Playing Away

I wish to thank Soapin Girl, Dan C and Jalibar62 for their editorial support. In fairness to them, after their input there were still areas where I was unhappy with the story and I have dicked around with it a fair bit. All mistakes, therefore are mine and not a reflection on their good work.

This is a UK based story with a number of UK idioms, so please be understanding if you're not sure what a word or a phrase means here or there.

Nothing controversial with this one. I am the author and do not give permission for this story to be posted somewhere else or put on Youtube with a few words changed!

As ever, comments and feedback appreciated.

Playing Away

Chapter One

'The most beautiful thing we can experience is mystery.'

Tamara Harrison stood in line to scan her passport and shifted her travel case down on the ground. It was a backpack with a telescopic handle enabling it to be pulled on a pair of wheels. She flexed her shoulders, rotating them and enjoying the absence of the bag's weight. The queue wasn't too long. She looked at it with the eye of a seasoned traveller, estimated it'd take five to ten minutes before she was stood waiting for a free machine.

She was tired from her trip. She made the same trip each month. A week in the company plant in Germany, providing support. Occasionally she would travel to other company sites, but the German site was her primary responsibility and she took it seriously. It had been a good week, she'd done everything she needed to at work, no dramas. Tonight, she'd be back with her family, enjoying the happiness her return generated.

After making her way through security, she would grab a taxi to get her home. Her husband, William - had dropped her off on Sunday night. Which wasn't what normally happened. Usually, she drove herself and used the short-term car park for the week. Her company was paying, so she didn't worry too much about the cost. This time William had offered and she wasn't going to say no. It gave her more time with him.

He'd been a bit funny the last month, a bit squirrely and distant from her. Kind of off, but not really doing anything she could call him on. It was discomforting, but between their jobs and being parents, life was busy. It was a nice gesture from him to drive her to the airport. It gave them the chance to chat in the car, to hold the world still for a short while before reality intruded once again. Now she had the pleasure of forty minutes in a taxi before she got to see her family again. Still, it was easier than driving. She could look out the window and get her head back into UK mode before she got home.

She nudged her bag with her foot as the queue shuffled forward, listening with half an ear as a young man explained to his girlfriend how to position her passport so the machine could read it. She smiled, young love, the optimism of youth. Poor buggers, they'd learn.

She made her way through security and out the exit. She had her head down and was tugging her bag behind her, thinking of where the taxi rank was. Trying not to get in anyone's way, when she heard her name called. She paused; it was definitely her name. She looked around, surprised as she wasn't expecting to be met. She didn't recognise her father at first, he was very much out of place and context.

He had a cold, angry look on his face as he walked over to her.

"Good evening, Tamara. Is there any more luggage or is that it?"

"Hey Dad." Tamara said, smiling and moving closer to hug him. "What're you doing here?"

He stepped back so she couldn't hug him. "I'm here to collect you. Do you have any more bags or cases?"

She shook her head, confused at seeing him and his rebuffal. She was surprised seeing him here, there was no plan for him to pick her up. He'd never done that before. He was in his late sixties and lived a farther half hour from the airport than she did.

"No. Dad, is everything OK? Are the kids alright?"

He gave her a curt nod. "As far as I'm aware, they're all fine. Come on, your Mum is waiting for us."

"She came as well? Dad, look, what's going on? I don't understand, why are you here? Why are you picking me up? Is Will all right?"

"We can talk in the car. Come on, the parking here costs an arm and a bloody leg. I don't want to waste my month's pension on it."

He turned and stalked away.

"And why is your damn phone not working? I've been trying to call you all day."

"I don't know. It gave up the ghost this morning. Some kind of problem with the service provider. Will can sort it out tomorrow."

Tamara began to follow, chasing after him quickly to try and catch up. He was a tall man with a military, upright bearing. He was walking too fast for her to both keep up and hold a conversation. She could feel from her father's tone and his words something wasn't right. He looked upset, angry, like he was barely keeping a lid locked down on his temper. His demeanour was so different from the father she normally loved to spend time with.

Her legs were aching by the time they reached the car, parked as it was on the third floor of the multi-storey garage. As they wove through the parked cars, her father striding off in front she wondered what the hell was going on. Her father wasn't happy, was barely talking to her at all. Something was wrong, something had happened. She saw the car and opened the back door. Her mother sat in the passenger seat. She looked tired, her face drawn.

"Hi Mum, what's going on?"

"Get in and belt up." Her father grunted as he sat himself down.

She stood still, thinking, half in, half out of the door.

"No." she said, her voice clear and resolute. "I'll be damned if I'm going anywhere until I understand what's going on."

"Close the door and get your seat belt on. Right now."

Tamara stepped out of the car and closed the door behind her. She didn't know what was going on, but she wasn't a child and wasn't going to be treated like one. She'd get a taxi home like she planned and work things out from there. No more bloody games! She began to walk back towards the stairs.

"Tamara!" Her father called out. He was stood half in the car. The impatience in his voice was evident.

"Save it, Dad," she replied, her voice clear as she turned and looked at him. "I'll get a taxi home."

"No, you won't." her father said. His voice controlled, but with a crispness that suggested barely constrained anger underneath the calm. "William has kicked you out. You're staying with us until you get things sorted. Now get in the bloody car so we can get going."

It was as if the world stopped spinning, like she was outside her body watching as it happened to her. She was struggling to stand. Her legs, strong from exercise and years of use, didn't seem to be able to hold her up. She could feel herself wobble. She could see her father striding towards her and he half caught her. It was an imperfect hold, more of a gentle fall to the ground so she didn't hurt herself.

"Tamara! Come on. Let's get you in the car, let's get going home. We can talk when we get there."

