Chapter 2

A sense of relief came over him as he sat back down and looked at the work that had piled up on his desk during the last few days. He wanted things normal again. He was tired of guessing what she may or may not have done. He wanted his loving and loyal wife back.

"Betty," he called to his secretary through the intercom, "would you grab a couple of coffees and come in to help me prioritize some things, please?"

"Sure, Ken," she answered.

By the end of the day Ken and Betty had everything caught up, and for the first time in almost a week, he was driving home in a good mood.

Jennifer, of course completely unaware of her husband's change in attitude, had spent her time sinking further into depression. Her plans to make things up to her man were all but dashed upon the rocks of his anger and mistrust. How could she start making it up to him if he wouldn't even let her in bed with him?

After doing the breakfast dishes and making the beds, Jen sat trying to come up with a way to show her husband how much she loved him when the phone rang.

Her voice was still hoarse. "Hello." There was a short silence.

"Boy, you sound terrible."

"Hi, Marge," she continued, recognizing the voice of her good friend. "Yeah, I know, I've been under the weather lately."

"Uh huh, would that have anything to do with your mysterious weekend?"

"Yeah," she tried to chuckle, "you could say that. I'm guessing Ken discussed it with Jack and he told you, huh?"

"Of course," chirped her friend. "Now what's this all about? Where the hell did you go? Did he have a big cock?"

The last question instantly set Jen off. "Damn it, Marge, how dare you ask me that, there was no cock!" she angrily replied. "I was NOT out screwing some guy!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I was just kidding. I know you wouldn't cheat on Ken. Sheesh, calm down ... now, where DID you go?"

"I can't tell you, Marge, I can't tell anyone. I'm sorry but it has to stay my secret."

Again there was a short silence from the other end of the phone. "Jen, I'm your best friend, if you can't tell me who can you tell?"

"That's just it, Marge, I can't tell anyone."

"Wow, I'm beginning to understand a little about how your husband feels."

"Oh, Marge, please don't make me feel any worse than I already do; if I could tell you I would, I'd tell Ken, but I just can't. This is something I will take to my grave, I just can't tell anyone," she said starting to cry again.

"Okay, okay, honey, don't cry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

"Did..." Jen sniffled a couple times before she could talk again; "did Jack say anything to you about what Ken intends to do? Is ... is he planning to divorce me?"

"Oh, honey, I don't know but I don't think so. Jack says Ken's awfully pissed but he didn't say anything about divorcing you.

"Oh, Marge, what'll I do if he does? I don't think I could go on without him."

"Jen, don't even think about it. Ken loves you; I doubt very much if he's planning on divorcing you, not over something like this. You didn't really do anything wrong, did you?"

Jen ignored the question. "You haven't seen him, Marge. I never saw him so angry. He threw the hall lamp against the wall and hit that painting he loves."

"Oh shit, that doesn't sound good, hon," Marge responded a little shocked.

"I know, I've never known him to lose his temper like that before. The lamp was shattered beyond repair but the painting was okay, just the frame was broken. I took it and had it reframed. It's been hanging up since yesterday but Ken didn't even notice it, or if he did he didn't say anything." He's even locked me out of our bedroom..."

"Yeah," interrupted her friend, "I heard. Jen, I'm sure he'll calm down, just give him some time."

"God, Marge, I hope you're right. If I knew he was going to be this mad I'd never have gone."

"Yeah, well don't ever do it again."

"Are you kidding, never! From now on the only fantasy I have is to be the best wife a man could want; no more headaches or, 'I don't feel like it tonight.' I just pray it's not too late."

"I'm not asking what you did but tell me, after all this, was it at least worth it?"

Jen hesitated but then answered her friend. "No; not even close. I should have left the fantasy just that, a fantasy. It was disappointing and certainly nothing I'd ever do again."

"Damn, Jen..."

"Yeah I know. All I could think about coming home was how I would make it up to my loving husband, and then..." she had to stop talking she was starting to cry again.

"Jen, I'm so sorry. Hang in there, honey; just do everything you can to assure Ken of how much you love him. I'm sure you guys will be okay."

