Chapter 3

We continued dating for the next few months and had gotten very comfortable with each other. I brought Mary and Stacy to see my mom, who had given up working in my office, and was fully retired. Mary and she hit it off nicely, but mom went gaga over Stacy. She treated her as if she was her grandchild - we both knew that there would be no others. Thankfully Stacy loved her "nana" which was another hurdle overcome. Did I love Mary? Again, difficult to say. I surely liked her. I enjoyed being with her and I adored Stacy. I was happy and comfortable. We never discussed love and the future. I think that we were both content with the status quo.

My life was going along so well that I began to think about the immediate future. It was silly for me to run to Mary's place or she to run to mine. We discussed the situation and came to the decision to buy a house. That is, I would buy us a house, on that I insisted. My business was doing better than ever and I certainly could afford something nice for the three of us. We looked at a beautiful ranch in a gated golf course community not far from the ocean and I negotiated the purchase. Two months after first seeing the property we were fully moved in.

Marriage? It really never came up. By unspoken agreement it seemed that we really had no interest in that piece of paper. Both of our previous marriages had turned out badly and I think we both wanted to avoid any repetition. Marriage was an option if either one of us changed our minds, but for the presence, unnecessary. Stacy was now calling me daddy, and I, in effect, was her daddy. Life was good.

The years passed so quickly, one month blending into another. My company continued to do well. We had gained an excellent reputation and I thankfully had the personnel to keep the business growing and doing well. I didn't have to devote all of my time struggling to keep it afloat any longer. Bernie and Kate Van Horn kept in touch, and while I hadn't seen either of them since I left the area, we did manage to talk at least a couple of times a year. Of course, I was always in touch with Bed and Rachael.

Mary was doing well also. She had moved up the corporate ladder and was now the director of public relations for her firm. But it seemed that the further up she moved, the more hours were required of her and the more travel. It was nothing extreme. She was usually home about the same time I was. Now, about a couple times a week, she would call and tell me not to wait dinner for her. A meeting or something would be keeping her at the office. Either of us would, at first, run over to mom's to get Stacy until our girl became old enough to be left by herself. Mary's travel also wasn't too extreme. She usually had to see clients about once every couple of months, sometimes she was gone as much as three or four days a month, but it wasn't a cause for any discontent.

Our sex life was good. Even after so many years together, we were still able to light a fire in the bedroom. One strange thing though, Mary was never able to have an orgasm through vaginal intercourse. I remember her telling me..."Jerry, it's not anything to do with you, it's me. I love when you're in me, it excites me and I do feel something, but it's not an orgasm. Why worry about it, you give me massive orgasms with your mouth. I am very, very happy with what we do in bed."

"Okay," I thought. "If she's happy, than I'm fine with that."

Stacy... ah, beautiful, kind, compassionate Stacy. My little girl grew like topsy into a tall, blond, lovely goddess. Not only was she gorgeous but smart as a whip also. I had watched her grow over the years, totally mesmerized at her transformation from a little tot into a strong, confident, mature young lady. Stacy was now almost 20 and finishing her sophomore year at an ivy league university.

It was about this time that my life started to turn to shit again. I guess that I'm really not too perceptive, but it seemed that over the last few months Mary had become... what word or words am I looking for? Indifferent, somewhat apathetic, preoccupied... yeah, but something else. Something I couldn't quite put my finger on. I, at first, thought that it was my imagination - after all, we had been together for almost 17 years, we had settled into a routine, had become comfortable with things as they were, what the hell was so different?

I started to pay a little more attention to Mary. No, I was not more affectionate, more sensitive, more caring. I considered myself a decent companion. While I may not have loved Mary with a passion, I did care for her and wanted the best for her. I thought that we had a nice relationship, that we cared for each other and wanted each other to be happy. But things had changed and I wasn't sure exactly what or why.

I did notice one thing though - sex had become sporadic. While we were no longer young lovers, screwing like rabbits, we did manage to have sex around two or three times a week. I began to realize that the frequency of our love making had dropped. I tried to think back to the last time we had made love and... I couldn't remember. I concentrated... jeez, what it really almost two weeks. I remembered making a couple of attempts, but was kindly rebuffed with "I'm tired, honey" or "I have my period." I began to realize that slowly, over the last couple of months, we had made love only a very few times.

Okay, you know what I started to suspect. Remember, I had been through this once and I was sickened to think that it may be again happening. I decided to keep my eyes open and pray that I was totally and completely wrong. I needed to talk to Mary; if there was something bothering her I needed to know. It was after dinner, everything was cleaned and put away and I asked her to sit down in the living room.

