No More Regrets
*****
Quick writer's note:
Tags for this story: Consequences, Divorce, Regret
This is another installment in an ongoing series of conversations among lovers or former lovers and their families
. Conversations 05 No More Regrets
tells the story of a woman who settled for a good man when her true love left her, made a life with him, and then faced a tough decision when her heart's desire returned. This is her story.
This is not a BTB nor a RAAC story; I call it more of a 'Good things happen to bad people' story. Still, I hope you'll find it somewhat realistic and enjoyable.
I want to thank my editors for their collaboration and advice. The story is a better one because of them. Charlie, John, Demosthenes384bc, KenD, The Hoary Cleric, Randi, and HighLuster contributed.
I love collaborating with people, so I look forward to expanding this editing team. If you are interested in being a part of this collaboration team, please send me your email address through private messaging, and I'll shoot you, my stories.
I'm going insane.
Where in the hell can he be!
I know he wasn't happy about the news I just dropped on him. Not happy? That was an understatement. It was a major hit to his pride; it rocked his world to its core. He stormed out of our house like he was a man possessed. That big diesel engine roared all the way down our long driveway and out onto the isolated road.
It took about an hour for me to start worrying. By then, he hadn't responded to any of the texts I had begun to send him a half-hour earlier. I waited for about two full hours before I couldn't resist getting in my car to look for him. I figured I had little chance of finding him, but it made me feel better to be doing something proactive.
Of course, my mind ran through the possible scenarios. Maybe he headed for parts unknown, abandoning us. No, that wasn't Troy. The thought of him having an accident, hurting himself or someone else chilled me. Suicide. My blood ran cold with just the thought. My cousin's son committed suicide just a year ago. He was going through a similar situation.
I feared the latter but doubted it as well. Troy's a man's man. Tough, independent, strong, and defiant to a degree. He is a sheriff's deputy; he knows the psychological impact the victim's death has on the family. He knows the disgrace the spouse suffers, and the schoolyard taunts the kids must bear. But the thought nagged at me anyway.
The sun was hanging just above the treetops when I thought I'd try one last possibility. I'd exhausted all of the more obvious places he might have been - his best friend's house, the local bar, our park, and even the bowling alley. Now it was time to expand my search to the outside of town. That brought me to Greyson's Lake. It's one of his favorite settings for fishing and we've been there a few times for family picnics. The gravel crunched under my tires as I crept toward the shoreline.
I saw his big truck and sighed in deep relief. Then I saw him. Troy was about fifty yards away. I watched him for a reaction as I exited my car and let the door announce my presence. I knew better than to sneak up on him.
Troy was sitting on the tabletop; his feet rested on the bench seats. He was on the left edge of the table, staring off into the horizon. His service weapon pinned the manilla envelope I had given him a couple of hours earlier to the table. The dog-eared corners of the enclosed documents were sticking out of the flap. It looked like he had repeatedly been examining the artifacts of our disintegration.
The end of a marriage is never as joyous as its beginning. I hadn't come lightly to my decision to end ours. It was the best thing for me, but that didn't relieve me of the guilt I felt. It also didn't relieve me of my responsibility for its end.
As I approached from the right, I eyed his weapon, and my fears reignited. I paused at the end of the table. I watched him, knowing that he knew I was there.
"Is that for me...or you?" It was both a joke and an honest question. I wasn't sure if the idea of suicide had crossed his mind, but I'm sure the thought of ending
me
had.
"I haven't decided yet. Still considering my options."
His flat and emotionless tone sent a chill up my spine. I decided to push my luck and sat on the table next to his weapon. I tucked my hands between my thighs; I didn't want him to think I might try to pick it up.
"The girls will need both parents to get through this." I didn't have the training to talk a potentially dangerous situation down, but it made intuitive sense to appeal to his love for his daughters. "If I'm dead and you're in prison, who would care for them?" No emotion. Not even a flinch as he kept his eyes locked on the water ahead of us.
"You're right, they need their mother." I felt a slight twinge of relief; it appeared I was safe. "Of course, Tomas will make a great father." An audible chirp escaped me as my head spun to see if he was serious when I understood he was referring to hurting himself. Nothing.
I practiced some silent breathing techniques to give myself a chance to calm down and time to consider an appropriate response. "You're right. He will someday, to his
own
child." I heard my voice wavering, so I knew Troy heard it also. "But,
not
to yours. He will be an amazing
step
father to your girls. Nothing more." I let that sit for a second.
"Both girls will want you to be a part of their lives and walk them down the aisle when the time comes. Tomas could be no more than a substitute. He could never be a replacement." I was hoping I sounded convincing enough as I watched him fidget.
I don't know how long he'd been sitting there, but I wondered if the hardwood of the picnic table was becoming uncomfortable. I watched his hands. I needed to know that he wouldn't make any rash moves. This was the tensest situation I had ever experienced; it easily surpassed the moment when I ended our marriage two hours ago.
"But are they, though?" The question caught me off guard, and I wasn't sure what he was asking. So much was going through my mind.
"What?" I asked, "Are who what?"
"The girls. Are they mine?" He asked his question quietly. I sucked my breath in and reached for my mouth to hold back my shock. His words pushed all my emotional buttons, then they pissed me off.
"Fuck you, Troy Adam Wright!" I turned away from him; I couldn't believe he would ask such a confrontational question. "How dare you ask me that! Of course, they're yours!" I spat out my response without even trying to hide the disappointment and anger in my voice.
Troy looked at me for the first time. Pain! All I could see in his eyes was the horrendous pain I had caused. "Really?" he said as he pointed to my
Petition for Divorce
, weighted down by his service weapon. "Just a few hours ago, you handed those papers to me. They say that you no longer want to be my wife. Everything I thought I knew was wrong. So, forgive me if I don't trust you right now, Penny. It's obvious you've been lying to me, so don't start with that fucking holier-than-thou act if I question whether those kids are mine or not!" His volume steadily rose as he wound himself up. All I could do was look at him in astonishment and wait for him to wind back down.
I wiped a tear as I looked away from him. He was right. I no longer had the right to expect trust from him. Anything I got from him from this moment forward would have to be earned. The realization devastated me, as it should have.
I hiccupped, and I worked to control my response. I hated that he was right. Mostly I hated myself for making it so. I had to remind myself that, though I was breaking his heart and faith in me, my decision was right for me. I had spent hours upon hours agonizing over my choices and all my options, and none of them were any better than no good.
My infidelity made it impossible to seek counsel from friends and family. I didn't want to confess to them and face their reproach and disapproval. I didn't even tell my parents about my decision to divorce Troy until this morning when I asked them to watch the kids for me. They tried to deter me vehemently. I understood their position but couldn't agree with it. I wasn't to be deterred from my path. There was no other option for me other than divorce. It's the only path that would give me a chance to find happiness. I knew it would be a painful journey, but I was committed.
I looked back at the husband I previously cherished, taking all of him in. He once was a happy, proud family man. Now he was isolated, sitting beside the last person he'd want to be alone with, angry and defeated, both at the same time.