Marriage Goes Heels Up

Like most men, I will never understand women's fascination with shoes.

My wife, for instance, will insist to almost anyone who will listen that she hardly ever goes shopping for shoes. Yet there were probably 30 pairs of shoes in her closet the last time I glanced in, and I don't think any of those had been in that closet for more than two years.

That's 30 pairs that were bought sometime in the past two years, replacing probably 30 pairs bought in the previous two years. For comparison sake, I've got a pair of black dress shoes, a pair of brown dress shoes, a pair of boots and a pair of sneakers. I've had the brown shoes and the boots for about three years.

It was one of those 30 pairs, a rather inexpensive pair of Jimmy Choo heels costing only about $800, that was the beginning of the end of my 22-year marriage.

As was explained to me earlier, my wife, Staci, was walking off the elevator at one of her favorite clothing stores when the heel of one of her shoes got caught in the small opening between the elevator and the floor and snapped off, causing her to fall to the floor and bump her head, knocking her unconscious for several hours as she suffered a concussion.

When I got to the emergency room about 15 minutes after Staci, having been called by one of the friends who was out shopping with her, my wife was out cold on a bed with several lines running to her body from an IV machine and a doctor and a nurse checking her. I stood quietly at the door and watched the two work for several minutes before they noticed me. They both grimaced, which I took as a bad sign, even though the only outward problem I could see was a bandage on her forehead by her hairline.

"Uhh... doc... what am I missing here? I'm looking at a small bandage, an unconscious wife and two grimacing medical professionals," I said nervously.

The doctor looked down, then looked the nurse in the eyes before turning to me. He cleared his throat.

"The good news is that she should wake up any time now; she took a nasty fall on her head and her midsection. The bad news, however, is that she lost the baby."

"What baby?" I queried in a voice that was several octaves above my usual bass tone. "I had a vasectomy 17 years ago after our second child was born."

Both the doctor and the nurse absolutely gawked at me. Neither one had a very good poker face.

"Ooh," the doctor murmured while the nurse nodded agreement. "We're... sorry, Mr. Blackburn."

I stood silently for several seconds before replying quietly, "Yeah, me too."

The doctor explained to me that they had run several tests on my wife while she was unconscious, including a blood test that indicated she was pregnant.

I staggered over to the lone chair in the room, which was several feet away from the bed so it wouldn't interfere with the medical pros doing their work. I don't know how long I sat and watched as several people moved in and out of the room. I knew I should have called my kids and told them about what had happened, but I was stunned into inaction.

It was sometime later when I saw Staci's eyes flutter and finally open.

"Welcome back, Mrs. Blackburn," the doctor said calmly. "You're at Methodist Hospital, in the emergency wing. You had a nasty fall and suffered a concussion. You've been out for a while."

"M-my baby? How is my baby doing?" she asked barely above a whisper.

"The baby didn't make it. I'm sorry," he said quietly as Staci burst into tears.

I rose out of my chair at that point. Staci caught the movement and looked over at me, her eyes growing huge and her mouth opening wide. I never said a word as I silently exited the room.

I spent the next half-hour informing my children about Staci's accident and losing her baby as I drove home.

"Her what? What did you just say, Dad?" our son, Rob, practically screamed over the conference call. "I thought you said you..."

"I did have a vasectomy, Robbie. Obviously, it was not my child," I snarled.

"So... she's been having an affair. With whom?" our daughter, Lainey, yelled.

"How the hell should I know?" I yelled back. "Obviously, I had no clue she'd been having an affair, or I would have been divorced by now."

There was silence on the line as both kids digested what I just said.

"You're saying then that there's no chance of reconciliation?" Lainey asked.

It was my turn to be silent for a bit.

"I have no clue as to how long this affair has been going on, or if she's been sleeping with I don't know how many men. But getting pregnant when I've had a vasectomy; incredibly stupid and disrespectful. She knew this couldn't be undone, and that there was no way I would raise another man's bastard. The doctor said the baby was about three months old, which means she would have started showing any day, so I just think she was waiting until the last minute to tell me. Something is up; I mean, besides the pregnancy, but I don't yet know what.

