Go with Your Gut

Go with your Gut

I had known for a month that she was having an affair and had been suspicious for three months before that. So, I had the time to not only verify my suspicions but also move my assets in a manner that would protect me before confronting her.

Mary and I had been married for twenty-five years. When she first agreed to marry me, I thought I was the luckiest man in the world. Not only did I think she was beautiful, but she was also funny, easy to talk to and a joy to just be with. And the sex was spectacular. I thought of us as soulmates. After twenty-five years, she had acquired a few wrinkles and a maybe a pound or two, but to me, she was still the most beautiful women in the world.

Our marriage had focused mostly on building and supporting a family. We were successful at that, and we both had great pride in what we had accomplished. Our two kids were grown, moved out, establishing their own careers and making their way in the world. When the kids hit their teen years, Mary moved back into the workforce with the idea of contributing more towards the financial end of the scale, and not too surprising, did well.

I had been planning a big surprise. I was planning to sell my shares in the firm that I was senior partner and shareholder in and retire. I was going to make up to Mary all those missed meals and weekends. I was going to suggest that Mary retire too, because what I was getting from the sale would be enough not only to live well, but to travel extensively.

But just as I was bringing my retirement surprise together, I started to sense that Mary was withdrawing from me, both physically and emotionally. A gentle, affectionate touch would annoy her. Intimacy was becoming a memory. Conversations were perfunctory, or not all. She had less patience and was quicker to anger or annoy.

As a sales manager for a regional office of a printing and stationary chain, there always had been occasions when she would have to work late, but recently she reached a level of frequency way beyond what she had been required to do before. Late used to mean home by seven. Now it was much later. It used to happen once or twice a month, now it was once or twice every week. When she did come home early, she would eat supper, complain about being tired and would be in the shower and bed by nine.

When we were together, she was tuning me out. I would ask her something and then have to repeat it because she wasn't listening. I would tell her something, expecting a response, and there would only be silence, until I repeated it louder and she would grunt out a noncommittal answer

As my suspicion became more serious, I started asking questions. When she came home at midnight: "Is there something you want to tell me?" She told me no with a look of annoyance, explaining new management is putting a lot of pressure on everyone. The next week, after another midnight work session: "Is there anything I need to worry about?" She told me I was being silly. I pointed out that we hadn't had intimacy in months and she hadn't spoken to me more than a single sentence any time we were in the same room. I was told I was being ridiculous, that we weren't young anymore. I asked, "do you think we need marriage counseling?" Which earned an flat no. I suggested a vacation to an all-inclusive in the Caribbean or a weekend at that posh hotel in town. She told me she was too busy.

Then on our anniversary, I had gotten her a piece of fine jewelry, knowing she liked such things. I had called her in the afternoon, asking if she would home in the evening, she coldly responded, not to tonight, have to work." Then she just hung up, not even saying goodbye. I stayed up waiting for her. She came in at about 11. I met her at the foot of our stairs, knowing she would ignore anything I said in her rush to get upstairs.

"Your anniversary present." I said.

"Look, I'm tired. Sorry I forgot about the anniversary but I'm tired and I'm going upstairs."

"No!" I barked. "What I have to say won't take long. Sit down!"

Stunned at the tone I used, she sat down at our dining room table.

"What?" she asked finally, having gathered her wits.

"Our marriage is broken. I don't know why, maybe you are having an affair. I don't care, all I want to do is save our marriage. If you have any desire to save this marriage, you need to find that woman I married, the woman who was the mother of our children, the woman I wanted to grow old with and have her come home to me. I can meet you partway. We can do counseling. Whatever I have done wrong to drive you away, I will try to change. Otherwise, I am afraid we are at the endpoint."

"What do you mean by that?" She asked, revealing her own anger.

"Divorce."

"If you do that, I'll clean up on alimony and when we divide our assets."

I sighed. "What? Tell me that's not your plan to save our marriage. Telling me I won't divorce you because of alimony? That is really not the threat you may think it is." She just stared at me defiantly.

Finally, I said, "well, I guess I have my answer. You go ahead and go upstairs, take your shower and wash the sin off."

"Fuck you!" she said angrily.

I just shook my head.

With that, I got up and went up to the guest room.

My first piece of hard evidence of the affair came just three days later. That evening, I came home early, well before Mary. I went upstairs to change, and I found a half empty bottle of men's cologne on the bathroom sink. It wasn't mine. It had never occurred to me that they were using our own marital bed. The very thought sent a shiver down my spine.

When Mary was home a little later, I struggled to keep my anger in check. I said nothing to her. She then coarsely inquired, "Feelings still hurt from our little conversation?" I said nothing in response, went up to my son's room and spent the night alone and in a dark hell of imagining what my once soul mate had been doing with our marriage.

With the next morning, I worked to snap myself out of the funk I had fallen into. I started moving assets. First, I created an irrevocable trust for the benefit of our two children with my father as trustee and an old friend and firm partner as co-trustee and moved a significant portion of my investments into it. My children were all I had left, so the fact that I lost access to this money didn't bother me in the least. I also hid the balance of my assets in several different banks and investment companies.