He walked her back to the car, struggling as they moved between the parked cars. Walking her like a newborn foal. The limited space made it hard to walk side by side together. They got her inside the car. She was able to strap herself in as she watched her father climb into the driver's seat and start the car moving.

It was a quiet drive home. Tamara couldn't remember much of it; she wasn't aware of much of it. She heard what her father had said but it didn't really make sense. William, her husband, had kicked her out? She was going to her parent's house, not going home to her own house? She stared in silence out of the window as the world whipped by.

When they got to her parent's house, Tamara walked in and saw the cardboard boxes. All her stuff, her belongings, her life, now in cardboard boxes stacked higgledy-piggledy in her parent's living room. Reality was beginning to sink in. The words heard in the car park were registering. Her husband, the father of her children, the man she'd been married to for over twenty years had kicked her out of their house and she was now here, living with her parents.

It made sense and it didn't make sense. She looked with impotent fury at her phone, willing it to work. But as she opened the screen, she could see the uncaring icon telling her there was no signal. Incommunicado; she couldn't call and speak. What had appeared to be an irritating frustration this morning was more ominous now. She walked through to the kitchen to join her parents. They were sitting at the kitchen table. There was a cup of steaming tea in front of an empty chair. She sat down with them.

"Thank you," she said to her mother.

"My phone doesn't work. I'm guessing Will has cut the service," she said in a flat tone. Her Dad nodded at her words.

"He came by this morning and dropped off your things. He said that if you were missing anything to write it down and he'd sort it out for you."

"That's it?" There was a note of incredulity in Tamara's voice. That was all he'd said? It didn't make sense.

"Nope. He sat down with us and had a coffee. I'd swear he'd aged five years since we'd last seen him. He looked tired, old, and absolutely wiped out."

On the table there was a large brown envelope. Tamara nodded her head towards it.

"Is that for me?" She asked. Her father nodded.

She reached for it and pulled it across the table to her. She could feel her heart beating in her chest. She ripped a corner and easing her finger into the hole. She sawed it across, opening the top of the envelope. She carefully pulled out the pile of papers inside. On the top was a letter with her name at the top of the page. Just her name, no "dear" or anything like that, nothing to soften it. Just her name. A shiver ran up her back, as she prepared herself for the contents.

"Tamara,

I've decided, chosen to end our marriage. In this envelope are signed divorce papers. Please read and review the terms I've proposed. Sign the papers where indicated and either return them in the pre-paid envelope to my solicitor or pass them to my parents.

I've been fair. I'll be the custodial parent; the boys will spend the bulk of their time with me as they have done for years. You can have generous visitation. I am happy to make it an even fifty-fifty time split if you want.

Financially, I'm suggesting our finances are split fifty-five to forty-five, favouring me as the custodial parent. I'll remain in the house until Greg has left for university or turned nineteen, whichever happens sooner. At which point the house will be sold and the proceeds split in line with our other finances. Included in this agreement are the monies you've been keeping in your German bank account. The one you neglected to tell me about. The balance is in the settlement attached to the papers.

This isn't a negotiation, rather it is an amicable solution to the problem you gave me when I discovered what was going on. Reconciliation isn't on the table, nor will it be. I don't imagine you want it. But even if you did, I can't conceive any combination of words that would change my mind.

Should you decide not to sign, then the amicable solution will be off the table. We will all have to deal with the consequences of that decision.

You can't get in touch with us. I've taken the boys away for a few weeks holiday, a chance for them to understand the changes we're making to the family and come to terms with them. The boys' phones won't work, and I've changed my number. I'm not going to respond to email and as you don't know where we are, good luck trying face to face. We will be back, before school restarts at the very latest.

Our home isn't your home any longer and you're not welcome there. The locks have been changed and all your stuff passed over to your parents for safe keeping. Please respect our privacy. If there is something I've missed, tell my parents and in time I will return it. But I think I've gotten everything.

Have a long think about how we got here. Speak to the people around you and bear in mind they will be affected by the choices you make. Take good advice.

Choose wisely.

William"

She read it through twice and passed it across to her father. She started to look through the divorce proposal. She could feel tears prickling in her eyes, blurring the words as she tried to read. It was as he said, he'd been fair. Visitation was deferred as subject to agreement, but the rest of it was clear.

Her father passed the letter across to her mother.

"Stay here tonight, Tamara and we'll give you a lift over there tomorrow. Maybe the two of you can have a conversation. Fix this, if you can although it appears a bit late now."

She looked up at him, wiping her eyes.

"I don't think so, Dad." She scowled. "He's taken the kids away on holiday."

"Without you?" Her mother challenged.

"Yep. He's the primary carer, isn't he? He can do that and he has."

"That's damn cruel." Her father observed.

Tamara shrugged. She didn't think it was intended to be cruel, just to give him space and why shouldn't he take the kids with him? He did spend more time with them, looking after them. It made any hope of a reconciliation harder for her.

"When he came over what did he say?" She asked, her voice soft.

"He asked how we were, had a cup of tea with us. The kids were watching telly in the lounge. He asked us to pick you up at the airport, telling us when and where. I asked him why and he said the two of you were splitting up."

He stopped for a sip from his cup. Tamara could see him pulling himself together.

"We asked why, he wouldn't tell us. Just that you guys were finished. He said the divorce was all laid out in the envelope and asked us to be there to give you support. He was sorry and if there was anything we could do, it would be to persuade you to take the amicable solution."

"Did he say what would happen if I didn't?"

Tamara saw her dad shake his head. "I think the threat is clear."

"He didn't say anything else?"

"Nope, said he was sorry, collected the kids and left."

"Shit, shit, shit." Tamara swore, she saw her mother nod her head at her words.

"I think honey, you need to tell us what's going on."