"Still, I'm not going to hang around and be a wiling cuckold. She's history. She can be somebody else's problem in the future."

"That's cold, Dad, but I... I think, we... understand," Rob said.

Thirty minutes after getting home, I had done all the cliché financial chores leading up to a divorce and called my friend, Quincy LeGrand, a damn good attorney, even if he couldn't hit a 15-foot jumper to save his life when we played hoop together at the local YMCA. He agreed to meet me in his office at 7 AM, technically before his day started, the very next day, if I agreed to stop ragging on him for his lack of shooting prowess. Seemed like a good deal to me.

The necessaries taken care of, I made myself a salad, sat at the kitchen table and tried to put into perspective what I had learned earlier in the day. My first reaction was one of shock. I never had a clue that my wife--my best friend and soul mate--could betray me so completely and callously, and just act like nothing was different in her life while she was doing it. Since I made very good money, Staci didn't work, but served on several volunteer committees in town, so she had the time to screw around if she had the inclination. Either I was a completely clueless moron, or she was a very convincing actress, because I never thought she'd ever cheat on me.

Damn, I never saw it coming! We always had a great relationship, both emotionally and sexually. Yes, we weren't having sex every day anymore, but we were still making love two to three times a week, and I know for a fact that she still responded well to my ministrations. So what the fuck happened?

Quincy assured me the next morning that the divorce could be done in six months if my wife didn't fight it. Considering that she was cheating on me, I couldn't see why she would.

I was barely off the phone with Quincy before my father-in-law rang in. I was close to my in-laws because both of my parents had died in a car wreck when I was 30, and Staci's parents had stepped into my life to fill that void as best they could.

"How are you holding up, Matt?" my father-in-law asked. "I would imagine that today's been quite the shock for you."

"You have no idea, Dad... and I hope you never do, really," I answered. "I never thought Staci could ever do something this heinous to me. If she ever cared for me, the least she could have done was ask for a divorce before cheating with... whoever... like a common slut."

"Careful, Matt, she's still my daughter," John Olson warned. "Even if she's done something sketchy, she's still my daughter."

"I get that, Dad, but even if she's your daughter, you certainly can't tell me what she did wasn't incredibly low. What would you do if Mom had pulled that shit on you?" I asked.

I heard his breath catch in his throat. He was probably hoping I wouldn't ask him a question he'd have to answer honestly.

"I'd probably boot her ass as far away from me as I could get her. But I'm hoping you'll be a better man than me and try to reconcile with her," he said.

"Since you were honest with me, Dad, I'll be honest with you. Right now, I don't ever want to see her cheating ass again. I did nothing to deserve the disrespect she's shown me. Hell, I don't even know if the fucker who knocked her up is the only guy she's been fucking... pardon my French, Dad.

"Everything has been going along fine, at least that's what I thought up until today. Then I find out she's been cheating while smiling in my face every day for the last several months. I don't have any clue how long the cheating has been going on, but a good guess would be this was more than a one-shot deal."

"Yeah," he practically whispered. "I think you're right about this being more than a one-off. I don't know what to tell you. I'm incredibly disappointed in her.

"I guess if everything checks out, they will discharge her the day after tomorrow. They want to hold her for a bit since she suffered a concussion and was unconscious for several hours. If you want, Mom and I can get her at the hospital and bring her to your house... as long as you promise me you won't do anything to hurt her physically. Mentally... up to you, I guess. I can't tell you in good conscience that she doesn't deserve it."

I promised my father-in-law I wouldn't hurt his daughter physically. She was sitting on our sofa wrapped in a blanket when I got home from work two days later.

"Well, the prodigal slut returns. Have a nice mini-vacay?" I asked, sarcasm dripping off every word.

"How can you be so mean to me? I lost my baby, you bastard!" she yelled at me.

"Exactly. Your baby. Not mine and yours. Why the fuck should I care about your baby? What the fuck were you thinking?" I answered, doing my best to control my temper and keep my promise to my father-in-law.

