February Suced - March Did Not

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So I read GeorgeAnderson's brilliant but (kinda) infuriating 'February Sucks' ( https://www.literotica.com/s/february-sucks ) and I immediately got inspired to write my own version(s) in which there was a bit more *justice*... I did my best to mine GA's own prose and edited here and there to give it a consistent voice. Credit to GA for a good story. Enjoy.

__________________________________

MARCH 1

I thought I should be curious enough to look out the window. Did he bring her home himself? Did he send her in a limo? in a cab? I couldn't bring myself to care enough to get out of my chair.

"Jim? Jim, I'm home." She sounded just like she always did when she came home from running errands. She closed the front door and turned on a light. I turned to look at her.

She looked exactly the same. The blue dress still did everything for her that it had done the night before. Her dark hair fell down her back the same way; the poise of her head, the set of her shoulders, her face, the rings on her finger, were all exactly the same as they had been the night before.

As if nothing had changed at all; as if she hadn't spent all night and all morning betraying me. That shouldn't be possible, I thought. There should be some visible difference, something to indicate what she had done, at least some shame on her face. There wasn't.

She'd even sent me a text sometime during the night, in between fuck sessions, I guess, that she was safe, that I should not worry, that she'll return to me, that she loved me.

"It's still just me, the same old me as always," she said with a tender smile. Of course she knew what I'd been thinking. "There's nothing different; nothing has changed. My love for you is just the same as it was yesterday."

"If that's true, then I guess we never had what I thought we did." Linda's face fell.

"Jim, honey,..."

"Go upstairs and shower and change your clothes. I unpacked your stuff."

"I took a shower before I came home. You know I would never..."

"Take another one." There was a growl in my voice that she had never heard before from me. She fled upstairs without another word.

I had thought I'd had enough time to get my anger under control, but I guess I was wrong. I tried to get hold of myself while she showered, so we could talk about what came next. I owed it to our kids. She came downstairs, dressed in sweats, her hair in a pony tail, and a worried expression on her face.

"Thanks for putting my things away, Jim, but where's the lingerie I laid out on the bed in the hotel room?"

"I threw it in the trash. Just like you did with our 'special' evening."

"Jim, I bought them especially to share with you. I was hoping to do that tonight to start making up for..."

"I got that hotel room especially to share with you, and we know how well that worked, now don't we?" Her eyes dropped to the floor. I fought for self-control, again.

"Was it everything you expected?" The question hung in the air. Finally, Linda met my eyes, a worried look on her face.

"Jim, I know you have questions. I know we need to talk, and I'll tell you whatever you want to know, honestly and completely. But are you sure you want to know... that? I'll tell you honestly, but I don't want to hurt you."

"It's a little late to be thinking about not hurting me, isn't it?"

Linda winced. "I know, but I'm afraid that telling you what happened will hurt you more, and that will make it harder for us... well, for you to get past this so we can go on with our marriage. Can't we concentrate on the future? We can't let just one night ruin our whole lives."

"That's something else you should have thought about last night," I responded. I pointed to a little crystal vase that Linda loved, which always sat on our mantelpiece. "How many times would I have to throw that vase against the fireplace for it to shatter? Then what would it take for you to 'get past' my breaking it? Even if there were some way to mend it, to put it back together, it would never be the same, would it?"

"Jim, you know how much I love that vase, but I can do without it. Our marriage, what we've built together over almost ten years, is far stronger, and more beautiful, than that vase. Our love is built to weather storms and last a lifetime. That, I can't do without. I know you're hurting, badly. I know I need to make it up to you, and I will, whatever it takes. But above all, I know you love me enough that eventually, you'll get past your hurt and we'll be fine."

"Until last night, I knew you loved me enough that you would never cheat on me. I guess we were both wrong."

Linda slumped back into her chair.

"So, was the night, and morning, with Asshole everything you expected?"

"Marc isn't an asshole. He's a good man, a gentleman. I think you would like him, if things were different."

"He is an asshole. Any so-called man who walks up to a woman who is with someone else, not caring whether she's married or attached, and takes her away from him and takes her home and fucks her, just because he can, is an asshole."

"Jim, Marc didn't take me away from you. He couldn't."

