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The Fourth Wife

By: RealDoc



This story contains no intimate sexual scenes. It is entirely fiction. Hopefully you will find the theme interesting. There will be a second chapter but you are invited to submit your own sequel. My sincere thanks go to Techscan for editing. He made well over 500 corrections.

THE FOURTH WIFE, DEJA VU

I was sitting there thinking something was seriously wrong. This was neither the first nor the last of my painful lonely solo times. I didn't know what it was. It certainly had everything to do with her months of on-site research in a strange community in southern Utah. My wife of 5 years had returned from two months of research in the desert parts of southern Utah. 

She had been doing the final research for her PhD with a major in Sociology. Now she was spending day and night alone at her computer typing out her experiences and research findings for her thesis. It seems that I was spending many days and nights also alone at my desk trying to deal with the interpersonal problems building between Susan and me. 

I felt it was all her fault. She would not participate in solving that growing serious problem of trust. She remained aloof to my pleas for dialog. I was running out of ideas on how to deliver myself from my growing pain and suspicions. Susan was not going to help. She had never been this way before we parted on our trips.

You will probably ask why I think something is wrong. Well, let me give you some stuff to digest and see if you come out wondering like I am. First let me give you a little history about us.

Well, I'm a geologist currently working for an oil exploration company. Yep, we study rock and what's in between them. Like oil and gas.I graduated with a master's degree three years ago. I'll brag just a little. Sorry about that but I am good at what I do. I graduated summa cum laude and I have great hand-eye coordination. Guess that's why I'm world class as a marksman and a reasonably good cellist. I can also deliver the echo probe at 800 feet underwater to within an inch of where we want it. My pay reflects my knowledge and skills. 

After graduate school I was heavily recruited and went immediately to work in oil exploration. Being top of my class helped to get just the job I wanted. There still is a lot of competition in the oil exploration and drilling community about who will get to the oil first and cheapest. The big oil companies feel that new sources of oil are important. My job of finding new sources is important to them. 

I'm an average white westerner 70 inches tall and 175 pounds, light brown hair and a little goatee. My name is Ethan Allen. Sorry, no relationship to the famous furniture manufacturer. I have to make my own fame.

My wife is 67 inches tall, with C cups, nice hips, and long black hair almost to her waist. She goes by Susan. She has a little "tic" of swirling her head to make her hair swing, sometimes even over her shoulder. She has a very plain Jane face but a little makeup and a smile with her hair hanging loosely over her shoulder onto a succulent breast is very sexy to me. She is lithe and slim with near perfect sensuous female proportions. 

You can correctly surmise that she is quite intelligent also. Proof of this being that she had graduated magna cum laude and had been accepted into a well known doctoral program here in Utah. She's basically an academic type. She taught high school one year out of college before her masters. She loves academia. Research and teaching. As it turns out, she loved them too much.

My wife and I met in college in Colorado, my home state. We got married in college. That was five years ago. She was a junior and I was a senior. We both finished master's degrees in our chosen fields. Hers is Sociology (minor in psychology) i.e., the study of behavior of groups of people. Mine is a lot 'harder' field. Geologists study rocks and the earth and everything from the surface down. While in college I was elected president of the college's Marksman Society. This and playing cello in the concert orchestra were my extracurricular activities. I have maintained an interest in both. I was really good with numerous awards won in national collegiate competition. Susan had been active in the drama society also.

Let me say a little about our families. 

I really know very little about her family other than her mother was divorced or was a single parent. Her mother never talked of Susan's father. Neither did Susan. I didn't care, presuming he was a nonentity now for the both of them. We continued to be on friendly terms with Susan's mom. I didn't push her about her past. She did finish high school and then went on to college here in Utah for a teaching certificate and bachelors in education. She teaches in the lower grades. She seems happy, very quiet, efficient and dedicated to her teaching. I think Susan picked up her traits. I detect a dark side when I ask Susan about her family of origin. Susan won't talk about her early years. I didn't push her either. My wife was an only child.

I have two younger brothers. One is in the Army and the other is in the Air Force. We don't see much of them as they are being constantly deployed around the world. My parents live in Colorado, not too far from us. We visit them occasionally and stay in touch frequently by telephone. 

I just got back in town a couple of days ago. This was only a couple of days after she got back from her research study. 

I picked up my car at the corporate headquarters where it had been stored in the secure parking area for the last two months. I had left it there before flying out to Africa. I drove the last 50 miles to our home town where we had a nice but small ranch style home in the beautiful valley. The little town is surrounded by distant high snow-covered peaks. The valley has plenty of water year round. This town is as close to heaven as I could get on this planet called earth. 

I travel to off shore West Africa on and off doing oil exploratory studies. On this trip I had been gone almost nine weeks. In return I get plenty of in-between off time and can file reports on-line from home. 

Originally Susan and I had agreed for her to spend one month on-site where her research for her thesis would be conducted. I was to be ship bound in the burning hot eastern Atlantic off the coast of West Africa. We both left home the same day, me to Atlantic Africa and she to southern Utah. I had taken her to the bus station then returned home. I drove to corporate headquarters, parked my car in the secure area and hailed a cab to the airport. Upon returning it was always just the opposite.

When I got back Susan greeted me at the door and welcomed me back to the states. She didn't say, "Welcome home," just, "Welcome back to the States."

She told me she had just gotten back a few days ago. Obviously she had been gone two months, not just one. Immediately after entering our front door and greeting Susan, she told me she had a very heavy schedule in preparing her thesis and she needed to be isolated in the den to continue recording and analyzing her data. 

"For this reason," she stated simply, "I have put a lock on the den door to insure that I'm not disturbed, so please don't bother me when I'm working." 

I saw no need for a lock as I would honor her reasonable request without need for a lock. I saw no need to lock me out. I told her that.

She had not informed me of her extra long stay. She did tell me she had no access to telephones or e-mail. She said she was living in this town and had to 'fit in' with their clannish and peculiar life style if she were to gather the information she wanted for her research thesis. Somehow I couldn't believe that she couldn't notify me. This seemed preposterous. After all cell phones are everywhere. She also has a prepaid long distance card. She took her laptop which has internet access. Heck, I could talk to our other teams off the coast of Brazil or the one researching the Artic Ocean off Alaska all from Africa. Surely she could call from southern Utah. 

I had tried multiple times to contact her by e-mail but each had remained unchecked. That had been my only means of communicating directly with her and it didn't work. I didn't have a telephone number at which to call her. I also had e-mailed the University to help establish contact with her but they were of no help. She was not in communication with them either. 

I had worried about her safety. I told I had worried about her. 

Her counter to my statement about worldwide easy access to communications with me was that I was away so it didn't make any difference. She said she could take care of herself and I shouldn't have worried. She couldn't understand that I was interested in her and her activities even though I couldn't change anything. I don't think she tried very hard to tell me of her change in plans to stay longer.

She wouldn't tell me much of anything about her living conditions either. She did live with one of the families while she was there. She had made some contacts on prior visits to the targeted town that much I knew. Now she was typing away furiously and avoiding me. Her explanations were that she had to get her research into the computer and organized into thesis form.

She was doing her dissertation on a splinter group from the Mormon Church. These groups lived in closed rural isolated communal towns. Susan said that not much was known from a scientific point of view. Lots of accusations and innuendo abounded but there was not too much real research into the inner lives of the community. I think I recalled some scandal down there on the local news some years ago but couldn't recall the particulars. I knew that outsiders were not welcome. 

Susan's research took her into one such closed community. Her project called for one month only on-site. She had stayed longer. She explained that she stayed to complete her research rather than having to go back again at a later date. I wondered if my perception that they really were a tightly closed exclusionary society was wrong. I wondered how Susan, being an "outsider," had gained access to them over such an extended period of time. Perhaps they had made some sort of exception for Susan. Did they know she was there to research them? These questions were perplexing and Susan wouldn't talk to me about anything that had to do with her research. 

She really is dedicated to and working hard to complete her Ph.D. I admire her for those but know there is something radically different about her since she came back.

This lack of communications just didn't click with me. I told her so. She got a little irritated, saying that doctoral research is much more complicated and difficult than most people understand. The clear implication is that I am one of the "non-understanding" persons. She wouldn't discuss any issue regarding her two month stay with me further. She had shared her research project and methodology with me before departing. 

Now that she had completed her research, even with the changes she had to make, why couldn't she share her experiences with me. She had had to tell her thesis committee everything but she wouldn't share anything with me. I felt like I was excluded from this part of our recent history. The questions seemed trivial and non-threatening to me but to her they obviously were in some twisted sense of her reasoning. 

For this first time in our 5 years of married life together, I really felt Susan was hiding something from me. Something important enough had occurred to cause me constant friction and increasing tension. She just was close-mouthed about it all. She would tell me that she would tell me "someday after my thesis is done." This was of no comfort to me. Why not tell me now? 

The most noticeable thing and the very first thing I had noticed on my return was just too obvious to miss. It was the way she dressed. Before all this, she dressed as any 26 year old married woman would: not too sexy and not to conservative. She always liked to show her C-cup cleavage but not too much of it. She had always worn skirts that were just above knee length. She enjoyed jeans and pant suits and looked great in them. She knew that she was not beautiful so she had concentrated on using her make up to brighten her face and it was successful. She always used perfume and make up. 

Now, she was dressing ultra-conservatively. Her dresses were closed to her neck and elongated to ankle length. During the first month back, she changed her dress into even stranger attire. Essentially she was wearing what I call "tent dresses," the type things that terribly obese women wear to hide their bulging butts and guts. Susan was anything but fat. She had a body to die for even if her facial features were far less attractive.

Things had changed however. Now she wore very plain uninspiring longitudinally striped outfits, gray or gray-blue. God knows where she could find these monstrosities to wear but somehow she had acquired them. 

