Why Won’t You Commit?

This story is the property of the writer Kalimaxos.

Any unauthorized reproduction or reprint without the express authorization of the author is strictly prohibited.

Like real life, it’s often a shitshow.

Warning: You are in an erotica site reading peoples’ smut. No one. And I mean, NO ONE needs to hear your judgmentalism, hateful comments or rude reviews. I moderate comments and remove anything I find in that manner. And if you post violent and or hateful comments, you will be reported. (And LIT doesn’t like to keep around people who do that.) So just read or not.

***

Why won’t you…

“Luke, why won’t you commit to a nice girl and have some kids?”

Yeah, Luke. Why won’t you commit? Why not find a nice girl, fall in love, and father kids? After all, men have been doing so through the ages. Right? Be a good boy and commit. Shudder!

“We hereby commit his body to the deep.”

Commit! That word again. The bane of my existence. And I am not talking about making a commitment to something of importance with your word as your bond. Although, that is what is expected in all “commitment” cases.

To me, the word meant one and one thing only back then: submission.

Surrender all control of my life to someone else. You may think I am paranoid. But I knew well enough for the hair on the back of my neck to stand each time I heard that word.

So hear my story.

***

Family dinner

“Luke, why won’t you commit to a nice girl and have some kids?”

There my mother repeated it, again! Like nails scratching a blackboard! I must have heard that from her a thousand times in the last two years. And it was grating on my nerves. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement, and order, a demand.

My name is Luke Stanton. Son of Joyce and William Stanton. Brother of Amber Stanton-Boyce. I’m single, and my sister is not. She is married to Reggie Boyce, and they have two children. Maggie, five, and Anna, three. So yeah, I’m the unmarried uncle, son, and brother.

“Again, with that, mom?” I roll my eyes.

“You’re not getting any younger, mister,” mom replies as she picks up little Anna and gives her a hug and kiss.

Maggie gets jealous and runs to me for a hug. What can I say? I’m a sucker for my nieces. They are both so cute and innocent. Womanhood at its finest. Once they grow up, it’s all downhill from there.

“Let him be Joyce,” my dad says as he smiles at the scene of my nieces cuddling up to uncle Luke and Grandma Joyce. “How are you, son?”

“I’m just fine, dad,” I reply as Maggie decides she wants a hug from grandpa. And just like that, I become yesterday’s lunch to her.

‘Another symbolic moment,’ I think to myself as I look at little Maggie. ‘And so it begins.’

“Let me guess,” he says as he takes Maggie in his arms. “Mom hassling you about still being single?”

“You got it,” I reply as my mother shakes her head at us.

“What happened to that girl Sherry you were seeing?” Amber snickers.

“Amber,” Rob, my brother in law tries to intervene on my behalf.

But my sister just waves him off dismissively as she waits for me to answer.

“It’s been over for a few weeks,” I reply, hoping they stop the interrogation.

“Who broke it off?” Mom asks.

Amber scoffs as she stares at me. I can see Reggie shaking his head with disapproval. Most likely, of the way, our women are pushing the issue. My dad doesn’t like it either but nods to me for reassurance.

“I did,” I reply as mum shakes her head, and my sister chuckles.

“What was it this time?” my mother asks. “She seemed like a nice girl.”

“Same as always,” Amber cut in. “He got scared and ran.”

“Why?” Mom asked.

“Blame her,” I said, pointing to my sister.

“Me! What did I do?” Amber protested.

“It’s you and your profession,” I replied. “The culture people like you have created.”

“Divorce lawyer?” she feigned shock. “My profession has made you incapable of committing to a woman?”

She looked around at everyone and laughed. I noticed a few polite smiles, but no one joined my annoying sister in her display of mirth.

“Remember that story you told us last time we got together?”

Amber had a puzzled look, but my dad knew the one as he shook his head and let my niece run away from him. Her attention now focused on her stuffed animal.

“Refresh my memory,” my sister replied, sitting on the kitchen table. The rest of us followed as mom poured coffee.

“You told us about the wife you represented in her divorce proceedings. She had an affair and decided to divorce her husband, yet still got the house, the kids, and child support. Remember now?”

“That sounds like most my cases, Luke,” Amber snickered.

I noticed that her husband winced at that. He was obviously not a fan of his wife’s methods.

“Exactly, Amber,” I replied. “They are all the same. The wife gets everything, while the ex-husband gets the shaft. He loses his kids, their home and has to pay child support. Not to mention the mortgage of the house he doesn’t live in. The wife often has cheated and gets to bring her boyfriend or boyfriends in the house where the kids live. You must be so proud of yourself.”

You could cut the tension in the room with a knife as Amber and I stared at each other with cold eyes. Neither giving in.

“You are right. I am proud of my work,” she replied, leaning in. “I make sure that the legal system upholds women’s rights….”

“At the expense of the fathers,” I rebutted. “And the kids.”

Amber sneered at me.

“You are living in the past, Luke. The fifties are over, and so is the patriarchy.”

It was my turn to scoff. Patriarchy. It meant the rule of society by men. The go-to word of feminists and man-haters in our modern times. According to them, everything wrong in women’s lives was caused by men and their patriarchal rule. But patriarchy ended way before any of us in the room were born. Now it was just a myth the feminists used to justify their man hatred.

“Oh, spare me the neo-feminism lectures. You make money off the destruction of families.”

“You are right,” she snapped back. “Plenty of money. More than you. The days of a male-dominated society are over brother dear. It’s time you accept it.”

“Oh, but I have, dear sister. You made sure of that.”

She looked back at me quizzically. Not sure where I was going with my point.

“You and all the stories you tell us about your legal prowess has made me realize that marriage is a sucker’s bet for a man. Let’s say I do find someone and get married. Eventually, we have a kid or two, and then she is in the driver’s seat legally while I have nothing but liabilities. If she decides the marriage is over, I lose everything while she gets everything. Do I have it wrong?”

She didn’t reply, just stared at me with a slight smirk.

“If I do want to have children, I have to submit to your… matriarchal system. How is it called these days? Oh yeah… fem-dom. Feminist domination.”

“We are merely making the playfield even,” she spat back.

“Bullshit!” I replied. “Your kind controls the system. In modern marriage, there are no consequences for a woman if she cheats on her husband. No legal penalty. So, the system practically encourages it.”

“A woman is finally in charge of her sexuality,” Amber shot back.

“Oh, she is in charge, alright,” I replied. “The minute she has a child with a man, his life is in her hands. And no matter what she does, your legal system is on her side. So, tell me again why I should submit? Excuse me… commit?”

“Luke,” mom cut in. “So what? You are never going to get married because a woman may take you to the cleaners?”

“OK, mom, since you asked. It is quite clear from all my lawyer sister says that the law is on a wife’s side in marriage. She can cheat, and the kids go to her, so does the house, and the husband has to move out, pay child support, and the mortgage until the kids are eighteen. With close to fifty per cent of marriages failing and women asking for that divorce seventy per cent of the time, what man in his right mind would get married? Why would he jump off that cliff when that is what he has to look for down the road?”

“So that’s it?” Mom asked. “You quit? You will never get married and have children?”

“As things are right now, marriage for me is out of the question.”

“You are a coward,” Amber scoffed.

“I’m a pragmatist,” I replied and picked up my keys. “See you guys next week.”

And with that, I left the weekly family dinner gathering.

***

How I got there

Things for young men of my age group were bleak when it came to marriage and having children. I had seen married friends, neighbours, coworkers, and even an uncle go through it.

You could say I was somewhat paranoid but definitely jaded. But after all the men I had seen burned by women and the system, I was very wary of marital entanglements. The thought of having a child that a woman would take from me was something I just could not fathom.

I understood that some men had used women in the past. That some of these “men” had ditched their wives. Usually for another woman. And quite often, with the children of the ex-husband to raise on with minimal support. But that was then, or other men, not me.

The politicians had overreacted, as they often do to fix a problem. But then they realized how easily they could buy women’s votes by extending the divorce rules to appease them. That some of those male politicians became victims of the laws they voted for was poetic justice that did nothing for men like me who were not responsible. To the system, men were guilty of child abandonment even before they sired any.

My sister had quite the point in saying I should face reality. And the fact was that wedding vows these days were meaningless. In those vows, a man and woman promised to be sexually exclusive to one another. To forsake all others and look for sex only from their spouse. And that meant the wife’s husband would sire the children.

That the children would be the wife’s was not in doubt. As for the men, they are left to wonder if the children are theirs. Seeing the amount of cheating, divorce, and paternity disputes during divorces, I could not bring myself to “commit” to a woman without reservation. And I had good reason to.

I wasn’t always this jaded. In my younger days, I as well had bought into the whole marriage myth. I had a small taste of it with my ex Lyn. She and I had been married a year when she was in a car accident. The police came to me at work and took me to the hospital. She was in a coma. Then they dropped a bomb on me. Instead of being at work, as she had me believe, she had taken a day off to spend with some guy I didn’t know. She had been in his car when they found her, with part of his cock in her mouth.

Her parents had the nerve to ask me not to be quick to judge and divorce her. As if she was going to explain a severed cock in her mouth as accidental? When she came out of the coma six months later, I had left our apartment, her parents had her things, and she was served with divorce papers. The police report was prominently on top of the paperwork. She did not contest and never tried explaining to me why. Nor did I need to know or asked. The truth was self-evident.

But I had been lucky. Why, you say, after that debacle?

Because we had no children. All we had to divide were some things and our joint bank account. If we had offspring, my situation would have been catastrophic. Since then, I have trusted no woman. Sex for me meant condoms and no drinking where I could lose control and forget to use one.

***

Mindy

Yet while weary of women, I could not do without female company. You could say I was doomed to pet the tiger that wanted me for a meal. Or that my small head kept winning the argument with the one on my neck.

Once again, I found a semi-regular girlfriend. Mindy. Cute, pleasant, and sexy. After a couple of months, she wanted to go exclusive, but I refused. That was step one to engagement and then marriage. Six months into the relationship, she was starting to talk the “C” word: commitment.

I liked Mindy. The sex was good. Not perfect, but passable. I kept thinking about something an old mentor had said to me that was relevant.

“A woman will give a man her best… before she marries him,” he had said, emphasizing the word “before.”

