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Child of Adultery

By: thecelt



This is a slightly different story than my usual. It would fit in the Consequences category under Loving Wives, but it is really a different type of story. I'll still put it under LW, but judge for yourself.

Edited and improved with comments by LadyCibelle.

*

I was sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, trying in vain to control my emotions. They were on a roller coaster and I was getting sick from the ride. My son was in the operating room and whether he lived or died was out of my hands. His chances could be better but that was also out of my hands. All I could do now was wait and pray. The hospital minister sat with me and did his best to reassure me, but that was only part of my problem. He asked me if I wanted to talk or confess and I nodded in the affirmative. I looked over at the far side of the room where my wife sat alone and made up my mind. I told him I had a story I needed to tell someone. He pledged his silence and I began.

My name is Michael Durant and I have a secret. It's one I'd kept from everyone except my wife and I had just told her days ago. It's a secret that affects my thinking in a lot of ways and I've tried over the years to try to minimize its affects on me but in the past month, it's been very difficult. It may be that what I do because of my secret will destroy my life and all I hold dear but I'm really trying to not let it do that. Since we're talking about it, I might as well tell you what it is, but I have to do it my way. You have to swear to me that you'll never repeat it to anyone, especially not to my son. Promise me!

I come from a fairly normal family, raised in a typical home in the Midwest and living a perfectly normal life. My dad Walter was a millwright in a steel mill and had over twenty years seniority. He was a big man but always seemed like a giant teddy bear, he was so easy going and kind to us kids. Alice, my mom was a stay at home mom, raising us kids and keeping our home safe and happy. I was the second child in a family of four; two boys and two girls. Molly was the oldest and Kate was the youngest. My brother George was a year younger than me and Kate was three years younger than him. We got along fairly well with just the normal spats and such. 

I remember mom was a pretty woman, always nicely dressed and friendly. There were a lot of women who stopped by when I was growing up and our house was always filled with family. Mom had a sister Lucile who was married with two kids of her own and although dad was an only child, his mother and dad stopped by often, at least until they moved to Florida when I was nine. So our house was never quiet and never empty. At least as far as I knew.

Things changed when Kate started school. Mom was finally alone in the house during the day and she started to go out more and more. She said she was meeting with other moms to plan school activities and stuff like that. I didn't much care since I was gone anyway. The evenings continued to be a family affair with all of us sitting at the dinner table. That was the only rule that dad insisted on making us follow. We had to be there for dinner regardless of what else was happening. I had to turn down some school activities that required me to be there late and so did Molly. But neither of us really minded.

Then the unexpected happened: when I was nine years old, I got sick. It was a kidney problem; both kidneys were affected and it got worse and worse until I was put on dialysis. The doctors told my mom and dad that if I didn't get a kidney transplant, I was going to die. The obvious choice of a donor would be a sibling and George and Molly were the obvious choices as candidates. Kate was almost too young at five, but George was eight and Molly was eleven. Mom and dad talked it over and decided to let George and Molly get tested. They were both willing so the tests were taken and we waited for the results. That's when things got really strange.

Mom came in a few days after Molly and George were tested to tell me that neither was a candidate. She was crying and I tried to tell her it would be OK but she just cried harder. She didn't stay long and when she left she was still crying. It scared me a little because if she was that upset, it didn't look good for me. I was beginning to worry now that I might die and for a nine year old, that was scary stuff. I wasn't doing real good when dad came in to see me. He told me the same thing mom did but he told me that there was a good chance that I could still get a kidney from the national registry. He also told me that all my relatives got tested just to see if they could help either me or someone else so all in all, he said it was a good thing that I was sick if our family could help someone else. That was dad. 

I asked him why mom was so upset but he said that it had nothing to do with me. She was upset about something else and he didn't want to talk about it. He did say that he would be coming in less often since his work schedule was being changed. That didn't worry me because it happened before. He talked for a while longer then he left. 