I didn't like them at all. It did nothing to reveal her naturally beautiful body which she had been proud of before all this. She now wore no perfume or lipstick. Her arm pits smelled. Let's say they were more French than American but she wore no perfume to cover over the body odor as did the Frenchies. She had always had long straight black hair that she brushed and let hang down freely well below her shoulders. Now she rolled it up into a ball behind her head. Her presentation was nothing less than ugly. I told her that but she didn't care any more about her self-image or how badly I was disappointed in her.

"Susan, thanks for showing me what those perverts wear down there in the boonies. When will you get back into the 21st century? I appreciate your show but it will be wonderful to see you as you were. Your dresses are terrible, your hair is worse and your body stinks. How can you do this to me?" 

All she said would say is - well, she would not reply, just turned away and went back into seclusion in her den. No mention of changing was ever made. She never wore decent clothes again, to my knowledge. I continually commented negatively, almost to the point of harassment. One time after my degrading comments, she got a little ticked off and said she had gotten used to dressing like the women there and actually enjoyed the looser clothing and the more conservative dress style. In addition, it helped keep her in the mood and mode of what she wore while she recorded her research and worked on her thesis. 

I told her I didn't like it at all and would appreciate it if she would just dress like all the rest of us in the "outside world," as she identified us normal people now. She looked like the pictures I had seen in a magazine of those communal wives in towns back two hundred years or so. Maybe I had seen the picture on an oatmeal container. Anyway I hated it but she didn't care what I thought any more. She was surely acting strangely so far as I was concerned

At night, it was no different. She would come to bed in a long plain gray cotton night gown. She would not kiss me after we were in bed. Even the formerly very pleasant caressing of her beautiful and desirable breasts and hips was rebuffed day and night. Her body was off limits to me, her husband. 

She would say, "If I get aroused, I won't be able to resist going all the way with you; that would mess with my emotions and my memories which would taint my unique research."

I kept trying but none of my pleading and requests would change her back into the sensuous female she had been. Finally I got tired of being refused and routinely turned my back to her in bed immediately, thus avoiding the inevitable rebuff and refusal. I told her it was like we weren't married any longer. Even that met with a flat response. 

She continued to be glued to her computer. She hardly comes out of "our den" which she has taken over. Her excuse is that she is trying to avoid anything that would taint her recollection of her research. This line of "bullshit," as I called it to her face really ticked me off. Talking about it would, in her mind, taint her research. She was in communication with her thesis professor however. She would talk to him, yet not to me. I was really getting irritated. My house was no longer my home but a source of irritation, the reason being who was living in it at my expense, financially and emotionally. Could I do nothing about it? She was my wife and I wanted her back. Frustration rose.

Susan had apparently picked up some type of stomach infection while on-site. She had been sick for a few days before she arrived back and she continued to be sick now that she was back home. She was frequently nauseated especially in the mornings. She kept saltine crackers at her side of our queen sized marital bed. Those seemed to help her upset stomach. 

Several times I asked her to go to a doctor to find out what was wrong. She promised to do this but to my knowledge she never did. After the first few weeks she was feeling well again. In fact she looked great. All I was allowed to see of her was her face and hands. She had warm full pink cheeks and her lips were so soft when she allowed me to kiss her. After she had recovered, she said since her nausea had gone away and had not come back she didn't see any need to go to a doctor. I didn't see a reason to go either; after all, she was not sick anymore. 

A friend of mine at work, after I told him of my wife's condition, mentioned that hepatitis could have caused her upset stomach and inquired she had gotten all her hepatitis shots. Acute hepatitis can relent and then become chronic resulting in later liver failure, he had told me. I passed that on to Susan. We had both had all the immunizations recommended by the C.D.C. She never turned yellow. I suggested she visit a doctor to get the blood tests that would prove she was immune or had had an infection. 

She refused to go since, "I feel okay now."

She does help with household duties but minimally. Before her trip she seemed to enjoy doing things with me around the house such as meals. Not so now. She attributes the need to meet a deadline for her thesis if she is to obtain her degree this spring. She had been working on this now for several years - that is, on her degree. She had not formerly expressed the urgent desire to finish her degree this year. She has another two years allocated by the university but now the race to completion has taken over her life. She was absolutely intent on completing everything NOW. 

I told her that our relationship was suffering because of her sudden intense dedication to her thesis. She told me that the intensity of work needed to complete a thesis had always been known to me. Now was the best and only time to finish. I couldn't grasp the need for such a big rush all of a sudden. 

I asked her if her academic goals had changed. If so then I might be able to understand. Her reply was that she wanted to use her high school teaching skills again beginning that coming fall. She wanted to have her terminal degree in hand when she started back again. That made some sense to me for her to go ahead and finish. Her reasoning didn't make total sense to me. She already had her teaching certificate. She also had two years remaining to finish her degree. So why did she have this sudden big push now. This sudden flurry of high intensity activity was testing our marriage to beyond the limits. A PhD isn't required for high school teaching. Only tenured university positions require that level of education. It didn't make sense to me. Her explanations fell short of satisfying my curiosity.

Now in the past, we always were very careful to talk about all our plans together before making decisions. She was carefully avoiding our previous snuggling and sex times. These were the times when our most intense sharing occurred. Now, here she was, off making decisions that affected our marriage. She hadn't even notified me; much less discussed these to see what my feelings were. I told her that this was very troubling. She was making such a decision unilaterally, without our usual husband/wife discussion. 


The Fourth Wife Ch. 02



This will make no sense unless you read part one.

This is entirely fiction. It contains no sexually explicit descriptions but does include some violence. 

In Part One I told of my wife's infidelity and our subsequent break up. 

I was off to the bank, to a realtor, to a divorce lawyer then to my parent's house. I was going to retrieve something only I knew about that was stored in their attic. I had business to conduct, contacts to make, plans to refine, justice to administer and then a new life to make for myself.

I drove to corporate headquarters and got the apartment for two months. I was free at last. I hated it but freedom comes with a high price. Crossing me the way Henry did was going to prove costly for him also.

The next day was a flurry of new activities. I closed my bank account and savings account; moving everything to new accounts opened at another bank in the big city. Our credit card was cancelled. I applied for a new one. I found a divorce lawyer in the city and arranged to see him the next afternoon. My boss knew of my marital troubles and offered whatever corporate assistance I might need. I told him all I needed was to send my paycheck to my new account and give me a couple of weeks off. If Susan called the secretaries, they should give Susan my new phone number at the apartment and I would handle her calls. That used up one whole day.

The next day I drove down to my former home. Susan was not at home. I retrieved the tape recorder and the stack of tapes that still lay on the table. I retrieved the rest of my books, files, clothes, tools, pictures, personal items and my cello. I called the Realtor to give them my new address and phone number. They told me that they could not list my house for sale without Susan's signature also. Well, she could live there. Let her pay the mortgage payments, mow the lawn and fix the bathroom toilet that tended to stop up and run over at the most inconvenient time.

I left Susan a note as to where I was with my new temporary phone number. She had my cell phone number if she wanted to contact me. I figured she would not want to talk to me. I told her I wanted to talk to her. I was not interested in discussing our pending divorce. It was about Henry and his daily activities that I wanted to talk to her about. The more one knows about the enemy, the more likely a successful strategy can be devised. I was a man on a mission now to see that Henry got his due for his part in breaking up my marriage. My focus on dispensing justice seemed to empower me with the energy I needed. 

The note was an impassioned plea for us to meet. I really did need her help in understanding Henry's mind set and daily activities to the minutest detail. While doing this, I had to treat her as part of the enemy camp. She was going to become the unwitting spy that would tell me everything I needed to know. 

The next stop was back to the city to see the divorce lawyer. 

Armed with the tapes and the computer discs from her computer, I told the lawyer what had happened. I told him I would not engage in any pre-divorce counseling. I was willing to talk to her but not to a counselor. I wanted to split the estate 50/50 including the deposit money Susan had plus half the future proceeds from any publishing she did as a result of her time with her research community. I would not agree to alimony or child support. I demanded that she give up her married name of Allen and that the child would not be named neither Ethan nor Allen. She would not sully my name.

I wrote out a hefty check off my new bank account. I didn't care that much. I knew freedom would be costly but freedom is what I coveted. Freedom from Susan, freedom from the marriage and freedom from hate. What I needed was a clear mind so my entire efforts to effect justice on Henry would be a total success. Time was not urgent to me. Success was important.

That night I got a call from Susan. She also wanted to talk. We arranged to meet for lunch at a diner in our former hometown the next day. That night I slept well for the first time in months. I had focus, inner strength, determination and a plan. Susan was history only.

I packed enough for several days as I was going to visit my parents and her mother after seeing Susan. Susan and I met the next day at the diner. She was dressed in a modern prenatal dress. She wore a little make up. She glowed like pregnant women do. She looked really good. I wished things had been different and the child had been mine. She looked so much better than the previous 5'months. Her cheek was badly bruised still. The waitress seated us at a table in a corner. The café was not crowded at lunch time so we had time before my planned drive east to her mothers place and then on to my parents house in Colorado. 

I was very careful in my approach to Susan. I complimented her on coming back to the twenty first century. Why she had done so was of no real interest to me. We were through as a couple. 

"Ethan," she began after we were seated and had ordered. " I want to apologize for the way I said things the other day."

"Susan," I replied "How you said it was about as gentle as you could be. The things you did, not the way you reported them, is the cause of our impending divorce. I'm sure you know I can't live with what you have done. You will be receiving the divorce petition within the next few days. I believe you will agree to the terms. The divorce will give you the legal freedom to return to Henry or to live as a single mom. The divorce also will free me of any legal obligations to you and to Henry's child you will have. I can never absolve you or forgive you of the infidelity you have engaged in. What I want you to know is that I am trying hard not to hate you. There were mitigating circumstances. You were a prisoner but you didn't try to get free or to fight him physically. Perhaps it is best you didn't fight him but his first sex with you was not entirely like a rape from a stranger who would then flee after killing you. My heart and mind is in confusion about what you told me. I want you to forgive me for the hateful things I said and for striking you that morning. I let my emotions get entirely out of hand and I ask for your forgiveness for that strike. I see your face is still bruised badly but most of the swelling has gone down."