"Mary," I began. "We need to talk. I seem to sense that something's wrong, something's bothering you. You seem like you're a million miles away sometimes, and it seems to me that you've forgotten that I'm even around. I need to know what the problem is." I kept my voice soft and non accusatory.

She sat and just stared at me. "What the hell are you talking about, Jerry? Are you getting paranoid in your old age? Are you accusing me of something? Why the hell don't you just get off my back." She then rose and stalked out of the room. I heard our bedroom door slam shut.

I sat, a bit stunned. I certainly didn't expect that kind of reaction. Mary had never spoken to me with that tone or level of disrespect. My eyes widened - that was the word I was looking for. Disrespect, over the past few months I detected a level of disrespect, a slight contempt maybe? Perhaps a bit of condescension in her tone? Was I being paranoid? I didn't think so, I wasn't imagining things. Well, I wouldn't wait as I had done years ago - I would discover what the hell was going on. I slept in the guest suite that night.

She came out of the bedroom the next morning red eyed and teary and totally apologetic. We made kissy kissy and vowed not to ever fight again. Yeah, yeah. I was conciliatory and sensitive as hell. Mary explained that the job had gotten a little stressful and they were struggling to keep a large client who was making noises about moving his business. I didn't believe one word of what she told me. Something was going on and I was going to find out what.

It wasn't unusual for Mary to work late a night or two during the week and it wasn't terribly unusual for her to have to travel somewhere where should would stay a couple of nights. These trips were usually infrequent except for the last couple of months. Yeah, I was putting things together. Maybe I was adding two and two and getting five, but I wanted to either allay my suspicions or confirm them. I wanted to know, one way or the other.

"Here we go again," I thought. I checked with some contacts and got the name of a reputable and discreet private investigation agency. I made an appointment and spoke with one of the owners. I explained what I needed and he understood. I'm sure that he heard the same story a thousand times. I gave him what information he requested as well as a pretty hefty check. Let them take care of it.

My relationship with Mary over the next few weeks was a little strained. We both recognized that a line had been crossed and we were careful around each other. No, no squabbling, no anger or even disagreements, but we were both a bit wary. Our routine didn't change. She didn't suddenly stop all travel or late nights. Things went along as they had been, more or less. I just bided my time, waiting for the information I needed, whatever it would be.

I knew in my heart what the report would contain and I was right. Being right didn't make me feel wonderful, in fact I felt like shit. They gave me chapter and verse, no explicit pictures but shots of her meeting a guy at restaurants, kissing, holding hands, going into hotels and leaving a few hours later. I also discovered that she met him when away on her trips. His name was Howard Branch, 48 years old, divorced a few years ago, 6' 3" tall, medium build, blond hair, blue eyes.

I was also informed that this guy was a real piece of shit. He had drifted from job to job, had been married three times and had deserted his wives each time, owed child support to two wives which he never paid, etc. etc. At present he was selling used cars.

I was hurt and disappointed, but I was a little surprised that I wasn't devastated as I had been the first time around with Kim. That though didn't make me feel any better. While I may not have loved Mary passionately, I was happy with her and I thought that she was also content. I was obviously wrong.

I had spent some time in reflection: Was it me? Was there something about me that invited this kind of thing. I knew that infidelity was not a rare thing, but for this to smack me in the face twice in as many relationships, was a bit too much. I know, I asked myself if I had it in me to work this out with Mary. I knew what the answer would be - I just couldn't. I guess that I'm just not strong enough, not man enough. I could forgive a lot, but the pain, the humiliation of this kind of thing was something too much for me to handle. I guess that I never learned to share when in kindergarten.

I spoke with my attorney; I thought that since Mary and I never really formalized our relationship legally, separating would be a snap. He soon let me know that despite the fact that we didn't marry formally, we, in effect, did live together as man and wife for quite awhile. He also let me know that if this went to the courts, it could be a very sticky legal mess. He suggested that I speak with Mary and see if we couldn't come to some sort of mutual agreement - it would save both of us a lot of grief.

It was on the following Friday. We had just finished a pizza for dinner and were sitting in the living room with the TV on. Neither of us were watching it.

"How long have you been screwing him?" I asked softly.

Mary look up, startled, and paled visibly. I saw her eyes fill with tears, which she blinked away rapidly. I could see her gather herself together. "I'm sorry, Jerry. I had hoped that you wouldn't find out." Her eyes filled again and the tears started to run over her cheeks.

