Characters:
Husband: Dr John Fletcher (54).
Wife: Dr Lauren Fletcher (nee Stockbridge) (36).
Ex-Wife: Caroline Fletcher (51).
Former student: Daniel Reynolds (38).
Statue: Michael Faraday (230).
History: My version of a continuation to "Lucky Man," by DeYaKen published in 2015. I have contacted the Author and have his blessing. His only criteria, "be consistent with the characters." Which I have attempted to do. I strongly suggest the reader review the original story to understand this addition. However, there is a short summary below.
Back story:
John Fletcher, a College lecturer, is happily married to Caroline, a charity organiser for Children's Services. Their adult children Ross and Jamie, have moved out and are studying at University. John realises Caroline has been having an affair with the head of Children's Services, MP. Roger Dewey. John is involved in a car accident and barely survives. The hospital's emergency room doctor tells John he's a <em>Lucky Man</em>. John quits his University job and starts working for Mumford Labs on Bionic arm research. Caroline ends her affair. Rather than divorce, they separate but remain married. Part 2 picks up some seven years later with John and his assistant Lauren guest speakers at The Institute of Engineering Technology on the latest Bionic arm research. Former student Daniel attends with Caroline. John and Caroline share dinner where she seduces him in her hotel room, endeavouring to rekindle their marriage. John contemplates Caroline's proposal. But after a dream realises he cannot trust her fidelity, so they divorce. John and Lauren married. Lauren supplies the wedding rings saying, "Tungsten is incredibly strong that's the kind of marriage I want." Two years later. John is now lecturing part-time at University, while Lauren finalises Bionic arm research.
Author: My part of the story picks up about a year later. Lauren and Daniel are now doing bionic leg research for Mumford Labs. John has become known as "the man who made the bionic arm."
Editor: Every time I reread this story, I found another small change. Thankfully 1moeannie came to my aid, finding missed spelling and grammatical errors and plot inconsistencies. Thanks, Annie. All other mistakes are mine.
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Johns story:
Over the last three years, Lauren, now thirty-six, protests that she is a career woman and can do without children to complicate her life. Claiming her research on human bionics comes first. However, I have noticed small changes to her personality over the last six months, which refute her claim, <em>not wanting children</em>. I am now teaching full time on Human Bionics at the University. This time around, I'm thoroughly enjoying the challenge with students interested in new technology. Daniel was employed to work full time with Lauren on her research for a fully functioning bionic leg at Mumford Labs. I'm acting as a consultant, overseeing Lauren and Daniels' project.
I have not seen hide-nor-hair of my ex-wife, Caroline, for the past three years, even though she lives close by in Cambridge. Of course, I have seen newspaper stories of her success and wish her well.
Most nights, Lauren is home by eight. Full of news about the day's research and testing. Lauren and I sit at the dinner table discussing the latest details late into the night.
But tonight, she rings at seven to tell me Daniel has conceived a new RC digital filtering algorithm for sensor data. So they are going to carry on working late into the night. If necessary, she will sleep in a fold-out camp stretcher in the office.
Around one in the morning, I wake. Lauren is not beside me. She must still be working. Now I'm awake and cannot get back to sleep. So I decided to visit them at the Laboratory. Grabbing a bottle of her favourite wine, I pick up two takeaway pizzas on the way.
As I walk into the lab, I can hear her moaning. Without even looking, I knew what's happening. Walking to the corner of her office, I peek through the open doorway.
Lauren's lying on her back, on the camp bed. Daniel is between her widely spread legs, pants around his ankles. Her knickers still wrapped around one of her trim legs. She is softly moaning. Daniel is grunting with each stroke. His head in the crook of her neck, arms bent supporting his weight. Her arms are wrapped around his shoulders, hands on the back of his neck, holding him in a tight embrace.
<em>It looks like my luck has just run out.</em>
I watch them for a while, not as a voyeur. Realising this is the way it should have been three years ago when I pushed them together that fateful night, sending them off to watch the Lion King.
I quietly put the pizza box and wine on the shelf next to the door. I start to remove the Tungsten wedding ring when Lauren looks over to see me standing there. She freezes, drawing in a sharp breath, holding it. Daniel looks up to see what's wrong, turning his head to see what she is looking at.
"Lauren, as you know, Tungsten is very strong. However, did you also know Tungsten is quite brittle, known to shatter on impact? Closing my hand into a fist, I punched the steel filing cabinet, using my ringer finger to make contact. The ring shatters into pieces falling to the floor. Picking them up, I place them on the pizza box lid.
I move out of the doorway and into the laboratory room, giving them a chance to get dressed.
As they enter the lab, tears of guilt and regret are running down Lauren's cheeks. Daniel's face shows betrayal at his actions.
