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Lord, What Fools... Ch. 01

By: Blue88



(Sigh) I guess that I had better get to it. My mind is a mess of jumbled emotions . My problem, you see, is my marriage. You notice I did not say my wife, I'm not so foolish to place all of the blame for our unhappiness on her. I'm sure that I share at least part of that blame, although her reaction to our unhappiness was extreme, to say the least.

Ok, from the beginning. My name is Paul Rieger. I'm 49, yeah, I'll be 50 in a few months. I know it's silly, but it is kind of scary. Damn, half a century. My wife is Emily and she just turned 46, but you would never know it. She is almost fanatic about keeping fit. She is at the fitness center of our club every morning. Aerobics, weight training, all of that crap. Anyway, I have to admit, she does look great. If I told you that she was 36, you wouldn't have any trouble believing it.

As for me, I just don't appreciate the scene at the club. It's not that I'm a couch potato, I make sure that I do my run every morning before my shower, so I am fit, I don't carry around more than a few extra pounds and on my 6' frame it's not at all noticeable.

I first met Emily at a company Christmas party. I had just started working there in sales. I had graduated from college with a major in marketing and I felt lucky that I had landed a job with a great company. I was new and I was stag at the party. It wasn't long before I began to notice this girl, mainly because the schmuck she was with was getting drunker than a skunk and she was standing there burning. Damn, she looked gorgeous, tall, about 5'7', honey blonde hair, brown eyes, and built like......I dunno, like a girl should be built.

By the end of the evening, her date was passed out on a sofa and I had spent the better part of the party talking to and dancing with Emily. We seemed to click. It wasn't long before I felt that I had known her forever and I knew that I wanted to see her again.

Oh, yes. Her name at the time was Emily Kramer, you know, like in Seinfeld. We used to laugh at that. She was a nurse and had just started work at the local hospital. I drove her home that night, asked her for her number, and called her. We dated and, I think it was on the third or fouth date, we came back to her apartment and almost fell into each others arms. Jeez, she was as hot for me as I was for her.

Before I knew what was happening, her jeans and top were on the floor and I was holding this gorgeous, almost naked blond in my arms on the sofa. She was still in her bra and panties and the sight of her black underwear almost made me lose it. For some reason I get excited by black panties and bra, go figure. Then, without a word, she stood and took me by the hand and led me to her bedroom.

She stood by the bed and did a strip tease, I know, I know, she didn't have much to strip, but the way she removed that black bra and those black panties made me salivate. I don't think she was naked more than three seconds before I had stripped and tackled her to the bed. Yeah,I know - not very romantic, but, jeez, was I in lust with this lovely creature at that moment. 

That first time in bed was pure fucking. No romance, no foreplay, I just stuck my cock into her pussy and it slid right in, she was as wet as a swamp. We just pounded each other. She had her first orgasm about ten seconds later and continued with a few more until I lost control and came. We just lay there, holding each other and not too much later we started again, only this time we made love.

It wasn't long before I realized that the lust was love. One thing led to another and I proposed to her a couple of months later.

The kids came along quickly, one after the other. We have two, Amy and Rachel, two girls who are the sweetest, smartest, prettiest heartbreakers in the world. I think you get the idea that I'm nuts about them. They're both in college and interning at the same company. Unfortunately, their school is on the other coast, so it's difficult for them to get home often. We do fly out to visit them as often as we can. 

So, Emily and I have been married now for over 20 years. The first years were a little tough, money wasn't a major problem, but we didn't really have enough to throw around. We tried to be frugal, we wanted to save for a down payment on a house. I guess that's the dream of every young couple. Living in an apartment, especially with two young children, is not exactly a dream come true.

Anyway, I had been doing well in my job, had gotten a promotion, so with the money we had put aside, we were able to afford a nice Cape Cod style house, You know, two bedrooms and a bath upstairs, two bedrooms and a bath downstairs. It was nice and we loved it. Emily also enjoyed being a stay at home Mom which was fine with me. I'm kind of old fashioned, I liked the fact that the girls had their mother at home.

I can't even begin to tell you how happy we were. I was working really hard, trying to be successful and Emily had her hands full raising the girls and taking care of the house. But with all of that, we were happy as pigs in slop. The kids were great, my wife was gorgeous, my job was good - what more could I ask for?

So, the years flew by. I became more and more wrapped up in my career. About five years ago I was appointed national sales manager. Our income really shot up and we moved up into a new, larger house in a country club development. With that came increased responsibility. I also had to travel a bit more. No, no, don't get the wrong idea. I wasn't gone all of the time. I had to make trips perhaps three or four days out of the month; it really was no big deal, and Emily never made a fuss about that. She realized that in order for us to live as well as we did, I had to make the occasional trip. She never gave me any grief about that.

My life was about perfect. I loved my kids and they loved me. I loved my wife and she loved me. Shit, it was like a TV sit-com. We were all like Ozzie and Harriet, if you remember that show. Then, I guess it started about, ..... ahhh, maybe about a year ago, perhaps a little less, things at home started going downhill. 

It was about the time both girls were away at college. It was really very gradual. So gradual that I didn't even notice it at the time. You know, a snippy remark, an impatient reply, an occasional lack of response in bed. Not all of the time, and not terribly frequent, but enough, now that I think about it, to cause a tiny bit of tension at home.

It was also about that time that I got involved in a weekly poker game. A few of the executives at work decided that it would be fun to play Texas Hold Em once a week at a local bistro. Sam Meecham, the head of marketing, knew the owner of this place and he arranged it so that we could use the back room for our poker game. The owner would benefit, we would be buying drinks and food while we played, so it looked like everyone would be happy. So the weekly game consisted of six of us from work. Sometimes Tim Shukay, from accounting, would show up. He was the only single guy, so he was more interested in chasing pussy than poker. The stakes were not really high and no one would get hurt financially. 

I didn't think that Emily minded. She knew that this would relieve some of the stress that my job generated. I just wonder if she really did mind, but didn't say anything. Who knows. 

Emily always had a tendency to keep her thoughts to herself, and if she did get upset, it was always difficult for anyone to get her to talk about it. I still believe that a major part of our problem was Emily's inability to face and discuss things that bothered her. She would just sublimate them and stew over them.

I tried to talk to Emily about how things seem to bother her. I tried to tell her to just get her feelings out, put it all on the table. I remember one conversation........

"Em, put the book down, I'd really like to talk."

I remember Emily looking up at me, a look of consternation on her face. Remember, when things seem to turn emotional she retreated. By emotional, I mean things that were upsetting to her, and the more upsetting, the further she would retreat.

"Talk about what, Paul? What's the problem?"

"We seem to be drifting apart, Em. We snap at each other, we don't seem to have conversations anymore. We're getting to be like strangers who live in the same house." I complained.

Emily became impatient and it showed. "Paul, stop being ridiculous, We're old married people, not newlyweds. There's nothing wrong with our relationship, as long as we remember our wedding vows."

See, it's statements like that that drove me nuts. 

"What, what about our wedding vows? What's that got to do with what I'm talking about?" My voice went up an octave.

