Chapter 9: The Mother and Child Reunion

Hello readers. I hope you’re still enjoying my adventures. It’s sometimes hard to know because although many people read them, very few comment. I wish more people would take the time to write and tell me what they enjoyed and where they thought I’d erred. However, I’m grateful to everyone who has taken the time to read my story. I thank each and every one of you!

If you remember, my last episode finished with my best friend, Kath Loughlin, and I spending the night fucking a young musician. That was the culminating event of four days of delicious debauchery for my oldest friend and me. The following day, I returned home to find that my husband had moved most of my clothing and personal items into our guestroom. This ‘room’ was actually a series of rooms designed to be the maid’s quarters. There is a separate combined laundry, bathroom, and toilet, a small kitchenette with a stovetop and microwave oven and a lounge area with a couch that pulls out into a double bed.

Although I’d refused to acknowledge to my husband how much this action hurt me, I was devastated that my nearly twenty-year marriage seemed to be over. John had stated he wanted to seek marriage counselling, but it appeared to me that he had already decided to divorce me and was ‘going through the motions’ so he could lie to our kids and say he’d done his best to get past my ‘indiscretion’, as he called it, with my rapists Frank, Jerry (Jumbo II), Charlie, and Evan (Tiny).

I made it to the guestroom before collapsing, but as soon as I shut the door, my tears flowed, and I bawled like a baby as I rested against it.

That, my friends, is where we take up my story.

I’m unsure how long I leant against that door crying my eyes out, but I eventually ran out of tears and staggered to my feet. Dropping my clothes behind me, I crawled into bed, wrapped the quilt around me and fell into an exhausted sleep. The last four days had been an erotic masterpiece, but this morning’s emotional fallout had floored me.

I awoke alone the following day, feeling like my life was an emotional wasteland. I wasted some time cursing Edgar Fontaine, but I knew the blame lay within my slutty, incestuous, and submissive nature. Edgar couldn’t make me do anything I wasn’t morally capable of doing. Therefore, all he did was release the inner slut that raged within me. I’d ‘let the genie out of the bottle’, and now I had to pay the price.

At the end of the day, I did excuse John for his many dalliances. After all, that is what I signed up for when I married him. My mother told me many times that John would take lovers and to not let it bother me, just as she didn’t let my father’s many affairs bother her. She even suggested that I take lovers, too. But, she explained, I’d need to ensure that my husband never found out because he’d never accept me once he knew another man’s cock had been inside me. I was finding out the bitter truth of that first-hand.

I made myself shower and do my hair and makeup, although I dressed more demurely than I typically do. I own several conservative dresses to wear for events like funerals where dressing provocatively is unacceptable. This morning, I’d chosen my purple lace patchwork half-sleeve dress. Although this dress clung to my shapely figure gorgeously, it showed no skin at all except for part of my shins.

Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and walked confidently to the kitchen. John was there, but he already had toast in his hands. He looked at me through pained eyes, turned his back and walked out. Through the window, I saw him cross to the outside entrance of his new offices and go upstairs.

Suppressing a sigh, I put on a brave smile and brightly asked, “Who wants breakfast?”

Tommy and Krissy both looked at me sorrowfully but put their sadness aside before my forced cheeriness and put their breakfast orders in. Tommy requested sausages, eggs and mushrooms. Krissy asked if I was eating and suggested we share an Acai bowl.

“Dad got up before you, Mom?” Tommy asked as he ate. “That’s unusual.”

In a brittle voice, I replied, “We didn’t sleep together last night, Tommy. Your father has banished me to the guestroom at least until we see the counsellor next Thursday.”

They both gasped before Krissy said, “He’s being a dick, Mom. I’ll go and talk to him.”

“You’ll leave well enough alone, Missy,” I stated firmly. “You are not to take sides between your father and me because, at the end of the day, I have been unfaithful to your father, and he has every right to cast me aside.”

“I can’t believe you’re defending him, Mom,” Krissy exasperatedly replied.

“Let me see,” I said heatedly. “I’m fucking Frank Pritchard, Tiny, Jumbo II, and Charlie. You and I went to a sex on premises venue and blew two complete strangers. Oh, and don’t forget I’m also fucking both my children! Yet, I also forget that you and I have fucked Caoimhe...” I suddenly realised that I’d said the part about blowing guys in the sex store and fucking my son’s best friend’s sister in front of my son.