"I didn't mean for this to happen... but after it did, I didn't feel guilty. I felt aroused, powerful, that I had something over on you. I've been cucking you good for the past six months. Hah! Cucking you! Owning you! You've been my cuckold bitch. You've had sloppy seconds, eaten another man's cum and I'm sure I could have manipulated you into raising another man's child if I hadn't tripped the other day," she said.

"I've been your good girl wife for more than 20 years. This felt empowering."

I felt more nauseous the longer she talked. I'd had sloppy seconds... worse, I'd eaten another man's cum from my wife's pussy. I retched right there, but fortunately nothing came up.

"Who the hell are you? What have you done with the Staci I married?" I asked, honestly in shock at this woman's attitude; not to mention sick to my stomach at the same time.

"I have never treated you any less than as an equal partner in this marriage. Where is this bitterness coming from?"

"Have you really treated me as an equal, Matt? Did you sacrifice your career to raise our kids? I think not," she remarked hotly.

It was my turn to be angry.

"We talked about this before we got married. My career had the bigger financial upside, and you got to be a stay-at-home. You always told me you enjoyed being able to come and go as you pleased, not being chained to a desk, so to speak," I said.

She looked smug as she sat there. I don't think she realized how much I was struggling with my lifelong commitment to never strike a woman. It came to me then that my wife was an actress of epic skill: she hadn't loved me for quite some time.

"So who is the new love of your life? Who has replaced me in your heart?" I asked, trying not to let my anguish show too much.

"Derek. You know, Derek from next door," she answered, her smug smile getting broader while my stomach felt like it was being pummeled from the inside.

Dr. Derek Strong was a professor of anthropology at our local university. He was one of those guys who felt his doctorate made him the smartest guy in the room, despite what subject was being discussed and who else was there. He was only 32, 15 years younger than both my wife and me, and, I had to admit, was a handsome son of a bitch with curly light brown hair, blue eyes and an ever-present three-day growth of stubble on his face. He was one of the university's bright lights and was highly-regarded despite his relative youth.

"Derek has convinced me that you're just a shallow, self-centered man that views me as little more than his property. So I decided to make you my cuck to get even with you... and get one over on you. And you've been so secure in your mistaken superiority that you never even noticed..."

"I never noticed because I trusted you completely. I loved you, you psycho bitch. That's a mistake I will no longer make," I rasped.

"No surprise, but divorce papers will be coming in the next day or two."

"Won't be any fight, as long as I get my half of our stuff and several years' worth of alimony. You can keep the house or sell it immediately, again as long as I get my half. I'm just going to move my stuff over to Derek's," she said confidently.

"Lainey will be going away to college next year. You can live in the house until then, if you don't mind the neighbors knowing you've been cucked by Derek. Then you can sell it and we can split the proceeds on that."

She got up from the sofa and went to what had been our bedroom to pack. I was blown away by the fact that she seemed to have all the answers... or at least the ones Derek had given her. It seemed to me that she was very much under his spell. I was most definitely history.

I don't know how many of the neighbors knew about Staci's affair with Derek, but I got a lot of sympathetic looks from many of them over the next few weeks. A couple of the bolder ones who apparently weren't in on the neighborhood gossip actually asked me what was going on, since Staci had been seen coming and going from Derek's house now. Several of the men on our block expressed... condolences, I guess, over the situation, and disdain for Derek.

I'm not sure why Staci was surprised when she tried to get into what was now my house and she found that her key no longer worked two weeks after she moved in with Derek. I received a phone call at work bitching me out for her not being able to get something of hers from my house.

"On the sage advice of my attorney, I changed all the locks and the garage door code. Since you abandoned the house to me and no longer live there, you don't have the right to enter my home whenever the mood strikes you. You can get whatever is yours left in the house when I get home from work, and not a minute before. And before you ask, Lainey doesn't have permission to let you in... nor would it be smart for you to challenge your daughter the way she feels about you right now," I said.

