Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Between Two Lovers (Part One of the Sequel to: Something We Have to Talk
About) By Nicole Braun (aka: secrets and nici) nicolebraun77@aol.com

   I am the writer of this story and this story is my property.  No one may
post this story on the Internet, publish, copy, or use in part, without my
written consent to do specifically so.

   Since almost all of my stories are about emotions, conflict and people
coping with life, this story is not a stroke story, it is a romance story
if anything.  There are very little sex scenes in any of my writings.  So
if you're looking for a stroke story, I'm not your kind of writer, my
stories you will not like.

   ***************************************************

   The next morning found Jonathan naturally hung-over and unable to think
of working.  He called in sick for the first time in ages.  He asked, no he
told his boss that he was taking not only all his sick leave days, he was
taking a week's vacation.  When his boss became indignant, Jonathan only
answered him, "I don't care.  If you don't like it, fire me." Hanging up
the phone while his boss was still arguing with him, he mumbled to himself,
"As if it fucking matters." If he didn't work for them, he'd be working for
someone else.

   Wandering around the empty house, he knew he should be doing some
things. He should be reacting, and there were things that needed to be
done. He knew he had to find out facts for himself, not only accepting
everything Susan had told him.

   "How in the hell am I going to find a lawyer?  With my luck, I'd end up
calling her fucking boy toy." He searched through the telephone book until
he found a female lawyer.  "That should eliminate that possibility."

   Staring at the phone, he couldn't call.  There was this feeling of
finality with that simple act of dialing.  If he called this lawyer, he
would be putting everything he had worked for, for years, behind him, the
house, his marriage, his hopes for his and their future.

   His thoughts kept wandering, "This isn't true.  It isn't happening.  Not
to me.  There has to be something, something simple that explains
everything that has happened, and makes it understandable." He wanted so
badly to have the whole last day just be gone.  Totally and completely gone
from his mind, his memories and his thinking.  He questioned himself,
"Maybe it would have been better she had never told me.  Maybe we could
have gone on as we had been.  Would that have been so bad if I didn't
know?"

   For moments, memories came flooding back to him.  Memories that were
crystal clear in his mind...  that day at the hospital when the nurse
handed him his newly first born child to hold for the first time.  "What
had happened?  Where did everything go wrong?  Why am I here now?  Where
did those moments go?" Other moments flooded his mind, their first date,
him having just returned from service, she just barely out of highschool
and starting her first job.  Then that one day he took her fishing, and
they ended up swimming naked in the cold waters of that rocky creek, their
first time as lovers.  "Was there something I could do, could have done,
should do, should have done?  Should I just accept and hold on to
whatever's left?  Is that enough?  Can there be moments like those in the
future, after all that's happened?  If I don't give into her, and do
divorce her, am I destroying the possibility of them ever happening?  Where
will I go from here?  What future can I have?  Do I want that future, or is
it better to just accept?"

   Reaching for the phone, his thoughts were, "Whatever happens, whatever
the possibilities are, I need to know.  I can't let things happen like they
did yesterday." Conceding point with his emotions of denial, "I'll call and
first just ask for some advice.  I don't have to decide anything yet." The
appointment was made for the next morning.  He was asked to bring with him
any and all financial papers, tax returns, etc.

   Then first taking a couple of aspirin, he stepped into the shower,
standing only letting the warm comforting water cascade over him until he
felt his headache slowly recede.

   Returning dressed from the bedroom, he saw that the voice mail recorder
was lit.  Someone had called while he was deep in thought and showering. 
He had not heard the phone even ring.  "Jonathan, it's me.  I'm at my
parents and I'm picking the kids up.  I'm going to take them with me to my
sister's for a day, or so.  That should give us both some time to think.  I
only told mom and dad that we had an argument.  There's no need to say
more, or get anyone else involved.  I know we both said some angry hateful
things last night.  Things that should have not been said, or should have
not been said the way they were.  Please believe me, it's not as bad as
what you're thinking.  I truly do love you.  We can get through this if we
want.  I'm sorry that I sounded so harsh and ugly last night.  I didn't
want to be.  I was just too nervous and afraid..." Abruptly the tape ended.