I then opened my own credit card account so that on the day of the confrontation I could cancel all of our joint cards. And I withdrew half of the funds from our joint checking and closed our joint savings account.

I still sought confirmation, because even with the cologne all I had was circumstantial evidence. I didn't need evidence for the divorce; I needed it for my own peace of mind. I placed a tracker in my wife's car and found out she was spending her late nights at a nearby motel and one lunch break each week at our house.

One evening I parked across from the motel and spied her with one of her young salesmen, Dwayne. I had met Dwayne before at an office function of her's. He was a recent hire. I checked him out on social media and found a treasure trove of information. Nothing on Mary, but plenty of stuff I could still use. I then planted a video cam in our bedroom with a motion detector and a dedicated laptop, all well-hidden.

Dwayne was about 25 years old. Mary was 50. Mary was still a good-looking women, she had retained her nice figure despite giving birth to two kids.

Watching the video was painful. I was able to track three occasions that they used my bed for their assignations. And my dear wife was far more giving to this shithead than she ever was with me. Her blowjobs were enthusiastically given and were more frequent than I ever knew. She even let him do anal, something I was never allowed, although I could tell she didn't like it. All of it struck me like a ton of bricks. The first time I watched the videos, I fell into a deep funk, but after the three video events I somehow had found the energy to return to the world of the living... if only to fulfill my plan.

In watching the videos I looked for clues as to why from what they said to each other. Dwayne's references to me were uncomplimentary. Mary never contradicted him as he used terms like loser, wimp and cucky to refer to me. When she said something about me, it was not negative, but it was boring stuff. I was a hard worker, a good provider or I was good to my children. She once referred to me as her cash cow. Never anything with a hint of love or affection.

Watching these videos was painful. It brought me to tears, but it also hardened me. I had to wait until I had full control of my emotions. I needed this confrontation to convey strength for what was left of my pride. There was still grief at the death of our love, and there was anger for the betrayal, but waiting allowed me to be in control of these dark tempers.

The so-called weekend conference helped me decide when to confront my errant wife. Occasional conferences had always been part of her job, but before it had been local and during the week, this time was different and I asked her about it. Her explanation was that corporate headquarters wanted all salespeople to meet without disrupting their work schedules. Another bedroom video confirmed there was no conference, just a weekend tryst at the same posh hotel that I had suggested to Mary earlier.

So, it was the Wednesday before the so-called weekend conference at corporate. I had noticed a pattern in their behavior. It was more likely that the late nights would be Monday and Thursday. The lunchtime debauches would occur on Wednesdays and sometimes Fridays. Apparently, their work schedules dictated their play schedules.

The sale of my shares in the partnership had closed. I still went into the office from occasion to see old clients or mentor younger members of the firm in an "of counsel" capacity, but my hours were now determined by me. So, on Wednesday, before lunch, I went home, parked my car around the block, went back to the house and hid in the guest bedroom. I didn't have to wait long.

Mary and Dwayne drove up at just a few minutes past noon. They entered my home giggling about something. I could hear their voices from downstairs but couldn't quite make out what they were saying. But as they ascended the stairs, their voices became more distinct.

Mary was saying that I hadn't been asking her any more suspicious questions. "He's either becoming use to our new reality and has given up or maybe he is just getting ready to do the divorce."

"What if he is, are you ready?"

"Mentally I am. This marriage ended some time ago. But I really need to go to a lawyer and figure out what I am entitled to."

Reaching the bedroom, they closed the door and their conversation became muted.

I slipped out from hiding and stood outside the door to my bedroom, and tried to listen for more conversation, but it quickly became apparent that the conversation was over and that the purpose of this secret stopover had begun in earnest.

I waited for the right moment to barge in, wanting a grand, dramatic impact. When the sounds of the mattress and bedframe revealed that time had arrived, I opened the door and saw my wife and her lover completely naked with my wife on top aggressively fucking the shit out of Dwayne.

I immediately announced my presence. "Well, look who's here, my slutty wife and her little fuck toy. Hello, there Dwayne, please get you hands off my wife's tits and pull your cock out of her cunt so that I can properly throw you out on your skinny little ass."

My wife seemed to almost jump out of her skin, jumping off the bed, grabbing a piece of clothing from the floor to cover herself, then screaming, "what the fuck!"

Dwayne rolled off the bed on the opposite side so fast that he ended up on the floor, his hard cock quickly losing its stiffness, but still glistening from my wife's juices.

"Get out of here, you bastard!" yelled Mary.

In a calm voice, I replied, "Oh, I will, in just a minute."

Dwayne stood up, shaken.

"Geez Dwayne, if you're my replacement, I have to say I am a bit underwhelmed." I said looking at his equipment. "In any event, you're welcomed to the old cow, but be forwarned, she is an unfaithful slut, god knows what disease you'll be bringing home to your wife, Amy."

At that Mary grabbed her shoe and threw it at me, "Get out, you bastard."

