We sat at the table, her holding my hand me bawling like a baby. "Clarence stop it now. I mean it. It is not the end of the world. I told you because I love you. I do not want to lose you. I do not want you finding out the wrong way about; well, about the things I am doing with Marcus," she said. I'm sure she thought her tone was supportive, but she was killing me.

"Millie, you're my wife. Is what you really want a divorce? I mean after all of these years, Millie, twenty-one years!" I said, my eyes swelling and dripping all but blood.

"Clarence, no. I do not want a divorce, and especially not after all of these years. You're my husband, not him. I love you; I use him. That's all there is to it. I need to get you to see that," she said.

"But why! Why are we even having this conversation. I need you. I take care of you don't I? I make good love to you don't I? Why are you doing this to me!" I said.

"To begin with it was all born of your fantasies; the ones you've been assaulting me with for these last many years, Clarence," she was smiling now. "It took me a while, Clarence, but I have finally come to believe that you may have had some good points and some very hot fantasies. And well, they've kinda become my reality, if that's the way to phrase it," she said. "And yes, you have taken care of me, provided for me. And yes, you do make—well, adequate love to me. I have to be honest about that, Clarence; it's what all of this is about. Really, a big part of it anyway."

"Huh? What are you saying?" I said.

"You know very well what I'm talking about, Clarence, your fantasies. You watching me with a black lover. Me dominating you. You serving me and my lover—oh all of it, Clarence; you know very well what I'm talking about. You're memory can't be that selective," she said. I looked down; I couldn't meet her eyes.

"My love making isn't doing it for you, huh?" I paused and looked away, well hell, I was embarrassed. "Well, what is, is, I suppose." I changed the subject.

"But, Millie, those were just my fantasies, not things I could really do, live with. I need you on my side, by my side, with me all of the time; not just when you have time for me," I said.

"Clarence, don't be too hard on yourself. Your lovemaking is not that bad. It's just not, well, as exciting as it once was is all. You don't have to worry about that, not at all. If you are willing, this will be very nice for you; I'll see to that. Nobody will be more important to me than you. You really have nothing to worry about," she said.

I was so hurt and shaken by her words that I couldn't breathe. I felt faint. Slowly, I began to feel—numb, puffy. I slid out my seat and lay down on the floor. I had fainted.

I woke up, it had to be some minutes later, with Millie holding me in her arms and rocking me back and forth. Jesus what a wimp ass I was! I took a deep breath and struggled to get up; she helped me.

"You all right, baby?" she said. She knelt beside my chair as I settled back into it. "I can see this has been a very big shock to you. I didn't mean to cause you so much stress. I really didn't. I just wanted to let you know how things are and that you will be right there with me the whole time. And safe! I wanted you to feel safe. But, it looks like I caused you more than a little stress and worry instead. Not my intention, Clarence. Honest to God, not my intention."

I looked down at her kneeling there. I finally knew what I had to do. At least what I thought that I had to do. "Let me get my breath back, Mil. I'll be all right. I guess the stress did get to me. I know what I have to do now," I said.

"Yes, dear, just let me do the leading for a while. It'll be best," she said. She was assuming that I was going to accept her plans; she was wrong. I might be a pussy, but I was not that big a pussy!

"No, Mil, I will be leaving in a little while. I will set the wheels of divorce in motion as soon as I can. I cannot accept second class citizenship in this marriage. I cannot accept being your wimpy little cuckold. I cannot accept just getting the occasional mercy fuck to keep me in line.

"But..." I ignored her attempt to interrupt and kept on.

"Yes, I had and have fantasies, Millie, but I never had any intention of living them out, any more than I have of donning a superman cape and trying to fly. I just could not and cannot accept the humiliation of being your cuckold, Millie. I'm a man, Mil, I need to be treated like one by my wife," I said.

"Divorce! What are you talking about, Clarence Milford! I told you I don't want a divorce. I told you everything will be fine for us. A man! Who isn't treating you like a man?

"Mercy fuck? What are you talking about? I never said anything about limiting you or belittling you or mercy fucks. Our love life will be enhanced by what I am proposing, not made less. I promised you that, I am promising you that," she said.