In a faltering voice, "You two looked perfect for each other this is how it should have been three years ago. Please don't say a word, let me finish, or I will lose it."
"I have noticed Lauren, your moods have changed over the past nine months. I've seen this pattern before with Caroline, just before we started having children. I think it's called the 'ticking biological clock syndrome'. Lauren, you need to become a mother. Daniel should take on the responsibility of getting you pregnant."
The pair are in a tight embrace. Lauren is quietly sobbing, her head pressed against Daniels's chest. Her eyes are closed, tears running down her cheeks. Daniel's head is downcast; he cannot look me in the eye.
As a final word, "Lauren, our time together has come to an end. Please treat each other well. I do not want to see either of you again. If nothing else, continue and succeed with the Bionic leg research for me."
I turn and leave the room.
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Arriving home, I mull over the past three years of my marriage. I don't regret the time, but
all the same, I think our marriage, was most probably doomed from the beginning. I was always too old for Lauren. Other than the Bionic research, we had little in common. While Lauren and I knew each other's moods after working together for seven years, it was not a good foundation for a marriage. And I should have known better.
Daniel and Lauren will make a good couple. Being of similar age, they both have good work ethics. Only good can come out of their union. Whether Daniel had become infatuated with Lauren, and she likewise, being attracted to him. Both are young career-orientated people.
The following day I start packing all my clothing, realising I need a new place to stay. Then I remember there is a fully furnished flat to rent just down the road. Walking to the real estate sign, I call the number, explaining I need to move in today. I'm, told a salesperson will be there in twenty minutes. By the time twenty minutes are up, I have half a dozen boxes of clothing, books and papers sitting outside the flat door.
With lease papers signed by lunchtime, keys in hand by three in the afternoon, I have moved in. Sending a text message to Lauren explaining I have moved out. The house is hers to do with as she wishes, move in or move out. My solicitor will be in contact with divorce papers shortly.
I don't know how I felt at that moment, certainly anger, sadness, definitely betrayal. For the second time in my life, I wondered, "why do I feel so empty inside?" After all, Lauren didn't want something soft and weak like gold as a symbol of her marriage. She wanted something hard and incredibly strong. Declaring, "when I get married, we're having Tungsten rings." <em>No, I just felt depressed.</em>
A day later, I exit my flat on a fine spring morning, deciding to walk to the University as it's only a short distance away. There is only a month before the semester is over. I noticed a moving truck outside of our old home.
A little old lady who is my new next-door neighbour is watering her garden and looks up with sad eyes. "Another marriage has gone wrong," she exclaims. "He was too old for her; it was only a matter of time before she found someone younger, but it's still sad for both of them."
Unable to speak, I watch the truck slowly, being loaded, with the furniture we both purchased only a few years ago. Tears start running down my cheeks. The old lady's words cut deep.
Delayed emotions start to overwhelm me. I cannot stop the tears flowing down my cheeks like a burst dam. In my office, I start crying out loud. My secretary tries to give words of comfort to no avail. During my lecture, midway through, tears start running down my cheeks again. Making out, I have a cold using my handkerchief to wipe them away. At the end of the lecture, there are usually a few students who ask questions, but none today. Word has spread of Lauren and my separation.
Over the coming weeks, things go from bad to worse. I lock myself in my office, refusing to talk to any post-doctoral students for fear of bursting into tears. Rumours spread; I'm supposedly having a nervous breakdown. The vice-Chancellor has words with me. He promises to help remedy the situation with counselling, but in the end, does nothing. I have become a lost soul, pushing everyone away and now have no one to talk to; <em>and it's only getting worse</em>.
Sitting at my desk after the vice-Chancellor's final warning. He suggests I take the summer off and get counselling. The University cannot have a repeat of last month's chaos. Thankfully the semester has only a week to go.
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Caroline continues the story.
John's elbows rest on the desk, his head down between his hands, tears dripping onto the desktop blotting paper. He didn't notice as I entered the room. But notices my perfume and gentle hand on his shoulder. Looking up into my face, he bursts into a fit of tears, becoming inconsolable.
I hug him tightly until he slowly brings himself under control. Pulling him from the chair, I guided him childlike through the University to my car. I drive to my flat. Once in the bedroom, I stripped him to his underwear. Pushing him onto the bed then pulling the bedding over him. I strip to my bra and panties and slip in with him. Resting, my head on his chest. Laying my knee on his hip, he automatically puts his arm around my shoulder, his hand resting on my breast.
He falls into a deep fitful sleep, calling out Lauren's name several times. I was surprised when he cried out my name at one point. I, for my part, cannot sleep, just cuddling him as he moves around the bed in various sleeping positions.