Rewards of Discretion

Rewards of Discretion

This is a repost of a 2010 story that has been edited.

I was a rich and powerful man; no brag, just fact. I had money, position, and respect. I also had a quite beautiful wife. She was fitting of my stature, but I had acquired her under false pretenses. There lies my dilemma.

In the 1960's, a man in my position needed a wife. Although I am very competent at almost everything I do, I have weaknesses. One of them, which was a big one, was dealing with the opposite sex. The biggest difficulty I have ever faced was finding a suitable woman to be my bride and convincing her to marry me. Finding a woman was easy with my wealth and position, but weeding out the gold diggers made it a lot harder. A woman will tell you anything if she has a chance to marry for money; at least most of them will.

Marisol was different. I courted her in the old fashion way and I truly believed that she accepted my marriage proposal because she was attracted somewhat to me, and not to my money. She was sincere about our relationship and it made my decision easier. She was attractive with Mediterranean features and a robust body. Although she was a few years younger than I was, we were compatible as a couple.

During our year-long courtship, we were never intimate. I think she was willing, but it just was not possible. I never told her why until our honeymoon. She cried the entire night. I was never certain if she was crying for me or herself.

I am, and always have been, totally unable to achieve an erection. All of my money and all of the fancy doctors in the world were unable to help. The medical journals claimed that in thirty or forty years they would have pills and devices that could help me, but there was nothing as of now. I craved the intimacy that I knew I would never have, but I also craved companionship. My deception was cruel, but if I had told her before the wedding, I was afraid that she would have never gone through with it.

To compensate for my deception, I went overboard. I spared nothing when I bought her jewelry, clothing, and trinkets. She seemed to realize that I was trying to atone for the deception and was as gracious as could be expected under the circumstances.

Marisol was more than willing to teach me the skills needed to orally satisfy her. I was an eager and willing student, but it still left a large gap in our sexual relationship.

We shared the same bedroom and the same bed. She was always more than willing to cuddle and kiss. Our home life was pleasant and she was a perfect companion at any social events. I felt guilty about how I tricked her into the marriage, but she never seemed to hold it against me.

Tonight, after five years, it was necessary to approach the dilemma differently.

The servants were gone for the evening and we were sitting quietly in the drawing room. She was deeply engrossed in one of the latest mystery novels and I was staring blankly at a copy of one of today's financial journals.

"Marisol. Could we talk for a few minutes?"

"Of course, Henry. What would you like to talk about?"

"Your demeanor for the last few months. You seem to be depressed. I miss your perkiness."

I put my paper down and watched her closely.

"I am sorry, Henry. You are right, of course. I'll try and do a little better."

"No. No. That is not acceptable. I don't want you to have to try to be happy. I want you to be happy. Putting on a phony front just won't do it."

Marisol dog-eared the page that she was reading and put the book down. "Can you be a little bit more specific, dear? What exactly would you like me to do? What would be acceptable?"

She was not being arrogant or argumentative. She was asking in an honest, forthright manner.

"I have something in mind, however, I want to make sure that the solution that I propose is acceptable to you before I implement it."

"You are being too cryptic, Henry. You know that I am not as clever as you are. What do you have in mind? Did I do something to displease you in any way? If so, I am sorry and I will be careful not to do it again."

"You know I don't like it when you do that."

"What, dear?"

"Blame yourself like that. Our relationship is perfect, except for the problem that I brought into it. The one that we never discuss. You cannot be responsible for that. It belongs on my shoulders and mine alone. I am not accusing you of anything. I love you too much to do that."

She gave me a small smile when I mentioned that I loved her. She didn't return the compliment, but that was okay because under the circumstances it would have sounded phony anyway.

"Marisol. Three months ago everything was fine. You seemed happy and the marriage was good. All of a sudden, things became gloomy. Can you explain what happened?"

I noticed a small tear in her eye. I had entered a sensitive area; one that I had little experience with. I could negotiate great financial and political matters with no problem, but I was unable to talk with my wife about personal things.

Marisol looked over at me without speaking. Her dark eyes glistened from the moisture of her tears. She was struggling to look calm but was slowly losing the battle. My conversation was drifting into areas that we always avoided. She didn't want to go there, but then, neither did I.

"Darling, why did you stop seeing Timothy Hancock?"

She gave me a startled look and then buried her head in her hands. She was now visibly crying, but still trying to hide it.

I got up and poured us both a glass of Rose. I was now upset with myself because I brought this grief upon her. She nodded a small thank you as she took the wine from me.

"Henry. If you know about Timothy then you know why I stopped seeing him."

Things were quiet for a few moments. We both took small sips from our glasses and Marisol attempted to wipe away some of the tears from her cheeks with the back of her hand. It didn't work.

"Timothy seemed like a nice fellow. What did he do to displease you?"

"If you must know, he didn't do anything. I decided to stop seeing him."

Marisol got up and walked across the room. She returned with a small box of tissues and started to blow her nose.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why the hell did you stop seeing him?"

"Because I was starting to like him. He was a great guy and I didn't want anything to happen to him."

"That doesn't make sense."

"Can I have some more wine, please?"

I filled both glasses and sat down.

"Were you afraid that I would think that you were going to run off with him or something?"

"No, Henry, I would never leave you. You are my life and my love. Don't you ever believe that I would forsake you for another? I love you, Henry. I truly and deeply love you."