Continuing before she could speak, "The reason I came hear is to let you help me understand the life you led while you were there. I don't want to hear about sex. I want to hear about what time you got up, when you went to bed, where is the house you lived in, what type work Henry does and where. I want to know the name of the community and its location. I have no interest in any of your intimate dealings with Henry or his other three wives."

The waitress served us and we ate in silence until Susan finished. She took a drink of water, looked at me, and said, "Ethan, I plan to go back to Henry within then next few days and see just what my situation is there. You actually scared me into thinking that Henry might actually beat me physically and emotionally. I don't think he will do that but I need to talk to him about the terms of my return, should I choose to do that. I also need to know if our marriage, that is you and me, is really beyond repair. My heart is still divided between you, and Henry." 

She knew how to punch my anger button. 

"Susan, I told you our marriage is over. Your heart divided heart crushed mine. Your even considering another man is enough to break us up forever. Perhaps some day you will comprehend how deeply you have hurt me. Infidelity is not just sexual. Perhaps some day you will experience the abyss of infidelity in its purest form. I don't wish that on anyone, even you. Your ignorance is your bliss. I had exclusive rights to you. You trashed that in your quest for an academic degree and some wild sex. I guess you forgot that you had promised me your loyalty in front of your mother, my family, our friends and God. You can be sure that I, Ethan Allen, am no longer part of your future. I will do everything I can to see to that. This is not what I want to talk about. 

I wanted this time with you to learn of your activities, how you lived were you lived, who you shared out side duties with; things like that. Our relationship is not going to be part of this time we share today, or ever again. Any discussion related to you and me as a couple has to go through my lawyer."

"Ethan," she tightened her rigid lips, "You don't have to be hateful. There is plenty of hate in this outside world to go around many times over."

"Lets get on with your telling me about the things I asked about, please?"

With that she told me when they got up and went to bed; who in the family did what and when. I asked about daily schedules for the wives, children and Henry. 

She really did tell me everything I wanted to know. I think I did not arouse any suspicions as to my plans for Henry. I certainly did not want Henry to become paranoid. That of course was ridiculous of me to even think. He was much to egotistical, arrogant and domineering to even think of some wimp outsider coming after him. My mission in life, at this point was exactly that.

I learned that Henry was very religious. He read his holy scriptures daily yet he was also superstitious. He believed in angels, visions and visitations from heavenly beings. He was a proud man. He had sex frequently, more than once a day usually. Sometimes he would have two or three of his wives in one evening. 

Susan said she loved trying to keep up with him. I think she said that to goad me and humiliate me. She succeeded but I didn't comment. 

Henry was a town leader and the other men held him in high esteem for his aggressive sexual ways and domination of his family and wives. He hated men who were not dominant in their own families but tolerated no interference in his own life or family. He was a control freak to me. I wondered what he thought of me. I dismissed that thought as it made no difference what he thought. He was just a pile of horse manure to me so why should I care what he thought.

I thought to myself that the high and mighty Henry had a hard fall coming. I remembered a scripture verse from my childhood. "Pride comes before a fall." Certainly Henry was full of pride and I was going to enjoy seeing his balloon deflated.

I told Susan good-bye and wished her well with her talks with Henry. I did not offer my hand in parting.

I had a six hour drive ahead of myself and would have to stay overnight somewhere. 

My first stop was to Susan's mother's house an hours drive away. She was home from her school teaching job.

She and I were on good terms although not particularly close. She invited me in and was surprised to see me but also seemed happy. 

I had her sit at her kitchen table with some fruit and water to snack upon. I told her Susan was pregnant. She smiled and congratulated us for starting a family. The sad news then came out as I told her from beginning to end of Susan's activities over the past six months. Susan's mom had been told nothing by Susan. She knew Susan had gone on a research project but knew nothing of where or what it was all about. She was appalled and cried to learn of Susan's decisions. She was most upset that Susan would even consider visiting her hometown much less be enthralled with it's culture. Susan's mother considered her escape like the Jews who escaped Auschwitz 

At great emotional price she and Susan had fled once before. Now, Susan, was not just playing with fire but had been burned severely yet going back for more. Her mom was beside herself in anger, disgust, fear and the pain of seeing her only child make such a fool of herself and her marriage. I had never seen a person in such distress before. My own agony had found a soul mate. 

We hugged for the longest time. Each of us feeling the loss of a loved one, the same loved one. I cried. We cried together. We shared our loss and drew strength from the other. I felt as if her mother was taking Susan's emotional place in me for the moment. I felt comforted.

The sun was setting. The long shadows of night threw their arms around us. We stood embraced for what seemed like an hour. Her tears wet my shirt and mine moistened her hair. Finally, our emotions spent, we broke apart. I was invited to stay overnight and continue my journey the next day. I was emotionally spent and accepted the gracious offer with thanks.

After breakfast and some real coffee, I was again on the road for the five hour drive to my parents. I promised to stay in contact with Susan's mom. She really was a beautiful person physically and emotionally. I recognized how much Susan was, or had been, like her mother until Henry. My hate for him grew. 

I called my parents on my cell while on the road crossing the Colorado Utah state line. No one answered at home. I tried dad's cell phone and he answered. He and mom were visiting my brother so I decided to extend my trip on to see my brother and his wife. The reunion would help bring some stability to my new life now that I was without Susan.

I took a motel before driving the last mile on to the apartment my brother and his wife had. My brother was recently back states side from Afghanistan where he had served as a company commander of an Infantry unity. 

After the usual hugs and handshakes and slaps on the back and a kiss on the cheek from mom, I asked them to have a family time together with me in the front room. Since it was again getting along in the day, I suggested we order Pizza delivered along with salads and soft drinks. The order was placed and we gathered as family. The only ones absent was my other brother and his wife.

I told them I had sad news concerning my marriage. Susan and I were divorcing. Mother cried. Dad asked if there was any chance of reconciliation. The whole story had to come out so I began at the beginning with Susan's research project and my trip as a part of my job.

We were interrupted as the Pizza super was delivered. During supper, I continued with the details of Susan's changes. How she had worked on her thesis and her pending degree. Then I told of her pregnancy and how it occurred and how she was ambivalent about her relationship with me and our future. The pain welled up again inside me as the anger and pain conflicted me. Mom cried more and clung to dad. Dad was also emotional but showed it less but his hands trembled and his eyes moistened.

My brother became silent. He sat rigid moving slightly in a stiffened fashion. I could see his military academy and battle field experience attitude taking control. He stood up and walked around in deep thought.

Finally I finished my story. I had left out nothing. The only question came from my brother in the form of a statement. 

"Ethan," he said with quiet but gentle authority, "You and I need some time together. Let's just you and me take a walk." With that he took my hand, pulling me off the couch and we excused ourselves. 

It was early evening so we drove to my motel. There we called the family to tell them where we were and that we would be back in an hour or so.

"Ethan, you are in a war and likely unprepared. I want to tell you how to conduct this battle." My brother took control of the conversation. "There are rules of war to follow if you plan on winning. I know you are going to lose Susan but you don't have to lose the war. Henry is your enemy and he has to be destroyed without your suffering heavy casualties. I don't know what you have planned and frankly don't want to know now. After the war is won, you can tell me."

Continuing his lecture on the conduct of war, "First is to know your enemy. Know his strengths and his weaknesses. Carefully evaluate your own strengths and weaknesses. It is important that you match your strengths to his weaknesses. Do not allow him use of his strengths nor allow him to exploit your weaknesses. Next, you pick the time and place to do battle. Remember the element of surprise is very important. If you can, do what is called a 'surgical strike'. Limit the collateral damage. You don't want innocent people injured. Plan carefully. Keep your plans secret. Cover your steps in preparation. Do not allow emotions to dictate your actions. What you do and how you do it must be done in as short a period of time as possible. Do not get into a protracted battle. Think carefully, plan carefully, have more than enough resources to accomplish success."

He smiled, "I know you already have some ideas. Don't depend on someone else, or for the civil authorities to do your work. Good luck and be very careful. Now, keep this talk private between us, just you and me. Don't tell even mom or dad anything. You are already in the battle so remember these guidelines. Now let's get out of here and back to my place."

The next morning we had breakfast together then mom and dad left to go home. I followed them as I had something hidden in their attic that even they didn't know about. I wanted to retrieve it for future use.

I stayed at home several days, sleeping in my old bedroom and bed from high school days. Mom was recovering. Dad and I had several long talks about my future. Nothing was said about my plans for justice. We just had a few days as family. Then it was time for me to get on with my life.

Mom and dad went to Walmart to pick up some things and I went to the attic, found what I wanted and loaded it into my big SUV. The next day I was on the road again headed home, well not home but back to my apartment. 

My boss had been after me to go on another expedition and I had told him I would go. Being shed of Susan made the trip easier to accept and plan. I told my parents of my impending two month trip back to the equatorial Atlantic off Africa. My trip was not scheduled until I had all my unused accumulated leave time used up. I had up to three months before I had to go. 

Returning to Utah, I put the gun, still in the boxes, in short term storage. I knew there were satellites watching all of us, so I picked up some furniture from my former residence to put into storage along with the boxes with the gun in it. I gained access to Satellite topographical maps of the area of and surrounding the town where Henry lived. These I studied intently.

I wanted him. I wanted to kill him but first he needed a lesson in humility. I also wanted not to go to jail or hang. The more I thought of it, I thought that killing him was to good. He would suddenly just disappear, his light would go out and he would not suffer. I thought of putting the bullet on his penis. I knew I could do that even at a mile but the one shot could kill him. Just a couple of inches and it would and he might bleed to death. Bleeding to death would be a better death for him than just blowing his head off. He would suffer some before dying but I didn't want to kill him yet. Justice had to be applied so that his family and friends knew he had been humiliated and degraded. That was better than any death especially by a head shot. 