   He spent the rest of the day searching for financial records and
contemplating how someone could profess to love two people at the same
time. He couldn't seem to understand, grasp the concept.  He knew he loved
people differently, that there were levels of love, friends, family, wife,
children, mother and father.  But, how could someone love emotionally and
sexually two different people at the same time?  "Am I missing something
here?  Could she be right, someway, somehow?  Is this somehow unique and
unusual?  Am I being too judgmental of her?  Does she love me?  Does she
love him or is she just infatuated with him, with the sex, emotions and
lifestyle he can offer her that I can't?"

   "...That I can't." With that thought, the pain gnawed again at his
innards.  She had a life away from him, foreign to him.  A life he was not
allowed a part of, a life he could not provide.  After the pain and fear
came hate and anger, followed by self-doubt.  "Why, how had I failed her?
What have I become that changed us?"

   He remembered her words, telling him how he had changed.  He didn't feel
himself changed, but then he did.  Walking into the bedroom to stare at him
self in the full-length mirror he wondered, "When had all these changes
happen?  Why hadn't I noticed them?" His thoughts darkening, "I have
changed and I'm not who I was.  I'm not the man she married.  We've been
living off of memories for how long?  I wasn't there.  I wasn't there for
her, with her, sharing.  I first left her, before she left me.  Does she
love him because he is the man I had been?  She is loving him only as an
ersatz?  Is that it?  Do I only need to win her back from him?  Is this
what it's all about?"

   Then in anger, "Do I want to win her back?  Why am I always the one at
fault?  Damn it how about me?  She isn't the same person I married either!
Isn't there such a thing as equality?  She cheated on me.  I didn't force
her to do anything!  I'm the one being hurt."

   Still thinking erratically, his mind wandered into deeper darker
passages, thoughts of her with her lover.  Thoughts of how she had said
that the sex was great.  Did that mean her lover was better than him?  Did
she do things with her lover, things she had never done with him?  Did they
have anal sex?  Did she swallow his cum?  Did he make her scream out crying
in passion she had never known before?  Was his cock bigger?

   With jealousy came pain, but also a morbid, perverse and masochistical
passion and desire.  He felt at the same time sick to the stomach with
fear, hurt and jealousy, yet also sexually aroused.  His arousal seemed to
be fed by his jealousy and doubt of self-value.  In self-debasement, he
needed to see, hear and know each and every little detail of their
lovemaking.

   He shook himself, trying to break away from the illogic of his own
debasement, yet he could not completely.  The feeling, the emotions nagged
at him.  Mentally he wanted to return to the purity of the justifiable
anger and rage he had known before.  She was doing him wrong.  Her lover
had wronged him and his marriage.  He had done nothing wrong.  He was
innocent.  Yet self-doubt continued to nag and toss in his intestines.

   Susan drove along the state highway out and up into the mountains above
their city.  The children were quiet in anticipation of visiting Aunt Jenny
and Uncle Joe.  Jenny and Joe lived in their mountain home far from
neighbors, but with, horses, dogs and cats to play with.  Alongside their
log house was a small meandering steam flowing from shaded pool to shaded
pool in the late summer's heat.  Remote from other children, they still had
plenty of adventures to occupy their time.  Jenny and Joe could have no
children, so the few visits from their nephew and nieces was always
welcomed.  Both worked from home on the Internet, so time was not a
question.  Susan knew that once there, the children would be taken care of
and happy, while she would have time away from Jonathan and Rich to think
her own thoughts.

   Having slept the night, and time having past, she was deeply regretting
how her conversation had gone with Jonathan.  She was ashamed of the part
she had willing played.  She had not wanted to say the things the way she
had.  None of the talk seemed to have gone the way she had planned. 
Nothing she had said had come out right, or was understood the way she had
intended.  She had not controlled her emotions and instead reacted to his
rage and anger, with her own anger.  In her anger, she had willingly hurt
him when she had not wanted or needed to hurt.

   She had planned to not say anything about her sexual relationship with
Rich.  Only that it was sexual.  Yet, she knew that she herself had been
the first to say anything about how their lovemaking was.  She had hurt him
unnecessarily by doing so.  Maybe even hurt him too much to repair.  She
should not have gone there.  That was wrong, very wrong.

