Just Once, However, …

The Challenge:

So, what does Rick do?

… I will leave it up to other writers to come up with their own [ending].

So, do your best. Have fun with it. You don’t need my permission.

– Kalimaxos

That’s how Kalimaxos ended his offering, “Just Once… If You Don’t Mind?” when it was published on 4/18/2021.

I started in a different direction on this, but as I built it out, I realized some of the characters had their feelings hurt and insisted that I was going in the wrong direction. They kept hammering at me to change my ending’s thrust. I went ahead and published the ending I originally conceived of and am now being given no rest until I do the other ending as well. SOoo … some of this version will be similar to the “Paperwork” version but this one will go in a decidedly different direction because of the way certain characters themselves told me they felt things would more likely play out.

 

When I finished reading Marcy’s, “I’m going to fuck Dr. Assbutter for 6 weeks, then let’s forgive and forget” letter, I noticed Leslie was at the kitchen island filling her glass again.

“Are you OK?” she asked.

“I will be,” I replied.

She nodded and came back with the bottle and her filled glass. Sitting next to me this time, she refilled my glass and turned to look at me with those doe-like eyes.

“So, Rick? What do we do?” She looked at me, … took a sip of her wine, … and looked at me again.

I didn’t know what to do at that moment. I looked down staring at the wine in my glass. It was hard to stop thinking about what Marcy and I were going to do six weeks from now and instead think about what I was going to do about this evening. I started imagining a spreadsheet with rows of action options and columns of possible outcomes. I wondered if I’d wasted 24 years, then recalled images of my children’s faces, .. nope not wasted. I thought about love and why -! The sound of wine being poured into an empty glass broke through my reverie.

“I’m sorry, Leslie. I’m obviously distracted. Didn’t you just fill that glass before you sat down?”

“Yes, but that was fifteen minutes ago, Rick. I certainly get that this has been a shock for you and I think we can agree that Marcy should have told you what was going on. If you want me to go away, I can check back with you later this week. If it would be helpful for you, I could stay and go over options with you. I have a degree in psychology with an emphasis on research so I can be a pretty decent sounding board. If you’re just mad as hell at Marcy and some really hard revenge sex would make you feel better, then I can also help with that.” She stared intently at me without breaking eye contact and took another sip of wine.

I thought I might just need a sounding board to keep an even keel in the next few days. Marcy should damn well have had the decency to talk to me before she left – or at least left a note or something besides a cold rumpled side of the bed when she left. Was all of that, “love you forever” stuff in the letter that Leslie delivered in her behalf, just B.S.? Your goddamned right I was pissed at her!

“Leslie, I’ve never seen you drink anything but wine. Is your repertoire broader than that?”

“It is, but I can get out of hand pretty quickly with some of the other stuff so I usually stick with wine for back yard parties and situations where I’m not sure how things will go.”

“Well, I’ve got a handle of good Reposado, a new bottle of Cointreau, and a three pound bag of limes. Can I make you a margarita?”

“Oooohh, … tequila is my Achilles heel.”

I turned on some danceable music and in about an hour, we’d each knocked out two glasses of really top shelf margaritas. I say “glasses” because I’m not sure how many that would be at our local watering hole, since I made them in souvenir beer glasses with a line labeled, “0.5 Litre”, a half inch from the top. Leslie felt good against me. In fact she felt very good. When we danced, she molded her entire body onto mine. It seemed that the only parts of our bodies not in constant contact were below our knees.

Leslie had just gone from running her luscious lips up my neck to running the tip of her tongue along my collar bone. I held her a little more firmly against me and she responded by making a slight shimmy motion to make sure I knew she wasn’t wearing a bra that would keep her hardened nipples from making an impression on my chest.

“Leslie, I don’t want to wake up alone. Can you stay through breakfast?” She didn’t utter a word, just looked directly into my eyes and nodded rapidly three times. I scooped her up and turned toward the hallway. Her eyes got as big as saucers and then she put her hands on either side of my head and pressed her lips firmly against mine. As we entered the hall, her tongue entered my mouth. We stayed interconnected all the way to the master suite.

