Self-Discovery Tre

Part I - The Buildup

"Eek," I involuntarily screamed. No, it wasn't a mouse. It was my cheating husband Winthrop having sex in my bedroom with some bimbo. I burst into tears and fell to my knees. Apparently the slut had cleared out by the time that I raised my weepy eyes from my hands as that bastard Winthrop was trying to comfort me, because I no longer saw - or smelled - her.

"I'm sorry, Pumpkin," the cheater mumbled, stroking my hair, "it was just..."

"Spare me!" I shrieked. "You promised, never again - you have less integrity than you have respect for me," I moaned, my tears still flowing.

*****

Yeah, this wasn't the first time that I caught him cheating on me - and who knows how many times he cheated when I didn't catch him.

Why do I put up with it?

Good question.

I guess it all has to do with my lack of self-confidence, my poor self-image, and how I was raised. He makes me feel like I'm sexually inadequate, a blob of protoplasm rather than a sexual being, and that I need to do everything possible to court his favor, including putting up with his infidelity.

*****

I'm a poor little rich girl. I have been over-protected my entire life. When you're constantly pampered and not allowed to learn from mistakes and are always sheltered from all the bad things in life, you either get to be a spoiled brat, or get to be someone with a poor self-image and lack of confidence who's always trying to please other people. I'm in the latter category.

Winthrop was from the right type of family - namely a trust fund guy who never worked a day of manual labor in his life - so my family encouraged me to marry him. He is handsome and charming, but I don't think that I ever felt real love for him - certainly not at the stage of my life when I caught him cheating for the third time.

I'm not sure that he ever loved me, either, I was just in the right social class and available. Actually, I think that the only person or thing that he loves - besides himself - is his 1931 Bugatti Type 41 Royale Kellner. According to the classic car magazines that he subscribes to there were only six ever produced, and only four are known to still be in existence. It is supposedly worth more than $9,000,000. Despite his trust fund he never could have afforded it, but he inherited it from his grandfather. Through outright fraud - carefully removing many pieces of original equipment and replacing them with cheap substitutes prior to an independent valuation of his "baby" - and by "creative" maneuvering by his tax attorney, Winthrop ended up paying only about $100,000 inheritance tax on it. He cheated the government out of at least $2,000,000.

Winthrop maintains that his Bugatti is in the best condition of the remaining four in existence. The only insurance policy he was able to get on it, from Lloyds of London, specifies that it does not cover driving it on anything except a closed course. Winthrop doesn't consider himself bound by other people's rules or expectations, however, as his philandering attests to, so every Sunday he takes it for a drive on local roads. He does take precautions, however; he has either friends or servants drive a lead SUV and a trailing pick-up truck along with him to "protect" his baby.

Being about tenth place in Winthrop's life - way behind a hunk of metal - was now constantly preying on my mind after my third horrific witnessing of his total lack of respect for me. So I did what I normally did when in despair. I called my friend Joyce and her husband David.

*****

Joyce and David are both top notch lawyers, much smarter than I am. Both are driven, highly self-confident people. I often have aspired to be like them.

Joyce and I were friends in college, before she gained the high level of self-confidence that she exhibits now. I helped her past a personal crisis when we were freshmen and a monetary one when she was a sophomore, first using my compassion and then my money. She has been my most devoted friend since then. She was my Maid of Honor when I married Winthrop seven years ago, and we are closer than most sisters.

David was one of Winthrop's groomsmen - and the only one not from a filthy rich family. I had never met him before wedding plans were being made, but I instantly liked him. He's a truly genuine guy, which later made me wonder how he could ever have been friends with Winthrop.

Joyce and David hit it off in the lead up to my wedding, and really clicked at the reception. They got married about six months later.

Winthrop doesn't like Joyce. He initially found her distasteful because even though she was just in law school at the time she insisted that he and I sign a prenuptial agreement, and that we maintain our finances separately during marriage. He finally agreed to it when she pointed out that if he inherited the Bugatti from his old and infirm grandfather without a prenup I would have a claim to half of it. So, as a result, my finances and Winthrop's have always been separate, including filing separate tax returns (I would have refused to sign his fraudulent inheritance tax form if we didn't). While the mansion we lived in was mine, and I have paid essentially all of the household expenses; everything else has been separate.