   Driving up the meandering road her thoughts turned to her confused
feelings and emotions pertaining to her sexual relationships with both men.
Morally, she knew that her relationship with two men was wrong.  Yet doing
so felt so right.  Only during the first few times with Rich had she felt
the illicitness of having sex with someone else but her own husband.  The
same feeling of naughtiness she had as a teenager.  Nowadays their
relationship did not include that element at all.  She felt as if she had
two husbands.

   Her lovemaking with him was different, freer and wilder than with her
husband.  It seemed there was little or nothing that they had not or would
not try at least once.  Anal sex was nothing unusual.  Oral sex,
masturbation in front of each other, even her using toys to do so, were all
things that she did with him that she would never think of doing with her
husband.

   Because, she was not actually married to Rich and their relationship was
only a relationship for a time, she did not feel the moral pressures of her
upbringing.  She did not feel the need to act as the proper wife and mother
of his children.  She could easily and openly talk with him about anything
sexually, telling him of her fantasies she would have feared to tell her
husband.  So, it wasn't about the sex they had, that made the sex so good.

   Still, most times during lovemaking the images of the two men would
fade, blur and blend with each other.  She would be making love to her
husband in her mind, while making love to her lover, or visa versa.  Sadly,
she wished that in not only sex, but also in other intimacies shared with
each of the men, she could combine the two into one.  Jonathan was strong,
stable and solid; a wall to depend on, while Rich was kind, gentle,
compassionate and caring, open and understanding.

   Guilt had been very strong at first, and she had called off their
relationship twice and only gone back to him after he once had attempted
suicide, and then again when she accidentally met him while shopping.  He
had seemed to be so depressed and near suicidal again.  Then she had given
up and willingly returned to him.  Creating the situation they were now in.

   Neither of them had ever intended their friendship to become a love
affair.  Meeting at one of those house parties her husband refused to
attend, they had only talked.  She had obviously seen his depressed mood,
and listening to his story told by him and others, understood the depth of
his emotional pain.  He had enjoyed their conversations and seemed to come
out of his dark moods around her.  He had admitted to finding their talks
helpful and comforting.  He made her feel she was someone special.  He made
her feel needed and of value beyond her drab life as a housewife and
mother.

   They had for a long time continued on meeting and talking, even after
the party.  First for days they only talked on the phone.  Later they met
at cafes and restaurants during the day, when her husband was at work and
the children in school.  Nothing had been sexual all that time.  They had
grown into a close friendship only, with each of them sharing their hopes,
worries and concerns.

   Before the accident, he had worked as a Para-legal.  The settlement from
the insurance company of the car manufacturer had been a multi-million
dollar settlement.  Between having the money, time spent in the hospital,
he had given up any attempts at working.  Through their talks she had been
able to persuade him into returning back to college and studying law.

   Slowly, their relationship had moved from phone conversations and
lunches to her finally in a sisterly manner visiting him at his house.  Her
intentions had been for her to cook him a home-cooked meal.  The meal and
visit to his house had not seemingly changed their relationship much.  Yet,
more and more did she visit him, going directly to his house, and less and
less did they see each other in town.

   Before long she seemed to simply have taken over the position of
housewife, and ordered his haphazard household back into an orderly manner.
This had though brought them into a closer intimacy, and not even aware of
doing so, she often associated him and her behavior towards him, with her
husband and her behavior towards her husband.

   Unaware of even doing so, they both were slipping down a steep slope of
emotional entanglement.  Often their conversations would turn to being
sexual in nature.  They talked about their desires, fantasies and likes. 
They told each other about events in their past where each had done
something unusual and exciting.  So, with time, the atmosphere between them
became sexually charged, and then it happened.  Though they had kissed
before, that day after kissing in the kitchen, they had fervently adjourned
to his bedroom, their lunch left still uncooked, sitting on the kitchen
counter.

   After their passion had abated she had hurriedly dressed and rushed from
his house.  At home she had showered, crying while scrubbing and scrubbing
in an attempt to undo what they had done.  When he later called she refused
to answer.  She avoided all contact, and shunned places he might go. 
Plagued with guilt, she promised herself that something like that would
never happen again, and be her secret transgression known only to herself.

