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EGBDF

By: StangStar06



Author's note: This week's story is a little different for me. I wanted to do something that several of you have asked for. A story where the husband doesn't get angry and turn into a Green Beret or MMA fighter and kick everyone's ass. He's just a normal, shell shocked guy with no plans for world domination beginning with ruining his ex and her new man's lives. He just leaves it up to Karma. And gets on with his life. If you don't like it, don't worry. next week will be something different and I'm working on something special for Halloween. Thanks for reading it. And a special thanks to Mikothebaby for editing this story. SS06. 

* * * * * *

I have to admit, I never saw this coming. My car was running rough. It needed to be serviced and I didn't have the money for it. I probably shouldn't be driving it, but I had no choice. I closed the door and saw the looks of people around me as I got out. My BMW didn't belong in this neighborhood.

I headed for the secretary of state office. As I walked into the office, probably based on the way I was dressed, the security guard pointed me towards a license renewal lane. I shook my head and he looked at me puzzled.

"Do you need another picture taken?" he asked. I shook my head negatively. 

"Well what are you here for?" he asked. Almost every head in the crowded office turned to listen. Most of them didn't have the decency to even pretend that they weren't interested.

"I'm here to register for State Aid," I said quietly. "You know, Welfare? As in I have no income and no money and I'm going to fucking starve to death, welfare? Or is it, they just came and threw me and all of my stuff out of the crappy apartment that I moved into after I was forced out of the house that I thought I'd live in for the rest of my fucking life, welfare? Maybe it's, I can't find a God damned job to save my ass, because no one will hire me, welfare?"

"Calm down, lady," he said, in a nervous voice. "Half the people in this office are here registering for or dealing with welfare. I know what you need. Go over there and get one of those forms. Fill it out completely and put it in the inbox at the counter. Then have a seat and someone will call you."

"How long will it take for them to call me?" I asked. 

"Not very long," he said. "It shouldn't be longer than maybe, 2 or 3 hours at the most."

He wasn't kidding. There were people sleeping while they waited to be called. There was a magazine rack in the corner, but it was empty. I got the feeling that most of the magazines weren't returned when the people who read them were finished with them.

Everyone in the place looked at me constantly. I knew they were wondering why the fuck someone who dressed like me, was here.

It's a long story and kind of funny actually. It all started exactly 2 years from next Tuesday.

My name is Melinda Conrad. Okay I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that my name sounds an awful lot like Mel Conrad. That guy who struck it rich last year and gives away all of that money to charities and all of that bullshit. Well you're right. He's my husband. Okay, technically he's my ex-husband. And you know what else? I got a bum deal. I am directly responsible for that man becoming a God damned gazillionaire and I have nothing to show for it. Okay maybe I'm not directly responsible, but if I hadn't forced him to divorce me, he wouldn't be rich. So I deserve some of the credit don't I?

Two years ago, we were really fucking happy. We weren't rich by a long shot. We were just your typical, average, everyday, middle class family. My husband Melvin Conrad, my daughter, Melissa Conrad and me, were three peas in a pod. We were a very close family. We had a great house. It's the one they forced my ass out of. Then I had to move into that shitty apartment that I was just evicted from, but anyway on with the story. The three of us loved each other like there was no tomorrow.

My husband wasn't very exciting, but he was reasonably good looking and he loved me. He worked very hard to provide for our family and as I've said we were comfortable.

Our daughter had just completed her first year at the state university when it hit me. There are so many names for the same thing these days, but you know what I had. Some people call it a midlife crisis, others call it a hormone imbalance and still others call it empty nest syndrome. They're all great names for "spoiled woman gets bored and does stupid shit and usually regrets it-itis." Occasionally it hits men too, so you guys out there shouldn't feel superior or immune to it. When you see a balding forty something man driving a fucking sports car with a twenty year old blonde beside him, he's probably got it.

Any way I had asked my husband out to dinner because I had to tell him something. Something awful that I had done and I needed to clear the air about. I'm a decent looking woman to say the least. At forty, I was still capable of turning heads on a good day. I'm a little heavier than I was when we first met, but it's all in good places. Mel loved me so much and I was soooo stupid.

He showed up a little bit late, no more than 5 minutes so I didn't beat him up over it. He smiled at me. His face still lit up like a Christmas tree every time he saw me. You'd think that it had been weeks since we'd seen each other but it was actually only that morning.

I was really nervous as he wrapped his arms around me and gave me a hug. I had butterflies in my stomach then. Something told me I was making a BFM. For those of you who aren't up on your technical jargon, BFM stands for Big Fucking Mistake.

He sat down across from me. His expression was one of absolute joy. I was sure he thought that this was a good thing. I hated to crush the man that I'd lived with, loved, and raised a daughter with for over twenty years, but I had no choice. It was him or my happiness.

"How was your day, honey?" he asked. God damn him, he was the one who'd gone out and worked all day. What did he think I'd been doing, all day? Did he think I'd was working on a cure for cancer or trying to solve the Middle East crisis? I woke up at 9 and loaded the dishwasher. I threw a load of laundry in the washing machine and my day was halfway over.

"Mel, I want a divorce," I told him. He spat the sip of water he'd just drunk straight into my face. I'm sure it was an accident but it ruined my makeup and my hair. I just sat there with water and spit running down my face while he tried to get his breath back.

"Are you serious?" he asked quietly.

"Very," I replied with as much dignity as I could muster, considering that I looked like a fucking raccoon with my water proof mascara proving once and for all that it wasn't water proof.

He stood up and wiped his mouth and said, "My attorney will be in touch with you." The pain and the heartache on his face alone hurt me. I felt like the lowest form of pond scum on earth. Everything inside of me, every fiber of my being told me to get down on my knees and tell him it was just a joke. But I didn't move. He turned to walk away after throwing some bills on the table.

"Wait Mel," I said. "This isn't the way this was supposed to go. Don't you want to talk about it and ask me some questions? Don't we need to discuss how the divorce will go?"

He turned to me and looked at me curiously and asked, "Why?"

I was shocked. I'd rehearsed this whole thing over a hundred times in my head. And this reaction hadn't come up in any of them. He hadn't gotten angry and he hadn't resorted to crying. He hadn't demanded to know why or threatened me at all. He'd simply accepted what I was saying and moved on.

"What would that help? Would it make me feel any better? Would it make you feel any different? I doubt all of those. I'm sure for you to be doing this it means you've found someone else and you want to be with him. The way I felt about you obviously isn't enough to change your mind, although it really wouldn't have mattered. Since you're doing this, you've already slept with him, correct?"

I nodded my head and said, "But..." He cut me off.

"Which means that you are of no further interest to me," he said coldly. "Okay, you want questions? Do I need to get a DNA test or is Melissa mine?"

"God Mel," I said. "For heaven's sake of course she's yours. What do you think I am?"

"You really wouldn't like the answer to that question," he said. "Goodbye Melinda." Then he turned and walked away. He didn't seem to be nearly as angry or upset as I thought he'd be.

"God damn it Mel," I screamed after him. "Aren't you going to even try to fight for me?"

My voice rang out across the restaurant. He turned again and from three tables away, delivered his answer. 

"Why, Melinda?" he asked. "I can't change the way you feel. Who am I to try to tell you that your feelings are wrong? You obviously don't love me the way I love you. If you did we wouldn't be doing this. Since you no longer love me, I have to get over you and move on. Besides I only fight for things I want and after hearing what you've had to say this evening, that no longer includes you. Have a great life. I have no intention of trying to stand in your way."

Everyone in the restaurant stared at me as Mel made his way to the door. I felt a shiver go down my spine. I'd read about that kind of feeling. People say that it happens to you when someone walks over the ground that you'll be buried under. I guess what it really means is that as I already told you, I made a BFM.

My heart and my head were both screaming at me, but I couldn't listen to them, then. I called the waiter over and asked him where the ladies room was. 

* * * * * *

When I got home that night, I could tell by the empty drawers and closet that my husband was gone. Any and all chances of calling this off were over. I had the worst headache I could imagine. I picked up my cell phone and called Greg. He'd make me feel better.

"Yeah," he answered.

"It's me," I said. "I told him."

"Cool," he said. "How'd he take it? Did he scream and try to beg you to stay with him? Did he slap you around and beat you up?"

"No," I said. "He just got up and walked away from me. He was very calm. He took it really well under the circumstances."

"Want me to come over and fuck your brains out?" he asked.

"Uhm no," I said. "I just put the torch to a twenty year relationship with a man who worshipped the ground I walked on. I think I need some time alone."

"Okay, see ya," he said. And he hung up. I think that was the moment that I realized that I'd understated my BFM.