Still addressing Dwayne, I said, "Amy's a hot babe, you are definitely trading down."

"Get your digs in now, asshole, you'll never get any of this again," Mary screamed.

"Dwayne, I am going to have to ask you to leave now, Mary and I have to tie up some loose ends, and your presence will probably be awkward for you."

At that, the dull young twit suddenly realized I had mentioned his wife by name and told me "to leave my wife out of this, you asshole."

"Too late, I'm afraid she now knows where your wandering dick has been. We had a long conversation."

At that, Dwayne's face turned red and he suddenly charged me, as expected.

It had been nearly thirty years since I had been in the Army, and I was counting on my combatives training to help me at this point. In retrospect, I can't say there was much muscle memory left, but I did remember a few things. Hit first, hit hard, and never waste a surprise. As he approached me in his fury, I gave him a quick, hard rabbit punch to the nose. The look on his face was more shock than pain, he stumbled back, his hands on his nose with blood dripping from his hands.

Mary rushed to his side. "Dwayne, dear, are you okay?" Then she repeated her new name for me, "you bastard!"

I just smiled.

I went into the bathroom, grabbed a towel and threw it to Dwayne, telling him "clean yourself up, get dressed and be out the door in five minutes, our I'll be more than happy to throw your scrawny ass out the door in your current state of undress."

I walked out of the room, went downstairs, saw Mary's pocketbook on the dining room table, fished her keys out, and waited.

I didn't have to wait the full five minutes. Mary came down with Dwayne, both of them hastily dressed. Mary looked freshly fucked with her hair in disorder and her makeup smeared. Dwayne holding his head up with his nose stuffed with tissues.

I waved Mary's keys at her and said, "Mary, you need to stick around, I'm leaving here in a few minutes, and I need to tell you about the financial arrangements I've made for you. I won't be back."

"But Dwayne rode with me, I have to get him back to work."

"Dwayne can walk or call an Uber, and I'd suggest he return home, his wife is waiting to have the same conversation I want to have with you."

Dwayne mumbled in a very nasally voice, "you bastard!"

"I can see where you guys get along so well, you share the same limited vocabulary of slurs."

I laid a file of papers on the table next to Mary's purse, and suggested she take a look.

She hesitated next to Dwayne at the door, then said, "I'd better see what he's done, you'll be okay, won't you, love?"

Dwayne nodded.

Mary walked over to our dinner table and sat down and opened the file. Dwayne walked out the door looking anxious.

As she opened the file, I told her the top page is my outline of a settlement, the rest are just our financials to show your lawyer.

After a minute, Mary said, "I don't understand any of this. Where is all our money? What about the value of your shares in the firm?"

I sold my shares. I was going surprise you with an early retirement and a long and luxurious vacation, but then you slipped and fell on Dwayne's dick, so I gave most of our money away.

"You did what!?!"

"I gave most of our money away. I got the idea from you when you told me I wouldn't divorce you because I'd lose so much money. I never really needed money anyway, it was only to keep you and the kids happy and comfortable. I learned long ago that I don't really need much. And since I am no longer a part of your life, since I have become an intrusion in your life, I need to remove myself. If there is no us, there is no need for money. I gave our money away."

"What are you talking about? Who did you give the money to?

"The kids. It's in a trust so they don't spend it all recklessly."

"I bet my lawyer can break that trust."

"Maybe he can. I am giving you enough cash so that you can hire a good lawyer. I have already hired a pretty good one, myself."

"What about the house?"

"I don't need it. So long as it's your primary residence, you can keep. If you sell it, I get half. I went ahead and bought a camper, much less value than this house, but it will be all I need.

"There is still a mortgage on the house. At three percent interest, it made no sense for me pay it off. Hell, even my Bank CDs were recently making more than the interest I was paying on your mortgage.

So, you can keep the house so long as you keep up with the $5,000 a month mortgage. Oh, and if you don't pay the mortgage promptly and in full, my attorney will have you ousted and promptly sell it."

She stared at me in disbelief.

"What if I just ask the kids to give me some of their money?"

"It's their money, but they don't control it, the Trustees control it. You can ask the kids and they can ask the Trustee, but the Trust has detailed provisions on what the Trustees must do. If they sniff anything involving you, they will just say no."

Mary continued to read. "Now it says I will get $1000 a month alimony for five years. That can't be right, can it? How can I manage this household on this tiny amount."

"Well, maybe you can get your lawyer to get you more. But if you take the $1000 a month and add it to your current income from your job, you have a greater income than I do. You did see that I'm only netting $5000 a month from the trust which is less than you make from your job. So, I suspect the court won't be inclined to give you more. Oh, and remember, your retirement account is bigger than mine, so you won't get your hands on that either."

"How much is in that trust? How much of our money did you give away?"

"A bit more than $12 million dollars. You shouldn't have thrown me away like yesterday's garbage. Had you made better choices, you'd be living well. But don't worry, if you and Dwayne don't pan out, you've got plenty of other fellows who you can pick up at work, once everyone hears you do anal. Word of advice, next time pick from your supervisors, not your subordinates, that's were you will find money.

