Chapter 14

She still wasn’t home, but it was early for her. I rattled around the kitchen, looking to see if there was anything I could make for dinner. There was some chicken in the freezer, so I took it out to defrost and knew I had enough to make a stir-fry. That was relatively easy to make. A bag of frozen vegetables, my own secret sauce and whatever meat I had on hand. I served it over rice and it was usually a hit. I hadn’t made it in a while though. Not since Cecilia and Marty got back together, now that I thought about it. That night was the last time I cooked it.

I wasn’t starting anything until she got home though. If she sketched for the evening, I’d go back to the other house and cook it for lunch tomorrow.

I went downstairs for a drink, deciding that I needed a shot of fortitude if I was going to face Princess Barb tonight. I was drinking it when I heard the front door open. Wonder of wonders, she came home. She was still walking with some difficulty when I came to the bottom of the stairs. “Hi, Honey!” she said with a smile as she hobbled the rest of the way up the stairs.

I followed her, suppressing a smile of triumph. “Hi,” I said simply. “How was your day?”

“Oh my God!” she groaned. “I was in and out between showings and the office. I can barely move! Did you want to order something for dinner or do you have something cooking?” she asked sounding tired.

“I took out some chicken to thaw a little while ago. I can start working on it and make stir-fry,” I told her.

“That sounds delicious,” she admitted. “You need my help?” she asked and I could see in her eyes that she was torn, hoping that I would, but also hoping that I’d tell her to rest.

“It’s pretty simple,” I said. “Why don’t you fill the tub with that bubble-bath you like and relax. You’re moving like you’re still sore from last night and you only got a little sleep.”

She sagged with obvious relief. “I’m pretty beat,” she admitted. “Thanks. I’ll probably go right to bed after dinner.”

So, off she went and I set to work on cooking dinner. I broke the chicken apart and then diced it up while it was still frozen. I set it in the wok pan with a touch of oil and started the heat. Once it was cooking, I started adding spices. I’d discovered an eclectic mix of flavors that blended well in this dish. I didn’t measure, so every time was different. Sometimes it was spicy, sometimes it was downright sweet. I waited until the chicken was mostly done and I started adding the sauce, which was really a mixture of hot sauce, barbecue sauce and a sweet and sour sauce that turned the whole thing into a perfect blend of spicy and sweet. I steamed rice and went to tell her that it was time to eat.

She was fast asleep in the tub and jolted when I touched her shoulder. “Dinner’s ready,” I told her and she nodded, pulling the plug and starting the shower so she could rinse off. I left and started to set the table, dishing hers up and setting it at her place. I poured her a glass of wine to go with it and then dished up my own dinner, shutting of the stove so that things would cool enough to go into the fridge later.

She appeared a few moments later, her hair still gathered up in a pony-tail from her bath. “Thanks,” she said as she sat down. She dropped into the chair rather harder than she’d meant to and squeaked as the impact jolted through her poor battered ass and pussy.

“No problem,” I said quietly. “At least you can take some of it with you tomorrow for lunch.”

She nodded and dug in. She was hungry, but she was also exhausted. I had minimal sympathy. I hadn’t forced her to have sex last night. She’d made that decision on her own and stuck to her guns.

We ate with minimal talking. She was too tired to carry much of a conversation and I couldn’t share any of the details of my day. “Did anyone bring up how you were moving today?” I asked.

She looked up and nodded. “A lot of people,” she admitted, but didn’t elaborate.

“Was he upset that you were coming home after work?” I asked. I wasn’t angry or upset. I asked in the same tone I would have used to ask if she’d gotten her hair done today.

She looked at me worriedly and saw that there was no challenge in my face. I’d merely asked how it had gone for her. “He, uh, wasn’t happy with it,” she said carefully.

I shrugged. “I’m guessing he had some fighting words to say for the way you were walking and the fact that you weren’t meeting him,” I said impassively.

She bit her lip and nodded. “I don’t want to fight tonight, John!” she pleaded with me.

“I’m not upset,” I told her calmly. “I’m just asking about it. I expect he’s going to want to do something to retaliate for me getting in the way. I’m just trying to gauge whether that’s going to happen sooner or later.”

She sighed. “He’s pretty steamed,” she admitted. “He wants me to promise not to do that again.”

“Do what again, exactly?” I asked.

“Sleep with you,” she said quietly.

I sat back, thinking about that for a moment. “I see,” I said with a slight smile. “So he’s forcing you to choose.”