Chapter Two

'The Great Escape'

William Harrison stood in line at passport control. His three children were with him. Greg, his youngest, was sticky from a lollipop William had given him. Without thinking he reached into the pocket of his shoulder bag and passed across a wipe to clean his hands and face. It was a meandering, listless queue. He'd been expecting that and had prepared the boys for a wait. School holidays were always going to be an exercise in patience, especially at a popular tourist destination such as Orlando.

They were fortunate as a family. While the big earner in the family was Tamara, William punched well above the national average wage and they didn't have to scrimp or save. When he wanted to get away with the children, he had options. A surprise three-week holiday to Disney World wasn't out of his budget and such a trip meant Mum's absence wasn't at the forefront of the boys" minds. If she didn't sign within the three weeks, Florida had enough other distractions to protract the trip and not have to worry about the boys missing home.

He looked at the watch and did the mental gymnastics to work out the UK time. She'd be at home with her parents. She should have read the letter by now and was probably wondering what the hell had happened. She was in for a nasty couple of weeks. Not knowing what was going on, wondering who knew what. Learning it wasn't nice, being the one in the dark.

He shuffled forward with the boys and their shoulder bags as the queue inched along Three weeks of fun, sun, and relaxation. Just what the doctor ordered after the shitshow that was the last six months. This would repair some of the damage. Help him feel human again. While he was doing that and the boys were having fun, she'd be stressing. For her, there was only one way out, sign the papers. End their marriage. He knew she didn't want that outcome. It would be anathema for her, she'd be trying to work out a solution that didn't end with her signature.

It took half an hour to get through security. A little less to collect their luggage and wend their way out of the airport. They'd booked a transfer to their resort in Disney's village and gratefully caught it. They were all eyes as they made their way to the hotel. The signs, the traffic, the noise, the heat, and humidity all unfamiliar yet fascinating. He knew they'd sleep well tonight.

The cool of the hotel's air conditioning was as welcome as it was novel. They checked into their suite and explored, agreeing who was sleeping where. The large double bed was reserved for William and he sank into its soft embrace with an appreciative groan.

"Dad. What's down there?"

He pushed himself off the bed and ambled over to the window. He walked out onto the balcony, scowling as the heat hit him. He laughed as he looked down.

"Boys, grab your trunks and a towel," he called out as he quickly moved to get changed.

"What is it?" Greg asked, stripping.

"It's called a lazy river. You'll love it. Now chop-chop, get changed and we can go down there and hang out for a few hours."

That was their first afternoon on US soil. Sitting on inflatables in the hotel's lazy river. Laughing and squealing as the patient current spun them around in relaxed circuits. Getting splashed by water jets, drenched by waterfalls, and dunking each other as time passed happily. There was a bar and William kept them hydrated, covered in sunscreen, and helped manage their energy.

Mindful of the time difference, he called his parents back home in England, catching his father before he went to bed.

"Hey Dad."

"Hey Bill, how're you and the boys?"

"All good. They're in the pool. I can see them from where I'm sat."

His dad laughed. "Hotel good?"

"All I was hoping for. We got here early afternoon and we're lounging around in the water. The sun's shining and they're not going to run out of beer anytime soon. The boys are pretty knackered from the flights. Burgers for tea, I reckon and then an early night."

"Heard anything from Tamara?"

"Not going to, Dad. The boys" phones don't work over here and I've got a new number. She doesn't know where we are, what we're doing or how to get in touch."

"Still seems cruel to me. Just saying. The boys are hers as well."

"Yep, I get it. It's cruel. Think of it as my personal blitzkrieg. The hard fast strike at the start of the war that ends it quickly."

"Risks escalation. She's going to be pissed." His dad observed. "Think she'll take the amicable option?"

"I'd prefer it if she did, Dad. But it's her choice. I'm up for the fight if she decides to take that route."

"She's not been in touch yet. All is quiet on the Western front."

Bill laughed. "She will. When she finds the house, all shut up and no-one home, she'll come to you next. She's going to be a regular visitor for the next little while. She'll know I'm in touch with you and she'll exert pressure."

His dad chuckled. "Bring it on. I want to hear what she has to say."

"You and me both, Dad. I'll be interested to hear if she offers anything up. My guess is she'll fish but not offer much up herself."

"Don't worry, whichever it is, I'll share it with you."

"Dad, I'm going to go. I'm absolutely shish kebabbed. I'll ring soon, OK?"

"No worries, Kid. Stay safe and pass our love on to the boys."

It was an early night, that night.

--------------------------------------------------

Three days later, William checked in with his father again.

"Hey Dad."

"Hey Kiddo. How's tricks?"

"All good over here. The boys are having a blast. We spent the day at a water park. I don't think I've laughed so much in years. They're killing me. I picked the right ages to bring them here. They play all day, eat like pigs, and sleep all night."

His dad laughed at his words. "I don't want to dampen your mood. But Tamara popped in."

"Just Tamara? I'm surprised her parents didn't come along."

"No, she's a big girl. Each day since you called, we've seen her. She's struggling."

"And?" William asked cautiously.

"Questions galore -- Do we know where you are? What did you say? What do we know? Can she get in touch with you? Yadda, yadda, yadda."

William was relieved, she was behaving as he expected. "Did you stay on script?"

"Of course. She was upset, she doesn't know what's going on or where you are. Worried about the boys. She wants to talk to you, clear up this misunderstanding. Her lovely, little life has imploded and she's trying to make sense of everything."

"Has she signed?"

His dad snorted. "Nope. She wants to talk to you."

"Good luck with that. Did you?"

"Tell her no way? Yep. Told her if she wants to speak to you or the boys any time soon, she needs to have signed the forms and handed them in. She didn't like that."

"No?" William was willing to bet the denial of information, not knowing or having control of events would be causing her stress.

"Nope. She thinks if she speaks to you, she can explain."

"Not while there's a hole in my arse."