I did get a kidney and the transplant was scheduled that same week. I had a chance to see my brother and sisters and we talked a little before the surgery. One thing I did learn that surprised me was that dad was not staying at home right now. He and mom said it had to do with dad's schedule but Molly told me privately that mom was crying a lot at night and she didn't think it was because of me. She said she didn't know what was going on but dad seemed to be yelling at mom a lot. I asked her if dad was actually shouting and she said he was. That meant it was something big. She said she would keep me posted and left.

It was hard for me to concentrate on anything except what was happening to me so I forgot about mom and dad as the day of surgery arrived. I was wheeled into the operating room, moved over to the stainless steel table, fortunately covered with a warm sheet, and then after a few words of nonsense from the doctor, I faded away. 

I woke in the recovery room, groggy and feeling nothing. I was moved into a private room with glass walls and connected to some machines and a bag of saline solution. The nurses would come in occasionally and inject something into the port of the IV drip and it must have been for pain because I felt nothing. It was the following day when I actually rejoined the world of the living. Now I was uncomfortable but still able to talk and understand what the nurses and doctors were saying. Everything went well they said and I would be able to get up in a day or so. 

Mom came in to see me, smiling and holding my hand and telling me that everything went very well and the doctors were pleased. She talked about home and the kids and how they were doing. She told me about fixing up a room with all I would need when I came home. She talked about everything except dad. When I mentioned him, her smile disappeared and she said very quietly that he would be in when he could. She only stayed a few more minutes then left, saying she would be back later.

Over the next few days, mom and dad both stopped to see me, although at different times. Both seemed fine but neither talked about the other. As things developed and I got better and able to come home, I began to wonder if my illness had caused problems between mom and dad. It grew in my mind until I was positive that they were upset because of me. At nine, I still thought my impact on the world was greater than it really was and if they were fighting or arguing, it had to be my fault. I was positive when the day came for me to be discharged and only dad showed up. He said mom was at home waiting for me and making sure everything was OK but I knew it was because dad wanted to pick me up and she wouldn't come with him. It was because of me!

At home, dad helped me in and showed me the changes mom had made to the living room. She had a single bed set up with a side table and lights for me so that I wouldn't have to climb the stairs so often. It was neat and I was excited about it. Molly and George made fun of me but Kate was quick to tell them to leave me alone. It felt wonderful to be back home where things were as they should be! Dad helped me to sit down and talked to me for a few minutes before saying he had to go. When the kids walked away, leaving me and dad alone, I finally asked him,

"Dad, what's wrong? I know you and mom are upset about me getting sick and I know it's causing problems. I don't know what to do except say I'm sorry for getting sick. I don't want it to make problems between you two." 

To my eternal shame, I started to cry in front of my dad! I wanted to hide the tears but I just couldn't and I was mortified when I had to choke back a sob. Dad just put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed gently. I wanted to hide my face in his chest but men didn't do stuff like that. I wiped my eyes with my sleeve and tired to turn away but dad did something that to this day I'll never forget: he put one hand under my chin and kissed my forehead. Dad actually kissed me! Then, to compound my shock, he lifted my face so that he could look me in the eye and said;

"Michael, you hear me and hear me good! What's between your mother and I is not your fault! It has nothing to do with your illness. You're my son and nothing will ever change that. You remember that regardless of what you hear. Your mother and I love you and nothing you do will change that either." 

He let me go and then asked again: "Do you understand what I just said?"

"Yes dad. I understand. I do." I wanted to please him but I really was confused by what he said. What did he mean by telling me I was his son? Of course I was! And how could anything change that? What did he mean when he said 'regardless of what you hear?'

He leaned over and the big teddy bear kissed me on the cheek. I wanted to cry again but this time it was because I loved him so much. I just held it in like a man. He stood, looked at me for a second before turning and walking out. 

With mom's help and support, I healed and began to do more things. I started walking a little and soon was walking around the large yard surrounding our house. Molly helped me in the afternoons when she was home and we began to bond more than we had in the past. It had been about a week since dad talked to me and she was helping me to walk up and down the stairs one evening. I was hurting a little so she helped me to a chair. As I rested, she looked around to make sure mom wasn't nearby than whispered to me. 