"Millie, I don't see it that way. I am sick at heart, and afraid of the future: a future without you because I have and do need you; it's going to be bad for me for a while. But, I cannot accept your ultimatum, Millie. You didn't even let me have a say in any of this; you just let me know it was going to be whether I liked it or not. Well, I love you, Millie, more than anything, but I don't like your proposals, especially being left out altogether in the decision to do these things" I said.

I was beginning to get my sense of balance back. I had just about decided to chance trying to stand and head upstairs to our bedroom and begin packing when the phone rang. Millie rose to answer it staring daggers at me as she did.

"Oh, hi Denise. Yes, your dad is here. Just a moment." She handed me the phone.

"Yes, baby ... Yes ... okay? ... why do you ask? ... What! ... you and your mother ... I have to go ... I mean you and your mother ... I really do have to go." I hung up on her, on my own daughter. I looked at my wife with what had to be horror painting my features.

"You talked to our daughter about this? You told her about my fantasies? You asked her opinion..." I ran out of words. My anger was almost beyond telling.

"Clarence, it's not like you think. I just had to make sure that I wasn't being selfish—crazy. Denise is a Psyche major and well—I thought..."

"You're crazy, Millie. You definitely are totally and completely nuts! She's, was, my baby. I'll never be able to face her again. Good-damn-bye," I said.

I now really did have the strength to pack and leave. In less than an hour I had not only lost my marriage, I had lost my entire family—forever. I could never again face Denise knowing that she knew—about my fantasies. That she had agreed it would be okay to cuckold me if I was okay with it. Why would she think that? It was all just too horrible to contemplate.

Millie had chased me up stairs and had had a tantrum about me leaving and my apparent plans to abandon both her and our daughter. I packed like a man possessed. I felt strange, bad, but also strange. All I knew was that I had to get out of there and fast. I was about to lose it. I did lose it; I burst into tears. I hauled my stuff out and stumbled and fell as I made for the front door. My humiliation was total. Millie just stared at me as I lay there crying. I dragged myself to my feet and made decidedly slower progress toward the door.

The interesting thing was that in her attempts to get me to not go, and to rethink my relationship with both her and our daughter; she never once said anything about being willing to give up her plans to cuckold me. This last hit me just as I was about to go out the door.

I turned as I hefted the suitcases. She was still standing there, for the moment speechless, just staring in disbelief at me. "You know, Millie, in all of your yelling in these final minutes of our marriage, you never once indicated a willingness to give up the idea of cuckolding me."

She raised her hand as if to get me to listen, but changed her mind and just looked down. It was my last memory of her. It would be years before we met again.

The day after our confrontation. I had gone to see my lawyer. I signed a power of attorney for Millie so she could sell the house and do what she wanted with our accounts. We each had our own separate credit cards and they were always paid up, so I had mine to live on until I could get relocated. Apart from the house, I gave her the eight or nine thousand in the savings, the two thousand in the checking account, and nothing else. I left instruction with our lawyer to the effect that if she tried to get my retirement to deny her everything else and make her work for it.

As for my daughter's college, I had long ago settled that matter by putting away money monthly since the day she was born to pay for it. She would have what amounted to a free ride for her entire four years at State.

I quit my job at Maclin Industries, a shipping company where I was a dispatcher. I headed for the left coast. I had to hope I could get a job fast. I didn't want to have to live long on my Visa card. I got lucky.

I began work at the first place I applied to on the same day I applied. Curtis Shipping needed a dispatcher with experience and they needed he, she, or it immediately; their current man had a medical emergency and would be retiring in two more days. I painted myself on his shoulder and absorbed everything I could as fast as I could. Needless to say my learning curve at the new company was ninety degrees to the plane. But, the fact is the job was virtually the same one I had had in Ohio.

My daily routine was always the same. Get up in the morning, eat, go to work, come home, eat, go to bed and then repeat the sequence the next day. Weekends were nothing special either, although I did hang out at a local bar on Saturday afternoons. It wasn't as crowded as the night time, and the regulars all had about the same story that I did: failed marriage or business, sometimes both, bland life since.

