Mary just stared at me, grabbed her suitcase and headed to the door and down the stairs. I followed. As she approached the front door, she put the suitcase down and turned to me and told me that Tim would be here in a few minutes, and she asked that I not make a scene.
"I wasn't going to. You can leave any time you want. You were only bound to me by love, if that is gone, then you are free." Yeah, I heard how corny it was as soon as I said it. But she looked deep into my eyes when I said it.
"Mary, I don't know if there is anything left to save at this point, but if you stay, I will try."
She picked up the suitcase, told me to stay inside, and she waited for Tim outside. Tim showed up moments later and I watched the love of my life leave me from the living room window.
Her asshole lover decided on a display of his peacock masculinity by spinning his wheels as he peeled out with my wife by his side.
I walked over to my couch and sat down, put my head in my hands and wept.
After a bit, I called Mary's mom and explained what happened. By the time the conversation had ended, Mary's mom was sobbing. I expect she was crying for me in part, more for her two granddaughters, but mostly for her daughter.
I then called the divorce lawyer.
Mary's Story
When I first received Tim's email, I was so excited. It was innocent enough at first. He told me that he had been thinking of me and of all the good times we had together and asked if I'd like to catch up. Our reminiscences soon turned to "what ifs." Then to flirting. He asked for a photo, and I sent him a recent one. He asked for more, and I sent him more. He praised how I had retained my youthful appearance, how fit I appeared. He asked for something more risqué. I started sending him nudes.
He told me we needed to get together. He said he had a business reason to come to my town, and he'd love to take me out and maybe spend some time together afterwards. "Not only to catch up, but maybe even reconnect." I knew exactly what he meant.
By this point every free moment was spent dwelling on the memories of our relationship. We met at college. He came from money, lots of it. He had a very nice apartment off campus. I had a small dorm room. My folks helped some, but most of my college was paid for with loans. He was charming and very handsome. He was my first long-term, serious relationship, and my first satisfying sexual partner. I knew I was attractive. A great figure, long, silky hair, a perfect complexion, all of which took a lot of work on my part. And so, I had my pick of boyfriends, and he was always my clear first choice. And he did an excellent job of wining and dining me. And the sex was good and often.
I moved in with Tim a month after we met. We spent almost every minute together we weren't in class. We hung out together. We studied together. We ate every meal together. We were both truly and fully besotted. I had visions of our future together and it was a thing we talked about. But our fire burned too intensely. It started when Tim joined a study group for one of his classes about ten months in. Every evening he would disappear to join a study class. That went on for only a few weeks before one morning, as I was getting ready to head for class, he unceremoniously announced that he needed me to move out, that he needed to "move on." It turned out his study group was another girl.
During our email relationship, the topic came up, and Tim described what happened as his greatest regret of his life, that it was a self-destructive and immature act to have walked away from his soulmate to chase what amounted to fluff. Hearing him described me as his soulmate made my heart soar. I began to believe in fairy tale romances.
Later, when Tim asked if I might be able to give him a night together, if I might slip the coils of marriage to have a single night of passion, to taste once more what we once had, the idea did not repulse me. As the exchange went on, he started to push all the right buttons. He validated my own musings that we were meant for each other. He validated my fantasy that we would live happily ever after. More than a single night of passion, I was ready to change my life.
The odd thing was that I didn't really hate my life. I loved my husband. He was a good man, dependable, reliable, gentle and with a good sense of humor and pleasant to be with. I loved my children. I had a good job. Sure, things were routine, the kids wore on my patience, housework was tiring, even though Jack helped a lot. Sometimes work was stressful, especially since my new supervisor was a toxic curmudgeon. But all in all, I had no complaints about my life. And what was the harm of dreaming, of fantasizing. Nothing Tim and I were chatting about could ever come true.
Until it did.
It was Monday morning, and I was at work. Tim emailed me asking for my phone number and called me immediately. He would be in my town on Wednesday and asked me to run away with him. I agreed to meet. He gave me the details. He said after a dinner, we'd go up to his room in the hotel and "discuss things." I told him I was tempted. His response was that there wasn't that much to think about, we were meant for each other. I knew he was right, but I still asked for time.
I hung up and immediately knew what I was going to do, I was going to betray Jack and my marriage and risk my family for a chance to be with the love of my life one more time. And maybe, just maybe, I was going to change my life and live out my fantasy fairy tale.