"Have you noticed that Aunt Lucy and Uncle Frank haven't been around? I haven't seen them since the day dad moved out. I think something stinks around here. They haven't been around even to see you and that's just weird." 

I thought about it and she was right. I hadn't seen either of them except when they stopped to see me in the hospital. And that was real early one morning before mom or dad were due in to see me. I had always been close to Uncle Frank so it was even funnier.

"You're right. I did see them at first in the hospital but not since I've been home. Wonder why? Think they're having a fight with mom or dad?"

"Beats me. I just wondered if you knew anything. But good news: dad's moving back home tomorrow."

"No kidding? That's great news! I miss him now more than ever. I guess it's because I'm home so much."

Molly was right: dad did move back home that night and he spent a good bit of time with me, watching what I could do and complimenting me on my recovery. He seemed quiet and sad more than I had seen him in the past, but he was home and that was what was important. We were back to eating dinner together with dad at one end of the table and mom at the other. We all talked together as we had but now dad and mom spoke mainly to us and not to each other as they once did. But he was home. 

My transplant took and after five years I was still OK with no sign of rejection. I was on meds and would be for the rest of my life but I was doing great. I was back in school, home life was pretty much routine and mom and dad seemed to be doing better. There was still a lack of the happiness and joy that marked the earlier years but we thought nothing about that. I graduated and went to college, living on campus and coming home only for holidays. I stayed and tried to finish my degree in record time and with dad's help financially I was able to do it in less than four years, graduating almost a year ahead of Molly who took the traditional path.

I took a job working as a design engineer with GE and got into the medical machine division. It was a good job and I made decent money. I did help dad with the expenses for the rest of the family and Molly and I made enough to help Kate toward the end. Even with that, I had enough left over to find my own place and to start to date.

I was twenty four years old when mom called me one evening and asked me to stop by the house whenever I could. She said that she and dad wanted to talk to me and tell me something I would need to know at some point in my life. I told her I would be over the next evening since my interest had been aroused. I finished work, drove home to change and went home to see my parents. First time I had been home in over a month. I called frequently but didn't seem to find time to visit. 

I went in to find mom and dad sitting in the family room, talking quietly. There was something about the atmosphere that bothered me but I grabbed a soda from the refrigerator and went in to join them. We were alone, the rest of the family either in school or out for the evening. Only Kate still lived at home now.

"OK, so what's up? What is it I need to know?" I was trying to keep it light but neither of them smiled. Dad looked at mom, she nodded but as she turned her head away, I saw the tears in her eyes. That scared me. This wasn't going to be good news. Dad began:

"There is something you need to know if you are going to be getting married and have children of your own one of these days. We think it is time you knew." He stopped and I saw mom shake her head as if to deny anything he said.

"I am not your biological father Mike." 

That sentence hung in the air like a guillotine, hovering and waiting to fall. It hit me hard enough to convince me that it had fallen: directly onto my neck! What did he mean, not my biological father? What did that mean? 

"Mom? Dad? What does that mean?! What does that mean?!" I know I wasn't making any sense. I know what it meant but it couldn't be real. Why would they do this to me? Why would they hurt me like this? Hadn't I done all they expected of me? I tried to be a good son. I got sick, yes, but it wasn't my fault! 

"I don't deserve this. It wasn't my fault that I got sick. It wasn't. Is that what this is? To punish me because of what I did to you and mom? It that it? I'm sorry that I caused you to be apart but I didn't mean it!" I knew I was hysterical but I felt it all come crashing back on me: when they separated, when dad moved away, when mom started crying all the time. All because of me and now they were doing this to push me away.

I jumped up and started to pace the room. I was hurt; distraught and angry. I didn't want this. It couldn't be true. But as I paced, I began to see another possibility; that I wasn't the reason they separated. Maybe something happened when I got sick that told dad I wasn't his biological son. Maybe that was it. Yes! Now it all made sense. Now I remembered what dad said to me that day: "You're my son and nothing will ever change that. You remember that regardless of what you hear." Now it made sense. Now all mom's crying made sense. 

