The TGI Chronicles: Part 1 - Too Late - Cover

The TGI Chronicles: Part 1 - Too Late

Copyright© 2005 by GaryAPB

Chapter 4

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 4 - This is the first part of a series about the lives of a group of young people who work for TGI (a company based in a small town in England). This part is about the troubles in the marriage of Tim & Beth.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Heterosexual   Cheating   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Slow  

Sunday started better than Saturday had finished. I woke up, determined to be positive. But the day went down hill fast.

I wallowed in self-pity. I tortured myself with thoughts of Ken and Beth. Maybe I should go to Spain and take out my anger on Ken. No, that was Jean's job.

I thought 'do some cooking, Tim, you've got to eat properly, and learning to cook would be a start.' I burnt my fingers getting a casserole out of the oven. It tasted bloody awful.

It took me ages trying to get the washing machine to work on half-load. In the end I gave up and did three shirts as if they were a full load.

I went to the supermarket. I gave up on the cooking idea, only for a week or two of course, until I get adjusted, then I'll get back to it. So I bought loads of microwave meals for one. Then I felt bitterly ashamed and embarrassed as I waited to check-out. I felt everyone in the shop need only look at my trolley to know that I was a cuckolded husband.

The only bright spot was that Phil phoned in the evening. Just checking on how I was. But he was kind, and he let me talk about Beth and how much I missed her. Even in my misery, and even when talking to my best friend, with whom I should be honest, I made sure that he got no real idea of the true story of Beth and Ken from me. I didn't like that, but let her feel the shame of telling them.

I went to bed thinking that maybe that was my revenge. Making her have to be honest with everyone on what a bitch she really was. She wouldn't like that.

But she got her own back in the small hours, haunting me with images of her and that bastard.


Monday wasn't bad.

I was greeted at work by Dave. As soon as he came in he put his head round my door, just to make sure I was OK (or maybe checking that I was there at all).

I began to realise that I probably was way off key with everybody on Friday, but no one said anything. I guessed that Dave had said enough for everyone to at least respect my privacy. Everyone that is except Stella, Perry's secretary. She came by my desk with a pained look on her face "I'm so sorry to hear about you and Beth. We've worked together for so long, Tim, I remember you joining as a junior analyst all those years ago. So, if there's anything I can do, If you'd like to chat it over, you know, get a woman's point of view."

I think that just confirmed what I already thought of Stella. I don't like her, and I don't think I ever have. She was always patronising, and she's had real difficulty with me as I rose through the ranks, and she had to start treating me as the senior manager I was. She was also one of the hubs of the gossip mill. Well, at least I know where I stand, everyone in the building will know within an hour of Stella knowing.

I went and saw Perry about Greg Dickens of ITP. He didn't know what it was about either. Maybe Neil had mentioned my name. Apparently Neil and this Greg Dickens had met on Thursday last week. I left it with him to sort out.

I wasn't in a rush to go home that evening, there was nothing to go home for. So it was about quarter to seven when I got into my car in the car park. Just then my phone rang, I could see from the little screen that it was Beth's parents home number calling. My heart missed a beat. What was she going to say? Did I want to even answer it?

I hit the talk button, "Hello."

"Hello, Tim? This is George here."

"Yes, George?" A wave of relief came over me.

"You might like to know that your wife is here after you threw her out. Now Mary and I don't want to interfere, but I have to say, whatever is going on between you two, no decent man calls his wife all the names under the sun and throws her out in the street late at night. We thought you loved her. Mary and I even became quite fond of you. We were obviously mistaken in our judgement." And then he rang off.

I sat in my car, staring at a brick wall through the windscreen. I was stunned. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know what I should do. I got out of my car and went over the road to the pub. I walked up to the bar and ordered a double whisky. Only when I had taken a healthy gulp did I sigh with a huge release of tension.

And then there was a voice behind me "Does that feel better?"

I looked round, it was Alice. "Oh hi there. I've just had an absolute stunner of a telephone call. I needed a quick reviver."

"I'd heard that it wasn't all moonlight and roses in your life. Sorry about that. Do you want to talk?" she asked.

I looked round. There were no colleagues in sight. "You in here by yourself? Or are you waiting for someone?"

"No, they just left. You came in here in such a storm that I doubt that you even saw them. I was the only one that was brave enough to wait and find out what the problem was." She smiled, and put an empty glass down on the bar.

"Sorry, do you want another one of those, whatever it was?" I remembered my manners.

"Only if you fancy talking. I don't want to pry, but I thought you might like someone to talk to."

