a very attractive man. If I had been unattached I would happily have jumped in bed with him again. But I wasn't, and accepting that it wasn't going to happen was surprisingly easy.

After awhile, Chris said he needed to go do some studying, and we said a friendly goodbye, without even a hug—that seemed safest! I was barely back in my chair when Dan burst through the door, looking like a madman. His face was red and tear-streaked and he was breathing hard.

When I understood after a few minutes that he was planning to catch me and Chris in bed—and that he'd set the whole thing up—I was furious for a moment, but then just deeply sad. Dan's having stooped to such a thing showed yet again how much pain he was in, and how desperately he was wrestling with his feelings. My wonderful, strong, loving husband was behaving like a maniac, and I had caused it all!

After he pulled away from my arms and went silently off to bed, I sat and thought. How could I reach him? Was there any way to communicate to Dan the love I felt, the remorse? How could I make any of this up to him?

So far we'd been snuggling in bed every night, but without kissing or caressing or having sex at all. I had been waiting for him to take the lead, but tonight I decided to be more aggressive. I took off all my clothes and slid in behind him, spooning him tightly from behind. After a few minutes I started to caress him, enjoying the feeling of his chest, his back against my breasts, and then his cock in my hand.

It surprised me that his erection didn't appear right away, but I took my time and soon it was everything I might have hoped for! I began to slide my body against him, enjoying my own feelings of arousal and looking forward to our first love-making in more than a month—the longest time we'd ever gone without sex.

Then he suddenly, violently pulled himself away from me, and without a word headed downstairs. I was shocked, and hurt. I almost started to cry, but I restrained myself, lying quietly in the darkness and listening for him. I hoped he'd come back, but soon it was clear he was planning to stay downstairs, away from me, all night.

I was hurt, frustrated, and at a loss. I had welcomed Dan home with affection and patience. I had gently given him time to turn to me physically, and had waited patiently when he showed no signs of doing so. Then, tonight, I had tried to be more assertive, using my body to communicate my love to him. Both approaches had failed. I had no idea what to do now.

In the morning when I went quietly downstairs, Dan was fast asleep under a blanket on the sofa. I figured he needed the rest, so I didn't disturb him. I dressed, had my breakfast, left him a short note, and went to work. The note said:

Dear Dan:

I love you so much, and I'm so sorry, and I don't know what to do. When you moved back home, I was so hopeful that we could gradually find a way back to one another. But it doesn't seem to be working. I am trying as hard as I can to show you how much I love you, and atone in any way I can for what I did.

But it seems we are growing apart, not together.

Would you consider letting me come with you to your appointments with Arthur George? Do you think that might be helpful? I don't wish to intrude, and it's entirely up to you. I'm just reaching for any means I can to help work out our problems—problems I know I'm totally to blame for.

Please let me know what you think.

Your loving wife, Ellen

***************

The weekend was quiet. When I came home from work that Friday Dan was clearly still unhappy, but calm. We didn't talk much, but he told me that he'd contacted Arthur George and they'd agreed that I should come to the next session, on Tuesday.

Over the weekend we were civil but not warm. I didn't know how to reach out to Dan, and he seemed content for us to do our errands and household chores pretty much in silence. I longed for Tuesday to come, hoping desperately that seeing Dan's therapist together could put us on the right track.

Arthur George, God bless him, made me feel welcome and at ease right away. I had feared that he'd be judgmental, or worse. After all, he'd been working with my husband for several weeks, helping him deal with terrible misery caused entirely by me. But he was straightforward and kind, and my nervousness disappeared very quickly.

Rather than take me back through my sexual encounter with Chris—which I feared he would insist on—Arthur asked both Dan and me to tell him what had happened on the previous Thursday. Clearly Arthur knew all about Dan's plan to "test" me with Chris.

He listened gravely and attentively to each of us, watching to see how we reacted to the other one's version of events. It was the first time that Dan had heard about my conversation with Chris, and he looked hard at me the whole time. I made a point of elaborating on my changed feelings for Chris—that I no longer felt the crazy, uncontrollable attraction that had caused me to jump in bed with him that one time. I so hoped that Dan would hear this and believe me, and begin to feel less angry and humiliated.

When our two versions of the Thursday night were finished, Arthur said, "I'd like to focus for a few minutes on what happened when you were in bed together that evening, all right?

"I'm going to ask each of you to try something. Please take a couple of minutes and try to reverse roles. Ellen, imagine that encounter as if you were the one cheated on, OK? Imagine that he'd had an affair with Bridget, that you were hurt and angry, and that he'd approached you in bed that night.

"Dan, I'd like you to imagine the same thing: that you had previously been to bed with Bridget, that Ellen was very hurt and angry, and that you were approaching her that night in bed.

"Each of you, just think this through for a bit, and I'll ask you to share your thoughts about it."

I was astonished at the feelings that boiled up in me! But when we both looked ready to speak, Arthur nodded to Dan to begin.

"I would be feeling that I so much wanted to reassure Ellen that I still loved and desired her. What I did hurt her so badly! It hurt her pride, and it destroyed her trust in me, her trust that I would sleep only with her.

"So my approaching her for sex was a way of telling her I DID desire and love her, and a small first step in rebuilding her belief in that."

"Okay, Ellen—can you tell us what you imagined feeling if the situation were reversed, and Dan approached you?"

I looked straight at Arthur. "I felt: that fucking bastard!" The rage I had been experiencing suddenly flared up in me, as I went on.

"That son of a bitch has a hot night of sex with Bridget. And he knows how devastated I am. So he climbs in bed and rubs my pussy, and I'm supposed to get all hot and bothered and let him fuck me until I feel better? I know whose pussy he's thinking about, and wanting!