Suddenly I was calm again. The news was still horrible and something I didn't want to hear but now I knew that it wasn't me that caused my parents to separate. I wasn't at fault! In spite of the bad news, I felt fiercely glad that I hadn't ruined their lives by my own misfortune. But I had to hear the rest of it now. I sat down and turned to mom and said,

"Tell me mom. Tell me what I have to know. I'm ready to listen." My face was calm and my heart was settled now so I was ready to know who my father was. As I looked at her I could tell that this was one of the hardest things she would ever do, and I felt sorry for both her and my father. This had to hurt him as well.

"Your biological father is your Uncle Frank. Only he, Lucy, your father and I know. The other children do not know and we have no intention of telling them. This is for you to know and do with what you will."

"How did it happen mom? How did you allow this to happen? Why would you do this to me, to us? I don't understand." I shouldn't have asked that and I knew it as soon as I said it. The words hit her like a slap in the face and she broke down in tears. And the slap came from me, her son. I began to apologize when my father interrupted me. He was angry, not at her but at me.

"Son, that is between your mother and me. It is not your place to ask or to judge. You are my son, I love you, and that is the end of it. We told you this for medical reasons only. Frank gave me his records and now they are yours. He has no further interest in my family as he well knows. If you chose to speak to him, that is your business and none of mine. This is the end of it. Do you understand son?"

I hung my head in shame and replied, "I understand and I apologize to you, mother."

That was the end of it as far as my father was concerned. He did what he had to do to make it right with me and nothing more need be said. I took that secret with me as I returned to my job and I never discussed it with anyone after that. None of my siblings knew it and I never told them. I was their brother and that was the end of it for me as well. As far as Uncle Frank was concerned, I had no interest in him at all. He may have been my sperm donor but he hurt my father and that was unforgivable.

I learned to deal with this new information and in truth, it had little affect on my life. I continued to treat my parents as just that. Nothing more was said between us and I came to accept that the issue was buried as far as they were concerned. I continued to work and move up in my field and I met my wife Marilyn a year later. She was an engineer like me, although in a different department, and traveled quite a bit but we found time to date. We hit it off and started dating exclusively and we were married soon after. My brother George stood as my best man, my mother and father were present along with my sisters. Uncle Frank did not come, nor did Aunt Lucile although she was invited. She and my mother were speaking but they hadn't seen each other for ten years. But the wedding was wonderful and I was a happy man. Marilyn and I were in love and we were happy together. I never felt the need to tell her my secret so I continued to keep it to myself.

We both worked for GE Medical so we pooled our resources to buy our first home. We moved in and began working on a family. We had our first child after being married for almost four years. It was a boy and we named him Lawrence Walter Durant, after our fathers. Marilyn stayed at home while Larry was small but then went back to work while Larry was in daycare. Ten months later she was pregnant with our second. She delivered a girl we named Paula after her mother. I was happy as my family began to grow. By this time, I was doing well enough that she decided to quit and stay home with our children. There was a period during our seventh year of marriage when things got difficult and we actually separated for a short while. We talked of divorce but after agreeing on marriage counseling, we were able to work together to rebuild what we lost. Things improved and Marilyn got pregnant with our third, a boy we named William. 


Child of Adultery



It was five years later that disaster struck. First, my father got sick and died after a short illness. The doctors told us it was cancer and that he had known about it but never told us; not even mom. She was devastated by the loss and soon after that she fell ill. I watched her die slowly, not even trying to get better, not being able to take the loss of my father. While they had never regained the loving relationship they had before I got sick, she did everything she could to show him that she loved him and he tried to love her back. She stayed and fought for their marriage and he understood what she was doing, but it was difficult for him, a deeply proud man, to forgive her. She talked to me once when she knew she didn't have much longer to live. We were talking about dad and she told me about his moving back.

"Your father moved back home with us because of you Mike. He told me what you said about thinking it was your fault. That almost killed him and he said it was selfish of him to take the easy path of running away. He said we had to try for you and the others. He wanted to forgive me but he was a proud man and I had hurt him deeply. After a while, he slowly started to forgive me, but he never forgot. I knew it but I took what he was able to give. At the end, we were actually happy again."