"Thanks, Marge."

They talked a few more minutes, but in the end Jen still had no idea if her marriage would survive.

That night when Ken came home, he broke his usual tradition of going right upstairs to change. He set his briefcase down in the hall and walked around the corner and into the living room. Jennifer was still in the kitchen cooking dinner and hadn't heard him come in. She became terrified when she heard him call her name.

"Jen, would you come out here for a few minutes, please. I want to talk to you."

She walked into the living room as if she was about to face a firing squad. She was still totally unaware of what her husband had in mind. Was this it, she wondered? Was this the end of her marriage?

"Jen, sit down for a minute," he said sitting down on the sofa and patting the seat next to him. "We need to talk."

Tears started welling up in her eyes again as she cautiously took her seat.

"Okay, there's no need for the tears," Ken said looking at her. "I've decided to put this whole thing behind us."

"Oh, darling," she burst out with joy. She threw her arms around his neck and pulled them together in a hug before he could say another word. She held on for dear life, almost choking him.

"Oh thank you, darling, thank you. I promise to make it up to you..."

"Okay, okay," he said reaching back and prying her arms apart to catch his breath. "No, I don't want that; I don't want you going around here doing everything under the sun to try and make up for things ... there's no way you can do that anyway. There's no way you can erase the torture I went through, I don't care what you do. It'll never go away, I'll never forget last weekend," he solemnly told her. "But I still love you with all my heart and without proof that you did anything wrong I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt."

"Oh, honey," she broke in again kissing his face all over. "I promise I'll never do anything like that again..."

"You're damn right you won't," he interjected. "First off, I'll never give you permission like I so stupidly did before, and if you ever decide to do something like that again without my consent ... I'll tell you right now, it'll be the end for us, hear me? I don't care how important it is to you, don't even ask," he told her in a stern voice that left no doubt he meant what he said.

Once again she buried her head into his chest and surrounded him with her arms. "Oh, Ken, I love you so much. No, honey, I'll never ask for anything like that ever again, I swear."

A small smile stretched across his face as he put his hand around her head and held her close to him. It felt good to accept her apology; it felt good to forgive her and let her back into his heart.

She was almost afraid to ask, "Can I come back into our bedroom?"

"Yeah, I'll give you a hand moving your things back after dinner," he said. "Right now I'm going upstairs to change."

Jennifer watched the man she loved walk toward the stairs. Never could she remember being more relieved than she was at that moment, it was almost as if someone had just restarted her heart after it had been stopped for days. She didn't care what he said, she was still going to do everything in her power to make up for her secretive trip.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Ken still wasn't sure he wanted to make love to Jen yet. He knew what she wanted. He could feel her body throbbing with desire as she put her arm around his chest and nuzzled into him.

"I love you," she whispered. "I love you so much."

Ken turned his head and looked into her eyes. "I love you too, Jen; I'm just not sure I'm ready..."

"Oh please, please, darling, I need you to make love to me. I need to feel your passion. I need to know we're okay again, please," she revealed as she leaned in and softly pressed her lips to his.

He felt her tongue dancing with his own. The softness of her breasts gently rubbed against his chest. He reached around and grabbed a handful of her hair and pressed harder, turning her soft, sensuous kiss into one of fervency and lust. Ken's body reacted, his penis grew hard. He gasped as his wife lightly ran her finger nails along its shaft from his balls to its crown.

She smiled as she looked into his eyes. "I love you so much," she confessed.

Ken rolled over on top of her. He knew all the right buttons to push. He knew all the sensitive little places that sent fiery shock waves through her body.

Within moments Jen was squirming and moaning under her man's manipulative tongue. Her finger nails dug into his back as he maneuvered his way down her torso until he could savor the sweet taste of her loving nectar.

Jen's body tensed, her first orgasm washed over her in waves, one running into the other. Her hips bucked uncontrollably to meet her husband's oral adorations. Just when she thought she could take no more Jen felt the stiff cock of the only man she ever loved entering her. She could feel his every stroke as her breathing quickened. Lost in ecstasy, Jen screamed as another climax grabbed her soul. From somewhere in the distance she heard the impassioned groans of her lover. She could feel his body tighten, he too was coming.