She frowned. “THIS is why I didn’t want to bring it up!” she said, agitated. “I don’t want to fight about it. I’m tired and sore and I’ve had a long day!”

“I’m not fighting, Barb. I’m just talking. Are you going to honor his request and end our sexual relationship? Again, I’m not angry with you. I’m asking questions.”

“What would you do, if I did?” she asked sheepishly.

“I’d take stock of my life and see what I wanted going forward,” I told her honestly. “Truthfully, the only time we’ve had sex in the past six months has been in the last two days, so his request doesn’t seem so outrageous on the surface. On the other hand, our marriage has been hanging by a thread for those six months. Giving him the authority to dictate what happens in our house doesn’t paint a hopeful picture. The last two days have seen us make some progress toward stabilizing things and he wants to put a stop to that.”

She nodded, thinking about what I said. “Yeah. I don’t know. He’s more focused on you than he was before, like it’s him or you.”

I nodded. “I kind of figured that it was going to come to this,” I told her. “He thinks of you as his. He was way more pissed than you’re letting on, wasn’t he?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He wants me to leave you,” she admitted.

I nodded. “He’s finally gotten to the point where he wants you to himself,” I said, not really surprised. “What did you tell him when he asked that?” I was actually amused in a very distant way.

“I told him that was not happening, just like I told you when you asked me to leave him,” she said.

I nodded. “He should be grateful,” I said. “You’ve shown him a lot of loyalty since this all started. I’m not being snide,” I assured her. “I’m just pointing out that you’ve been protecting his identity and putting him first in your thoughts.”

She nodded. “That’s been for your protection too,” she pointed out. “I don’t want you tempted to do something to get yourself arrested.”

I nodded. “Even if he came to the door, I wouldn’t hit him,” I told her. “The only way I’d mess him up would be if he came after me with a weapon. At that point, I’d have to. I understand though. You’ve promised that he and I will never meet and that promise is good enough for me.”

She nodded. “Good. At this point, I think you should stay as far away from him as possible,” she said. “Nothing good can come of it.”

“I agree. Putting us in a room together is a recipe for disaster,” I said lightly. “That’s a worry for another day though. So you rejected his request that you leave me,” I recapped, putting us back on topic. “What about his demand that you stop sleeping with me? You didn’t tell me how you reacted to that.”

She bit her lip. “I...” she trailed off. She couldn’t say it.

I nodded. “I see.”

“It’s just for right now!” she assured me quickly. “Once he calms down, things will go back to normal.”

“No they won’t,” I told her softly. “He asked you to choose between him and me and you chose. You must really love him a lot.” I got up and left the table. I went to the bedroom I’d shared with her and started packing. I’d call Otto tomorrow and get the equipment out of here soonest.

She followed me and started trying to press the point. “Really, John! It’s not forever. It’s just ... he was mad today.”

“It’s cool, Barb,” I said woodenly. I really didn’t care, but the insult was so ingrained now that it was like she didn’t see it. “I’m just getting my shit out of your way while I’m not welcome here.”

“No one said you’re not welcome here, John! Stop!”

“No, Barb. I’ve reached the end. You’ve pushed and he’s pushed and you’ve both pushed together. I’m done! I’m the only one fighting for our marriage. I’m done fighting. He wants you to stop sleeping with me, so I guess we stop sleeping together. It’s cool. At least we ended it on a high note. You’ll have last night to remember me by.” I wasn’t lashing out at her, just stating that I was glad we’d gone out that way.

“John! Talk to me!” she begged.

“I want a divorce,” I told her and let that statement hang in the air as I stared at her.

She reacted as if I’d slapped her. “You can’t mean that!” she whispered.

“What you’re proposing is unacceptable,” I said. “I’m not staying in a marriage where I’m subject to the whims of a complete fucking stranger. I’m not gonna whimper about it or rage or make threats. He and I have both asked you to choose between us and you won’t. You won’t tell me anything about him and you won’t honor even the most reasonable requests from me. He makes the most outrageous demand imaginable and you just tell him ‘okay’. After the sex you had last night, you should have stabbed him in the throat for asking you to give that up. No problem though. You admitted that you’d never cum that much in your life and I could have kept going. You just gave that up for him. That’s why he demanded it. He saw the condition you were in today and he KNEW there was no hope in Hell that he could do HALF that much to pleasure you. He’d have to have three friends show up as reinforcements to give you all that. So, I’m admitting that I have NOTHING to offer you anymore. It was the best I had to offer and I thought this morning that it had been good enough, but I guess not.”