"If he didn't take you away from me, where were you last night?"

"Well, okay, he took me away for the night, but I'm here with you now, and I'll stay with you for the rest of my life."

"Yeah, you're here with me now because Asshole got what he wanted and now he's done with you."

"No, you're wrong. I'm here because I love you, because I'm your wife, and this is our home that we share."

"Right. So if Asshole had asked you to stick around this afternoon so he could fuck you some more, where would you be right now?"

Linda at least had the grace to blush. "Okay, you're right about that. But Marc was kind and respectful to me the whole time I was with him, and I wish you wouldn't call him that."

"Well, my wishes haven't counted for shit with you since Asshole walked up to you last night, now have they? So why in the fucking hell should yours count with me?" I had risen from my chair to hurl the words at her. She cringed back, frightened. I slumped back into my chair and tried to regain control of myself.

"All right, then. We'll try again. Was it everything you expected?"

"Everything and more." There was both sympathy and resolution in her gaze as she looked directly at me. "Again, do you really want to know? I don't want to hurt you."

"You already have."

"I didn't mean to..."

"Yet, you did."

She bit her lip. "I don't want to hurt you more than I already have. I don't want to make it harder for us to get past this."

"I get that," I said. "I still want you to tell me."

She stared at me. "He was an amazing lover. It was by far the best sex I've ever imagined, let alone had. I lost track of how many times I came; they all ran together after a while. It seemed to last forever, and it was exactly what I wanted. From the moment he took me in his arms, he dominated my senses to the point that there was no room for anything else."

"He played me like an instrument, Jim. He made me sing. And for one time, one night, I enjoyed being played by an expert. But that was enough. I don't want it, or him, ever again. If I had to have that every night for a month, I would go insane." She smiled at me, encouragingly. "But I'm back now. I'm back for good and I'm yours and yours alone for ever."

"I know you're hurting terribly, and I'm sorry for that. I know it will take time for you to heal. I also know that you love me and that you know that Marc only borrowed me for one night. Just one night. But I'm back. And I choose you, not Marc; I love you, not Marc. This doesn't have to affect our entire future together."

Well, I asked for that, didn't I? At least she seemed to be serious about telling the truth. I sighed. I might as well get on with it and find out how bad the damage was.

"How did it start?" I asked. Linda was thoughtful for a moment.

"I was shocked when Marc asked me to dance. You know I didn't try to attract his attention; I had been sure he would ask someone else. Then he asked me, and I saw the envy in Dee's eyes, and knew I'd never have another chance to say I danced with Marc LaValliere, so I gave him my hand. I was too nervous to say anything. I didn't even tell him my name until we were out on the floor and he asked. I knew I'd said I would only dance with you, but I thought I would dance a couple of dances with him and that would be it. I'd come back to you, and you would understand.

"I enjoyed dancing with Marc. He is a very good dancer, as I'm sure you noticed. He's thinking of teaching ballroom dancing when he's finished with football, if his knees aren't gone. I think he'll be good at it.

"After the second fast dance, I thought we were finished. Just as I was about to thank him for the dance, the band started a slow song and his arms went around me. It sounds like a cliché, or a stupid star-struck teenager, but from that moment I forgot about everything but him. He didn't say anything, but I knew then that he wanted much more than a dance from me. At almost the same instant, I knew I would give it to him. I didn't really decide, I didn't think about it, I just knew, as if I'd been told. During the second slow dance, he asked me if I was ready. He didn't have to explain what he meant. I nodded; I couldn't talk.

"'There's a back door by the restrooms. Say you have to go, and I'll meet you there.' I appreciated that he was enough of a gentleman to not come by our table and rub your face in it. Then he walked toward his table, and you seated me and took my hand. I'm sure you noticed how jumpy I was."

"I did. Like an idiot, I thought after dancing with him you were eager to be with me. It never occurred to me that you couldn't wait to leave me."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't leaving you. It was no different from running errands or going to work. I knew I would come back when I had finished, just like I will always come back."

"Really? So you really think running off to spend a night fucking Asshole is no different than going to the grocery store?"

"Well, no, not exactly, but it still wasn't as if I was really leaving you."

