A Brother's 'Love'

"It can't be..." she said shocked. "He's your brother. Why would he do that?"

"I don't know, Mom. All I know is that he did. I let him stay in my home and this is how he repays me. I don't know how long they've been together but it's been at least six months, probably more. I trusted him, Mom. I trusted him..."

"Oh, George, I'm so sorry, son." Mom hugged me and I lost it. I cried on her shoulder for everything I'd lost; my wife, my marriage, and my brother. We stayed that way for several minutes, she rubbing my back and whispering her love for me. She directed me to the kitchen where she got me a cup of coffee. I sipped my drink silently, my head down, staring into the cup.

She waited patiently for me to calm down. She'd pat my hand and sigh heavily, knowing she could to nothing to ease my pain. Finally, once the cup was empty, I felt calm enough to continue.

"Sorry about that, Mom," I said embarrassed.

"Don't be silly, George. You needed to get that out of you, obviously. I'm just sorry you had to, that's all." She paused, uncertain whether she should ask what was on her mind. "So what are you going to do? What about you and Pat?"

"I took Pat to her parent's place last night. I'm going to divorce her," I said seriously.

"Divorce? Are you sure, George? Pat loves you!" she said emphatically.

"Yeah right! Pat loves me alright. She loves me so much she fucks my brother!"

"George Hewitt! I will not have you using that kind of language no matter how angry you are!"

"I'm sorry, Mom. It's just that every time I think about last night I get so angry! I'll try not to swear, Mom." I was truly sorry. I had never used that kind of language in front of my parents, ever. "I'm sorry, Mom, but I can't abide what Pat has done. It's as simple as that. It was bad enough that she cheated on me but to do it with a member of my family, my little brother, that's unforgivable."

"Speaking of your brother, what about him? He's family, George."

"Not any more, not to me. My brother died last night. The brother I grew up with, the kid I protected from bullies, the kid who asked me to take him into my home, wouldn't do what he did to me. He proved to me that he's no longer the brother I knew so he's dead to me. I never want to see or speak to him again!"

"George..." she said shocked.

"I mean it, Mom. I told him last night and I'm telling you now. If I see him again I'll kill him." The look on my face told her I was serious.

"But, George, he's family..." Mom tried again.

"Not to me he's not. Look, I understand, he's your son but so am I. I need you to support me, Mom. I never want to see him again. I don't want to hear his name! If you can't do this for me, Mom, then I'll just have to stay away. If he's here, I won't be, that's the bottom line." I rose from the table, kissed her on the cheek, and went home.

**********

I cleaned out the bedroom when I got home, the bed was the first thing to go, but ultimately I emptied the whole room. I called the Salvation Army and donated the whole mess to them; maybe someone would get some happiness out of as I certainly couldn't.

I moved my stuff to the spare bedroom and put the remainder of Pat's things in garbage bags, storing them in the garage until she could come get them. I went to the hardware store and bought new locksets since I hadn't gotten Pat's keys last night. Since I had planned to catch them I had taken a weeks vacation so having to be at work was not an issue, thank goodness, because I was pretty much useless for anything requiring mental sharpness. I called a buddy of mine who had gone through a divorce recently to get the name of his lawyer. He had done okay, or at least he didn't complain about his lawyer too much so I thought I'd use the same one. I got the name and made an appointment for late that afternoon.

I brought my pictures and video on a thumb drive but I also printed a few out, just in case. I was told that the pictures and video would probably make the divorce go easier, since he was pretty sure her lawyer wouldn't want that video shown in court. He told me he'd have the papers drawn up the next day and he'd have her served as soon as he could after that. The last detail was a deposit, which dented my bank account and only pissed me off more. It was costing *me* money because my wife and brother screwed me over! It just didn't seem fair.

By the time I'd returned from the lawyers' there were ten messages on the machine. I figured some of them would be from Pat and the rest from people I didn't want to talk to anyway so I ignored the flashing but turned off the ringers on all the phones so I wouldn't be bothered. I opened up some canned soup and settled down in front of the TV.