Every once in a while I would get really plastered and cry myself to sleep. Usually on my daughter's birthday or my wedding anniversary that sort of thing.

It was a Friday evening when the boss called me in for a talk.

"How yuh doin', Clarence," said Mr. Curtis.

"Good, sir, thanks," I said.

"Clarence, you've been doing a good job, but we have a subsidiary in Ohio that has had some organizational problems. Part of it is dispatching efficiently. Can't seem to find anyone to handle it back there, at least no one who will stay with it. Anyway I know you're from Ohio. How would you like to go back, recruit somebody to handle the job and teach 'em the ropes?" he said.

"Sir, I don't know..." I started to say.

"You would be getting a nice bonus for your efforts Clarence. I know you can use it. Word is you are saving to buy a home," he said.

"Well, sir, that's true enough. But, I don't know if I am up to the job," I begged.

"Nonsense, over these past few years, you've mastered the system inside and out. Dispatching is important to us; scheduling and turn-around is everything," he said. I threw up my hands and said okay.

I would be leaving on Friday on the four hour flight—to Columbus.

I was early for the departure. I wanted to make sure I got a window seat.

As the other passengers loaded, I was involved with reading my paperback novel when I felt rather than actually saw someone staring at me. I looked up.

"Hello, Clarence," said Millie. Now, I was the one staring. The cabin doors had just closed and I wasn't going anywhere. I noticed the seat next to mine, the aisle seat, was still vacant. I looked at it with what must have been horror. I was right to have been afraid.

"It's my seat," she said. I know my face fell.

"Don't worry, I bathed this morning," she said smiling. I did not return her good humor. She took her seat and strapped herself in.

"How?" I said.

"I've been thinking of moving out here, so I came to check out the area. I know a couple of people and they invited me to stay with them for a few days. The weather's better. And before you ask, no, I didn't know you lived here; and I didn't know you were on this plane. This seating arrangement is pure coincidence. The ticketing agent noticed the names were the same, and figured we were man and wife. You'd evidently checked in shortly before me. I didn't disabuse him of his conclusion. Anyway, he seated us together," she said.

"Maybe one of us can get another seat," I said. I began to look around for an attendant, but they were all busy getting ready for push back.

"What's the matter, Clarence, afraid I'll embarrass you?" she said.

"You've done it before," I said with feeling.

She nodded. "I guess I deserved that. If it matters, I am so sorry for what I did to you back then. You were right I was crazy to lay all that on you like that. Especially not to have talked to you about it instead of Denise," she said.

I couldn't help it; I had to ask. "How is she?" I said.

"She's good, I guess. I know for a fact that she'd like you to be the one walking her down the aisle next week," said Millie. That stopped me.

"She's getting married?" I said.

"She's twenty-four, Clarence, and she misses her daddy very much. You could at least have given her a chance to talk to you before you left," said Millie.

"I couldn't face her after—after—what she found out about me," I said. Why was I talking to this woman?

"That was my fault," said Millie. "She was just trying to be supportive. I had led her to believe that your fantasies were what it was all about, not mine. For the record she knows the truth now, and it damn near cost me my relationship with her to confess."

"Married? Who's the fiancé?" I said.

"A fellow college student, Gary Plant's his name," she said.

My next question was hard to ask. "Who's giving her away?" I said. She eyed me closely.

"Do you care?" she said. I silently sneered at her insult and looked away.

"Never mind; it's not mine to know or ask, not anymore," I said.

"I'm sorry, Clarence. Of course you care; I can't seem to stop saying the wrong things when it comes to you. I'm sorry," she said.

"Yeah right," I said.

"Clarence, it is your right and your business regardless of what you believe. Again, I'm sorry I said that. It was thoughtless of me. Anyway, It's Marcus Canby," she said.

"The man you cuckolded me with," I said. Suddenly the bile began to rise in my throat. The pent up anger of years threatening to overwhelm me.

"He took care of me when you abandoned us," said Millie. I just stared at her the old wounds opened wide again after five years.