Still, he might not fully realize that the shot was from an adversary. I wanted him to know that Susan's husband had done him in. Still, there had to be no way it could ever be proved. I smiled. I had Henry on my mind and soon in my sights.

I was not going to let Susan off without some justice either. This meant contacting a plaintiff's lawyer. I wanted the meanest son-of-a-bitch possible. There were plenty available. My boss recommended one to me. 

I told him I wanted him to threaten the University with a huge law suit for agreeing with Susan's research and the way she did it. I was angry that they had condoned her immoral behavior. I didn't know the law and didn't really care. What I wanted to do was get the attention of the Board of Trustees and President. I figured bad publicity and lots of it would be just what they didn't want. He was a typical lawyer. For a fee he would do almost anything. Anyone can file suit against anybody for any reason in this free country of ours. I had enough money to buy his attention. 




The Fourth Wife Ch. 02



His first letter to the President of the University, with copies to every member of the Board of Trustees got immediate attention. A twenty million dollar lawsuit was something to be avoided. The return letter from the President indicated that Susan's degree was not yet granted. The Board of Trustees and he had not given final approval. I instructed my lawyer to notify the president that the only way to avoid a lawsuit and the ensuing publicity was to have Susan's research rejected in totality. The decision to revoke her thesis and it's research basis had to be final; that meant it could not be subject to review. I had to be totally satisfied. There would be no compromise on my part. 

It was less than two weeks that my lawyer received a copy of a Board of Trustees resolution that had passed unanimously. The resolution directed the president to correct the findings of the department of Social Sciences, reprimand the people involved in approving her research and deny approval of her Degree. There was an additional stipulation, something in legal terms about "with prejudice". My lawyer said that term was unnecessary but meant that she could not use any her research again for academic purposes. The board went further than our demands. They wrote the publisher that had given her an advance indicating that the University's name could not be attached or used in any fashion related to the book. They went further than that by freezing Susan's research grant account so that further withdrawals would be denied. I was satisfied.

Several weeks later I learned that they had not been able to contact Susan to tell her of their decision. They had contacted my lawyer to see if he could provide the President with contact information. He called me. I gave him Susan's divorce lawyers name and address, her mother's address and Henry's address. Susan was not at our former residence. I wondered where she was, not that I cared, but I guess I did care because I was thinking about where she might be and if she were physically safe. I hated what she had done but had concern for her physical safety and the safety of her unborn child, even if it weren't mine. It was not the child's fault.

There was another aspect of my plan which I thought long and hard about before implementing. I was going to leave a message from God to Henry. This was to take the form of a formal document. I used the format of the declaration of independence with a number of "whereas" words. I would quote scripture to intimidate him. This part of my project took some careful on my organization. Bit by bit I organized it, proof read it and edited it several times. This done, I purchased some very expensive linen paper and printed it out using my computer and ink jet printer. The final product looked very formal. I put the pages in a beautiful and expensive holder with each page carefully inserted in plastic liners then bound into a converted wedding picture album. I carefully removed all finger prints. 

I felt sure that with Henry's superstitious nature and his belief in new revelations and visitations from heavenly beings, that this document would intimidate him so much that he would accept his punishment as the will of God. I chuckled and felt good about my subterfuge. I was matching my strengths against his weaknesses. My brothers good advice was being heeded.

I now turned my energy more toward my planned trips. One was to visit Henry. That trip was to be continued on to Africa without returning to the city from Henry's encounter with the avenging angel. I had the honor of being that avenging angel. I would appear from out of no where and disappear without a trace. I loved my plan but knew that any screw up could lead to disaster for me.

For success, I had to study and practice. Everything had to be done in total privacy. Having access to the internet made the private acquisition of information so much easier than going to a library where my activities could ultimately be traced.

I studied the maps and knew exactly where Henry's farm land was. I knew what crops he planted and when he tilled the soil, planted, visited and harvested. The satellite photos available to the oil exploration companies were a hundred times better than those available to the general public. As a geologist, I knew topography and the precision interpretation of satellite information. The visual spectrum was aided by infrared images and precision landscape heights to within inches I could even measure the depth of tractor tire marks in the fields. I could see Henry and knew where he liked to rest out of the sun. There was a single tree at the edge of his wheat field whose roots apparently had found a permanent water source deep in a crack in the surface. Nearby was a small ridge, just 8 feet high but perfect for hiding behind. There was an access road on the other side of the small rocky ridge. The dirt road led to a paved county road a couple of miles distant. The set up was perfect. I was picking the battlefield. It was to my liking. 

All this took several weeks of intense planning and study. 

In addition to topography, my studies involved human anatomy and certain surgical techniques. I spent hours and hours studying anatomy, certain aspects of human physiology and certain surgical techniques.

I learned that if both testicles were removed, most men would lose their sexual drive. If only one testicle were removed, the remaining testicle would still produce enough testosterone to keep the man's aggression and sexual drive intact. I wanted Henry to keep his desire for sexual gratification but I wanted to removed his ability to satisfy his needs. Thus he would live with sexual frustration. He would keep his high sexual energy but not be able to satisfy his sexual appetite. I smiled to myself. Henry stole my wife who had sexually satisfied me. Now I was going to steal his method of sexual satisfaction. Tit for tat and an eye for an eye. I liked my plan but danger was a constant warning to me. I had no desire to go to prison. If I was apprehended, that was a definite possibility. That threat honed my planning to precision.

I made multiple visits to a variety of stores buying what seemed like a storehouse of supplies. Actually I finally had acquired only a handful of items and supplies. I had purchased some make up things from a theatrical supply house from the internet. This included a full long gray beard. Some special shoes, three sizes to big cam from a thrift shop.

One morning my planning was interrupted by my lawyer. Susan had signed the divorce papers and was not contesting the divorce. I didn't even have to appear in court. The papers were filed and the mandatory sixty day time began. My lawyer had told her lawyer of the University's decision but he already knew and had told Susan. Apparently she had lost it. She had really come unglued at the seams upon hearing that news. She had lost her precious degree, her research had been trashed and she was a single pregnant woman with a child soon to be born out of wedlock. 

I talked to her mother who told me Susan had been devastated. She asked me if I had had a hand in the University's decision. I told her that I certainly did. She should tell Susan that I had instigated that adverse decision as a retribution for her infidelity and five months of sexless marriage. I told her mother how I hated hurting her by hurting Susan. There is always collateral damage and I truly regretted Susan's mom getting hit by the fall out flack from that bomb. Still, it was Susan who had initiated the cascade of dastardly deeds.

Our residence was on the market and sold easily. We divided the equity money equally as agreed to in the divorce papers. Susan didn't want to live there. I didn't care where she was going to live. She might be allowed to live with her mother. As for me, I could decide later where I was going to hang out.

The strangest thing about all this was that I had lost my desire for sex. My energy was totally consumed on my project. I thought, this must have been how Susan felt working on her thesis. I hoped my urges would return but was not concerned actually. Even I was not interested in the occasional hand job. Susan had been my one and only woman. I never desired anyone else and still didn't. I just didn't desire her anymore either. 

During all this time I regularly checked in to the office and even did some pre-trip planning with my boss. Our surveying of the eastern Atlantic potential oil fields was not yet complete. My expertise was needed again in Africa in the near future. I knew in my mind that, if carefully executed, this was to be my perfect alibi, providing I needed one. 

At this point, I had to take my geek friend into my confidence. That worried me but I had to do it. I told him of my plan. He almost laughed himself silly. Then said, "let's get with it." 

With the help of up to date photos of each of us and his connections through his former FBI contacts and to the black market, he obtained blank authentic US Passports. He also got authentic looking certificates and blanks for ID's. From these he made us fake drivers licenses and passports with his name and my picture and my signature of his name. He made a passport with my picture and his name. Thus we each had two passports. One was authentic and one with pictures and signatures reversed. Now we both had fake passports and fake drivers licenses along with our valid ones.

While all this was going on, I assembled all the supplies I could ever need. I purchased these using cash only at pet supply stores, hobby shops, theatrical and outdoor supply stores and medical suppliers over the internet. I had to use a credit card for internet purchases so I kept these at a minimum and with no pattern of purchases. The most difficult was obtaining the ammunition for the gun I had sneaked in from Africa. 

I went into the wilderness of central Utah for target practice with the gun I had never fired before. I quickly became very accurate. Old skills can be reacquired in a short time. It was like riding a bicycle, just need practice.

My plan was coming together.

I spent some quality time with my geek friend coordinating our timing and our international flights. We had to meet in South Africa. These plans

came together rather easily.

I packed all my supplies into my big SUV and drove to Colorado. I rented a temporary storage facility in which to work and store my SUV. Using my fake Colorado drivers license, I rented an old nondescript automobile using cash. From that time onward, I wore gloves. I bought four used tires. These were installed on the "rent a wreck" car I had. The other tires were stored in the temporary rental storage facility. Everything was paid in cash. Thanks to small monetary gifts, even the sales were not recorded. 

I purchased a prepaid cell phone using my fake Colorado license and cash. I called my geek friend and gave him my cell phone number. He had also purchased a throw away cell phone. Our calls would be hard to check on if it ever came to that.

I was still officially on vacation so nobody was checking on my coming and going.

My geek friend was now ready to help me with the deception which would provide me with my perfect alibi. I was going to be in Africa when Henry met with his injured antagonist. We were set for action,

Timing would be crucially important. 

I loaded all my needed equipment and supplies into the rental car. I rechecked everything. I had the gun, ammo, surgical supplies, camping equipment (desert camouflage), food and lots of water, documents, money and passports. I checked with my geek buddy and he was ready and eager.

Now we waited until my company purchased E-tickets for me to go to Africa. I was scheduled to leave on the 10th of the month. I had just a couple of days for everything to come together. I already was packed for the Africa part of my trip. My friend took my Africa luggage. All I took was a change of clothes and personal toiletries.