I knew all of the reasons why I wanted the divorce. Greg was younger, way younger and he made me feel alive. Greg at 29 years old was 11 years younger than me and nine years older than my daughter. He was wild and uninhibited. He was all of the things that Mel wasn't.

I sat down on the edge of our giant queen sized bed. As I looked at the bed, it had never seemed that big or that empty. I got myself a glass of wine and wondered about the new direction my life would take from here on out. Sometime around midnight, after tossing and turning and failing to find sleep, I took out one of our old photo albums and looked back at some of my twenty two years of memories with Mel.

The next morning was worse. I woke up and wondered why I bothered. I sat at the table and just stared as a cup of my favorite coffee turned into a room temperature sludge. I don't know why I didn't move, but I had no reason to do anything. I kept going over in my mind my conversation at the restaurant with Mel the previous evening and the one with Greg.

Mel had started out the evening looking at me like the sun shone out of my ass. By the end of the evening he looked at me completely differently. He looked at me the way he looked at a problem or a project at work. As if I was just another thing to solve to get to the end of his day. 

And Greg had blown it big time. What he should have done was to offer to just come over and hold me or be with me. When someone has a great emotional loss, they need to know that someone cares about them. I knew that Greg was young though, so I gave him a break. Training him to become the man I thought he could be was a big part of the excitement.

I knew that I'd hurt Mel badly. That was what I felt so bad about. But I was sure that eventually he'd be okay. Who was I kidding? I knew that he'd be miserable without me. But at the time, all I thought about was my own feelings. My term of service was over. Shit, I'd given the man the best years of my God damned life. We'd done our part for the propagation of the species. We'd raised a child. Our debt to society was over. It was time to have some fun. I wanted to be happy but I didn't want to wait until my golden years. Why not be happy while I was still young enough to know what happiness was?

* * * * * *

I woke up in my hotel room the morning after she told me. At first I didn't know where I was. The room was dark and the sheets smelled different. They smelled antiseptic, like medicine, so I guess they were clean enough. They didn't have that smell that was the culmination of weeks of washing with whatever soap was on sale. Or the traces of body fluids and farts and sex and tears and spilled food that someone had tried to wash out of them. In other words they didn't smell like love.

I sat up in the bed and remembered where I was and why I was here before I blew it all and reached for her. My mind remembered that she wouldn't be here, but my body and my heart missed her just the same. 

EGBDF, I told myself and I steeled myself for what I had to do. I had many things to do before I could allow myself to sink into the depression that I knew was coming. I debated calling in today and just staying here to be miserable. Eventually though, I'd have to go out and today was as good a day as any.

Before turning on the lights and destroying the blanket of darkness I'd pulled around me so my tears didn't show, I made a list of the things I needed to do today. I needed to call a lawyer. The guy I usually dealt with didn't do divorces or family law. Perhaps he could recommend someone though.

I had to find a more permanent living situation. I was probably leaning towards either giving Melinda the house or selling it. Whichever worked out better for me, I saw no need to make any decisions based on Melinda's needs or comfort.

I needed to call my daughter to make sure that she could always reach me. I had no intention of making her choose between me and the whore, but I also wanted her to know that I still wanted to be as big a part of her life as she'd allow me. I needed to separate Melinda from me, financially. I'd let the judge and the lawyers settle everything but I wouldn't give her a penny more than I had to. With that in mind I needed to make sure that my assets stayed mine. 

We also had a few social obligations that I needed to tactfully inquire about. I had no intention of becoming a hermit but I really didn't feel like seeing anyone or trying to go out and become some parody of myself by pretending that everything was fine, while the shreds of my tattered heart proclaimed that to be false. With that in mind I called my father to talk about the barbecue we were supposed to go to on the weekend for their anniversary.

"Hey Bob," I said when he picked up the phone.

"Mel, how's it going?" he asked. "You are still bringing the Dos Equis aren't you?"

"Bob, that's what I was calling to talk to you about," I said. "I really would like to wish you and Jean a happy anniversary. Your marriage is what I'd love to have when I'm your age. But I can't come on Saturday so I was hoping that you'd allow me to take the two of you out to dinner Friday night instead."

"Stuck at work huh?" he said. "I remember those days. Don't let it get you down, Mel. So we're having a double date huh? I haven't been on one of those in years. Sounds like fun. Maybe you'll let me dance a couple of dances with your wife. I always did like younger women."

"Bob, it's only going to be me and the two of you. I'm not seeing anyone right now. But if it's an uncomfortable situation for you, just tell me and I'll send you a present or something else," I said.

"Mel, what the hell is going on?" he asked. "Your voice hasn't sounded right since you started this damned call."

"Bob, your daughter asked me to go to dinner last night," I said. "While we were there she told me that she wants a divorce. She's found someone else and she wants to be with him."

"What?" he yelled. "She did what? There has to be something else going on? Did you do something to her? Are you cheating on her?"

"No Sir," I said quietly.

"Mel, I'll call you back. I need to..." he began.

"Please Bob, I don't want to cause a fuss. I'm sure she'll tell you in her own good time," I said. "I don't want to create any trouble or distract from the event in any way. What we're supposed to be celebrating is the fact that you guys have been married for 45 years. We're supposed to be honoring the ones who made it, not torn apart by the ones who didn't. I'll call you next week and we can talk then. I just didn't want you or Jean to think that I didn't recognize how special what you two have built is."

One down one to go, I thought as I dialed my daughter Melissa's number. Luckily for me she was away from her phone. I guess I could have dialed her cell phone but I didn't really want to talk to her. I just left my cell number and let her know that she could reach me there from now on or at my work number.

Another call and I had a referral to a divorce lawyer. The woman sounded evil over the phone but she agreed to see me later that morning. 

I pulled out my laptop and started looking at condos and apartments. Most of them were the same except for the prices. Somehow I didn't see the benefit of buying a space in a building that you'd never own. I guess I'd eventually want to buy another house so renting was fine. Hell, I might even end up buying Melinda out of our house.

I took a quick shower and dressed in my usual business wear. I didn't really like ties but I could rock a sweater and sport coat with the best of them. I decided to look into getting a gym membership as well. Eventually I'd probably want to start sprucing up the property if I was going to try to interest another woman in taking a chance on me.

I went outside and smiled for the first time since Melinda broadsided me yesterday. There was a woman with a small boy in the hotel's parking lot. She was having trouble dragging him away from my Mustang. 

There used to be three things that made me smile every time I saw them. My wife, Melinda was the first one. My daughter, Melissa was the second. The last was my 09 Mustang GT. It never failed, every time I looked at that car I just smiled and shook my head. It takes me back to when I was a kid rolling my Hot Wheels cars all over the floor in our living room.

The drive to work was always a pleasure and today was no different. It was a chance to concentrate on something other than how shitty I felt for a little while.

I walked into my office and my assistant Joyce was on me like a hound on a fox. "Melinda has called you twice already this morning," she said. "She says she can't get through on your cell."

"Joyce, have a seat," I said, indicating that she should sit in my chair at my desk. She sat down and smiled broadly.

"Have you finally realized that, I'm the reason for your success and decided to reward me justly?" she asked.

Joyce was a friend besides being my assistant. We'd been together for so long that it was almost like we were related. 

"Joyce, remember the dinner I had to hurry out of here for last night?" I asked. She nodded her head. 

"I'll bet somebody got lucky last night," she said.


EGBDF



"Well if somebody did, it wasn't me," I said. "All I got was my teeth kicked. Melinda told me that she wants a divorce."

Joyce looked at me and saw through my façade of ambiguity. "That bitch!" she said. "I guess you never saw this coming did you?" I shook my head. Joyce stood up and pushed me down into the chair. She rubbed my shoulders and tried to be sympathetic.

"It you need anything, just let me know," she said.

"For now, I won't ask you to lie. Could you just tell her the truth? Tell her that I'm not accepting her calls," I said.

Joyce looked at me and nodded. I could tell she wanted to ask more. Everyone always wants the dirt. But she could tell I didn't want to talk about it. She was kind enough and smart enough not to push.

Just before lunch, I grabbed the file folder that I'd put copies of all of my financial documents into. I left the office and headed for the appointment with the attorney.

Her office wasn't what I was expecting. I guess I thought it would be a large office building and that either the entirety or a large portion of it would be owned or leased by a large law firm. I was wrong on both counts. It was a small, single story office that was part of a strip mall. Next to her office on one side was a small medical clinic. The other side was occupied by a Frederick's of Hollywood franchise. Further down the strip there was a liquor store.

All of the businesses seemed to be thriving. The incongruity of the types of businesses seemed bizarre at first until I gave it further thought. Once I did, I realized that there was actually one business missing. If your marriage was in trouble, you could come here and buy your wife some lingerie. You could plan out a nice romantic evening and buy things from Frederick's to try to put some spice back into it.