"Oh, fuck you!"

Up till now, I'd been speaking in a light, if sarcastic tone, but I changed to a strong angry tone and said, "I held my tongue for three months while you humiliated me in front of our friends, our family and in front of all of your colleagues at work. You were my whole world, but this past year, I barely existed to you. No worries, after we finish here, I will be gone and I won't be any more bother to you. So, today's little splash of color will be our last memory of what I once thought was a perfect marriage, my dear."

Then, changing the subject, I added, "here, on this thumb drive are videos from our bedroom of you and Dwayne doing the dirty. Even the bit you did anal. You need to tell everyone that the reason we broke up was because you cheated. If I hear from any friend or family member that you told them anything else besides that you cheated, they will get a thumb drive with you and your shit loving fuck-buddy going at it, and that goes for your parents, too. I love your parents, and what they think of me is important. I will drop them a thumb drive the first hint from them of anything other than the truth."

And then, "My lawyer's card is inside the file. Give it to your lawyer." I got up to leave.

I then added, "you might want to call the kids tonight. They are both very angry at you, especially our daughter. Best to start to make peace now with the kids."

"Oh, and be careful about this Dwayne fellow. Remember, he is a cheater. Finding out your lover has betrayed you is the worst pain imaginable."

Then I added sadly, "I did love you, Mary. I would have done anything for you. I wanted to grow old with you. If it's any consolation to you, this is not a happy ending for me."

Mary was stunned, just staring at me, trying to figure this all out. As she raised her gaze up to me, she said, "You can't walk away from your life here. You're bluffing. Where are you going?"

I didn't answer. I just walked out.

Once outside, I turned to look at the house, Mary followed me out and stood in front of the house, watching me leave. The look on her face was that of confusion. And that is how I left her.

DIVORCE

The next day Mary was served with divorce papers, and I was on my way west in my new RV.

Through the divorce process Mary got confirmation of what I had told her, about the extent of out wealth, my disposition by gift of most of it in irrevocable trusts to the kids, reserving myself a small income, about the cost of my Camper I was driving across the country, and about the mortgage she needed to pay in order to keep her beloved house. I had never hidden any of the information, but so long as she had me around, she had no need to dive into our finances. Whatever she wanted, she could have. She charged everything to our credit card and I would pay off the card.

Through my children, I was kept informed about Mary. The day I left, Mary went over to visit our daughter Jill in her apartment. She had started to try to explain that over the years people change, and that while she still loved her father, she wasn't in love with him and that is why it was time to move on. Jill listened patiently, and then when Mary had finished, she lit into her.

"Bullshit!" Jill barked. "What a bunch of bullshit. You carried on an affair behind my father's back for months with this creep, lying to my father every single day for months. This wasn't about moving on or growing apart, this was about betrayal!

"Do you even know how badly you hurt my father? Do you even care!? I had never seen my father cry, but when he came over and explained to me and Dave about your affair and about the divorce, he wept. He was a completely crushed man. You completely broke his heart."

Jill explained that Mary seemed surprised by her reaction. Afterwards, she had a drink "to steady her nerves" and after a short while, she left, her face drained of color.

Jill and her mom's relationship became chilly. My son, Dave, did keep in touch, and while his relationship was not nearly as warm as it was, he did try to be there for his mom. It was from Dave that I learned that Dwayne had moved in. It only lasted a couple of months. Their relationship after I was gone was not an easy one. Mary would describe Dwayne as bitter, always angry. She felt he blamed her for his own failed marriage. The final straw came soon after, when Mary's senior salesman retired. Mary was called on to recommend one of her other salesman for the position, which came with a bump in the commission rate. Dwayne thought he had it in the bag. But Mary selected someone else, a more senior member of her team whose sales figures were better than Dwayne's or anyone else's on the staff. Three days later, Dwayne left. Dave told me he thought Dwayne beat his mom up, because of the bruises he saw. Mary denied it.

I returned six months later for the divorce hearing. As expected, and despite Mary's attorney's efforts, the judge's order was in line with my request. Since I no longer had any control over the assets, they were no longer marital assets, and my wife could not share in them. He set alimony up at $1000 for five years. Also expected. Since I conceded to her the house whose equity was worth substantially more than my RV, he allowed me to keep the RV as my home. While Mary would be able to get by, she could no longer sustain the lifestyle she enjoyed with me. She immediately put the house up for sale.

Mary approached me after we had walked out of the courtroom. "You evil son of a bitch, you have deliberately ruined me. You couldn't stand the fact that I could have been happy. Your hate is so intense you ruined yourself just to ruin me. You are such an asshole. Well, fuck you!"

I looked at her calmly, said, "goodbye, Mary," turned and left.

With the house sold, Mary had a nice bit of money to play with, as did I. She got herself an apartment, and then she began her search for happiness in every bar in town, bedding down every willing dick she ran into. Both kids learned of this through friends who saw her. Mary's contact with Dave went from once a week to once a month. Jill just ignored her infrequent calls.