"Seems fair to me," I said about as sardonically as I had ever said anything.

"It could be you if you would," said Millie."You could walk her down the aisle; and, take care of me too if you want to." She half smiled as she spoke.

"No thanks," I said. "I've had enough humiliation at the hands of my wife and daughter to last me a lifetime. Anymore would not be good."

"She never humiliated you, Clarence. I did, and I've apologized. But, she never did. She didn't know the whole truth when you decided to cut country," said Millie. I remained silent for the rest of the flight.

Every once in a while she would look over at me. I even thought that I detected a tear or a glassiness in her eyes, but I wasn't sure; I was trying not to look at her.

At the turntables, waiting for our luggage, she came up to me one last time. "The old Baptist Church by our old place, Saturday next, at 11:00AM." She walked off in search of her bag.

I stood there feeling numb. The woman just had a knack for destroying me. And, strange as it may sound, my cock was as hard as it had ever been watching her butt sway as she walked away from me. Jesus that woman had a hold on me. Well, anyway, it was clear her lover had an even stronger hold on her; that much was very clear!

At any rate, I had a meeting in the morning with the shipping folks. I had to get myself to the hotel and make sure I had all of the necessary materials for the recruiting rounds I would be handling muy prontisimo!

Things went well, I had a half dozen semi-qualified applicants by Wednesday. By Friday I had narrowed the field to two. I would be making a decision by the following Monday and training would begin immediately. I figured two weeks tops.

Friday evening was bad for me. Okay, I still had not made up my mind whether to attend my daughter's wedding. I had decided not to walk her down the aisle, but I wanted to be there. Even with all of the water under the bridge; I still loved my baby, and I needed to be there. I laid out my sport coat and dark trousers that I had brought along for the final interview. I didn't have a tux, but I would be sitting in the back trying to not be seen anyway.

I parked a little ways down the street from the church. I watched to see who came and especially when the bride and her mother arrived. I didn't have long to wait. I saw them get out of the limo and hustle in through a side door to the church. There would no doubt be some hustle and bustle going on in some side room for some little while, I figured.

I got out and began to meander toward the building. I was maybe a hundred yards short of my goal when half a dozen black guys emerged from a hallway separating the wings of an apartment building and surrounded me.

"Hello, Clarence," said one of the men. Nice to finally meet you," he said. I just looked at the guy. He was the only one of the six bodies under six-three and two-fifty. He was wearing a tux. It began to dawn on me.

"Marcus Canby, I presume," I said. He nodded.

"Got a minute?" he said. "We need to talk." Technically his words were a request, but five other guys each of whom outweighed me by at least a hundred pounds shepherded me more or less against my will into the hallway between the buildings from which they had first emerged.

We found ourselves in front of a door which Marcus keyed and opened for us. I was nervous, but also fatalistic. I entered; we all did.

"Sorry for the cloak and dagger," said Marcus. So far none of the others had uttered a sound.

"Whaddya want?" I said.

"I want your daughter to be happy," he said. "I want you to walk her down the aisle, forgive her her trespasses, and become a part of her life once more. She's a wonderful girl. But, you know that I'm sure."

"Me? Down the aisle? I don't think so. I was going to go to the wedding, but not now. I didn't want to be recognized. I just wanted to be there. You've clearly taken over the job of father now; I won't embarrass you or stand in your way," I said.

"What? Taken over the job of being her father? You're nuts," he said. "Oh, I would have walked her down the aisle for lack of anyone else because I like her and respect her, but take over being her dad from you? Not likely."

"For the record how did you recognize me; we've never met?" I said.

"A picture your wife showed us. We hoped you'd come. If you did we were set to talk to you even if it had to be in the vestibule of the church. But, you helped us out by camping out down the street like you did," he said.

"I see," I said. "Well, if you will kindly stand aside," I said to one of the large ones, "I'll be going."

"Ain't happening," said Marcus. He began disrobing right there. "Start shucking those duds, we're exchanging clothes. I figure we're about the same size."

"What? I don't think..." Two of the entourage began stripping me. I fussed with them for a moment, but they had me down to my unmentionables in no more than a minute's time.