If that just doesn't work you have the handy divorce lawyer. You find out that she's cheated on you, so you go to the clinic for STD screening and then to the liquor store to drown your sorrows. The mall offered quick, easy, convenient one-stop shopping. The only thing missing was a therapist or marriage counselor. Maybe a detective agency and a gun shop would be handy too.

I opened the door and went in. A cute older lady asked me who I was and the purpose of my visit.

"Melvin Conrad, to see Ann Wilson," I said. "I have a noon appointment."

She smiled and told me to have a seat and Ms. Wilson would be with me shortly. The woman had to be at least 60 but she was still a stunner. Almost before my butt hit the seat, Ann Wilson opened the door to her office and gestured for me to come in.

Ann Wilson is a larger woman with longish inky black hair and piercing blue eyes. She looked at me with the same gaze that all predators use when examining possible prey.

"Tell me a story," she said. The statement surprised me. I looked at her in puzzlement. She just arched one eyebrow higher and continued to look at me.

"Okay," I said. "Once upon a time there were three little pigs..."

"Very funny," she smirked. "Tell me about your divorce and the reasons for it Mr. Conrad. Time is money. I don't want to waste either yours or mine, but it's very unlikely that I'll be taking your case."

My shoulders slumped and I started telling her the long drawn out tale of my marriage to Melinda. When I got to the part about the dinner the previous evening she hissed and sucked in a big gulp of air.

"Wait!" she said sharply. "She did what?"

"She arranged for us to have dinner at her favorite restaurant and told me that she wanted a divorce because she found someone new. And she was already having sex with him," I said.

Ms. Wilson stood up. "Have you ever cheated on her?" she asked and she leaned over and looked at me closely.

"Never, Ma'am," I said. 

"Have you ever hit her?" she asked. "Okay forget about that, you just don't seem like the type. "What did you do when she told you this?"

"Uhm, there isn't really anything I could do Ma'am. I left money on the table for her dinner, if she decided to eat. Then I went home. I packed my clothes and checked into a hotel," I said. Ms. Wilson shook her head.

"That wasn't the smartest thing to do. You leaving will probably give her temporary residence in the home until we reach a settlement. Is the home in your name, her name, or both?" she asked writing things down quickly on a legal pad.

"My name," I said. "Melinda doesn't work outside of our home."

"Then why the fuck did you leave?" She asked shaking her head. "You're as bad as the women, Jeezus." She threw the pad across the room and looked at me. For a while, I got that same feeling that I got when my third grade teacher was trying to get me to remember my times tables. That, "Shit, how many times do we have to go over this?" feeling. It was as if Ms. Wilson expected me to know all of the ins and outs of divorce laws and procedures.

I stood up and her head whipped around on her neck to take me in that fierce gaze again. "Where are you going?" she snapped.

"Well, I figured you didn't want my case because I've done everything wrong," I said.

All at once her gaze softened and she pushed a button on her desk. She spoke into the intercom and told her assistant, who was also her Aunt, to bring in the cart.

The gorgeous older woman came into the office with a cart full of coffee and fresh donuts.

Ms. Wilson pored herself a cup and grabbed two donuts. I got a cup of black coffee myself.

"You didn't do anything wrong, Mr. Conrad," she said. "That's why I'm so pissed. Normally, I don't represent men in divorce cases because usually they're in the wrong. The typical scenario involves a man who has cheated on his wife multiple times, usually with some trophy type woman. When his wife has had all she can stand, he tries to rape her in the divorce and leave her penniless and homeless."

"I've developed a reputation for getting my clients the better end of the deal in divorces, so now I have a lot of men trying to use me to get better deals when I don't feel they deserve it. Why the fuck should they get to have their cake and eat it too? If they cheat and destroy a marriage, they should have to pay for it."

"You've worked your whole life supporting this woman. You gave her a good life and home judging from your address and the fact that your daughter is in college. From looking at your financials, I can see that you've been a good provider. And lastly, you're not a very good actor, Mr. Conrad. You're trying to act as if this is all well and fine, but I can see that this has devastated you and you're just trying to keep moving. Shit, you're too shocked to even be angry yet. And the hurt hasn't even set in yet."

"The things that scare me the most are the fact that you're not even trying to fight anything she wants. She says she wants a divorce. You didn't even make her file, you did it because she asked for it. She's the one who's cheating, but you go home and move out of the house that you've worked for, instead of telling her to leave. She should have had to move in with her lover or her parents if they're still living."

"Mr. Conrad, I am definitely taking your case. Someone has to protect you, if only to keep you from giving her everything you have."

We spent the rest of the afternoon going over my financial records and the value of our assets to determine the best way for me to proceed. There were several times when Ms. Wilson just looked at me as if I was stupid and asked me questions like, "So you want to just give her the house free and clear, while you pay the mortgage. In other words, you want to pay for her to live there with the guy she's fucking?"

"Well, I guess not," I said. But inside me, the impact of her words was beginning to sink in. 

"Why are you giving her nearly all of your savings?" she asked.

"Well, she'll need money to live on," I said. "She doesn't have a job. It's only money. I can always make more."

I thought Ms. Wilson was going to slap me. "She doesn't have a job because for most of her life she sat on her ass while you supported her. She has a college degree, so she can get a job. She's the one who wanted a change in her life. Let's give her one. I think we should go for a 60/40 split in your favor. We'll pay her alimony for 6 months and no longer. All other assets should be split 50/50 including the house and you get to keep your 401K," she said. 

I left the office feeling shell shocked. I had no idea that things were going to be this rough. Ms. Wilson gave me the name of a good real estate company to list the house with. She thought that it was best to put the house on the market. Usually the woman was allowed to keep the house until any children had come of age. Our daughter was already living on campus, so there was no need for any delay in selling. And since I didn't need Melinda's approval to sell the house, the faster I put it on the market, the faster this whole thing could be over.

I drove back to my office and saw Melinda's car in the parking lot when I pulled up. I saw her get out of her car, so I drove away. I still wasn't ready to speak to her. 

* * * * * *

When I woke up this morning, I felt like shit about the way things had gone with Mel and I. I decided that maybe I should just talk to Mel about it. I needed to let him know that my intention wasn't to hurt him. I just needed to move on with my life. I'd tried calling him, but he didn't answer his cell. I tried calling his office and Joyce told me at first that he wasn't in yet. I realized that I'd been stupid. Mel never went to the office early. He always used to tell me that every moment away from me was torture, so sitting in his office when he could be with me was pointless.

I called back after nine a.m. and asked Joyce if he'd arrived. She finally told me he was there, but he wasn't accepting calls from me. I had trouble processing that.

"Is he really busy, Joyce?" I asked her.

"No busier than usual," she said. "In fact I think he's not really that busy at all."

"Then may I speak to him?" I asked. In all of the years that Joyce has worked for Mel, I've never heard her act or speak in a manner that was less than courteous. I've seen her speak to difficult clients and keep her cool long after anyone else would have hung up on them.

"God Damn it, Melinda," she yelled. "He doesn't want to fucking talk to you. What did you expect? You rip his heart out and then you want to talk. If you ask me, he's lucky to be rid of you. Don't call here anymore." Then she hung up the phone.

I didn't really even consider that Mel might not be happy. He seemed fine last night. But really this was a good thing for both of us. The fact that he didn't want to speak to me, hurt me. I was about to call Joyce back and remind her that she worked for Mel, not vice versa and it would be up to him to tell me whether or not I could call him, when my phone chirped. I had another call waiting. I answered the phone and heard my mother's voice.

"Melinda, what the hell is going on with you guys?" she asked. 

"What do you mean, Mom?" I asked her.

"Your father says that you and Mel are going through something," she said. "Do I need to come over there and straighten things out?"

"There's nothing to straighten out, Mother," I said. "Melissa is grown now and I just feel like I need to move on. I'm young enough to do some other things with my life. I'm bored, I need to spread my wings and fly."

"Melinda, what you really mean is spread your legs and fuck, don't you?" she asked. I was shocked. I've never heard my mother use language like that before.

"Melinda, do you remember my sister, your Aunt Kathy?" she asked. I just grunted so she knew that I'd heard her.

"When Kathy got to be about your age, she started spreading her legs for the milk man. Her husband eventually found out about it and beat the milkman to a bloody pulp. He made Kathy sleep in the basement on a cot for a year."

"Mom, what does that have to do with me?" I asked.

"Tell Mel that your father and I will buy him a cot for you," she said.

"Mom, it's not like that," I said. "Mel and I will both be happier."

"That man loves you," she snapped. "You're not going to find anyone else who's going to love you that much. Your father said that his voice sounded like he was barely hanging on. How could you do that to someone who's taken care of you for most of your life?"