The Wedding.

Jill met a young fella, a nice guy, named Matt. I was camping in Alaska, when Jill called and told me that her fella had proposed to her and that she had accepted. I told her to envision her perfect wedding, ask her trustee, and it will be granted.

I also told Jill that I was on my way home and would probably make the drive in about three weeks. The drive down the Alaska Canadian highway was beautiful, but cell service was spotty. By the time I rolled into Edmonton, I found several calls from Mary's parents. I quickly returned the calls.

Talking to her folks, I learned that Mary had spiraled badly. She had lost her job because she showed up at work drunk at least twice and was frequently absent. She was still drinking heavily and spending the money she got from the sale of the house all too rapidly. Her mother was worried she was drinking herself to death.

I love Mary's parents. But I had to ask what I could do about it, Mary had thrown me away and I could tell she didn't want anything to do with me and blamed me for all her problems.

With that, Mary's mom, June, chuckled. "Oh, Ted, Mary figured out long before you two had made it to court that she had made the worst mistake of her life, that she had hurt the one man whose love was pure. I'm not saying you two will ever be able to get together, but she will listen to you. She has repeated much of what you said to her on the day you walked out on her, and she repeats, 'you were right' and that 'she was a fool.' If she pushed back, it was just her wounded pride speaking. Please speak to her. Try to talk to her about not drinking. I think you are the only person she will listen to at this point. Ted, she still loves you.

"I don't know about that. Does she know about Jill's wedding?"

"I don't think so. She hasn't returned my calls since Jill told us."

"Okay, June, let me call Jill first, and I promise I will try to talk to Mary. I am doing this for you, June. You know I am very hurt from what Mary as done."

"Yes, Ted, I know. We are all angry with her. But she is still my little girl."

"I'll call you back, soon."

I called Jill. She told me that she had gone over to Mary's apartment with her fiancé to tell her about the proposal. She had resisted telling her mom for a few days, but her fiancé persuaded her to give her the news.

It was late Saturday morning. Jill and her fiancé knocked on her apartment door. They knocked repeatedly until they heard stirrings within, but it was a while before the door was answered. Mary appeared at the door, with a very short gown wrapped around her, with little else on. She was a wreck and with the door opened, she had problems focusing and she smelled of alcohol.

Once she recognized Jill, she stood in the doorway with the door closed as far as it could to block seeing inside. Jill was stunned at her appearance. She knew that she had been drinking a lot, but she had never seen her mom as wasted as that morning. Recognizing her daughter, Mary tried to force a smile, but in her very hung-over condition, she had difficulty sustaining it.

Jill simply asked if they could come in. Mary said it really wasn't a good time. Then a male voice called out from inside, asking where the coffee was, and then a second male voice was heard asking if the other occupant could hold down the noise. Jill realized that her mom had been entertaining two men. Mary then stepped out onto the landing, closing the door behind her to hide whoever was inside her apartment. It was too late.

Jill asked who the men were inside with you. Mary answered that they were just some friends. Jill asked again if she and her fiancé could come inside, that they had something to tell her. Mary explained that they had better not, the apartment was a mess.

Just then the door cracked open, a naked man poked his head out, said hey to Jill, and asked if she was here to party, then handed Mary a mixed drink, saying, "hair of the dog, sweetie."

Mary said, no thanks and pushed the guy inside and closed the door.

Jill told her mother that whatever was going on was disgusting and she turned and started to walk away. Mary asked in an angry voice that if all she did was come over to disrespect her, she needn't have bothered. And that was it. The news was never delivered.

With a slightly fuller picture of what was going on, I called Mary.

"What do you want?" is how she answered my call.

"Hi, Mary. I have some news. How are you, by the way?

"Well spit it out, is it about the disrespect my daughter showed me earlier this week? Let me guess, you're broke and you can't pay the alimony."

"No dear, alimony will be coming as usual. Everything is okay in that department."

Mary continued with her suspicions, "then what is it, what cruel torture are you visiting upon me with this call."

"I sighed, "please, Mary, it is good news, nothing hurtful, I promise."

I paused, then added softly, "our little girl is getting married."

The other end of the line went silent for a moment. In a softer voice she asked "so is that why she came over?"

"Yes, it is. And we have a problem" I said. "our little girl is angry at you. Now she doesn't want you at her wedding. We must fix this. Your daughter needs you. You were a good mother. We need to remember we were once a family."

"What do you mean?"

"You need to have a relationship with our children. They both need you. And maybe you need them, too."

After yet another pause, Mary said, "She was rude to me. She disrespected me. If she comes and apologizes to me, maybe we can talk about her wedding, but not until."

"I was hoping we could find a way forward without anyone apologizing to anyone. Just try to remember the value of what we had and not focus so much on who said what."

"And let her get away with the horrible shit she said to me? That's not going to happen."

"Mary, please, you could lose your daughter over this."