Thinking of that, I realized that Mindy’s best was lacklustre. When or more likely, IF we married, things would not get better. They never do. So, no exclusivity and no commitment. But Mindy had other ideas. She backed off the “commitment” talk and even requesting exclusivity.

Instead, I saw an increased effort from her sexually. She exhibited a willingness to have and initiate sex as well as try all kinds of new things. She deep throated me and swallowed my cum. Then she offered me her ass. This was a totally different woman from the Mindy I knew.

“Mindy?” I finally asked. “What brought on these changes?”

“Do you like the new me?” she asked.

“Sure, but I don’t understand the change. What brought this on?”

“I talked to a good friend of mine. She is older and divorced. She told me that life is short. Too short to waste holding back. I think I was losing you with my ways, and I don’t want to. Plus, it’s been fun, hasn’t it?”

“Yes, it has,” I replied.

“Good,” she smirked suggestively. “So, let’s do more. Let’s have fun. As much fun as we can.”

And we did. So much so that I forgot all about marriage, commitments, and all I feared. Not having the pressure of marriage over my head, I finally managed to relax. We didn’t move in or talk of exclusivity, but we sure spent a lot of time together.

We flew to a nudist resort in the Caribbean and even enjoyed some swapping with two other couples. She was not my wife or even my fiancé, so I was not jealous when she went off with the other guys on consecutive nights, and I enjoyed the charms of their wives.

We had fun for a week, then flew home. Both of us were quiet on the first leg of our flight. Then as we sat together, waiting for the connecting flight, Mindy turned to look at me.

“Are you mad at me?” she asked with concern.

“Why would I be?” I asked.

“Well, what we did… at the resort.”

“Well, I was not playing with myself when you were with the other guys Mindy. Their wives kept me company.”

I saw her flinch, but she nodded, saying nothing for a minute or so.

“Would you want to do it again?” she asked.

“Maybe someday,” I replied.

She said nothing at that, but I could tell she wanted to. ‘Here it comes,’ I said to myself. And it did.

“Well, I had fun,” she said. “I want to do it again. I think they have swing clubs back home. I think it would be good for us to keep doing it. What do you think?”

“Mindy,” I replied. “We’re not married, engaged, or even exclusive. You can just date other people if that’s what you want.”

Yeah, I actually blurted that out. You can imagine, it didn’t go well with Mindy. When we returned, she took an uber to her place, and I drove my car home. So that you know, we had gone to the airport together when we flew out. But, we left apart.

I didn’t hear from her for a few days. Then she showed up at my house after work one day.

“Luke,” she said. “We have to talk.”

Here we go, I thought and sat back, waiting for the shoe to drop.

“I get it. You had trouble with women before, and you have trust issues.”

“I might,” I replied.

“In some ways, I agree with you.”

“You do?”

“Look, Luke. I get it. You were cheated on. I can’t imagine how that must have hurt.”

“You are right,” I replied. “As a woman, you don’t know what that is like for a man. Just like I can’t understand what it would be like for a woman. But I’m over it.”

“No, you’re not,” she replied. “You think all us women are like your ex. But we’re not.”

“You have it wrong,” I reply. “I don’t know if you are or are not like my ex. But…”

“But what?”

“Down the road, you could be.”

“What!” she recoiled. “How can you say that?”

“Look, Mindy, just hear me out.”

She said nothing, but I could tell she felt insulted by what I had said. Still, she let me continue.

“It’s not what you think now. You are a decent woman and think you are and will be. But once you have children with me and you realize the options available, you will, at best, consider those options. And if those children are mine….”

“If! What do you mean if?” she snapped back indignantly. “What do you take me for?”

“If they are mine,” I continued. “That is something I cannot take the chance on. The possibility of you deciding to end the marriage and take them from me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you could. And if you did, it will be because there are no consequences to you as a wife and mother if you do. The legal system will give you the kids, our home, and I will have to move out. I will be forced by the court to pay the mortgage and child support. In this state, I will be forced to pay child support for the kids even if I prove they are not mine.”

She stayed quiet for a few seconds in shock.

“Where did you get all this?” she exclaimed.

“My sister is a divorce lawyer,” I said. “I’ve heard it all before from her. She brags about how she and the legal system shaft fathers in divorce. If you were to look at how the system is set up, Mindy, you would understand.”

“So that’s it?” she said with sadness. “You are telling me that there is no hope for us? No matter what life you and I choose to live? That you think I am a timebomb waiting to go off and use you?”

“Mindy, let me ask you a question.”

She shook her head in anger but let me go on.

“When you have children someday, will you love them?”

“What kind of question is that! Of course I would.”

“So would I,” I said. “I would not be just a sperm donor.”

“A sperm donor…” she said, not finishing the sentence.

“If you decide to divorce me, that will be all I will have become, and my kids no longer mine. Their family will be broken up. Those future kids Mindy,” I paused for effect, “they deserve to have a father in their life. Not a visitor twice or once a month.”

“I can’t believe this,” she said, shaking her head and walked out.

‘Another relationship written off,’ I thought.

But Mindy was not done with me. She kept visiting me and asking me to get together. Having had “the talk,” I figured she had accepted what I had to offer and wanted to continue. The topic never came up for conversation. We dated, and that was it. I had a couple of other prospects I asked out and had fun with. I assume Mindy did as well. I never asked.

She and I went out for a weekend to a lake. It was fun to ride bikes, rent a boat, and dance at a local club by this college not far. The last night before coming home, we had what was probably our best sex ever under the cabin skylight.

She wore sexy matching black underwear, stockings, red high heels, and red lipstick. By the time she was done sucking me off, she had left lipstick marks on my groin at the base of my cock. When I went to the bathroom briefly, I noticed. And to be honest, I was impressed.

Inspired by Mindy, I stepped it up a notch that night and did everything I knew she liked. From foreplay, the way I knew she preferred, to oral, and then more. We had sex all over the room, standing, laying on the bed, on the chairs, the rug by the fireplace, and the couch. We thought of going outside, but the freezing rain stopped that notion. We woke in the middle of the night and fucked again. Then she asked me to take her anally the way she preferred, on her back. It was an unbelievable night.

After we took a shower, we returned to bed and held each other as the fireplace sparks illuminated the room and our bodies. Later on, I woke to Mindy’s mouth on my hardness. She didn’t suck me off. She made love to me with her mouth slowly as she looked into my eyes in a way I will never forget.

When I spent in her lovely mouth, she swallowed and crawled up to lay her head on my chest as I held her.

“Don’t say anything, Luke. I don’t want you to. But know this. I love you.”

I think she fell asleep as I felt nothing but her breathing after that. But I stayed awake until dawn, thinking.

***

Back to reality

I guess that thing my grandfather used to say is true: an empty heart needs filling.

There was no use denying it. I had feelings for Mindy that I could not dismiss so easily. Still, I had reservations and kept my sentiments for her private. As good as things seemed between us, I was still cautious.

I forced myself to go on dates with others. I even had sex with a couple of them as Mindy antidote. Pure fucking a woman can be fun. And it sure was with these two ladies. But it didn’t work to get my mind off Mindy. She had gotten into my head and heart. I didn’t want to say it to myself, but I knew I loved her.

***

“Dear Luke,

“I know you said you are not exclusive with me, Luke, but I chose who is in my heart and pussy. So, I want you to know I will be exclusive to you so long as you want me. You may hurt me in the process, but I’m a big girl. I’ll bounce back.

“Love Mindy.

“Ps. I wrote a note to tell you this because I don’t want to put you in a bad position face to face. We can go on as we are and not have to discuss it.”

She had left this note on my desk the last time she was there. It took me a week to finally come to terms with it. I wasn’t wrong about how modern society shafts men in marriage. Or that women took advantage of the situation in divorce and before. My sister and other lawyers like her were still in the legal system making things worse, and women decided daily to take advantage of our system. But could I judge all women by what some did? Could I ignore my feelings for Mindy?

Yes, I had been cheated on by my first wife. And yes, my sister was a constant reminder of the legal imbalance in marriage between men and women. Not to mention the parade of friends and acquaintances I had seen go through divorce and marriage hell. But not all people were in that mess, and not all women were sharks hunting for their next man to devour. Many were decent and loving, weren’t they? Not all marriages failed. Not all wives cheated. And not all women hated men. If that were so, society would have collapsed long ago.

So, a week later, Mindy and I had a date. Dinner at a nice restaurant, an hour away from our town by the beach. And we had plans to go dancing after at a local club. In my pocket was a wedding ring and I planned to propose. I thought near the end of dinner would be nice. I would do the whole get on my knee thing and ask her to marry me.

That night, she looked so beautiful in this slinky grey dress, white high heels, white belt, and purse. She had her hair tossed over one side of her head and wore a gold necklace around her neck. Her lips had dark red lipstick, making them seem fuller, and accented her smile when she did. And those dark almond eyes were looking deep into my heart, tossing fuel to my fire. I figured this was as good a time as any. And I reached into my suit pocket for the box with the ring.

Then I heard a familiar voice. A female voice that I had known all my life. My sister. Looking up to the right, I saw her being seated not far from us. She was dressed in a short black dress, showing off the body she worked so hard to maintain at the gym. She was with this man I did not know, not her husband, not Reggie. For a few seconds, I hoped he was a client.

“Is that your sister?” Mindy asked in a low tone so as not to be heard.

Any hopes that my sister’s dinner date was business and platonic faded as Amber reached over to touch his hand in a way no married woman should touch another man. Not in my universe anyway. And the man reciprocated by reaching under the table to touch my sister’s thigh.

“Luke,” I barely heard Mindy speak.

I guess Mindy saw the shock, disgust, and anger on my face because she reached for my hand grasping my wrist. She managed to stop me just as I was about to stand and go over to my sister’s table.

“Luke,” she said with the same low tone of voice. “Don’t make a scene?”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t?” I asked, trying to control my anger.

I should not have been surprised that my sister would cheat on her husband. Not after all the scorn and disdain, she showed for marriage. But it’s one thing to hear her go on about how men were suckers. Quite another to see her openly cheating on her husband, Reggie.

“Luke, she and her husband have a family and children. If he finds out, he may divorce her and break up their family.”

“Don’t you think he has a right to know? To make his own decision?” I retorted.