"Enough Paul, I don't want to discuss this nonsense," she snapped as she retreated within herself and returned to her book, but not before I noticed that her eyes had filled with tears.

See what I mean? Emily, despite her inate intelligence and common sense, always backed away from anything that might be emotionally disturbing. It isn't as if she just refused to acknowledge that there may be a problem, it's just that she refused to face it and get it thrashed out. But she would internalize it and let it become like a figurative festering sore.

I sighed , rose and went outside for a breath of air..

It seems that as the months went by, that tiny bit of tension at home got worse. We each tried to get on an even keel, but for some reason, never could. Any discussion about our relationship always seemed to end up in a fight. 

After awhile, we were both afraid to bring the subject up; so it festered and got worse. Jeez, as I think about it, it really sounds stupid. How could a marriage as happy and loving as ours founder because of a lack of communication? The problem was that we were communicating too much and our communication consisted of terrible arguments. And yes, I certainly didn't help the situation; I would get so pissed that I also ended up contributing to the argument.

Many nights I would awake to hear Emily as she cried quietly into her pillow. I wanted to reach out to her, but was afraid to. Who knew how she would react if I touched her.

Anyway, about a few months ago or so, Emily really started to get involved with a women's literature group that some of the gals at the country club had formed. They were appalled, just appalled at the required reading list at our local high school. They were going to provide "input" as to what should be added to that list. They were also going to read the "classics" and discuss them amongst themselves. Wonderful.

You know, now that I think about it, I encouraged her to participate and I realize now why I was so enthusiastic about her getting involved. It would mean she would be out of the house one evening a week. I wouldn't have to worry about starting a fight, or listening to her smart mouth. Also, once a week I would be out of the house at my poker game. Great, two evenings a week would be peaceful for me. Then, a couple of weeks later the group decided that one evening was not enough for these important deliberations. They would meet twice a week, Yippee, three night a week of peace. Damn, what kind of marriage is that? 

Ok, this is when the fucking ceiling fell in on me. It was just one incident, but I didn't know what to do, or better yet, I was afraid to do anything. It happened on a Thursday - Emily was dressing to go to the club for that women's thing. I just happened to pass by the bedroom and saw her in her undies. Ok, big deal, I peeked. Don't forget, she still looks gorgeous. She was wearing a black bra and black bikini panties. Yum, delicious.

Oh, yeah. I had better interject something here about our sex life. Ha, I ask, what sex life? We had always been very active sexually. You name it, we did it (well, almost). Sex used to be frequent and varied. Shit, until our problems started, we used to screw a lot. Oh, not like when we were young, but still we got together at least two to three times a week, and it was always great. Emily's sexual appetite was as strong as mine and we used to indulge ourselves, but as our personal problems intensified, our sexual encounters decreased until, now, the only pussy I would get would be if I put hair around my fingers. Yeah, in other words it's a lot less stress to jack-off. It had gotten to the point that I didn't even want to try to approach her.

Now back to the black undies incident. I peeked, saw her in her black panties and bra and felt a woodie start. Nope, that wasn't going to do me a bit of good, so I just proceeded past and made believe that I saw nothing. I did wonder why the black underwear for a women's literature meeting, but put it out of my mind. Who the hell knows why women do what they do anyway? 

She took off about 7 and I made myself comfortable in front of the TV. I hit the sack before 11, wanting to be in bed and pretend sleep before she came home. I awoke to the sound of Emily entering the house and saw that it was after 1 a.m. but fell asleep again and didn't wake until the following morning.

I want to say right off that I'm not like the typical husband that does squat around the house. Even though I work hard in my job I help when I can. We don't depend on full time help in terms of cleaning, etc. We do have a crew that comes in once a week, but the rest of the time Emily takes care of things, and I pitch in where I can. One of the things that I do is the laundry. Not on a all of the time basis, but when I see the hamper start to get full I will, sometimes, throw a wash in.

Ok, the next day, Friday, I happened to take the afternoon off. I was just pissed at a sales team half way across the country, and had just finished chewing the lead honcho out about their performance the last quarter. I was in a foul mood and decided to take off. I just wanted to chill out around my pool for the afternoon. I pulled in my driveway and went into the house. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw that Emily wasn't home. You see what state our marriage had fallen into? 

I entered the bedroom and quickly divested myself of my suit and shirt, putting on a swim suit. Seeing that the hamper was full, I thought I'd be a nice guy and throw the dark stuff into the washer, so getting the laundry basket I started to sort through the laundry. I saw Emily's bra, but couldn't find the panties. I stood back puzzled, I saw her in the bra and panties last night, so they should be in the hamper. The bra was there, but no panties. You see where my thoughts were going? Where the fuck were her panties??

You know that old cliche "my knees turned to water?" It may be a cliche, but damn, that's exactly what happened to me. I found that I couldn't stand. I had to sit down on the toilet seat. Could Emily actually be cheating?? What explanation could there be for her to come home without her panties? I was shocked at how hurt and devastated I felt. 

I felt my eyes fill with tears, I just couldn't believe that she would do that to us. Despite all of the problems we were having, the thought of cheating on Emily never entered my head. You just don't cheat on someone you love. Yes, I still loved her, in fact, was still crazy about her. So if she could do that to me, she obviously did not love me anymore, and that thought just about destroyed me.

What other explanation could there be? She goes out with panties and comes home without them. Then I also suddenly remembered that she had come home that night after 1 a.m. That scenario doesn't leave a lot of room for many explanations. I felt sick to my stomach, but I knew that, despite my fears, there could be an innocent reason for her panties being missing. Shit, she could have peed herself and just tossed them. Thinking about that made perfect sense to me, at least it made me feel a little better. I ignored the fact that she came home so late.

I put the laundry back in the hamper and tried to put the whole incident to the back of my mind. Actually, I was too much of a coward to explore it, I just didn't want to know. The rest of the day was uneventful and Emily and I managed to get through an evening without any vitriol.

If this incident caused the ceiling to come crashing down, the next one changed my life dramatically. The next day, a Saturday, I went into the office for about an hour to clean up some loose ends. Heading home, I stopped at the market for a couple of six packs and ran into Helen Berg. She comes gushing up to me and asks how Emily is feeling. I didn't know what to say, so I just told her that she was fine. She then lets me know that they were concerned because no sooner had the meeting begun on Thursday that Emily stated that she really didn't feel well and had to leave. They all hoped that she was ok.

I put the beer down and walked out to my car. I sat and just stared ahead sightlessly. My worst fears were confirmed, there was no doubt in my mind. Emily was cheating on me. My thoughts were chaotic, why?? how long?? did she hate me that much?? As I look back at that moment, what struck me was my lack of anger. I was just so hurt, so devastated, so overwhelmed with sorrow that there just wasn't room for anger at that exact moment.

I really believe that I became a different person during those moments in the car. My emotions started to shift; oh, the sorrow and sadness still pervaded my soul, but anger and bitterness started to creep in. The concept of cheating, the betrayal of one's spouse was so out of my ken that I couldn't encompass it. I knew that I could never do that to Emily and the fact that she could said volumes to me. I knew then that my marriage was over.

