I tried to keep this a close to real as I could and I thank you for taking the time read at least this far.
There is no sex in this and it is not a BTB story but it isn't one of those twisted cuck stories either.
For the record, I have no problem with people that have open marriages. I prefer monogamy but if I did have an open marriage it would be equitable (I'm all about equity) - if my wife gets to fuck around, so do I and I'll always demand and give a measure of respect.
Any relationship that is based on the humiliation and degradation of one or other of the spouses is, in my opinion, sick and doomed.
If you are a cuckold or cuckold story lover, please move along now. Don't read this and then complain to me later - based on your lifestyle choices I won't take your criticism seriously anyway.
For the rest of you, I hope you enjoy the story and constructive criticism is always welcome.
****
This was a nice restaurant. I had always liked it; enjoyed the atmosphere, the food and the acoustics. So many restaurants these days go for that unfinished ceiling look which kills the acoustics and magnifies and bounces the noise levels to the point where you can't really enjoy a relaxing dinner conversation.
This was an old house that had been converted into an upscale steak house. The individual rooms had been left intact such that there are 7 separate dining areas on two levels each hosting about 6 tables nicely spaced to provide a nice degree of intimacy.
It was a great place for a romantic dinner. Unfortunately tonight I was not enjoying a romantic dinner.
I was having dinner with my wife, Sarah.
She and I were seated at a table in one of the lower level dining rooms and she was fidgeting; rarely looking at me, nervous and frightened but I could also see determination.
I had barely spoken a word since arriving here and only what had been necessary to be seated and order drinks. As I perused the menu trying to decide between the Blackberry Filet or the Beef Tenderloin Tornadoes in a Bordelaise sauce I took a pull on my single malt on the rocks and regarded my wife.
She was still a physically beautiful woman, smart, successful and until recently a woman who I would have died for.
But I had no passion left for her anymore.
She wasn't aware of the change in my attitude but I would ruin her plans for this evening with that tidbit of news among others.
"John?"
That's me, John Archer Boyle. Forty nine years old and a reasonably successful software account executive married 28 years to the stranger now seated opposite me.
"Yes, Sarah?" I sighed quietly.
"I...I wanted to talk with you about something..."
"Well, that will make a pleasant change, Sarah."
She eyed me with a little perturbation twisting her mouth in annoyance. I hoped my attitude would resolve her nerves and get her to finally spit out what I knew she wanted.
"Yes, well thank you for your sarcasm, John it has always endeared me to you."
"Thank you, Sarah but I wasn't being sarcastic in that instance."
I didn't elaborate. I held her stare taking another pull on my scotch until she looked off to the left and watched our waiter approaching.
I didn't wait for the "lady" to order first as I normally would have. Instead as he gained the table I handed him my menu and ordered the blackberry filet with a Spanish rice.
Sarah, discomfited by my obvious disregard for gentility, scanned her menu quickly before deciding on a salad.
Who orders a salad at an award winning steak house?
With the waiter gone, Sarah again fixed me with her gaze.
"John, I have been thinking a lot lately. About you, about me, well, about us and... I...well I wanted to discuss my thoughts with you."
"There is, by God's grace, an immeasurable difference between late and too late." I replied
"Excuse me?" Sarah enquired
"A day late and a dollar short?" I sighed "You were always willing to holler down the rain, Sarah. Holler away!"
"You are being less than helpful, John. I am serious!"
"What did you want to talk about, Sarah?"
"Ah, well...I...there's really no easy way to say this."
I slowly rotated my glass, whisking the condensation up and away with my thumb and finger on either side of the glass as I turned it.
"Just say what's on your mind."
"Well, I...I want to try a period of separation" she gushed out "nothing permanent, John. Just an opportunity for me to explore my thoughts further. I'll get an apart..."
"No."
She suddenly looked directly at me, shocked. A wisp of her blonde hair falling in her face as she jerked her head up too quickly for it to remain contained.
"Excuse me? What do you mean 'no'? A separation would be good for us. It would help me fall back in love with you and..."
"Sarah, I don't want you to fall back in love with me."
I smiled. Not a smile of love or triumph or of condescension but an endearing smile. A smile you might use to humor a child arguing passionately for another ten minutes of games before bed.
"I have no patience for your trying to justify your bad behavior, Sarah. You want a separation so you can explore things with my replacement. So, which came first? The falling out of love with me, or the permission you gave yourself to cast about for my replacement?"
"What the hell are you talking about, John. I have not replaced you and I am not looking to replace you. You'd have to agree that our marriage has been stale and I think some time apart would help us to determine how we fix that and get back to where we were."
"Yes, Sarah, our marriage is stale. Actually it is past stale and I and I alone have tried for the past two years to try to change that. Unfortunately for us there was only one person working on this marriage until recently and now there are three. Of course those three have been working at cross purposes."