It was a night of passion, of rekindling what both were afraid they had lost. Finally Ken collapsed beside his wife and closed his eyes while trying to regain a normal breathing pattern. He felt his wife breathing just as hard as he was as she cuddled into him, her naked flesh pressing against his own.

The next day at work everyone, including Jack, noticed the change is ken's demeanor right away.

"By that shit eaten grin on you face, I'm guessing you patched things up with Jen."

"Yeah," Ken responded, "I took your advice, went home and made love to her. Thanks old buddy."

Jack smiled and slapped his friend on the back. "See, I am good for something," he joked. "You think she'll let you out of the house Saturday afternoon. I thought we'd go hit a couple baskets of balls, you need the practice."

"Oh I need the practice," he responded with a laugh, "Yeah, I'll meet you at the range at two, okay?"

"I'll be there," Jack replied.

For the rest of the week everything seemed to go Ken's way. At home Jen was more attentive than she'd ever been. He knew in spite of his words, she was trying to make up for things, but what the hell, who was he to deny her of that chance; besides he was liking it.

His good fortune also carried over to the work place. Out of nowhere a perspective client who he had been trying to land for two years, all of a sudden signed one of the biggest contracts he'd ever seen. It would be worth almost two million a year to the company and a bonus for him. By the time he pulled up for Sunday's round of golf, Ken felt almost invincible.

"Well, look who showed up; ready for another thrashing?" Tara joked with a big grin.

Already she's trying to get into my head, Ken thought. Well it won't work this week. "Young lady, I will have you begging for mercy before we're done with the front nine," he countered.

And that's exactly what happened. By the time they approached the tenth tee, at just two over par, Ken was four strokes ahead of Tara and eight strokes in front of Jack and Smitty. At the end of eighteen holes Ken was finding it hard not to gloat a little after thoroughly trouncing everyone with one of the best rounds of golf he'd ever played.

As they made their way to the lounge Tara announced that the beers were on her.

"I know when I'm out-classed," she said as they found a table. "I humbly bow to the golf guru," she said with her hands pressed together in mock praying fashion and a bow of her head.

Everyone laughed.

"Ken, that was one of the best rounds I've ever seen you play," said Jack. "After all the make-up sex I'm surprised you had the energy to hit the ball that far."

Ken cringed a little. This was exactly the reason he didn't like discussing his problems with anyone, it always became public knowledge.

"Jack, not everyone needs to know about my married life," he said with a little sharpness to his tone.

"Sorry," replied Jack sheepishly.

"So that's what it takes," interjected Tara. "Maybe that's what I should do, except since my divorce I don't have anyone to have make-up sex with."

The guys all looked at each other.

"Tara, you have to be kidding, with your looks and personality, I can't believe you don't have them knocking your door down," said Ken.

"Yeah, well..." she said with a slight laugh, "between putting in fifty to sixty hours at work each week and two small kids at home, I'm lucky I can get out for a round of golf on Sundays."

Smitty broke into the conversation. "Hell, the way you play I thought you spent all your time on the golf course. Where'd you learn to play like that?"

My ex is a pro, not tour quality, mind you, but he's the teaching pro at Seven Winds country club."

"Your ex is Tony Blakely?" Ken asked.

"Yeah, you know him?"

"Not well but I've taken several lessons from him."

"Thanks," replied Tara with a small smile. "You contributed to my divorce settlement."

That got a chuckle from all, then Ken changed the subject. "Has anyone heard anything about Arnie? I tried calling yesterday but didn't get any answer."

"I talked to Linda on Friday. He went in for an MRI and some blood tests last Thursday but they won't have the results until tomorrow," Jack reported.

"Damn," said Smitty rejoining the conversation. "No offense, Tara, but we four have been playing together for many years; I sure hope he can play next week.

"Yeah, me too," responded Ken.

Tara nodded her head showing her support of their comradery. "I understand guys." She held her glass out in salute. "Here's to Arnie, may he be here playing with you guys in good health next week."

"To Arnie," everyone said while clinking their glasses together.