I went back to my packing, but kept talking to her as I filled the large suitcase. “I’ll move all my stuff out of here over the next few days,” I promised. “I’ll probably ask Sissy and Marty to help and maybe Otto. He’s a friend of mine from the gym. For tonight, I’ll sleep in the guest room. I guess I’ll cancel the SUV test-drive tomorrow. Doesn’t make sense for you to buy the outgoing husband a present.”

She was starting to cry as I talked. “Please, John! Don’t do this!” she pleaded.

I looked at her like she was stupid. “Give me one good reason to sit around here and play with myself while he gets to fuck you?” I demanded.

“I love you!”

“Prove it!” I shot back.

“Tell me how and I will, I swear!”

“Stop sleeping with him,” I said. That seemed like a fair request. “If he gets to control whether I sleep with you or not, I want the same.”

She looked like she hadn’t considered that I might demand that. “I ... I can’t promise that,” she said.

“But you promised that to him,” I pointed out.

She looked down. “Please!”

“Why is it so fucking important to you?!” I demanded. “Last night is the LAST time we’ll ever fuck because he won’t back down and you won’t stand up to him.” I went through my dresser, packing carefully and making sure I didn’t leave anything behind. I finally couldn’t fit anything more into the suitcase and zipped it up.

“I promise to talk to him, John!” she begged.

“Not good enough. I didn’t ask you to talk to him. I asked you why it was so fucking important for me to stay. You don’t want me. You want him. I’m sincerely not even angry at you for this anymore. I’m just disappointed. I thought I mattered enough to you to stick up for me when someone was treating me like shit. Turns out, you join in. You’ve been a terrible fucking wife this past six months and now you’ve promised someone else that you’ll be no wife at all.”

“Okay! I’ll tell him that cutting you off is out of the question!” she wailed.

“No,” I said. “I’m tired of fighting. Give me a reason to stay or I’m getting the lawyer and pushing for divorce. I deserve better than this and now I’m demanding it.”

She nodded. “Tell me what to do!” she said.

“Right now, there’s only one thing that will save our marriage,” I told her. “Cut out the cancer.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, confused.

“When you have cancer, you remove the tumor. You might like your leg. You might not be able to imagine living without it, but you amputate if the tumor is contained in your leg,” I told her. “He’s the tumor in our marriage. Our marriage has been dying since you started with him. Now it’s critical. Does our marriage die or do you remove the tumor?”

“You can’t ask me to do that!” she whispered.

“You asked me how to save our marriage. That’s how. On the weekend, you were afraid to be here alone because he might come here. Is that really the guy you want to throw away your marriage for?”

“I...” she wavered and I looked at her. I wondered if she’d do it. I really didn’t care. I lost nothing by pressing this point. She sat down on the bed and I could see the conflict tearing her apart. I did sympathize with her, so I threw her a bone.

“Talk to me, Barb,” I said more gently. “I honestly don’t think there’s anything left of our marriage. You keep swearing that you’ll make it up to me, but you hurt me more every ... single ... day. What’s going on? Do you have a trust fund coming if we stay married? Is there some sort of family reason that need me to wait before I check out. I don’t understand and I’d really like to.”

She sighed. “It’s nothing like that,” she said and hung her head. “I ... You’re my husband. I’m supposed to grow old with you,” she was quiet now. The fight was leeched out of her. She was talking honestly. “When I have kids, I want them to be your kids. I love him, but you’re my future. I can’t give him up. He’s ... my Kryptonite, I guess. Things with him are intoxicating and exciting, but you? I know that no matter what, you support me.”

“I’m not your future anymore, Barb. He’s stolen that future. I was wrong. He’s not cancer, he’s heroin. You’re a junkie and you’re hurting everyone who cares about you to get your fix. You know your sister stayed away this summer because of this?” I asked her.

She looked shocked. She hadn’t even noticed that Jane hadn’t been here. Her eyes stared off into the distance at nothing and then returned to mine, confused. “She told you?”

“I called her to ask why she’d skipped visiting. She loves LA and she stayed home rather than be in the middle of this,” I told her. “She wouldn’t sell you out, but when I told her I knew, we talked about it in general.”

She nodded. “I don’t know what to say. Did she say if Mom and Dad know?” she asked.

“She wasn’t sure about your mother. She thinks that your father will either shatter like glass or he’ll grasp at straws for an excuse if he finds out.”

She nodded glumly. “I don’t know what to do,” she whispered.