The two men chuckled.

"I told her that, perhaps a touch less colourfully."

William laughed. "She's trying to make sense of it. Trying to regain control and hasn't yet realised. It's hard to be in control, if you can't communicate. She'll learn."

"We got into her ribs and told her to sign. I don't think she's gone home to do that. But I think she's understood her first thoughts of reasoning with you aren't going to work."

"She's not thinking, Dad. She's just found out I know. But she doesn't know what I know or how and she's got no way of getting to me. She's reacting. She's confused, lacking information, and lacking access. I hope she does the right thing before time runs out."

"Yeah, me too, Bill. Me too."

"You'll be seeing her again, and soon, I reckon, Dad. She'll know we're in touch. Expect tantrums, emotional blackmail, threats."

"Don't worry Billy-boy, we can't tell her what we don't know. You guys have fun and stay in touch."

"Will do."

------------------------------------------------------------

A week later, William phoned his parents again.

"Hey Dad. How's life in the fast lane?"

"You guys took the sunshine with you. It's rained about every damn day for the last week."

"Snap."

"Really? Over there? I thought it was the Sunshine State?"

"Allegedly. It hammers down for a short while. Properly dumping down water, like you're in a shower. Ten minutes, the sun's back out and the only thing wet is your pants."

William heard his dad laugh.

"Took the boys out to Kennedy Space Centre today."

"They like it? I'm guessing it was good."

"It was. We all had a real blast. Different energy from the parks, but the kids loved the rockets. Like really loved it."

"I bet. Speaking of fire and thunder, we're seeing more of Tamara than we've ever done."

"Poor girl, it's getting to be a habit. If she could keep her clothes on, we'd still be married."

Will could hear his father's laughter down the line. "Not seeing more of her in that way, numbskull. Your mother would kill me if she thought that was happening."

"How's Tamara coping?"

"Today? She was spitting feathers. I think we've had almost the full gamut of emotions. Tears, ranting, threats, begging ... She's got quite a versatile approach to problem solving."

"Sorry Dad. I hope you offered her a cup of tea."

"And some digestives to dunk." Both men chuckled at that. "'S OK. We're cool cats. Told her we couldn't pass messages on. That you and the boys had been in touch and were OK. Told her we didn't know where you are. But she was uppity."

"Not surprised. I knew anger would take over. She say much?"

"Not really. A couple of threats, she's seen a lawyer, you can't do this. She has rights. A coerced signature wouldn't stand up in court. That kind of crap. I just asked her if she'd signed yet."

"Thank you. Fingers crossed she listened. Look, let her know that if she signs, we'll be in touch. Just give her that prompt."

"No worries. We're in the trenches with you."

"She'll buckle. Just be patient and stay safe, Dad. Give my love to Mum."

Three days before they were due to come home, William got confirmation from his dad that Tamara had signed the divorce paperwork. He had the signed forms in his hands and they'd be with the solicitor in the morning.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Just after lunch, using the SIM card he'd picked up in a small tourist shop in Disney Village, he called his former in-laws.

"Hey Douglas." He began when his father-in-law answered the phone.

"Jesus, It's Will. Honey, it's William," he heard.

He waited a moment. He could hear scuffling and movement. After a brief pause, his wife's voice came on the phone.

"Will? Is that you? Where the hell are you?"

"Take a breath, Tamara. Thank you for choosing the amicable option. I'm going to put the boys on now. Catch up with them, we can talk afterwards."

He passed the phone over to his eldest who promptly stood up and walked away with the phone pressed to his ear. As the holiday had gone on, the questions had started coming from the boys. Will had been open and honest. This was the first time that they'd spoken with their mother since they'd left England William could hear snippets of the conversation, so he picked up his beer and walked outside to sit on the veranda where he was out of earshot. They deserved their privacy.

It was two cold beers later when Greg walked out onto the veranda proffering the phone.

"Mum wants to talk to you, Dad."

William took the phone with a quiet "Thank you," as Greg walked back into his room.

"Hey," he said. He knew she was still on the phone.

"Thank you, Will. It was good to speak to them, hear their voices."

"I told the boys what was going on and why."

"I know. They grilled me and made it clear they weren't happy."

William shrugged at her words, he didn't have much sympathy.

"You couldn't have waited until we spoke before telling them?"

"Nope." His tone was flat. "I'm not going to bullshit them."

"We don't have to divorce, Will. Breaking up our family is going to be hard on all of us."

"Should've kept your damn legs together then."

There was silence from his wife. He waited a moment before he spoke again.

"Thank you for choosing the amicable option. I was worried you wouldn't."

"I didn't want to sign the form, but you didn't leave me any choice."

"Nope. That was the idea. An amicable divorce is the best pick for all our futures, I didn't want you to take the other path. So, I set up a scenario that would encourage that outcome."

"It worked. I've signed the papers. But Will, we can still cancel it. Can we talk?"

"Not right now. We'll be back when you're in Germany..."

"I'm not going to go, I miss you guys. I want to see you, all of you." she said quickly.

"Don't cancel it, Tamara. I'm planning on coming home after you've flown out. That'll give me a bit of time to get the boys used to the new normal before you return. You can speak to them each day."

"Promise?" She asked softly, he could hear the pain and uncertainty in her words.

"Yep. Get on with your life. Regardless, you need to speak with Bastien and give him the heads up."

At the mention of her lover's name, she gave an involuntary gasp.

William continued as if he hadn't heard anything. "As soon you're back, give me a call and we'll work out you spending time with the boys before school starts. There's a week or so left of their holiday. I'll give you a couple of days of it."

"Going to be hard to compete with Disney World." There was a bitterness in her tone.

"Yeah, sucks to be you. While you're away, think long and hard about this. I'm only going to talk to you about this mess once. Out of respect for our marriage, I'll sit down with you. Once. One time only, not each and every time we meet."