Staci was obviously pregnant again by the time our divorce become official six months later. Lainey was furious with her mother as her school mates gave her no end of grief over Staci being a "pregnant slut."

"Darn it, Dad!" Lainey whined one evening as we ate dinner. "Couldn't she have waited until after I was gone to get pregnant. I don't need a baby brother or sister. All everyone wants to know is if she's going to whip a boob out and feed the kid during graduation ceremonies."

I didn't answer my daughter because I really wasn't sure if Staci would do that or not, since I no longer had any clue what was running through my formerly demure wife's head.

"I can tell you one thing, I'm not babysitting the brat," Lainey growled.

Lainey's relationship with Staci thawed a bit as my ex-wife's pregnancy went on, and she was even invited to Staci's baby shower thrown by a friend from the neighborhood. My daughter practically apologized to me when she told me she was going to attend because she felt like she was betraying me somewhat, but I told her not to worry because Staci was still her mother and the two needed to keep their relationship.

"I don't suppose you'll even be buying a baby gift when the kid is born?" Lainey asked me a few weeks before Staci was due.

"Not a chance in the world," I answered flatly.

Rob was less sanguine than his sister about his mother's actions and pregnancy. A sophomore in college, he didn't even come home when Staci gave birth. When he came home for his sister's high school graduation, he stayed at my house and didn't walk next door to visit his mother and his new half-sibling. He finally saw the baby right before the graduation ceremony when Staci and Derek walked up to where he and I were sitting and introduced him to the baby, named Derek Jr.

"He's a smug bastard. How come you haven't punched his lights out yet, Dad?" Rob asked me when the three left for their seats.

"Because he's waiting for that, so he can have me arrested," I answered. "I'm not falling for that. He can keep the slut and their baby."

Rob was way more into the revenge thing than I was, I found out. Where I had no immediate plans to date, waiting for the sting of Staci's betrayal to eventually fade, Rob practically insisted I jump into the dating pool with both feet... and another body part or two.

"Don't you dare be pathetic, Dad. You've got to show her that she gave up a vital, impressive stud for... for a pompous asswipe. If you can't beat him with your fists, beat him at his own game... and show Mom she bet on the wrong horse," Rob explained.

The more I thought about it, the more I liked my son's plan, although I knew I needed someone to teach me how to be a manslut. That meant I had to call one of my old college buddies, Spencer Fydrich.

Spence was the same age as me, having graduated the same year, but he had never to this point been married. If you looked in the dictionary under "manslut," his photo would right next to the definition.

He wasn't the best-looking guy in the world, nor the most fit, but Spence had something that made him irresistible to women. He was practically a legend when we were in school, and things hadn't changed too much since, both from what I saw and what he said. He would come stay with my family once or twice a year, despite the fact that he was far from Staci's favorite person. She always worried that he would corrupt me. It never happened then, but now...

Spence spent a week with me, and I felt like I was having a college flashback. I took a week of vacation, because I knew there was no way I could keep up with Spence and still be productive at work. That was probably the last smart decision I made that week... in addition to making sure I had a brand-new box of condoms available. After not having used a condom in forever, I didn't enjoy using them, but there was no way I wanted to deal with the possibility of an STD.

Spence and I went hunting--his phrase--four nights out of the week he stayed with me. To say I got an education would have been a grave understatement. I found out that there were a lot of women out there looking for either Mr. Right or Mr. Right Now, although I made it a point to stay away from married women, even if Spence didn't.

Chasing prey after being married and out of the game for a quarter-century was quite intense and tiresome. I had new respect for Spence at the end of the week.

"Damn, Spence, how do you keep doing it? I'm exhausted both mentally and physically," I said to him when I dropped him off at the airport at the end of the week.

I had been an empty-nester since Lainey left for college in mid-August. Spencer's visit was the week after she left, so from late August on my house suddenly became a haven for unattached females, many of whom were quite attractive, if I say so myself. I didn't try to hide the parade of women from my ex-wife and neighbors, but I at least tried not to be too overtly obvious... like hell I didn't. I know Staci and Derek were witness to several women coming or going at various times, as were several other neighbors. I no longer got condescending smirks from the neighbors; it was more like looks of envy and surprise.