That event became exactly what Leslie had offered, revenge sex. It began as a bout of missionary and then changed to doggy that my vicious thrusts turned into a prone-boning rush to orgasm. It was harshly enacted by both parties. Its harshness might possibly be attested to by visible bruises on hip bones or arms in a day or two.

A while later, she woke me up and we enjoyed a more leisurely exchange of fluids. A few hours later, I woke her with my tongue and when she grabbed my hair and held me in place, I knew I was providing her significant pleasure. She returned the favor and we drifted off to sleep once again.

With sunlight streaming through a crack in the curtains, I was awakened by the wonderful sensation of soft kisses on my lips, eyes, lips, neck, chest and then back to my lips. Without words she proceeded to initiate the sweetest and most loving session of physical intimacy I’d experienced in some months.

I let the office know I’d be in after lunch and made breakfast for the two of us. Leslie was very bright, sweet, and and uplifting. She headed out the back door and through the gate to her house after a breakfast highlighted by laughter, bacon, eggs, and French toast. Her retreating form was also very sweet.

Thinking about what I’d just spent the last 16 hours doing brought me back to the big question. Having indulged in some revenge, some fun, and some pain relief, I now required some time in serious thought. Did these activities make everything OK between Marcy and myself? Did our marriage stand a chance? I needed to lay out the facts.

1. Marcy really believed I had cheated on her in Korea and in the desert.

2. I “knew” she had cheated on me, but really had no proof about her early hours at the hotel next door to the hospital that stopped when I returned.

3. She said in her letter and the phone call from hell that her fucking Dr. Asswipe and my time with Leslie are totally insignificant as far as us spending the rest of our lives together in a blissful, loving Happily-Ever-After.

4. I knew my “cheating” with Deirdre was unacceptable, but was a one time, “OMG, we’re actually ALIVE”, non-penetrative event that lasted one hour.

5. Marcy’s fuckfest with Dr. Asshole was pre-planned, deceptive, and launched without so much as a kiss or a, “good-bye, I love you”.

6. Her letter, delivered by her prearranged, “Here, I left you some microwaveable leftover pussy in a Tupperware container in the fridge,” was an ultimatum that, boiled down to the nitty gritty, was her saying:

“I really don’t give a damn about what you think, I’m doing what I want and – FUCK – YOU! That message delivered, Rick, I would still rather spend the rest of my days in a comfortable home with you and not have to work too hard on relationships for the rest of my days. If you aren’t willing to accept all this then, Kiss-Off!! I won’t contend a divorce, and I’ll fuck Dr. Trey or anyone else I want to as long as they’ll have me so just split the proceeds of our life together and have a nice life. I’ll see you on, ‘family holidays’, maybe.”

This all boiled down to total miscommunication for items 1, 2, 4, and if I were honest, all of number 6, though it was her miscommunication, not mine. Item 3 was, … well, … it was, … not untrue if we both totally and unreservedly accepted it as our future path.

Number 5 was a tough one. Even knowing she was sneaking out to cheat on me for 6 weeks, if she honestly expected to completely reconcile our relationship upon her return, wouldn’t it be in her best interest to leave on a good solid, “I love you and will miss you,” footing?? That would align with her ostensible desire to show she still, “loves,” me?!?!

I took a few days off work to try to make sense of all of this. I did take Leslie up on her offer to help me analyze our situation and focus on the long term while trying to avoid short term hurts. She was very professional and really knew her stuff. I was impressed.

I was also impressed by her ability to make me relax and feel better. We worked on feeling better probably probably 5 times in the first week and then it tapered off to about three times a week for the next couple. It often started off with Les humming or singing Joe Nichols’s, “Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off”, and lasted overnight.

Part of Leslie’s advice and part of my consulting kit bag included the decision influencing philosophy that:

1. It’s always best to retain as many options as you can. Avoid making “Final”, “Absolute” decisions as long as you can to retain those options.

2. Regret is a lifelong spirit killer. Don’t allow spite or revenge or personal pride to lead you down the road to lifelong regret. Make decisions that you will be proud of and be able to affirm in ten or twenty years. If it’s the right thing to do, then it’s the right thing to do.