"Thank you. I know it doesn't feel like it right now Will, but we can come back from this stronger."

He laughed. "That ain't an outcome. But I'll give you the time to say what you want to say."

Chapter Three

"Peace in our time"

True to his word, William didn't speak to Tamara until after she came back from her next trip to Germany. He was happy to let the boys to speak to her, but he had no desire to. Once she was back, they met in a quiet coffee shop. He arrived a few minutes before she did. Both were early. He placed their order; they'd been married long enough for him to know what she liked.

He watched as she walked through the door and looked around for him. She looked like the last few weeks had been tough. Still, she'd used makeup and picked her outfit carefully, she looked good. She was an attractive woman and knew how to use her looks to best effect. He stood as she approached the table he'd chosen and waited for her to sit down.

"I've ordered you a coffee. Latte decaf with a salted caramel shot."

She nodded.

"Thank you."

There was a pause as they both looked at each other.

"William, I am sorry. I never meant to hurt you. I never meant for it to happen or for you to find out, but I especially didn't want to hurt you."

Her words came out in a rush. He could see the tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. He nodded.

"I get that. I believe you, but you did all the same."

"We don't have to divorce. I'd like this conversation to be the start of us walking back from our marriage ending." There was a quiet defiance in her tone.

He shook his head. "Nope. Now that I know what our marriage is, I'm not happy staying in it."

"Will, we've been married a long time, ending it seems the poor choice. A lot of hurt and pain and for what? What would either of us gain? This has been going for a while, years in fact and you've not suffered or lost anything because of it."

William shrugged his shoulders. "You're probably right. If I hadn't become aware of it, you could have gotten away with it for even longer. I'm not divorcing you because I don't love you, or because I'm not getting enough sex or love from you."

"Then why? Really, why? Isn't it a silly decision?"

He shook his head. "I'm divorcing you because I know, and I can't stay married to you now I know. I tried and I'm not made that way."

"I wish you'd spoken to me before you made your decision."

"I bet. Sadly, I can say the same, Tamara. You started us down this road."

Tamara leant forward and grabbed William's arm, squeezing it. "He's not a threat to our marriage. He never was. I wasn't ... I wasn't planning leaving you for him. It's not that kind of thing."

William shook her hand off his arm. "You say that, you're asking me to what ... trust you? What happens when his wife passes? What if you change your mind? You've diversified your risk nicely, but my eggs are all in one basket. And that basket has a big fucking hole in it. There's no insurance to mitigate that risk, is there?"

She didn't answer, so he continued.

"Where's my win in all of this? Is my best outcome to just remain married to you?"

She shook her head at his words. "Hardly just, Will. We had something special. I want to remain married. I love you."

William glanced at the waitress as she brought over their drinks and stayed silent while she put them down onto the table. He then leaned in and spoke softly.

"That dirty Fokker was the end of our marriage. You might be happy being married and playing hansy with him, but I wasn't. I don't care if you weren't planning on leaving me, your relationship with him fucked our family up. End of."

"Because you're choosing it to be, William."

"Yep." He nodded slowly as he spoke. "My choice. I own that."

There was silence between them for a few moments. It wasn't the silence they used to share, the companionable silence of two people familiar and at ease with the other. This was more an awkward silence. A silence both were aware of.

"When do you want to see the boys?"

Tamara jerked at his question. "Um."

"Tammy, you chose the amicable option. The boys live with me, but visitation is for us to agree and I'm not going to be a dick about it."

She reached out for his arm, again. "Then let me come back home. That's what I want. One hundred percent visitation."

He pulled his arm clear of her grasp. "No," he said firmly. "You don't live there anymore. I'm happy to let you to come over and collect the boys. I'm happy to drop them off wherever you end up. But we're done."

She shook her head at his words. "You're being intractable. You didn't lose anything. Not really, not when you think about it."

"You're a clever woman, Tamara. But that's one of the dumbest things I've heard you say."

"It's not - you couldn't have had sex with me. I was in Germany. I needed to go for work. I was away from home. Even if I hadn't been seeing Bastien, you wouldn't have had anything more from me. How did you miss out?" The movement of her hands punctuated her words.

William paused for a moment, trying to think about how he was going to get his ex-wife to understand. It was saddening to him that his wife, that the woman he loved and the mother of his children could be so blind to the rift she had caused in their relationship.

"Tamara, we're in two different places, which makes this conversation difficult. I'll try and help you understand where I am at."

She sat back in her chair at his words and crossed her arms. He could see the defiant look on her face.

"I found out about your cheating in February. I've had all the time I wanted to deal with this. First to think, then to act -- that's what the German's say, isn't it?"

"How did you find out?" She asked. It was a question he'd anticipated and he shut it down immediately.

"It isn't important how I discovered it. Once I satisfied myself it was true, I did one thing. One key thing. I started to research the topic."

He sat back and folded his arms as he continued.

"Ten years of being an investigative journalist before you persuaded me to pick a safer, more reliable job. Fifteen years as a medical researcher. I know how to research."

"I researched the shit out of it. The whole topic. Infidelity in all its ugly, nasty guises. I hit the internet. I studied the history. I got on the blower and spoke to the cheaters, the seducers, the victims. I spoke with counsellors, lawyers, and other journalists. Got myself an education."

"You know how good I am at this shit. I learnt why, how, and the many ways people have responded to circumstances similar to mine."

She'd been his wife for over twenty years. She knew his capabilities; knew how he handled problems.

"What did you learn?" There was curiosity in her tone.

"I had a couple of insights. Researching the topic helped me to deal with the pain of your betrayal. Gave me perspective, that my experience wasn't unique. I wasn't special, neither are you. The world kept turning and having the kids to look after, my job and the research into infidelity helped keep me busy and deal with the pain."