“Yes, you do,” I told her. “You’re scared to do it, but you know what you need to do. The only question is whether you’re ready to make the hard choice. He’s not the nice guy that he was when you started. He’s become twisted. Maybe he was always like that and the facade is worn thin now or maybe something happened that made him bitter and spiteful, but if you’re being honest with yourself, you know that it’s never going to be enough. He’ll always have one more indignity that he wants you to bring home to me. Today, he got a good look at a layer of satisfaction he can never give you. His retaliation is to cut you off from that. The fact that you agreed to it makes me inclined to let him. It’s the last line to cross. I’m done fighting. This is your intervention.” I took out my phone and dialed the phone, getting sudden inspiration.

“Hey, Stud!” Cecilia giggled. “How’re things?”

“Things aren’t that great, Sissy. As a matter of fact, they’re about the worst they’ve ever been. Can you and Marty come by the house? Not the one you sold us, but our place? It’s kind of urgent.”

She caught my tone and told me they were on their way. “Let’s go out in the living room,” I suggested. “There’s one more person I think should be involved in this talk and I’ll wait to call them until Sissy gets here.”

She nodded. I think she knew what was going on, but let herself be led to the show. When they arrived, I let them in and thanked them for coming. Then I called Jane and hoped she wasn’t out at the movies or something.

“Hi, John.” she said when she answered. “What’s up?”

“Same shit, different day,” I told her. I put it on speakerphone and joined Barb on the couch. “Jane, you’re on speaker. I have Barb here as well as Cecilia, a friend of ours and Marty, Cecilia’s husband.”

“Uh, okay...” she said, not quite sure what to make of the guest list. “Why the party-line? Not that I’m objecting, but still.”

“I came to a realization a little while ago. Barb’s boyfriend is an addiction for her. He’s her heroin, her cocaine. I can’t get through to her. I’ve tried, but she doesn’t get it. I told her I want a divorce. She’s pleading with me to reconsider, so this is her intervention. Everyone in this conversation has seen her actions or seen the damage those actions have caused. I thought I’d bring everyone together to voice their opinions. If anyone’s not comfortable speaking, that’s fine, but feel free to chip in.”

There was a few minutes of silence and then Cecilia started. “What happened? You said you told her that you want a divorce. Something must have happened today.”

I nodded. “Barb’s lover has advised her that he doesn’t feel it appropriate for Barb to continue to sleep with me on any level. She accepted his demand. He also demanded that she end our marriage for his benefit, but she refused THAT request.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,” Cecilia said dryly. “You fucked her so completely, she was moving like she’d been riding a bicycle without a seat all day today. Everyone in the office wants to know how that happened and whether it’s available to the general public.”

“Well, I explained to Barb that I’m done. I’ve been holding onto our marriage for six months and she hasn’t given me any hope that things are ever going to get better. In the last two days, I’ve found an accommodation that would allow me to have sex with my wife without feeling soiled by his presence in our life. As soon as I found that, he insisted that it stop. I’ve drawn the line and moved it and redrawn it and made allowances and this is too far.”

“What happened after we talked last night?” Jane asked.

“I think Barb should tell you that,” I said and looked at her. She looked deeply ashamed now.

“I, uh ... I came home in pretty rough shape,” she said delicately.

“Define rough shape,” Jane said sharply.

“My hair was a mess and I wasn’t dressed properly and ... my makeup was ruined.”

“Barb,” I prompted.

“Okay! His semen was all over my face! There, I said it.” She slumped on the sofa dejectedly.

“You came home like that and John didn’t KILL you?!!?” Jane snorted. “John, how did you not kill her?”

“I don’t hit women,” I said.

“Alright, so my sister came home with a big gooey facial and then what?”

“We argued,” I said. “She offered to make it all better with sex and I told her I didn’t trust her lover to be disease free, so there was no way I was having sex with her without condoms. I thought that would defuse the evening. She sent me out in the middle of the night to look for some. I guess it was pretty important to her that we have sex.”

“And then you fucked her until she broke?”

“Front and back,” I told her. “She wasn’t moving so well today.”

“Okay,” she said. “I think I understand now. Her boy-toy saw her moving around the office like an extra from the Walking Dead, realized he couldn’t do that and demanded that she stay away from the guy wearing the ‘Tap Out’ condom.”

“And she thought that was perfectly okay,” I confirmed. “I’m sorry to have pulled you three away from your evenings, but I needed a mediator. I can’t do this on my own anymore.”