“Luke, think of your nieces. Those girls need both their parents. I bet this is just a fling. Nothing more. Many women do that.”

‘Many women do that!’ had Mindy, my future wife, just said that? Seriously?

I sat frozen, staring at the woman I had been planning to propose to. A sense of sadness and disappointment overcame me. In a few seconds, she tore my heart with her take on the situation. As angry as I was at my sister, I was more disappointed with Mindy.

“I will not make a scene,” I replied, staring coldly into her eyes. “You are right about one thing. Maggie and Anna need their parents. So, I will talk to my sister and see what happens.”

“Good,” she nodded. “I’m glad you see it that way.”

I waved to the waitress for our check, and as we waited, I looked back at my sister. Amber and the asshole next to her were still carrying on. She was giggling like a schoolgirl, and he thought he would be getting some later that night: if he had not had some already. My jaw flinched as I turned back to look at the waitress handing her my credit card.

“Hun, I know this must be hard….” Mindy said, holding my hand.

But I pulled it away and sat back, looking at the woman I had almost proposed to. At that instant, I didn’t know if I should yell at my sister or thank her. It was not just Amber’s behaviour that caused me sadness. Mindy’s take on the situation was worse. In one instant, I saw years ahead of being married to a woman who thought what my sister did was nothing but “a fling.” That “many women” did that.

I think she knew I was upset by the way she looked back at me. She was probably wondering if I would indeed make a scene or something else. I couldn’t wait for the waitress to return with the bill for me to sign. When she did, I wrote in a tip amount that was above what I usually gave. I guess I was subconsciously trying to atone for what I was feeling about to do. When the waitress left, I leaned in closer to Mindy.

“What my sister is doing, and the way you were so quick to dismiss it, is why I refuse to “commit” to any woman,” I said, doing finger quotes at commit.”

I saw the disappointment and sorrow in her expression. I guess she finally realized what she had done and how I now thought of her. All her efforts to convince me she was the one for me had gone down the drain in a couple of minutes. Her lips trembled as a tear ran down her face, and she shook her head in disbelief. She knew it was over between us, and I knew she knew. I was so disappointed in her. Only my anger at the entire situation kept the pain of misjudging her in check.

I said nothing more to her. Nor did I wait for her to stand. She had lost the privilege of me treating her as someone special. Letting her trail behind me, I walked toward my sister’s table.

When I reached it, I coughed to get their attention. Amber and this vaguely familiar man both looked up, irritated at the intrusion.

“What do you want?” he asked with disdain.

But my sister’s reaction was priceless, one of pure shock.

“Luke, what are you doing here?”

“I was having dinner with someone,” I replied.

“Luke, this is not what it seems.”

I just stared back at her with more disappointment than disdain. She had mocked marriage in conversation, but I had hoped she would not crap all over her own.

“Do you know she is married?” I asked him, ignoring Amber for the moment.

“I don’t think it is any of your business,” he replied, moving to stand.

But Amber grabbed his arm to stop him.

“Easy, Dereck,” she said as I made a mental note of his first name. “He is my brother.”

“Oh shit,” Dereck said, finally understanding the situation.

“You and I,” I said to my sister, leaning in closer, “will talk later.”

‘Before I talk to your husband,’ I thought inwardly.

And with that, I walked off. Mindy had been waiting for me by the check-in area. She knew this situation had taken me to the edge and that we were on the brink of trouble at best.

Saying nothing to her, I walked out and headed for my car. In that instant, I didn’t care if Mindy got in the car for me to drive her home or not. It was her choice.

“LUKE!” I heard my sister yell out to me. “Please wait.”

Stopping, I took a deep breath to calm myself. Mindy took the opportunity to catch up to me and walk to the passenger side of the car. I guess she wanted a ride after all. That was all she would get. Then I turned as Amber called my name again and ran on her heels to catch up to me.

“Luke, please wait,” I heard her say before she got close. “You can’t tell Reggie anything. It will crush him.”

“And you didn’t think of that before you hooked up with that asshole in there? What the hell is wrong with you, Amber? How selfish have you become?”

“Look, just promise you won’t say anything to Reggie. Please, I beg of you.”

“Amber, go home right now. If you have no ride, I will drive you there. We still need to talk, and you need to change your ways. But if you stay here with that asshole, I’m going to your husband as soon as I leave. Your choice.”

She looked at me for a few seconds trying to decide what to do. Shithead had not come out. So, she took out her phone and dialled him. I waited until she told him she was leaving and snatched her phone from her.

“Hey, what are you doing!” she protested before she realized I was looking at her contacts and phone call record.

“Dereck Campbell,” I said. “Your fucken high school boyfriend? Seriously Amber!”

No wonder he looked familiar. The long hair was gone, but it had been him for sure. Shamed as she was, Amber did not reply as she looked back at me uncomfortably.

“How long?” I asked.

“Luke… why do you need to know? It’s just…”

“Just sex Amber?” I finished her sentence. “Are you going with that? Or more? You know, I’m now wondering if Maggie and Anna are Reggie’s. Are they?”

“Of course,” she replied indignantly. “I didn’t start back up with Dereck until after the girls were born.”

But with her lying so much already, I did not trust her response. Right then, I made a mental note to get DNA samples from the girls and Reggie. The kids deserved to know who their father was, and Reggie should not be saddled to finance the upbringing of children that were possibly not his.

“Get in the car, Amber,” I said. “I’m taking you home.”

When I unlocked the doors, Amber went to the back seats while Mindy moved to sit next to me.

“Sit in the back,” I told Mindy.

My soon to be ex-girlfriend stared at me for a few seconds. Then realizing how much she had fucked up, turned to sit in the back with my sister on shame row.

While I drove back, I could hear Mindy crying.

“What’s wrong with you two?” Amber asked.

“I failed the test,” Mindy replied with a sad, forlorn tone as she tried to stifle a sob and failed.

“Test?” Amber asked. “What test?”

Mindy said nothing and continued sniffling. In the mirror, I could see she was still crying quietly.

“It’s none of your business, Amber,” I told my sister. “You should worry about your own problems. I want to know one thing. How long have you and this asshole been hooking up?”

I could see in the mirror that she was trying to decide what to tell me. For a lawyer with a courtroom face, she was sure very readable tonight. After all, she had been caught less than thirty minutes before, and she was not firing on all cylinders. If I didn’t press her now, she would find a good line of bullshit to give me.

“HOW LONG, AMBER!” I yelled. “For once in your life, tell the truth.”

“Alright… alright… two years. Maybe a little longer.”

Two years! That would be after she had her girls, if it was true. Or at best after Maggie had been born. Possibly, during the time Anna was conceived and since.

“How often do you hook up?”

“Once a week. Sometimes not.”

“For two years!” I say. “Did you even consider the possibilities of you getting caught?”

“I did,” she replied, looking out the window. “I just…”

“Let me guess; you thought you could get away with it? That no one would know? That might have worked if you stuck to doing things indoors. But no. You had to take it outside. How often do you go to dinner with him and such?”

“Just the last two months and we go outside the city.”

“You are so arrogant, Amber. So much so, you believe you are smarter than everyone else.”

She was smart enough to stay quiet from that point on.

“What’s the matter, counsellor?” I taunted her. “Have you decided to take the fifth?”

She kept looking out the window, but that snide look she often had seemed gone. ‘How the mighty had fallen or decided to shut up and regroup,’ I thought.

By then, both women were quiet in their own thoughts and looking out their side windows. Neither wanting to talk, but instead, think of what their lives were about to change to.

***

Reggie

I took both women home, dropping Mindy off first. She gave me a forlorn look before turning to run into her apartment building. It was unlikely we would see each other again, and she knew it.

In a way, she did me a favour. Mindy showed me what she was thinking and how she would react later on if we had married. All she did to get on my good side had been an act. But in the end, she let her guard down and defended what my sister was doing.

In the days to come, she apparently contacted my parents to see if they can intervene on her behalf. I found out when my parents called me to go over. I did, but not before I talked with my brother in law Reggie.

The Australians call having a serious conversation “having a yarn.” And what a yarn I had for my brother in law, and he for me. A tale of love and lies. I called him at work and asked if he could take the afternoon off so we could talk. He agreed, and sure enough, at one PM that Wednesday, he was over at my place. I remembered he liked Wendy’s Spicey chicken over ChickFillet, so I had his fav food waiting for him. And beer. I figured he would need it, and it was the least I could do.

“Hi Reggie,” I said at the door. “Come in.”

“Hey Luke,” he replied.

He seemed down and dejected as he sat at my kitchen table. I noticed he had a folder with papers with him. But we ate first and had a beer each.

“Before you go about ratting out your sister Luke, I will save you the grief.”

“What? Did she confess?” I asked.

He inhaled and then blew out and smiled.

“I have known about her and Dereck Campbell for some time,” he continued. “The two of them have a history before me. Amber got careless some years ago when she got drunk at a party at home. She and the women were gossiping when they thought we men were not listening. But I was suspicious then and had planted listening devices around the house that recorded what went on. I spent many hours going over them.

“In one recording after our daughter was born, she said that she and Dereck Campbell had been seeing each other all along. And that she hooked up with him a week after our honeymoon. Can you believe that?”

“So, she lied to me about it starting later.”

“It’s why I got these,” he said and opened the folder.

Looking at them briefly, I noticed they were DNA tests from a local firm by the University. At first, they were hard to make out, but they said that Reggie was the father down by the bottom.

“Both?” I asked incredulously.

“Yes,” he replied.

“So. Why haven’t you divorced Amber if you have proof she cheated?” I asked.

He scoffed.

“You know all the reasons,” he chuckled. “Have you forgotten all the snickering talks by her about how she and other lawyers burn fathers in divorce proceedings?”

“No, but hell, man. Are you going to let her get away with it without a fight? Why?”

“Because of the poor kids,” Reggie replied. “It’s not their fault their mother is messed in the head. Sorry Luke, I know she is your sister….”

“There is no love lost between Amber and me,” I cut him off. “Amber is a mess.”

“But she has the courts and the law on her side. Her being the mother of my kids means that I am trapped.”

“Have you and her talked since I dropped her off the other night?”