“Good on you, Mom!” Krissy hissed. “Do you want to confess that you’ve fucked Tommy’s girlfriend, her sister, mother, and Juana, too?”

She stormed off as I turned guiltily towards my son. I expected to see anger and blame in his eyes, but instead, Tommy chuckled and said, “You forgot that you’ve also had sex with Jennifer and Charmaine!”

“I’m not blameless in your father’s and my problems, Tommy,” I whispered. “I was raised to accept extramarital affairs as the norm for a woman in my position. Your father was raised to expect that his wife would remain dutiful and obedient only to him. Yes, it’s a double standard, but it’s one that I willingly accepted when your father and I married.”

“I’m curious, Mom,” Tommy asked. “If you weren’t pregnant with me, would you have married Dad anyway?”

Despite my sadness, I giggled and replied, “Only since first grade have I wanted your father as my husband, Tommy. Then, when we were nine and seven, Kath and I set out to catch John for me and Mike for her. Nothing that’s happened since has changed my mind that we were meant for each other.”

“Then we have to ensure that Dad understands that, Mom,” my son mused. “I think Krissy and I need to show a united front with you and refuse to talk to Dad until he comes to his senses.”

“You will do no such thing!” I exclaimed. “Your relationship with your father cannot be undermined by taking sides against him. He has done nothing wrong to you or your sister, and it’s totally unfair of you to take sides against him.”

Tommy grinned and answered, “The advantage of being over eighteen, Mom, is that I no longer have to take your advice!”

With that, he turned and walked out the door. A few minutes later, he waved at me from the hall leading to the foyer, got in his car, and left. Tommy had his camera slung around his neck, so I assumed he would meet Phil and Freddy and take more pictures for their burgeoning photography business.

I had nothing to do. Something utterly foreign to me. There was almost always something that needed cleaning or washing—a garden bed to till or weed. Either Tommy or John did our lawn, but even if they didn’t, it was still too short to bother mowing again. At a loss for how to fill in my time so I didn’t break down sobbing again. I got in my car and drove around. I considered going back to the SOP venue and seeing if Betty wanted to play again, but I didn’t think that indulging in more hedonistic sex was the answer to my despair.

Eventually, almost unknowingly, I pulled into my parents’ driveway. Although Mom and I spoke on the phone regularly, we hadn’t seen each other face-to-face for over three months. That was mainly my fault because Dad tended to forget I was a married woman of nearly thirty-nine years and expected me to still bow to him as I did when I lived under his roof. That, and the fact my pussy still clenched and dripped when he spoke firmly to me, kept me away for long periods.

Opening the front door, I walked through the house, looking for Mom. From the kitchen, I heard the unmistakable sounds of an abdomen crashing into an ass. Thinking Mom and Dad were fucking, I tiptoed to the end of the hall so I could watch. The thrill of this forbidden view excited me as much as it did when I spied on them in my younger years, and that little tingle I felt at the beginning of my arousal turned quickly into a blazing fire.

Reaching the end of the hall, I carefully peered around the corner only to find it wasn’t my father fucking my mother. A man had Mom bent over the kitchen table, her dress pulled above her ample bottom, and her breasts swinging free. His large, dirt-covered hands gripped her big breasts. As I watched, he squeezed her mounds and pulled her back onto his thick cock.

A small gasp escaped my mouth, and I quickly ducked back to ensure I wouldn’t be seen if I’d been heard. I knew I should have left, but the erotic sight of my mother being roughly fucked by a man a third her age had me hotter than three inches from Hades’ furnaces. So, instead, I walked back to the previous entryway and quietly made my way through the living room until I could see into the kitchen again.

This time, as I peered around the corner, Mom had rolled onto her back. The man was between her thighs with Mom’s legs thrown over his shoulders. Instead of gripping her whole mounds, the man had pinched Mom’s nipples between his fists and thumbs and was mercilessly twisting and pulling them as he thrust vigorously into her squelching pussy.

“Harder!” Mom demanded as the guy pounded her pussy. “Fuck me harder!” With a deep growl, the man began thumping into Mom with everything he had.

As I watched this sensually erotic event, my left hand lifted my dress and pulled my panties down. My right thumb flew over my clit as my fingers delved into my searing cunt.