The next few days were strained, more so than usual. We wound up not even trying to communicate. The only words we uttered to each other was those that were absolutely necessary. I was relieved as hell when Monday rolled around and I went to work. 

The next day was no different, except that when I came home I was reminded that the women's group was meeting that night and she might be home late. Yeah, late, I bet late. I had a plan, admittedly stupid, but a plan. I wanted hard evidence. I had hidden a voice activated tape recorder in her car. I know, I know, there were huge holes in the plan, but I'm no Sherlock Holmes. There was an outside chance I'd get something. 

Guess what, zilch. All I got was some road noise; she didn't even turn the radio on. Shit. Funny though, she got home around 11, her usual time.

Ok, I finally wised up, I kinew what I had to do. I needed professional help. Wednesday morning saw me looking through the Yellow Pages. My finger stopped on AAA Investigative Services. Jeez, my heart was beating a mile a minute as I took up the phone. My call was answered on the second ring:

"Hello, Triple A Services, June Meyers."

"Uhhhh, can I speak with an investigator?" I mumbled.

"You are, sir. May I suggest that you come in and speak with me in person. I assure you that it would be easier."

Damn, she immediately picked up that I was nervous as hell and worked to set me at ease. She was right, it would be easier to sit down and speak with someone. The damn phone was too impersonal.

"Can I come in now?" I asked.

"Of course, I'm free now. May I have your name?"

I gave her my name and left the office, notifying my secretary that I would be out for a couple of hours.

I was soon seated before a very attractive woman who appeared to be in her early 50s. I explained my problem and she asked a few pertinent questions. She then asked to see a picture of Emily and took notes concerning Emily's schedule. I told her that the night in question was Thursday and would she be able to carry out a surveillance. I was assured that would be no problem, so after taking care of the fees, etc. I left it in her hands.


Lord, What Fools... Ch. 01



The next couple of days were absolute murder. I, to this day, don't know how I got through them. It took every bit of my self control not to throw up at the dinner table, dining with Emily. I saw her in a totally different light - I saw her as an adulteress. My only salvation was my work. We were busy as hell and that kept my mind occupied. 

Friday, late afternoon, my secretary buzzed me to tell me that a June Meyers was on the phone. With my heart in my throat, I told her to put her through.

"Mr. Rieger, this is June Meyers. We have finished compiling the report you asked for and it is ready to be picked up ."

Very circumspect, no one listening would be able to infer anything by this call.

"Tomorrow is Saturday, Ms Meyers. Can I pick up the report tomorrow morning?" I asked. I don't know why, but I just didn't want to see it until the next day. 

"I'll be here at nine. I'll have the report for you as well as an oral explanation of our investigation, Mr. Rieger. 

I thanked her and slowly lowered the phone. I found that I was trembling and I suddenly wondered if I even wanted to see that report. I wondered if I wanted to confront the ugly truth that may be awaiting me. I think that that night was truly the longest night of my life. I slept not one wink and I got out of bed while it was still dark. I quietly took care of washing, etc., dressed and made my way downstairs.

I made a pot of coffee, filled a mug and just sat in the kitchen with the mug of coffee in my hands. Did I drink it? Hell, I don't know. I do know that I just sat and stared - at nothing. Suddenly I noticed that it was light outside so I picked myself up and drove downtown. I waited in my car until their office opened.

June Meyers saw me enter and led me to a private office. She gazed at me with troubled eyes and I knew. I sighed and sat and waited.

"Mr. Rieger, we followed your wife from your home on Thursday evening. She did not drive to the country club. After tailing her in our van, we saw that she was headed for a northern suburb and it wasn't long before she pulled into the road leading to a Holiday Inn there. My associate, Bill Palmer, quickly donned a maintenance shirt with a Holiday Inn patch sewn into the pocket. We keep a range of hotel shirts of this type in the van.

"Bill was ready with his 'repair' satchel and we watched as she entered Room 113. Exactly ten seconds later, Bill knocked on the door, stating that he was from maintenance. He was admitted when he stated that there was a problem with the smoke alarm. He found a man in the room, but no sign of your wife. The bathroom door was closed so it was obvious that she was in there.

"Bill had a small step stool with him and he proceeded to 'repair' the smoke alarm. He, in fact, inserted a tiny camera and timer in the housing. It was set to take a photo every five minutes for the next hour. He replaced the housing, thanked the man in the room, and left. The room was vacated in approximately an hour and Bill entered the empty room and retrieved the camera. We also have the name of the man who was in the room. 

I vaguely remember sitting there, listening to her. I knew that she was talking, I could see her lips move. I know that I had tuned her out right after being informed of Emily entering the hotel room. Suddenly, A glass of cold water was pushed into my hand. I was told to drink, which I did. It seemed to revive me a bit.

"Mr. Rieger, let's take a short break. I can imagine how upset you are. Sip the water, it will help." 

So I sipped, and sipped and then sipped some more. I didnt want to leave. I never wanted to leave. I just wanted to sit there, for maybe the next ten or twenty years.

"Mr. Rieger, this envelope contained a full written report which gives details of the oral report you have just received. It also contains photographs, which I have to tell you, are very graphic. Do not open this until you are sure that you are alone.

"Mr. Rieger, do you understand? Are you sure that you're ok?" queried June Meyers.

I finally snapped out of my funk and accepted the envelope. I made the appropriate noises and got out of their as soon as I could. I could see June Meyers' reflection in the window. She was just sitting and shaking her head. 

It was still early. I drove over to my office, no one would be there. I entered and sat at my desk and looked at the envelope. I opened it and the photographs slipped out. There were about ten or twelve of them.

The first one showed Emily, naked and in bed with a naked man. I recognized him; he was a member of the club. I remembered he was also a fitness nut. He was a good eight or ten years older than I, but in good physical condition. He was sucking on Emily's right breast. 

The second photo showed the same thing, but from a different angle, they had moved a bit in the bed. I guess he liked Emily's breasts, he was now nibbling on the left one.

The next photo had his head between her thighs, his mouth open, his tongue between the lips of her pussy. She seemed wet, either from her arousal or his saliva, I couldn't tell.

The next photos showed him fucking her, but only in the standard missionary position. I thought, "not a very imaginative lover." I glanced at Emily's face. Her eyes were closed and there was no expression that I could interpret. I finally dropped the photos and picked up the report. Leafing through it, I saw that it told the same story that June Meyers had given me, but in greater detail.

I sat for awhile, and then arose, picked up the report and photographs and moved to the shredder. I methodically put the report, page by page, through the shredder. The photographs soon followed. Why did I do that? Damned if I know. I knew that I wasn't going to use them in court. I knew that I wasn't going to look at the report or the photographs again. Maybe I thought that by destroying the evidence, I could make believe I had never seen it in the first place. Make believe that Emily's adultery never happened. Guess what? it didn't work.