"How can I see it as anything but the most cynical kind of 'oh gee, honey, I'm so sorry'? It's supposed to make me believe it's ME he desires? What bullshit!"

By the time I finished I was practically shouting. I almost couldn't believe how angry I had become, thinking about that night from Dan's side of things.

And then, in the silence, I started to cry.

"Oh, Dan," I said, "is that what it felt like to you?"

"Pretty much," he replied quietly. Then there was more silence, as I continued to cry.

Finally, after a long time, Arthur cleared his throat to get our attention, then spoke to us.

"I think we can all see the problem you two are facing right now. Dan, putting himself in Ellen's shoes, was able to recognize what she did as a loving attempt at renewing your intimacy. But Ellen, considering it from Dan's side, was furiously angry at what felt like a hypocritical invitation to some sort of superficial 'make-up sex'.

"But I want you to see that there's some good news here too. In all my sessions with Dan, and in today's session with both of you, I perceive two people who love and value one another very much. I see a strong marriage with a big problem, not a fundamentally troubled marriage.

"Second, you should each take note of how empathetic you were able to be, how successfully each of you was able to understand what the other person was feeling. Even though Dan was very angry at what you did that night, Ellen, he was able to see today that it was a loving gesture. And Ellen, you were able to understand why your actions made Dan so angry."

I said, "yes, Arthur, but I'm not sure where that leaves us. I want to show Dan my love for him; and, yes, my desire for him. I want to ... be with him again, sexually, a lot—and only with him! But there don't seem to be any ways that I can express those feelings that he will believe."

To my surprise Dan agreed with me. "She's right, I'm afraid. I don't feel like I can trust anything she says and does right now. She wants to save our marriage, and I see every one of her actions from that perspective—her self-interest. And, I guess, her guilt."

Arthur responded quickly. "But Dan, the fact that Ellen wants to save your marriage—doesn't that in itself mean something? Surely you don't think that's just because she likes your house, or doesn't want to cook for herself?"

Dan nodded, slowly. "I guess I see that. She loves me. She wants me in her life. Yes, I believe those things.

"But it's a whole hell of a lot harder to believe that she desires me—that I'm the one she wants to have sex with, and not Chris Doebe."

Quietly I said, "I turned him down, Dan. You set up a test for me, and I turned him down. That must mean something."

"Yes, Ellen, it means that our marriage means more to you than fucking Chris again. That is something.

"But it doesn't mean that you want to fuck me rather than Chris—it just means that you recognize you can't have our marriage if you fuck Chris. So maybe it means you're willing to settle for just fucking old Dan. Better than nothing, perhaps. But hardly a ringing endorsement of my desirability, or my talents in bed."

"Dan, you've told me that for months you fucked me up one wall and down the other, all the time imagining I was Bridget Zuzich! So what if I occasionally think about Chris?"

Dan looked at me, with such sadness I almost had to turn away. "Sweetheart—the difference is that you never knew Bridget was in my head. You never had to compete with her. You remained happily secure of my love and desire. And my fantasy about Bridget stayed safely in the realm of fantasy.

"But you slept with Chris—and I know you did, and I know it was incredible. So now I have to compete with that, and I always will. And I don't know how I'll ever know whether it's me you want, or just a warm body you can rub against while imagining that it's Chris Doebe inside you again."

There was a long silence. I sat, utterly devastated by Dan's words, trying hard not to cry again.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Arthur said, "it's clear that we still have some work to do. But I urge each of you not to give in to your unhappiest feelings, or your most pessimistic fears. You have a lot of love and mutual understanding to build on.

"Dan, I think that Ellen is absolutely right about one thing. At this point, she has no idea how to communicate to you her love, her remorse, or her desire for you. So it's going to be up to you to figure that out. YOU will need to discover how she can do that without making you even more angry.

"And Ellen, I think you're going to have to be patient about it. Because right now I don't think Dan has any idea about how to let you in.

"Finally, I'm going to suggest that I continue to see Dan twice a week, and that Ellen come with him once every other week. Much of what we have to work on will be easier just between me and Dan, but I also want us to check in together regularly as a threesome to see how things are doing from both sides of the marriage."

As we left the office and headed to the parking lot, I said, "Arthur is an awfully nice man, Dan."

"Yes he is—we're lucky to have him." Then, without a word, he took my hand, holding it gently all the way until we reached my car.

***************

***************

DAN'S STORY

I knew that Arthur was right—it was up to me to find a way to get back to intimacy with Ellen. I had made it very clear to both of us that she couldn't take the lead, that I simply didn't trust any move she made. I couldn't shake the feeling that she had come to me in bed out of guilt or apology, rather than out of desire.

We limped along for another month or so. The anticipation of Christmas at home with the kids was a little tense, because we didn't want them to know what we were going through. At Ellen's suggestion she and I returned to sleeping in the master bedroom a couple of nights before Danny and Alexis came for their visit.

Fortunately they were so happy to see us, and each other, that Ellen and I were able to relax and just be loving parents for a week. After a couple of days the kids were mostly out of the house, anyway, spending time with hometown friends that they couldn't see most of the year.

In early January Ellen asked me to sit down for a talk after dinner.

"Baby, I'm going to take a few days and visit Diane. It's a slow time this week at the office, and they won't mind my being away."

I nodded, just looking at her. I knew this meant more than just a visit. Finally she continued.

"I just don't know how to reach you, Dan. We live in this house, we're civil and kind to one another, we go together and talk to Arthur . . . but we're stuck.

"You know that I love you, and you must know that I want you, too—I want to make love again—but neither of us knows how to make that happen. Arthur keeps saying that it has to come from you. But it isn't coming."