   Yet, a week later, hearing the news that he was in the hospital after
having taken an overdose of sleeping pills.  Knowing the feeling of guilt
for having been at least part of the cause, she visited him.  Holding
hands, they quietly promised each other never again to be intimate.  But,
that was an empty promise.  Though each felt guilty about their actions,
each was too weak and the next session of lovemaking and regrets followed
within days.

   After that final return, she gave up hope of leaving him, having a
normal life and simply accepted the finality of their affair.

   Now walking through the forest surrounding her sister's place, hearing
her children laughing and playing, she cried.  She had wanted so badly to
explain to Jonathan her thoughts and feelings.  She needed her strong,
stable, solid husband's help.  She felt trap by her own doings and did not
know any way out.  She had hoped that as a husband and wife they would have
been able to talk and somehow out of those talks find solutions.  She had
been willing to answer any questions he had about her reasoning, her
feelings, but he had not.  He had only thought about the results.  Nothing
else mattered to him.

   Everything that mattered to him was that she has sex with some other
man. She had done the dirty.  She had been nasty and slutty.  Why couldn't
he understand that it wasn't about sex?  Sex was just an expression of
emotion, an understanding of intimacy.  Everything that happened in their
lovemaking happened because of the emotions and desires they had for each
other.

   Of course she was different with Rich than with him.  Their emotions
towards each other were different than those between him and her.  She
couldn't do and act the same with her husband, simply because of the fact
that with each of them she was on a different level of intimacy,
communication and understanding in their relationships!  Each was a
different non-comparable dimension and entity.  Comparing physical acts of
love and expression was insulting and demeaning to everyone involved.

   Everything had gone wrong with their talk.  He had only reacted angrily,
and demanding.  She had not controlled herself as she had promised herself.
She had retaliated, forgetting her true purpose in wanting to bring
everything out into the open.  Never once had he asked why, not even
wanting to know.  This alone had angered her most.  He had not cared enough
about their relationship and her to know or even try to understand how such
could happen between them.  So then, she had lashed out at him in anger and
hurt him where she knew it would hurt the most.  It had been wrong, so
wrong and everything happening afterwards only made things worse.  How
could she possibly make up for the mistakes already made?

   Jonathan sat hands folded with fingers entwined, slightly hanging
between his open legs, while he looked pensively over the solid large oak
desk towards the older gray haired lady behind it.  She was reading from
the forms he had filled out before and those he had brought with him.  He
wanted to speak, to rush into explaining, telling her everything.  He
needed to tell her, to tell someone, but her whole aura demanded that he
wait, so impatiently he did.

   After finishing reading, she slowly laid the paper work aside and looked
over her reading glasses towards him.  "So please tell me why you are here.
What happened to make you decide to divorce your wife?  You don't look
well. Are you feeling okay?  Do you need help?"

   He coughed, "Yesterday, no the day before yesterday my wife told me that
she's having an affair, been having an affair for a long time.  She's...  I
don't know how to say this.  It was only...  guess I haven't gotten use to
the thought.  This is all new to me.  I don't know what to do.  I don't
know what I can do."

   "You're here because you want to know your options?  Do you think that
there isn't any possibility of reconciliation?" Her eyes were studying,
questioning him.

   Stammering in reply, "Yes...  I mean yes I need to know my options and
no I don't know if there is any possibility of reconciliation.  She says
she still loves me, and doesn't want to leave me.  But, on the other side
she doesn't want to leave him either.  It just doesn't sound right.  It
sounds so wrong.  She can't love us both.  I need to know my options."

   Then he told her what his wife had told him about how he would fare in a
divorce.  The lawyer smiled, she chuckled, and she shook her head and
frowned during his telling, only letting him have his say and not stopping
him before he was finished.

   "Some of what she told you is true.  We are in a no-fault divorce state.
Therefore the reason for the divorce is irrelevant unless you could prove
her to be criminal, a drug user, dangerously sex addicted, or incompetent
as a mother, can you?" She stared at him, watching him shake his head in
negation of her question.  "Then also the children would remain under her,
but joint guardianship.  She could not and shouldn't want to restrict your
visitation rights.  It is to her and the children's advantage that you
involve yourself as much as possible with them."