"Mom, he'll get over it," I said. Then she started muttering under her breath about stupid kids and hung up on me.

I was beginning to see that everyone was trying to paint me as the bad guy; just because I wanted to get out of a bad situation. What was I supposed to do? Sacrifice my happiness on the Altar of Saint Mel. To hell with that idea, I was moving on.

It was Friday. I was going to go out with Greg that evening. I was excited, because for the first time, I wouldn't have to hide. No more sneaking around and having sex in cars or quickies whenever we could get together. But I wanted to straighten this thing out with Mel, so I decided to go and see him.

The guards in the building wouldn't let me in. I smelled Joyce's hands in that. Just as I got back into my car, Mel's Mustang pulled into the lot. I got out of my car and waved at him. He backed out of the lot and drove away. I was so accustomed to him being happy to see me at any time that I just sat there in shock.

I drove home to get ready for my date. I showered and used my favorite bath scents and perfumes. I wanted to drive Greg crazy. I put on a dress that I loved. It was a very rich blue that really looked good against my long brown hair and blue eyes. I'd had the dress for a long time but it still looked good on me. Maybe not as good as when I was thirty, but I had never gotten any complaints.

I spent a lot of time doing my hair and makeup. I wanted Greg to be really proud to have me on his arm. I had to let people know that there was a reason that he was with me instead of some hot 25 year old.

I'd just gotten done doing my hair when the door slammed. A lot of things went through my mind. I thought that maybe Mel had come back and was angry. I got up from my vanity and went to see who it was. 

"Mother, have you lost your fucking mind?" shrieked my daughter Melissa. She ran up the stairs and looked at me like I was crazy. "Where is my father?"

From the expression on her face, you'd have thought that I'd killed him. "I...I...I don't know, Lissa," I stuttered. 

We ended up having a big argument about what I was doing. Why the hell was everyone assuming that I was making a mistake?

"Don't you talk to me like that, young lady," I yelled at her. I needed to get control of the situation back. "I'm your mother and you need to treat me with some respect. If you can't do that, then maybe you shouldn't come into my home or expect me to continue to pay for your education."

"Mother, if you'd act like you were worthy of respect I'd give it to you. Right now I think your hormones are out of balance and you're ruining your life. If I didn't love you and want the best for you, I'd just let you piss into the wind. On the other hand, this is my home too and Daddy paid for it, not you. Daddy also pays for my schooling, not you."

Just as I got ready to reply to what she'd said, the doorbell rang. She went to the door and opened it. She stared at Greg as if he'd just dropped in from Mars.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"I'm Greg, baby," he said.

"Greg Baby who?" she asked looking at him strangely. "What kind of name is Greg Baby?"

"Mother, you're kidding right?" she asked. "I have to get you to a doctor."

"Come in Greg," I said looking past her.

"And who is this lovely creature?" asked Greg, he hadn't taken his eyes off of Melissa since he arrived.

"Greg Martin, meet my daughter, Melissa Conrad," I said.

Greg held out his hand to Melissa.

"Don't bother, Fonzie," she snapped. "You won't be around for very long. Mother, can I speak with you upstairs for a moment?" She grabbed my arm and dragged me up the stairs.

"You cannot be serious," she said. "What is he 25?"

"He's 29," I said.

"And what does he do for a living?" she asked. I didn't actually know, so I shrugged my shoulders. 

"Melissa, we can talk about all of this later," I said. "When I get home from my date, we'll sit down and talk about all of it."

"Mother, I won't be here," she said. "I'm not going to stay in this house until either you come to your senses or Daddy decides to move back in." Then she left slamming the door on her way out.

I went back downstairs determined not to let her mess up my evening. "Where are we going Greg?" I asked. 

* * * * * *

Greg's car wouldn't start. He'd had to get it jump started twice on his way over to my house, so I drove us. We ended up at a grungy club that he wanted to go to. He danced with me once and danced with a lot of other people too, including a couple of times when he danced with two other male friends. He didn't introduce me to any of his friends. My dress was ruined when someone spilled beer all over it. By the time we left, I had no money left.

I drove us back home. Greg came in and we spent the rest of the evening having sex. It was different from the first few times. It wasn't as good, even though he did all of the same things. I found out that Greg wasn't into performing oral sex. I put it down as one of the things I was going to have to teach him.

He fucked me three times, each time he got me to the point where I almost came and then collapsed on the bed. I thought that maybe he was trying to tease me into one monster orgasm after keeping me on the edge. I waited for his batteries to recharge, thinking that this last time would be the one. There was no last time, Greg was snoring.

I woke up early the next morning and found Greg moving his things into my house. "We're going to be really happy, Babe," he gushed.

I was a little bit pissed because he hadn't asked my permission to move in, but when I thought about it, I realized that all couples go through those little arguments and disagreements.

I told him about my parents' barbecue and he told me he wasn't going. That was the beginning of our first argument. I couldn't believe how badly the day was going. Maybe it was because I was comparing him to Mel. That was unfair to both of them.

Just when I thought that things couldn't get any worse, Mel showed up. I heard the rumble of his car and knew it was him. I ran down the stairs to try and head off a confrontation. I saw the two of them standing on the porch talking. Then Mel turned and left before I could speak to him. I ran down the driveway calling him but he didn't even slow down.

"What did he want?" I asked.

"He's a good guy," said Greg. "And his car is so fucking cool. He just said to treat you right and he hoped that we'd be happy. He came by to get some more of his stuff. He said he came now because he thought we'd already be at your parents' house. He said something about us having to move out soon."

"What?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Why are you yelling at me?" he asked. He walked off in a huff and when I went inside the house, he had his feet on my white linen couch and was drinking a beer.

I just looked at him.

"I'll go to your parents' house with you if you let me have a party," he said.

He explained to me that he wanted to invite a few of his friends over to introduce them to me and let them see how happy we were going to be. I was so glad that he'd offered to go to my parent's barbecue, that I said yes immediately.

I was also glad because we seemed to be leaning to compromise and make decisions as equals. It was a great step in our relationship.

I won't go into the details very much, but my parents and most of my family and friends hated Greg. My dad ended up throwing him out of the house. Well, my dad just told him to get out. It was my brother who grabbed him by the collar and frog marched him to the door. I told my dad that he was wrong for making Greg leave. He told me that I could go with him. 




EGBDF



I told him that he was blowing things totally out of proportion. All Greg had done was to fart loudly several times and tell a few stupid jokes. He was just trying to be friendly in a strange situation with a group of people he didn't know. Maybe he was a little loud and unpolished but I intended to spend the rest of my life with him, so they needed to adjust.

When we got back to the house I noticed that more of Mel's things were gone. He'd left me a card with his attorney's name and number on it so I could give the information to my attorney. I didn't have one yet. 

Saturday night, Greg and I stayed in. He invited several people over and they sat around playing games on a video game system that he'd installed on my television. I was alone for most of the night until they left. Then Greg and I had sex and he fell asleep.

Monday I woke up and asked Greg if he needed to go to work or something. I wanted some time to clean my house, it hadn't been this messy since Melissa was in her teens and had a party.

It was then that I found out that Greg was between assignments, or in other words he was unemployed.

The doorbell rang and Greg answered it. "It's for you babe," he screamed.

I stumbled down the stairs, still trying to come to grips with the parameters of my new relationship. I noticed that Greg was staring at whoever was at the door intently.

As I stepped up to the doorway I saw there was a young woman there. She was in her early twenties and kind of pretty. She had one of those slim briefcases resting by her legs and a file folder in her hands. She was chewing gum and she just looked bored. She looked as if she was selling magazine subscriptions or something to work her way through school. 

She looked up at me as I approached her and asked for me by name. I was sure that she'd gotten my name from one of those internet lists. The companies that compile those lists, buy and sell addresses and names, so they can sell you products that your history suggests that you'd be interested in.

"Melinda Conrad?" she asked, in a really bored sounding voice.

"Yes," I said. "But I'm not..."

"You've been served," she said. She handed me a set of papers and before I could ask her anything else she turned and walked away. She was still cracking her gum and looking into her briefcase for another file. She looked at her watch, got into a car, and drove off.

"She has a really nice ass," said Greg after watching her all the way to her car.

I looked down at the document she'd given me. I guess I'd expected Mel to just sit by and wait for me to decide how our divorce would go. He obviously hadn't. The card he'd left the previous day with his lawyer's information on it was still upstairs. He was pushing ahead with the divorce while I was beginning to question whether or not I even wanted one.

Besides the divorce papers, there was a paper notifying me that Mel was selling my house as part of the divorce settlement. I had 30 days to find new living space or make other arrangements. There were also details on how, if I chose to, I could buy Mel out of our current house.

