It's a matter of trust - my ending to AndrewPeters' Best Of Both Worlds
URL: http://www.literotica.com/s/best-of-both-worlds-ch-02
AndrewPeters' Best of Both Worlds is part of a story about a wife's long term affair, her husband catching her, both with evidence from a PI, and in their bed, in his home, with the lover fucking his wife's ass, something she'd long denied him. Of course, according to the wife it shouldn't matter, it was only sex, she loved her husband, even if she'd placed her lover above him in priority over and over again for a long period of time.
Over a series of chapters, they get divorced, he tries to move on - but the author won't allow him. The wife slowly realizes what she's done, through time, learning her lover was cheating on her (!), that she wasn't special, that her husband is seeing other women who seem to enjoy being with him, and through counseling. The author also uses the daughter to start a forced reconciliation - she wants her parents back together, and of course, that's all the matters, right? After four chapters leading up to her getting caught and one chapter of the immediate aftermath, we're subjected to three more chapters of the inevitable reconciliation (and thankfully some revenge against the lover). Inevitable? I wonder . . .
BTW, the story was starting sometime before March, 2004. When? I'm not certain since the first chapter has been removed. The following chapters 2 through 9 were published from March 04 through January 08. We're told at the end of chapter 9 that there is one more chapter, hopefully soon. That was six and a half years ago. A long time to wait for a conclusion.
There are too damn many intriguing stories that are never completed, or left hanging with disgusting endings. If I find a story that's been abandoned for too long, I'll give you my idea of an ending. Fair warning though, I don't write about total wimps. May not be BTB, all nuclear and shit, but no voluntary cucks, or whiny simpering wimps.
For Information on how I choose which stories to continue, please read my profile.
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The End of Best of Both Worlds Ch 09
"When we first got together, we already knew who each other was, we were friends first, and more after. I'd like to see if we can become friends again, maybe that's all there will be, maybe not. Time will tell"
We continued to walk along, though both of us talking, rather than just her listening to my rant. In some ways saying we both walked along is almost an exaggeration, I think Sarah was almost floating. She did shed tears as she told me that this was more than she ever hoped for, another chance. And she agreed that whatever happened, we needed to go slow, to get to know each other again, and to decide together, if there was a future together in being more than just Jennifer's parents. We both agreed that if nothing else, we could share a friendship, though how deep or strong it would be waited to be seen.
As I headed home I realized that I felt more content than I had in years, like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders, that a sad story chapter in my life had finally received the necessary degree of closure.
It is strange, how emotions work. At the moment, talking to my ex-wife, feeling that old camaraderie, it was as if what she had done to us had happened to some other couple, in a different age. As so often happens, later, alone, I felt some of the old bitterness returning.
But then Jennifer was there. My darling daughter Jennifer, who'd been the loving escape I'd needed when things were at their worst. Who'd never blamed me for breaking up the family, while blithely moving forward, always hoping that someday we could be a family again.
I recalled her 11th birthday, when she tried to blow out her candles, and failed, with one solitary lit soldier remaining. She had explained it didn't matter, her wishes wouldn't come true anyway. For years she'd wished the same thing, that her family would get back together.
It had been painful to hear. She was an innocent, faultless, yet made to suffer for my wife's adulterous behavior, and my inability to accept it.
Now, years after that betrayal, after so many attempts to move on, I was considering whether it was worth the effort to try again. For my daughter, for the happiness I couldn't seem to find with anybody else, for my repentant wife who finally seemed to understand just what she'd done, although she still couldn't give me a satisfactory reason why.
Honestly, I believe that being able to ruin that asshole glassblower helped, giving me a target to release my anger and hatred. In my mind I was able to force much of the blame on him, granting my ex-wife some latitude for submitting to his seduction. Destroying his business, his name, and his engagement had helped.