I drove home. The house was empty. Emily was at the club, working out. She would not be home until after lunch, well after lunch. I grabbed the suitcases and the long bar that fit over those hooks at the back seat of the car. I would hang all of my suits and sport jackets on that. I then methodically packed as much of my stuff as I could and put the bags near the front door. I took all of my suits, sport jackets, slacks etc. out to the car and hung them in the car. Next I took all of my stuff from the bathroom and threw it all in a plastic bag. I would sort through it later.

I looked around, the house seemed strange to me; it was almost as if I had never lived here. I was now facing an uncertain future - no wife, no home. 

I felt the tears start and I thought to myself, "I am fucked, I am truly fucked."

I packed up my laptop and as much of my personal papers that I could and tossed it all in a box which I put in the trunk of my car. I returned to the house and sat in what used to be my chair in the living room and waited. It was now well after lunch, she should be home soon.

About a half hour passed and I just sat. I tried to think, but was unsuccessful. I couldn't put my thoughts in order. I did know that I had to find a place to live. A hotel, I guessed, at least for a short time. I would then look for an apartment. Then I started to think about furnishing it. What kind of living room furniture should I buy? Hmmm, should I get a queen or king bed? How about a small dinette set for the kitchen? You see what I mean? I'm sitting there mulling over totally inane crap. My mind just totally refused to think about my impending separation. (I couldn't even think of the word - divorce.)

The door opened and in strode Emily. She saw me sitting there and I guess I didn't look like the happiest person in the world. She just stood there, staring at me. She didn't even notice my bags sitting near the door.

"How long have you been fucking him?" I calmly asked.

Her face reddened and her lips compressed as she continued to stare at me.

"Drop dead" she snapped and proceeded to walk into the bedroom. I rose and picked up my suitcases.

"Wait," Emily shouted. "I guess she noticed that most of my clothes were gone from the room. 

"What are you doing? Where are you going?" she asked in a thin voice.

I turned to her and said "drop dead," as I walked out of the door. 



Lord, What Fools... Ch. 02



I drove to the airport Hilton; I didn't know where else to go and I knew that I needed someplace to park myself, at least for a few days.

I left most of my stuff in the car, checked in and collapsed on the bed in the room. I felt so fucking tense, I thought I was going to have a stroke. Thank goodness no one was taking my blood pressure at that moment, they would have called 911 pronto.  

"Gene McNally" I suddenly thought to myself. Gene owned a successful real estate office in town and I knew him fairly well from the club. Yeah, he belonged to the same club since he lived in our development.

I moved over to the phone, checked with information, and hoped that he would be in on a Saturday. Luck was with me, the person who answered the phone told me that he was in and transferred the call.

"Gene, this is Paul Rieger, you busy right now?" I began.

"Hey Paul, good to hear from you. How have you been?"

"Look Gene, it looks like I'm going to need a place to move to. One bedroom, two bedroom, I really don't care, but I would like to have it fairly close to work. Can you help?"

There was silence on the phone for a moment. "Shit, Paul. I can't tell you how sorry I am." It didn't take Gene long to figure out where I was coming from.

"Yeah, Gene. Shit happens. Can you help me?" I asked again.

"Paul, is this, maybe, for just a few days or weeks? If so I can probably find something for you, or you can just use a place like Extended Stay or Residence Inn."

"Gene," I explained calmly. "I need a more permanent place. Do you understand?"

"Shit. Yeah, I understand. Give me your number, I'll get back to you in an hour or so. Stay there, I have something in mind that may be for you."

True to his word, Gene called back in an hour.

"Paul, I have something in which you might be interested, but...."

"Ok, Gene, what's the but.....?"

"You would have to sign a yearly lease, but I think it's worth looking at. The kicker is, of course, that yearly lease. Are you sure you want to see it?"

"This afternoon ok, Gene?" I asked calmly. Sweat had broken out on my forehead.

"I'll pick you up in an hour, Paul," replied Gene.

We drove to an impressive high rise apartment building within walking distance to my office. We rode the elevator is silence. Gene just didn't know what to say to me and I didn't really want any conversation.

He unlocked the door to a unit on the 23rd floor and we entered. Shit, , the place was amazing, like something out of a design magazine. Gene showed me around to two bedrooms, two marble and glass bathrooms, a private wraparound balcony, you get the idea. To top it off, the place was completely furnished, down to a complete kitchen and towels and linens. It seems that the owner was living in Europe and wanted the place leased for a year. He would decide later if the lease was renewable. I didn't ask how much. I just turned to Gene and told him to draw up the lease papers. This place would do me fine. I think you get the idea that I'm far from poor. I didn't care what the place ran, I could afford it.

I was in my new digs by Monday morning and unpacked and settled in by Monday afternoon. Oh, yes - my cell phone had been a little busy on Sunday. Emily had called three times. I didn't answer. The fourth call I answered. 

I didn't let her speak, I attacked. "Are you still fucking him"?

I knew who "him" was but I really didn't give a shit. The very fact that she was unfaithful was enough. I didn't want details, I didn't want to know how it began, I sure as hell didn't want a blow by blow description of how they fucked. My stomach heaved at the thought.

There was silence on the phone. I hung up before she could reply. She didn't call again.

The next few days were busy at the office, thank goodness. It didn't give me a lot of time to think. What the fuck was there to think about anyway. Like, how is Emily doing? Is she ok? Is she still seeing and fucking her boyfriend?

On Friday afternoon I called Terry Oldham, my lawyer. Terry is one of my oldest friends. We both started at my firm at about the same time, he in the legal department, and we became buddies for some reason. You couldn't meet a nicer guy. Emily and I had become close with Terry and his wife Julie. He left the company about ten years ago and had opened his own practice.

I told him to start divorce proceedings. There was dead silence on the phone. I was getting kind of used to that.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he grated. "Get your ass over here now. I'm clearing the rest of the day."

Half an hour later I was seated in front of Terry's desk. He got up and motioned me to the couch in his office. He moved to the bar and mixed us both a couple of drinks. 

Looking over to me, he muttered, "I think we're both going to need some Dutch courage." Seating himself, he stared at me and said, "Ok, begin at the beginning, don't leave anything out." 

I took a large swallow of the scotch. "Emily has been cheating. I confronted her and she told me to drop dead. You want to know anything else?" I added a bit sarcastically. 

"Knock it off, Paul. Don't be a wise ass, I've known you too long. Why don't you start from the beginning. Whatever triggered this off didn't start now. Give me some background."

I sighed, I was getting good at that. So I went back and told Terry how things had deteriorated in my house. We couldn't seem to get along anymore. It was difficult for Emily to even talk without some smart aleck remark. I would also often snap at her for nothing. We were both at our wits end. Then I discovered that she had been cheating. I told him that I didn't know how long it's been going on.

"Paul, do you know, or are you guessing? If you're just guessing you could be making a huge mistake," 

"Terry, I know, ok? I know. There is no doubt. Look, the reason I came to you is that I anticipate no problem with this divorce. Emily will be taken care of very nicely. She won't have any money worries. She can maintain her lifestyle and she will be able to fuck anyone she wants without worrying about me." I said bitterly.