In keeping with that philosophy, I made appointments with a family law attorney so I could understand the options and implications of “staying” and of “going”. I also explored the possibility of relocating to a different office of my company and what the communities were like where those other offices were located.

Leslie’s husband, Vincent, was a big-time voyeur that was in a Stag-Vixen relationship with Leslie. He’d encouraged her to be intimate with me, in the hope that he could enjoy some time observing our activities. The second week, the three of us had diner together with Vincent grilling on his patio. I came through the the gate that separated our two yards brandishing a bottle of Pinot Noir wine and six-pack of Black and Tan.

“Rick, welcome in! Go ahead and take that into the kitchen.” Vincent nodded toward the open slider. “Please bring me out one of those.” He pointed his tongs at the six pack, “There are frosted mugs in the freezer.”

Leslie was in the kitchen preparing a salad and humming her tequila theme song. When she realized I’d entered her space, she broke into a big smile, wiped her hands, threw her arms around my neck, and delivered a very affectionate kiss. “Would you please open the wine, Rick?”

I finished pouring her a generous glass of the deep red liquid. She showed me where the frosted mugs were and as I poured Vincent and I each a full one, she said, “He’s going to ask you at some point tonight.” Her eyebrows were raised.

“Thanks for the warning, Les.” I hefted the two mugs and exited the kitchen.

Back outside Vincent and I sipped our beer and chatted about sports and the neighborhood. We sat down to a delicious dinner. Vincent definitely knew his way around a grill. After the dishes were cleared and we were sitting outside enjoying the sunset and our drinks, he asked the question.

“Rick, I’m really happy that you and Leslie have hit it off so well.”

I glanced at Leslie and she was studying the “windows” left by the the alcohol as she swirled tghe wine in her her glass. “Yes, I guess we have. She’s a multi-talented lady. I’m not sure i could’ve gotten my act together without her help on analyzing my situation.”

“I know you’re aware of my predilection for viewing bedroom activities. What you may not be aware of, is that Leslie has decided that in order to focus on your needs, she and I have not been having sex since Marcy left.”

I shot a glance at her. That wine glass must have had her full attention because she was not looking at either of us. “Oh, I didn’t realize that, Vincent.”

“It’s not a huge deal as it’s happened before – the last time she felt she needed to focus on the beginning of a long term relationship. I would, however, really appreciate it if you could be generous enough to allow me to pop over and observe some time.”

I glanced at her once again to see if she was indicating her desire in the matter. Her glass still held her focus with her eyebrows knit and her lips pressed in a line of concentration. No hints from her one way or the other.

“Well,” I looked squarely at my host, “I’m afraid that I’m just not at a point where I can be comfortable with that situation, right now.”

“OK. I get that, Rick. I was just hoping, but I would not want to be in the way.”

A glance at Leslie revealed a barely controlled smile and a relieved look on her now very smooth brow. “Thanks for being understanding about this,” I told Vincent. “Are you ready for another beer?”

Dinner continued with reasonable congeniality. Vincent didn’t whine about it and was generally displaying good spirits. At one point, I was in the kitchen with Leslie again after carrying plates inside and she said that he was doubtless disappointed, but it was how they lived and he would be OK.

As the evening wound down and I prepared to head home through the back gate, Leslie offered some leftovers and I accepted. She said she would help me carry the containers home. As we gathered the containers – not enough to really require her help – she gave Vincent a quick peck on the lips and escorted me through the gate and back home.

Once in my kitchen, as we slid a few containers into the fridge, she said, “You handled that pretty well.”

“Not a whole lot to handle, was there?”

“Let’s be totally honest,…”

“Haven’t we been totally honest?” I interrupted.

“Yes, sort of,..”

“What do you mean, ‘sort of’, Les?”

“Well, .. complete and total honesty is not readily defined, is it Rick?”

“I thought it would be evident.”

“I guess it’s time we had a talk about that then.”

“Does that mean it will be long enough to open a bottle of wine?”

“I hope not that long. Maybe one margarita long,…?…”

“Does that mean you’ll be staying over?”

“If you want me to, I’d like that, Rick.”

“Then margaritas it is and we’ll see what happens.”