I thought about it, but I didn't really know Alice, I liked her and got on well with her, but I didn't feel like opening up to her, or not now, maybe another time. But it did make me think I wouldn't mind talking to Phil. "Well, I'll happily buy you a drink. But I think it better that I just sort out some of these things in my own head."

"Well then, why don't you finish up your drink. Then you can give me a lift up the High Street. It'll make a change from giving me a lift down the road always."

And that's what we did. I dropped her at what is known as the Bank Corner. Apparently she had a flat around there somewhere. I went home to a miserable evening, thinking about Beth and what she is telling everybody. I didn't ring Phil.


Monday night was just as bad as Sunday. I woke several times to the writhing of Beth and Ken in sexual ecstasy.

Tuesday I went into work with a determination that I was going to run my life from now on. I needed to sort out whether my marriage was repairable. I doubted it, but I had come to realise that there were questions to which only Beth could give me the answers. There was a mounting piles of things that I needed to say to her. I now had a deadline of 14th July. By then we had to know whether we were going to be splitting the CD collection or not.

I sat at my desk. I didn't want to phone her. I didn't like getting calls from her, out of the blue. I wasn't sure that making them to her would be any better. I felt that actually talking to her would only emphasise the gulf between us. I was going to have to email her. I know it was cold and impersonal, but that's the way I wanted it. I composed the email,

Beth,
I want to talk to you.
Suggest the Red Lion, tomorrow evening at 21:00.
This is not reconciliation, but it may be a tentative first step, and anyway there are things you need to know.
Please confirm that you can make it.
Tim

I read it and read it again, full of indecision. I had to get the words exactly right: I want to talk to you? I'd like to talk to you? We need to talk? I left it as it was and hit the send button.

I had no idea when she would receive it. She may not even be looking at her private email. But that was an advantage of email, at least I could prove I'd tried.

When I came back from lunch, there was a reply:

Dear Tim,
Thank you. I'll be there.
All my love,
Beth

Who's she trying to kid? All her love! Maybe this week, but she couldn't say that last week!

At the end of the day I went to the pub with Dave. He had an orange juice. I was surprised until he told me he was off to the gym. "You should join, Tim. It would do you good."

"You must be joking."

"Seriously. I know that, on the very odd occasion, when some girl has withdrawn from our relationship prematurely, I..."

"You mean when one dumped you?"

"Well, yes. But I'd rather think of it as a discrepancy in our immediate life goals and development." He said with a smile. "Anyway, a good work out session really does help ease the stress and anger that all gets tied up inside." He inspected me from head to toe, "I should think that a simple, intensive daily work out for about a year should do the trick."

"I don't think it's for me. I've always felt that there is something slightly narcissistic about gyms. I've never been to one in my life." I just couldn't see myself doing it.

"Well you ought to. For a start, it's something to do in the evening, and I bet you haven't got a very full social diary at the moment. Also, if you do end up back on the market, it might help if you had a bod that ain't too repulsive to the opposite sex."

I hated to admit it, but there was something in what he said. I certainly could do with something to do in the evenings, I couldn't always go to the pub. And being a bit fitter wouldn't do any harm. And the experts did seem to think that exercise does help with stress.

"OK. I'll dig out some kit and bring it into the office. Take me with you next time you go."

"Oh, you can't just come along anymore. You have to have a full induction. To check you out and do all the health and safety routine on the machines." He finished his juice.

"Well OK, book me in for one of those."

"Good decision. It's for your own good you know. And anyway, you never know who you'll meet down there. I've been approached twice - both of them were men, but at least I was approached."

"You're losing me, again." I said, smiling.

He looked at his watch, "I must go."

We both left the pub, and I went back to my empty house and had a microwaved supper.

I tried phoning Phil and Denny's home number. There was no answer. I remembered that Tuesday night was Phil's cricket practice night. So I tried watching some television, and actually managed to watch it. In fact I watched it until past midnight, which at least sent me to bed very tired and I managed to sleep.


Wednesday was an average day in the office. The only thing of note was that I had a normal scheduled progress meeting with Perry in the morning. It was all very downbeat and mediocre.

Just before lunch, Rose phoned to say that they have drawn up the agreement on Blindside ready for me to sign. I went round to Symmonds & Burtons in the lunch hour. She told me that Freddy Chapman had phoned her, he wanted to emphasise that there would be no slipping on the timeframe to sign the full lease. I told Rose to tell him that I understood, and that she could tell him that I didn't want them to add any thing else to the apartment from what I'd seen. Rose said that there was no china, glass or cutlery and a hundred and one other things. I said I could bring it all from the house, and not having to spend any more money might cheer Freddy up. "Good tactic" said Rose.