Terry just looked at me and shook his head sadly. "Paul, at the very least, let me talk to Emily. No, don't get your balls in an uproar, all I want to do is talk to her. If I'm going to represent you, I'll have to speak with her anyway."

I just shrugged, rose, shook his hand and left.

Three days later Terry called and asked me to stop drop over to his office when I finished for the day. I told him that I would and didn't ask any questions.

He had an solemn look on his face. "I spoke with Emily, Paul. She didn't seem surprised and she told me that she would go along with anything you wanted in terms of a final settlement. I tried to get her to discuss your problems, but she was tight lipped. She refused to engage in any discussion." 

"Doesn't surprise me one bit. File the necessary papers, Terry. I want this over with as soon as possible."

Terry nodded, looked at me searchingly, and then asked, "Do you still love her, Paul?

The question threw me and I sat silently for a moment. I really hadn't given that any thought recently. 

"I truly don't know, Terry. I am so fucked up emotionally that I don't know how I feel. No, strike that. I know that I feel hurt, humiliated, betrayed - you know, all the things that a husband feels when he finds his wife has been unfaithful. But it's not only that, although "that" is bad enough.

"It's gotten to the point that we just can't seem to get along. Living with her was really getting to me. The tension, the stress, the gulf that had opened between us - it was just too much. Do I love her? Yeah, I guess I do - it's just that I can't live with her. 

***************

So that's how it all ended and I still don't really know why. How could two people, so happy and so in love with each other, suddenly find themselves in this kind of situation? 

Telling my daughters almost tore me apart. They had already spoken with their mother and were terribly anxious to fly home and speak with us in person. Emily, it seems, had emphasized that that would not be a good idea. I told them the same thing and promised that we would get together soon. I finally placated them and told them that I would be in touch with them as frequently as before. They hadn't lost their father.

I spent the next few months totally immersed in my work. I became obsessed with my job, to the exclusion of anything else. Sales increased dramatically and I was the golden boy of the company. I was also making a ton of money that I really had no use for. What was I going to spend it on, a bigger headstone?

The divorce became final a couple of months later and life moved on. Approximately six months after the final decree I decided that I would take a few months and visit every sales team we had in the country. The CEO knew why I suggested this and he didn't put up any objections. He knew it would help me emotionally and he also knew that it would probably be very good for the bottom line.

The next two or three months were spent on the road. I would return every few weeks to check in, and then be off again. It also gave me the opportunity to see my daughters and reassure them that I was ok and that things would work out. Yeah, work out for Emily and I, but apart. 

I really think that my job saved my sanity. I may hate to admit it, but I missed Emily, I missed her terribly. Even with the bickering and the tension, I realized that I still loved her. But that wasn't going to allow me to get past her adultery, that I could not, just could not forgive. You may think me an old fashioned ass, but to me it was a total betrayal of our love and our marriage. How long has she been screwing this guy? How could I ever trust her again? I would just have to get over her, one way or another.

******************

Now here's where my life took an interesting turn. I had made it a practice, when I was in town, to stop at a watering hole on the way home from the office. It was a small, sophisticated spot with a upscale clientele. A small scotch and water always seemed to help end the day.

Halfway down the bar sat a couple; he was halfway to being drunk out of his mind and the woman he was with was obviously more than upset. He was pawing at her and she was trying unsuccessfully to keep her clothes on

I heard her hiss at him, "You bastard, keep your hands to yourself," as she again removed his hand from her jacket covered breast.

So help me, to this day I don't know why I did what I did. I walked over and just kicked the bar stool out from under him. He went down quickly, hitting his head on the edge of the bar. Looking at him sprawled on the floor I turned and looked at Joe, the bartender.

"Joe, it looks like this guy had an accident. You had better call the cops, or an ambulance."

Joe looked at me and smiled. "Yeah, I saw him slip right off his stool. Guess he had a few too many," he said as he moved to check on the ass's breathing. He then called 911.

I turned to the woman who was staring at me with her mouth open. I muttered, "Look, I'm sorry, miss. I guess I shouldn't have acted so precipitously, but..........."

She interrupted, "Sorry? Sorry? I owe you big time. Please, let me buy you a drink, and no, I'm not a hooker," she smiled broadly.

She led me to a table and, shaking my hand, introduced herself. "My name is Kathy Gitane and that asshole is an intern at the hospital where I'm an administrator. It looks like he gets smashed after two drinks and I really do appreciate your intervention."

I was examining her as she spoke. Very, very nice. Average height, nice figure from what I could see. Age? hmmm, in her late 30s, I would guess. Dark brown hair, brown eyes. Yes, a very nice package.

We had a drink and a nice chat, interrupted only by a team of paramedics who came in and toted away someone who had fallen from his bar stool. 

I told her my name and we spent a very enjoyable hour just telling each other a bit about ourselves. It seemed that she was also a divorcee, and was, after two years, still coping with being a single again. Yep, her ex was a skirt chaser and after his third fall from grace, she had had enough and dumped him. No children, it seemed she couldn't have any. I gave her the condensed version of my background and we then moved on to less sensitive topics.

I liked her, she was interesting to talk with and very easy on the eyes. We made arrangements to meet again the next day for a drink and it got to be a regular thing. After our third "date" I asked her to dinner and she accepted. After our third "dinner date", I was asked to come back to her apartment for a drink. 

You know what's coming next? Yeah, it's kind of obvious. Don't think that I had been totally celibate after my divorce. I had the occasional date and occasional piece of ass, but certainly not as frequently as I may have wanted. But I was now older, yeah, I had "celebrated" my 50th birthday, and while I still had lust in my heart, not getting laid on a regular basis was not driving me up a wall. At least I told myself that.

Kathy had a nice place. It wasn't frilly and feminine, at least not overly so. It looked functional, but not very personal, almost as if she hadn't wanted to spend a lot of time decorating. 

She made us drinks and we sat on the sofa. Turning to me, she leaned over and kissed me softly.

"Let's cut to the chase, Paul. I want you, and I hope that you want me. But please remember, it's been awhile for me, so let's take it nice and slow. Is that alright?"

I smiled and nodded. Taking her in my arms I started to nibble at her ear and then down to her neck, nuzzling her. She had on a silk blouse and linen skirt, cut just above the knee. As my lips moved to hers, I moved my hand and gently cupped the underside of her breast. I head her let out a sudden breath of air and felt her press her breast to my hand.

While kissing and nibbling, I unbuttoned her blouse and slowly removed it from her shoulders. Her breasts, quite ample, strained against the fabric of her lacy bra. I allowed my fingers to gently toy with her nipple, which was now quite erect and then my hand moved to her back and I unfastened the bra and let it fall from her. 

Her breasts were full and milky white. The areolas were a pale beige as were her nipples which were jutting up at me. I lowered my head and softly kissed each one. I could hear Kathy breathing heavily as I laved the points of her breasts. I suddenly felt her hips shift and realized that she had unzipped her skirt and was now slipping it off her legs. 

I placed my hand on her leg, just below the juncture of her thighs and felt the heat emanating from her sex. Slowly moving my hand I covered her mound and felt that her panties were moist, she was obviously very aroused. I moved my finger lightly along the crease of her vulva and felt her become even wetter. 