At 48, Staci apparently was having a tough time regaining her body after her pregnancy, and I was bringing home good-looking women ranging in age from 30 to 60 on a regular basis. I had to wonder what was going through Derek's mind. His days as a roving stud certainly appeared to be over with a partner and baby waiting at home for him.

I was wrong, however. Derek still had some life left in his stud persona, at least according to two of his female students, who claimed he seduced them. One of the two was pregnant and claimed the baby was Derek's.

The university president was not pleased with the revelations from the students. He could, and did repeatedly, ignore those claims from the husbands of several women in town through the years, but claims of sex with students was over the line. He quickly started an internal investigation, the local newspaper reported.

Staci wasn't any happier than the university president, I found out. Two days after the story hit the papers, Staci and the baby moved out. I was sitting on my front porch swing drinking a beer when I saw my ex load a couple of suitcases into the trunk of her car, then put the baby in his car seat and drive off. I waved as she drove past my house on that beautiful spring day. I wasn't offended when she flipped me off.

I knew she wouldn't be hurting for money for a while since she got half of our assets in the divorce and I bought out her half of my home. She hadn't married Derek, so she wouldn't get anything from him except child support.

It was more than a little interesting to me to note that my stock among the neighborhood women suddenly went up, and that their husbands seemed more than a little happy to associate with me openly.

I wasn't surprised when the police showed up at my door about a month later one day after somebody mugged Derek. I honestly didn't know about the mugging until the police informed me, but questioning me made complete sense considering the circumstances. They told me they were also going to question the fathers of the two college students Derek was involved with and my ex-father-in-law.

The police quickly realized I had nothing to do with Derek's mugging, even though I probably shouldn't have offered to help pay bail for whoever did. I didn't volunteer to the police that my money would have been on my father-in-law, John Olson.

Thanks to Rob and Spence, I was having a sexual and emotional renaissance that I never envisioned. As Spence explained during the week he stayed with me, a big part of being successful in the dating world was being confident enough to put yourself out there among women of all ages and situations... not something I would have tried without the encouragement and coaching of my son and my friend.

Despite my renaissance, however, I determined I wasn't looking for a woman to replace my ex-wife. I was very content to mix it up with a variety of women... and to be fair I made sure to explain that to any woman that I dated more than once. I didn't want any of them to get their hopes up that I was looking at a relationship beyond friendship. Most that I dated were good with that since I was upfront, although a couple did mention to me that they weren't going to give up on us becoming more than friends... or fuckbuddies... or whatever we had going.

Although I decided not to worry too much about the age of my partners, I never went for any woman that looked to be in her 20s. It probably would have been fun from a physical standpoint, but what could we possibly talk about after sex? At least with a 30-something, we had a better chance of connecting, I felt.

I also had no trouble dating women from the 40s to the 60s. As Spence explained to me, older women might not be as physical as their younger counterparts, but they usually made up for that with effort... and often had a wealth of experience both in and out of bed.

About two years after my divorce, I met Sally Darnell, a smaller, curvy blonde woman whom I took for about 40 when I first saw her at one of my favorite pubs. She was apparently there with a group of 30-something friends on a Friday night. After watching them for a while, I got the impression they were a group of workmates, and maybe Sally was like their chaperone, or den mother... although she was dressed very similar to her younger charges, with a tight low-cut blouse and a tight short skirt that only made it halfway down her well-toned thighs.

I was blown away when I found out on our third date that Sally was actually 54 years old. She was obviously braless in a blouse that was unbuttoned down to the top of her taut stomach, and her legs looked amazing in another mid-thigh-length skirt and 4-inch come-fuck-me heels.

I'm pretty sure I drooled on her porch when she opened the door to greet me that night.

"Wow," I whispered, not fully realizing that I had indeed talked out loud.

"I was hoping for perhaps something more eloquent, but I can see that you are barely conscious right now. If you don't breathe soon, you're going to pass out," she snarked at me.