“She stayed quiet all Saturday,” Reggie recounted. “I guess she was planning her defence because I saw her in the study writing notes. Then Sunday, she told me that you caught her with Dereck Campbell and got all high and mighty on her. Then she said to me that if I even thought of divorce, she would take my kids in a custody fight.

“Yes,” she had emphasized, “I will take your kids, and you won’t even get visitation.” So, I’m trapped, Luke. Just like in the court cases she brags about.”

“Wow,” was all I could manage to say.

“Then she told me that Dereck Campbell had been her one true love. The bastard never asked her to get married, so she told me she settled for me and saw him on the side. That Campbell does more for her in bed and shit like that. I moved my stuff to the spare room and put a lock on it. I can’t stand the sight of her.”

“Reggie, what are you going to do when the kids get older, and mom is going out with Dereck Fuckin Campbell while you stay home?”

He looked at me with a smile. That puzzled me.

“Luke, for the sake of my daughters and being there for them, I can do thirteen years with her standing on my head.”

“Why thirteen years?” I asked.

“That’s when my youngest will turn sixteen and can choose who to live with by law. You seem surprised, Luke. You think I haven’t explored my avenues?”

“What will you do then?”

“Then I plan to divorce her, and since she makes more than me, when we do divorce, I will get half of all the assets. In some respects, buddy, your sister is working for me.”

“Thirteen years!” I shook my head. “That’s a long time.”

“I won’t be alone, my friend,” my brother-in-law replied with a bittersweet note. “I have my daughters.”

“What about companionship?”

He laughed.

“You won’t believe this, but your sister offered me a post-nuptial agreement for an open marriage. My lawyer told me that since she offered it, we are taking it. Thirteen years, is a long dry spell Luke.”

Our nervous laughter did not make us feel any better.

“I guess,” I replied.

“No guessing,” he continued. “No way I’m getting Campbell’s sloppy seconds or Amber’s pity fucks. Once a woman tells you that she had to go to another man because you are not good enough, there is little to say about sex with her. I may be trapped, but I have my self-respect.”

“I see,” I replied. “When you need me to, I will tell Maggie and Anna what their mother did. I’ll leave it up to you on the when or if.”

“I appreciate it,” Reggie replied.

We looked at each other for some time, and he nodded to me, knowing I was on his side.

“Luke,” he said. “Don’t fall into the trap I am in. No matter what pressure your mother puts on you, don’t do it. There has to be another way.”

“I guess I’m resigned to being a bachelor,” I said.

***

I guess I had to know

With that out of the way, I went to visit my parents. My dad stayed quiet and let my mother state Mindy’s case.

“You are too harsh, Luke,” Mom said. “It’s not her fault your sister cheated. And are you sure about that?”

“Well, I’m sure Mindy told you what she saw, didn’t she?”

“She did,” my father spoke for the first time, giving my mother a dirty look. “You know she did Joyce. Stop trying to manipulate our son. He was there and saw it with his own eyes. And she admitted she has been seeing this Campbell character for years. Not just to Luke but also her husband.”

Mom sat back for a minute, then tried to defend Amber again.

“Leave it be, Joyce,” my dad said to mom. “I raised Amber, hoping she would be a good woman. But I failed.”

“Our daughter is not a bad… person,” my mother said, then hesitated in mi phrase, realizing the stupidity of her thinking. “She is just…”

“What exactly is she, Joyce? She has the moral code of a mongoose.”

I snickered at dad’s comical yet sad description of my sister, earning me a dirty look from Mom. It was no secret in our family that mother had been the one to promote to Amber the feminist notions my sister espoused. And now that her favourite child was openly flaunting her indiscretions, mother Stanton had a hard time making excuses for Amber. Because as we all knew, it was a reflection on mom’s thinking.

For years mom had bossed everyone in the house. Dad put up with it by walking away, but I had rebelled as soon as I reached thirteen. Mom and Dad tried to put on a united front with us kids, but it was clear that their two children espoused two opposite philosophies. Choosing between us or not had caused strife and tension until we both left home for college. Now that conflict had returned to haunt our parents. I could tell they were both distraught and gravely pained.

“She is still our daughter William,” she replied.

“Right,” my father said, looking away. “As fucked up as she may be. I still love her. I just don’t like what she has let herself become.”

“One thing Mindy said that I agree,” I said, getting their attention, “is that many women these days do as Amber does.”

“You mean that they cheat?” my father asked.

“Not just that,” I replied. “But if they do so, women rarely get caught. In fact, most cheaters don’t. One in five if that much.”

“Why?”

“Many reasons. Their spouse trusts them. Or the spouse doesn’t want to find out. Maybe their spouse doesn’t care as they may be cheating as well. And frankly, because cheaters know they are doing wrong and plan their dalliances well. Only the stupid among them or very unlucky get caught.

“And Amber is in the demographic most likely to. She is well educated, professionally successful, and entitled. She has always looked good and loves the attention. Even her business suits for court seem painted on her. Not to mention the high heels and the boob job that cry, “look at me.” She hits all the checkmarks, and we all know it. You too, mom.”

My mom cringed at the description of her daughter and my challenge in the end. She was well educated and respected in her profession as a therapist. And even though now in her early fifties, mom still received plenty of looks from men. She always had. In some ways, she was an older version of Amber. Both physically and in her professional confidence. I always wondered how she handled that attention. But out of deference to my father, I had kept my nose out of it.

“Amber is a chip off the old block,” my father said, going to the bar and pouring himself a stiff bourbon.

I saw my mother flinch at his dig and look away. It was clear that my father had compared his wayward daughter to her mother.

“What was that about?” I asked her.

“Are you going to tell him, or am I?” my father said, downing his drink and pouring another.

“Tell me what?” I asked.

“William, please!” my mother gave my father a pleading look.

He, in turn, stared back at her harshly in a way I had never seen before. My mother’s lips trembled, and she collapsed on a chair. She dropped her head on her hands and moaned in apparent despair.

“I hoped you never found out,” my mother said in between tears. “But I guess you deserve to know.”

“Know what?” I said, looking between my father’s stern gaze back to my mother, who forced herself to stop sobbing.

“Years ago, I cheated on your father,” she said while sniffling. “You probably hate me now, don’t you?”

I sat there stunned. Were all the women in my life stepping out on their men? Not that men didn’t cheat, but I wasn’t planning to marry one for us to have a family. I realized then how common the issue was. At this point, I was beginning to accept that monogamy, as we had been taught to believe it was but a myth for most people.

But why cheat? Why not be open about it and come to some kind of arrangement. Why lie and betray the person you were supposed to love. But my own mother? Christ! If she could, any woman could, would.

“And why do I need to know?” I replied cautiously.

“Because, son,” my father picked up, “I am not your biological father.”

That hit me like a ton of bricks.

“What!” was all I managed to blurt out. “Wait… say that again.”

Neither of them said anything. Instead, my parents stared at each other with a mixture of anger, disappointment, and dejection. But mom blinked first and turned away.

“I was young and stupid,” my mother said, looking at me now.

“She got drunk and forgot to take her pill,” my father said. “She was ovulating when she went to the conference and had her semi-annual fling with whose ever turn it was that time. Why don’t you tell him, Joyce? He deserves to know who knocked you up.”

The liquor had gotten to my dad, and he was not cutting mom any slack.

“You’re my dad,” I told him, but I still saw the pain in his gaze. “I thought you were proud of me.”

“I am,” he replied. “But you should have been mine. Instead, I have had to live with knowing the only child I produced is a social viper. It was not your fault Luke. I have tried to be a good father to you. Ever since you were born and I saw the dark hair. Neither your mom nor I look that way. But I have dark-haired relatives and thought that maybe that was it.”

“Luke, please forgive me,” my mother went back to crying.

“How long have you known?” I asked both of them.

“When you were thirteen, a friend at work got divorced. During the proceedings, her husband DNA tested their kids. Lucky for her, they were both hers. But she admitted that she had cheated on him once and was worried until the results came back. That got me thinking about you again. So I had you and your sister tested. She is mine, but you have a different biological father.”

“Donor,” I corrected him. “Don’t either of you ever call that man my father or dad?”

“Thank you, son,” my father, the only one I had known and wanted to be so, replied. “I confronted your mother after you turned fourteen. I couldn’t hold it in anymore.”

“I remember you two were cold to each other back then,” I replied. “I guess now I know why.”

I turned to her. She looked utterly defeated and crushed. Tears were drying on her cheeks as new ones were shed.

“It crushed me to find out, Luke,” she said.

“Just curious,” I asked her. “Were you cheating on dad all that time? That would be fifteen years!”

“I had stopped before that,” she replied as my dad rolled his eyes and put the liquor away.

“Why did you stop?” I asked.

“Because when you went through puberty, you started looking like him. Your voice changed, and you started to sound like him.”

“Him… as the donor?”

She did not look up but merely nodded.

“Why did you do it?” I asked.

“It was my fault, Luke,” she said. “Nothing to do with your dad. He is a good man. I was caught up in the whole group think of entitlement. That we deserved a bit of fun while we were young and in our prime. We said all kinds of things like that to each other to justify it.

“At first, I just watched others do it. Then slowly, I began to accept it as standard behaviour. Then one day, I said, why not. You only live once. Drinking some for liquid courage, I went with some guy. He wasn’t anything special sexually. The thrill was that he was different, new, and forbidden. By that point, I had convinced myself that it was just some fun on the side that meant nothing. But it did.”

Dad listened as if he had heard all this before. Letting mom continue, he Looked out the window.

“After the first time and the first man, I thought I would feel guilty. But all I worried about was that William would find out. But your dad and I got along well, and I found a new normal: my home life here and the occasional extramarital vacation of a week away from home. If anything, I had this compulsion to be as good a wife and mother possible when back home. And that came easy.”

“It did?”

“It’s hard to explain Luke. But it was how I thought back then. I was young and too naïve and self-centered to think of consequences. I could blame college feminism and talk of entitlement, but the reality is I didn’t believe I was doing anything wrong deep down. I still loved your dad, so why not?”

“How would you have felt if dad did that to you?”

“I thought about it and figured if he stepped out while I was away, who was I to tell him not to by that point.”

“You never thought of discussing it?” I asked.

“We should have,” my dad replied. “Because… because I was no angel either.”

“What!” I shook my head, not believing my ears.