She just leaned against the counter and watched as I whipped up a small pitcher of her favorite cocktail. Once we were seated on the loveseat in the living room with tall drinks in our hands, I looked expectantly at her and waited.

“So, complete and total honesty… … I have never lied or shaded the truth between us, Rick, but I think we can both attest to the fact that Marcy could say the same thing about her last month before this trip of hers. If total and complete honesty means that the party of the first part has to immediately and completely blurt out every single possible element of information that might possibly be germane to a situation so that both parties can constantly reassess the options at every turn, then is anybody really EVER totally and completely honest?”

“Hmmm,.. well, .. OK, where are you going with this?”

“You know I’m an analyst type of person.”

“And, I have to admit, a pretty good one, Les,” I interjected. She smiled and blushed slightly as she took a sip.

“Thanks, I really wanted to be the resource you needed.”

“You have been an absolute godsend, Les.”

“So, back on track,…”

“Which,” I interrupted, “is one of the needs you have met so professionally – now I’ll shut up and let you get to the point.”

“Right, … no relationship, EVER, in the history of mankind has ever been totally and completely honest at each and every moment. Even in long term faithful relationships, people don’t do the blurting-out-every-thought thing I mentioned. For example, if you wanted to get Marcy into bed or wanted to enjoy watching her flirt at a backyard BBQ before jumping her in bed later, you would have never told her that was what you wanted. If you and she went out to dinner, .. essentially a ‘date night’ whether you called it that or not, your energy was all focused on wanting to make her WANT to get you home and into bed without actually saying so. Am I right, Rick?”

“Well, yes, .. isn’t that just normal him/her interaction?”

“ABSOLUTELY! That is part of proving to oneself that your partner for the night finds you attractive and desires you, .. validates your desirability and makes you feel confident and – let’s face it – in a serious relationship, it makes you feel loved.

“So just as it might not be the very best decision to tell a lady that a certain dress makes her butt look big or shows her belly a little too prominently, there are things about a man that women avoid discussing.”

“Like what?” I interrupted.

“Never mind!” She slapped me playfully on the shoulder and took a long drink. “We need to get to my main point!”

“I apologize. Please continue. Les.”

“Thank you. So, .. dissembling is the term for hiding things by purposefully not saying things that you know the other person wants to know about and would expect you to tell them if you trust each other. The current example is Marcy not getting around to telling you that she was planning to fuck her doctor friend for a month on this humanitarian adventure. She never actually lied to you, but withheld certain key elements of information that she KNEW you’d want to know.”

“Your goddamned right!”

“OK, OK, OK, .. we both know how you feel about this, Rick, .. well nobody can EVER truly know exactly how another person feels, but I know you feel betrayed and lied to, but I do NOT EVER want you to feel that way about me or our relationship. To that end, I am going to tell you some things that are in the realm of thoughts, feelings, and emotions that are not usually talked about, but that I want you to know.

“First off, though you know that Vinnie and I have a pretty open relationship, just as I explained, we don’t tell each other every single little thing. In this type of open relationship, we don’t always know in advance or even understand all of the feelings and emotions we experience as we evolve through the multiple relationships into which we enter.

“You have begun calling me, ‘Les’. I have never allowed Vinnie to do that because I always felt that people that used diminutive name forms looked down on the other person and did not consider them equals or worthy of respect or even a full and equal share of emotions, choices or ,.. whatever, ..

“You call me ‘Les’ and I feel like I have been given super powers! I KNOW you respect me and look at me as an equal! I feel – yes it’s a really trite jargon expression – but I feel empowered when you call me ‘Les’! I haven’t told Vinnie that I allow you to call me, ‘Les’. I do not allow him to use that name when he refers to me.

“So, .. on to full disclosure, . … I will not ever go into the mode of constantly dribbling nonstop about what I’m thinking or feeling when I’m around you or others in a social context, but if you ever want to know, then you only need to ask and I’ll tell you because I never want to be anything but open and honest with you, Rick.