"Next you are going to say that I should apologize to her. You forget, I bore that whiney little bitch."

I sighed, "Like I said, I'm hoping we can get past the apologies.

Mary then sighed, said "this conversation is getting boring" then hung up on me.

I called her parents, told them I tried, and explained that she was angry that her daughter objected to her lifestyle. "I tried" was all I could add. After the phone call, I continued in the direction of home.

The wedding took place in the small church that we all used to attend. It was very sweet, and there were a lot of old friends there. From the church we proceeded to the reception at a posh hotel downtown. Everyone was having a good time, there was music and dancing and good food and plenty to drink.

Then Mary showed up. Everyone hushed at her appearance.

Mary came up to me and started yelling. "You ruined my life! You son of a bitch! I'm going back to court and take you for everything you got." She was drunk.

I just stood there watching her rant, but after she paused to catch her breath, I said, "Mary, please, not here. Let's talk, but not here, this is your daughter's moment, don't steal it from her."

That seemed to make her even more angry. "You bastard, you even poisoned my children against me, my own daughter told me I couldn't even come to her wedding. Money that should be mine was spent on this extravaganza, while I got next nothing!"

With that, I walked out of the reception and over to my rental car. As expected, she followed me, just to harangue me. After a full five minutes of Mary screaming at me in the parking lot, I spoke. "I'm staying at the hotel. Meet me here in the morning at nine in their coffee shop and try to be sober. We will discuss what I can do for you, okay?"

By then her parents who had followed us out, came over and escorted her away. Her parting shot was "you fucking ruined my life." I didn't respond.

The next morning, Mary showed up with another woman. She promptly introduced herself as Mary's lawyer, announcing her demands, starting with an accounting of all monies I stole from the marital estate. I then asked, "do you always ambush unrepresented parties? Here's my attorney's card, talk to him. He's expecting your call." I said that as if it was a dismissal, which it was. I then left.

The next time I saw Mary was in court a month later at an emergency hearing. The attorneys argued, submitted their affidavits and the court ruled, all within the 15 minutes set aside for the emergency hearing. The Judge reaffirmed that at least preliminarily, the irrevocable trust was not a marital asset, that in the circumstances, the previously set alimony appeared sufficient as was the previous division of assts. He even refused Mary's lawyer's request that I pay her attorney's fees.

The loss to Mary of any part of my 12-million-dollar trusts devastated her, and as we walked out of the courtroom, she screamed at me, "I am going to appeal this. I will have my money!"

But she didn't appeal, nor did she follow up from the temporary hearing. She had exhausted her funds, so her lawyer quit and everything stopped. I left the next day, resuming my RV adventures.

Six months later I returned to visit my kids. My plan was to spend time catching up with my friends and spending more time with my children, whom I had missed terribly. Mary found out I was in town and called me.

We set up a meeting the next morning at the coffee shop near our old house. We used to go there every Saturday morning after the kids were old enough to be left on their own for a bit. I suggested it, and Mary responded softly with a "that would be nice."

Mary was already there when I showed up five minutes early. No lawyer ambush this time. She was sipping on a coffee at a booth we often used to sit at. I waved, got some coffee and joined her. She had lost weight. Her color seemed off. Her hair was stringy and was now completely grey. And her hands had a noticeable shake to them.

She started by apologizing. She told me that since the last court hearing, she had quit drinking and was going to meetings in a 12-step program. Her parents pretty much forced her into rehab since she was now broke, unemployed and needed their help.

She told me that she had made the dumbest mistake of all time, falling for Dwayne. She said thatshe had mistaken superficial praise and animalistic lust from an employee as love, and she had abandoned the one man who truly loved her for a romp with a young, ambitious man whose only talent was charm and the ability to make her feel young.

Mary then asked if I ever thought of her since I had left.

"No," I told her. "Being rejected by the person I thought of as my best friend and soulmate crushed me. I've only focused on moving on, getting the most from each day as it came since our marriage ended."

She teared up at that. "I can't move on. I tried to move on, but I just drank myself into a pit. I did things, bad things. I was trying to hide from the reality I made for myself."

I looked at her with no pity about the situation she found herself in. I acknowledged her statement by saying "so I've heard from our friends."

I finally asked, "but why? Why did you decide to throw it all away in the first place? Why wasn't I enough?" I spoke with a little more emotion than I wanted.

"I wish I knew" was her sad response. "Partly, the empty nest thing, I guess. Being a Mom was what I thought of myself for so long, that when the kids moved out, I was lost. Partly the approach of menopause, which jacked up my feelings. I was lonely from all the work you were doing. Boredom. Getting older and yearning for youth. A desire to do something new, exciting, something dangerous, something bad. I guess all of that, and anger and jealousy towards you for being so successful in your career, while my career had hit a dead end. Why is a question I ask myself every day, and best I can come up are partial answers."

She shifted the conversation to my road adventures. I told her about the beautiful places I had been. About the great national parks out west, about the Canadian Rockies, about the Alaska-Canadian highway.