“It’s why I never confronted your mom. When she was away, I had an affair with one woman, a neighbour. When she moved, a coworker took her place. Then a mother from your soccer team.”

“What the fuck!” I blurted out. “You two are something else. How did you manage to stay married after that?”

“After the DNA test, I realized that how we were, how we lived, had to change. So not only did I confront your mom, but I confessed to my own infidelity. What was the point of us living a lie and hiding it after that?”

I shook my head, trying to grasp all my parents were telling me.

“Look, son,” my mother said. “We are not perfect. We know that. But we still loved each other. Now I get it. Some people equate love with exclusivity. Fine for them. But not for us. But we went off the rails in not being honest.”

“That’s what I thought earlier when you sprung this on me. I get that some people don’t agree on exclusivity. But why lie and cheat?”

“There is a thrill to it Luke. I can’t explain it otherwise,” my dad replied.

My mother nodded in agreement.

“Luke, I know you don’t want to hear this, but you need to. You are not a child anymore. We wanted to have this talk to you about this earlier, but we kept putting it off and then you got married. After the way you found out she was cheating on you, we put it off.”

“And by then,” my dad continued. “You had gotten bitter, and to be honest, you didn’t want to hear anything your parents had to say. Do you remember how I tried talking to you once after you found out about your ex? You cut me off.”

“Anyway,” my mother continued. “Now you know. So just listen, OK?”

“Go on mom.”

“So, back to me and after my first time. The day after my first hook up, I must have been acting strange because one of the older women in the conference approached me. I confessed as she listened quietly.

“Then she told me that it was common at these conferences. That most people were married and just saw it as an opportunity to have some fun and escape their regular lives. Not to mention the ego boost from the attention they received and the enjoyment of pure sex.

“She advised me that the chances of complications were substantially lower so long as I stayed away from company men from our town branches. And I did just that. I also noticed that the men from our company never hit on us local women either.

“I was still processing it on that first time, so I didn’t do anyone else then. But in the time between conferences, I had sorted it all in my mind. Things were good at home, so why not have fun when away?

“By the next time I went to a conference, I didn’t even give it much thought. It was a matter of just who I wanted to be with. We girls would sit having drinks staring at men at the bar giggling at who was better looking. Some of the women would dance with men and let the men feel them up. Usually as a precursor to going upstairs in the hotel.

“The smarter women kept their distance on the dance floor as they made arrangements to meet the man later by giving him their room number. They would leave separately and did not let people know who they were doing or if they were.”

“I assume that is what you did,” I cut in.

“Yes, but why do you say that?” mom asked.

“You are too smart to flaunt your infidelity,” I replied. “I would be safe to say you didn’t cheat here in town and waited for your trips. Just as that woman told you to.”

My father laughed. That surprised me after all he had endured. But then I reminded myself that he had been a cheater as well.

“He has you figured out, Joyce,” he said. “Joyce Stanton is too intelligent to leave loose-ends. When she was not drunk, that is. You could place your mother in the unlucky cheater category who got caught by chance. Unfortunately, you were the by-product, and I went from just a cheater to an unwitting cuckold.

“YOU ARE NOT A CUCKOLD!” I found myself raising my voice. “You didn’t ask her to go fuck around. Cuckolds do that voluntarily. You and I were cheated on.”

It still hurt that my ex-wife had cheated on me. The cuckold tag is often tossed at men whose wives cheat. It’s victim shaming and man-bashing, as women who are cheated on are treated as victims. At the same time, the men receive scorn for what their wives did. I was not too fond of the use of that word. In fact, I hated it.

“What about me Luke?” my mother asked.

“What about you?”

“Well, your father was cheating on me as well. We both victimized each other by our deceit. Stop being judgemental of us and listen. You may learn something from our mistakes.”

While I was cheated on and had to live with that embarrassment, I had no children with my ex and didn’t have to suffer the humiliation of raising another man’s child. I could only imagine what my father had felt. At that moment, I was reminded how I had caught my father staring at me at times, only to smile at me when I asked why. He could say, “we parents do that,” and leave it at that. Poor dad.

“Why? Why did you stay?” I asked him.

“By then, I was in love with both you kids. I stayed for you two. Raising you and your sister became my mission in life. Divorce, when you have children, is not much of an option for men. You are forever on the outside of their lives. That’s not good for them. No matter what the pro-divorce people tell you, kids are scarred from divorce. They don’t “adjust.” That’s what divorced people tell themselves to ease their guilt.

“You are judging Reggie for staying with your sister, but he is doing the right thing. If he left, his kids would be without him, and some other guy would be in his house. Near his kids Luke. A stranger near his kids. I was not going to do that to you and your sister. So I stuck it out.”

“Luke, your father, is an exceptional man,” my mother said.

Dad looked away, but she stood and hugged him from behind.

“I don’t deserve him,” she said, still crying. “I realized what a shit I had been the day you got sick and ended up in the hospital. You were too young to remember.”

“I remember glimpses of that,” I said, thinking back.

“I was at work, and your father was home with you. You had a fever that spiked to 104. He took you with him to the hospital, leaving a neighbour to watch your sister. At the hospital, I watched as your father cried and prayed for you to come through it. I felt like shit for betraying him.

“Then his brother needed a transplant. Your father gave him his kidney. Luke, I have been in awe of your father for years. But I don’t deserve him.”

“You are right,” I replied. “You were disrespectful. What did dad do to you that you thought it was acceptable for you to go with other men when away from home?”

“Nothing,” she replied. “I was a spoiled and selfish young woman.”

“Does your age excuse it?” I snapped.

“No,” she replied. “But it explains it. I was so full of myself.

“After William told me about the DNA test, I crumbled,” she continued. “I couldn’t face him and just cried. I can’t tell you how many times I begged him to forgive me. It took us two years of therapy to get to be intimate again.”

“Do I need to know this?” I asked.

“Yes, you do,” my father replied, speaking for the first time in minutes. “You know, son. I get it. You went through something similar but not having children for you to stick around for; you ditched your ex and moved on. But I can see that it has left a deep mark on you. You don’t trust women, and you don’t forgive them.

“You probably look down at me for staying married to your mother. But in doing so, I raised you and your sister from inside the house. Not as an occasional visitor.

“No. I can never forget what happened, but I forgave your mom just as she forgave me. She fucked up. Royally. But she had her come to Jesus moment and came to her senses. She said she was wrong right away and begged me not to leave and to forgive her.

“She did this knowing I had cheated on her as well. I looked at myself then and was thankful I hadn’t gotten any of the women I had been with pregnant. It could have happened to me too, so I decided some compassion and understanding was in order.

“I know she gave in to the cheap thrill notion of the other men while out of town. It has not been easy to get over that. But being a man is often about swallowing your pride to face your obligations. And that is what I did.

“It took me some time to get past it… if you can get past such a thing. The anger comes up from time to time. I tell you, this crap with your sister has peeled back an old wound.”

I was about to say something when dad continued facing mom.

“Joyce, I know Amber is your pride and joy, but defending it pissed me off. Unlike you, she is unrepentant and thinks doing whatever she wants is her right. To be honest, she disgusts me. I don’t want her in the house anymore. Reggie and the girls can visit, but not her. You can go see her on your own time.”

“I understand,” mom said, wiping her eyes with a tissue. “I’ll work on her William. But you need to remember that she is our daughter. If you can forgive me, maybe you can forgive her. Please!”

I could tell my dad was not all on board, but he nodded to her.

“You have a point. But remember this. You and I asked; we “asked” each other for forgiveness. We admitted we had been wrong. Our darling daughter thinks it’s her right to do as she pleases because the law gives her that option. You didn’t do that Joyce. Why didn’t you?”

“You know why,” she said with a loving smile.

“Because, unlike Amber, you have a conscience.”

“It’s not too late to help Amber find her’s is it?” Mom replied. “Just because our kids got older doesn’t mean our obligation to them is over. Right?”

“She may be too old for a spanking, but she will get a verbal lashing for sure.”

“I’m with you there,” mom replied, hugging his arm.

“As for you,” my father said, pointing to me.

“What did I do?” I protested.

“I understand your ex cheated on you. Hearing from the cops that she had that asshole’s dick in her mouth must have been gut-wrenching. When I showed up at the hospital, the two cops who brought you over laughed about it openly. The woman cop was worse than the male, making gagging sounds. Good thing you were in the room with Lyn when that happened and didn’t see it.”

It was my turn to flinch.

“Still,” my father continued. “You still carry that with you, son. Lyn cheated on you, not Mindy. What your mom and your sister did is not your problem. It’s mine and Reggie’s. And what I did is your mom’s.”

“It is my problem,” I cut him off. “It’s the reality I may have to face if I get married and have kids with any woman. Mindy showed me a glimpse of that the night we saw Amber and the Campbell asshole together. She said not to make a scene and think of Amber’s kids and not ruin her family.”

“What is wrong with that?” my dad asked. “Look how your mother and I stayed together. Let me tell you, at the worse moments of us, you kids kept us focused. It’s all about the kids in a family. Not all, but most of it.”

“Dad, it’s what she said after that bugged me and is a deal-breaker. Mindy stated that many women did what Amber was doing. And it was not just what she said, but how she said it. As if it was a common thing and for us men to just accept it. As if it was a woman’s right. I had warned her how I felt about that, how she could choose to take that option after we had kids, and how I didn’t want to take a chance of that happening.

“So, she changed tactics and used sex and deception to make me think she was different and that she was the one for me to trust. Yet, Mindy let me know that she would be no different than Amber down the road by excusing it in mere seconds.

“No. I am done with her. She can find another sucker to manipulate,” I said, shaking my head. “You know, I had a ring in my pocket to propose to her that night?”

“Oh no!” my mother said and came to hug me.

I let her. After all, she was still my mother, and I loved her. I always will, which is why I forgave her eventually for what she did. She is the only mother I have, and unlike other women, she had asked for forgiveness and seen the light.

“I’ll live,” I managed to say. “You guys certainly gave me plenty to think about.”

“One more thing,” I said to my mother. “I need the sperm donor’s name. I want nothing from him but his family medical history. It is all I need from him.”

My mom wrote his name on a piece of paper.

“He used to practice in New York. I think he lives in Long Island in a suburb called Merrick. All I remember. I never kept in touch, but I’m positive it was him.”