“These last few weeks, .. you trusting me – professionally – you making me feel like a goddess, .. you needed me , … yes, .. probably more than anything else, really needed me , .. ME, .. for something other than sex. Yes, I love the sexual excitement and your actual need for – not for sex but for sex WITH ME – it has created a whole new me, Rick! In all of the other open marriage interactions I have been nothing more than an attractive body to give them a degree of pleasure.

“We can discuss the definition of ‘love’ but I want you, Rick. I want you day and night. I , .. I guess, ‘yearn’ is as good as word as any. I yearn for your touch. I yearn for the sound of your voice. If I get a text from you, it absolutely makes my day.

“I have stopped having sex with Vincent because I want you! I think about you and only want you when I’m awake. i dream of you when I’m asleep. If I were to have sex with Vincent, it would be like, .. ‘OK, check the box,.. I’ve met an obligation’, but no joy, no anticipation, . .. no lust or desire or excitement whatsoever.

“I am not asking for you to separate from Marcy to be with me, but I am asking you to at least pretend to really and truly and absolutely be in love with me when we are together. …in bed, …in the kitchen, .. if we go out to a restaurant, or a craft fair, a back yard BBQ, .. whatever, .. just for this time, I really feel a need try to feel what it’s like to be YOUR girl, Rick.

“The time we’ve spent has been like a whole new world opening up before me that I had never conceived of before being with you. You respect my professional acumen. You trust my recommendations – yes even those affecting your relationship with Marcy and your relationship with your children!

“Some of this will never change. Vincent will always be ‘Vincent’, no more than that. I may stay with him because we ‘get’ certain things about each other, but I now know that I could never stay with him for the rest of my life. We are ‘mates’ as they say in Britain, but we will never be ‘soulmates’. I know you have been so totally invested in your relationship with Marcy that you were really expecting and wanting to spend the rest of your life with her, … yes and your kids, .. and in-laws, and all, .. but I think that I could possibly be the very best option to be your soulmate for the rest of your life.

“If you have no doubts about you and Marcy. If you want your ‘happily ever after’ to be her and you don’t think she would ever select an alternative option like a Dr. Trey, somewhere down the road, then we need to focus on how you can eliminate any possible doubt and make that happen without regard to any other possibility.

“If you no longer feel you can figure out a way to trust her for the long haul ,.. the rest of your natural born lives, .. .. then you truly need to consider options that will not leave you kneeling in the gutter in front of the courthouse someday.

“Am I overstating the case for you to consider getting out of your relationship with her and establishing a new relationship, Yes I am, but I will never lie to you and I will absolutely help you lay out all of the options and potential future branches of any decisions you may make at this time.

“I’m trying to tell you that I’ve fallen in love with you, Rick. I’ve listened to your issues around cheating and lying to each other and whether that can be resolved and whether trust can be reestablished such that you two can go lovingly into that long, goodnight.

“I honestly and absolutely want to spend every waking moment I can with you Rick. Going on picnics, shopping, planning vacations, .. doing holidays with your kids, all of it. I get that if you really feel and want all of that to be with Marcy – and if life were fair, it would be – but if you aren’t 100% in that mode of thought and emotions, then I just want you know I expect nothing, but want to be here – anywhere – for you.”

I was dumbstruck! I said not a word for about a quarter hour. Les didn’t move. She didn’t get a refill. She ignored her phone the two times it beeped or chirped. Her demeanor was totally neutral. She appeared to be listening to a music mix in her head, just looking at her glass, .. the room’s books and decor, .. me occasionally, …

Finally, .. I looked at her big beautiful eyes and could tell she was dying for an answer.

“Les, you are so very right about so many relationships – as well as ours. By that I mean me and Marcy and I mean you and me. I agree that I really need make a decision or two. I feel as though I will make a high quality, considered decision after letting it simmer for a little while. I will give you an assessment of how I feel about all of that in three days. Is that fair?”

“Yes, of course, Rick. Does that mean that we should be apart so you can be totally objective during the decision process.?”

“No, Les. It means I may need periods of time to focus totally on this topic, but in between, I feel that our interactions should be looked at as additional empirical data points in this experiment we all call ‘Life’. I have come to feel I need your objectivity to help me make decisions during this difficult time. When you are with me, I’m better able to keep morbid thoughts at bay and things seem to actually make progress.”