"Second learning? I had a decision to make. Could I live with what you had done?"

"But you never said anything to me ..."

He cut across her whine. "Why would I? It was my decision. I tried, for a month or two, I tried to stay married and see how it felt. If I could stay within a marriage like this. Some people can live with infidelity. According to the stats, over half the people, maybe as many as seventy percent are able to keep the marriage together."

He looked directly into her eyes as he continued. He wanted to make sure she understood how deeply she had hurt him. "But that's not me. As soon as I decided I wasn't going to share, I immediately felt more 'me' again. I felt like myself, back in control. That feeling told me as much as the angst I struggled with while trying it out."

"My third learning was I needed to reinvent myself. Because we'd been married for so long, a lot of me, my wants, my needs, my desires had been subsumed in yours or the children's. A lot of what makes me who I am, needed to be rediscovered."

"That's ridiculous. I've not said what you can and can't do." Tamara protested.

"You have and I let you. That's part of what being married is all about. Part of being in a relationship is compromise, working out what's best for me, for each other, as well as the family. Now I can rediscover who I am and what I want to be. I'm less constrained and that is damn liberating I can tell you."

"You could've done that any time we were together."

William shook his head. "Nope. You, the kids, my family, society all put in rules and expectations about who I am as a man and a father. Now I'm single again, I can re-explore who and what I want to be. It's liberating, I can tell you!"

"So, what new things are you doing? Who is this new you?" Challenged Tamara.

"I exercise daily. I eat healthily. I cook healthily. I meditate."

"You were doing all of those things ..." She tailed off.

"Yep. All of them, since about um, March or April."

"Ahh."

"That was part of me finding myself. Part of me working out who I am, who I want to be."

"You could've done all those things with me. You didn't need to break us up to do them."

"No, you're right, I didn't. Now I do me. I get up early, despite you moaning that my waking earlier disturbs your mornings. I eat healthily, despite you complaining my food isn't fun to eat."

"You were so loud in the mornings."

"And now it isn't a problem, for you or for me. I stopped caring what you thought, just started to change my habits to reflect who I want to be. I practiced making decisions and doing things without you. And I found I could do it. And guess what? It wasn't the end of the world. It was actually quite enjoyable."

William picked up his coffee and took a cautious sip of the hot drink. It was hot, right on that borderline of what could be drunk.

"Is it making you happier, William? Are a few trivial things like this worth torpedoing our marriage?"

"Don't confuse the two things. I didn't torpedo our marriage to do this. The two things are independent of each other. I ended our marriage because I couldn't remain married to you. I don't want to be the man who remains married to a cheating wife. I'm a man who's got a touch more self-esteem than that. But because I am me, I did try, just to make sure."

"And now you're remaking yourself."

"Yep. I am. These changes aren't about salvaging our marriage, they are about me discovering life after our marriage. I've started journaling as well. Thinking each day about how I'm feeling and writing it down. Giving my feelings space and consideration."

He looked up at her from his drink.

"It works Tam, it really does work. It's been an absolute fucking tonic, giving myself the time and respect I deserve, rather than mindlessly plodding through the day."

"That's it?"

"I'm living my best life."

"Living your best life." mocked Tamara.

William nodded, almost absentmindedly. "Yep. Another one of the key takeaways research showed me. Don't stress about your partner, or ex-partner. Don't dwell on them and what they're doing. Get on and live your own life. Use it as a springboard to be the person you want to be. Drive to the future rather than dwell in the past."

"Eating better, exercising, meditating, and journaling. You're turning into a cliché, William. Hell, every man over the age of forty does this. You should've done it years ago."

"Living their best life. Yeah, I guess a lot of us try. That was another lesson I learnt. Don't give you space in my head. Don't lose time wondering why you did it, what you did, how you did it or anything like that. Don't be a fucking victim. That's what I learnt. Focus on what's in my control, live my best life, one hundred fucking percent."

He could see Tamara wasn't impressed by what he'd shared. He could see his explanation hadn't satisfied her. He sat speculating, as he watched her searching for the right words to say, on what was coming next.

"I think ..." she started. William cut her off.

"Let's see if I can finish this for you." He continued in a high-pitched voice. "William, I think if I explain, you'll see how it happened."

"No. That wasn't what I was going to say." Tamara retorted. "I was going to say the situation is more complex than you perhaps understand. Perhaps if you understood it, you'd see why this isn't a threat to our marriage. Why you don't have to blow up our family over it."

William gave a chuckle as he picked up his drink and took another small sip of the still scalding liquid. He had nailed it cold.

"It's a common fallacy. We think if the other person, the person we're disagreeing with, understood the world as we do, they'd make the same choices. They'd agree with us. Instead of listening to why they feel like they feel, we bombard them with our side so they see the world the same way as us."

He paused for a couple of seconds before continuing. "Thus, completely missing the point that two people can understand an issue as completely as the other and totally disagree on it. Legitimately seeing it from the opposite side and still disagreeing. But hey, what do I know? Go ahead, Tamara. Please tell me what you feel is going to change my mind."

He smiled as she began, it was like she hadn't heard a word he'd said. He felt a whiff of nostalgia for the years of happy married life they'd enjoyed.

"I know you think I'm having a sordid little affair that threatens our marriage. If we had talked about this before you decided that divorce was the only solution, we could've sorted this out sooner."

"Tamara, you think what you're saying is going to change my mind. It won't."

"My relationship with Bastien isn't going to end our relationship."

"Correct, it already has."

"William, please!" William did have to grin at the exasperation in her voice. He mimed a zip being closed across his mouth. A well-practised gesture.

"Thank you. I'm not going to leave you and the boys for him. It was never that kind of relationship. It hasn't been going on for the whole time I've been travelling to Germany. It isn't just about sex, sex, sex."