She had a smile on her face and tears in her eyes as she told me these things. I remember the last thing she said to me. 

"He tried so hard Mike, but it was years before I could look in his eyes and not see my failure reflected back at me. The day he died, his eyes were filled only with love and I knew some it was for me. Your father loved me in the end."

She died soon after that and we buried her next to him where she wanted to be. I hoped that they could start over in heaven; they both deserved a fresh start. 

I hoped that things would return to normal after two tragedies in a period of less than fourteen months, but as they say, bad things come in threes so I waited for the last shoe to drop.

Marilyn was at home with all three of our kids and they were doing fine. Our lives seemed to be on track when the last of the three bad things happened: my son Larry developed leukemia. It was slow and we had little warning that anything was wrong. He was diagnosed when he had a bleeding spell that couldn't be stopped. He was too far along for much to be done but the doctors did start chemo and he did improve slightly, but it was clear that a bone marrow transplant was all that could save him. With a brother and sister, it was a good chance that one or both of them would be compatible. We had them tested and held our breath.

Now you may see where this is going Reverend. I told you I had a secret and that secret is now coming back to haunt me. I survived with a kidney from a donor not of my family since I had a different father than my siblings. That made a kidney donation from one of them an unlikely choice. The secret remains with me to this day, but now my son is in trouble for the same reason: I am not his biological father! As Rodney Dangerfield once said, "it's like déjà vu all over again."

The doctor who would do the transplant on my son called me in after the tests to tell me that Larry was a biological match to Paula. He said that it was required by law that he tell me that Larry and Paula were full siblings to each other but not to William. All three had the same mother but only William had me as a father. He was very clear about it and told me in no uncertain terms that all he cared about was finding a match for my son. Paula could be used, and while he was satisfied with the match, he wished he could have had another possibility. I left his office in shock.

I went home where Marilyn and the kids were eating dinner and told them that the tests hadn't come back yet. Marilyn was a little angry at the delay but I told her that we could discuss it later. She agreed but wasn't happy. Neither was I but the delay wasn't the reason. We finished out the evening, sent the kids off to bed and then I asked Marilyn to come into the den with me to talk. She grumbled about the time between sampling and testing but did follow me in. I shut the door just to be sure we weren't overheard by the kids. 

"Why are you shutting the door? Is it bad news? Oh God Mike, don't tell me it's bad news about Larry. Please God, not bad news." She was upset but so was I. We just had different reasons.

"The news is bad Mari, but it's not about Larry. I got the results of the testing on Paula and Bill. Larry is a perfect match to Paula so Doc Rice is pleased with that and plans to use her. William wasn't a match." I waited for her response.

"What do you mean, he's not a match? Aren't either the brother or sister the best possible match? Why would Paula be a match but not William?"

I looked at her and saw that she didn't have the first clue. She carried another man's child and never knew it? How could that be? I shook my head and continued.

"I am Bill's biological father, but Paula and Larry have a different father." There! I said it without screaming or yelling or crying. 

"What the hell are you talking about? Of course you're their father. That makes no. . . ." 

Her words just faded away and she got the strangest look on her face. She just stared at me for a second as what I said to her sank in. Her face was confused at first, then when she understood what I said, the blood seemed to drain away leaving her skin a pale, translucent white. She began to shiver and her arms went around her body like she was freezing. She began to rock forward and back, her head moving from side to side, trying in vain to deny my words.

I waited for her to say something but instead she ran out of the room and up the stairs, the slamming of the bedroom door announcing where she went. I remained where I was, my own feelings finally coming home to roost. Her reaction was the catalyst that fueled my anger. Up to this point I had been functioning on instinct and fear for my son. Now I had the luxury of time to feel the anger that had been suppressed. Now it burned within me and I let it go, relaxing as it took hold. I needed to feel this now, tonight, here in the privacy of my home because I would have no time later as I tried to support my son. His life was important to me and only his life: mine and Marilyn's of little consequence now. Maybe later I could submit to the other emotions that were waiting for me, but now I only felt the anger.