   "All equity is to be divided between the two of you.  Unless you can
prove sources of income through inheritance or such, everything would be
divided 50/50.  That would include your house, 401k, both cars and your
savings account, everything but personal possessions."

   Then taking a deep breath, "You've been working too many hours overtime
and this would be to your disadvantage in a divorce.  The courts would be
looking at your past earning history in calculating the amount of child
support and alimony you would need to pay.  Since she is not working now,
or has been working in the past, and is the mother of three smaller
children, the courts would most likely not consider requiring her to work
for some time until the children are older.  You would be paying her
alimony.  You wouldn't be living in a cardboard box, but you all would
suffer financially.  There is no question that with your earnings,
maintaining two households is costly and will cut into the quality of all
of your living standards.  Not only your own, but hers and the children's."


   Studying him for a moment before continuing, "You could file suit
against her lover for alienation of affection, but since you don't know who
he is, and now that every thing is in the open, getting sufficient evidence
to prove your case is going to be extremely hard.  Breaches of privacy are
not permissible.  If she only visits him at his house, that proves nothing
and any material accumulated from inside his house and/or without their
knowledge and consent is illegal snooping and of course not admissible in
court.  So long as they would not be misbehaving in public there is not
much that can be done, still possible, but...' She shrugged her shoulders.
"Without her willingness to testify in court, I wouldn't recommend you
using that option either."

   She then sighed deeply, "In my opinion, I would not advise you to
divorce unless there were no other options.  Mister Freemont, I would
recommend first counseling for you and your wife..." She quickly glanced
down at the paperwork seeking his wife's name then stopped, losing her
professional demeanor and in thought spoke, "Susan...  Susan Freemont?" For
moments she again studied his forms, noting address and telephone number.
From her purse she pulled out her cellphone and scrolled through her
contact list.

   Obviously shaken she looked up to him, "Mister Freemont, I...  we...  no
one knew she was married.  I'm so sorry, but this isn't going to work.  I
can't, no one here can help you.  It's a matter of confidentiality, I
sorry."

   Shocked at this turn of events, sitting on the edge of his chair, he
asked, "You know her?  He works here doesn't he?  Who is he?  Where is he?"


   Off balance, but attempting to maintain her deportment, she answered,
"No he doesn't work here.  He use to work here as a Para-legal.  We all
knew his wife.  We all were very touched by her death.  I have met Susan...
ahh...  your wife on only a few occasions."

   "Jonathan, I can't speak to you as a lawyer.  What I am saying, I'm
saying only as an involved person.  No one knew she was married.  They
seemed to fit together so well.  She was good for him.  We all were happy
for him."

   She shook her head, "This isn't right.  I know him well.  He's not the
type to be chasing after married women.  I also consider myself to be a
good judge of people.  Susan is not the type of women who could take any
relationship lightly.  There's more to this than you and I know."

   Standing up she walked over to him touching him on the shoulder, "I know
this is all new to you and you hurt, but please consider all of your
options, ask questions and find out facts before acting.  Think about the
consequences not only for yourself and for your wife, but also think about
your children."

   With that she handed him her calling card, "There's my private number on
it.  If you need to talk to someone, call me.  If you don't want to talk
with me, I know a good therapist that I'm sure you'd like."

   Walking out he begin thinking more clearly.  Even though not much had
been said, and he also had not found any solution to his problem that could
satisfy, he was beginning to understand that there never would or could be
a satisfying solution.  The problem created by his wife could only mean for
him, "Ya win some.  Ya lose some." Where did he want to win and where was
he willing to lose?  Where could he succeed and where could he not?

   Realizing his greatest fault in this affair was that he had lost
control. No not lost control, he had freely given up control over his life
to others.  Expecting them to take care of his needs.  He had passively
allowed and waited for Susan to provide him with a meaning to life, with
happiness.

   Yes, he had worked hard, but always towards goals others had set for
him. He never set his own goals, for himself, and in doing so he had
slackened and in some aspects become lazy.  He had a job, a house, a wife
and children, but he didn't have a life of his own.