I'm not a drinker, mores the pity, so I didn't get stinking drunk so I could forget. I tried to keep busy, but it was a losing cause. I 'watched' a lot of TV but I couldn't tell you one program that had been on. Since I had missed so much sleep the previous night, and I didn't expect I'd get too much tonight, I took a sleeping pill. The recommended dose, no more. I was blissfully asleep soon after lying down but my dreams didn't allow for any rest. All I could seem to dream about was Louis, plowing Pat, both of them laughing at me. I woke in a cold sweat a couple of times but I managed to get a few more hours in before I dragged my sorry butt to the shower to start another day.

After two days of sulking around the house I went back to work. I couldn't take just sitting around doing nothing but thinking. I found myself going over and over what I had done to make Pat and Louis treat me like this and I got nowhere. I couldn't think of any reason that made sense. I truly hadn't thought Pat would ever cheat on me, no way. We were very happy, or so I'd thought. Why Louis did this was even more unfathomable. I'd been his best friend, as he was mine, ever since we were kids. I never thought he had any attraction to Pat, beyond that of beloved brother-in-law, of course. I guess what bothered me more than the sex, which was bad enough, was the betrayal of my trust by the woman I loved and my own brother! And that was what I found I couldn't forgive.

I was also very confused by the form of their adultery. I never thought Pat would be interested in BDSM or Domination / submission or whatever shit they were playing at. I had tried to get Pat interested in a little erotic spanking when we first got married and she'd shut me down so completely that I never tried it again. She was so pissed at me for whacking her ass that she didn't talk to me for two days! Now I find that my brother had been beating her ass with his hand and abusing her tits! He had her so under his spell that she abused her tits on the phone when he told her to! Damn, that pissed me off.

I suppose you never know the sexual kinks of your family, you don't really discuss them at the dinner table, so I guess Louis could have always been interested in dominating women. Why he had to pick my wife to dominate was a complete mystery. Maybe he saw something in her that gave him a hint that she'd be receptive to his type of advances. As much as I didn't want to know the details of their affair, I'd seen and heard enough to last me a lifetime, I did want to know why she became involved with him in that manner.

In spite of my curiosity I wasn't ready to talk directly to Pat yet. She'd left numerous messages on the machine, begging me to forgive her, that she was sooo sorry and all the usual shit you hear from a cheating spouse *after* they've been caught. I called my mother and asked her to tell Pat that she could pick up the remainder of her clothes and things from the garage on the coming Saturday as I was planning to be away the whole day. Mom voiced her displeasure with me but finally agreed to pass my message along.

I left the house very early, six a.m., to avoid any chance that Pat would be able to catch me at home. I returned well after midnight for the same reason, going so far as to drive past the house with the lights off to make sure no cars were in the driveway or the garage, thank god for wireless door openers! As I opened the back door I saw a note taped to the glass. It was from Pat of course. I had to give her credit she was going to take every opportunity to contact me that she could.

I tore the note off the glass, debating whether to read it or throw it out. The garbage can won.

**********

Three months after that horrible night I was finally calm enough to consider meeting with Pat. She'd moved from her parent's home, it was too long a commute to her job, and had rented a studio apartment in the city, or so I'd heard from my mother. I understood why my mother kept in contact with Pat; she was the daughter my mother never had and they'd always gotten along very well. Mom was almost like a second mother to Pat, they were that close. I also had to give my mother credit; she didn't nag me about Pat. She'd drop subtle 'hints' and other bits of information, like that bit about her getting an apartment, into our conversations. I'd ignore them, not giving her the satisfaction of a reaction, and she'd continue talking as if nothing was amiss. It was an interesting game we played.

I also have to say that she, and my father, respected my demand regarding Louis. No word of him was uttered in my presence while I was at their home, for which I was very grateful. They must have spread the word to our extended family as well because I never heard any comments from them either, or at least not when they knew I was within earshot. One time I did hear my aunt asking my mother about Louis but as soon as I made my presence known both of them clammed up. I smiled and said thanks as I passed through, letting them continue their conversation in peace.

So it was that on one of my visits, as I was getting ready to leave, I asked my mother if she'd do me a favor.

"Mom, I need a favor."

"Of course, Honey, what can I do for you?"

"I need you to contact Pat for me..."

"Oh, George! I'm so happy!"