Thus it was that less than a week later I was canceling a blind date that a friend had setup, and instead, invited my ex-wife out for a day in the park, with Jennifer and I. Not quite a date, but more than I'd thought I'd ever accept. The plan was simple enough: she'd come over, we'd go out as a family, while she provided a picnic lunch. We'd take our girl to the zoo, and afterwards head out for dinner together.
My emotions were in turmoil the days leading up to our outing. I felt a little of the old bitterness, mixed with a sense of eagerness, perhaps even anticipation. Jennifer was bouncing off the walls in excitement.
I'd be lying if I said the day was anything other than wonderful. Seeing my daughter so happy put us all in a good mood. Of course Sarah remembers my favorites, and was sure to have her grandmother's fried chicken for us, as well as Jennifer's favorite, PB&J. I think it was purposeful that we talked of nothing recent, only rehashing our older memories, and discussing a little about our jobs, and some of our old friends.
As we drove home after dinner, I felt nervous, anxious. Mostly for how Jennifer would take it. What were her new expectations? I was relieved when we got home and she gave her mother a big hug and a kiss, said she'd see her later, and disappeared into the house.
I don't think either of us expected that, and we were left standing on the stoop, looking at the door she'd left ajar, then at each other.
"That was . . . not what I'd expected," I said, as much to break the ice as anything else.
Sarah looked at me with a smile and a hint of wistfulness. "Thank you for today, Bill. It was more than I could ever have hoped for."
When she moved toward me, I didn't think twice about opening my arms to her, hugging her warmly. We were silent, I imagine both of us lost in our thoughts. For a moment she was my old Sarah, the young girl I'd fell in love with, who I'd planned my future around, the mother of my perfect little girl. Sarah, the woman I'd loved to distraction for so many years. I clutched her a little tighter, afraid of losing her, the woman I'd loved back then.
My grip loosened, as did hers, but I did not release her. She leaned back against my hold, my arms all that was holding her up from falling backwards. She gazed up into my face with tears in her eyes, and my heart hurt for her. For us, for what we'd lost.
Her lips parted, and I saw the tip of her tongue brush her upper lip. I knew what she wanted, but she wasn't going to take that first step. She gazed into my eyes, patient, expectant, hopeful.
I leaned down and pressed my lips against hers, softly, gently, cautiously. I felt her arms encircle my neck, and she kissed me back, courageously, passionately, her tongue teasing my lips and teeth.
It was only for a few seconds, and then we pulled apart. I brushed her loose hair back from her face, and caressed her cheek with the back of my fingers. "I had a wonderful time today," I said.
Her grin was in danger of splitting her face open. "Me too. The best in a long, long time." She stood on tiptoe and gave me a brief peck on the lips. "I'm going to go now, before I do or say something stupid. I hope you'll call me so we can go out again soon."
With that she turned away from me, back toward her car, leaving me standing there, with the taste of her on my lips, and a hard aching in my pants. She turned back before getting in the car, waving, and blowing me a kiss, before opening her door, and driving away.
I went upstairs, and dealt with the memento she'd left me, stroking myself to completion, remembering how it had been, once upon a time.
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We took it slow, very slow. It was a mutual decision. We both knew the path we strode was surrounded by land mines waiting to go off. So we stepped carefully, always aware of what we avoided, never bringing it up, leaving it walled off, an impediment to our progress.
Jennifer was happier than ever. We both could see it in her, and she was no longer hesitant to suggest involving her mother in our activities, any activities.
It was six weeks later that I invited her out, just the two of us. I had a sitter for Jennifer, and offered to take her out for dinner and dancing.
I thought I'd lost her. The silence over the phone seemed to go on forever. "Just us?" she asked hesitantly.
"You and me, if . . . if that's alright."
"No, I mean yes! That's alright, more than alright. Where are we going, how should I dress?"
"Nothing too fancy, but we will be going to The Backroom for dancing and drinks afterward."
"What time?" she asked eagerly.
I was smiling as I told her I'd pick her up at 6:30 if that was okay. I had reservations for seven.
"That's perfect. I'll be ready. I . . . I'll see you then."