"How long, Mary? I know his name, Howard Branch. Do you love him?" I knew that this was hurting her, I didn't care.

She had lowered her head and the tears continued. I had to strain to hear her. "About 8 months. He had recently moved to Tampa. I saw him at the mall." She looked up at me, her eyes glistening. "Jerry, he's my ex-husband, Stacy's father."

It was like she had just shoved a knife into my chest. Stacy's father??? "FUCK NO. I'M STACY"S FATHER, YOU BITCH," I exploded. No one would take that away from me.

She blanched and cowered. "That was stupid," she cried. "I know that you are, you are Stacy's father. I just meant that he is her biological father."

I was relentless. "Answer my question, Mary." I had lowered my voice, trying to regain my calm. "Do you love him? Do you love him?"

"I don't know," she wailed. "I just don't know. I don't know why I started up with him again. I knew it was a mistake, I knew that I would be sorry. I couldn't stop, Jerry. I couldn't say no to him. It was like it was when we first met and married. I knew he wasn't good for me, but I couldn't keep away from him." She was crying, gasping, trying to catch her breath. Her nose was running, she looked a mess. I rose and got her some tissues.

I felt deflated, wrung out. Damn, I also felt sorry for her. My anger had dissipated, I knew that I held the losing cards. Mary was no longer Mary, she was someone else now, whether she knew it or not. I was right back where I had first started, on the shitty end of another relationship.

I had had enough. Even though she was not the love of my life, I was hurt, hurt and disappointed in her. The lying, the cheating, the disrespect, all thoroughly disgusted me. I deserved more than that. Okay, okay, I was indulging in a little self-pity, so what. It wasn't fair. I guess not all things in life are fair.

"I'm sleeping in the guest suite tonight, Mary," I said dully to her. "I would appreciate you moving out as soon as you can find a place of your own. We'll just tell people that we drifted apart and decided to move on." People like my mom... and, of course, Stacy. Shit, that wouldn't be easy. I got up and shuffled, like an old man, to the bedroom.

I got up early the next morning and went to work. I tried to keep my mind off my personal trauma, trying to not let it interfere with my work. Yeah, like that was going to happen. When I returned home that evening, Mary was gone. She had packed most of her clothing and personal stuff. It was almost like she had never been there. Oh, yeah, she did leave something - a letter.

Dearest Jerry:

I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for the hurt I've caused you. You have done absolutely nothing to make me behave in such a shameful manner. As I tried to tell you last night, I don't understand why I can't break this attraction, this addiction, I have for Howard. I know that he will eventually destroy me. I have again vowed never to see him again, but I really don't know if I'm strong enough to keep that promise.

You have never been anything but kind and loving. None of this is your fault. You are the sweetest, most compassionate man I've ever met, and, over the past years, I've come to love you. I know that we have, or had, an unspoken agreement about that, but you have to know that I love you. That makes what I've done to us even more horrible, more unthinkable.

I will be gone by the time you are reading this. I will send for the rest of my things as soon as possible. I ask that you find it in your heart to someday forgive what I've done. I was not strong enough to stop my infidelity, my betrayal. Please don't hate me. I beg you, Jerry. Please don't hate me.

All My Love,

Mary

I collapsed into an easy chair and let the letter flutter to the floor. I felt exhausted, totally wrung out. I knew that I would miss Mary, she had been a part of my life for so long, but in another sense, I was glad that she was gone. I think that at that time I really wanted to be alone. I didn't want the responsibility of another person in my life. I needed some solitude. I needed time to get my head on straight.

Another thought then entered my consciousness, A job I needed to do. A task that I couldn't leave undone. Call it vindictiveness, call it revenge, who gives a shit what it's called. I wanted to do this not only for Mary, but for me also. She needed to start a new life without complications. I was going to see to it that she got that opportunity.

I had his address and I knew that it wouldn't be difficult. I was going to take care of Mr. Howard Branch, one way or the other and I was going to do it tonight. I quickly changed clothes and was out of the door in under 10 minutes. It took about 45 minutes to get to where he lived, a part of town that was far from affluent. His apartment building looked a little seedy, a little run down. I knocked on his door and waited.

The door opened and I got my first look at this asshole. He was a big fucker and it looked as if he didn't have much fat on him. I quickly put my hand on his chest and pushed, catching him off balance. He staggered back into the apartment and I entered and closed the door behind me. He regained his equilibrium and stared at me