"The hell it wasn't really leaving!" She flinched as if I'd slapped her. "For the rest of my life," I continued, "I'll have to live with the fact that I'm your first choice only when LaValliere isn't available."

Linda was visibly horrified. "Jim, you're my first choice always; you have been for more than ten years! One night doesn't change that!"

"One night did change that, or maybe it just revealed it. You chose him over me every chance you had, from the moment he asked you to dance until he decided he was finished with you."

"How can I make you see that isn't true?"

"You can't, because it is true. And don't give me that crap about not really deciding, or your choices were already made. You chose to signal Dee to take you to the restroom. You chose to tell her to cover for you. And when you walked out of the restroom, you chose to walk toward Marc LaValliere instead of away from him. You chose him over me every time."

Linda was quiet for a moment. "I don't want to think I'm the kind of woman who could do that, even if all my friends thought it was okay. Which they do, by the way: Dee told me this afternoon. But I promise you that's not what's in my heart."

I fought for control, got it, and asked one last question. "If I'd cut in, would you have stayed with me?"

Linda raised her eyes to mine, and held them. "No."

It hurt. A lot. But I guess I asked for that one, too.

"Jim, I didn't do this to hurt you. Please don't do anything that will make it harder for us to go on together."

I had already done something though. Her resolute, admirably honest 'No' had killed any last vestige of guilt I had about it. I would have still gone ahead with it either way; it was too late to turn back.

But now I felt liberated.

It came much earlier than I expected, but the timing of the knock couldn't have been more perfect if I had planned it myself. I stood up and walked to the door. I peeked out through the pane and saw the waiting cab, the figure in front, hand still up from knocking.

"Who's that, Jim?" Linda asked.

I didn't answer. I just opened the door.

"Hi!" she said, stepping in, so focused on me that she didn't notice my wife sitting behind me as she kissed me.

Linda gasped audibly behind us.

She heard and broke off the kiss. She gasped as she saw Linda over my shoulder.

I turned then. Linda was on her feet, face white, as if she'd seen a ghost. Or a siren, because that was the best way to describe the woman who had just kissed me in front of my wife.

"It's okay," I said to the both of them. I turned to our visitor, who looked shaken. "I'll be out shortly. Just give me five, maybe ten minutes?"

I gave her a reassuring smile. She smiled back and nodded. Strangely, she sent an acknowledging nod to a disbelieving Linda and went back out.

I shut the door because the house was getting cold. It was still frightfully cold outside.

"Who..." Linda asked, voice shaking, "who is that?"

"Sit," I said, going back to sit down.

She didn't sit down. "Who is that...?" she demanded again, voice loud and sharp.

"Don't raise your voice to me, Linda," I warned. "Sit. Down."

She sat. She opened her mouth, but I raised my hand, halting her.

"No," I said, "let me talk and I'll let you know everything."

"Remember last year? In August? The weather was so great, I liked to go to Hampton Park to have lunch, just relax and read something else instead of reports. I told you about that, remember?"

Linda nodded, visibly swallowing.

"Well, it was a Tuesday and I come to my spot, this hidden little bench, and there was this absolutely gorgeous woman sitting there, eating by herself.

"I didn't want to go looking for another place to sit; that was my spot, as far as I was concerned, and there was enough space for the two of us, so I sat down on the other side and had my lunch and read my book. It was a sandwich you made for me. All I said to her was hi, if that.

"After, maybe ten minutes? I noticed she was looking at me. Curious, I guess. But I didn't say anything. I didn't want to give her the wrong idea. Besides, she was so utterly beautiful, I didn't think there was any interest on her part. There probably wasn't any. She was probably wondering how come I wasn't trying to come on to her like every other guy."

I shrugged. "To be honest, it didn't even occur to me. I'm just plain old Jim Carlisle. No one special, like... like Marc LaValliere, I guess."

Linda flushed then, and she opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, but I held up my hand to stop her and continued. "I promise you I didn't say a word to her and I was just about to go when this really buff guy came down the path in his jogging shorts. No shirt. Ripped as heck. He sees her, slows down and starts coming over, all confident.