Startled, I felt her hand on my zipper which she quickly lowered. Reaching in, she extracted my cock which was leaking like crazy, and covered the head with her palm. 

"Paul, please let me" she pleaded unnecessarily. 

With that she unbuckled my belt, opened my pants and lowered them and my shorts to my knees. Bending, she kissed the head of my cock, tonguing the small slit which was now leaking a torrent of fluid. She then engulfed the head and sucked gently. 

Slowly she continued her downward descent until her nose was buried in my pubic hair. Fortunately, I am of average size, so she didn't seem to have a problem taking me so deeply. 

I lay back and just luxuriated in her ministrations. She slowly worked her way up and down my cock, licking, nibbling and sucking. I thought I had died and gone to heaven, when.....

Ooops, yeah, you guessed it. I couldn't hold back - that would have been a physical impossibility. I tried to warn her, but she just jammed her mouth down firmly and allowed me to ejaculate into her. I thought that the top of my head would explode, I came so hard; but she wasn't finished with me. She held me in her mouth until I sank back with an exhalation of total exhaustion. I suddenly felt really embarrassed.

"Kathy," I began. "I'm really sorry, I really didn't mean........."

"Shhhhh, shhhhh," she soothed. "Don't worry, Paul. I wanted this. Knowing that I aroused you to that extent is a total turn on for me. It's a real ego booster."

"I usually have much more control than that," I said. "But, you're right, how could any man not lose control with a woman like you. You are really something special."

Kathy smiled at me and suddenly rose and took my hand.

"Now it's time to take this to a more appropriate room," she teased, and with that led me to her bedroom and the large bed that awaited us. We quickly shed our remaining clothing.

Lying with her nestled to my side, I said softly, "It may take a little while for me to be able to perform again."

Inside my head I was praying that the "little while" would not be a day or two. I was very aware that I was now over 50, not 20. 

"We have all night, Paul," Kathy murmured into my neck. She had taken my very flaccid penis into her hand and was slowly stroking me. While I realized that that organ was going to be out of commission for awhile, I had other resources that could be utilized, if you get my meaning.

I rose on an elbow and kissed her passionately. My lips traveled down to her neck where they spent a few delightful minutes nuzzling and nibbling again. I took my time exploring that area just above her breasts until she took my head and brought my lips to the nipple of her left breast. I didn't need any more encouragement. I licked, gently bit and suckled to my heart's content. Not to cause any jealousy, I spent an equal amount of time with her other breast. 

I don't know how much time had passed, but I suddenly became aware of Kathy breathing heavily and moaning softly. I paused in my adoration of her bosum and allowed my mouth to travel down to her belly button. I spent some time just playing orally with that delightful cavity. Kathy was now writhing and gasping. 

"Shit," she moaned. "Enough Paul. You're driving me crazy," and with that she took my head and brought it forcibly down to her pudenda. 

She was sopping wet, her juices flowing freely and running down the crack of her ass. I quickly inserted my tongue between her lips and moved it up to her clitoris. I found the little nub and laved it gently. Kathy tensed, her thighs gripped my head almost painfully.

Her body rose, supported only by her shoulders and the heels of her feet. Despite her thighs that were clamped against my ears, I heard her keening, in the throes of a massive orgasm. She remained in that frozen position for quite awhile before she suddenly fell back to the bed, gasping for breath. She reached for me and moved into my arms. I saw the tears that were flowing down her cheeks.

I smiled, suddenly proud of myself. I held her gently and stroked her hair. It didn't take long before she was fast asleep. We slept through the night, in each others arms.

The next morning I awoke to discover Kathy lying next to me, gently playing with my cock which was fully erect and leaking.

"Well, you're finally awake," she teased. "I thought that Mr. Big down there would rouse you earlier."

Mr. Big, I wondered? What Mr. Big? Believe me, I am very average in size and I also don't believe that guys with monster cocks necessarily make better lovers than my "Mr. Big."

"If you're trying to inflate my ego, it's working," I laughed. "Mr. Big, as you so kindly call him is, I'm happy to say, very eager to continue. Should we take up where we left off last night?"

"Yep," Kathy murmured into my neck, "but first into the shower. Come, join me."

Did you ever notice how much fun it is to shower with a beautiful naked woman. I know, the question is purely rhetorical. It doesn't require an answer.




Lord, What Fools... Ch. 02



We soaped, we rubbed, we played, we got excited as hell. I stood behind her and allowed my cock to slide through the cheeks of her ass and down along her pussy. Jeez, it was like butter. Almost without trying the head of my cock entered her. I leaned back against the wall of the shower and just allowed her to move herself gently up and down on my phallus. It was very, very nice. I would recommend it to anyone.

We decided that it was time to wash and dry off. We used the huge fluffy towels and almost ran back and jumped into the bed. 

Kathy kneeled over me and whispered, "Paul, I want to sit on you."

"Your slightest wish is.... etc. etc." I smiled.

Looking into my eyes she moved her leg over me and sat on my stomach. I could feel the heat from her groin as well as the moisture. She lifted herself up slightly and moved over my now very erect cock. Grasping it by the base, she lowered herself on me. I felt the head slowly spread her labia and then enter that sweet, dark passage.

Kathy placed her hands on my shoulders and worked her hips up and down slowly, allowing my phallus to slide into and out of her in time to a tempo she wanted. Sometimes I thought that it would come completely out of her, but she would stop in time with just the head nestled between her nether lips.

She suddenly sat straight up and started to move quickly up and down. Leaning back, she grasped my thighs and ground up and down on me rapidly, then slowed and stopped. She sat there and smiled at me wickedly. 

"Mr. Big feels so damn good, Paul," she said faintly.

"You keep calling him that, you'll give me a big head," I joked, not realizing that I had made a pun. Ok, a bad one, but a pun nevertheless. Hey, I felt great. 'Mr. Big' was doing his job, and I had control.

Kathy then just held me by the waist and started jamming her pelvis up and down on me. There was now a look of concentration on her face and I could see the sweat beading on her face and her breasts. I felt my cock sliding rapidly in and out of her and I recognized that I wouldn't be long able to maintain control of my passion.

I grasped her hips and held on. I soon felt the pressure building in my balls and looked up at Kathy in anticipation. She had her eyes closed and was moaning almost continuously. She suddenly clamped down on me and I could see her mouth in what appeared to be a rictus of agony, but the agony was of intense ecstacy . That put me over the top and I exploded with her still clamped firmly on me.

Kathy collapsed on me and just lay there, trying to recover her breath and her senses. 

"Damn," she whispered. "That was so fantastic. I don't think I ever had orgasms as intense as you have given me. Are you some kind of sex genius?" she asked breathlessly. 

Son- of -a- bitch, this woman made me feel like Superman. I believe at that moment I actually thought that I could leap tall buildings in a single bound. I suddenly felt a wave of affection for this glorious creature who made me feel more alive than I had in months, or longer. 

