This is a story about two people, a husband and a wife, that lost their way. It is told from the wife's point of view. It has very little sex, only where it was necessary. I deal mainly with the people involved and the way their lives develop after events spiral out of control. So if you're looking for a sex story, this isn't it. The second part was already published and since then, you wouldn't believe the problems I have had getting this part up. I hope you feel the wait was worth it.
Thanks to angel love for her editing and comments.
Part 1
The sound of the rain as it fell on the surface of the temporary cover I was standing under was like a hiss of anger at the fates for taking away the person that I had loved for so long. I was there alone, the others giving me this moment to say a private goodbye. The two workmen were standing just out of sight, giving me the illusion of privacy. The coffin had been lowered into the gaping hole and the cover kept the rain away until it could be filled, closing off forever the world above. I let the tears flow now that I was alone. I cried for the loss of that person who understood me, who had maintained me and had given me back my life. I would miss the friendship, the companionship and the love given without reservation for so long. I let the tears fall as I remembered our life together and the wonderful gifts that it brought into my life.
*
The beginning of the end of my other life began as I watched Albert walk out of the room and down the hall to our bedroom. I waited until he had closed the door and then I let go. I began to cry, holding my head in my hands and giving vent to all of my grief. I cried until I was gasping for breath and then I lay down on the couch with my legs drawn up to my chest and cried some more. I couldn't keep it back any longer. It had been coming for a long time and now I was lost to it.
I cried for many reasons, the least of which was my guilt and sense of betrayal of my husband and our marriage, but also for the loss of our life together and the loss of my husband to his depression and his deceit.
In order to understand what happened to bring me to this place, I went back to the beginning.
My husband's name is Albert Bennington. Most people recognize him from the scandal several years ago when the company he worked for was implicated in a national security issue. It was in all the papers and even on national TV. I am his wife, Angelina or Angie as my friends call me. We've been married for just over 33 years now. I'm 53 and Al is 55. We have one daughter, Jennifer who is now 30 but we haven't seen or talked with her for over 10 years. She was adopted and was trouble from the time she was old enough to find ways to sneak out of the house. To make a long story short, she left home at 18, already pregnant and we had no contact with her after she left.
Al worked for a company that sold machine parts to companies off shore. It involved government contracts and there was always some kind of scam going between the people his company sold to and who ultimately got the parts. I never understood much about it and Al tried to keep me out of it for the most part. He had been with them for 14 years and had moved up rapidly until he was President and CFO. That was when the scandal broke and Al was implicated in a money laundering deal with an Iranian company.
The Justice Department filed suit and Al and several other men were indicted. The trial was nasty and blame was scattered far and wide. That trial lasted for over two years and during that time, Al tried to hide most of our assets in offshore accounts. The FBI was able to find and freeze many of those assets and money became a problem for us. We sold our home and cars and moved into a smaller place. Against Al's wishes, I finally decided to get a job. I needed the job for my own sanity and we needed it to bring in a little extra money. I found a job in a bank here in town, beginning as a teller and finally working my way up to agent, dealing with corporate accounts.
The trial caused Al to sink into a deep depression. He lost his job of course and he was not able to find another while he was under indictment. He spent most of our money on lawyers and our funds went from modest to nonexistent in less than two and a half years. At the end of the first trial, Al had lost almost all of our money and assets and his health had started to decline. By the time all of the appeals were finished, we were down to only my income and we were living in a small single level, two bedroom house outside the city limits. It was the best we could do.
During all of this, I stayed with Al and never even thought about a divorce. I was his wife and I had promised for better or worse and richer or poorer. That time was the worst and we became poor. But I stayed.
Unfortunately, our marriage began to suffer almost from the first when the indictments were handed down. Al and I had a good solid marriage and had few problems during our 30 plus years. Our sex life was not exciting but it was solid and we both enjoyed our times together. I had two different moods for making love; the first was what I called my pleasure mode and the other was my pain mode. Not really, but that's what Al and I called them. My pleasure mode was the one where I loved to make Al happy by giving him oral and then letting him lay back while I mounted him and made love to him. My pleasure was in making him happy. Often, I had no climax during these times but I didn't care. It made me happy. The pain mode was more typical for couples and Al took the lead. We enjoyed both equally.
We had settled into a routine where we had sex on those evenings we had been out to a party and almost always at least once during the weekend. Al loved to get up Saturday morning, go into the kitchen and bring back some chilled fruit. We would sit in bed and eat the fruit and then we would make love. We often did it more than once and sometimes as many as three times. Of course, at our age, that meant we stayed in bed most of the morning and part of the early afternoon. But it was our time and we both loved it.
As things went downhill during the trial, so did our love life. After the first trial, we had stopped making love and we only had sex once or twice a month. That was usually only if Al had a bad day and needed comforting. This led to pleasure sex. I didn't mind those times and actually looked forward to them since it was all I had to give Al. But after the trial and finally the appeals, sex stopped completely and Al never came to me for comfort again.
It was after the appeals and well into the third year after Al lost his job that his deep depression worsened even more. It came slowly and I never noticed it since I was gone most of the day at work. Al stayed home and did almost nothing but I didn't complain. I was hoping he would come out of it since he escaped jail time. I tried to get him into calling some of his contacts but if he did, he never mentioned it to me. It finally got so bad that I made him go to see a shrink. She listened to him and finally prescribed some anti depressants. I made sure he took them but I saw little difference. He was seeing her twice a week but we couldn't afford the money so he stopped going shortly after.
I was working at a bank in town that was fairly large. This bank had been expanding by buying some smaller banks and S & Ls. They were a good place to work since I was able to move up in the bank fairly fast. I had become an accounts manager by that time and I had four other people working for me. They were all young and very good. I enjoyed my job and looked forward to going to work. I was sure part of that was getting away from Al. Not that he cared: Al never even commented on my job and never asked about it.
I reported to a gentleman about my age that was very good looking and very nice to work for. His name was Haywood Meisner and we all called him Woody. He took the time to train me when I started and he was the one that had recommended me to management when it came time to pick a department head. He was divorced and lived alone in a very well to do neighborhood. At one time, Al and I would have been his neighbors. He had also been a good friend and a confidant during Al's trial and the time afterward. He was supportive and could always be counted on to lend me a sympathetic ear. I suspected he might have wished for more from me than friendship but he never pressed and I was dedicated to my husband and my marriage.
Al had been out of work for just over three years and in his depression for almost 15 months. He told me that he continued to take the pills the shrink prescribed and they at least kept him moving around most of the time. It was during one of our frequent fights one evening when Al surprised me by saying that he had talked with a friend of his who might have a job for him. I forgot what we were arguing about since I was excited and happy for him and tried to get him to talk about it to me but he just shrugged and said it was too early. He said he had a meeting with the guy in a day or so and then we could talk.