Mel was proposing to divorce on the grounds of irreconcilable differences. There would be no child support since Melissa was over 18. He intended to continue to support her but the documents indicated that her agreement would be separate from mine and I'd have to find out the details of it from her. I knew there'd be no problems there. Mel loved his daughter. She'd probably be better off than I would be.

He was offering me a small amount of alimony for six months only and 40% of our savings and checking account balances. He had excluded me from his retirement plan. If I didn't accept this settlement, he'd file under infidelity, which I'd already admitted to. There was simply too much information for me to go into. Since I'd been the one asking for the divorce, he was also not paying for my attorney. That meant that my attorney fees would eat away at any settlement I did get. There was also the fact that under the circumstances, Mel had been generous to me as far as the house went. He could have simply thrown me out.

When we first bought the house, my name wasn't included on the mortgage because I didn't want it there. We weren't sure that we'd be able to afford the payments and if we lost the house or had to declare bankruptcy, we figured that one of us still having good credit might be a good thing. 

Since the house was totally in Mel's name, he could have simply thrown me out. Especially since I'd cheated on him and brought Greg into the house to live. As all of these things went through my mind, I realized that I was in trouble. For over twenty years Mel had handled all of the details about our life. He'd paid all of the bills, handled the mortgage, bought the cars, and done everything else. I wasn't sure I knew how to go about finding a new place to live, let alone figuring out how to pay for it.

Mel had also been a gentleman in that he hadn't emptied our bank accounts. He had only taken 50 percent out of both checking and savings. That meant that all of the money in the accounts wasn't mine. If I spent more than 40% of the former total balance, I'd have to pay it back.

A bigger problem was the house. Our house was worth roughly $200,000. That meant if the house sold for that amount. I'd get $80,000. But if I wanted to live in it, I'd have to pay Mel $120,000. I wasn't sure that I'd be able to get a mortgage or a loan for that much, especially since I had no work history and no credit on my own. I also couldn't take out any kind of equity loan because again the house was not in my name, so on paper I had no equity.

I needed to get the cheapest lawyer I could find, as quickly as I could find him. I needed to talk to Mel to see if there was any way we could work this out. Maybe I could just give him the house in exchange for letting me live in it until I got my feet under me. That could also give me a few months to figure out what I wanted to do about the divorce. 

Mel and I really needed to talk. The problem was that he simply would not speak to me. I decided that I needed to get someone to intercede for me. I called my Dad and asked him if he'd call Mel for me. He refused.

"Melinda, you're my daughter. I'm really shocked and disappointed by this whole situation. That man has been a far better son than I ever expected. I do have to call him soon. I need to apologize to him for our last phone call. He called me a couple of days ago trying to arrange to spend some time with your mother and I for our anniversary. I finally dug out of him why he couldn't come to the barbecue. He didn't come because he didn't want there to be any drama or distractions from our anniversary. I couldn't believe what he was saying you did to him." I could hear my mother in the background.

"Then you showed up with that fucking hoodlum and ruined our party. To tell you the truth, I wish that Mel had come to the barbecue instead of you. So if you're trying to get me to con him into meeting with you, forget it. He's suffering enough as it is. Let the man have some peace. You wanted a divorce. He's giving you one. Although if it had been me, if I'd been married to you and you tried something like that, I'd have kicked your ass." Then my father hung up the phone on me.

I decided to call my daughter and see if she'd help me. She did after all want us to get back together. Melissa was even less helpful than her grandparents were. She wouldn't speak to me at all. I called her cell phone several times and it went straight to voice mail. The third time I tried, she'd changed her greeting to one specifically made for me.

"Hi, this is Melissa. I can't take your call right now. Leave a message at the beep unless you're my ex-mother in which case you shouldn't bother calling or leaving any messages because I don't want to hear from you. Bye."

There's a price to be paid for selfishness. And though I didn't realize it, I was only beginning to pay it.

* * * * * *

Ann Wilson was handling the divorce. She was a great lady. Despite her initial treatment of me during our first meeting, I noticed that she was very caring and concerned for my well being. She called me every day to update me on what was going on and what I could expect to happen as a result of it. She informed me just moments after Melinda had been served. She also asked me about what I wanted to do in each and every situation. Some of the things she wanted me to do just seemed wrong to me. 

She suggested that I take an extended leave of absence from work. That way I would have no income and could probably get away without paying Melinda any alimony at all. I did like my job, but the thought of being tethered to Melinda for any period of time was more than I could stand.

There were several ideas that I'd often wished that I had more time to explore. There were also several places that I wanted to see or visit. Maybe the idea of taking some time off from work wasn't as bad as I'd originally thought. 

"Dad, this place is perfect. It's as big as a frigging house. It has three bedrooms and I love the pool out there. The workout room means that you wouldn't have to join a gym. I think you should take it," said my daughter Melissa. I'd brought Lissa over to the condo I was thinking about leasing. I'd already decided that I liked this place. The monthly note was steep, but they did have both 6 month and one year leases. Right now, a 6 month lease while I looked for a house seemed perfect for me.

Melissa had been wonderful over the past few days. She'd been living with her grandparents so she could be close to me and driving back and forth to her school every other day. Without her support, I wasn't sure that I'd have made it.

Joyce was also great. She'd taken to mothering me and though it was too early, had already started trying to fix me up with someone else. 

"Just because you picked one apple with a worm in it, doesn't mean you have to give up on apples," she said. "It would only take me 15 or 20 minutes to find someone you could be happy with."

Over the past week, I'd begun to hurt less. I wasn't as angry at Melinda and in some ways I could see her side of it. If she truly wasn't happy with me, she deserved to be with someone who could make her happy. My only gripe with her was the way she did it and the cavalier way that she picked to tell me.

For the sake of the years we'd spent together, I deserved better. I guess I'd probably have more respect for her if she'd come to me and told me that she wasn't happy. Maybe she could have given me a chance to spice things up and change our lives so that she could be. There isn't anything that I wouldn't have done for her.

But she chose to go out and find a guy, fuck him and then tell me that she wants a divorce. And now she seems to want to talk about things and try to be friends. Fuck her, I can find my own friends.

I called the manager of the complex and told him that I'd take the condo. It was ready to move into so I'd have a check for him first thing in the morning and I'd like to move in over the weekend. 

As I kissed Lissa goodbye before she drove back to her grandparent's house, I knew that I was going to be okay. I thought back to when I was 8 years old and my parents forced me to take piano lessons. My piano teacher, Mrs. Lipscomb, taught me a rhyme so I could remember the lines on the musical staff, E-G-B-D-F, Every Good Boy Does Fine. I'd tried to be a good boy for my whole God damned life. I'd be fine. At first, when Mel dropped this on me, I saw no way out of it. Only misery and loneliness, but I was beginning to see light at the end of the tunnel.

* * * * * *

I was in trouble and I knew it. Greg had drained all of the money out of the savings account to buy himself a car. Over the past two weeks I'd started to wonder why I wanted to be with him at all. It wasn't bad enough that he moved into the house without asking. He'd taken to using the house as a hangout for all of his friends. They dropped by at any hour of the day or night. And a lot of his friends were women. 

Then he'd started bothering me about how we really weren't in an equal relationship. We didn't share and share alike. He didn't understand why I could have that with Mel, but not with him. So I gave him a key and stupidly gave him access to my bank account and within a week he'd completely drained the savings account on a used Honda.

I'd tried to explain to him the way that the divorce seemed to be going. It looked as if Mel was going to get his 60%. I'd agreed in order to keep from being named as an adulteress and having Greg dragged into it. 

Mel was also unwilling to allow me any latitude concerning the house. We had only 2 weeks left before we had to be out and at the rate things were going, we wouldn't have enough money to put down on another house. I might have to move into an apartment.

Even worse was the news that Mel was going to take a break from working for months or perhaps a couple of years while he got over the depression that our break up put him in. That meant that he'd have no income, so I probably wouldn't get any alimony. He was even letting his daughter down. From what I heard from my sister, Melissa was now staying with my parents so she could support her father emotionally. She was supposedly moving somewhere else this weekend. So he probably wasn't giving her enough money to stay on campus.

Last night had been the worst though. After trying to keep the house clean from the mess that Greg and his friends seemed to leave everywhere, I went out on the deck to relax a bit. I guess I drifted off to sleep. I woke up because someone was tapping me on my shoulder. It was Greg of course.

He wanted a blowjob. I was half asleep so I just opened my mouth and leaned forward. That was when I noticed that his friends were watching. 

"Greg!" I yelled, pushing myself away from him. 

"Come on baby," he said. "Everybody does it. All of my friends get blowjobs from their girls. It's no big deal." I couldn't remember seeing most of his friends with a girl. And the women that did come over to see Greg or his friends were all sluts.