“I’m going to cum!” The man fucking my mother grunted.

“Fill me, you fucker,” Mom yelled, spitting out a rarely heard epithet. “Fill my cunt with your fuck juice!”

The guy inside her hunched a few more times quickly as he short-stroked into her before slamming himself the whole way in and locking into a rictus. He jerked back and forth several times as he ejaculated into my mother’s soaking pussy. When the first squirt of semen hit Mom’s flooded pussy walls, she tipped her head back and wailed as an almighty orgasm blasted her apart. When her shriek tapered into a soft warble, she let her head tip to the side.

My climax was on me, so biting my lip, I stifled my moans as an intense orgasm blew through me. It had almost passed when Mom opened her eyes, grinned and winked at me. The dissoluteness of suddenly discovering that Mom knew I was there and enjoyed me watching blew me apart, and I climaxed again, barely able to contain my moans.

I stepped out of sight in time to hear the man say, “So, Mrs Shephard, you want me to weed and till the rose garden before spreading mulch across all the flower beds and then use my rotary hoe to turn over your veggie garden?”

“Yes, Simon,” Mom placidly answered. “That should take you to lunch. When you’re done, come inside, and I’ll feed you.” Then she laughed teasingly and added, “After I’ve fed you my sweet little pussy, I might even make you some lunch.”

The young man laughed, and I heard footsteps before the side door to our yard opened and closed.

A gap of a few seconds passed as I waited, uncertain of what to do. Then Mom firmly stated, “Kaitlyn Ashley Muggleton, you will go to your father’s study and select a cane for your correction. I expect you to be kneeling outside my bedroom door before I get there.”

I didn’t even consider disobeying and ran for Dad’s study. My pussy dripped as I carelessly flung my dress and panties behind me. Taking the first cane I saw, a thick, almost metre-long one, I sprinted up the stairs and fell to my knees outside my mother’s bedroom door. I’d had to ease past my mother in the hall, where she’d hesitated to adjust her dress back to decency, so I barely had time to lower my eyes and hold the cane above my head before she reached her bedroom.

Mom stepped around me and through the door. I waited until she turned and took the cane before I shuffled into the room on my knees, closing the door behind me.

Mom tapped the cane on her palm as she stared sternly down on me. “Kate Ashley Muggleton,” she said. “I believe you have some confessing and explaining to do. Out with it, girl. Why is your husband telling me you and him are having troubles?”

I opened my mouth to speak, expecting Edgar’s prohibition on discussing what we’d done to prevent me. However, as with Kath, it all came pouring out. Everything. Everything from my first visit to the clinic to letting Tommy fuck me that same night to seducing Krissy. I told her about letting Frank Pritchard fuck me and how he’d used the pictures he’d taken to blackmail me into meeting him again. Mom marvelled at my rescue by her grandson and his friends and giggled when I described what Siobhan had done to me on stage.

Then, when I got to where Tommy had convinced me to allow Frank and his perverted friends to kidnap me so he could safely break into Frank’s house, Mom sighed and looked sorrowfully at me.

“John doesn’t know any of the rest, Kate, though. Does he? He doesn’t know about you and all the other men and women, only about Frank and his three mates tying you up and fucking you?”

I confirmed that was true, and Mom looked at me concernedly and said, “Did they hurt you, baby girl?”

I laughed bitterly and replied, “No. When they took me from the station, I made my mind up to enjoy everything they did so it wouldn’t scar me forever. Even when Jumbo II forced his big cock inside me, I was more excited to see how much of it I could take than him tearing me apart. The only time I was afraid was when Frank pulled out a switchblade and tried to cut my face.”

“Believe it or not, Kate,” Mom said. “That would have been a worse result than John discovering you were raped.”

“What?” I gasped.

“I know your man, Kate,” Mom continued. “I believe once he gets over his pique at you no longer being solely his, he’ll accept that you were forced and not willing. But if you were disfigured, he’d use your rape as an excuse to get rid of you. Your beauty and shapely body are as much a source of pride to your man as anything else, Kate. He adores that he has the hottest wife of anyone he knows or has met.”

“Isn’t that shallow, Mom?” I asked. “Shouldn’t he love me for more than my looks?”

Mom stared at me disdainfully before saying, “And if John looked like a smacked ass instead of the handsome SOB that he is, would you have been attracted to him?”