Now Winthrop's main problem with Joyce is that she doesn't take any grief from him and obtains great satisfaction from putting him in his place.

Although David started out as Winthrop's buddy he is now much more my friend than he is Winthrop's. The main reason is because David doesn't like the way that Winthrop treats me. David is always kind and compassionate. Winthrop finds it hard to understand how David can be as sensitive as he is.

David was the sole groomsman at my wedding that not only wasn't from a filthy rich family, but was not a "pretty boy;" not that he isn't good looking, mind you. He just has a face that is craggy and filled with character rather than symmetry. Plus, he is big and strong and has a truly outstanding body. When I host pool parties, or attend those hosted by mutual friends, I have to be very careful to wear wrap around mirrored sunglasses so that I don't get caught ogling David. He is the only man that I had fantasized about during my first seven years of marriage, not only because of his chiseled physique but because he has more integrity in one finger than Winthrop has in his entire body.

I have told Joyce enough times how lucky she is to have David that she has figured out that I have a crush on him. The nice thing is that since Joyce is the opposite of me - she is completely secure and self-confident - it doesn't bother her in the least. In fact she keeps on telling me that I can find my own David if I dump the albatross around my neck - namely Winthrop. I haven't had the moxie, character, confidence, or whatever else it takes, to do that, however.

So when I made yet another desperate call to Joyce and David they again agreed to meet me at the normal place that we commiserate, a little cottage that I owned on a nearby lake.

*****

I almost got in several accidents driving the ten miles from my mansion to the cottage because I was so distraught. As usual I was wallowing in self-pity when David's car pulled up. I was surprised when only David came into the cottage, however.

"Where's Joyce?" I inquired after giving him a too-long-to-be- appropriate hug.

"We decided that it would be best if I came alone," he replied with a serious look. "There is something that we decided earlier this week that we need to tell you about, and Joyce felt that it was better if I broke the news alone. Also, I need to have a no-no-nonsense talk with you about your asshole husband, and we felt it better if Joyce wasn't around to temper it."

I was flabbergasted, and anxious. "What's your news?" I stammered out.

"Let's sit down," David said. He sat down on the only couch and I went to sit next to him, but he grabbed me and sat me on his lap.

"Joyce and I have an opportunity to join a start-up law firm on the West Coast. We'll be able to work together and with people that we like and know well from law school, and we will have a real emphasis on pro bono work and helping people with legitimate causes rather than the undeserving corporations that we do now. We decided two days ago to jump at the opportunity. Monday we'll be giving our one month notice to the big old-fart law firms that we work for now, and will have moved by six weeks from today," he grimly informed me.

"No, you can't," I sobbed, as I buried my head in his shoulder and cried. "You two are my rocks - I can't get by without you."

"Yes you can, Candace," he repeated several times in soothing tones as he stroked my head. "Plus, before we leave, we're going to help you like we should have before. We have a parting gift for you."

"I...I...don't understand," I hesitantly replied, stifling my tears.

"We've been a sounding board for you in the past and have offered shoulders to cry on because we love you," David responded, staring into my eyes. "Instead of comforting you and sympathizing with you, however, what we should have been doing was helping you to remake yourself. Giving you the guts to do what you have to do - the fortitude to take control of your life, to get out from the shelter of your money and your over-protective family, and to dump that asshole husband of yours. You need to be tough, not the wimp that you are now."

I was really taken aback. I started to cry again, and tried to stand up. David held me on his lap with his strong arms so that I couldn't move more than an inch, and let me cry for the next five minutes, as he occasionally gently shook me and said "Snap out of it and listen to me."

I finally gained my composure. He held me tight as he once again stared into my eyes.