"If you really loved me and really wanted us to be together forever, you wouldn't have a problem with it," he said. "I guess you'll want me to move out next."

"Okay, I'll do it," I heard myself say. I didn't know whether I was doing it because I really thought that he was hurt, or because if I let this relationship break up, it would mean that I'd thrown my marriage away for nothing. 

The next thing I knew Greg's penis was thrusting in and out of my mouth. I wasn't moving my head up and down like usual, Greg was performing for his friends. He'd grabbed me by the back of my head and was thrusting his dick down my throat like he wanted to hurt me. I gagged and he laughed. All of his friends laughed to. I tried to look up and see the expression on his face. I'm sure I was mistaken. It looked like he was smirking at me.

"Take it bitch," he said and then without warning started pumping his sperm down my throat. I choked and had trouble breathing because I wasn't ready for it. He wiped his dick off in my hair and turned back to his friends. "Back to the PlayStation," he roared and they all went back inside the house laughing. "I told you," I heard him stay.

Later on when all of his friends were gone, Greg came to bed. He didn't bother with showering. He just took his clothes off and got into bed. I pretended to be asleep. He rolled me over and started mauling my tits. Then he rubbed my pussy and tried to shove his dick inside of me. At first, the thought of being made love to by a younger man had done wonders for me. I'd been thinking about it lately though and I realized what was wrong. Greg didn't make love to me, we just had sex.

It was a totally physical thing with no emotional connection; at least none on his part. "No, Greg," I said.

"Come on, baby. Don't be like that," he said. He hadn't stopped. He forced his penis into me and I wasn't even wet. It really hurt and I yelled at him and threw him off.

"I'm not in the mood," I yelled. "Good night."

"I'll bet you'd be in the mood, if I was Mel, wouldn't you?" he snapped. Then he left the room slamming the door behind him.

I'm not sure whether I was relieved or upset that he'd left. But I did think about his question and I knew what the answer was. By then I'd begun to realize that I'd been a fool. The only problem was that I had no exit strategy. Greg had told me that he'd be starting work in a few weeks and that things would work out for us after that. He'd needed the car to get back and forth to work and he'd gotten a good deal on it.

I got up about an hour after he'd left. I felt bad about us arguing and wanted to talk about it. Our relationship was spiraling out of control. In a way it was just like what had happened with Mel. In my marriage to Mel I should have spoken to him about my feelings. If I had, maybe we'd still be together. I vowed that I wouldn't make that mistake with Greg. Greg couldn't change if I didn't talk to him about the things I didn't like. We were from different generations and different lifestyles. There were bound to be conflicts.

I went downstairs into the living and heard a sound. It sounded like moaning. One of Greg's God damned friends was fucking some slut in my house, I thought. When I walked into the room I saw that I was right, only it wasn't one of Greg's friends. Greg was being straddled by some chunky blond woman with glasses who was energetically thrusting herself up and down on him. Greg lay back on the rug with his hands behind his neck just enjoying it. The girl noticed me first. Her hand went up to her mouth and she stopped moving.

"Don't stop, baby," said Greg. He hadn't seen me yet. The girl pointed at me and his gaze followed her outstretched finger.

His eyes got bigger and his face paled. He quickly moved out from under the girl and came over to me, still naked.

"I know you're upset," he said. "But this is really your fault. If you had given me sex when I wanted it, this would never have happened."

I didn't say a word. I just turned and went out onto my deck. I sat down in one of the deck chairs that I'd seen on the internet and Mel had painstakingly built and stained to make me happy. As I sat in the chair I noticed that the other three chairs from the set had been thrown into the pool and the chlorine had already begun to bleach the coloring out of them.

I just started crying then and I prayed that I could wake up and this would all just be a terrible dream. I drifted off to sleep again, there by the pool. I awoke the next morning and looked at my watch. I was freezing. I'd slept outside and Greg hadn't come and woke me up. I was also late for my appointment with the lawyers to sign the final divorce agreement.

I went over to the house and the door was closed. Not only closed but locked. I started banging on the door and after about 10 minutes the girl that Greg had fucked last night let me in. She didn't say anything. She just opened the door and walked away. She was walking back up the stairs when I called her.

"Where are you going?" I asked her.

"Back to bed," she yawned sleepily.

"You aren't sleeping in my room," I said.

"Greg said I could," she spat.

"Get the fuck out of my house or I'll call the police," I yelled.

"Fuck you grandma," she snapped. "I've been thrown out of way better houses than this. I'll be glad when Greg leaves you. You just suck the fun out of everything."

I quickly showered and changed into clothes that were somewhat presentable. I noticed that someone had gone through my purse and all of my cash was gone. I jumped into my car and drove over to Mel's lawyer's office. The man who was representing me was there as well. I sat through about a half hour of legal mumbo jumbo and signed the papers where I was told to.




EGBDF



"The divorce will be final in 90 days," said Mel's lawyer.

"Wait," I asked. "Where's my husband?"

"You don't have a husband any longer," said Mel's lawyer, who was a big mean woman.

"But I still have 90 days to change my mind right?" I asked. I knew that I didn't need 90 days. I didn't need 90 fucking minutes. I wanted Mel to come back home and help me throw those bastards out of our house.

"I was under the impression that I'd get to talk to Mel," I said. "Maybe it isn't too late to turn things around."

"That might be my fault," said my attorney. "In 90 percent of these cases, though it isn't necessary, both parties are usually present just in case something goes wrong. That doesn't mean that he had to be here. It was just expected."

"He isn't coming," said Mel's lawyer. "He signed the papers 3 days ago. He wants nothing to do with you ever again. Right now he isn't even in town. He's off on a cruise with his daughter. They're calling it the freedom cruise. I think you know why."

I sat there and stared at the woman. She seemed to derive great pleasure from the fact that I was miserable. "But what if I've changed my mind?" I whined.

They both looked at me and shook their heads. I could see that none of this meant anything to them. It was just another job. They started to put papers into folders and briefcases and pretty much just ignored me.

"I want to talk to Mel," I screamed. "I want...I want my husband back." I got the distinct impression that neither of them gave a flying fuck what I wanted. I was sure that the woman was trying her best not to laugh at me.

I grabbed her by the shoulders. She looked at my lawyer as if to ask him if he saw me grabbing her. I got the sense that if I didn't let go of her, I was going to get hurt. So I quickly backed off and tried a different tactic.

"You're a woman," I said. "Don't you have any sympathy for me? I've made a huge mistake. Can't you help me?"

"Why would I want to?" she asked coldly. "Besides, the kind of help you need, I'm not qualified to give you." She slammed her briefcase back on the desk and turned towards me.

"I rarely handle men in divorce cases," she began. "I like to look out for women who've been unfairly treated by their spouses. I made an exception in your husband's case because when I first saw him, he was in so much pain that he reminded me of some of the worst women I've represented. He was just shell shocked by what you did to him. If I hadn't helped to pull his head out of his ass, he'd probably have just given you all of his money and the house just to be rid of you."

"But..."I began. Her face took a harder expression.

"But nothing," she snapped. "Do you know how many women there are out there who are abused by their husbands? They get cheated on, beaten, stolen from, and ignored. Most of those women would die to have a man in their lives like the one you just shit on. You put that poor man through hell. Now he's finally free of you and starting to move on. But things aren't going well with your boy toy, so you've decided that you want your husband back. Tough shit, bitch. Life goes on."

She turned and picked up her briefcase and then gestured for me to leave her office because she was leaving too. 

* * * * * *

Three weeks after the divorce papers were signed, Melissa and I were back from our cruise and I'd started puttering around in my workshop. I remember it in great detail. It was one of those moments that we just never forget. I don't know why I never thought of it before. I had an idea to hook a servo controller directly to its own processor and sensor. I made three of them just to test them out. The next day, I took one to one of my company's manufacturing plants. I worked with one of our machine repair techs and hooked it up to a machine that didn't run. It was great. My module gave the machine the ability to sense proximity to object around it and move to avoid them without it being written into a program. I thought I was onto something.

I had another friend who was working in robotics. I gave him one of my modules as well. I went home to refine the remaining module that I had left and in the space of a few days, I'd applied for my first patent. I worked with one of those companies that specialize in getting your inventions to market and things moved very quickly. 

There were literally hundreds of companies that wanted to license my patent and more who were interested in buying pre-assembled modules.

I had to get a lawyer and an accountant. We set up two small companies. One would handle licensing of my patent and anything else I came up with. The other would handle manufacturing modules. We farmed the manufacturing work out to a small local shop that was struggling to keep the doors open. My plan was to eventually buy the shop outright and keep the owner on as the manager.

In less than three months I had more money than I knew what to do with. Melissa and I moved into a house that was even bigger than the one we'd lived in with her mother.