I had to admit that I probably wouldn’t have been. Then Mom added, “Physical attraction is how we first meet our partners, baby girl. But if it doesn’t move beyond that, it’s just sex and won’t last.” She looked at me severely for a time before saying, “But, my girl, you already knew that! If you didn’t, you would have given your virginity to him when you were what? Thirteen? Isn’t that when I caught you masturbating without permission, and you admitted it was to images of John?”

I admitted that I remembered too, and Mom added, “Yet you waited until your eighteenth, just as we asked you to. Even if it didn’t turn out as we thought.”

“You forgot my birthday, Mom,” I said bitterly. “Three years in a row, you forgot about your baby daughter.”

“Did we, Kate?” Mom asked archly. “Or did we know what you would do, and that is what we wanted? For legal and safety’s sake, your father would not take your virginity before your eighteenth birthday. Incest between consenting adults is rarely prosecuted, but incest with an underage girl? No, Kate, that would be prosecuted to the hilt.

“Your dad and I thought you’d throw your virginity at John on your sixteenth birthday. After all, in Queensland, where we live, that is the legal age. We thought you’d submit to John then, and we’d have a third son join our family shortly after that.”

I was stunned. Well, stunned isn’t a strong enough word. Gobsmacked? Shocked? Neither of those seemed enough, either. I asked, “So when I announced I was pregnant, that was all a charade? The calling out of John and the confrontation with his father? Was it all an act? Insisting I remain pure until my eighteenth birthday so that you and Dad could introduce me to sex and what it meant to submit to a dominant man. What was that??”

Mom stated, “Kate, those things were right for your sisters. Until your thirteenth birthday, we thought they were right for you. But, baby girl, when you got your period, everything changed. Quite frankly, my girl, your father and I were astonished when you announced not long after your eighteenth birthday that you and John had had sex once and were now pregnant. We were worried you’d give it to John immediately after you hit puberty, and we did what we thought was best to ensure you weren’t a child mother.

Mother paused and then giggled, “Kate, your father and I thought you’d give John your virginity, not a baby! We thought you were both smart enough not to do that! Did we hope you’d get married? You’d better believe it! If John thought he could take our baby’s innocence and not put a ring on her finger afterwards, he had better pack his bag and start running!

“But you were going to fuck him, Kate. Your dad and I both knew it! Doing what we did meant it was special for you both, and we hoped marriage would ensue. And if I do say so myself, it all worked out quite well!”

I knelt before my mother with a zillion thoughts racing through my brain. Everything I’d thought or thought I’d known had just been exploded as a myth. My ultra-conservative parents knew of and condoned my desire to be with John? They left me on my birthday so I could be alone with John and give him my virginity?

As with Edgar Fontaine, who had suddenly changed from the bad guy in my story to an almost good one, this was staggering news. I mean, what next? Frank turns up not dead, and it was all a ruse to make me loosen my morals even further so I could enjoy uninhibited sex with anyone I chose?

“You have a lot to think about, my girl,” Mom kindly stated. “But the first thing we need to do is begin correcting your behaviour. Having the occasional discreet affair outside your marriage is okay, but to have as many lovers as you’ve had in the last twelve to fourteen weeks? That, Mrs Kate Ashley, reeks of the kind of sluttish behaviour your father and I could never condone. How many men and women have you fucked since first visiting Edgar Fontaine’s clinic?

Of course, that made me wonder if I could even remember them all. I went through them in my mind – Liz, my son, Frank, my daughter, Charlie and Tiny, Betty, seven guys in the sauna, Donkey, Siobhan, Caoimhe, Gina, Jennifer and Charmaine, Juana, two guys in the viewing room, Jumbo II, Kath, Shawna, Freya, Patrick, the four from the first night with Kath, although I didn’t actually have sex Margot. Tim and Des, Keith and David and finally Mark.

“Thirty-six all up, I think,” I informed Mom. “But I may have missed one or two.”

Mom gaped at me and disbelievingly repeated, “Thirty-six different people?”

Purposefully misunderstanding her, I said, “Well, if you’re counting repeat visitors, I’d put the number at more than twice that amount.”

‘This is not the time to be flip, Kate,” Mom stated primly. “I was thinking there had been three or four different lovers, but thirty-six? My girl, you have been a right royal slut! Thirty-six in less than six months? That’s crazy! What about birth control? The chances of getting pregnant?”