William watched as she took a sip of her drink and gathered her thoughts.

"I was bored. Not with you, not with our marriage. I'd travel over there and sit in a hotel room for a week doing nothing. Eating by myself, reading a book if I had one, and speaking to you guys on the phone once a day. Bored. I put up with it for nearly a year before I decided to get out more."

"I remember, Tamara. I remember giving you suggestions of different things you could do. Different hobbies, ways to use that time to your benefit instead of doing nothing."

"You did and I listened. I started eating out, somewhere different each night, just to get a change of scene. A different energy as well as a different menu. It worked. I had to get over the anxiety of a single woman eating alone, but it was no big deal."

William nodded. He knew for the sake of their future relationship she needed to tell him this. She'd missed the point about the value of the explanation, but he could be patient. Even if she didn't realise it, this was the only time he was ever going to indulge her. For the sake of their years together he could be patient. After this, it was all over.

"One evening, I was sitting by myself in a busy restaurant. The waiter asked if I'd let someone else sit with me. I said yes and it was Bastien."

"Herman."

"Herman? Oh, Herman the German, for God's sake William, don't be so juvenile."

"Juvenile would be calling him Bastard instead of Bastien. Just be grateful I chose Herman."

"Bastien was eating by himself and so we got talking. It was a struggle; my German wasn't anything special but we got by. He was eating out to take a break from his wife."

"Why?" William cut in. "Is that bitch cheating on him as well?"

He watched her take a deep breath before she spoke. "He's a carer for his wife. She has Multiple Sclerosis and needs almost full-time care. He'd occasionally get the opportunity to go out for a meal or something like that. Give himself a break, a chance to feel human."

"So many things I could say, so many things." William murmured in the space between them.

Tamara scowled at his words and continued. "We began to meet up occasionally. When I was in Germany. Just once in the week for a meal together. A chance for him to offload, some respite from his responsibilities. And a chance for me to spend an evening out of the hotel. To meet someone different and see the real Germany, not just the inside of a hotel."

"You never mentioned those dates."

Tamara looked at him. He could see his words caught her by surprise, the challenge.

"No, I guess I didn't. Our meals out continued for a while, one night he mentioned going to the theatre. I think it was the theatre, or the opera. Something cultural. Something he couldn't do with his wife and would give me a different experience."

"Funny, I don't remember any conversation about those evenings either."

"I didn't say anything."

"I know. I'm kind of curious why not. Kind of curious in a it-doesn't-matter-a-fuck kind of way."

Tamara looked at him, puzzled.

"It doesn't matter, does it? I mean, you didn't care to tell me. I guess that was when you hammered the nail in the coffin of our marriage. You were going out with a man, and purposefully not telling me about it."

"What did it matter? Why tell you and risk upsetting you? You weren't there. You were at home, with the boys in England. I was away; I was in Germany by myself."

"You chose to do that job. Being there was your choice. When they offered you the opportunity to travel, I warned you about the risk of working away, about men taking advantage. You wanted the job and you knew my concern over the risks to our marriage."

"Nothing had happened by this stage."

"Yes, it had." William cut across her entreaty. "The first time you did it, the first time you met with him and decided I didn't need to know, you began keeping secrets. Whether you were playing 'hide the bratwurst' with that asshole by that stage or not is irrelevant. The damage had been done to our marriage."

"I disagree. You wouldn't have gotten the time with me. I was there alone; his friendliness was appreciated. It was a help. I got to do things, go places I'd never have gone."

"It's called an emotional affair, Tamara. I think you know and knew at the time, that it was wrong. That you were crossing a line."

She was shaking her head. "We were friends."

William shrugged, he took a drink of his coffee, savouring the bitter taste.

"I knew about his wife; he knew about you. I wish you could meet him."

"Me too, Tamara. I've not met him and yet I want to punch him full in the face with every bit of strength I can muster. I promise you." William said, holding up a finger. "I promise, when I see him, if I see him. The very first thing I'll do, is smack him as hard as I can right in the middle of his stupid, fucking German face."

He saw Tamara blanch at his words.

"How can I make you understand, Will? What I have with him isn't a threat to our marriage. I'm not going to leave you for him. What I have with him is outside and separate from us, from our family. The two things can co-exist."

"Again Tamara, you keep saying that and I keep telling you, I'm past caring. I understand your words, I just disagree. When I first found out you were shnitzelling his wiener so to speak, it was a concern. But I got past that quite quickly. Now what your saying is word soup."

He could see the confusion on her face. "I don't get it; how did he stop being a threat?"

"He's only a threat if I care, if I wanted our marriage to stay alive. As soon as I decided I was calling time on our marriage, he became irrelevant. Like your opinion."

"My relationship with him didn't ruin his marriage, why should it ruin ours? I'm not asking you to give me permission to continue it, I'll end it. But if his wife can live with it, can see a benefit to her from it, why are you so closed off?"

"Did she know up front? Was she asked about it?"

Tamara nodded her head. "Yes, she had to think about it, so we held off doing anything. Bastien insisted we go no further until she'd agreed."

"So how come she got the courtesy of knowing up front and I didn't?"

He could see Tamara trying to think through different responses she could give. Quickly playing out how the conversations would go and realising there wasn't a good outcome.

He nodded. "Yup, that's about it. You didn't tell me because you know damn well, I wouldn't have signed up for it. You wanted it, didn't see any good reason to tell me and so you didn't. Herman may have had the good fucking manners to make sure his wife approved but the fetid turd never made sure I was informed."

There was a pause, his words hung in the air between them. He took a righteous swig of his coffee before continuing in a calmer, quieter tone.

"You can't take the boys out of the country. At least, not until Greg is eighteen. That's written into the divorce terms. I don't want them having to meet that bottom feeder or his wife. But, I suppose, one day when one of the boys gets married, I might get the chance to break his fucking nose."