I'd hired Joyce away from my old company because I couldn't think of anyone I'd rather have as my assistant. Melissa worked for me too, while she continued in school. She'd begun to think about switching her major from liberal arts to business.

Mys, whom I was still very friendly with, were happy about our success. They called to invite us to Thanksgiving dinner. Bob told me that I didn't have to worry about Melinda being there. She hadn't been welcome in their house since the fiasco at their anniversary, when she brought, "That man" as they called Greg.

I accepted for both Melissa and myself. After I hung up the phone, I went out to the pool where my daughter and a couple of her friends were tanning. "Mel, just out of curiosity, have you heard from your mother lately?" I asked.

She got up and ushered me into the house, leaving her friends to tan.

"Dad, she calls so often I had to have our number changed," said Melissa. "I don't know what's wrong with her. You gave her all of that money. Hell, the money she got from the sale of the house alone should have allowed her to live comfortably for 2 or 3 years, while she looked for a job or went back to school. I don't know what happened to her common sense. She lives in a crappy little apartment downtown now with Greg. Almost all of her money is gone. I've heard terrible things about him and his friends from people I know at school who also know them."

I looked at her seriously. "Dad, hearing about it would only hurt you. Let's just live our lives. Besides don't you have a date tonight?"

I smiled thinking about it. I was going out on a third date with a woman I'd met on our cruise. Even though we'd gotten along great while on the ship, it took me a long time to get in contact with her after we'd come home. Most of that was my fault. I just couldn't come up with a reason to call her. Finally, just after I'd gotten my patent taken care of, she called me. It turned out my nosy daughter had become tired of me moping around the condo all day and had called her.

Melanie Fitzgerald was a widow. Her husband had been killed in the service five years before we'd met on the cruise. One of the things that got us together was the fact that we'd both lost someone we'd loved deeply. It was a great thing for both of us and we slowly came out of our shells together. By the time that Melissa got us back together, we'd both been missing each other, but just didn't know how to reach out.

Our first date had been the traditional dinner and a movie. The second date had been dancing at a club and tonight we were going on a river cruise, with dinner and more dancing. I was hoping that things would go as well as the first two dates. I'd especially loved dancing with her. The feelings I got when she pressed her body against me let me know that things were going to be okay. I'd gotten kicked in the teeth by what Melinda had done, but I'd gotten up and kept on living. 

I got into my Mustang and headed for Melanie's house. As I started the engine the stereo came on and almost took the top of my head off. Melissa had driven my car to the store that morning and had one of her CD's playing. The song she'd been listening to was Ozzy Osborne's "I don't want to stop."

I turned the volume down just a touch and then smiled and let it blast. It was a great driving song anyway. As I pulled away from the curb, I noticed that there was another car coming from the opposite direction. I wasn't paying any attention to it though. I drove to Melanie's house listening to Ozzy scream about how he wasn't going to stop.

"All my life I've been over the top, I don't know what I'm doing all I know is I don't wanna stop."

"Yep, you and me Ozzy," I thought. I hadn't noticed it until then, but the car, a brightly colored Honda, had followed me. The car looked like something out of a circus. It was one of those cars that only a teen aged boy who'd watched, "the Fast and the Furious," too many times would drive. The kid was probably following me hoping I'd race him. When I got to Melanie's house, I got out of my car. I'd turned the stereo down because she lived in a nice neighborhood. 

Melanie had on a really nice gray velour dress that molded her curves nicely. She stepped off of her porch and literally ran over to me just as I got out of the car. She hugged me tightly and even kissed me. It was the first time we'd actually kissed.

"I'm so excited about this," she said.

"Oh, come on," I said. "We've been on bigger and probably far nicer boats together."

"Not the boat, Honey," she said. "It's being with you. I missed you. I haven't seen you in two days and after what happened on our last date, I'm still kind of worked up. I think we may have to rethink our policy of not going out very often during the week. Talking to you on the phone is great, but it's not enough."

We both turned as we heard a car door slam behind us. Melinda had gotten out of the clown car Honda and was walking towards us at a fast pace.

"Get your hands off of him," she shrieked. I quickly got between Melanie and Melinda.

"Melanie Fitzgerald, this is my ex-wife, Melinda Harris," I said.

"It's Melinda Conrad," snapped Melinda. "Can I speak to you, Mel?" she asked.

"We have nothing to talk about," I said. "I have lived up to the letter of our divorce agreement. You didn't get an alimony check last week because your alimony ended two months ago. I was nice enough to give you one extra check last month but I'm done. We no longer have a connection of any type. So if you'll excuse us..."

"Mel, we'll always have a connection. We have a daughter together," she said.

"Melissa is a grown woman," I said. "Your relationship with her is none of my business. I can't and won't attempt to influence her one way or another."

"But, Mel, What if I made a mistake?" she asked.

"Then you pick up the pieces and go on living, like I had to," I said. "I made a mistake. I picked the wrong woman to fall in love with. And it came back to hurt me twenty years later. For a while, I didn't think I'd make it. But now my life is great again. You can put your life back together too."

"Mel, we need to talk. There are a lot of things I need to tell you," she said. "And I don't like the idea of you dating someone until we get this straightened out."

"I didn't like the idea of you fucking someone, while we were still married. But that didn't seem to bother you. So, what I do, now that we're divorced, is no concern of yours, Melinda. We have nothing to talk about." I opened the door and helped Melanie into her seat. Then I got into my car and drove away leaving Melinda standing there.

Two weeks later, I was sitting at my desk pondering a weighty problem. I wasn't sure if I was pushing things too fast with Melanie. What we had was great but I wanted more. My door opened and there she was. As I saw her step into the office and head for me with that big beautiful smile, I quickly tried to stuff the papers I'd been looking at under my desk.

That was one of the problems I had. Melanie made me feel so special every time I saw her. It was as if seeing me, just made her day. It was never that way with Melinda. Everything I did for Melinda, she acted as if it was something she deserved. She never appreciated anything. Maybe that was what led to our break up more than anything else. Well, that and her fucking that guy.

"Are you trying to hide your porn from me, Honey?" asked Melanie still smiling. "You know you don't have to. Let me see what it is that interests you so much. Whatever it is, I'll try it for you."

Melanie had this way of just making me melt. So when she reached down and pulled out the papers I was trying to hide, I just let her take them. She looked down at them and what I'd been looking at registered. I'd thought that her smile had been bright before but it went to incandescence.

"Mel, are you looking at these for me...for us?" she asked. I nodded. "You really want to...me?" she asked. I nodded again.

She started crying and threw herself at me. My office chair couldn't handle the impact and it flipped over spilling us both to the floor. The noise brought Joyce running into the office where she found us on the floor hugging each other.

"Uhm, not to interrupt, but you have to see this," smirked Joyce. She pulled both of us through the outer office and into a conference room. We looked out into the lobby at about twenty people who were applying for jobs working for us. Some were office workers or secretaries. Others were interviewing to work in the shop manufacturing my sensor modules.

"Look," said Joyce. She pointed out Greg. "HR flagged him because he claimed to be a friend of yours."

"Well in a way he is," I laughed. "If it hadn't been for him, I'd still be married to Melinda."

"Should they hire him?" she asked. 

"Hell no," I said. "Come on Mel, let's go buy a ring."

* * * * * *

Things all came to a head a short time after I confronted my husband with that woman. I'd barely kept it together when I saw them together. He was still the shy caring man I'd fallen in love with, the one I'd taken for granted. But he seemed to just glow. He was really happy. I could tell just from the loud music he was playing in that damned Mustang of his.

And her body language was scary. She couldn't wait for him to even go to her door. How stupid could she be? Doesn't she know that you can't let a guy think you're too eager to see him? You lose your advantage that way.

Before his car even stopped moving, she came running out of the house and jumped all over him. She was rubbing herself against my husband like a cat in heat. And the dress she wore let me know what she was planning. That dress molded itself to fit every curve in her body. It was pretty much the way she was molding herself to every curve in Melvin's body.

I could tell that she intended to fuck him as soon as she could. I went over to them, determined to break them up. I had to get him away from that woman before it was too late. I'd made the decision that morning to get him back. I was also going to have to get rid of Greg. What did I ever see in him?

I guess I'd just been a stupid, bored woman who thought she deserved better and thought her life was in a rut. I'd thrown out the best part of my life.

After the first time I'd caught Greg cheating on me, I'd let him convince me that it had been my fault for withholding sex from him. That had simply opened the flood gates. Greg now brought home women at least a couple of times a week. He said that we had an open relationship. He reminded me that when we first got together, I was still having sex with Mel. He didn't seem to think the fact that I'd been married to Mel made a difference.