Sally was barely 5-foot without her heels. I found out her body came from a combination of good genetics, three days a week at the gym and pickleball.

"My mom's 20 years older than me at 74 and she still turns heads," Sally said.

"Wait. You're 54?" I mumbled in disbelief.

She looked worried for a second.

"Too old?" she inquired.

"God no. You're only a few years older than me," I replied. "It's just that I thought you were about 40."

"Oh, you beautiful, silver-tongued devil. But no, at 54, I can't do the splits anymore," she teased.

I blushed hard as she looked at me, wondering how she could know exactly what I was thinking.

She might not have been able to do the splits anymore, but she showed me later she could still get her ankles up over my shoulders, which only spurred me on physically after I first brought her to several shrieking orgasms with my fingers and tongue.

I had her wrapped in both my arms on top of my body after we fucked once and made love once. We kissed passionately and fell asleep entwined. As I was drifting off, I remember questioning my decision to live single.

I went out with several other women the next several weeks, and while I enjoyed myself, none of them was as engaging as Sally. I called her on a Sunday afternoon to ask her out for the next Friday night. She turned me down because she already had a date for that night.

"Oh, sorry, I guess I should have called earlier," I mumbled before saying good-bye and ending the call.

I don't know why, but I was pissed that Sally had a date. After all, we were both single and free, and we never made any commitments of exclusivity. As I sat and thought about it, I realized I was developing an attachment to her, and I was more than a little resentful of someone other than me spending time with her. Hmm. If that was the case, then I had better get my ass in gear and stop dallying.

I called her right back and asked her out for Saturday. She giggled and accepted. I had one more request.

"Can I reserve you for... the foreseeable future as well?" I asked.

I heard her gasp through the phone. There were several seconds of silence before I heard her whisper, "Yeah. I could do that."

Sally and I had talked about our pasts and our failed marriages on our three previous dates, but it was more in passing. Saturday was the beginning of a deeper relationship, with deeper explanations and deeper questions. We both seemed eager to let the other know things we thought were important.

And then, of course, there was the sex... and our connection.

Rob had graduated a couple of years ago and had settled across the state line about an hour away. He didn't come home very often and I thought maybe it was because he was mad at me about the divorce from his mother.

"What's the statute of limitations on assault, Dad?" he asked me during a phone call one day.

Hell, I didn't need a siren going off to figure that one out. The police had never found who mugged Derek Strong several years back, despite questioning me and several other people, including my ex-father-in-law.

"So that was you? Well-done, young man!" I enthused. "I knew it wasn't me, but I sure as hell knew him getting mugged was hardly a coincidence. But I would say at this point, you're in the clear, as long as you don't go bragging about it.

"And Rob, thank you very much. I'm sure your grandfather would thank you, too, but I'm not sure it's wise to tell him."

Derek lost his job at the local university soon after he was mugged, and apparently the university president did a good job of informing his counterparts at many other educational institutions because he eventually wound up at a small college in Butt Fuck, Wyoming, or someplace like that.

With Rob's legal status clarified for him, he started coming home more often. Both he and Lainey got to know Sally well, and both thought almost as highly of her as I did.

"To quote a line from an Indiana Jones movie, 'you have chosen wisely,' Lainey said soon after she met Sally. "She's fun and smart and... really good-looking, Dad. I'm sure Mom will be jealous if she sees how pretty Sally is."

Sally and I were married in a small ceremony about a year later. My kids, her two kids and their families, my parents, her mother and Spence Fydrich were the only ones in attendance. Her son gave the bride away, and Spence stood up as my best man.

Sally had been married for 18 years before she caught her husband cheating on her. Despite her having been single for 11 years when we met, she still had some trust issues with men. She had dated on an irregular basis but hadn't had a serious relationship since her divorce.

Because of what I felt was Staci's blatant disrespect toward me at the end of our marriage, I made sure I had as little contact with her as possible. I didn't do any joint holidays or birthdays, despite the fact that we both lived in the same city. For example, Sally and I did Christmas gift-giving on Christmas Eve, so Staci and her parents could do gifts on Christmas morning. Staci didn't take it well. I didn't give a shit.