We sat mostly silently until our glasses were empty. Then we looked at each other and I got up and silently went to the kitchen and refilled our glasses. I turned on some music by the Rippingtons and an hour later, I carried her up to our bedroom.

In every intimate opportunity we shared together, there were new discoveries, new realizations and familiar pleasures. I came to the realization that I had begun to consider the pronouns, ‘us’ and ‘our’ and ‘we’, to be me and Les and that Marcy just didn’t automatically pop into my mind as the first priority.

The next morning, after Les went home, I had to regain focus on my relationship with Marcy. I reviewed the decision matrix Les had helped me put together. Was it really objective or was it tainted by her feelings…? I re-considered the trust gap that had formed between Marcy and I and the cracked and crumbled elements of “relational” glue that hold a marriage together. I considered the choices for pointing up the mortar in the brick wall that I thought had been our relationship.

If we stayed together, would we ever adequately trust each other such that her feelings of being, “owed” would go away completely? Would my feelings of betrayal eventually evaporate to become an insignificant shadow of the past?

If we separated for a while would it help? If we divorced, is it possible that we might go through a more mature dating process to slowly rekindle the flame of real love that had led us to make “lifelong” vows to one another? How would a divorce impact the kids and would it forever crush the possibility of sharing pleasant family times together, .. possibly with grandchildren,..?..

While I was wrestling with my decisions, Les had her own decisions to make and feelings to hash out with Vincent. Her decisions were just as difficult as mine, though their relationship already had a more open and flexible framework than mine. She and I had several discussions covering the decisions I needed to make, but we also considered issues she needed to work through in her life.

As Marcy’s, “summer camp adventure” wended its way toward its end, I stuck with the philosophy of being prepared to retain maximum flexibility. Les and I stopped all sex for the last week and I got the appropriate STD tests at our family doctor’s office. When the doc asked me if there was something I was worried about and whether she should be concerned for Marcy, I told her that Marcy had asked me to get the tests because of something Marcy had done and that Marcy might also he coming in for the same slate of tests. She gave me the, this-isn’t-like-you-guys look and completed the tests.

I spent a couple of meetings with the Family Law Attorney and Les even came too. We drafted a divorce petition and talked about the contents of a potential post-nup that might reinforce honesty in my marriage to Marcy. For the last three days before Marcy’s return, I took off from work to focus on the important decisions and to prepare. I made decisions and had the attorney do final versions of different documents. I even met with an Army buddy of mine in the security business and talked about options.

I told the kids, well the one I could talk to directly, and sent a message to our daughter who was deployed on a ship somewhere in the Pacific. I wanted them to know that their mother and I had serious issues and that there were likely some issues that could ultimately affect them.

On “M-Day”, Marcy’s Saturday evening return date, I fought down my rabid curiosity and did not go to the airport to see how she and Dr. ButtFace said good-bye to each other. I also did not go to the hotel with my STD tests in hand to hop into bed with her like a dutiful cuckold.

I left an envelope addressed to her at the desk. It contained my STD test results and a letter that said that I was not going to be at the hotel and that she might want to have her STD tests redone at our family clinic – just like I had to do – rather than trust her health to a foreign clinic that might be under the influence of Dr. FuckWad. It also explained that I would not be home Sunday, but would arrange for dinner at home on Monday after work and we would deal with things.

Her foreign surgical team members had a mostly administrative day turning in equipment and doing reports and receiving their shift assignments for the following week and then they were given the rest of the week off.

Marcy arrived home about 5 PM, about an hour earlier than usual. As she walked in the door, she saw me with my back towards her, opening a bottle of wine. She dropped her purse and leaped at me. She wrapped her arms around me pressing her chest into my back and planting a flurry of kisses on my neck and behind my ears. Before I could set the wine down and she could turn me around to face her, she realized that the dining room table was occupied by Vincent and Leslie and that it was set for four, not two.

She was frozen in place for a moment until Vincent said, “Hi Marcy.”

“Welcome home,” Leslie chimed in.

She walked into the dining room. “Hi guys. This is a surprise. Thanks for coming to welcome me.”