****************

So began a relatively tranquil period after what had been a rather tumultuous time in my life. Kathy and I formed a close and co-dependent relationship. We saw each other frequently and most weekends found us spending the night in either her or my apartment. She was comfortable and totally undemanding. Sure, the sex was phenomenal, but the times we spent just talking were like a tonic for me. It was during this time that I learned to relax and bury the angst of the end of my marriage.

I also maintained a close relationship with Terry Oldham, my lawyer and my friend. We would meet at least once a week for a drink after work. He quickly got the message that I really didn't want to know anything concerning Emily. The bitterness still simmered below the surface and I didn't want to stir up that kettle of fish. 

Then, when I expected it least, fate threw me a curve ball. Kathy and I were relaxing in her living room over a glass of wine when she turned to me..... 

"Paul," she began tentatively. "I've got something I have to tell you."

I sudden chill ran down my back. Why did I feel that bad news was coming? Was it because things were going too well right now? I just stared at her.

She took a deep breath and let it out. "Honey, I have been offered the position of chief administrator of a hospital on the west coast. After giving it a hell of a lot of thought, I accepted the offer."

It was as though I had received a blow to the solar plexus. I just sat there, unbelieving. I didn't know how to react, I was stunned. 

I just blurted it out, "Kathy, don't go. Let's get married."

Where the hell did that come from? The thought of marrying Kathy was something that had never entered my mind. Of course, the thought of losing her had also never entered my mind.

Kathy had moved over to me and stroked my cheek.

"Dear, sweet Paul. I truly do care for you. You have become such a dear friend and I truly value our time together, but I won't marry you. And there are two very good reasons for that decision."

She held my eyes with hers and I saw that they were shining with unshed tears. 

"First, I do not love you and you don't really love me. We are friends with benefits, as they say. That's not to minimize my feelings for you. In some ways, I feel closer to you than to anyone who has ever entered my life, except perhaps my parents.

"The second reason," she continued, "is the fact that you're still very much in love with your ex-wife." She let out a little chuckle at my shocked expression.

"No, Paul. Don't even try to deny that. You may not know it, but you talk in your sleep. No long discourses, but enough to make me realize that your heart will always belong to her."

I just sat there with my mouth open like a total idiot. At that moment I just didn't know how to respond. I didn't know what to say to her. I just reached for her and held her in my arms. I think that we both shed a few tears that evening. I knew that what she was doing was the right thing for her. It was a move up the ladder in her profession, something that I wouldn't interfere with.

Would I miss her, you bet your ass I would miss her. She grounded me, she nurtured me, she saved me from drowning in a sea of remorse and depression. I would think of her often in the years ahead.

******************

Over the next few weeks I kept hearing what Kathy had said to me. "your heart will always belong to her." Shit, I hadn't thought of Emily in months. Yeah, and if you believe that then I have a tropical resort in Greenland I can let you have cheap.

I knew that I still loved Emily, but I was on the horns of a true dilemma: I wanted Emily back, but I just couldn't forget or forgive her adultery. I was torn between those two poles. I couldn't get past her cheating. What did I do to deserve that kind of betrayal? How long had that affair gone on? How many months, or was it longer?

Why did she cheat? I know that we had virtually stopped all sexual contact. Was that the reason? Did she lose control of her need for physical contact? I just couldn't believe that. Did she actually love that asshole? I didn't believe that either. Shit, I didn't know what to believe.

A few weeks later I was sitting at a table, having a drink with Terry Oldham, a usual occurrence. We were yakking about the upcoming elections, casting aspersions on both candidates.

I cleared my throat. "Terry, I...... uhhhh, I......hmmmm." I fixed my gaze on a spot over his right shoulder. 

I started again. "Terry, How........, that is....... errrrr, I mean...." Terry had a small smile on his face. "Emily is ok, Paul. She's doing ok."

"Oh...... good, I mean....... that's good." I realized that my head was moving up and down like a fucking bobblehead doll you see in the rear window of cars.

"You know that she sold the house and moved?" he asked.

"Moved? Moved? Why did she do that?"

"Well, she told Julie that the house was just too big and too empty for just one person. She wanted to give half the proceeds to you, but I told her that the house was hers in the final settlement. She bought a condo close to her work."

I just stared at him. "Work? What work? Why is she working? Why does she have to work? I didn't want her to have to go back to work" I recognized that I was now babbling.

"She didn't have to go to work, Paul. She went back to school and got her BS degree in nursing. She is now a hospice nurse. She feels she's making a difference; she's doing something worthwhile with her life."

I sat silently for a moment, digesting this information. I then asked Terry how he knew all this. Was he keeping in touch with Emily?

"Julie and Emily have become very close, Paul. They're almost like sisters now. They have great affection for each other. Julie keeps me informed. I guess you also didn't know that Emily has undergone counseling. She felt that she was to blame, at least in part, for driving you to cheat." Terry was now looking at me very intently.

It took a few seconds for that to penetrate. What Terry just said was so outrageous that I just sat and stared at him with my mouth open.

"Me, me???? Me cheat??............" I sputtered. Spittle was flying from my mouth. That statement was so not true that I couldn't form a coherent sentence. I felt my face flushing and I knew that my pressure was up again.

Terry had put his hands up to try to shut me up. "Easy Paul, just take it easy. Calm down now. Don't try to say anything."

Terry's face had a look of compassion, mingled with not a small amount of impatience. 

He continued....."Paul, it's time now that you and Emily have a frank and honest discussion. There's a lot here that doesn't make sense and you two have got to get to the bottom of it. Personally, I think that you're both idiots and I also believe that what has happened to the both of you is something that has grown out of a kernel of misinformation and resulted in the destruction of your marriage.

"Listen to me, Paul. It's now over two years since you two have split; can you truthfully tell me that you've been happy? Don't even try to answer that. I know the answer. You have got to go and see Emily."

"Emily actually thought that I had cheated?" I asked increduously. I still couldn't get my head around that fact. I was still dazed.

"Paul, did you hear what I just said? You're not stupid. You have to pick your ass up and meet with Emily. It's time, in fact it's way past time."

I just sat, my mind awhirl with unanswered questions and raw emotion. I looked at Terry. Was I actually considering his suggestion? Could I do as he suggested?

"I'm not sure that she'll even see me, Terry. Our parting wasn't exactly pleasant. " 

"Leave it to me," he answered quickly. "I'll get back to you in a couple of days at the most. Just leave it in my hands." 

I shook my head, still a bit dazed and totally confused. What the hell was happening? Why did Emily think that I had cheated? Was this a ploy to excuse her own infidelity? I didn't think so. One thing I did know, Emily was never devious. I would just have to wait.

Terry called me the next day. "Paul, Emily asked if you would come to dinner tonight?"

I panicked, whoa...... too quick..... dinner?..... too intimate, whoa, take a breath. "Terry, not for dinner, I'll come for coffee, tomorrow. Tomorrow is Saturday. Is she off tomorrow? I'll come for coffee around 10 in the morning if she's free." 

Early morning is not romantic. It's more businesslike.

"I'll ask and get right back to you." He did and gave me Emily's address and directions. I found that my palms were sweating. The rest of this day was going to be a waste, I knew that, so I took off early and went home. I would have to gird my loins for tomorrow. Hmmm, scotch was a good "girder". 