"Joyce and I are enrolling you in a women's adventure and fitness boot camp located about twenty miles from here. You'll be starting next Monday, and you'll be required to stay overnight for three weeks. Either Joyce or I will visit you for the one hour every night that you can receive visitors. Winthrop will not be informed of your whereabouts, and the camp will have instructions not to admit him if he finds out."

I had a blank stare on my face. David pinched my butt, smiled and asked "Are you listening."

"Uh, well, yes...but..." I timidly replied before he cut me off.

"I'm not done," he barked. "After that Joyce, you and I are going to sit down and plan a trip for you. A journey of self-discovery. You're going to be on your own, with no one who knows you. You're going to have to make all your own decisions, deal with crises on your own - and when you're done you'll be the self-confident, good self-image person that you should have been since High School."

"But, David,..." I stammered; "I don't think that I can do that."

"You'll have to in order to survive, because Joyce and I won't be around to hold your hand and buck you up anymore. You can do it, and you will, or we'll be out of your life forever," he sternly replied.

I looked down and tears were about to fall again when he lifted my chin up. "When you get back from your journey of self-discovery - as a new, self-confident woman - you'll do what you should have done years ago. You'll shed your philandering husband and find someone to love you the way that you deserve to be loved."

"I...don't...know...if I can do that," I whimpered.

"The present day Candace can't," he snorted, "but the future Candace will do it just fine."

I again dropped my head. He once more lifted up my chin. "Candace, if I weren't happily married and committed to Joyce I could fall for you in a second. You're beautiful, sexy, kind, charitable, compassionate, and wonderful in every way. You just have to stop trying to please everyone else and get some guts and stand up for yourself."

Those words almost took my breath away. I then came very close to fainting when David emphasized what he had just said by pulling me to him and planting on my lips the most passionate kiss that I had ever received in my life while at the same time he massaged one of my boobs.

When he finally let me breathe he again gazed into my eyes and said "Someone with your beautiful face, big tits, high character, and spectacular personality needs to be worshipped, not disrespected." Then he planted another lip lock on me as me manipulated my boob some more. I wouldn't have believed him except that his penis was trying to poke a hole in my butt it was so big and hard.

I was woozy when he stood up while he still held me in his arms, and carried me to his car as he said "Now we're going to see Joyce at the camp, where she's enrolling you as we speak, and plan your future."

I was so out of it that David had to seat belt me into his car's front passenger seat. David talked to me most of the way to the boot camp, but to be honest I couldn't really tell you what he said. My brain was completely muddled. It was like I was in a dream more than reality. I think that I did converse with David as we drove along, but I don't remember even one thing that we talked about.

*****

When we got to the camp the first thing that I saw was Joyce's smiling face. She gave me a big hug, and I squeezed her tight. "Did David plant one on you and grab your boobs?" she whispered as we embraced. "He's wanted to do that for a long time and I told him to go for it."

"Uh, well, uh...yes, uh, he did," I mumbled, still holding her tightly so she couldn't see the shocked look on my face since, if possible, I was now even more bewildered than before.

Joyce pushed me away, laughed, and said "Let's go see your home for the next three weeks." David and Joyce each grabbed an arm and led me into the camp director's office.

After my meeting at and inspection of the camp I was even more apprehensive than when David first brought the idea up. I didn't think that there was any way that I could stick it out, and sure didn't want another failure on my "life's resume."

Joyce and David didn't give me much opportunity to get cold feet. They drove me back to my car, and then Joyce rode with me back to my mansion to gather some clothes both for camp and to spend the time until camp started with them.

When we got to Joyce and David's house David presented me with a formal separation agreement, calling for Winthrop and me to split up for six months, starting immediately. They coerced me into signing it and David assured me that he would file it with the local Family Court on Monday when Joyce was taking me to boot camp.

I was on autopilot the entire weekend. Winthrop called me several times. I talked to him, but when I did either David or Joyce held my hand, and with their help I gained the strength to refuse to return home "Until I come to grips with some things." Winthrop made his normal promises not to cheat on me again, but for the first time I was able to convince myself that it was just another one of his lies and wasn't duped into believing him.