On my own, I purchased tickets to leave from Colorado. My personal departure would be on the twelfth from Denver using my friends name and ID. From there I would fly to South Africa and meet my geek friend. He would fly from the city to New York and thence to South Africa using the passport with my name and his face. He would board on the tenth. He was to keep all receipts from airport purchases to later give to me. From South Africa, he would fly back to the USA using his own authentic passport. I would have arrived using my fake passport but would continue on to Angola using my authentic passport. My friend would take all my luggage. My friend would only be gone for four days. He would hardly be missed. 

On the tenth, I made my move. My friend called me after boarding. My alibi was secure. My prey was in my sights. Justice was on the way to southern Utah. Destiny, Henry and I had a meeting. I wore gloves so no finger prints were ever left as evidence. As I neared the targeted area. I changed clothes into well washed coveralls, a red long sleeve shirt, nondescript hat, full fake beard and shoes which I had filed off the outside rear of one heal. I put in the brown contact lenses. 

I drove through Henry's town making sure that several people saw me in the Utah license plated rent a wreck. I had stolen a Utah license and saved the Colorado license plate. I scouted the area thoroughly. I believe I saw Susan but couldn't be sure. I hoped it was her because I wanted her know how justice was applied. I left without engaging anyone in conversation.

That night I took up my predetermined spot about 20 yards from Henry's favorite resting spot under the only tree of any size. Carefully I inspected everything, using the desert camouflaged items to cover me. My supplies were with me. I calibrated for the last time the exact dosage for the dart. 

Guess I forgot to tell you the gun was a dart gun used to bring wild African game down for transport to new habitat. I figured Henry would weigh about 280 pounds. I loaded the dart syringe for a 300 pound animal. 

I waited. I had my white robe on and was perfectly camouflaged under the tent. I looked at my document to Henry from God. I knew I had him at one of his weak points. 

 The sun was very hot. I drank lots of water. It was hot under the camouflage tarpaulin. As I had predicted, Henry came out to work the wheat field. As I had predicted, near noon he rested under the tree abut 20 yards from my hiding place. I took aim at his gluteus maximums and with a bang and a swoosh the dart was firmly implanted in his buttock. He jumped and swatted the dart off his butt. It was too late. 

I rapidly climbed out of my tent. Now I was clothed in all white with no beard. I wanted him to see my face clearly. I was dressed as much as possible as I thought Henry would think an angel would appear. I had only about twenty seconds before he would be unconscious. I rushed over to him.

I called out to Henry. God how I hoped the tranquilizer worked for he could have torn me limb from limb but I was fully prepared. I had chosen the weapons for my war with Henry. I had chosen the battlefield and the timing. I had the element of surprise. Everything was going as planned.

"Henry," I yelled at him to his face. "God has heard the cries and prayers of Ethan Allen, Susan's real husband. You have sinned. I am the avenging angel to administer God's punishment. Henry tried to stand but fell to his knees. His eyes were wide with fear. He tried to speak but couldn't. I came right into his face so he would see me clearly and remember me as the last thing he would see before becoming a changed man. His eyes glazed over. In a matter of a few seconds he was out like a light. No one had heard or seen the unfolding of this dastardly deed. I was not a violent man. Henry was unconscious when the painful beginning of his torture began.

Henry was mine. I gloated. If I had given him to big a dose and he died that would be alright but not what I wanted.

Hurriedly, I descended on him. I was like a spider on her prey. I unsnapped and pulled his coveralls down to his ankles. No time to take his boots off. Next down was his all white cotton underpants. We were under the tree and out of sight of road or house. I bent his knees outward. His genitals were perfectly accessible. I put a tight ligature around the base of his penis after pulling lots of free skin back to the base of his penis. I wanted him to heal but without his weapon of sexual assault.

My sharp #15 blade surgical knife sliced through his penis, leaving less than an half an inch. The ligature prevented any significant bleeding. I laid his large penis on his chest temporarily. I poured ten percent solution of Silver Chloride on the stump of his penis as an astringent. Quickly now, I applied another ligature to his testicles. Another slice through his scrotum and I pinched the left testicle out. This was just how we did it to young pigs when I was on the farm in Colorado as a youth. A clean cotton string isolated his testicle. Pulling the string tight, I put triple knots in it and wrapped it again to hold the cord secure. The knife separated his testicle from its attachments. Again I poured the astringent solution over the base and cut the strings short. The scrotum fell into approximation with only a little help. He was going to live the rest of his life without a penis and with only one testicle. I was satisfied. I took his penis as a prize. I put it in a plastic bag with formalin solution as a preservative. I removed both ligatures. There was practically no bleeding. All my supplies were carefully stuffed into another plastic bag. 

I tied his testicle around his neck. I wanted to stuff it in his mouth but figured it might kill him by aspiration or gagging. I didn't want him dead yet. I wanted him to enjoy the new freedom he had from such a large heavy organ and two testosterone factories. I wondered what Susan would think. I chuckled. This served both of them right. I was pleased to serve justice with such finesse. 

I wanted to be gone when he woke up so I didn't wait to gloat in person. Delaying gratification is a mark of maturity. I was mature.

I collected everything from my hide out then smoothed out the dirt. 

The last was to leave the written testament to the avenging angels visitation. This I placed between his legs with his testicle proudly centered. It appeared as if the testicle was being served on the white gleaming plastic book.

I was sure news of this would circulate in the town rapidly. It would have to get to me via some other avenue as I certainly knew nothing about mayhem in the Utah desert.

With this, I carefully gathered up all my stuff in two large black plastic trash bag. I put my coveralls back along with my beard. I made sure my size 13 footprints were easily seen. I checked to see if everything was picked up. The site was clear of everything. If an investigation ensued, I wanted the physical evidence to point to a large slightly crippled man. I wanted the avenging angel to have the face of Ethan Allen.

I forced an exaggerated limp back to the old rent a wreck about a quarter of a mile across a field to the back road. Everything was loaded into the trunk. I checked to be sure everything was on board. No one was in sight. I was off. 

I had a quiet and very satisfying trip back toward Colorado. 

All my used clothing, the gun and beard were soaked in boy scout water (kerosene), burned in the desert and buried. The car had the original tires returned and I turned it in. The Colorado license plate was put back on and the stolen plate buried. The four old tires were sold by a bearded man in eastern Utah who wore gloves. 

I took a taxi to the airport and boarded for South Africa using the fake passport and ID. My SUV remained in storage.




The Fourth Wife Ch. 02



On the flight to South Africa I reviewed again the message from the avenging angel (me) to Henry. Of course I used 17th century English to make it authentic since his scriptures were King James Version style. It went something like this.

Page one: Thou shalt not covet thy neighbors wife.

Page two: Thou hast sinned. The devil sent his messenger to thee and thou hast listened to him rather than to me (God).

Page three: Thou shalt test the spirits to see if they be true. Thou didst not test that spirit. Therefore thou wast led astray to lust after Ethan Allen's wife.

Page four: Thou hadst carnal knowledge to which I forbade you.

Page five: I have heard the cries for justice from my servant Ethan Allen.

Page six: Vengeance is mine, thus saith the Lord of Hosts.

Page seven: If thine eye offend thee, pluck it out, it is better to be blind than to suffer the pangs of death in hell.

Page eight: My avenging angel hast saved thee from eternal damnation by removing thy offending part.

Page nine. Accept thy judgment of thy God lest I return in anger and pluck thine eyes out that thou sin no more by lusting.

I slept well on my flight. I was at rest. I would occasionally feel my back pack and my trophy. I smiled. A part of Henry would always be with me. Somehow I was not angry or disturbed by that thought.

I met my friend in South Africa. We exchanged pleasantries and I gave him a large bonus. I was then off to Angola on schedule and he back to the states. We disposed of our cell phones in Africa.

Henry's penis was a magnificent trophy.

My work kept me at sea for the next two months.

After I returned to the states, I called Susan's mother as one of many phone calls to friends and family. Susan had returned home depressed. She confessed that Henry had become increasingly violent after someone had cut his penis off. She was afraid for her life. The other wives had no where to go. They thought they were caught. She had encouraged them to come with her into the "evil" outside door. They just couldn't.

My brothers told me they were glad that justice had been done when I told them what I had been told. I neither confirmed or denied any part in the mayhem in the Utah desert.

I attended the funeral and mourned my geek friend's death of an accidental over dose of alcohol and anxiety pills. I guess we just partied to heavily on night. How was I to know he had begun to take anxiety pills. 

I gave up on thinking of killing Henry. A living hell was far superior to the quiet rest of death. Anyway, I might get caught the next time. After all, I was not a violent man. 

  RealDoc

Sequel: Susan was witness to Henry's humiliation. Henry survived but was never the man around town any more. Henry never filed charges. He accepted his condition as God's punishment for lusting after another man's wife. Susan left Henry and returned to live close to her mother who helped raise her child. Both of them taught school. Susan never got her PhD. I thought seriously about re-establishing communications with Susan but I could not bare the thought of helping to raise Henry's progeny. She never remarried. She followed her mother's footsteps in life. On what would have been our tenth anniversary, Susan received a shriveled well preserved human phallus. There was no return address. I thought it appropriate to return the trophy to the one who had once worshipped it. I had no need of it anymore. I had a loving wife and three children that took up all my time. I had no need or desire to remember the past. In war there are no winners. Some lose more than others. I lost Susan. Henry lost his genitals and Susan. Susan lost her PhD, me and Henry. You, dear reader, can decide who lost most.

Please provide feedback. 
Another story is in the pipe line.



The Fourth Wife



This behavior was a radical impact to our relationship. I told her I was not against her going back to teaching high school but she should have at least talked to me about it prior to making that decision. I asked her where was she applying for a teaching job. She avowed that she had not made that decision yet. There is only one high school in our little community. The next closest is a distant 30 miles. 