As I always got along well with Staci's parents, I felt somewhat bad about the separation from them, but I knew they understood. We had talked about having them come to my house on Christmas Eve, but they both felt that doing that would undermine their daughter emotionally.

"I know it sounds stupid, Matt, but Staci would have my ass if I told her we were going to show up at your house on Christmas Eve. I know she did you wrong and I'd love to be with you and the kids, but I hope you can understand," my father-in-law said.

The exception to the rule were the weddings of my kids. Staci and I even sat next to each other in the front row during the ceremonies, although there was little said between us. Sally and I then sat at a table with Sally's kids during the reception.

I had almost nothing to say to my ex during either wedding, although she tried several times to engage me in conversation.

"Can't we at least act like adults?" Staci said during Lainey's wedding, the second of the two to get married.

"That didn't exactly work out well for me when we were married, so... no... now that we're not married," I answered.

Interestingly, Staci's son, Derek Jr., took a liking to my Sally and wound up following her around like a puppy at Lainey's reception. Being the good person she is, Sally was friendly to the youngster, which seemed to irritate my ex-wife but impressed her parents. Me, I barely acknowledged the child's existence: not his fault, I got it, but he was the living embodiment of Staci's cheating on me.

Both of my children told me their little half-brother was a good kid and they liked him. I completely got it, and told them I was glad they both had a good relationship with DJ, as everybody called him. Their relationship with him was completely separate from their relationship with me.

While Staci wasn't hurting for money, she wasn't rolling in it either as Derek hadn't been paying his child support since he left to wherever he got to, her parents told me. Also, having a 5-year-old didn't exactly leave a lot of free time for her to enjoy "me time." She looked to be about 20 pounds overweight and "frumpy."

By contrast, Sally glowed. She was fit, had her hair and nails done to perfection and, as usual, looked and acted at least a decade younger than her 57 years.

Sally and I had also been taking dance lessons for the past year, at her urging, and I have to admit I thought we looked pretty good when we hit the dance floor. My daughter's new in-laws were very impressed with our skill, and we really had a good time getting to know them. In fact, we got along so well with them that we were talking about possibly taking a vacation with them in the near future.

My daughter approached Sally and I about halfway through the reception, for the first time all day with a serious look on her face.

"Something wrong, kitten?" I asked.

She looked uncomfortable. Whatever was wrong, I knew I'd fix it for her if I could.

"Look, Dad, you and Sally have given me an amazing wedding, but I need one... small... favor," she started. "Mom hasn't danced with anyone all night except for Robbie one time. She looks miserable. I know you have avoided talking to her as much as possible since the divorce, but... could you please dance with her once or twice? Maybe then everyone will see that she's not... as repulsive as everyone on our side of the family seems to think she is."

Sally and I looked at each other, then over to my ex-wife, who did indeed look miserable. By this point, everybody on our side of the family knew the story of my marriage and divorce, and from the lack of people conversing with her, I'd say they had taken my side of the argument.

"Dad, Grandma asked me to ask you. She was afraid to ask you herself."

I glanced over to my former mother-in-law, who was looking right at me, pleading with her eyes. As I've noted, I had gotten along well with my in-laws.

When I looked over at my wife, I got the same pleading look. Ah, shit. I could deny Sally nothing.

"It's just a couple of dances, Matty. Pleeeease?" she whined.

"Thanks, Sally," I heard Lainey say as I left the table.

Staci was facing away from me as I walked up to the table where she sat with my former in-laws and Derek Jr. She almost jumped out of her chair when she felt my hand on her shoulder and turned to face me.

"Matt? Wh-what's wrong?" she asked tentatively, knowing that just about the only way I'd talk to her was if something was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong, Staci. I just figured that the parents of the bride should share at least one dance together. We did make that beautiful creature. We should at least celebrate that," I said.

Her visage morphed from concern to joy in an instant. I felt, rather than saw, the smile on my former mother-in-law's face.

