This is a farce, a funny little tale.
Success, in this case it means big money, for me came late in life. I got up that morning and wished my wife had lived to see it; but she didn't. We got to have children and some new grandchildren, and she loved them all. She was the best woman I could ever have found. Now she was gone.
We had been laughing at birds making a dog chase them, egging the dog on. It was funny watching the birds come down near the dog at the ocean's edge and then take off as this stupid dog ran at them as fast as he could. I remember she was laughing and she looked at me with a glint in her eye, that perfect smile and that perfect love and I was looking back feeling that this was perfect, and then the light went out in her eyes and she fell forward.
It had been three years since she had the brain embolism. It hit her and she was gone and I was alone. She never suffered, it was that fast.
I wrote a book about her and because she was perfection; it sold. Then I wrote another, I did not think it was as good, it wasn't about her, but it sold too. Pretty soon I had written half a dozen books, had movie deals with points, and I was rich. I was a cottage industry gone industrial.
Why did I write that first book, guilt; I was a fraud.
I cheated, and she never found out, but I lived with it. Every time I looked at her I knew I was a fraud. No matter what I did, I hated myself. I pretended to be the perfect husband but in truth and fact, I was scum. That was my burden, and I lived it every day.
When my cheating was over, I still lived it. At birthdays and Christmas, at Easter, on Our Anniversary, I felt like I was shit but I put on a happy face. It was my burden, not hers.
At times I wished she had cheated too, so she would not have been so perfect. Hell I hope she did and kept it from me, or even left me a letter saying she knew all about it and with whom, and spent decades putting horns on my head. I fucking deserved it.
It happened within the first decade of our marriage. It lasted longer than it should, but not as long as I wanted. Up until then I was a good husband.
I did not hit the bars, gave her all my money every week, paid all the bills and even during that time I was with "her", I did the same. "She" never caused my perfect wife to lack for anything. After it was over, I worked even harder. My perfect wife wanted for nothing except a piece of cheating garbage for a husband and then I gave her that too.
I tried to make up for it by always being there, always supporting her. What ever she wanted, I wanted it too. We took trips, long vacations, visited the family all over the country. If she saw it and liked it, I bought it. Flowers were a standard, they always had been and I kept that up too.
I did whatever I could to keep her happy, I was the "perfect husband" but actually I was a fucking asshole piece of shit.
We broke it off eventually, the "other woman and I", and I would like to say I never looked back, but I did and that was even worse. When I looked back it was not with remorse, it was with longing.
What the fuck did I do and why did I do it? I'm a fucking asshole that is why I did it, hell I had the fucking perfect wife and the perfect family. The kids were great, we were a real family. But I have hidden it all these years, my kids don't even know.
Now I am rich and old, what the fuck do I care?
So we are all out to an early dinner. I did not want to go but my PA made the reservations and I had to follow along. "All" is the staff. My kids are grown and married and have kids, so they are rarely part of my social life. I have a hot PA, Debbie, but she is not on my action list, too damn young. No one is on my action list. It is a very short list. There are others with us, ten in all. It takes a lot of people to write a good book and I even publish it myself now.
So we are all there, waiting for drink orders and guess who walks in, you got it; Nancy that fucking slut that took my perfection from me and gave me pain. She was tall, thin, blond, very small tits I remember so well, but she looked tired and older.
She had been a young woman, and I was a mature man, fifteen years her senior. Now she was a mature woman and I was an old man, ok not that old but old. Hell she was not even that mature, lets just say old enough.
She was in a party of four. Nancy had some Nordic god who appeared to hover around her. It was easy to see why. There was a young woman who was a similar version of Nancy and she had her own Nordic god, but younger. The young woman was a younger version of Nancy. Now I remember, she had a daughter, I remember the pictures, and this must be her.
"Ok, let's forget the slut and get on with our party." I think to myself.
We were wrapping up a hard project. Got the final section of the book done and continuity was finally right. Can't have dead people show up in later chapters.
"She would never recognize me anyway" I think to myself.
The next thing I feel is a body standing over me. I look up and there she is looking down on me. She did not dress like I remember her. Now her hair was in a bun and she even had glasses. But even as old as she was, she was a damn fine looking woman, at least I thought so.
The conversation started out with her saying,
"Hey asshole, remember me, thanks for fucking up my marriage and my life!"
It went down hill from there. It was not so much a conversation as a one sided dialog. It ended with her walking back to her table and sitting next to her Nordic god.
Ok, I was so fucking cool; I just ignored her and went back to talking to my group. How is that for cool?
Damn it just keeps getting better and better especially as she walks back to 'talk," again.
She is five foot seven and in heels she does not even come close to her "date", the man god, Thor. I am five foot nine and she is taller than me in heels, so I don't even bother to stand, I just look up.
"Don't you have anything to say you dickless coward?" she demanded.
"Ok, how did I cause you to lose your marriage?" I asked.
She responded with "My husband divorced me for infidelity, you know, adultery."
I retorted with, "I was never served as a co-respondent in your divorce based on adultery."
You can see it in her eyes, it was an oups moment.
"Well it wasn't with you, it was with another man. It was you who started me on this, you pig. It wasn't you who I was caught with, but it sure as hell was your fault."
And then she strode away. She did look good with those long legs, or what I could see of them under that damn long thing she was wearing.
I had the feeling that I had won one.
Well back at her table there was hushed talking and some dirty looks in my direction. I went on having a drink and ordering some hor dourves for ten. Our table talk was now just a little strained.
The perfect husband was now busted by nine other people who knew something no one else knew. Writing about it in fiction is one thing but having it true; well that is something else. The truth was my perfect wife, the fiction was to be my dishonor, and until this moment that was all it was, fiction. But I was so fucking cool, I just flowed with it.
"Listen Franklin, you were the cause of it all. I had a nice marriage and you are the cause of me looking for more." She was back. The bitch could have been a Ninja assassin; she was so damn quite as she came up on me.
"Let me understand this Nancy. We broke up, he did not know, and then you went out and got caught doing it again. I know he was your second husband and you knew he was cheating on you but you could not prove it. But you were not a babe in the woods, hell you did things I could not pay a whore to do. So don't blame me for your problem." I told her.
She walked back to her table, angry, very angry. I watched her walk away. She did have a nice ass too, for an old woman. She was still thin with small hips. As she took those long anger strides even that long skirt went tight around her ass. Damn she was not that old, and still hot.
A few minutes later, in stealth mode, back she came.
"I had to find someone else, you were a lousy lay, your dick was too small and you finished before I even got started." She told me.
I had been waiting for that one. That was a standard woman thing.
"Nancy what the hell is going on? Go back and eat and leave me alone." I told her and turned back to my co-workers. I guess you could call them my posse.
I was going to add something really nasty but I just let it slide.
A couple of minutes later Nancy came back to the table, striding like a Clydesdale, and making about as much noise too. She was angry and wanted the entire place to know that she was on the gallop like a good war horse in battle.
"You said you loved me! You left me!" She said loud enough for everyone to hear, including Thor.
This was not a fun dinner.
"Nancy, you were married, I was married, and it had to stop. I stopped it."
"So did you love me?" She demanded.
She actually stomped her foot and stood there with her hands on her hips, all akimbo. That is a woman's pose for battle; much like two men with their fists up.
Now I was stuck.
"What the hell do I say to her that will get her to leave us alone?
"If I said 'Yes I loved you', would she come back or just leave?
"If I told her that I did not love her and that I spent all that time with her for some pussy, well that was too cruel.
.... There is more of this story ...