"Here, put these on and be quick about it. I presume you will want to have a word or two with your daughter before you give her away," said Marcus. Frowning and acting like a complete ass, I did as he commanded. I was fast beginning to realize that I had to do this even if it was the last thing in the world I felt comfortable doing.

I was marched down the short distance to the church and left alone and terrified in a little alcove of the vestibule waiting for my baby. The tux was a bit loose, but a close fit. I was perversely buoyed by the fact that Marcus had to be uncomfortable in the somewhat tighter fit he had opted for.

It was fully ten minutes before I heard a muffled noise off to my rear. The door opened and a very beautiful woman came through, and flustered began..."Marcus I ... Daddy!" She threw her arms around me. "Daddy I love you. Will you? Are you?"

"Yes, baby, daddy is giving you away," I said. "We'll talk later."

The wedding march began and all of the bridesmaids, who had suddenly materialized, fussed with something and the wedding was on. I passed Millie seated in the front row left and handed my daughter off to her young man, a man I had never met. I took the seat Millie made for me by scooting to her left. I looked Millie right in the eye. She smirked. Score one for her side, I guess.

I was trapped after the ceremony. My daughter wouldn't let me out of her sight. Millie, for her part hung near, but made no attempt to engage me in any unwanted conversation. The odd thing was that Marcus hung out in the back where I'd intended to hang. He was there and his teammates were there, but he didn't approach me or us. That would come later, I knew, but tonight was my baby's night. The adults had to be cool and they were.

The afternoon reception went smoothly. My daughter and her new man, Gary Plant; well, new to me, were obviously happy and very much in love. He seemed a nice fellow.

It was getting on to 3:00PM before the couple could be pried away, or rather Denise from me. I told her I would be in touch when she got back. She made me promise a half dozen times before she agreed to go with her husband on their honeymoon. I had to give the guy credit; he was a paragon of patience, a good sign.

As the festivities began to slacken, I took the glass of champagne I was nursing out behind the reception room and into the hotel's garden. I was musing over the occurrences of the past week. The accidental meeting with Millie—but was it accidental? The shanghaiing of my personal body by the entire interior line of the Cleveland Browns. Was that planned? But how could it have been. I didn't even know I was coming to Ohio until a bit more than a week ago myself. Suddenly, I had a thought. Could my boss, Mr. Curtis, have been in on this? Could Millie or someone else have gotten to him and explained the situation and gotten him to join in the plot? The more I thought about it, the more I figured it had to be. I'd find out soon enough, oh yeah!

And Millie. Apart from talking to me on the plane, we'd had but polite conversation at the wedding and the reception either one. She was clearly giving me space. It seemed the only conspiracy was to get me to mend fences with my daughter. If that were the long and the short of it; I owed the lot of them. But with Millie..."

I was about to go back in and say my brief goodbyes when Marcus appeared. He was also nursing a glass of champagne.

"Nice wedding," he said.

"Yes. Yes it was," I said.

"You and I should talk. I mean if you have a mind to," he said. I looked at him. Oddly, I didn't want to kill him. I could believe that we could have been friends at some other time and place in history.

"Yeah, maybe," I said. "But I won't guarantee how long the conversation will last."

"Fair enough," he said. "Now?"

"Now would be good," I said.

"You got any questions before we really get started?" he said.

"You fucking her?" I said. He looked down, then up.

"Of course. Regularly," he said. "What did you expect cutting out like that."

"That you'd be fucking her," I said. "Hope you enjoy it."

"I do. You could too, if you weren't such an airhead," he said.

"Airhead? Because I want my wife to be faithful?" I said.

"She was faithful to you. She just had sex with me on occasion. You some kind of fucking puritan or something?

"Look, I'm gonna be less than gallant here. She led me to believe that you wanted to be cuckolded, or I would never have been with her. Well, anyway, then you left, so I stayed with her. Helped her with the bills, and well, fucked her a lot," he said. "I still am."

"Helluva a note," I said. "At least I can't fault your honesty."

"Yeah, it is, a helluva note." he said. "Out of curiosity. If she had gone about it right, I mean included you in the decision making process, would you've have been into the scene as it were?"

