My name is Leslie and I was married to Chuck for twenty-six years. We have two grown children, a boy and a girl. I thought I had the perfect life. Chuck's job as a stockbroker allowed me to be a stay-at-home mom and still provide us with a very comfortable lifestyle. We have a lovely home in a wealthy suburban community with an inground pool. Chuck has a nice collection of sports cars. Our children are doing well and are financially self-sufficient. Life was wonderful.
My body isn't the same as when I was younger. I gained a few pounds, my breasts have become victims of gravity, and my hips and butt are wider than I'd like. Chuck's hair is thinning and he's carrying a few extra pounds, mostly in his waist. Given all of that, Chuck and I still had a decent sex life.
When our youngest went to college, I thought Chuck and I would have more time to travel and was hoping our sex life would get even better. Things didn't quite work out that way though. He started spending more time at the office and began to travel more often for work. I offered to go with him on his business trips but he said it wasn't feasible. He said he'd be tied up with clients all day and would be entertaining them at night. I was disappointed but he was a good provider and his income was increasing so I didn't complain. I trusted him.
I was getting bored at home and struggling to keep myself busy now that I wasn't involved in a PTA, soccer, or baseball leagues. I ended up putting on a few more pounds. As sex with Chuck became less frequent, I blamed myself for not being sexy enough for him. When we did have sex, he seemed disinterested and would fall asleep immediately afterward. Orgasms became far and few between.
One day while Chuck and I were having dinner, he told me he needed some space. I was confused and asked what he meant.
"I mean, what I really want is a divorce."
I was stunned, to say the least.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I plan on moving out and I want a divorce. I don't know. I think I want more in life and I want the freedom to do what I want when I want."
I was shattered. He kept talking but the words weren't sinking in. I barely remember what the hell he said. I was in a total state of shock.
I asked him, "Is there someone else?"
He stared at me for a few moments and I asked, "Who is she?"
"Well, I've been seeing Marissa?"
"Your assistant?"
Chuck looked sheepishly at the table and I asked, "How long has this been going on?"
"Almost a year," he replied.
"A year? A fucking year?"
I felt like an idiot. Suddenly, everything came together. All the late nights at work, all the business trips, the weekend meetings. How could I be so stupid?
Marissa was a cute young woman about half Chuck's age. She had a lovely figure, blonde hair, blue eyes, and was sexy. There is no way I could physically compete with her. I threw my napkin at Chuck which didn't make it across the table so I threw my plate, glass, and silverware at him.
I was so hurt and frustrated that I ran to our bedroom and began to cry. He tried to console me but I told him to get out. I wanted him out of the house immediately. I couldn't even look at that lying bastard.
Chuck packed a few clothes and left the house. I later found out that he already had an apartment that he was using as his love nest with Marissa. I was hurt beyond belief and did nothing but cry for several days. I leaned on my best friend Carey for consolation through these tough times. After listening to me and my woe-is-me state of mind for almost a week, Carey gave me some tough love.
"You know I love you Leslie, but you need to snap out of this and fight back. You need to quit feeling sorry for yourself and get a good lawyer. You need someone who will go for the jugular."
You know what, she was right. I went from self-pity to being furious. Carey helped me find the best divorce lawyer in town and we went to war with Chuck and his attorney. Carey got me to join the gym she goes to and I started to get back in shape. Not only was I looking better physically but it helped me mentally by working off the stress of the divorce. It was still difficult to get over the rejection I felt after being married all that time to someone who I thought was my soulmate but the healing process had begun.
When I first joined Carey at the gym, I wore very loose clothing. I had body image issues and tried to hide my perceived flaws as best I could. Carey was after me to show off my assets to attract some potential male suitors. I was nowhere near ready to start dating again. I didn't need any more complications in my life. I barely wanted to go out with my friends but Carey forced me to get out of the house.
In the months that the lawyers were negotiating a settlement, I lost more weight and some of my flab turned into muscle. Carey convinced me to buy some leggings to show off my butt. I bought some sports bras but told her I'd wear them under a shirt. I wasn't going to let anyone see my stomach at my age. She did convince me to start wearing tank tops as a compromise.
Carey told me, "You have nice boobs. It's time to bring the ladies out of hiding."
I smiled and rolled my eyes but that's what good friends are for. When we were at the gym, she would tell me when she saw guys checking me out. I was skeptical and thought she was saying that to build up my confidence.
One day when I got home from working out, I stopped to check out myself in the mirror before I took my shower. I looked at my naked body from different angles and noticed a drastic difference from several months ago. My body wasn't perfect but I'm more than average height and my legs looked so much better now. I thought my ass was still too plump but I went down a few sizes in the slacks that I wore. I lost a cup size in my breasts but that meant I was only a D cup now. I had a few wrinkles on my face but fewer than most women my age.
I thought to myself, "Not bad for an old lady."
My confidence was returning. I still wasn't looking to date anyone but I did notice some men checking me out for the first time in years. When a middle-aged man started flirting with me at the gym, it made me feel super good about myself. Alright, he wasn't much to look at but under the circumstances, I took what I could get.
By the time the divorce was finalized, I was feeling much, much better about myself. My heart still couldn't deal with a romantic entanglement but I had come to terms with my situation.
In the end, I got the house in return for not taking his sports cars. My lawyer got me more than enough monthly alimony and a fair share of Chuck's retirement savings for me to live comfortably for the rest of my life.
However, as the date of the final divorce settlement got closer, I became a little despondent. It was the finality of a twenty-six-year marriage that got to me. I talked it over with Carey and she would have none of it.
She told me, "You've come too far for you to take any steps backward. We're going to go shopping and out to dinner. We're going to have some drinks after dinner and celebrate you getting rid of that fucking cheating asshole. We're going to do it with Chuck's money, too."
Carey always influenced me and wouldn't take no for an answer after I hesitated. The day the divorce was final, she took me shopping where I bought a black above the knee button down dress with a scoop neck. It allowed me to show off a little bit of leg and some cleavage while still appropriate for a woman my age. To go with it, I bought a matching purse, a pearl necklace, and sandals. No outfit would be complete without new underwear. I bought a black half-cup lace bra with matching bikini panties. Carey tried to talk me into buying a thong but I was never comfortable with a string up my but.
We went for manicures and pedicures and had our hair and makeup done too. We were ready to party. We had a drink at my house as we got ready for dinner and called a rideshare to pick us up. We planned on drinking too much to drive.
We went to my favorite restaurant and polished off a bottle of wine during dinner. During dinner, Carey convinced me to unbutton a couple of buttons from the top and bottom to show off more cleavage and my legs.
After a nice dinner and dessert, Carey and I went down the street to a bar that had a mix of younger and middle-aged people. We grabbed a couple of seats at the bar and ordered our drinks. As we toasted to my new found freedom, Carey tried to get me to unbutton more buttons on my dress but I refused.
"Come on, Leslie, you've got to advertise a little if you want to attract a guy."
I laughed and replied, "I ain't advertising because the store is closed right now. I'm not looking for anyone."
It was nice to get out with Carey and relax. I felt like a weight, literally 220 pounds, had been lifted off me. It was a relief to finally be done with the divorce. While we were drinking, a couple of guys sat down in the seats next to us. They appeared to be in their late 20s or early 30s. As they sat down, Carey started making eyes at me like this was my chance to pick up a guy. I burst out laughing thinking she was crazy.
Carey bought us a couple of shots, clicked our glasses, and said, "Here's to getting rid of that asshole husband of yours," and we quickly downed the drinks.
One of the young gentlemen next to us held up his glass and said, "Congratulations. How long were you married?"
"Twenty-six years."