Staci wasted no time taking my outstretched hand and I led her to the dance floor as a slow song started. She didn't hesitate to move in close to my body and rested her head on my upper chest.

Probably half the song was done before she spoke her first words.

"Umm... I owe you an apology, Matt," she said. "Looking back on things, I realize now that I never apologized for hurting you, for being a stupid, stupid woman.

"I won't apologize for cheating on you. I knew it was wrong, but that still didn't stop me at the time. But I never apologized for hurting you, not that an apology would have made things better. I fell for a skilled seducer's bullshit, hook, line and sinker, and started thinking... below my waist. I was stupid... and selfish."

She pulled her head back to look me in my eyes. I could see the pain in her eyes was real. It was the first time she had ever shown any remorse.

I did my best to keep my face neutral. It took all my self-restraint not to slap... what did she call herself... a "stupid, stupid woman." To this day, I was still at a loss to see how she could throw me away after 22 years.

She laid her face back against me when I didn't answer. I caught a glimpse of my wife and daughter watching from the table.

"You seem very happy with your pretty new wife," she added. "I notice you two can't seem to keep your hands off each other. I remember when we were like that. I'm glad you found somebody... one somebody to call your own. It looked like you were doing a hook-up of the week club for a while when I still lived next to you. For a while I thought you were doing that to make me jealous. You know, I was stuck at home with a baby and you... you were enjoying the single population of our town.

"And unlike Derek, I knew they were all single. I knew you had too much integrity to ever date someone else's wife. Hindsight has taught me that someone who would chase another man's wife probably isn't going to win 'man of the year' honors.

"You know the old saying that karma is a bitch? Well, I've discovered that's true, and her name is Staci. A dumb bitch, too."

"I can't say I'm sorry that things didn't work out for you," I said. "Truthfully, it was gratifying that your lover turned out to be a scumbag."

She pulled her head back again to look at my face. This time I was smiling. She seemed somewhat put out at that.

"Hey, I never said I was perfect. You screwed me over. I was glad to see you get the same," I said.

She grinned back at me.

"Fair enough," she said in slightly more than a whisper.

The second song ended and I led her back to her table. I could see she was disappointed we didn't stay out for a third song.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we were still married?" she asked.

"Truthfully, no," I responded. "My new wife... is a force of nature."

"Yeah, I can see that," Staci said. "Our kids love her, and it seems everyone just gravitates toward her. Hang on to this one, Matt."

That last statement hit me wrong. I had been doing so well to hold my tongue.

"I didn't let the last one go. She left on her own," I said softly, watching her grimace.

As any grandparent would tell you, grandchildren are THE BEST. Our four children have given us nine grandchildren now. Since they all live within a couple hours drive, we get to see them a lot. "Gamma," as all the kids call Sally, is the rock star grandparent. She is always a bundle of energy, but with the grandkids around she just seems to turn it up a notch.

Both my kids call Sally "Mom," and I'm "Dad" to Sally's two. Both sets of kids are comfortable with each other as well, so when we get together, which is several times a year, it's always a big party. In fact, at Lainey's urging, we started inviting my former in-laws, and after some initial awkwardness, they now fit right in. They have both thanked Sally and me profusely.

I never inquire about my ex-wife and they don't bring her up in conversation. At Christmas, Sally always buys a gift for Derek Jr. and gives it to the in-laws so they can take it to him. She signs the card simply, "Love, Matt and Sally."

It was another several years later during a quiet moment a few days before Christmas when my father-in-law and I were sitting in my living room drinking an eggnog.

"Mom and I can't thank you and Sally enough for including us in your family fun," John said quietly, "Although I can't help but be remorseful that Staci and DJ can't be here to enjoy this."

He saw my brow furrow and hurried to complete his thought.

"I'm not hinting for you to invite them," he rushed out. "I'm just remorseful that my stupid daughter threw all this away because she was selfish and easily influenced by a man who never cared for her near as much as you did. We didn't raise her that way, Matt..."

"I know you didn't, Dad," I answered. "I've never blamed you guys for her choices."