They both nodded to me as I noticed them drifting to each other. I could just imagine the range of emotions the two of them had to endure in the years since the discovery of each other’s infidelity. I could not even imagine how they had faced reconciliation and recovery of their damaged marriage and keep the family together in the process.

But this was their life and their choices. As I left what had been my childhood home, I knew that I had to make my way through life from then on. I had to figure out what I wanted and how to make it happen.

***

Luke, I’m your father. No, you’re not.

I’m frustrated, angry, confused, and horny as hell. All this talk of infidelity and adultery has me on edge. My mother, sister, dad, and ex-wife have all been unfaithful. What are the chances that could happen to one man? You would think that one woman in my life would have been true and chaste in their marriages.

As I sit in my apartment, I find myself aroused, but it is a strange arousal. In my demented and confused mind, I find myself imagining being the other man. In a fit of anger, I imagine being the one defiling unknown slutty adulterous women. What was it Mindy had said about one of her other men partners at the resort? Oh yes, “he fucked my brains out.”

It took some time, but as I went on with my life, I decided that would be my way from now on. A mission to find and fuck women with no regard for their self-respect or their vows. If they were married, so be it.

Here’s the thing, though; the obstacle to that kind of thinking. No matter how angry I was, I just could not bring myself to go pick up married women at the clubs and bang them behind their husband’s backs. Each time I came close to it, I thought of my father and Reggie being cheated on and could not go on with it.

You would think that if I picked up strange women, their husbands would be unknown to me, and I could just focus on the task at hand. Nope. My conscience always got the best of me.

Frustrated and not satisfied to find a single woman for sex, I resorted to Mary Fingers taking matters “at hand” for relief. The fantasies that fueled me were of unknown married women at first. When my mind drifted to my mother and sister while jerking off, I knew I had gone over the edge and needed to get this cliff dive under control.

Checking my phone, I notice six texts and two e-mails from Mindy. The e-mails were rambling, and from right after the restaurant incident, our last date and time together. Most of her texts are the same as well: apologetic one minute, angry the next. But the last one is different.

“Luke, I know I messed up, and you have every reason to hate me. You were right. When the opportunity arose to stand on the issue, I chose your sister’s side. Not only that, but I did so without thinking of it.

As you said, the temptation of a woman’s full options is too strong to reject. In that instant, I thought as your sister did. I can only imagine your disappointment in me. But I can’t take it back. I did it, and you will remember it forever. I know how you are.

I think it’s best if we let each other find answers to what happened. My aunt in Seattle asked me to move there until I find a job. I plan on going and starting over. I will miss you like you don’t know Luke. But things are how they are.

I will love you forever and hope you find some happiness.

Mindy.”

***

I needed a break from it all. A vacation. A getaway. A temporary escape was more like it. I told my boss that afternoon that I was a mess and needed to take some leave before I popped a brain vessel.

“You are doing fine here at work,” he said, looking up from his paperwork. “So, I’m assuming it’s a personal issue?”

“Yes,” I replied cryptically.

“Two weeks?” he asked. “I need you back after that.”

“Sure. That should be plenty to clear my head. Thanks, boss,” I replied and left the office.

“I could say kids today but I was no better at your age. I bet there is a woman involved. No, don’t tell me. Just go get yourself together.”

I smiled and left. He was shaking his head as I closed his door.

***

That night, I looked for and found the note my mother had written.

“Dr Niles Lieberman, Merrick, NY.”

I stared at it for a long time, wondering who this man is that gave me life. I love my dad, and that will never change, but I was drawn to this Niles in a way I cannot explain. I didn’t want to love him. I already have a father to love. But I realized my need to meet him.

After a few internet searches, I was successful in finding him. He still lives in Merrick, I see, but no address is listed on his professional website. Sorting through his scheduling page, I found Niles Lieberman practices in the city Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday. He takes patients at a medical office in Rockville Center on Thursdays and Fridays, two towns west of Merrick. I figured that seeing him there would be better than stalking his home or catch him somewhere on the street.

Looking at appointment availabilities, I found an opening that Thursday before his designated lunch hour. It is tagged as a recent cancellation, so I clicked on it and reserved it before the slot is snatched by someone else. With that done, I looked for and made airline reservations, a hotel room, and rented a vehicle. Packing for a few days, I sat at my desk and stared at the picture of the man in a dark suit staring back at me. The resemblance is uncanny.

I noticed that we have the same eyes, nose, chin, and even similar slight smiles. The only difference is our eyes. I have my mother’s green-grey pigment while his are darker, possibly brown. While there are surprisingly few grey hairs on his temples, they made him look distinguished. He is very handsome.

Looking online and on social media, I found an account tagged Niles Lieberman on Facebook. Just a few glances at his pictures, and I can tell it is him. And he had plenty of photos to browse through.

At first, there were images of his family. I noticed a redheaded woman that is his wife. Then his two daughters. One redhead is like mom, while the other has a long dark mane and looks like her father. There are usually pictures of family dinners and graduations. The man has had a good life and fortune. Their home has a long driveway, plenty of gardening, and three garage doors. I’m reminded of the phrase by one of my bosses of the upscale area he lives in.

“If you have three garages in Mayville, you have better have three expensive cars to put in them to match the pool and tennis court.”

And sure enough, Niles and his wife Brenda are avid tennis players and have a pool. Pictures of my half-sisters swimming in their bikinis are typical of girls their age. But Brenda is stunning in a one-piece suit. Niles is fit himself. He belonged to a swim club, and I noticed that he was a swimmer in college.

In a separate album, there are older pictures of him at a college swim event. The guy was undoubtedly buff and packed in his speedo. It makes me wonder if that was what made mom take notice. He oozes confidence. I have inherited his genes for sure, as I have a similar body and package size. At least he did something good for me.

Moving to an album tagged “conferences,” I froze. Right there, I saw a picture of approximately thirty people staring at the camera. Each of them is labelled, including Niles on the top left and my mother on the right. She is sitting slightly sideways, wearing shorts and exhibiting her long legs and other assets. Everyone is smiling at the staged photo. Most of the women and men are fit and appealing. I wondered how many of the men my mother slept with. Did she spread it around all the times she was away from home, or did she have favourites?

Looking in that album, I find other pictures like it from different conferences. Twice a year, there are many. And both Niles and my mom are in the photos. Then the date of one caught my eye.

The location was a Florida Keys hotel, explaining the matching shorts and t-shirts they all are wearing with its logo. The image is dated October 1992, making me take notice. Nine months before I am born. Mom is sitting next to Niles!

I move forward to six months later at their next seminar. San Diego this time, and my mother is clearly pregnant and flaunting it. She stood sideways, smiling at the camera as Niles stands on the other side of the picture with arms crossed and sporting the same smirk I often have in some of my photographs. He looks like a spitting image of me!

***

I drove out of JFK International Airport and let the GPS guide me toward the Long Island hotel I’ was to stay at. It was the night before my appointment with Niles Lieberman, and sleep was hard to come by and fitful. I woke to a nightmare around six AM. Thankfully, in seconds I could remember it. I took a shower and tried to calm down. But it is not easy. My hands shook when I had breakfast at a nearby Greek Diner. They are everywhere on the east coast.

“You’re not from New York, are you?” the shapely waitress asked.

I can’t make out her age. I guess her to be anything from twenty-eight to thirty-two. Some women are just timeless to me. Her body was stunningly tight, and she had a friendly smile. Her jet-black hair was cut to just the beginning of her pretty neck. When I looked at her hands, she realized what I am looking for.

“No, sweetheart,” she giggles. “I’m not married. And even if I was, we don’t wear our rings while we work. They get in the way. I notice you are single.”

“I am. My name is Luke.”

“Celia,” she replies. “Nice to meet you, Luke.”

The smile she gives me says she is interested. And not having had a woman in a while, I have interest in her to spare.

But before I can say anything, she leans over as if to refill my cup.

“I get off at four in the afternoon. If you are here when I do, we can do something together. If not, here is my cell number. Call me, and we can get together later. Does that sound good?”

From the way we look at each other, we both know it is more than “good.”

“Are all women like you in New York?” I ask with the smile I inherited from Niles.

“No, Luke,” she replies, standing straight. “I’m unique and special. See you at four. If not, you won’t know what you are missing.”

As I watched her shapely ass and legs sashay to other tables, I was liking New York. Celia, at least.

Smiling at her before I left, I received a similar response and her mouthing a single word: four. Unless something happened, I planned on making that date.

***

I was early for my appointment with Dr Niles Lieberman. His receptionist, a beautiful black woman in her mid-twenties, stared at me for a few seconds, then confirmed my name and insurance information. But I could tell she had noticed the resemblance between the good doctor and myself.

“You are all checked in,” she replied, taking the forms I had filled. “There is a fifteen dollar copay.”

“Thank you… Luanda,” I said, reading the nameplate on her desk before handing her my credit card.

Her curiosity was peaked, but she did not ask the obvious question. As I sat across from her in the waiting room, she stared back with her pleasant ebony face more than once. If I weren’t planning on meeting Celia later on, Luanda would be an attractive person to get to know. Yes, I’ve done black and planned to go back. Don’t judge.

In five minutes, the door opened for a heavyset man in his thirties to come out.

“Mr Stanton,” Luanda said with a head shake as if I had done something wrong. “The doctor will see you now?”

“Thank you, Luanda,” I said, walking past her and giving her “the” smile.

It was then she put two and two together, and her mouth dropped open.

“Oh, my God!” she blurted out. “You’re his…”

I placed a finger over my lips to her and went through the door, glad she had not figured it out before and warned him.

“Please sit down,” I heard a voice remarkably like mine from a side room. “I’ll be right there. I’m doctor Lieberman. I see you are a new patient from out of state. What brought you here?”

But I didn’t sit. Instead, I stood waiting for Niles to return. When I peeked in, he had been standing by a printer, so we did not make eye contact. But when he turned around, he froze, staring at me.

“I have to be honest,” I replied. “I have a unique case that only you can help me with.”

He offered his hand cautiously, still staring at me in amazement. It had to be more shocking to him than me. After all, I knew what was going on. He did not.

“If you won’t sit, I will, Mr Stanton.”

“Please call me Luke,” I said, sitting on the other side of the desk.

I know he wanted to ask but was hesitant to do so.