"That is comforting to know. I guess what I am trying to say is that you seemed so much happier when you were spending time with him."

"Damn it, Henry. Quit talking in circles. It is quite obvious that you know that I was having an affair with Timothy. I didn't want you to find out, but we all know that it is impossible to keep secrets from a man like you, isn't it?"

"You didn't want to hurt me?"

Marisol looked at me with pleading, innocent eyes. What I said was true, but it was hard for her to admit that without doing exactly what she was trying to avoid doing. She didn't want to hurt me.

"Are you upset with me for being unfaithful?"

"No dear. You made every effort to be discreet. I have never been upset with you. It is totally my fault for not being up-front with you before the wedding."

"Don't say that. You couldn't help it. Just because you couldn't perform in the bedroom does not make you less of a husband. I do love you, Henry. Always remember that, no matter what happens."

I smiled at my wife and she seemed to relax a little.

"It was my weakness that made me connect with Timothy. I should have been stronger. I should have resisted. If you are going to blame anyone, Henry, blame me."

"Marisol, don't talk like that. I created the problem and you just took it upon yourself to find a solution. You were doing the right thing to correct a wrong that I created."

"Should I have talked to you first? Would that have made it all right?"

"Why didn't you?"

"I was afraid that it would open up some wounds that were best covered. I always tried not to do anything that would draw attention to your problem. Discussing something like that could be very sensitive to your ego. I didn't want to hurt you."

"So you decided to cheat?"

"That is harsh, Henry. It wasn't cheating. I was just looking for a solution that would not hurt you. I am sorry. It was a poor choice on my part."

"Actually, it wasn't that bad. Your whole demeanor changed for the better."

"What do you mean?"

"When you were seeing your lovers, you seemed happier and more carefree. You were fun to be around and it made the whole marriage better."

"You always knew and you never said anything. Why?"

"When you were happy, I was happy."

"But, why?" She was stammering, trying to look for words. "If it didn't bother you, why did you..?"

It was an incomplete sentence. Even under the circumstances, she couldn't bring herself to admit more than she had already. I had put her into a corner and left her with no way out.

Marisol was waiting for me to explain what I had done to her previous lovers. At some time during her first few months with Timothy, she had figured out that her former lovers had disappeared for a reason. She was right of course, because I had made them disappear. She made the connection but was afraid to confront me.

"Is that why you stop seeing Timothy?"

She gave me a quizzical look. All she knew was that her two former sex partners had left without saying a word. Apparently, she concluded that I had discovered her dalliances and caused her lovers to vanish. She was right of course. They were both dead and would not be seen or heard from again.

"Yes. At some time during my relationship with Timothy, I started to like him. In fact Henry, I think I was falling in love with him. Not the same way that I love you, but different. I wasn't looking to replace you, but I was looking to fill the voids that existed between us. With the others, it was just sex, but with Timothy, it was more than that. It was satisfying and filling. I think that he loved me and it showed. He didn't want me just for the sex. I had to get rid of him. He had to go."

"Why? If he was completing you, why did you abandon him?"

"I didn't abandon him. I was trying to save him."

"From what?"

"From you, damn it. From you and from me."

"It wasn't the same, Marisol. Nothing was the same."

"Henry, I didn't want to share my love for you with him. I love you Henry and that will never stop, but I was afraid that as my feelings for him grew, my feelings for you would diminish. I couldn't take that chance."

"Is that it?"

"No. I also didn't want him to get hurt or mysteriously disappear." For some reason, she gave me an impish little grin when she said that.

"John Turrell was bragging to all of his golf buddies about the sex sessions that he was having with you. He seemed to think it was macho to be hanging the horns on a man of my position. Daniel Baskins was planning on getting some explicit photos of the two of you together and then blackmailing you. You did a poor job of selecting your first two lovers.'

Marisol groaned as she buried her head in her hands again.

"I am so sorry, Henry. I tried so hard to keep it from you, but I had no way of controlling them."

I filled the wine glasses again.

"Timothy on the other hand is an up-right guy."

She sat straight up in her chair. "What does that mean?"

"He is smart, hard-working, and very discreet."

"What are you trying to say?"

"I talked to him yesterday."

"About what? You didn't threaten him or anything did you? I haven't seen him in three months, Henry. Honest."

"No. I just interviewed him for a position."

"What kind of position?"

"I decided that I needed a personal assistant. It is a 24/7 type job and it would require him to live here at the house."

"This is a joke of some kind. You are not being funny, Henry."

"Timothy and I spent three hours together yesterday. He was quite nervous at first, but by the time we were done, we were the best of friends. I can see why you were attracted to him."

"Henry, you are not gay, are you?"

"No, dear. Not at all."

"Are you saying that it is going to be all right for Timothy and I to get together here at the house?"

"I insist upon it. I don't want you running around to motels and such and I don't want you to have to keep secrets from me. Of course, I don't expect you to flaunt your sexual escapades in front of me either."

"Open, but discreet."

"Exactly."

"I love you, Henry Wilcox. You are the best husband a woman could ever have."

By this time, she was on my lap. I was rewarded with a few great kisses, that were not at all platonic.

"Come on, Henry. Let's go to bed. I'll give you a really great back rub."

"You know, Marisol. I wouldn't mind a Henry Wilcox Junior running around the house either. Do you think that you and Timothy could take care of that?"