I went upstairs to the spare room and closed and locked the door. I stripped and lay on top of the covers, sleep coming slowly. I was still feeling the remnants of the anger that I felt after telling her but it had subsided and now all I had left were the embers, with just enough heat to keep me from sleeping. Just as I was finally drifting off to sleep, I heard a soft knocking on the door and Marilyn's voice asking me to open the door. I ignored her request and let sleep claim me.

The following morning, I waited until I heard the kids awake and downstairs. Marilyn would be fixing breakfast for them and I used the time to wash up and get dressed. I went down and saw her standing beside Paula's chair, buttering her toast. She looked terrible and for some reason, that cheered me. I said nothing to her and watched as the kids got ready for school. The bus would pick them up in front in five minutes. I used that time to pour a cup of coffee and pop in a couple of slices of toast. Marilyn watched me but remained silent as well. Finally the kids were gone and the bus left.

"Michael, we have to talk. You have to let me explain what happened and how this could be."

"No Marilyn. First you and I have to decide how we tell Paula and Bill that Paula will be the donor. As soon as you're dressed, I'll take you in to see Doctor Rice for the instructions. So, please hurry." I sat down with my dry toast and coffee.

"But Mike, won't you please let me tell you how it happened? Please, I know you're angry with me and I have to explain." She was looking at me, her face twisted in pain and her eyes leaking tears. 

"No Marilyn. All I care about now is our son and daughter. Right now they are what's important! And so you know: they are all my children! They are all mine even if I wasn't the sperm donor for them and I don't give a fuck what you say or do or who the biological father is! Just get your ass upstairs and get dressed! I want to get to the hospital as soon as possible. Please! Go!"

She did leave, and with a sob she ran upstairs. I went out to the car and started it, letting it run to make my point. I walked back inside to wait by the door for her. When she came downstairs a few minutes later, I turned and walked out to the car and got in, waiting for her to do the same. The trip to the hospital was silent, every time she started to talk I would tell her "shut the fuck up!" Not polite but effective.

We stopped in to see Larry and tell him that Paula was going to be his donor. He was pleased and we talked with him for a few minutes before going in to see Doctor Rice. There was no mention of William and he gave no indication that he disapproved of Marilyn as he explained the procedure to us and began setting everything up. Larry would undergo radiation to destroy all of the malignant marrow making way for the healthy marrow from Paula. Her marrow would be withdrawn the day of the transplant. She listened carefully, asked good questions and seemed to be pleased at the prognosis. I understood that as a mother she would do anything for her child. As would I, even if I wasn't his natural father. 

The day of the transplant brought us both to this waiting room and now we sit, the room separating us, but not nearly as much as the paternity of my children. One brother was near death and only the skill and knowledge of the doctors could save him. His sister was lying on a bed in the next room, donating part of her body to save his. The other brother was home waiting to hear of his ailing brother. While only one was my own flesh and blood, I truly saw all as my own and I was proud of them. So I shared this room with their mother. 

So now you know my secret Reverend, and what I have to decide once my son is made better is how I choose to live my life from here on. The question I have to answer for myself is: am I as strong a man as my father? He walked away but in the end came back for his son. He seemed to learn forgiveness with time but I never knew whether he really forgave her. He died without me having the courage to ask him. He wouldn't have told me anyway. He would have said it wasn't my business.

The Reverend said a prayer with me, prayed that I learn the power of forgiveness, then told me that my son was in God's hands now. He rose, walked over to Marilyn and whispered something to her. She nodded, bowed her head and then he left. She sat with bowed head a few more seconds then raised her head to meet my eyes. I looked back at her then looked away. Not now. Not now. Her shoulders slumped and she started to cry again. As if that could help Larry. If she hadn't been off fucking another man and getting pregnant, my sons and daughter would all be mine and they both could have been perfect donors for him! Damn her! Damn her to hell! The fury inside me burned bright for a few minutes but then died, my anxiety snuffing it out. 

Time passed before Doctor Rice came out to tell us everything went as well as could be expected. He said Larry would be in isolation for a week or two until the marrow took and began to grow on its own. Until then, he had no natural protection against any type of infection. He left then, telling us we could talk to him in a few hours. I relaxed; now that it was over I could begin to think of my life and the chaos that it was in now. I glanced at Marilyn to see her watching me. I guess it had to be done sooner or later but I really didn't have the energy to do it now.