The next day Jack wandered into Ken's office looking a little pale. Ken watched as he crossed the room and flopped down in his favorite chair. He just stared at the floor for a moment. Ken knew they were expecting news about their golf buddy and from the look on his friend's face, it wasn't going to be good.

"Arnie?" Ken asked.

Jack nodded his head. "It's cancer," he said. "Arnie has a cancerous cyst at the base of his spine. They're going to operate day after tomorrow then he'll have to go through chemo and radiation. Linda's beside herself. She could hardly even talk over the phone."

"What's his prognosis; is he going to make it?"

"I don't know," Jack replied. "Linda was so upset I didn't want to ask a lot of questions."

"Damn, what hospital is he in?"

"Ah, Statewide, I think." Jack re-ran the conversation with Arnie's wife through his head until he remembered for sure. "Yeah, Statewide; I'm going to go up there after work, want to join me?"

"Absolutely," responded Ken. "Did you call Smitty yet, he might want to meet us up there too."

"Good idea, I'll call him from my office. See you later," he said standing up and heading for the door. "Okay with you if I call Tara as well? I think it's pretty obvious that Arnie won't be playing anymore this year..."

"Yeah, that's fine," Ken replied obviously more concerned with his friend's health than who would be filling in for him." As soon as Jack left, Ken called his wife, explained the situation, and told her he'd be home late.

Seeing his buddies walk in the room put a smile on Arnie's face; the first one in days. Linda, his wife, was in the room and warmly greeted the golfing trio. For the next two hours they talked and joked, even Linda laughed a couple times. As it came time to leave, they all expressed their confidence that he would be up and around in no-time.

It was three days after the operation by the time they all got to see him again. He looked like hell and Ken wondered if he was going to make it through the night. His wife said the doctors gave him a good prognosis but it was going to be a long, tough road. Every one of the guys saw how Linda stood by her man. The love she had for him shined through the grief. He was a lucky guy.

The following Sunday Tara was officially offered a regular spot with the foursome, or at least until Arnie was able to rejoin them. Secretly they all wondered if he would ever be able to play again. Tara, although she hated the circumstances under which the proposal was made, was thrilled to accept it.

Over the next few weeks Tara became one of the guys and didn't miss a Sunday. They even teased her about playing in the upcoming cold weather. They were die-hards and played well into November or until the snow flew, whichever came first.

"They call it playing with blue balls," Jack joked, "you going to have the balls to join us when the temperature is in the thirties?"

"Jack I never miss an opportunity to beat your ass on the course, you know that," she said razzing him right back.

As time passed their friend wasn't gaining much ground. Several times the guys would all get together and go over to his house for a visit. It had been weeks since the operation, but due to the chemo and radiation treatments he was still too weak to go back to work.

When Ken went home after his last visit, he told Jen how bad Linda looked. "All this is taking a terrible toll on his wife."

Jen really didn't know Linda very well, they had only met a few times, but Arnie was definitely a good friend of her husband's and she thought she should do something.

"Honey, do you think she would accept some help? Maybe I can talk Marge into going over there with me and see if we can give her a hand with some of the shopping or maybe laundry, house work ... something, anything that would free her up a little so she could spend more time with Arnie and maybe even get some rest."

"Honey I think that's a great idea. I'm sure Linda would welcome the help," he said while wrapping his arms around her and kissing her forehead.

She laid her head against his chest where she felt safe. She shuddered as her mind briefly wandered, putting herself in Linda's shoes. "I love you, you know that?" she asked.

Ken squeezed her a little tighter. "I know you do," he confirmed.

The next day, after making the bed, cleaning the house, and getting two steaks out to marinate, Jen called her friend.

"Hello," Marge answered.

"Hi, Marge, how are you?"

"Hey, girlfriend, I'm doing good, how about you; things finally getting back to normal?"

"Ah, to tell you the truth I'm not sure they'll ever be back to normal. He's trying but I hurt him bad. He tries to act like it doesn't bother him anymore but I can tell he's still struggling whenever he thinks about that weekend. Sometimes it feels like he's holding back; nothing major, just little things, like he'll go to say something then stops. Or, I'll see him just sitting and staring into space with a real solemn look on his face. When I ask him if something's wrong he'll say no then get up and go into another room. Sometimes he's just not as loving in the bedroom as he used to be either."

