We had met at one of the gigs of my band. Laura was the sort of woman who is noticed wherever she goes and like the other men around I couldn't help gawking at her like a boorish idiot all the time. At first, she had looked a little bored and out of place, like she was only there as a favor to someone. As the evening went on, I could see her getting into the music with an intensity that was rare in our usually laid-back audiences. She had approached me directly after our set and had engaged me in an intense discussion about our music. To say that I was immediately in love with her would have been an accurate description of the situation. But I tried to play it cool, assuming that I has an ice cube's chance in hell to start something serious with such a woman.
But after a while I finally understood that she was just as smitten as I was and as different as we were, we were drawn towards each other like magnets. As soon as we both realized this, the outcome was predictable and the result was total bliss for both of us. We spent our days discussing the weirdest things, having glorious sex and generally feeling very at ease with each other. It seemed like we had known each other forever. I had proposed her barely a year after that fateful gig and she had agreed before I had been able to finish the question. My life was perfect.
At least that's what I've assumed so far. I'm right now in the process of falling from cloud ninety down to hard reality. It would hurt less if the drop height wasn't so damn high.
The surroundings of their ungainly mating are something that really makes me wonder again. Here they are, two successful corporate lawyers, good income, respected, both married. Hell, this Ted Mercer guy owns their law firm, probably making more money each day than I do in a month. Still they are in this shabby bed. And apart from Laura's natural grace, their whole mating looks cheap too. Loveless. Mechanical. Uncaring. It is like watching two dogs. They just do it because it needs to be done, but it seems mundane. Apart from the general disappointment of being cheated on, the cheapness of their coupling further soils her image in my mind and contributes to my confusion. Laura, how can you do this to me, to us? The tears threaten to start again, I feel like my blood is being drained from my head, my knees get weak. No, Tom, that mustn't happen now. You will have your mourning period once this is over. Be tough, be uncaring now, be like all these macho assholes you never wanted to be like. Look at Mercer, he would take this in a stride. He would be mad because someone has cuckolded him and threatened his alpha male status. But he wouldn't be heartbroken because he's crazy in love with the woman that has betrayed him. He wouldn't be depressed and crying like I am. Maybe life would be easier as an uncaring, selfish asshole. Maybe Mercer should be my new role model.
To distract myself from my self-pitying, I start to watch them again and I try to do it with some kind of clinical detachment. Laura's behavior for example is interesting, it seems somehow wrong. She seems surprisingly disinterested in the whole thing. Usually she's an attentive and enthusiastic lover, but right now she just seems to wait until it's over. This apparently doesn't go unnoticed by her lover. He contorts his face even more and increases his efforts by pounding her even harder. It looks like he is hard working, this doesn't look like fun, even for him. Sweat is forming on his forehead and threatens to fall onto Laura's back. The thought makes me sick again for some reason. It's bad enough that he's fucking her, but his disgusting sweat shouldn't drop on the back of my woman. My woman? No, Tom, you have to get rid of that thought. She's not yours any more.
He increases his tempo even further. "No, man, that's wrong! That's not how she likes it! Take your time, be gentle!" That's what I almost want to shout. But of course, I don't. What do I really know about her, after all? I have to question everything.
Maybe this guy knows her much better than I do.
Maybe she never really was mine.
Maybe she has faked everything while she was with me.
Maybe she likes it a little rough and uncaring.
Maybe she has never respected me, the poor useless musician.
Maybe she always had a weakness for assertive, successful men.
Maybe I should just go now.
I certainly don't feel like I'm in a position to give anyone advice about her. What I thought to know about her has just turned out to be a big illusion. Ah, this damn self-pitying again. I hate myself for this, but I seem to revert to it again and again. It is self-destructive, but the role as a victim is oh so tempting and comfortable. No sense in pursuing this now, I already know that the full impact of what I'm seeing will hit me bad enough later. That it will lead to questions about my manhood, my sexual abilities, how shitty my life has turned out in general. But not now, right now I'm just staring at them and fight to keep my feelings at bay.
Mercer could really lose a few kilos. The flabby mass around his hips wobbles like jelly while he pounds into Laura's lithe figure. This guy is no porn star material, still she has chosen him above me. This is quite a blow for my ego. All these hours at the gym, all these songs I've written for her, all the love I've shown her don't seem to be that important to her.
Do I need photos, as some kind of evidence? No, Laura makes a lot more money than I do and I want nothing from her. That decision is already clear. I don't want to earn any money from their betrayal, from the desecration of our vows, of our love. No money, no alimony, I want nothing but my freedom and the opportunity to restore my pride.
I had a strong suspicion that something was amiss for weeks. She was strangely distant, the sex had dropped to almost zero, she had dates, of course "work-related" ones only, almost every evening, she suffered from wild mood swings, but refused to talk about it and seemed to stay away from me as often as possible.
xx
LAURA:
Damn, Mercer is really worth nothing. Not only am I endangering my marriage for this, it is also pathetic. If it is no fun, it is no cheating, right? That's ridiculous, Laura. I just hope my darling Tom never has to find out about this. I wouldn't survive losing him or hurting him this way. While I start to dream about Tom, Mercer seems to notice my mental absence and starts to ram his pathetic little thing even harder into me. Shit, I somehow have to survive this ordeal. But somehow I'm also relieved that this is so unpleasant and that he's such a pathetic lover, it makes the betrayal more bearable. If I would derive any pleasure from this, the guilt would kill me on the spot.
xx
TOM:
In the beginning, our unlikely relationship had been like a dream for both of us. We were totally different, me the introverted, poor musician, she the assertive lawyer, earning good money. In the beginning, I suspected that the advances of this walking dream towards me were some kind of prank. When I finally came to the conclusion that she was serious, I was overwhelmed. I knew that she held my heart immediately and that she had the power to break it or to make me the happiest man on earth. But she had assured me to be relaxed, that she felt the same way. Tender and caring sex was something she hadn't experienced before and she claimed that she had her first orgasms with me. I thought that I knew what she needed and took great care to provide it, so assuming she didn't fake them, her orgasms became a regular occurrence in our bedroom.
I enjoyed loving and being loved by a confident and beautiful wife. Of course, our income differed vastly, but we did our best not to let that become an issue. In short - we were happy. At least I was - gloriously happy. I loved her little quirks, her smile, her laugh, the way she cuddled onto my shoulder, the way she panted when she had an orgasm, the way other men envied me when we entered a room. I sadly think that this will never happen again, none of it. I know it's inevitable, but it's still hard to let go.