"Susan," I commented, "if you plan to teach here again, you definitely need to talk to the principal or school board soon. Any position available might otherwise get filled before you even apply."

She said she would do that at the appropriate time but for now she was "too busy. First things first," she said.

"Susan? Are you too busy to make even one phone call or two just to see if a position is available this fall? We have to plan ahead. Do you want me to find out for you?"

She told me in no uncertain terms not to get involved in her affairs. She could handle things by herself without my "interference," as she put it. 

"In my own time," she said with finality. Nothing apparently mattered now to her except her thesis completion and degree acquisition.

I felt she was not seeing herself, or me perhaps, as an integral part of each other's lives. This attitude of forcing me out of her decision making concerned me. Did she not realize how integral a part she is of us?" Her decisions would be affecting me and I didn't have a vote. 

Time seems to have a way of continuing without asking me. We continued superficial dialogue and a little about her peculiar need and intense desire to rush her degree to early completion. 

Her stomach quit bothering her, health improved but our marital relationship continued to deteriorate. We grew increasingly distant.

I had a busy job as a research geologist. My days were filled with meetings, reports and trips to the home office. I had another of country trip for which I needed to plan. Susan wouldn't talk about future dates and plans. We had always coordinated my trips with her. Now I could not make plans with her input. Our life together was coming apart. My life was interesting and happy other than my deteriorating home situation with my wife. 

We rocked along rather precariously. I tiptoed around her emotionally and literally. She was absorbed in another world in which I had no place nor was I invited into her new world. In fact, quite the opposite; I was both directly and indirectly excluded. My anxiety thickened. I began to have stomach pains. My doctor prescribed a stomach acid inhibitor but it was only partly successful. My gut was being wrenched apart not by acid but by anxiety. 

I need for my life to be organized. I hate surprises. I need for things to be discussed, agreed to and planned carefully. Sure, we need to have contingency plans but these need to be part of the planning. Now, my wife was turning my world into a morass of unknowns. I don't deal well with just going with the flow and letting things happen. 

Was my loving wife abandoning me for her precious academic career? All this seemed entirely unnecessary to me. How long could I endure uncertainty? I was fearful I could crash anytime. Neither of us used alcohol or drugs so I retreated into playing and practicing my cello to fill my emptiness, loneliness and rejection. In short, I was miserable. I couldn't even see when all this was going to end.

In the evening supper times, I would frequently ask her about her progress that day and about her daily activities. I made this a point when I had been gone for the day. Our conversations were always superficial and banal. 

One evening I decided to again probe into her living conditions while she had been on-site with her research. 

"Susan, just what were the details of your living arrangements? Did you have a separate bed room?" I probed.

"Ethan," she only used my formal name when she was irritated. How many times do I have to tell you I'll tell you everything when the burden of this thesis is off my back. Now quit making life harder for me while I have so much to do. Just don't ask me again," Susan practically yelled her answer at me. 

"Damn it, Ethan, you're really making me very angry with all these questions when you know I won't answer them until my PhD is assured. I've told you that time and time again but you won't leave it be. Just get off my back about all this. You know I'm stressed out as it is trying to get this thesis completed. Your hassling me just slows me down." 

She walked off in an over-exaggerated stilted walk. Looking back over her shoulder, she spit out, "Now you have made me angry and I won't be able to concentrate on my thesis tonight." She disappeared into our (well, hers now) den and locked me out.

She had spoken those exact words a few evenings ago. My patience was wearing very thin very rapidly. My attitude toward her became increasingly belligerent. My anger was not just subtle anymore. Nevertheless, I had to be content with no wife and no information about her life. Time kept moving right on and the days became weeks which merged into months. I just couldn't understand. Creeping suspicions of future marital disaster invaded my mind and scraped open sores on my psyche. Would you have concerns like mine?

Her standard and pat answer was always, "Unexpected changes in my methodology have made me change lots of things."

She did say, "I have obtained some totally new information requiring extensive and necessary changes. Everything seemed to need to be changed and discussed with my thesis committee. The changes have complicated everything for me." 

"Susan, can you not tell me at least what this new information was? What exactly were all these unexpected changes that require so much of your attention? You know, the one's that make me excluded from your life? Sweetheart, if I may call you that, how did you go about getting this new and revealing information you speak of? Surely you can tell me, your trusted husband."

Her reply was to the effect that she was worried that I might get all emotional if she were to tell me all the details. I might get mad at the people involved in the family and community. My emotional feedback would have a negative effect on her recording her true and unique feelings and experiences. Understanding any of this escaped me totally. I could give a rat's ass for those people. I already abhorred what I knew about their incestuous and polygamous relationships. How could her telling me more about their family and community life make me anymore disdainful or incite any new anger or more emotional response. 

I was already burned out even thinking about their odd lifestyle. I was glad these people were stuck away in a distant corner of nowhere. I wanted nothing to do with them. I think I was beginning to hate them. They had stolen my sensuous wife and turned her into an ogre. My anger and resentment grew for her seemingly unnecessary secrecy. She stuck with her explanations and I stuck with my anxiety. 

I wondered out loud to her that I would only get emotional if she had been caught up in their polygamy personally, not just observing it. She would not reply. She said she used her intelligent ingenuity to obtain the information in what might be seen as 'unconventional' methodology. Her explanation raised more questions than it answered and certainly added significantly to my stress level.

I told that her refusal to reveal her activities were more stressful and a source of more anger and frustration to me than if she were to just be totally truthful and tell me everything. Anyway that is how I assessed the situation. 

"All will be revealed and discussed in full at the proper time which is soon approaching." We had been loggerheads now about five months. 

From the very day I had returned, she refused sex with me. Our sex life had not just deteriorated, it had died. We have not had sex since the day before we both left. It was after that tender and satisfying intercourse that we had lay in each other's arms and again sworn our love and fidelity. We had had great sex three or four times a week before this fiasco. Our sex was always tender and gentle and mutually fulfilling. She made suggestions as to how I might please her more. I always did these. I made requests of her and she always complied. 

Neither of us wanted for anything regarding sex within the bonds of marriage. We both enjoyed the teasing and foreplay of the romantic encounters. We had snuggle times after sex. Not infrequently we would go for a second bout before retiring for the night. I miss all of this a lot. I just hated to resort to hand jobs for relief.

I couldn't see how depriving me (her confidential life mate and loving husband) of my rightful access to her body could taint her research. If it could, I began to wonder just what all had her research entailed. If sex with her husband could contaminate her 'research', then it seemed logical that sex had to have been a part of her research. We had agreed and promised at our marriage that monogamy was to be sacred to us. We had agreed several times to be faithful. I was doing my part by refusing the many opportunities I had both here and abroad. 

Susan and I had even talked about how these groups practiced multiple wife families before she went on her research trip. We had joked about her becoming a third or fourth wife 'for research purposes.' I had expressed to her how abhorrent that practice is. She knew that I could never live that way. I also remember telling her that to listen to the wives was one thing but to actually experience that role would not be acceptable to me in any fashion whatsoever. She agreed totally before she left. I had trusted her implicitly.

Since I was so sure of her fidelity to me before she went to southern Utah, I had had no reason to have any fear or even suspicions neither of infidelity nor of her research methods. I really felt secure in allowing her a solo visit to the community she had targeted.

But now our sex life had died. Why would she not have sex with me anymore? We did kiss and renew our vows of our everlasting love for each other but she allowed no sexual contact and refused to allay my fears of her infidelity. Other than some less-than-just-polite kisses, her body had been off limits since she came back.

She had moved my books and computer into a corner in the large dining room and had bought several large book cases and file cabinets. These nicely matching book cases were stationed adjacent to my computer desk in the dining room. Effectively she had moved my work into the dining room. I had quite a bit of research findings to compile into reports to my company superiors. She could, and did, lock me out. 

After a few more days, I just outright asked her if she had participated in any sexual way that might have a negative on our marriage. Had she kept her promises of sexual fidelity within our marriage? She really got hostile and defensive, and then in an angry outburst said she would not discuss anything about her research until her dissertation was completed and accepted by the university. I was not to ask her again. Now I knew I had a really major marital problem. No denying it now. Would you agree? 

I actually expressed anger and outrage (this being quite unusual for me) that she would be gone for two months and not at least reassure me that she had been true to me and our marriage. Her body language and her facial expressions told me that this was a very sensitive and emotional issue with her. Yet she would not relent in her secrecy. I told her I could see that my questions were evoking emotional responses that she averred she wanted to avoid. 

Seems her secrecy was provoking more emotional turmoil that just sharing. That is if there was nothing serious to hide. My concerns were now almost out of control. My stomach was growling in constant turmoil. I began to look forward to going to work and regretting to have to come back to my own home. She was 'home' to me but she was not mine it seemed. She belonged to her degree-seeking. How would you feel? 

She and I have an otherwise happy marriage, or at least we did have and maybe could in the future. I wondered if other marriages suffered as ours had when one partner was working on a thesis. I hadn't heard of it but then again I did know that her doctoral thesis must be one hell of a project. Her self-imposed time constraints made everything worse.

After one discouraging and anger filled encounter I had had it.

"Susan," I angrily spouted out, "it looks like you have destroyed our sharing, confidentiality and trusting. I think our marriage is very close to past history for us and you are entirely to blame." 

I kept berating her about everything she was doing to me. Finally I just stomped out and drove around to nowhere hoping my anger would dissipate in the cool night air. 

As I drove around I tried to get my thoughts out in front of my emotions. She has been telling me that she loves me and hopes I will love her also. I kept reassuring her that I do still love her but I hated how she was treating me. Communications is the key to a relationship and she won't talk to me about so many things in her life now. She won't reassure me about her marital fidelity. 

Why? Did she have an affair? Did she do more sexual stuff in order to get her research done? All I knew was that this was putting a terrible strain on me and my marriage. Do I have to prepare for single life again? My mind just couldn't emerge from the morass of my anxiety and emotional turmoil. I determined that this turmoil would end sooner than later. If she wouldn't end it, I would. I thought of the pain of moving out and getting on with my life without her. I couldn't yet visualize life without her. 