I walked into the dining room just behind her with a bottle in my right hand and put my left arm around her waist and gave her a kiss, best characterized as a “peck” just above her right eyebrow. “Marcy, I invited Vincent and Leslie to help welcome you back as a bit of a surprise not unlike you surprising me by making them your good-bye to me.” She looked at me with a sort of, “Huh?” look on her face.

I set the bottle on the table and held Marcy’s chair out for her as I had so many times before, and she got seated. As she was being seated, Leslie got up and began bringing serving dishes to the table. I poured wine all around and we began passing dishes and serving ourselves.

Marcy tried to appear focused on her food, but was glancing nervously at faces around the table. Comments were made about how good the food was, and that Vincent’s grill skills were superlative. Marcy was asked about food experiences during her trip and she regaled us with her favorites. Eventually, everyone seemed at ease. The main course was winding down and Leslie was asked about desert.

The doorbell rang.

I jumped up. “I’ll get it!”

I ushered in a gentleman in a suit carrying a briefcase. “According to his business card,” Ki announced, “this is Wayne Elfman.”

He nodded his head and said, “Pleased to meet all of you.” He set the briefcase on the sideboard and took out what looked like a Bluetooth speaker and after pressing a couple of buttons, turned and looked at me, nodded, and then went back to shuffling things in his briefcase.

I nodded and began, “Mr. Elfman does two things. He works for a security company where his specialty is providing bodyguard services. The other thing he does is taking work as a way to fill out more hours when he is not on a security contract, as a process server.

The man quickly plopped onto the table, one in front of Marcy and another in front of Vincent, a large manila envelope with their name on it. He quickly returned to his briefcase and announced, “you’ve been served”. He picked up the device and held it in front of himself at about bell buckle height. He looked at me and asked, “Do you require any security services?” I shook my head laterally. He pushed buttons and then placed his device into his case and clicked the lid closed.

He looked at me as if to ask whether I needed him for anything else. I just turned toward the front door and he followed me through and exited the house. On returning to the table, I sat down.

Marcy was staring at her envelope, then slowly raised her head to look at me. “So then that’s it, Rick? No discussion. No explanation. No consideration for all of our years together…?”

Before I could answer, Vincent raised his voice, “Hold on one fucking minute! What is this?!?” He gestured at the envelope and swiveled to face Leslie with a world class scowl on his face. “I thought tonight was all about Rick and Marcy?”

Leslie reached out and took both of Vincent’s hands in hers and kissed him gently on the lips. “We ARE a significant part of Rick and Marcy’s resolution, honey.” She looked at me as if seeking help.

“Leslie and Vincent,” I began, “Marcy and I, … two couples that have issues around relational communication and expectations. I will speak to Marcy, but it will impact Vincent. Marcy, some people say that honesty and trust are the basis of a loving relationship. When they say they love the other person, they mean they trust them to mean what they say they’ll do and they are willing to accept the other person’s word as truth and trust them to make positive decisions that affirm their relationship even when they are not together.

“Truth and trust are absolutely critical elements of a lasting relationship, but the foundational tenet of a marriage relationship is respect. Respect subsumes the lower order elements of trust and truth. Respect is the foundation upon which all the rest of the very complicated elements of a marriage are built. No marital cheating Is ever planned out and then followed through on, if both partners respect one another.”

“But Rick,” Marcy jumped in, “it was a one time thing in large part because I thought you had at least one period when you were regularly cheating on me. It was a one time, exciting adventure to make me even with you and Deidre. It is over and done with and now we can live the rest of our lives together just like we should.”

“Marcy, Dierdre and I had just survived an attack that killed everyone around us and left only the two of us from that mission. She jumped me and I responded. There was no planning on my part. I did not choose her over you. I did not want her instead of you, I just responded in a fog that shrouded my senses and my judgment leaving me focused solely on the fact that I was alive. What she was doing to me was a hard core factual demonstration of me being alive and experiencing one of the things that only living people can do… It was the essence of living life, after she sucked me off, I jumped into her center and returned the act using my own mouth and hands and then I realized what I was doing and how much I loved you, Marcy! How much deeper would be the betrayal of you and our marriage if I continued to move on to penetrative sex once I realized the implications of what I was doing. So I did not!