   His sole hobbies and interests were decimated down to fishing, drinking
beer and watching TV.  Hell, he wasn't even interested in mechanics anymore
than at work.  He hadn't worked on a car other then to fix them when they
were broke, since his teen days.  Friends, other than co-workers and social
friends and neighbors of his and his wife, he had none.  All of his teen
buddies had some how wandered off without him even noticing.  He had let
himself go, and she had been right, he was getting fat, looking and acting
like a slob.

   Then what if they would break up?  What would be the consequences?  What
would he have to do to protect himself and his interests?  What kind of
life would he have and where were his dreams, his values?  He realized that
he seriously had to put number one back into number one's place.  Anything
else that happened...  happened.  Deal with it.

   Thinking of Susan, he knew at that time he couldn't deal with her.  She
was just too great of a question mark, a stumbling stone, and an unknown.
He was best off setting their problems aside and dealing instead with
matters and issues that he could deal with, adding her only into his plans
where and when she could become a conflict or co-exists with his interests.


   For his first step into his new life, he visited his boss, and laid down
an ultimatum.  Until further notice he would not only be not working any
overtime, he would only stay working at the Caterpillar shop on a part time
basis of four days a week.  If it would come to a divorce, then when it
did, he'd be earning less.  He'd be able later to increase his earnings, if
and when he needed to.  But, for the time being he was going to invest more
free time in his own self and his own interests.

   His next step took him to the bank where he cashed in his 401k, and
their savings account.  He then went to a second bank and opened up a new
checking account and savings account in his name alone.  Their checking
account he left open.  Both he and she would use that account for living
expenses and paying bills.  But, all income of his would first go into his
personal accounts to be processed from there.  They only had one credit
card, so he called them and arranged the one split into two accounts.  One
with only his name on it and the same limit they had before.  The other was
with both their names and a limit set at only $600.  Cost it whatever it
may, if and when she got her 50 percent from their assets, he couldn't stop
her from taking any, but he would first see that he got as much mileage out
of the money as possible, before.

   When Susan pulled into their driveway a day later the first thing she
saw was not his 8 year old Ford pickup, but rather a brand new silver gray,
crew cab, short box Dodge Ram 3/4 ton with a Cummins diesel engine.  First
pulling up next to it in the driveway, she wondered who was visiting.

   The kids scurrying in around her yelled, "Hey dad, cool truck!  Whose is
it?" But, all they heard was hammering coming up from down in the basement.
Dropping their bags, all three bolted into the kitchen and down the stairs
leaving her standing alone in the living room wondering and confused.  The
temporary license taped on the back window of the pickup and the noise
coming from downstairs, told stories.

   Dropping too her bag down in the living room, she walked in only to the
dining room and sat down with a sigh, in her chair at the dining table. 
The noise below her abated and she waited.  Cindy, their oldest, was the
first to climb back up the stairs, "Mom, daddy's fixing up the basement. 
He says his going to put in a party room for us and another bedroom and
bathroom.  He's already got the walls up.  Isn't that cool?" Tugging at her
mother's hand, pulling her up out of her chair, "You should take a look. 
Come on mom, it's going to be really neat!"

   Downstairs she found Jonathan sitting on a pile of wallboard located in
the new party room.  The other two children were sitting on each side of
him.  He had his arms on the shoulders of Joey and Nancy talking and
laughing with them.  He had a sparkle in his eyes and a broad smile on his
face.

   Looking towards the doorway and her, he stopped talking in mid-sentence
and the smile dropped from his face and his eyes turned cold.  She blushed
and dropped her eyes from him, turning to walk down the hall looking at the
bathroom and the other two rooms being created.

   She jerked in shock at the words then spoken behind her, "That room can
stay as storage and the other room with the bigger window can be..." They
both stood staring forward towards the rooms, each acknowledging but unable
to accept his unspoken words.  "Jonathan, it doesn't have to be this way,"
she finally gasped in an almost whisper.

   Little Nancy slipped in between them and raised her arms up to her
father.  "Daddy, if Joey can, can I sleep down here with you too
sometimes?" He pulled her up to him, rubbing the side of his face along
hers and holding her tightly in his arms, breathing in the soapy fresh
clean scent of her, to then give her a kiss on the cheek.  "You sure can
baby doll."

   Continued in story: Between Two Lovers Pt.2 (between2.txt)