Mary then asked if I was seeing anyone. "You mean besides the couple of dozen escorts I have been spending my money on? No, no one special."

She looked surprised.

"No, just joking. No escorts. No one special. Actually, no one at all."

Mary just staired at the table on hearing that, then interrupted me, telling me, "yeah, it was only later that I realized I gave up a good lover for a mediocre one, I gave up a generous lover for selfish one." She then added, "And then I gave up entirely and settled for a series of very poor, greedy lovers. When I was in that pit, I was looking for validation to rebuild my confidence. The only think I validated was that I was badly fucked up."

Then abruptly she changed the subject and through the force of will seem to gather strength enough to bring up something new and clear out the tears.

"I want to ask you to help me with the kids. I don't deserve any help. I know this situation is entirely of my own making. I know you never poisoned our children against me, the only thing you did was tell them the truth. So I have no right to ask you, but I am asking, will you talk to the kids and help me establish some kind of relationship with them. I will not be able to stay sober without my kids. I won't be able to make it without my kids."

I reached out, took Mary's hand into mine, looked deeply into her eyes, and said, "of course. But only on the condition you stay sober. If you do that for me, I will work to normalized things within what's left of our family."

She smiled, "thank you, Ted."

Our conversation drifted back to the days we used to frequent this coffee shop, the simple issues we had to resolve then. To the days we could take our love for granted, which was a remark I made and resulted in a perceptible sigh from Mary. We continued to talk about the old days, the memorable times with the kids, and then the kids' future, that looked as bright as ours did once.

She asked what my plans were. I told her about hitting the road. I wanted to visit all 49 states accessible by my RV and I still had a score more to go. She then said that it sounds exciting. Much more exciting than her own plans. I just smiled. I then asked if I could drive her home, noticing her car was missing. She explained that she had lost her license to DUI some time ago. She agreed to accept a ride to her apartment.

Driving back to my RV, I was overwhelmed with nostalgia. Being with Mary, the old Mary that I married and who built a family with me was electric. This was the Mary who was so easy to talk to. Was this merely a flash of the old Mary, was the deceitful cheating Mary just resurrecting the old Mary to manipulate me. Or was old Mary truly back. I couldn't tell, but I couldn't get this overwhelming feeling of my old Mary out of my head.

I knew better than to believe in things like soulmates, the idea of there being one love for each of us was not logical. I didn't believe it intellectually, but my heart, or what was left of it, was fond of this myth.

I knew people could change. We are the sum of our parents: their genes and their parenting; also things we experience in life, our age, and things that change our body chemistry: hormones, alcohol, and drugs and last but not least, our own free will. Any of that impacts who we are. If Mary could change from a good wife and mother to a whore and drunk, she could change back. But even if she did change, she could also revert back to her darker self later on. I pondered all these things and wondered and worried about the old Mary, the woman I still loved.

I found myself in an internal debate. Could Mary and I reconcile? Logically, it was a question of the risk vs. benefit. The risk was enormous. She was fully capable of being a vicious, petty, thieving slut and could cause me significant psychic harm. The benefit on the other hand was nebulas. The was no real chance of regaining the life I loved. Going back would not be the same. The other line of the debate, the gut level one, just wanted my old life back, my old Mary back, damn the risk and damn also the odds of future happiness with her.

That evening I talked to the kids about engaging with their mother. It was not easy. They asked why I was ready to forgive her. I told them this wasn't about me; it was about them and their mother. She was always a good mother. She loves you two very much and she would never betray you. They insisted that she did betray them when she destroyed their family. But I explained that she had hurt herself by what she did nearly as much as she hurt us, and me. And I landed on my feet. I have everything I want, and she has nothing. I told them about her problems with alcohol, her problems finding a job.

In the end they agreed to a meeting. I arranged it. The meeting would be at a restaurant across from my RV park. Mary had never seen my RV.

That Saturday, I drove Mary to the restaurant. The kids had already arrived, Margaret with her new husband, and Dave with his most recent girlfriend. It was at first quiet and awkward, but Mary was able to finally get a conversation started by asking about grandchildren. After Margaret talked about her plans, Margaret turned on Dave, which embarrassed him a little in front of his girlfriend, who enjoyed watching him turn red on the subject. We spent a full two hours eating lunch, talking, and drinking too much coffee. I finally walked everyone out to my RV. Everyone claimed to be impressed.

Then the questions turned to me, asking about my next road trip. I told them I expected that I would be leaving in a couple of weeks or so.

The kids then announced it was time for them to get back to their lives and with that they said their goodbyes. Mary went to give them a hug, but their body language suggested that no one was quite ready for that.

After the kids had left, Mary sighed, turned to me and said, "thanks for trying. It was more than I deserved."

"Oh, give them a bit more time. You made progress today." At that moment I had a strange impulse. With little additional thought, I just went with it. "I just might have an idea that might bring them around a little quicker" I said. "Maybe." I added as an afterthought.

"What would that be?" she looked at me with a curious face.

"Well, walk back to the RV with me, just for few minutes, and I'll tell you."