"I think we should get some rest and then take turns with Larry. He'll be out of it for a while so we should do it now. I'll call home and tell Bill that everything is OK."

"Good, he'll want to know right away. Mike, we have to talk. This is killing me and I know you must hate me right now but please let me talk to you and tell you what happened." 

"I can't deal with you right now Marilyn. I just can't. You take the car home and get some rest and talk to Bill. I'll stay here until Paula is ready to go home and then you come back to relieve me. It's best if you just go. This would be a bad time to try to force me to listen to you so please, go home."

Marilyn was crying but her tears had no effect on me. I just wanted her gone, out of my sight. It was too much for me right now with my emotions ragged and raw. Just to see her face was hurting me so much that I couldn't think straight. I didn't wait for her response: I turned and walked out of the room and went down the steps toward the cafeteria. I needed something strong right now but the best they had was coffee. I took a cup and sat down in the corner with my thoughts.

As the energy generated by my concern for my son began to wane, I started to think more clearly. For the immediate situation, I had to stay at home until my son was out of danger. According to Doctor Rice, that would be three to five months. He could be out of isolation in three weeks and home in less than four. After that, it was just time for the marrow to grow and replace his destroyed damaged marrow. If I were to leave, then would be the time. And William. What could I say to William, or even Paula for that matter. 

My parents had waited until I was fully grown and on my own to tell me I was the child of adultery. Should I do the same for Larry and Paula? It seemed best to me. In my case, I was old enough to understand the words and the concept, but not too old to be immune to it. Much younger and it would have been worse; I believed that sincerely. So, I would recommend to Marilyn that we wait.

Next, my dad moved back home and to my mother to minimize the damage to me, thinking that I had caused their problems. In time, he began to forgive mom and finally loved her again. When he died, they were almost back to where they started. So his actions were there for me to study and emulate if I chose. After all, of all the people I had known in my life, my father was the only one I would choose as my role model.

But there was a difference and I knew that immediately. That difference was the thing that made up my mind. I knew then what I was going to do and I think dad heard my decision and approved. At least I felt something as I made my decision. It was a feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace from someone who loved and trusted me. I had difficulty swallowing my coffee through the lump in my throat. 

I moved back home while my son healed and I stayed until he was out of danger. After telling Marilyn of the story of my parents, she understood the parallel and now knew why I took it so hard. I stayed in the spare room in spite of the pleas of my wife. I answered questions from my kids by saying that since one of us was always up, it was easier on us to sleep in separate rooms. I don't know if they bought it. It was almost four months and all that time, Marilyn tried to prove that she loved me and wanted to convince me that whatever she had done in the past was forever gone. I listened, night after night as she told me her story and night after night I returned to the spare room to sleep. I never made love to her again but I promised her that I was trying to learn to trust her again. She kept telling me she loved me and I assured her I loved her as well, which I did. I never stopped. But that wasn't going to be enough.

The day came when Doctor Rice told us that Larry was going to be fine. The donor marrow had taken hold and was doing its duty, manufacturing red and white blood cells and his immune system was fully functional. He was on his way to a full recovery. Paula was fine as well with no effects from the donation of her marrow to her brother. We celebrated that evening with pizza and ice cream. It was a glorious evening. Marilyn was looking forward to an evening alone with me since I told her that I had made my decision. 

Once the kids were in bed, I sat with her in the living room, she happy and smiling with anticipation, I more subdued and sad. She never noticed, happy as she was with the news and her fantasy. But it was time.

"Marilyn, it's time for me to end this charade. I know that you understand my story and that I was a child of adultery just as my children are. You know that my dad came home and lived with mom until he died. He did learn to love her again and he forgave her as much as he could. She died knowing he loved and forgave her."

"I know Mike and I'm just happy that you came back to give me a second chance, just as your father did. And like your mother, I'll do everything I can to prove to you how much I love you and I'll never make the same mistake again, You have to believe that."