Now, it was my turn to smirk. "I honestly don't know. It was one of my fantasies. But, just that, only that.

"Do you know that I haven't been with a woman in a sexual way since I left? Humiliating to be telling you that, but it's so," I said. I could see that I had stopped him. "I've had a few dates, now and again, but no sex."

"For God's sakes why!" he said.

"As far as I know, we're still married. I will not cheat on my wife," I said. He wasn't smirking now.

"I don't know what to say," he said. "Millie figured you'd find another woman and get on with your life. For the record, she still loves you and only you. It is true what she told you; she doesn't love me. She likes my cock, and I am apparently better at sex than you ever were, but for she and I love has never entered into it."

"Interesting," I said. "Not much help but interesting."

"How long you gonna be in town if I can ask," he said.

"A couple of weeks probably," I said, "not exactly sure yet. I'm here on business." I looked at him closely to see if I could get an inkling of any conspiracy. I couldn't.

"Chance you'd accept an invitation to dinner, I mean at your old house? I mean with me and Millie?" I looked at him. This was out of leftfield. I don't know why, maybe out of curiosity, but I nodded my acceptance.

I felt eyes drilling holes in my back. I turned. Millie was standing there watching. She was expressionless.

"Thanks for being here for her," she said. I nodded.

"Did I hear right? You're coming home—I mean to the house for dinner?" she said.

"If you want," I said. I don't think I sounded desperate.

"Yes, that would be nice," she said. "It's still your home, you know," she added. "We're still married whether you know it or not."

"Okay, I'll be there. Seven o'clock?" I said. "And no, I didn't know if we were still married or not." She nodded her understanding.

"Seven o'clock will be fine," she said.

I rang the door bell at 7:00 sharp. It was answered less than ten seconds later. "Clarence," said Millie, "You do not have to ring the bell, it's your house, always will be." I just offered a quiet noncommittal thanks.

"Hey, Clarence," said Marcus in what seemed an overly friendly tone. "Wanna beer?"

"Yeah, sounds like a winner," I said. Well, if they were going to be jovial, so was I.

The small talk was—well—small. Dinner was the best I'd had in literally years. There are only so many flavors of TV dinners. But Millie's stroganoff was out of this world, always was.

"So," I said. "You two getting along good, I take it."

Millie looked at Marcus. She seemed confused. "What did you say to him last night?" said Millie.

"I told him the truth," said Marcus. "He deserves that. Frankly, I'm not into trying to play games with this man. Not that kind of game at any rate. He's had enough of that."

"So, Clarence, what do you think. I mean do you hate me still?" she said, getting to the point.

I smiled. "Your stroganoff was so good, I can forgive you anything," I said, it was my attempt at lightening things up a tad.

"I only wish it were that easy," said Millie. "I know I blew it with you five years ago. I have been kicking myself ever since. I..."

"Millie, it's water under the bridge. I stopped carrying around that baggage a long time ago. I wish it could have been different too," I said.

Marcus had been playing with his beer bottle which was demonstrably empty. "It still could be, Clarence, if you want," he said.

"Huh?" I said.

"I've heard the tale a hundred times from Millie. If she had only asked your permission, or at least listened to your objections, or entertained your limitations. Laying it on you like you had no say, that it was a done deal whether you liked it or not; that wasn't going to fly, and she should have known it," he said.

"Or not considered it at all," I added.

"Yes, that too. The question is, if we are dealing with hypotheticals here, what would your conditions have been if she had had the sense to ask?" said Marcus. Millie was looking askance at him.

"I don't know. I never gave it any thought," I said. "I was too angry, way too angry, after the fact like that."

"Would I be out of line to ask you to give it some consideration now?" he said.

"Probably, but in any event, I'd have to have time to think about it; I mean since we are talking hypotheticals here," I said. Marcus nodded.

Millie took a sip of the white wine she was nursing. "Clarence, can I ask you a question? You can demur to answer if you think it's too personal," she said. I nodded for her to go ahead. "No, no. It is too personal; I don't need to know. Forget it."