I giggled and replied, “After getting pregnant to John whilst on the pill, I now take the pill and have an IUD fitted. If I’m pregnant, it’s the second coming!”

“Still with the flip answers, Kate?” Mom asked. “It’s like you don’t care at all that you’ve acted like and become a total slut! Your father and I raised you better than this!”

My face crumpled, and I began weeping. “Mom, it’s either laugh or do this!” I bawled. “He’s going to leave me, Mom. You and I both know it. I have no skills, no prospects, and no money of my own. Nothing. Thirty-nine and on the scrap heap. I’ll be either on welfare or having to beg you and Dad to look after me! John is the only man I’ve ever loved, and until Edgar damned Fontaine, the only man I’d ever had sex with. Now look at me! A big, dumb, incestuous slut. That is all I am!”

Mom put the cane aside and knelt on my thighs. Holding my head to her bosom, she stroked my hair and crooned, “It’s okay, baby girl. I’m sure it won’t come to that. John is upset, but I believe he’ll get over it. John loves you, Kate. More than the world, does he love you. Have you booked counselling?”

I nodded, “We have an appointment on Thursday with a counsellor who specialises in long-time couples who are suddenly having problems.”

“Then, baby girl,” Mom stated. “I want you to unload both barrels into his face.”

“Mom?” I asked.

“Let the counsellor know about all John’s infidelities. All the ones you know, especially about travelling with and fucking his secretary for what? Eight years? Let rip, Kate. Do not hold a damned thing back. Get righteously angry about John cheating on you numerously, and if you are sure there’s no chance of John knowing about your sluttish behaviour, point out that you’ve been entirely faithful to him, except that you were raped!”

“How do you know about that?” I gasped.

“Come on, my child,” Mom responded. “I’m not blind. Nor do I refuse to see what is in front of me. Besides, your daughter and I are developing a very close relationship.”

“You mean, you’re fucking, right?” I bitched.

“You just added another five canes to your correction, daughter,” Mom stated. “Yes. As a matter of fact, Krissy and I are intimate. But I am doing what you should have been doing since her sixteenth birthday —teaching her how to serve a dominant man sexually.”

“She wants her father to be her first, Mom,” I stated.

“As he should be, Kate,” Mom pointed out. “Tell me you didn’t want your father to be your first. Who better than her father, with her mother’s encouragement, to teach her how to be the best wife she can be?”

“I didn’t think Dad wanted to be,” I protested. “I thought you and he had abandoned me. I mean, Jeez, Mom, I’m closing in on forty and only today have you explained what you and Dad were trying to achieve by ignoring my birthday.”

“Forty is bothering you, Kate. Why?”

“Because John recognises my biological clock is running out, Mom. If he wants more children, then soon, he’ll need a younger wife. I can’t help but worry that my perceived infidelity with Frank and his scumbag mates is John’s excuse to dump me for a younger, prettier model.”

Mom laughed, “Kate, he’d need to approach the acclaimed ‘hottest woman on the planet’, Rihanna, to have a younger, prettier wife than you! You don’t get it, baby girl, but you are ‘one hot woman!’ Sheesh, even your sisters acknowledge it!”

“Aww, Mom. That’s not true! Yvette and Mary are both hotter than me. Or they would be if they lost the weight they’ve both put on (my sisters are of a similar size to my mother, although both are a little taller).”

“I won’t argue with you, Kaitlyn, but in your heart, you know I’m right.” She stood up. “I was going to administer five corrections for every lover you’d taken, equally spread across your ass and breasts, but given the number, that seems a little excessive. Therefore, I will give you one for each and four more to serve as a deterrent. That’s a total of forty, Kate. Are you ready to start?”

“Yes, Mom,” I stated as I stood and assumed punishment position one. If you remember, this is standing with my hands behind my head and my elbows wide so my gorgeously large and firm breasts are presented invitingly to the cane.

“Ten on your breasts followed by ten on your ass, and then repeat, Miss Kaitlyn,” Mom explained.

“I’m sorry my behaviour has made you do this, Mom,” I said quietly.