The sex I had with Greg had simply become a chore. I guess it had only been the excitement of having someone new that made it anything special to begin with. The final straw came when last night after he finished with me. I noticed that one of his friends had been watching us. Greg wasn't embarrassed or shocked and he didn't even try to cover me up.

"You want a turn with her?" he asked. Before the man could answer I got up and got dressed. I left my apartment and drove to my parents' house. It took a while but I convinced them to let me in. I told them the whole story and they let me stay there for the night. While I was there, I noticed that there were new pictures in the grouping on the mantle.

"Those were taken on Thanksgiving," my mother told me as I looked at them. One of the pictures took an axe to my heart. It was a picture of everyone who'd been at my parent's house for Thanksgiving dinner. At the center of the group of friends and family there was a sub grouping. Between my parents were Mel and that woman. They had my daughter Melissa between them. They were both hugging Melissa and the three of them were cheek to cheek to cheek; Mel, Mel and Mel together again.

They were all smiling and obviously having a good time. It was exactly like a picture the three of us had taken back when our family was together. It looked like my husband and daughter had simply gone out and replaced me without so much as a thought. Even my own parents had preferred their company to mine.

Tears rolled down my cheeks as I looked at the picture. Everything in me said to throw that fucking picture against the wall or into the fire. It took more strength than I ever thought I had, to simply place the picture back on the mantle. I took great pains to make sure I'd placed it back in the exact same position if not in the same spot.

"What did you expect?" asked my dad from behind me. "I guess you thought they'd wait for you forever huh?"

"Daddy, you didn't even invite me for Thanksgiving but you invited her," I cried.

"Honey, your boyfriend pretty much fucked up our anniversary party. You made it very clear that he was the man you wanted to be with, despite what everyone told you. You even gave up your own child to be with that...that...I can't call him a man, because as old as he is, he acts like a spoiled kid. And that's the way you acted." My dad sat down on the couch.

"My granddaughter told you that she wouldn't come back into your house until you got rid of him. That was your own child. You let her walk out of that house. That sent a clear message to everyone, that you thought being with him was more important than her or us too for that matter. Melvin tried to avoid running into you, he let you have what you wanted. You can't fault him for trying to find someone that he could be happy with."

"As far as Thanksgiving goes, we told you at the anniversary that you couldn't bring that bastard you were with back into our house. And you're still with him. We invited Mel to come for Thanksgiving because whether he's married to you or not, he's a part of our family. He may not be your husband any more but he's still our son because he's my granddaughter's father. And the woman he brought with him? He asked our permission first, unlike the way you just showed up with your second asshole." 

"Melanie is a great lady. I like her a lot. And if Melvin couldn't get back with you, she's exactly what I'd want for him, and for my granddaughter. She's polite, courteous, and helpful. She's welcome in this house anytime she comes. She's not you Melinda. She's not my daughter. But Melvin has a right to be happy too. So we should be glad if he's found it."

"But Daddy, I want him back," I screamed. He just shook his head.

"Melinda, from the way the three of them got along and the things they talked about, it may already be too late for that. Even if Melvin doesn't end up marrying her, he still might not want to get back with you. You hurt him pretty bad. Why would he want to put himself in that position again? And what about Melissa, you picked your fuck toy over your daughter. Is there any wonder why she doesn't answer your calls?"




EGBDF



"From listening to them talk, I got the idea that it was Melissa that pushed the two of them together. Maybe she wasn't just looking for someone for Melvin. Maybe she was looking for someone to take your place in her life too. Life is too short to be miserable all the time, Melinda. You had a great life. You had a great family. You didn't appreciate what you had so someone else came along and picked them up from where you'd thrown them away."

As I listened to him I realized that he was right.

The next day, I went back to my little apartment and started to clean it. When Greg woke up I told him that he and all of his friends needed to go. As I cleaned up, I found several past due notices and an eviction notice for the apartment. I hadn't known that any of them had come. I'd given Greg access to the bank account so he could pay the bills. He hadn't paid any of them and the money was all gone.

He'd tried to get a job last week and had been turned down flat. He'd told me that the company he wanted to work for turned out to be owned by Melvin. My husband over the course of a year had become more successful than I'd ever thought he'd be, unfortunately he didn't want to have anything to do with me.

I'd gone down to fill out an application to work for them yesterday myself. I sat down in a large room and filled out a form with a lot of other people. As they began calling names, I had a good feeling about my chances. A lot of the people I'd been sitting with, who had no skills at all had come back smiling and telling us they'd gotten a job.

As I waited to be called, I got that feeling that comes when someone is staring at you. I turned to my left and looked through a big pane of glass. My daughter was in a hallway outside of the room. She pointed at me while she spoke to another woman. The woman nodded her head several times and came into the room I was sitting in. She spoke to the people directing the interviews and they shuffled their papers. The man at the desk called me immediately. My number wasn't even the one that was next and they'd called me by name.

I went into the interview room and sat down in front of a table. There were three people behind it. Two of them were women. I felt even better about my chances. I was sure that my daughter had moved me up in the line. And who knew what could happen with us all working together. Maybe I'd get my family back after all.

"You don't have any job history," said one of the women behind the desk. She wasn't asking me a question she was just stating what she'd seen on my resume.

"Well in a way I do," I said. "I've been married for over twenty years to the man you all work for."

"Mr. Conrad doesn't believe in nepotism," said the man. Both of the women shook their heads.

"You have no skills, either," said the other woman. "It says down here that you have a college degree. Which school did you get your degree from and what was it in?"

"Uhm, Melvin and I met in college," I said. "I got my degree from the same college he did, but it wasn't in the same thing. I do remember that. Melvin probably remembers."

"Thank you so much for coming in this morning," said the first woman again. She stood up and held out her hand for me to shake.

"Did I get the job?" I asked. "When do I start? What will I be doing? Am I going to work with my husband and daughter?"

"We have a lot more people to interview before we make a final decision on any position," said the man. "Someone will contact you either way." He stood up and held out his hand too. I got the feeling that what they were saying was all bullshit. What they really meant was, "Don't call us, we'll call you."

As I left the room, I realized that I was the first person they hadn't hired. I turned and saw Melissa speaking to the people who'd just interviewed me. She nodded her head and without even glancing at me, went back down the hall the other way. My own daughter had just torpedoed my chance to get a job.

I had only one other recourse. I needed a place to live and money for food. I'd be too embarrassed to go back and live with my parents. I had to apply for public assistance. After all the years that Mel and I had paid taxes they owed it to me anyway. 

"Melinda Conrad," hearing my name called jarred me out of my thoughts. I walked into the office while a woman looked over the forms I filled out. 

"How much will I get?" I asked.

"Mrs. Conrad how much income did you have last year. Did you get any amounts of cash or settlements over the last twelve months? Your finances aren't very well described here. What assets do you have? Are you responsible for any children? It says here that you recently divorced. Did you get any kind of alimony or cash settlement for that?"

"Well I did have alimony for 6 months and I got $80,000 for the sale of my house plus 40% of our checking and savings accounts," I said.

The woman looked up at me. "Are you joking?" she asked.

"No," I said.

"You blew through over 80 grand in less than a year and you're expecting...Get out of my office."

* * * * * * 

My daughter Melinda came into the office just as I was going over to Melanie's office for her last day of work. Melanie wanted to finish out the month so she wouldn't leave her boss shorthanded but we'd both decided that there was no need for her to work. If she just wanted something to do to keep busy, there were plenty of things she could do around here. 

Besides, Melanie is only 36 and I'm only 41. Maybe we can work on getting Melissa a baby brother or sister.

"Hi Honey," I said as I picked up my jacket. "Are you coming to Melanie's going away party?"

"Yeah Dad, wouldn't miss it," she said. "I just wanted to show you this." She handed me an application that had been stamped "rejected."

"You didn't," I laughed.

"I did," she laughed back. I just kissed her on the cheek and shook my head as I headed for my new wife's party. I loved my life again. It was all the way it was supposed to be. I no longer had any anger or hurt left towards my ex. I suppose my daughter did though. Rejection can be hard to deal with.

To tell the truth, I would have loved to have hired Melinda and kept her close to where we worked. Just so she could regularly see us and see what she'd thrown away. They say that the best revenge is a life lived well. I'd have loved for Melinda to see how we lived. That would be like rubbing it in her face every time she looked at us. I hadn't gone out to get any revenge or done anything to Melinda. I'd just let Karma handle her. I concentrated on being a good boy and making myself happy.

As I stepped outside of the door, I got confused for a second trying to find my car. There were two nearly identical Mustangs parked side by side up close to the building in the parking spots reserved for management. It took me a second to figure out which one was mine. It was even worse at home since Melanie now drove the exact same car too. 

Then in a flash I realized which one was mine. It was easy to tell actually. Mine was the one with the license plate that read "EGBDF."