I decided not to ask her anymore but to find out what I could on my own. Perhaps someone at the university could help me: but who? 

I began to reflect more and more. Looking back, I began to summarize for myself the changes I had seen and experienced. Her strange dress and lack of makeup were more than just odd. Her not using her favorite perfume was not like the Susan I knew. Her refusal for sex almost five months was most alarming. I hated the radical changes in her behavior. I was even beginning to hate the one I had loved. From then on she expressed further interest in what I did or how I felt. 

There was no cuddling, teasing or sex that night or any subsequent nights. Naturally that brought about a lot interest on my part, not even considering the anger for her boorish behavior. 

I began a new way of interacting with her. A way that was distasteful, distressing, anxiety producing and increasingly barrier building.

I avoided asking her about anything.

Routinely she locked the door when she was typing. Therefore I had less opportunity to confront her. This was something new. I had never been locked out of anywhere in my house. She had a headset with microphone and earphones.

She explained this was needed to communicate with her major professor at considerably less expense than by phone. Her campus was only a mile or so from my headquarters, closer to the eastern edge of the city.

She also said she used her e-mail a lot to write to her professor. I had to agree that e-mail was cheaper and faster than ground snail mail, even though it was only fifty miles to campus for her. 

This all made good sense to me except why I was locked out until she was off the computer. That made me suspicious. I told her that I was really uncomfortable with her locking me out of her life like she did. She would smile and tell me that she just couldn't have any interference when she doing her research. I could understand only some of that. I had lingering doubts. I told her I felt she was not being open to me as we had always promised to be. She dismissed my concerns as trivial and nothing to be concerned about. Her refusal to be open and then to say it was not important was totally discordant, totally new in our marriage. I really took offense and told her that. Susan continued to downplay it even with my vigorous objections.

Another change had occurred. She was now keeping everything on her computer under password protection. I asked her about this and she got angry at me for me poking around on HER computer. 

"You have your own computer so you don't need to be messing around on mine," was her standard answer. She really got touchy about that. I guess the academic types are paranoid about their research identities. I could see nothing to get excited about if she had nothing to hide. I told her that and she really lit into me about distrusting her. She said I might mess up her research by accidentally deleting something. I asked her if she didn't back up her files at least every few hours in case the computer crashed. Susan had no answer but just turned away, indicating that the conversation was over. 

Why was her 'research' so confidential? I wasn't going to tell anyone and let someone else know of her findings, that is, steal her research. She just wouldn't budge on the secrecy thing. In fact my concerns were adding up to a major problem for me. She wouldn't acknowledge any marital problem, or any problem for that matter. She was just closed to me.

Too many things had changed. We just weren't communicating like we used to do. That was my biggest concern; everything else paled when compared to the lack of sharing. There was an intangible barrier of distrust developing on my part. I told her so and she dismissed it as nothing. But it was everything to me. I tried to tell her that but it seemed like it didn't sink in. Something about her had changed radically. I could sense it and see it. It was painfully evident to me.

"Susan," I told her," you have changed so much since going out on your research project." I was being emphatic. Her replies were all the same standard nonsense. She would just say that now she had to get her research completed. She had worked hard and long and now her degree was only a few months away. She reassured me that everything would be okay "real soon."

"Susan," I responded, "I need to be your husband now. I need you as my wife now, not at some future unknown time. When is this 'future time'? When will we be a couple again? Tell me, Susan!" 

"Honey, just hold on." She avowed how her dissertation was most difficult. She told me that the research had taken an unexpected "twist" (whatever that meant). This change had complicated her research which meant the extra month and the extra time on the computer to reorganize her thesis and its defense. She would not give me an actual time frame for when this strange behavior would return to normal. She would reassure me her thesis was almost completed. Then she would disappear back into her locked room. Real reassurance that satisfied me just wasn't forthcoming. I had never distrusted her before, but I never had cause either. My concerns deepened about what had happened. I was becoming increasingly suspicious and paranoid. 

All during this time, I was commuting back and forth to the main office in the big city. It was a pleasant drive there and back. The roads were in top shape and, in the city; streets were so wide that traffic was never a problem. When not commuting, I was reviewing the reams of data or on my computer completing the entry of our research findings. Making reports seemed endless. Sometimes I just surfed or got my cello out to play. 

On one of my numerous 50 mile trips to my main office, I suggested to my boss that we set up computer-to-computer voice communications between the home office and the various field units to include those of us who were commuting to work. This suggestion was met with approval and I was provided with the passwords. After installation this cut down the need for the less important but time consuming trips. As a result I had more home time. It was time to exercise and practice the cello.




The Fourth Wife



I also commented to my boss about the changes in my wife's behavior since her return. He suggested I talk with her major professor at the University across town since she was working closely with him. That seemed like a very good idea. It also coincided with my own previous thoughts. I immediately called his office and spoke with the departmental secretary. She set me up with an appointment a couple of days later, on Thursday of that week. I asked the secretary to tell him it is was about my wife's doctoral research and kindly not to tell her I was coming to consult with him. She assured me that all his appointments were confidential. I drove home that evening feeling somewhat better.

Since my concerns were piling up and I was beginning to seek outside help, I decided to do some inside mystery solving.

First on my list was to check our bank accounts, savings accounts and credit cards for unusual expenditures. These were easily accessed via my computer while my wife was on hers. The only unusual thing was that there were no charges for eight weeks while she was in southern Utah on her research project. Perhaps, I wondered, she had a university account to draw down on; a grant budget. The professor could enlighten me on that when we met. She did have credit expenses for the bus trip down and back. There were no other credit card charges and no withdrawals. Likewise nothing had been taken from our joint accounts in the way of cash before leaving.

Second on my list was to invade her privacy on her computer. I did not know how to do this. A quick telephone call to our resident techy computer geek in the home office solved that question. He said it would be much easier and faster for him to bring the programs needed and he would do the searches for me. He was convinced he could do in two minutes what would take me two weeks to do. We both laughed and he said it would not take long, perhaps a few minutes more than two minutes. I knew he was right and arranged a consultation fee. 

During my trip the following day to the home office, I had lunch with my geek friend. I wanted to get to know him a little better. During the lunch conversation, he told me he had worked for the FBI in their identity theft unit. As a result, he had numerous contacts within the FBI plus lots of "know how" about identity issues. He enjoyed being an electronic Sherlock Holmes. Now his job was quite different. Among other things he was in charge of corporate security such as background checks, monitoring and keeping safe the research findings that our teams of geologists, like the one I was in charge of, sent to the home office.

Next we only needed a time when my wife would be out of our house for a few hours. I really hated feeling like I had to snoop around to find information that Susan should have readily shared with me. Her absence was not long in arriving. Susan soon told me she had to meet with her thesis committee the next week. She had almost completed her thesis. She would be gone all day Tuesday. Now that was the Tuesday after I would have the appointment with her major professor on the prior Thursday, which was day after tomorrow. I called my geek friend and he promised to drive down that Tuesday morning. 

Nothing changed. No sex. No real kisses. No signs of her disliking me or avoiding me other than what was now common. Just a blank for interaction and sharing was all I now got from her.

What had become common now was that she would not show me even the outline of her sexy body. She always had on an oversize opaque robe, full length tank dress or her full length night gown. She didn't even wear the jeans she had liked so much. Oh, well, I thought, I am going to be patient for a while longer while I gather more information. I will soon confront her and force her to tell me everything or I was going to divorce her. Fortunately we had had no children.

I met Professor Young in his third floor spacious office. He was very pleasant and quite at ease. He offered me a drink of water which I accepted with a smile and expressions of thanks for his time. It seems his religion prohibits tea and coffee. It was nothing to me. Several questions were put to the professor. 

First I verified that he was indeed my wife's major professor and primary thesis advisor. He was chair of her thesis committee even though he is department chair. Being chair is an administrative position, not academic. 

Second I learned that my wife did have an account for expenses for her research, however she had to show receipts for reimbursement or show travel mileage on her automobile. No, he didn't know if she had submitted any expenses but his secretary could get a full accounting in just minutes. 

He called his secretary over the intercom and asked her to get my wife's grant account ready to give to me later. I asked him about her statement that her research had taken an unexpected twist which required major revisions of her thesis. He stood and looked out the window for a moment before answering. It was true there were some unexpected happenings. Yes, she had used some unconventional methodology but her circumstances had required the changes. Susan and I should talk about what that all entailed. He didn't want to be the one to tell me about it. 

I told him she wouldn't share that with me but had promised to do so once her PhD was assured.

"Yes," he replied, "Her changes had required quite a lot of revisions but all the committee members had expressed strong support for her research now that it was done. Susan's actual on-site time seemed a little long but variations like that are not unusual in doctoral level research. You should not read too much if anything into such a time extension. The committee would not have accepted her methodology a priori" 

He stared out the window, not looking at me. Finally he turned saying, "Speaking as a father and as a husband now, not a professor, I need to tell you that you and Susan have to have an in-depth and rational discussion bout everything that occurred while she was doing her research." He was sure we were going to have lots to consider as a couple. He told me how important forgiveness is in a marriage and suggested that I might need to do a lot of this. My anxiety and suspicion level increased exponentially. 

I told him I knew she was meeting with her thesis committee next week and hoped that all would go well so she could get back to being normal with me. He told me he had gone over her research several times. Her committee presentation and subsequent final orals would most likely go smoothly. He anticipated no academic problems from the committee. He said he thought that her degree would be granted this spring. 

I told him of her ultra conservative dress. He had already noted that and seemed a little amused. He thought she was going a little overboard in identifying with her research community but still I should not make too much of it. His attempts to calm my fears were not working.