"We didn't have sex, didn't do anything physical for a long time."

"Irrelevant, Tam. I give zero fucks. I keep telling you that. I don't want to be in a relationship where I am sharing, whether it's when I'm around or not. That's not what I signed for. Out of love, respect for our family, I tried to see, and it felt fucking wrong. Deeply wrong, it's not who I am as a man. So, thanks, but fuck no."

"It doesn't have to be this way, Will. A lot of marriages survive infidelity."

"Yep. Like I said, when I first found out, I didn't say anything, didn't do anything but understand the topic and see if I could live with it. I wanted to give you a chance. To understand whether the way I was feeling was sufficient to break our family apart. Whether I could live with you for the four or five years until Greg becomes an adult. Perhaps make it longer. I discovered I couldn't."

"You haven't tried, Will. Not really. You can try again and a bit harder. We can see a counsellor, get some help. You can meet Basti and his wife, understand why my relationship with him isn't a problem for us."

William laughed. He may have changed as a result of this situation, but she really hadn't.

"I'm not making a joke. If you insist I give him up, I am happy to." She emphasised. "We can get counselling or help with our marriage and build it back stronger."

"Three reasons Tammy, why I'm calling bullshit on those options. First up, finding out you've been having "Eine Kleine bang bang" with another man has destroyed my trust in our marriage. I don't know what is truth and what is lie, where the omissions started and ended. When you speak now, I just don't believe you. The trust is gone and that's fucked our marriage."

He could see there was a dawning comprehension that the road back was beginning to look distant. His words were beginning to sink in.

"Two, the betrayal. We were a team. A pair, a unit. Even inside our family unit, you and I were a unit. You changed that dynamic. No asking my permission, no consideration for me. You changed the rules without telling me. My opinion didn't matter. I was irrelevant, I ceased to matter. I was in a relationship you changed and I didn't know, let alone get consulted on. Strike fucking two. My opinion counts."

"Last part? The final fucking nail in the coffin." William's voice was urgent and low. He didn't want any of this conversation heard by others.

"You hurt me. I cried, Tamara. I cried. You broke my fucking heart. It took time, journaling, long walks, and a lot of thinking to get over the pain. It still fucking hurts. And you caused that pain. I don't want to be around you - you hurt people. You tell them you love them, then you hurt them."

He stopped, taking a ragged breath, pulling himself back under control. He could see the tears in her eyes.

"There's another. Think of it as the one for luck. The best you can offer me going forward is a shit version of what we had. A version where I stay with a wife that's broke her vows and cheated on me. Not a little bit of cheating but a prolonged sexual relationship with another man. No option gets me back to what I had, the best I get is that shit version. I think I can do better than that going forward."

He tapped his fingers on the table impatiently.

"I found out in February, Tamara. By the end of April, I'd done all the thinking, the researching, the trials I needed to. I knew then we were toast. Our marriage wasn't so much on the fritz, it was fucked. No way back."

"The end of April? That was months ago!"

He nodded.

"Once the decision was made, the question became how to finish things off? How to end it?"

"You took the kids to Disney World. That was somewhere we were supposed to go as a family, together." Her voice was quiet, but he could hear the accusation and despair in her tone.

"Yep. I needed a damn good holiday and I knew being there would give me time to get done what was needed and would hurt you when you found out."

She nodded.

"It did. I didn't know what was going on. I couldn't communicate with you. No-one knew where you were, or if they did, they wouldn't say. I just had the divorce papers and a house that I couldn't get into. It hurt."

"That was the idea. Give you a short, sharp dose of what I went through. Not quite the same level of confusion, self-doubt, pain, or betrayal. But a bloody nose all the same."

"It worked."

"Nope, not properly, not fully. But there's more. Since May I've had a friend with benefits, someone who has put a smile on my face and a bulge in my groin. That should give you a clear message our marriage isn't going to sticky plastered back together."

He could see the shock and horror on her face.

"You've been cheating on me?"

He nodded. "Fuck aye, yes! Stings, doesn't it? Once I made the decision, we were toast, I spent time thinking about my future. How I wanted my life to be. Who I want in it. Some cheated-on partners do the honourable thing and wait until the ink is dry on their divorce papers before they find another partner. I couldn't see any reason to wait. Our marriage was toast, so why should I wait?"

He snorted at the rhetorical question he'd posed. "I didn't. I got on Tinder and in less than two weeks found a woman I could anschluss with. Since then, you go to Germany for sex, I go to Gemma."

He could see her face flush red. He nodded with satisfaction. She thought she could turn the situation around. That she knew him well enough that she could either manage what he knew or manage his response. She was finally realising he was more than a couple of steps ahead of her. Her telling him about why her lover wasn't a threat was irrelevant and she realised that now. He'd played her just as she'd played him.

"Tamara, I didn't reveal my hand. I didn't let you know what was going on until such a point where I was happy, I'd done everything I wanted to do, to get the outcome I wanted."

He swirled the last of his drink in the cup and drank it down.

"You chose an amicable divorce. I think that was the best option. Have a think about what visitation works best for you. I'm not going to be a dick about it. You can't take them out of the country, tough shit. But all the rest, I'll be as good an ex-husband as I can be. I want to see you happy. But it won't be with me. You fucked that version of the future away."

He stood up and began to walk away before turning back to face her.

"Respect the fact that I could've been a real bastard, Tam. I had every damn right in the world. But I haven't been, I've been damn decent. Please treat me the same. You fucked up our marriage, now just let me walk away. Let's part nicely and maybe one day we can be friends."

He nodded as he looked at her, he could see the message landed. It was time to leave; his future was waiting and he was looking forward to it.

'They think it's all over, it is now.'