On board, I pulled out a couple of soft drinks from the refrigerator.

"So, what is your plan?" she asked with the hint of the lovely smile I remembered from before the shit.

"Well, first, let me tell you the truth about these road trips. Driving these little monsters can get tiring. They aren't at all like driving my Mercedes. At my age, I have a hard time making it to five hours.

"Next, these campgrounds all look great on their websites, but many of them are not really so nice.

"Third, a lot of these parks are very social. But there will be days that you talk to no one.

Mary interrupted, "Why are you telling me this?"

A long pause followed. I gave her a small smile. Her eyes started to water, then, after a moment, her eyes overflowed with tears.

"Are you asking me?"

"I'm taking a horrible risk, but yes, I am asking you."

With that she wrapped her arms around me and gave me the tightest hug. I could feel her body tremble as she quietly sobbed. We stood in our mutual embrace for what seemed like half an hour but was probably less than two minutes. I broke the embrace.

"But I have to do some things to manage the risk I am taking. There are some pretty tough ground rules I have to insist on:

First, we won't leave until I teach you how to drive this little monster. I don't intend to rely on you to drive, but you need to know.

Second, while I am driving, no criticisms, no arguments. You can complain about my cooking, my hygiene, about just about everything else when we are not riding, but while I am driving, gentle conversation only.

Third, we are doing this as friends. No commitment. If we reach a park and you want to leave, you just say so and I'll pay the airfare home. Likewise, if I tire of you, I can kick you off anytime, no matter why, and I'll pay the airfare. But no other promises. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Maybe, if the kids see that we can get along it might make it easier for them to try."

"Is that why you are doing this?"

"Yes. Oh, and also, it turns out my love for you is unconditional. Even after you crushed my heart, I am still deeply in love with you, so much so I am taking a mind-numbingly stupid chance on you. But loving you does not mean I can live with you. This would be an experiment."

"One more thing. The money I gave away is not coming back. What you see is what you get."

Another pause. "A second chance? I don't think I deserve a second chance. I not only betrayed you, I was very cruel about it. I don't think my saying I am sorry is enough." she said softly.

"Of course you don't deserve this. And if you hurt me again, well, I will have deserved that for being so foolish. And saying sorry isn't enough. You still have to earn it. I'm just giving you the chance.

"Rule 4. Absolutely no alcohol under any circumstances, even in a park. And you will attend any AA meetings we find near us.

"Rule 5. And so long we are on this roadtrip, you can't have sex with anyone else, not even flirting. I have finally settled down my bad humors, and if they pop up again, I won't like it, and you will like it even less. Understand."

"I understand."

Wiping her tears away, she continued, "what I did was so horrible, so hurtful, so selfish, I don't ever deserve forgiveness."

"Of course you don't. Forgiveness is not about what you deserve, if it was, then forgiveness would be a simple transaction, a Quid pro quo. That is not what it is, it is a gift, a gift from the one harmed to the wrongdoer. It is also a gift to me to myself. It relieves the giver of the bitterness of seeking to balance the spreadsheet, when no such balance will restore anything. Evening the score only makes everyone miserable. At least, forgiveness might also inspire the wrongdoer to be a better person. I forgive you because I love you. I always have and I always will. I hope this forgiveness is an aid to you being a better person, but whether it is or not, it might help me figure out what I need to be.

"Does that mean you will trust me again?"

"Oh, hell no. What you did before nearly killed me. If it happens again, it may yet kill me. We are not back together. I don't see marriage in our future. What might lie ahead is a friendship, maybe even a lifelong, exclusive friendship. But you cannot commit to me as a wife. That, my dear, is a one-time thing, and it is forever broken. Forgiveness does not restore things to where they used to be. It merely unburdens the future so we both can go forward."

"Will our friendship be exclusive? I mean will you be exclusive so long as we are friends."

"The better question is will we be honest with each other? I will, and I am taking a risk that you will be too."

"Final rule. You need a VD test before we leave. I will take a test and give you the results, too."

She grimaced at that one, but did silently nod agreement.

EPILOGUE

It would be two months before we would leave on our "voyage of reconciliation" as I called it. It took that long to get our two children to get over their shock and start their own path toward reconciliation. It also took that long for the antibiotics to clean up Mary.

The voyage lasted two years. We made it to Yellowstone, Glacier, Zion, the Grand Canyon, Vancouver, the Canadian Rockies, and dozens of places in between. We did a Fall starting in New England and following the peak leaves to North Georgia. We stayed at some places for a few days and other places for a couple of months.

We were a loving couple again. Yes, it was difficult to suppress the anger of her betrayal, but that was my one task, and I succeeded enough to create a relationship and, well, maybe even a shot at happily ever after, or at least close enough. I remain cautiously suspicious, but she knows to accept my suspiciousness as the consequence of her earlier failure as a wife.

We have not remarried and probably won't. To hell with the tax benefit of remarrying, I'll pay the extra taxes.

And for the record: I found out I am an impulsive, go with your gut kind of guy.