“Please sit. Ok. So what can I do for you today?”

“I have a problem,” I reply.

“It’s what I’m here for. Talk to me.”

“See, my parents and I had a conversation recently. And it has left me with many questions.”

“Excuse me, Mr Stanton.”

“Have you and I met before?”

“No. I can guarantee you that,” I reply. “But I think you know my mother.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes, Dr Lieberman,” I replied, opening a folder I had with me.

He stared with curiosity as I took out a picture of my mother around the time I was born. I also had printed image copies of her and him together from his Facebook picture gallery. They are from both conferences, both before and after mom’s baby bump. Placing them before him, I looked as he stared at all three and then up at me.

“Are you? Are you and Joyce related?” he asked. “It is obvious you, and I are.”

“My mother is pregnant with me in that picture. Niles. You don’t mind if I call you that do you?”

“Go right ahead,” he said, staring at the pictures.

Neither of us said anything about the 800-pound gorilla in the room, but we both knew we would sooner or later.

“Are you… are you my son?” Niles asked.

“I am the product of that October 92 weekend,” I replied. “But William Stanton is my father.”

“I see,” he said, staring at me at first, then nodding. The pictures, seemingly forgotten as he looked at the form with my information. “Can I call you Luke?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Formalities are kind of silly at this point. Don’t you think?”

“I agree,” he replied, shaking his head. “I never knew…”

“Mom never told you?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Not in all the years we have gone to the same conferences and seminars out of town. Never.”

“I have to ask, were you and her regular lovers or just one of many?”

Niles flinched at my forwardness, but to his credit, he nodded, accepting my right to ask.

“Well… the group we were in began the tradition of liaisons between out-of-town attendees years before us. Back in the sixties, we were told. When we younger people started attending, the others were used to it and brought us into the fold. Has your mother explained any of it to you?”

“A general idea. Since my father was present, she didn’t go into lurid details.”

“Understandable,” he replied. “So, I gather your… father. William, right if I remember correctly?”

“Yes,” I acknowledge. “Dad figured it out early. No one in our family had jet black hair.”

“And he stayed with her and raised you?”

“My father is a good man,” I said, straightening in my chair. “An exceptional man.”

“Quite, I’m sure,” Niles said, looking back at the pictures. “The last time I saw your mother was five months ago. She never said a thing.”

“Do you two… still get together at conferences?”

“No, not for quite some time,” he replied. “But we are still good friends and colleagues. As we got older, I guess we both joined the non-participating group at the conferences. It happens. I knew she had children, but she never mentioned anything to me about… this. How long has she known? I mean, how…”

“They both suspected but skirted the issue for some time. Dad was suspicious and had my sister and I DNA tested. She is his. You were apparently my sperm donor.”

Niles looked at me, weighing my description of him but not reacting. I wonder if I would have been able to do so in his situation. In some ways, he reminds me of mom when she analyzes people. It must be something they learned in those seminars, amongst other things.

“I can tell you are still dealing with the revelations. How long ago did they tell you about me?”

“Two weeks,” I said, sitting back. “We had some family issues with my sister, and it came up.”

“All this time!” he said, looking up at the ceiling for a few seconds. “Why didn’t she say anything?”

“My parents dealt with this over a decade ago from what they told me. It turns out that my father had also cheated on her, and they both came clean. Apparently, after two years of counselling, they managed to patch things up.”

“I didn’t even know she was married when she and I first hooked up. Joice was Ms Stanton. Back in those days, professional women were all about using that title, and lord helped the man who questioned it. It never occurred to me to ask.”

“What about when she showed up pregnant next time?”

Niles was quiet for a few seconds, gathering his thoughts.

“It’s hard to explain Luke. It was a different time when people were trying to shed old notions of marriage and sexual morals. We were all participating in sexual promiscuity. Everyone assumed that some of us were married, but no one placed other people in that uncomfortable position to confirm they were adulterous.

“We just assumed that we all had loved ones back home, and the conferences were a vacation from our regular lives. No one advertised it either. We would socialize, dance and then pair off or not. I’m sure some people, like myself and your mother, chose to stop having dalliances for personal reasons. No one asked.

“I wish she had told me Luke. Why? Why didn’t she tell me?”

“Come on Niles,” I replied. “I’m no therapist, and I can tell you.”

“Please do,” he said, waving his hand for me to go on.

“OK, the first consultation is free, but after that….”

We both laughed, breaking the tension. No matter how I had felt before, Niles was a nice guy. It was not his fault my mom was screwing around on my dad and that she hadn’t taken the pill.

“She and my father chose to keep things as they were Niles. They liked the life and family they had and chose to let sleeping dogs lie.”

“That simple, eh?”

“It worked for them… until they told me. And here I am.

“Luke,” he said, leaning forward. “I swear to you. I never knew you existed. I mean, I knew Joyce had a son, but I never saw you or pictures of you, nor did she tell me.”

“What if she had? Told you, I mean. What would you have done?”

“I would have done as Joyce wanted,” he replied. “But I would have asked her to meet you or know of you. I have two wonderful girls, but you are the only son I have.”

He saw me stiffen.

“Luke, I am not trying to usurp William’s place in your life. He raised you. Fifteen minutes ago, I didn’t even know you existed.”

“I understand that it is a shock,” I said. “It was for me as well. My parents went through a lot for that weekend of fun you, and she had.”

“Luke, this is not going to sound good to hear, but what your mother and I did back then was just pure sex and fun. All the women were on the pill or had diaphragms or IUDs for birth control.

“We just did what you kids call hooking-up in the evenings and often with different partners. To be honest, I can’t remember who else I was with that weekend other than your mom. It was long ago.

I just stared back, trying to come to terms with everything and failing.

“Are you angry about all this? You seem tense.”

“I forgot you are a therapist like mom. Are you planning to analyze me?”

“No, Luke,” Niles said. “I just want to understand and give you whatever you need from our meeting. Shit, my wife is going to be shocked about this. So will my daughters.”

“Were you married when I was conceived?”

“No,” he shook his head. “I met my wife in ninety-four. We married in ninety-five. So, I don’t have to explain that.”

“Does your wife know what you and the other therapists do at the seminars?”

“No, but she will when I have to tell her how you came about. But I have not done anything with anyone at the conferences for years. If you tell her, it will probably end us. Is that your goal here? Retribution?”

And there it was. What had I come here for? Had I come just to meet him? Or to take revenge on this man and ruin his life? And if so, for what? For having sex with my twenty-something mom who told him she was on the pill? For never knowing he had a son? Never having seen me grow up?

And if so, what did it say about me? As I watched this man, I barely knew. This man whose genes ran through my body, I didn’t see a monster or a manipulative asshole. He had not “seduced” my mother. She had given it to him willingly. How many men had fallen prey to that?

I often wondered when I was out screwing women who told me they were single if they were so or lying. How many took off their rings, leaving them in their car ashtray to don again before going home to their unsuspecting husbands? I could easily have been in his shows. Hell, for all I knew, I might have been and not known yet. A young man or woman could show up in my life years from now. Oh, Christ!

“No. I’m not going to ruin you. This is not my intention.”

“What then? Money?”

“I just wanted to know how it happened. Under what circumstances I came about.”

“I think I told you most of it.”

“What do you people who don’t participate do these days at seminar time.”

He chuckled and smiled. An at peace look of an older man who had been and done that.

“We sit together separate from the… participants and just talk. And we no longer have individual rooms. We abstainers have roommates of the same sex. It helps. I think.”

“Did any of you question the fact that you were cheating on your spouses?”

“I wish I could tell you we did. But to be honest, once a person decides to cross that line, they rarely regret it unless they are caught and lose everything. I see people come to me with infidelity in their history. Some have guilt issues, but most do not. Actually, I can separate the two into two categories.”

I listened intently to understand.

“The ones who just do it for fun and sex rarely feel guilt. Not the way the others do anyway.”

“Others?”

“Those who have emotional as well as sexual relationships. Those who fall in love with others know they betrayed their spouse more so and more profoundly than those just having sex. Have you ever fallen in love with a person other than someone you are in a relationship with Luke?”

“No,” I replied. “My ex cheated on me. I heard from her lawyer that it was just sex. But by then, I didn’t care. She is the one that has to live with it. Not me.”

“I see,” he replied. “So, it is safe to assume you have never cheated on anyone you had an exclusive relationship with?”

“No,” I said. “But then, I only had one exclusive relationship: my marriage. So, what I did with others was not the concern of those I dated. No cheating and no guilt.”

“Good for you, Luke,” he replied. “I’m happy for you. You see, those of us that crossed that line… we have to deal with our indiscretions in one way or another. I know I stopped and took stock of my life, probably as your mom did. And yes, I did cheat on my wife as your mom did with your father. But unlike those who formed attachments and wanted to divorce and take someone’s spouse away, we only borrowed them every six months or less. We never did everyone that was at the seminars each time.”

“Did that make it better?” I asked, curious about his thought process.

“Luke, we can play morality or talk reality. What do you want to do?”

I wasn’t satisfied with the question that was his answer, but I had asked, and he was explaining. So, I settled back to hear.

“Not once did I ever want the wife of another man to leave him for me,” he said. “And from what I can remember, no seminar attendee that was part of the share-culture ever did. It was sex, pure and simple. We had our home family life, and once every six months, we got together and had sex with other people. And yes, we stopped at a certain point because, if nothing else, we didn’t want to lose our families over some side sex.

“This may offend you, but your mom was just a friend and sex partner occasionally. But she was one of many over the years, and I was never in love with her. And neither was she with me.”

“So a world where sex is just sex, people have affairs as they please, and exclusive sex with someone one we love is dead?”

“Oh no. Far from it. Plenty of people live with that premise. But looking at divorce statistics, it’s bleak out there. And the legal divorce situation is not helping. They are helping me have patients but not keeping marriages together.”

“Don’t get me started on that Niles,” I acknowledged his view. “My sister is a divorce lawyer and cheater. I know all too well, I caught her cheating, and she played it off by threatening to take the kids from her husband.”

“Oy, vay!” he said, rolling his eyes. “HaShem, protect us.”

“Excuse me?” I said, not understanding him.

