[Author's Note: This story is dedicated to Just Plain Bob, with thanks for all the enjoyment his stories have given to his many readers.]
*
Over dinner, while Julie was getting Tim more macaroni and cheese and I was wiping some of the ketchup off Will's face, I asked her if we could talk later.
"Just for a few minutes after the boys are in bed," I said.
"Sure, baby." She smiled at me from across the room. "What's up?"
"I don't want to get into it now," I smiled back, glancing at the boys.
So it wasn't until about 8:30, after Tim and Will had been bathed, put into pajamas, and had "Goodnight Moon" read to them for the 300th time, that Julie and I could sit down together in the living room. I brought in a couple of glasses and poured each of us some wine.
"You know how much I love you, right?" I began. Julie smiled and squeezed my hand affectionately.
"Of course, baby—and I love you. We are both pretty lucky."
"Okay," I said. "So, well—listen. Just, please, hear me out, okay? Let me say all of it before you jump in, so I can really explain."
She nodded, looking curious.
"I want to take a lover." Julie's mouth dropped open, and I could see she was about to say something, so I hurried on.
"Please, let me finish—not really a lover, just someone I'll be having sex with. It's Andrea Walden, the new assistant in Edward's office. We've gotten to be friends, had lunch a couple of times, and it turns out she's been divorced about eight months and is horny as hell. We both think we'd be great together, and she understands completely that I'm married and committed to you. So it wouldn't be a romance or anything like that.
"And the fact is, she's really hot. I think that fucking her will be great, and I'm looking forward to doing a lot of it."
Julie looked like she'd seen a ghost. I went on.
"Here's the thing, Jules—it would really be just for sex. I love you, you know that. And we have a great sex life. I love making love with you and I won't be giving up on that at all.
"It's just that, well, I'm feeling the need for some variety. I think it could help us, actually—maybe bring back some of the spark that we had when we first got together, that's been lost a bit after ten years.
"Whatever happens, you will always have my love—I will always be here with you, always fully committed to you and the boys. You won't be losing a thing, I promise.
"And I just couldn't do this behind your back—that would be cheating. So I figured the right thing was just to come out and talk to you about it. I felt sure you would see it my way."
I sat back. "So, honey—what do you think?"
I'd never seen Julie more at a loss. She looked shocked and disoriented, and I waited while she tried to figure out what to say.
"Dan, I—is this one of your jokes? You know, that dead-pan thing you do?"
Julie was referring to a frequent occurrence in our marriage: the times when she can't read my expression. I perfected a poker-face growing up, and in fact I won a great deal of money playing poker in college. So it's kind of a joke between us that she can't always tell if I'm angry, if I'm happy, if I'm kidding about something.
"Not at all, Julie," I said, "I'm completely serious."
"Well, I--wait, have you already...been with her?"
"No, sweetheart, I would never do that! I needed to talk to you first. But she and I are looking forward to spending Saturday afternoon together; I'm going to fuck her brains out!"
Another silence. Then she said, hesitantly: "Honey, I—I just don't...I mean, what about our wedding vows? You know, 'forsaking all others' and all that?"
I nodded my head. "Of course, Julie, we did both promise that. But this won't be like replacing you or anything. You will always be my wife, my lover, my partner, the mother of my children. This will just be a little fun I have on the side, something to keep me young, put a little spring in my step.
"And I promise, it will never affect anything between you and me."
Julie looked as uncomfortable as I'd ever seen her—pale, shaken, very uneasy.
"Dan, I—I just...Jesus, I have no idea what to say to you."
"How about if you think about it, sweetheart? Give it a day or two, and we'll talk about it again, okay?"
She nodded doubtfully. "That's...I guess that's all right," she said.
"Terrific!" I leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. "Thanks, Jules—you're the best. I'm going to go see if I can catch the end of the Cardinals game. I'll be up to bed in a little while."
And with a smile, I got up and left the room.
****************
It was only a bit at a time that I had learned that Julie was cheating on me. Probably a good thing, because if I'd discovered it suddenly I might have just beaten the shit out of her, put Will and Tim in the car and gotten the hell out of town.
But as things happened it was gradual: a little doubt, a hint of suspicion, some looking around, more bits of evidence, and then finally the awful day when there was no longer any doubt about it.
I'm not even sure what first made me wonder. Was it noticing a couple of times when Julie came home from work and headed straight for the shower before even starting dinner? Or was it a subtle lessening of her interest in bed—not less frequent sex, but less enthusiasm?
In any case, once I started wondering I began seeing more things I wasn't happy about, and my wondering turned into worrying. One day she came into the house and went straight to the bedroom without taking off her coat. When she came back out a few minutes later she had changed her blouse.
So I waited until she was in the middle of cooking, then went and checked the laundry hamper in our bedroom. She'd pushed her blouse way down to the bottom, and I could see why: it had several stains on the front, droplets of what might have been vanilla milkshake but which smelled like semen.
Even then—and I guess I'm a cautious person—I didn't confront her. Julie and I had been happily married—very happily married—for eight years. Our two boys were five and three, and we both adored them. Julie was a terrific, loving mother; and I would have said a terrific, loving wife as well.