"Hold on, Mom, hold on. I'm not taking her back. I've decided that I need to hear her out before the divorce becomes final, that's all. Despite what she's done she deserves a chance to tell me why she did it. Please ask her to meet me at the Friday's on Lake-Cook Road at 5:00 on Saturday. If she can't make it ask her to leave a message on the machine."

"Friday's? You can't have a private conversation there, it's too loud," she said incredulously.

"It's also very public. I don't want her going into the gory details of her affair and having a bunch of families with kids around should stop any inclination she might have to brag. I just want to know why, *not* how. If she can't meet me where I want to meet then to hell with her!" I was starting to get upset again, which wasn't a good sign.

"Calm down, Honey! You don't have to get upset. I'm sure Pat will talk to you anywhere you want. She's not going to brag, George. She's very embarrassed about what she did. She's apologized to me for driving a wedge between my sons and I've forgiven her. I hope you can find a way to forgive her too. It's not good to carry the kind of anger you've been carrying, Son."

"I suppose it depends on what she has to say to me, Mom. If she can't give me a reason I can accept then how can I forgive her? Even if I do forgive her it's not going to make a difference to our marriage. It's over. It died that night. It died a horrible death when I heard them, saw them, and it's not going to be resurrected. I know you don't want to hear that, Mom, but I'm not going to sugar coat this and I don't want you getting Pat's hopes up either. This meeting is her chance to tell me why she cheated on me, nothing else."

"Alright, George. When I talk to her I'll tell her just what you said. I hope what she tells you will allow you to move on. I think you're doing the right thing, Honey. You two need to talk, at least once, before you end your marriage." She kissed my cheek as I hugged her goodbye.

"G-night, Mom, I love you," I said as I closed the door behind me.

**********

Despite my every effort to remain calm I was very nervous. This was the first time I'd be seeing my wife since that night. How was I going to react? I'd picked the place for more than the reason I'd told my mother. I picked it because I hoped it would deter me from any outbursts as well. I didn't know if it would work but I thought it would. I wasn't the kind of guy to make a scene in a restaurant, especially one with children around.

I arrived a 4:45 and told the hostess that I'd need a table for two, non- smoking, but the other party hadn't arrived yet. She told me that she's seat us as soon as my party arrived. I was waiting by the door when Pat walked in.

She was dressed casually, a crisp cotton blouse, blue jeans, and sneakers. Her hair was pulled back from her face, and she was wearing very little make-up. She looked good, as good as she always had. Damn, why did she have to... *no* I wasn't going down that road again. We were here for her to tell me her side of the story. It was too late for what if's or what might have been's.

"Pat," I said.

"George," she said with a shy smile.

"Our table is ready," I said as I motioned to the hostess. We were seated near the windows, away from other diners but within earshot if we got loud. The hostess gave us our menus and left.

"George..." Pat started.

"Please, let's eat first. I don't want to ruin my meal and I have a feeling this conversation isn't going to be conducive to good digestion."

"Sorry," Pat said, chastised.

We perused the menu and by the time we'd made our decision the server had arrived. We place our orders and waited, mostly in silence. For some reason we couldn't find much to talk about that didn't sound inane so we didn't say much at all. The meal arrived quickly and was eaten silently as well. I actually felt sad. Before this whole mess we had been able to talk about anything. Pat was a very intelligent conversationalist and it was fun engaging her. We didn't always agree but we'd always had fun.

I ordered coffee for both of us but after it arrived the silence continued. I suppose it was up to me to begin.

"Why, Pat?" I said simply.

Pat sighed deeply. She'd known this moment was coming all evening but it didn't make it any easier to start.

"I'm so sorry, George. I don't know what got into me..."

"I know what, or *who* got into you," I hissed as I leaned close so she could hear me. "I want to know *why*!"

Pat shrank back, tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, George, I'm so, so sorry!" she cried softly.

"We've established that you're sorry, Pat. It's too damn late for sorry. Sorry should have come after the first time. I could have forgiven you if you'd told me you'd slipped or made a mistake or whatever euphemism you wanted to use after that first time, but you didn't. It's way past the time for sorry." I gazed into her eyes because I wanted to see her response to my next statement. "By the way, how long were you screwing my brother?"

You'd have thought I'd slapped her in the face! Her eyes widened and she inhaled violently. Her mouth opened and closed a few times but no words came out.