“I forgot, you’re not from Long Island, the American Israel. The Oy part was Yiddish, and meant of wow as in dismay. HaShem means God in Hebrew. We mix it up. We Jews are a funny people. But then we win wars, so it evens out.”

We both shared another laugh.

“You learn something every day. So I’m part Jewish?”

“Yes, but only on your father’s… I mean the male side.” He tried to be polite and not usurp my dad’s place. “Now, if your mother was Jewish, you get the full treatment. Israel would welcome you as a proper Jew.”

“Whatever happened to the patriarchy?”

“Ha!” Niles laughed.

“In Judaism, it’s worth bupkus. Yiddish for nothing much. So what were you raised as?”

“Christian. Non-denominational, which means you just believe in Christ and not in a specific church.”

“But the old testament is what we believe in Luke. And your messiah was a Jew. So you’re in the tribe one way or another. We got you.”

“Even the way I came into it?”

“Look here Luke,” Niles replied, all serious by this point. “I’m not that big on religion either. But I think that God is not vengeful. And you, my boy, have done nothing to offend Him. Your mother and I, on the other hand? Well, you turned into a good man, right?”

“Mom is more upset that my dad was disrespected than my being created,” I replied. “After all, it was her that didn’t take her birth control pill.”

“Please tell me she didn’t say she skipped her pills on purpose to get pregnant,” Niles asked.

“No,” I replied. “She said that before she came to that seminar, she had gotten drunk at some event and probably forgot to take her pill one day. As you know…”

“Yeah, I know. Skipping one day can make a woman fertile.”

We stared at each other for a few seconds, both having so much to say and ask.

“So, what do we do now Luke?” he asked.

“Well, we can go to lunch after this,” I replied. “Isn’t my appointment almost over?”

“Yes, and lunch is my treat.”

“You may change your mind after I tell you what’s next.”

It is a good thing Niles was not swallowing when I told him because he might have choked. Still, he took it in stride.

***

I made the four o’clock date with Celia. And let me tell you, it was certainly worth it. There is something about a good looking slightly older woman that every young man should experience at least once in their life. I knew she was, but she sure didn’t look it.

Unlike younger women who think they have boys by the balls, older women are more mature and secure in themselves. They rarely, if ever cock tease a man. If they are interested, they act on it. And when they do, they appreciate a man who takes the time to rock their world.

Celia was insatiable and very enthusiastic, to say the least. She was probably the most impressive lover I had to date. In two hours, we did more than most people do in a night. We are talking around the world. Oral, vaginal, and anal without my having to ask.

While Niles was home explaining to his family that he had just met a son he did not know he had, Celia and I showered, went to dinner, and went back for round two. By this point, we were more comfortable with one another and took our time to do everything again with no time limits. We stopped by her place to pick up her work clothes for the next day and other things she needed for an overnight stay.

In between sex bouts, I learned she had a son and daughter both in the military. Her husband had died in Iraq back in ’08, so she had raised the kids alone. Her son was an Army medic, while her daughter was a navy electrician on a carrier. And she was “accessible” to date and have fun. She had a couple of semi steady boyfriends, but no one exclusive.

Celia asked me if we would see each other later the following day before she went to work. Not knowing what was going on with Niles, I said we had to play it by ear. She nodded sadly. Probably thinking she would never see me again.

“It’s not a brush off Celia,” I said. “I just don’t know what is going on with me and my… whatever I call my sperm donor.”

“That’s rude Luke,” she said. “Just call him by his name if you can’t call him father.”

“I stand corrected,” I replied. “but I plan on calling you and letting you know what’s going on.”

“It’s OK,” she said. “I understand.”

Not wanting to push her, I nodded, and she kissed me goodbye. I hardly knew Celia, but I found myself liking her. She was not old enough to be my mom or anything. But she had this confident mature way about her that endeared her to me. Younger women rarely exhibit that trait.

***

Niles called me around ten in the morning. We got together at a different diner for brunch and conversation. My relationship with Celia was new and tentative, so I wanted it separate from Niles.

“Luke, I talked to my family about you last night.”

“How did it go?”

“A bit rough at first until your age came out, so Brenda knows you came before we were married. She is a bit concerned and wants to meet you. And so, do my girls.”

“Are you sure?”

“If you promise me not to tell them about the seminar sex club at all,” he replied. “You do that, and you can forget our agreement. I have been upfront with you.”

“OK. It’s a deal. How did you explain it to your women?” I asked.

“Since you are now family, they are your women as well,” he said before continuing. “I told the truth. An encounter that turned into pregnancy with me not knowing until yesterday. Pretty much accurate without mentioning the sex club thing.”

“Anything I need to know before I show up?”

“Are you free today?” he asked.

“I would like to be back by four,” I replied. “If not, I need to know to make a call.”

“You know people in New York?” he asked.

“Niles, I know you and I are related, but I’m a bit too old for you to be asking where I’m going.”

He laughed at that.

“My bad,” he replied, still smiling. “I should have known. You are a handsome guy and probably found someone already.”

I said nothing but gave him “the smirk.” One he understood.

“Oh, I remember being your age and…” he stopped midsentence when the implications of where that had gotten him with my mother hit his mental lightbulb. “Sorry.”

“It’s OK. It’s just that I just met this woman, and I kind of like her.”

“How so?” he asked. “Humor me. The therapist in me is always looking for answers to the human condition.”

“You and mom just can’t help yourselves, can you?”

“Whatever,” he dismissed my reservations at him, analyzing me and waved me on. “Woman you met here?”

“Yes. She was my waitress, and we liked each other from the start. She spent all night with me in my hotel room.”

“The sex must have been good for you to have a repeat. So, what do you like about this woman? Does she have a name?”

“Celia,” I continued. “She is older than me. She already has kids, so she is not a threat or a contender for mother of my children.”

“Sounds like you are telling me she is safe,” Niles said in a professional manner therapist have. Just like mom. “Why is that.”

It was uncanny how quickly Niles figured me out; it was also unnerving. It was as if we had a connection of some kind already, and he was reading my mind. For a few seconds, I felt like my link was him was a betrayal to dad back home. But I shook that aside. Niles was Niles and could never be what dad and I had. This was new and separate.

“If I told you, would this be confidential as a doctor-patient thing?”

“No,” he replied quickly and emphatically. “With you being my biological son, professional ethics kick in. I cannot be a therapist for you. While I am trained as one, this is between us as men. That said, if you request confidentiality, I will abide by it. It is the least I can do for you.”

“OK,” I nodded. “I can respect that. Are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Luke, hearing people is what I do. Consider this a freebie. After all, you paid for an hour of therapy yesterday. Just talk. I’ll listen. Consider it part of our get to know each other, thing.”

“Thing! Do therapists call people’s life phases things?”

“I’m not your therapist,” he reminded me. “We went over that.”

“All right, all right. So, I have this issue,” I relented and saw Niles perk up. “It is a woman trust issue.”

“Go on.”

“You are such a therapist,” I chuckled.

“I can’t help it. Now I’m intrigued,” he waved me on impatiently. “Trust issues with women. Go on.”

“I mean, my ex-wife, sister, and mother cheated. Are you surprised I would have trust issues?”

“Common to have them after that many people in your life exhibiting that behaviour. But how does it manifest in you?”

“The thought of having children with a woman that can then just take them from me terrifies me. Both my father and brother in law stayed with their spouse for the kids. Do you know what happens to fathers in divorce court?”

“Please,” he said, raising a palm to stop me. “I live in New York. Divorce is a common blood sport here. Understandably, you would be wary under the circumstance. But not all women cheat. And if I can judge from my female patients these days, even if they cheat, they don’t want a divorce.

“Those that do after they cheated are the ones who delude themselves in being in love with the guy they cheated with.”

“Delude? How so.”

“Some women are hopeless romantics. So are some men, by the way. They confuse affairs as meeting their soulmate. Usually, these people have marital issues and have fallen out of love. Or they can’t fathom the notion of just sex. That cheapens their self-image. So, in their minds, it has to be love. In reality, it is rarely true love. Mostly infatuation and the excitement of forbidden sex.

“Women seem to be moving away from that. The higher their income and education, the more likely they are to have sex-only lovers. They get love at home.”

“What kind of love is there if they lie and betray their spouse’s trust?” I asked.

“Luke, I have to break it to you, but different people have different definitions of love. You just need to find someone who shares your view.”

I wouldn’t say I liked his answer. It reminded me of his indiscretion with my mother that led to my existence. As much as I disapproved of what she had done, I was here, alive in the form and body I had because this man and mom had unintentionally created me.

“I haven’t been lucky with women so far. The last one fooled me until the last minute before I proposed. I guess I was lucky to find out.”

He asked me what had happened, so I told him how Mindy had taken my cheating sisters’ side only to make excuses for her.

“That doesn’t mean you have to quit because of what a few women did,” he retorted. “Which leads us to this woman you met. What is different about her?”

Again, his ability to decipher my thinking so quickly after meeting me unnerved me. Niles was right. Celia was different.

“She is older and has children. And she says she had her tubes tied, so no chance of kids with me.”

“Ah… so no chance of betrayal and absconding with your future offspring.”

“Exactly.”

“So, she is fun to be with and safe. But you still have an outstanding problem.”

“What would that be?” I asked, knowing what it was.

“You want children of your own.”

He was right. I didn’t reply other than to nod.

“You are certainly in a quandary Luke,” he said, nodding to himself. “Sooner or later, you will have to trust someone. And regrettably, it will not be this fine woman you are not threatened by.”

I hardly knew Celia, so his prophetic seeing of my dubious future didn’t bother me.

“Niles, how do you deal with it?”

“What? You mean, how do I trust Brenda?”

“Yes,” I said. “Especially knowing what you know about people and how they step out on their spouses.”

“Fair question,” he said. “There are no guarantees in life, Luke. Bad things happen as well as good. Brenda has never given me cause to wonder. But that does not mean I am naïve. I keep my eyes open, and I had both my girls DNA tested some years ago. They are your half-sisters and my daughters, for your information. Still, my wife is an intelligent woman. If she ever decided to step out on me, she is smart enough to cover her tracks. Most women do Luke. And most husbands don’t want to believe their loving wives would be the stepping out kind.”

“Denial is bliss for some. Not for me,” I replied. “I know they can. And if they can and do, my kids will be lost to me. I would rather not have kids under those conditions.”