"But Marilyn, you are nothing like my mother. She made a mistake; she and my Uncle made a mistake once and I was the result of that. She knew immediately that she was wrong and she never repeated it. You, on the other hand, have been having an affair with Chad Harper for years. We had only been married for four years when Larry was conceived and Paula was conceived almost a year later. Your affair lasted at least that long and probably longer. That wasn't a mistake Marilyn, that was a planned and lasting affair. You betrayed me not once but many times over and you never regretted it; not until you got caught. As far as I know, it's still continuing."

"No, it wasn't like that. I told you we only did it sometimes when we traveled together. It began before we were married and it wasn't often and I never knew that I got pregnant by him. Honest, but now it's over and I regret it ever happened. It will never happen again. I promise and if you can forgive me like your father forgave your mother, we can be happy again. I promise I'll make you happy."

"I'm sorry Marilyn. I've thought about this and I can't forgive you. I still love you and probably always will, but I intend on divorcing you. I'm moving out tomorrow and I'll contact an attorney to begin the process. You should get one as well and from now on, any contact will be through them."

Marilyn looked as if I had struck her. Not unlike my mother the first time I asked her to tell me why. But again there was a difference: Marilyn was a woman who betrayed me over and over and never once thought of the consequences of her actions. Mom made a mistake and regretted it for the rest of her life. She loved my father and us more than her own life. Marilyn loved whoever happened to be with her at the time.

The divorce went through with little resistance from Marilyn. We talked a lot during the discussion of terms and she continued to beg me to forgive her and give her another chance, but she never convinced me of her love after I found out how often the two of them got together. And Marilyn soon came to realize how much she hurt me after learning of my own background and the differences between her and my mother were too great for me to follow my father's path.

I never remarried, preferring to visit with my children whenever the mood took me. I dated and lived with a couple of women for a while but after my experience with my own mother and later my wife, I chose to remain single and unattached. Life was good however and I never regretted my choice. I stayed in touch with Marilyn as our kids grew. She went back to work at GE and became engaged soon after we divorced, but dumped him two years later. Seems he was unfaithful to her. Justice? You decide. She too has decided to remain single and free. Our positions at work kept us in frequent touch and I heard from her boss that she traveled only with other women or alone but that her travel was only sporadic, like mine. 




Child of Adultery



Epilogue

Marilyn and I are going to talk to Larry and Paula who had just graduated from college. It's been ten years and it's time for them to know the truth and to have the records that I insisted Marilyn get from Chad. We debated on telling Bill as well, but after all, what's to be gained by his knowing? We agreed to let Larry or Paula tell him if they choose, but I have doubts they will. As Paula said later, "He's our brother so what's to tell?" As for Chad, he knows he is a father but he had nothing to do with them, just as Uncle Frank had nothing to do with me. In Uncle Frank's case, dad forced that decision on him. In Chad's case, it was my choice. Chad had no say in the matter.

I flew in from Cleveland where I now worked and Marilyn came in from Denver. We all agreed to meet here in St. Louis where our three children still lived. Marilyn wanted to be the one to tell them and I agreed. She said it would be sort of a catharsis for her. She had mellowed over the years and I know she regretted her part in our marriage. She told me so during several of our annual meetings. We meet once a year just to compare notes on our kids and to catch up with each other. It started right after her separation from what's-his-name. 

Marilyn has asked me several times why we can't get back together again, now that we have moved on and the pain of what she did has subsided with the years. She said she still loves me and always has. She said her second marriage didn't survive because it wasn't me and according to her ex husband, that's why he cheated. I considered it each time she asked but somehow I couldn't let it die. I still remembered the hurt and the pain and I had no desire to repeat that. I loved her as much as ever but I still didn't trust her.

After we talk to the kids, I'll go back to Judy, my live in girlfriend. She has no desire to make anything permanent and she is all I need to keep me happy. And she certainly does make me happy. Maybe after I retire and get too old for all the sex stuff, I'll give Marilyn a call. Maybe when trust isn't so much of an issue. Maybe. Until then, Judy's waiting.