"It's not that hard a question, Pat. How long?"

She settled down, but the blush that rose up her neck told me I wouldn't like the answer.

"A-a year," she said hesitantly.

My jaw dropped, and I was now the one speechless. A year! She'd been fucking my brother for a year! And I hadn't even guessed until a few weeks before the end. Geez, what a dope I was. I guess the old clichés are true, the husband *is* the last to know!

"I see," I said trying not to react as violently as I wanted to. The restaurant had filled up more by now and that was tempering my reaction.

"I know you want a reason why I cheated but I really don't have a good one, George. It wasn't a decision I made one day. I didn't get up and tell myself that today I was going to cheat on my husband." Pat sipped her coffee, giving herself time to compose her thoughts. "It was just innocent flirting at first. Louis always flirted with me and you didn't seem to mind..."

"That's when I thought it was innocent fun! That's when I thought my brother and my wife were just friends and family! I never contemplated that either of you would do what you did!"

"I know, I know!" she wailed. She glanced down at the table but continued to talk. "One day he caught me up against the kitchen sink when I had my hands in the water. When he touched me he was so rough I screamed at him but he just kept it up. He took what he wanted and all of a sudden it was like a switch had been thrown in my brain. I wanted what he was doing and I had no control over my body. I didn't want to believe I could react the way I did to that kind of treatment but I did. Even later, after he'd left for the day and I was alone I wanted more of what he'd done to me. No matter how angry at myself I was for what I had done, no matter how ashamed I was for cheating on you, I *wanted* it! It was like I was a junkie and I needed my next fix. I kept going back for more, despite my efforts to fight it. I don't know what else to say, George, except I'm so very sorry."

I had my answer but it wasn't what I'd expected. It was worse than I'd ever thought. Her explanation told me for certain that our marriage was over. If she was, as she described it, addicted to that kind of treatment, there was no hope for us as a couple. There was no way I would or could treat her that way and I believed that she'd always desire it, even if she claimed otherwise. I couldn't live with the fear that some other man would flip that switch in her brain again and put me through the hell I'd been in ever since that night.

"Thank you, Pat. I know that had to be hard for you. I appreciate your honesty. I can't say I understand, but I can at least accept your explanation," I said quietly.

"Is there any hope for us, George? I do love you, so very much!" she begged.

"I guess you do, in your own way, Pat, but I don't see it that way. I can't see how you can do what you've done and still claim to love me. Even if I believed you love me, I couldn't accept your activities. I may have stopped you from continuing your affair with Louis but I can't live with the fear that some other man might come along someday and give you what I know I can not. I'm sorry, Pat but that's the way I feel."

"I-I-I understand, George. I had to try, I just had to!" she cried. She pulled a tissue from her purse, drying her eyes. "Thank you for meeting with me, George. I never meant for any of this to happen, you have to believe that, but I know I brought this on myself. I'm ashamed that I was so weak that I let it destroy our marriage."

"I am too, Pat. I really am going to miss you, but we both know it's not going to work for us. I forgive you, Pat, I forgive you." I sniffled a bit but smiled at her nonetheless.

We parted as friends but we both knew we wouldn't keep in touch. We wished each other well, and with a quick kiss on the cheek, went our separate ways.

**********

About a year after that horrible night the divorce was finalized. We'd sold the house and split the profits, meager that they were. We had agreed on the settlement long before the hearing, which was a mere formality. The final decree was mailed to my new apartment a few weeks later.

I've been very skittish about women since the divorce. I've had a few dates but nothing serious; certainly nobody who I was interested in dating twice. I got into a routine; I worked, I went to the gym, to help relieve stress, and I went home. Day after day, month after month. It's not a bad life but not what I'd foreseen for myself two years ago.

I suppose you're wondering if I ever forgave my brother? No. I suppose that's childish, and maybe it is. I didn't hate him, he's still my brother, but I also didn't want to see him. I knew I couldn't look at him without being saddened by his actions. It was easier for me to remember him as my little brother, who I loved as a kid, rather than as the man I'd found in my home that night. Family times are still strained but no one is willing to broach the subject with me. Maybe if someone does I'll change my mind but for now the status quo works for me.