Mom tittered and responded, “No, you’re not, Kate. I bet you loved every slutty moment of it. Just as I love my somewhat slutty moments. You’re not being corrected for taking lovers, Kate. You’re being corrected for being foolish enough to get caught. I know your father has lovers. That’s where he is now. He’s with a pretty young thing, not much older than Krissy. And, of course, you saw me with Simon, who’s only twenty-five. No, taking lovers is okay as long as you don’t force your spouse into facing the fact you have.”

“Isn’t that dishonest, though, Mom?” I asked. “If you’re going to have an open marriage, wouldn’t it be better just to be open? I know you and Dad brought me up to serve a sexually dominant man and accept his affairs as the price I pay to stay married, but Dad always said I had to remain faithful to my husband only. And I did, Mom. Right up until I let myself fall into the clutches of Edgar Fontaine. Until my first session with him, I’d never considered cheating on John.”

“Really, Kaitlyn?” Mom said. “You weren’t flirting with your son and fantasising about taking him to bed?”

My instinct was to shake my head and deny it, but then I remembered my behaviour in the days before my first session at the hypnotherapy clinic and had to admit that I was flirting with my son and hoped he’d take the hint and take me to bed.

“If you’d had a son or sons, Mom,” I asked. “Would you have raised them as you did my sisters and me?”

“Of course not, Kate,” Mom said exasperatedly. “We’d have taught him how to be the husband of a sexually submissive woman, how to be a sexually dominant man. But, I would have taken them to bed on their eighteenth birthday and taught them how to be a man. How to make love to a woman, how to please her until she screams with pleasure and begs you to cum inside her because she can stand no more. Your father would have accepted nothing less from me.”

“So, Mom,” I asked. “You think I should have had sex with Tommy?”

Mom looked at me levelly for a time before replying, “You had sex with him once or twice, Kate. But after that, you made love with him. That’s dangerous, baby girl, as it can lead to all kinds of inappropriate feelings and emotions. It’s why your father only had sex with your sisters once—not counting the many blow and hand jobs, of course. It is also why I hoped John would take your virginity before your father did.”

“What?” I gasped.

“Your father could easily have fallen in love with you, Kate.” Mom explained. “Not as a father with his daughter, but as a man with a beautiful woman. I knew the danger, as did he, which is why we left you alone on your birthday those three years.”

Once again, my mother had thrown me into a loop. My father could have fallen in love with me? As I’ve explained earlier, I remember my father being a strict disciplinarian as I grew up, but he was also a loving, caring father who let his daughters dress him as an old woman, complete with garish makeup and an old spotty wig, and happily sat at our dolls table exchanging sips of pretend tea from our little plastic cups.

If we messed up, which we rarely did, we would be corrected swiftly, but then we’d be equally as swiftly forgiven and welcomed back into the family fold. I was trying to incorporate the thought that my father could have fallen in love with me, but I struggled to fit the thought into my worldview.

“Earth calling Kate Ashley Muggleton!” Mom teased as she wrapped her arms around me and pressed her voluptuous body to me.

“Sorry, Mom,” I apologised. “This has turned everything I thought I knew on its head. I mean, Jaysus! What next? Frank turns up not dead, and was just another ploy to show me how to become sexually free?”

“Think about that for a moment, baby girl,” Mom said. “You already said that when Frank and his sick mates kidnapped you from the train station, you decided to accept and enjoy everything they did to you so it wouldn’t scar you forever. Is that not total sexual freedom?”

“It’s my submissive nature, Mom,” I explained. “If a sexually dominant man commands me, I’m powerless to do anything but respond sexually to him.”

“Is that not what Edgar Fontaine cured you of, Kate? We trained you to be submissive to your man, not to be a doormat for him to walk on. But, ever since you got pregnant by John, you’ve refused to listen to our advice or to hear what we wanted to tell you. Kate, if you hadn’t been so stubborn, we would have continued your training and trained your husband to be what you needed him to be. Instead, you let John turn you into a powerless slave. Something I am not, nor are your sisters. Neither Yvette, Mary, nor I would put up with our husbands shacking up with another woman every time they were separated from us.”

“Dad has fucked others all your married life, Mom,” I protested. “You said so yourself.”

“Fucked, Kate,” Mom pointed out. “Not lived as husband and wife with another woman. Monogamy is a ridiculous basis for marriage, Kate. We’ve explained that enough that you should know it! But emotional monogamy —loving only one person —is what you should aim for. Turning a blind eye to John effectively having two wives is not good for you or your kids, Kate.”