I rapped on Emily's door at exactly 10 a.m. the next morning. I made sure that I would not be early or late. I wanted to keep this friendly and not too personal. Don't ask me why, at this point I wasn't too sure if the sun rose in the east.

The door opened and there stood Emily. Goddamn, she looked great. I saw that she had lost some weight. She had also had her hair cut shorter. I did notice that she appeared a bit wan and drawn, but that could have been my imagination.

"Hello, Paul. It's nice to see you, please come in." Emily said in a calm and controlled voice.

I felt this insane desire to grab her and hold her in my arms. I got a hold of myself and thanked her and told her that she looked well. You know, like meeting an acquaintance I hadn't seen in awhile. Was I cool, or what?

Emily poured coffee while we made small talk. You know, how have things been, what are you doing now, crap to just fill the silence. We both could feel the tension.

I coughed a bit. "Emily, I......that is, Terry thought......" Shit, I couldn't even begin. This was just too difficult.

"Paul," Emily interrupted. "Please, let me. I want to apologize to you. I learned quite a bit about myself over these past few months, and I've come to realize that my behavior to you had been reprehensible the last year or so before you.... left. There is no doubt in my mind that, at least in part, was what caused you to look elsewhere, to begin an affair."

Son-of-a- bitch, there it was again. Why was everyone convinced that I cheated? I had to get this cleared up quickly.

"Emily, I don't want to start an argument now, but tell me exactly what caused you to believe that I cheated on you," I asked.

Emily sat and looked at me. I saw her lips compress and I knew that she was getting pissed. Well, I guess this meeting was not going to go as we both wished. She then took a deep breath, composed herself and continued.

"Ok, Paul. You want chapter and verse. To begin with, many times you would come home from your so called poker nights, reeking of perfume. I don't think that any of your poker pals wore that label. That caused me to begin to become suspicious."

Perfume?? Perfume?? I tried to think back. Shit, of course. We would almost gag whenever Wendy would wait on us. We used to joke that she must bathe in that stuff. I didn't realize that I still smelled of it when I returned home.

I explained this to Emily and she was taken aback a bit. She never thought that there would be such a simple explanation. I told her that she could call any of the guys, that they would verify that what I told her was the truth. 

She just shook her head and murmured, "I believe you, Paul. I should have discussed that with you at the time." She bit her lip in what I thought was embarrassment.

"Can you explain the lipstick smudge on your neck when you came home from your poker game a week before Christmas?"

Lipstick smudge? That threw me for a second. "Wait, I remember," I exclaimed. "The guys had chipped in and had given a nice tip to the gals who had been our waitresses. One of them had given me a peck on the cheek. I had thought that I had wiped that off. That happens to be the truth, Emily."

Emily now seemed visibly shaken. Then she straightened and looked me in the eye. "What about the condoms in your car, Paul. If you remember that Tuesday when I was due at the women's meeting and my car wouldn't start. I asked to use yours? There was a bag on the passenger seat and in it was a box of condoms. We hadn't used condoms in ages, Paul," she said accusingly. 

Condoms? Why would I........ "Shit," I blurted out. "Emily, those were for Tim Shukay. On Tuesday I mentioned that I had to stop by the drugstore to pick up a prescription for you. He asked if I would pick up a dozen condoms for him. He would get it from me at our poker grame.

"Emily, would I be stupid enough to buy condoms and then just leave them lying in my car if I were having an affair?" I concluded softly.

Emily was by now noticably flustered and agitated. She shook her head, it was obvious that she didn't know what to think. I had answered all of her suspicions. She then rose from her seat, went into her bedroom, at least I assumed it was her bedroom, and returned with a sheet of paper which she handed to me.

The paper had a printed heading: Able Investigations, with an address and telephone numbers. In three or four paragraphs it stated that a Dan Able had followed me to the Marriott hotel in town, observed me meeting a woman in the lobby and had followed us to a room on the 4th floor where we spend two hours.

I sat there stunned, this was a total crock of shit - this never happened. I then had a brainstorm.

"Emily, can I use your phone?" I asked.

She nodded, keeping her eyes fixed on me.

I quickly found the number I wanted and called, praying that she would be in. My call was answered on the second ring. I asked if June Meyers was in and was transferred. I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Ms. Meyers, this is Paul Rieger. I'm not sure if you remember me."

"Of course, Mr. Rieger, I remember you quite well. How are you?" She queried. 

"Fine, thank you. I would like to ask you if you have ever heard of an Able Investigations and a guy named Dan Able?"

There was a pause. "Mr. Rieger, that man was an embarrassment to my whole profession. He is dishonest, venal and totally undependable. He has recently had his license revoked and cannot operate in this state any longer. I would caution you to take anything he tells you with a very large grain of salt."

"Thank you, Ms. Meyers. Would you please repeat that to someone that I'd like to put on the phone now," I asked.

I motioned Emily over and gave her the phone. "Em, I think that you should hear this."

She stood and listened and I could see her face turn very pale. She began to tremble as she murmered a thank you and put the phone down.

Emily turned to me, tears now streaming down her face. "Paul, I just can't believe how stupid I was. I'll never be able to forgive myself. Not only in not having faith in you, but in not doing what you had asked. I should have confronted you and we would have cleared up this mess without the heartache that I caused."

She threw herself on the sofa, pale with tears running down her cheeks. At that moment I wanted to comfort her, but old fears do not die quickly. I didn't know how she would react to my touch. I also wasn't too sure that I really wanted to comfort her. 

I went into the kitchen and brought her a glass of water which I urged on her. She composed herself and took a small swallow.

Emily looked at me. "You never cheated, did you Paul." That was more of a statement then a question.

"Never, Em. I could never do that to you."

"Oh, my God. But I did, I screwed Jason to get even. I wanted to hurt you as I imagined you hurt me. " she whimpered.

I had to ask. "How often did you meet him, Em?"

"Twice Paul, only twice over two weeks. I never enjoyed it, it disgusted me and I ended it after the second time we met. I just wanted to get even with you. Oh, how stupid, how idiotic." she castigated herself.

Well, considering the misinformation she had accumulated and the fact that she wouldn't confront me with it, I could see how she would have come to the conclusion she did. Could I actually forgive her? I had always thought that this was something that I could never forget nor forgive. But, considering the facts, could I get over this?

"Emily," I began cautiously, "A lot of bitterness has passed between us. I'm not sure if there is anything left worth salvaging, but I think that we could at least still become friends again. Who knows what the future may bring.."

"Paul, I would really like to try," Emily said softly.

*******************

So that's the story. I'd like to say that we fell into each others arms and vowed our eternal love. Unfortunately, real life doesn't work that way. Emily and I took the beginning steps toward a reconciliation. Will we get together again? Who knows, I sure don't. Right now we're like people meeting for the first time. Emily has changed, as have I, I imagine. At least now we're open with each other. I'd like to believe that perhaps some day we'll be together again. But again, who knows, maybe that's not in the cards.