I asked if she had been using her audio set up with communicating with him or other committee members. He said yes of course. All of the faculty and graduate students had them installed on their computers. Certainly voice communications via computers was common and inexpensive. Communicating with any of her thesis committee was not permitted outside the formal group meetings, of which the next was next week.

I had only one other question for him. Did he know of her living arrangements while she was on-site? I knew there were no motels within ten or so miles and that she had not taken her car. She could not commute. He said she would be presenting and defending all her findings and methodology with the committee next week. Her living arrangements would certainly be part of her final presentation. She certainly was at liberty, from his standpoint, to tell me anything she wanted. He was not at liberty to discuss personal things like that without her consent. 

He thought it somewhat strange and unusual that she had asked him not to talk to me about her living arrangements. He had no personal or academic interests in anything Susan and I talked about. He was obviously aware of my anxiety. He told me that doctoral candidates were almost always paranoid about keeping their research secret until the committee had approved it for publication. He went on to say that her total secrecy from me was certainly highly unusual. 

I prepared to leave by thanking him. He inquired more about my own academic background. Upon learning of my summa cum laude graduation from a famous university in Colorado and my subsequent master's degree, he encouraged me to pursue my own PhD at his university. The chair of the geology department was a good friend of his so he was always looking for highly qualified candidates. I could sense the recruitment and thanked him but felt that if one PhD dissertation could stress our marriage like hers had then another would surely destroy us as a couple. 

He smiled and said, "Not every candidate finds their research as difficult personally or takes it as personally as Susan has."

We shook hands and parted in a friendly manner.

As I was leaving, his secretary gave me a file of my wife's financial account activity for the past year. She told me that this was confidential information and should not be shared with anyone except my wife. The secretary was sure my wife had her account all this information stored in her computer already as Susan had submitted everything electronicallyAs I drove back home, my mind was a whirlwind of concerned activity. My suspicions had multiplied exponentially. Professor Young had done nothing to quiet my anxiety. In fact my paranoia seemed to be justified now, based on our discussion. Still there was no proof of infidelity. The likelihood seemed to be increasing and was highly suggestive of that possibility. The withholding seemingly harmless information from me, making me draw my own conclusions resulted in suspicion and paranoia. There was no air tight case for infidelity yet. 

Arriving home I put the folder in my desk drawer until I was in the mood. I needed heavy exercise, a hamburger then my cello.

I did not mention my trip to see her professor. This was the first time that I actually withheld some important information from her. I felt badly because now I was participating in this infidelity of sharing. I hated to do that but could not find a way to disclose it without showing my hand prematurely. We talked of little nothings. I was really getting concerned about how our marriage was going. She asked me to understand the enormous pressure she was under. I told her it was of her own making. She disagreed. 

I told her dressing in long dresses, refusing to let me see her body and her refusal of sex was leading me to believe that she had been unfaithful in some major way. Those behaviors could have nothing to do with her academic aspirations. It was becoming a major issue with me and was wearing my nerves raw. 

"Susan, this has to change or our marriage is over. It already is in serious trouble." 

She just grimaced and gave me her pat stoic unnatural smile that I knew was forced. My heart was breaking. She said if the committee approved her thesis next Tuesday, then she would tell me everything. She expressed sorrow for the anxiety I had. She did not express sorrow for having been the cause. She turned and went to her locked room. I went into despair. 

Finally it was Tuesday. She was up early and, to my astonishment, she dressed in her usual long drab dress with her hair pulled tightly into the familiar bun behind her head. Even for such an important event as presenting and defending her thesis, she dressed in that terrible clothing. Seemed to me her clothing was more even more important for her thesis defense as she was not at all physically attractive. I knew she could be so much more so in modern dress with make up.

"Susan," I spoke with deep concern," you really should dress up for this event. You hold this to be so important. Don't you realize that part of your presentation is how you appear? People will judge you not just on your research but on your whole presentation. That includes your clothing."

My appearance at work was important and I wasn't even a candidate.

"Ethan, you don't know social studies academicians. You earth science majors and business people may think formal dress is important on formal occasions such as this but the social studies people could care less. You should see how some of the female faculty dress."

"Are they married to men?" I asked scornfully.

She gave me that arrogant academician look and left.

I was able to wish her well. 

I called my geek friend and confirmed she had gone. He was ready to leave and armed for bear, as he put it.

He arrived with several small bags and containers with plug INS and other electronic devices and several discs. We sat at my wife's computer. I fed him all the information he asked for like name, social security number, mother's maiden name, birth date, etc. 

He was into her e-mail in less than two minutes. He told me he was going to copy all her e-mails to a disc and I could go through them later. In about five seconds he had that done. Then he went into her hard disc, opening file by file, into sub-files and sub-sub-files, all password protected but his program gave us all her passwords. He copied everything onto discs. 

He then went into her memory where the computer stores things I didn't know there was anything. He went into the hard disc and copied everywhere and every site she had visited. He copied her deleted files. He said he could copy every key stroke she had ever made. Her hard disc had so much memory space it could keep everything. He made several hard discs. He then went into her old "deleted" files; the ones that we think are gone when we delete them. He put these on the hard disc also. 

Since she had a huge hard disc memory, he was able to retrieve everything she had 'deleted' over the past two years when she had upgraded her hard drive. Finally, he went through and erased every evidence that her computer had been hacked. He smiled as he was copying everything onto back up discs. I asked him why we needed two copies and he stated that one copy could always be lost somehow or stolen. If I had another full copy of everything from her computer at a safe place, the information would not be at risk even if someone were to find the set I kept at home. He suggested a bank deposit box. 

We did not look into every file but simply saved them. I already knew that there just had to be really bad stuff on the discs, stuff that had the potential to destroy our marriage. I thanked him and gave him a nice personal check. I went to the bank and rented a deposit box in my name only and deposited the back up discs for safe keeping.

My wife returned after supper time having eaten in the city and having called me to tell me to grab a hamburger for supper. When she arrived she seemed happy. I asked her how the thesis critique went. She smiled and said it had gone even better than she had hoped. Her thesis had been accepted for publication by the University Academic Counsel. This is the official publications unit for the university. The committee had elected to conduct her final orals also. She had now completed all academic requirements for her degree. She was elated. There would be no further problems. Everyone concerned had reassured her. She was almost dancing.

"See," she said with exuberance, "I told you so. The way I dressed had nothing to do with how good my research was and how well I presented it."

I congratulated her again and again. She had succeeded in a most difficult task. Now she only had to wait until May convocation to receive her coveted Ph.D. I expressed high praise and congratulations. I wanted to give her a big hug. When I tried to hug and kiss her she turned away from me. 

"I can't kiss you yet like we used to," she murmured. 

"What the hell is this all about?" I inquired. "Your degree is assured. Your research is complete. You have a state high school teaching license. You have everything you ever put your mind to. Now is the time to put your mind and heart back into making our marriage what it once was."

She pulled away. 

"We can never go back, "she said.

"What the hell is all this about?" I asked. "We don't have to go back, we have to go forward." 

She took a step back. "I have been dreading and looking forward to this day at the same time. I still have unfinished business concerning the grant before we discuss anything else."

"You're delaying, Susan, and for no reason, "I accused her. "You're stringing me along! What is going on? No sex. No cuddling. No sharing. NO LOVE." I shouted at her. "Are we through? I can't take anymore of this. Are you leaving me or do I leave you?"

She looked at me with both sadness and irritation displayed.

"One more week, please, Ethan," she stated. "The financial part of my grant and the payment of the final graduation fees must be taken care of then we will have the long awaited talk and sharing time. Everything will be crystal clear then."

I got really angry. "You have a computer. Everything can be done electronically in a matter of a few minutes but you want a whole 'nother dammed week!"

This started another heated argument. It ended up that I accepted this last delay. I could not change her mind. 

"Sweetheart, there will be no more delays after this one. If you try to pull this crap on me again, the only delay will be how long it takes me to find a divorce lawyer. Don't get me wrong. I hate divorce but this crap has to end. What you are putting me through is worse than divorce. It's living hell day by day. This is like picking the petals of the butter cups: she loves me, she loves me not. I don't think you love me so I'm not going to waste any more time picking petals and wondering if you love me. You simply could not love and trust me and treat me way you have these past five months."

I went out to take a long walk to try to cool off. I was truly angry, down deep angry and told her so. I would be back "when I get back." 

She sat down on the couch in apparent turmoil of thoughts. 

As I walked in the cool evening air, I knew I was close to the breaking point. On the other hand, this final delay gave me another week to review her university grant account and her computer files I now had without her knowledge. I could be loaded for bear in less than a week. 

That night was a difficult night for me. I had trouble sleeping. I tossed and turned. Susan seemed to sleep fitfully also. I awakened her several times by thrashing around but she would go right back to sleep. I tried to calm down and finally dozed off into a noxious sleep.

I awoke early the next morning with my arm lying lightly across her belly. She was laying on her back breathing gently in a deep sleep. As I moved my hand she did not move. My hand slid to her lower abdomen. It had frequently been there before. It seemed an eternity since I had touched her body. I slid my hand slowly southward, easing lightly down to not awaken her but to feel for her pubic hair. 

It always felt so soft and so sexy. It aggravated my early morning hard on. Something was very different. Usually her belly was flat when she was lying on her back. Now there was a smooth and noticeable lump protruding up from under her pubis. My curiosity was immediately aroused as I explored and felt her belly more thoroughly. I almost came unglued at the thought that flashed into my mind. This abdominal growth was smooth and rounded on the top. It was easily a hand width over her pelvic bone. Really it was almost at her navel. Obviously it was not tender as she had not awakened. 

I withdrew my hand in horror. Now all her secrecy made sense. Her morning sickness that she had come home with but finally cleared up made sense. SHE WAS PREGNANT. The child could not have been mine for she had been on birth control pills when we parted. Now I remembered that I had not seen her birth control pills since she came back. She usually left them out with her tooth brush and cosmetics. The cosmetics of course were gone. She didn't use them anymore.