"Well hang in there, sweetie. You're right, he's been hurt and it's going to take time for him to forgive you completely, but it'll happen; just give him some space, that's all."

"God, I hope so, Marge, I'm doing everything I can. I make sure the house is spotless, I cook his favorite meals, and I haven't said no to anything in the bedroom. I'm trying so hard."

"I know you are, honey. Maybe you're trying a little too hard. Are you doing it out of love or out of guilt?"

Jen wasn't prepared for that question. She couldn't even respond at first.

After a moment of silence, Marge spoke again. "Jen?"

"Yeah, I'm here," she answered. "I just had to think for a minute. Both I guess. I ... I don't know to tell you the truth. I do feel guilty, terribly guilty for hurting him like that."

"Uh huh," replied Marge. "Maybe that's the problem. Ken's not dumb. Maybe he can sense that you're doing all that out of guilt. Inwardly he probably figures why would you feel so guilty if you did nothing wrong."

"But I did do something wrong, I hurt my husband."

"Maybe you should sit down with him and tell him that's why you've been going out of your way to make things up to him, because you feel guilty over hurting him, not for what you did when you were away."

"You know you just might have something there. He told me not to go out of my way to try and make up for things; he told me but I didn't listen."

"I would stop trying so hard," continued Marge. "If you want things to go back to normal you have to start acting normal. I'm sure Ken loves all the special attention but I'll also bet it's a constant reminder. I really think you should just relax and let things go back the way they were before your little weekend excursion."

Jen thought about what her friend said. It sounded like good advice. "You're right, Marge. That makes a lot of sense, thanks. Starting tonight I'm going to stop trying so hard to make things up to him and just be myself again." She was about to change the subject to some neighborhood gossip when she remembered the reason she called. "Oh, Marge, do you know Linda Baskin? Her husband, Arnie, plays golf with Ken and Jack."

"Actually I only met her twice," Marge responded. "I'm sure you know Arnie has cancer. Man that's got to be tough."

"Yeah, that's why I was calling. Ken's pretty shaken up over it. He says Linda could really use some help around the house; you know, cleaning, laundry, shopping, things like that. I was thinking..."

"That we could go over and help her out?" Marge interjected.

"Yeah ... what do you think?"

"Absolutely, I think it's a great idea; maybe what's-her-name, Smitty's wife would want to join us also."

"Ah, yeah what is her name," Jen said pondering. "Ah, Darlene I think."

"Yeah I think you're right. Funny, Jack hardly ever mentions Smitty anymore. All I ever hear about is Tara. If I didn't know better I'd swear he was screwing her."

"Marge, that's a terrible thing to say. You should be ashamed of yourself. You know damn well Jack would never cheat on you."

"Oh I know but every damn week when he comes home it's Tara this and Tara that..."

"Every week?" Jen asked expressing a little shock. "You mean she plays with them every week?"

"Yeah, you didn't know that? She's taking Arnie's place until he's able to play again; Ken didn't tell you?"

"No ... well I knew she filled in a couple times but I didn't know it was an ongoing thing."

"Yeah, she's been playing with the guys all summer."

"Have you ever seen her? Is she pretty?" Jen's curiosity was piqued.

"Yes and yes. I saw her briefly when my car is in the shop and I had to drop Jack off at the course last month. She was standing over by the driving range talking to Ken. She has long blond hair and a body that won't quit ... pretty face too. Jack said she learned to play golf from her ex-husband; I guess he's a pro. He gives lessons at one of the courses around here somewhere. Anyway, I have to get going, honey. Jack will be coming home soon and I don't even have dinner started yet. Did you want to see if Darlene wants to help us or keep it just you and me?"

Jen's mind was wandering and didn't catch the last part of her friend's question right away. "Huh ... oh, ah no, I think we should see if she wants to help. The more the merrier," Jen replied. "I'll see if I can get their number from Ken tonight. I'll call her tomorrow and see what she says."