“On the other hand, nobody can argue against the most basic foundation of human learning. If a human being behaves in a certain way and it does not result in a significant negative consequence, then that behavior become part of their repertoire of usable behavior options.

“You say nothing like your planned tryst with Dr. Buttwipe would ever happen again for the rest of your life. Nobody can contradict the basic human learning fact that if you can do that sort of planned betrayal and then just come home and all is sunshine, roses, and lollipops, there is no reason not to have sex with some future Dr. FuckFace if he comes on to you and you find him appealing. It is statistically factual that those who were unfaithful in a relationship are three times as likely to be unfaithful again compared to people that have never been unfaithful. It might just be that you would be the Marcy I wished you would be for the rest of our lives, but there’s no way I could ever trust that you really would be.”

Silence reigned for a couple of minutes. Marcy’s eyes clouded up and her left eye released a single tear that wended its way down a halting path traversing the lines of her beautiful face.

“As fate or luck would have it,” I continued, “part of your plan to assuage your guilt was to give Leslie the green light to have sex with me. As wrong as that felt through the core of my being, and as much as I did not want to justify your planned cheating by having sex with our neighbor’s wife, there she was.

“I didn’t really know her or care about Leslie. I accepted her suggested offer of revenge sex and we had – no! we did not ‘have sex’, we FUCKED! We so fully engaged our bodies and minds in the raw physical act, that we were totally exhausted to the point of collapse. Days later we both carried bruises from that night.

“Once we’d done that, it came almost naturally to share our bodies and, yes, our emotions. I could not shake the pain an self-doubt that I was hugging to my soul due to the unceremonious way my wife left me and the letter that basically said to me, ‘your feelings don’t matter to me, I want to come back with no fuss, no muss and if you’re not interested in that, then let’s divorce and I’m OK with being done with us as an entity’. Marcy, you have no idea how deeply that cut me, especially since I had never intentionally cheated on you, in spite of you cheating on me all the time while I was away in Korea.”

“What?!?! I NEVER cheated on you Rick! Just as I said in the letter, I was loyal to the end. What makes you think I was cheating on you during Korea?”

“It was the 2 hours early you,” Rick made air quotes with his fingers, “‘went to work’ for several months and then stopped abruptly as soon as I came home.”

“The absolute truth of that was a Hospital training and a mentorship program. By coming in early for those few months to provide training and mentoring for a cohort of fifteen new nurses, I got the promotion to chief surgical nurse and the additional money to help our family that went with it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me, Marcy?”

“It came to an end just as you returned and the whirlwind of emotions and family restructuring that was always part of your returns made it seem unimportant. If you had an issue with that, why didn’t you ask? We could have straightened it out then.”

“I did intend to confront you about it, but it seemed we were reintegrating as a family, and I was so happy to have ‘my Marcy’ back that I just didn’t want to rock the boat and wanted to just put it behind us and move forward. I had forgiven you that – what I thought was a betrayal – and thought we were the couple we should have been at this stage in our lives. You obviously did not.”

“So here we are, Rick. We have each contributed to a marital crisis over some stupid, but critical miscommunication issues. Do you really feel that there is no hope for us? Do we really think our kids would want us to tear the family apart over miscommunication?”

I glanced at Leslie. Her eyebrows were raised and she looked worried. “Marcy, the depth of miscommunication is absolutely amazing, but the larger issue has become the fact that you held me in such little respect that you spent months planning a detailed betrayal and left me hanging and then gave me the ultimatum letter.

“That disrespect and the human learning facts I’ve already talked about, are the salient elements of where we are right now. When you pushed Leslie into my arms – and yes – into OUR bed – it led to the creation of a new paradigm.” I looked at Leslie. She looked so grateful with a small, but beautiful smile. “Leslie took pity on me and really truly helped me! She gave me understanding and she gave me the energy and motivation to break through the pain and get back to work and get into analyzing my own feelings as well as where we – Marcy and Rick – were in our development as a couple and where we might be able to go.”