I needed to figure out a way to pull this off without Jack finding out, in case this was just going to be a one and done. The solution I came up with was simpler was better. I would tell Jack as much of the truth as possible, a meeting with an old friend to catch up. Jack trusted me, and even if he objected, he loved me so much that he would be able to get over it. It would only be a time management problem, how to get in as much loving in during the time of a simple meal and a couple of hours of reminiscences.
And if we decided to just run off together, I needed to work it so that there would be no confrontation. I did not want to watch poor Jack suffer the pain of betrayal.
The next evening, when I broke the news to Jack, he was not pleased. He asked me not to go. I accused him of being weak and insecure and lied, saying Jack would be my only lover.
The next morning, I learned of the flaw in my plan. He told me of overhearing my telling a friend that I still had a thing for Tim. I didn't talk about our hooking up or possibly running off together, only told her that he was the one who got away. I shouldn't have, but I couldn't help myself, it just came bubbling out. Jack had kept that to himself until I told him that Tim was in town and was taking me out for us to catch up. When he threw that conversation at me, I knew he had figured this out, all I could do now was minimize the confrontation.
He was not angry, but something else, a sadness. I would have preferred anger. It would have been easier to deal with. But instead, he was mourning the pending death of our life together.
I knew I was hurting a truly decent man, a truly good and loving human being.
But this was not going to be about him, this was going to be about me. I had a right to capture my dream.
I took the afternoon off. Jack was now completely out of my mind. I would be out of the house before Jack returned from work, so nothing would bring me down from my big evening.
First, I bought a sexy outfit for tonight. I really needed to make the right impression. I even bought some sexy underwear, no sense him seeing me in anything but the best light.
I was home by 3. Jack wouldn't be home until 6. I had just enough time to get out before Jack came in. The plan was to meet up with Tim at the restaurant in his hotel at 6. He had agreed to an early dinner to allow us more time to "reminisce" in his room. I laid out what I wanted to wear and then took my shower. After showering, I came out of the bathroom only to find Jack standing next to the bed, staring at me.
I hadn't expected that. Looking at the sexy clothes, he knew what was up, and he even taunted me with sarcasm. I could tell he was hurting. I didn't want to hurt him, but it was the cost of me getting to live the life I dreamed of.
I should have been tender at this point, but instead, I responded to his sarcasm and accused him of having a filthy mind. He let me dress in private, and as I went to leave, he gently pleaded with me to stay, offering to try to fix whatever was broken with us. This plea was not desperate, it was resigned. He seemed aware of the futility of it all. I guess he still needed to try. His plea showed just how hurt he was. I did not respond and turned my back on this gentle soul.
As soon as I left, I was able to put Jack and 20 years of marriage out of my mind and focus on the thrill ahead. I arrived early at the restaurant, too early to expect to find Tim. The restaurant was mostly empty, and I asked the hostess if I could be seated early even though my friend would not be there for at least twenty minutes. The hostess agreed. I ordered a glass of wine and waited.
Tim showed up in only ten minutes and was delighted that I came early. He complimented me on my appearance, telling me that I looked exactly like I had more than two decades ago. I explained that my husband had shown up at the house early and begged me not to leave him. Jack knew our marriage was at risk and that our dinner was not innocent. Tim quietly assured me that such unpleasantness with Jack would soon be in the past. The soothing tone of his voice, the way he gently held my hand and looked me in the eye, caused any the anxiety and guilt I felt evaporate.
We had a bottle of wine with our meal, and a bottle of champagne afterwards. I was a bit giggly heading up to his room. I felt like a college sophomore again. As soon as we were in his room, our clothes came off. He laid me on the bed and immediately entered me. I was already so wet that foreplay had occurred by simply being near each other. Our love making started out with a passion that overwhelmed the both of us and a fury entered into our actions. He soon flipped me over and I was on top dancing on his cock. I came. He had me dismount and then had me on all fours and entered me from behind. I came again. Then again, but with an orgasm so strong that it recalled sex I hadn't had in many a year. He came as I climaxed.
We laid in each other's arms for twenty minutes when it suddenly occurred to me that if I wanted to even try to pretend that this encounter was an innocent reunion of two old friends I had better get home. I started to get up and told Tim it was best I get dressed and head for home if I wanted to save my marriage. Sure, he said, but before you go, I have fantasized for so long about your wonderful oral skills, please, allow me this treat.]