"He starts to say something and she just tells him, 'Sorry, I'm not interested, I'm married' and she points to me!

"So I play along and tell the guy 'Yeah, I know she's absolutely gorgeous and you can't help yourself, but please stop hitting on my wife!'

"The guy was cool. He even laughed. He apologized to both of us, like a gentleman, and went on his way."

I looked into Linda's eyes, saw the apprehension in them.

Good.

"Anyway, she apologized for putting me on the spot like that. She told me that she found my little bench and hid away to eat because she was always getting hit on and she really needed a break to eat in peace.

"Anyway, she introduces herself; her name is Jayna Aguilar. She had a stand at the bakers' fair they were having in the park. You remember that, right? It was all in the news?"

I waited for Linda to nod, seeing her hands clench.

"I introduced myself too, and she asks me if I eat at that bench everyday. I said yeah, I do, most of the time, if the weather is good. So she asks me a favor. If I could just keep showing up, same time, same place until Friday, so she could sit with me like we were together and eat without being bothered.

"I thought; well, if that's all, I didn't think there was anything wrong with that. I was going to do that anyway. I even told you about it? About a woman asking to have her lunch next to me, so she could eat in peace? Remember? You gave me a kiss, and said she must have seen I was a real gentleman?"

I waited for Linda to nod again.

"So, I came back the next day, Wednesday, with my sandwich. But she came with two; one for me as well. It was really nice. She's an excellent cook. And we had a nice conversation. Again, no flirting on my part. I wasn't making any move, just being friendly.

"Same thing the next day. We just had lunch, and again she made something for me. Again, we had a nice conversation. I enjoyed her company, she seemed to enjoy mine. Again, I promise you I was not making any moves, trying anything. I told her about you, the kids - I even showed her pictures."

I took a deep breath. I suppose I was letting her know that the story was entering a new phase.

"The next day was Friday, the last day of the fair. I got to the spot with my lunch - and I actually got her something to eat too, a gyro, just to reciprocate - and that's when I knew I may have misread things. She was already there and she'd gone all out to make it special. She had a full picnic basket. She'd laid a blanket on the ground, and she'd done herself up like she was going out on a date that she wanted to end up in bed."

I could see Linda hyperventilating.

"She was so beautiful, I couldn't speak, and she knew it. She didn't put much make-up because she didn't need to. She just had gloss on her lips and something on her eyes. She wore this wrap sundress with no bra.

"It felt wrong just sitting and eating with her, like I was betraying you because of where my mind was going. Because I knew that was where she wanted my mind to go. She kept playing with her hair, touching me, leaning over so I could see her breasts, that her nipples were hard. That, crazy as it was, she wanted me...ordinary, run-of-the-mill me."

I smiled at the memory, no longer feeling so guilty at enjoying it so much. It wasn't intentional, that smile, but Linda looked stricken by it, and I felt no need to take it off my face.

"I was so hard by the end of that little picnic, and she knew it," I continued, "I had to hide behind a tree for a while to get down before I could go back to work. She actually sang to me, if you can believe it. She has a lovely voice. That was how she give me her number. It was already ridiculously easy to remember, but I think she deliberately sang it to me to make sure I could never forget it.

"She could have had me there, I think. But she didn't press it. To be honest, I didn't want her to. I was flattered, turned on beyond belief, and it felt amazing to be wanted like that, by someone so gorgeous, but I loved you too much and she respected my boundaries."

Linda was crying now. "Please, Jim, stop."

But I wasn't done. Far from it.

"Anyway, nothing happened on that Friday. I knew she was disappointed, but she gave me a kiss on the cheek and told me she would miss me and our lunches together. Her apartment and her pattiserie are on the other side of the city. And that was that. Or so I thought."

I looked at my wife's pale face and trembling lips and continued my tale.

"The next Monday, I had lunch at my desk. Too much to do. Same thing on Tuesday. On Wednesday, it was overcast, so I was going to stay indoors. Then I got a call from the security desk saying that I had a visitor. I go downstairs and it's her. Everyone was staring at her because she'd gone all out - even though she didn't need to - to look amazing again."

I knew I had Linda's full attention. Her shoulders were raised, her body tense as if waiting for a hammer blow.