The girls said their goodbyes and hung up. Without even realizing it, Jen was about to get a taste of what her husband went through. She went into the kitchen and poured herself a cup of coffee then sat down at the table to mull over some of the things her friend had said about Tara.

Hmmmm, so she has an ex, huh. I wonder why Ken hasn't told me about her, she asked herself. She fought against any thoughts of infidelity but she couldn't help feeling a small knot slowly forming in the pit of her stomach.

Ken would never cheat on me ... then again ... if he thought I cheated on him ... no, he'd never do that. She tried pushing any notions of her husband with another woman from her mind and chastised herself for even considering such a thing ... even for a moment.

She took another sip of coffee and thought back over the last couple of nights when her husband was not in the mood to have sex; how often has that happened in our eight-and-a-half years of marriage, she asked herself; and he's been awfully quiet lately. Maybe I've been wrong about those far away looks I've seen on his face. Maybe he wasn't thinking about that weekend at all; he was thinking about her ... his slut girlfriend!

"Stop! Stop it right now," she yelled to herself out loud. "What the hell are you doing? There's absolutely no reason to think he's having an affair. Stop thinking like that!"

Jen did her best to occupy her mind with other thoughts but it wasn't that easy.

Later, as she and Ken sat eating dinner, she couldn't help but bring up the subject.

"I called Marge about going over to Linda and Arnie's and helping out; she's all for it."

"Good, I think that's great, honey. I know you and Marge don't really know them very well so I think that's extremely generous of your guys," he said with a smile.

"Well, you've been playing golf with Arnie for several years, maybe it's time I got to know them better. We thought we'd call Darlene and see if she'd like to go too."

Ken's brow wrinkled. "Darlene? Who's Darlene?"

"Smitty's wife, isn't that her name?"

"Marlene, her name is Marlene. That's okay," he chuckled, "you were close."

"Well I knew it was some kind of, 'lene, '" she said joking back. Do you have their number, I'd like to call her tomorrow and see if she's interested in going with."

"Yeah, sure, it's in my address book on the computer. Their last name is Dennison."

"Okay," Jen replied. It's now or never, she thought. "Marge told me that woman, Tara, has been playing every week with you guys. How come you never told me about her?"

"What's there to tell? She's been filling in for Arnie. I'm pretty sure I did tell you."

"A while back you mentioned that the pro shop stuck you with a woman but you never said she played every week with you guys. Marge said she's very pretty."

Ken looked closer at this wife. He immediately recognized the look on her face. It was easy to spot; it was the same pain and uncertainty he saw in the mirror not so long ago. Instantly he wondered how he should play it. Should he string her along, teach her a lesson? Almost as quickly as he thought about it he decided against it. It would be petty.

"Yes, honey, Tara is very pretty. She also works long hours and has two small kids. She can barely find the time to play every Sunday, so if you're wondering if she and I have anything more in common than eighteen holes of golf once a week, the answer is no."

"Oh honey, you know better than that. The thought never crossed my mind," she said not too convincingly.

"Ah-huh, sure," responded Ken.

It was mid-November when old man winter caught Chicago in its grip. The first good snowfall put an end to golf for the next four or five months. By the time the holidays came, Jen's mysterious weekend was a distant memory. She took her friend's advice and stopped trying so hard to be the perfect wife but never let a day go by without reminding her husband of her love.

In February a cold snap hit the Midwest. Ken was still trying to warm up after returning from lunch when he heard his secretary's voice over the intercom.

"Ken, Mr. Spitzer wants to see you."

"Okay, Betty, thanks."

Mr. Spitzer was the executive vice president of corporate sales and his boss, a nice guy but all business. Ken saw an uncharacteristic smile on his face as he was shown into the big man's office. "Have a seat, Ken," he said broadening his smile even more.

Ken sat in one of the plush, leather chairs in front of the large oak desk.

"Ken, I don't know if you're aware of it but you're having a hell-of-a-year so far. You've already earned your quarterly bonus and it's only February."

"Thanks, Mr. Spitzer, I wasn't aware of that," he humbly replied.