I barely slept Sunday night. I was really restless thinking about the next three weeks. I was like a zombie when Joyce drove me to the camp. I tried to back out but she was having none of it. She walked me into the director's office, I surrendered my cellphone to her, she gave me a big hug, and she assured me that David would be by to see me during the visiting hour at 8 p. m. that night.

The first day of boot camp was hell. It was humiliating, dirty, sweaty, and just plain hard. Most of my fellow campers needed to lose weight, and like me all of them had self-image problems and needed to get in better shape. Before the first day of camp I thought that I was in pretty decent physical condition, but I was in what the camp drill sergeant, Joan, derisively called "treadmill" shape, not "real life" condition.

When David visited me the first night I was exhausted. I barely understood him as he explained how he had filed the separation agreement, had it served on Winthrop, and stonewalled Winthrop about my whereabouts when he frantically called David when he couldn't get ahold of me. David gave me a kiss on the forehead and squeezed my hand when he left, and promised that Joyce would be by to see me the next night.

I was so tired and distracted that I forgot to ask David how his and Joyce's notices were received by the partners at their old-fart law firms.

Every day I was on the verge of throwing in the towel. The only things that kept me going were that I didn't want to disappoint Joyce and David, and I was fortified by their nightly pep talks. Then a monkey wrench got thrown into my coping machine. The campers had to go on a six day adventure into the wilderness so that I could not have my daily warm encouragement from Joyce or David.

The wilderness trip was beyond horrible. Every part of my body ached, I developed cuts and bruises on every appendage, and I vomited every day. By the time that I returned from my little backwoods sojourn I had made up my mind to quit, even though there were only eight days left. However, I didn't get my packing completed by the time that Joyce came for her visit.

"I've got to quit, Joyce," I sobbed. "I just can't take it anymore. I'm weak and worthless."

"Bullshit," she barked, while at the same time she gently squeezed my hands. "I can tell that you're both physically and mentally stronger than when you started - I mean you actually have muscle definition now. Look," she said while pointing at my bicep.

There was muscle there - I hadn't noticed. It wasn't enough to change my mind.

I went back and forth with Joyce until finally she said "Your ability to stick with your decision to quit actually makes the best case possible for you to continue," she said, leaning back in her chair. "When have you ever been that forceful in standing up for yourself?" she asked.

I thought for a second. She was right. It wasn't enough to convince me to go through another eight days of hell, however.

"You may be right," I said while crossing my arms, "but I'm leaving."

"Is there anything that would make you stay?" she asked, crossing her own arms.

I just raised my eyebrows and nonchalantly responded "I don't know what!"

After a long pause a diabolical grin appeared on her face. "How about a night with David?"

"What?" I blurted out. She laughed. I sneered :"That's not funny."

"We both know that you have a crush on him," she snickered, "and if I asked him to he'd fuck you in a heartbeat."

"What?" was my intelligent response.

"Got your attention, don't I?" she giggled.

"Stop teasing me," I screamed, stomping my foot, and causing the other campers and their visitors to stare at me. "You're being mean," I mumbled under my breath after the others looked away.

"I'm neither teasing nor being mean," she said with a straight face. "If you not only make it through the next eight days, but if the camp director gives you a bronze star, I'll ask David to spend the night with you."

A "bronze star" was an award given by the camp to those campers that the director felt fulfilled at least 90% of their self-improvement goals.

I just sat and stared at Joyce, not knowing what to say. Virtually every night during camp I had gone to sleep with the recollection of how David's kisses and hands had titillated me foremost in my mind.

After a long pause where we just stared at each other with our arms folded Joyce finally spoke. "You do what you want, and I'll support you; but I'm begging you not to quit and I'm dead serious about my offer. If you get a bronze star I'll reserve the hotel room for you and David myself and I'll tell him that I want him to satisfy you the way he thoroughly satisfies me."

With that she stood up, gave me a big hug, and left without another word.

My mind started playing ping pong.