I was pleased that the agreement was signed. It meant I could really give Beth a fixed timetable tonight.

I had chosen nine o'clock to meet Beth because it wouldn't be possible to get into a long conversation, and there was no hint of dining together. But it gave me an awkward period between work and meeting her. I went to the pub.

There were not many from TGI in the pub. But Alice was there. I didn't want to drink solidly for two hours, but I thought that Alice might be my saviour.

"You don't fancy a bite to eat do you?"

"Why Tim Williams! What a choice. Drinking here with this bunch of reprobates or being whisked off to a long and expensive meal in that nice Italian half way up the High Street. Well, OK then."

"No. I was hoping I could borrow you to stiffen my resolve. If you..."

"You call it your resolve do you. Well that's a new one on me. But I guess a girl's got to do what a girl's got to do."

I gave her my best withering look, and didn't take up her flirting opener "If you want to eat Italian, I was more hoping for something like the pizza place at the bottom of the High Street. I'll promise you the real one next time. My treat."

"Well if your paying for that, then let the pizzas be on me."

As we walked along the road she asked "What's all this about then?"

I explained that I was meeting Beth, trying to take things into my hands, into my control, but I was so scared. We talked about a lot of things, not just about my marriage. I don't think I bad mouthed Beth too much, but I gave her a truthful story of what had happened. Before I knew it was quarter to nine when I glanced at my watch. Alice saw my panic and sent me off, assuring me that she really would pay, but hold me to my promise.

As I drove toward the Red Lion I could feel my stomach muscles knotting. I had thought that eating beforehand would be a good idea. Now I wasn't so sure. I was scared. Scared that I would turn to jelly when I saw her. I knew I loved her. How can you be tough, even cruel, to someone you love? But it had to be done. I had to put my cards on the table. After that it was up to her.

I also knew that I, a humble computer project manager for insurance systems, had to out spin a professional PR consultant in what was essentially a battle of words in a game of love on which my whole world depended.

When I got to the Red Lion, Beth was already there. The pub wasn't very full, and she sat at a table in a window alcove with a glass of white wine in front of her. She was dressed well, but looked pale and drawn. She saw me come in, but didn't stand to greet me. I was glad about that, I'm not sure what I would have done. Shake her hand? Kiss her? Anyway, she stayed seated as I approached.

"Hi" I said, somewhat lamely.

"Hi, I was getting worried..."

"Yes Sorry. I'm only a couple of minutes late. How are you?" I asked. I was standing, awkwardly. She remained sitting, looking up at me, awkwardly.

"OK, I guess. In the circumstances... You know..."

I suddenly thought, I had to get myself a drink, and get settled, sitting down, before we really could talk. "I see you've got yourself a glass of wine, do you want anything else?"

"No thank you." she said in a small voice, slightly rasping. Odd, I thought. Then I realised that her throat was dry and rough from too much crying. Good.

"Well, I'll get myself something." I left her and went to the bar.

I returned with a glass of red wine and sat down opposite her. She looked at me expectantly. I was shaking inside, my stomach was a tight knot. I hoped it didn't show, but I expect it did. I was determined to get through this without shouting, without losing my temper, and in total control. After that I was going to go out and run up Everest, it would be an easier challenge!

"Beth, I want to be clear and honest with you. I don't believe we can put this right. I think your betrayal of me, of us, is beyond repair. I am so angry with you for what you did. For changing my life so completely, without any reference to me. I trusted you with my very soul and you chose, of your own freewill to damage me irretrievably. I don't think I could ever trust you again."

There was a sharp in take of breath from Beth. "Oh Tim, I don't know how to show you how sorry I am. I can think of nothing else but the hurt I've caused you. I need to be given a chance to try to put it right. Please Tim. Don't make this the end. Please..."

"No. I want you to be clear of where you start from. I know I still love you, I can't stop loving you in five days. But loving you and staying married to you are two different things. Everyone tells me that I must talk to you. That I must give our marriage a chance. I would love to be able to put it right. I desperately want our old partnership back. I just don't believe it can be done. But, if you want to try, then I'll listen and talk, directly to you or with counsellors or anything you want to try."

"Oh thank you. I'll do whatever it takes."

"Well, there are some conditions." I said firmly.

"Conditions? What? I've said I'll do anything." She looked eager and hopeful.

"I'll come to those in a moment. Before that you should know that there is also a timetable. At the weekend I saw a fabulous flat that I would want to move into if we are at the end. Now I have to make up my mind and sign a lease or lose my deposit and let it go by 14th July. So we've got 'til then to decide whether its worth pressing on with reconciliation or not."

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