How I Lost the Second Battle of Berlin

Sorry, no sex, just a story about a guy trying to cope with an upset in his life. I hope you enjoy and constructive criticism is always appreciated.

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My name is Steve Malone; I am fifty six, work as a retail store manager and have been married to my wife Nickole for twenty nine years. Personally, I would not trade any of those years for gold. But then again that is just me.

I guess, if you were to press me to describe myself, it would have to be average at best. Let's face it, at fifty six you just aren't as young as you were, the body settles, your hair thins in funky places and you are not as spry as you once were. On the other hand, my wife has managed to maintain a svelte figure that many twenty something's would be proud to have. In addition, she has lustrous green eyes and a smile that would warm a winter frost.

Nickole, my wife teaches German at the university near our town. She is a good woman but a bit domineering. Her parents were from Germany but fled to the United States just before WW2 began. The net result was that my wife could speak flawless German and English making her the perfect language teacher.

We met when we were in college and soon became a couple. We just seemed to complement each other, and after we graduated, marriage just seemed natural to both of us. During the last three decades we have managed to raise a daughter, pay off our house, save a few dollars and muddle through every occurrence, both good and bad that impacted our lives and still remain married. All in all I believed that we were a happy secure couple that loved each other. It just goes to prove that sometimes you just really never know.

When our daughter Hope moved out on her own things began to change in our marriage. I don't know how to describe it but Nickole seemed to become even more dictatorial than usual. She directed where we went, what we did and how long we stayed. I am a pretty easy going guy so I let her take the lead in our marriage. My reasoning behind this was that even though I was not really thrilled by her attitude and actions I figured that she would eventually grow out of it.

Time passed and she didn't abate in her brashness. One day my wife announced that we were going to a linguistic conference in Berlin that the Humboldt University was hosting. Since the school paid for her passage, we only had to dip into our savings to pay for my ticket. Figuring that I might get some good German beer out of it I went along.

Nickole seemed really happy as the conference approached and our lives did seem to get better. When we left she was almost radiant as we took the first leg of our trip to Newark airport where we were to connect with the overseas flight. On the way she held my hand and told me all the great things we would do at night when the conference was over. Ah, the thrill of promises.

When we boarded our flight to Berlin my wife was in the middle seat and I was on the aisle. The problem began then. The man occupying the window seat was Holger Miens. He was from California where he had his own language academy and he looked it. His tan was dark, his clothes expensive and his demeanor practiced. In short, he looked a bit like George Hamilton.

Unfortunately, he was attending the same conference as Nickole. Whereas I did not like the guy from the start my wife warmed to him immediately. It turned out that Holger's parents had fled East Berlin in 1961 when he was still a child. There they had immigrated to California where his parents had relatives and the rest was history.

For the next eight hours my wife ignored me and concentrated solely on Holger. They spoke exclusively in German but unfortunately I never picked up enough of the language to comprehend what they were talking over.

When we landed at Tegel airport I thought we could lose him but he wound up sharing the cab with us to the hotel. What irritated me was when we were getting in the cab he cut me off, managing to get into the back seat with my wife and forcing me to sit in the front.

The next four days were more of the same; Holger and Nickole seemed inseparable. When we went to the dinner that was hosted by the institute she sat and talked to him while I was disregarded. This made me irate as the only time I really saw my wife was at dinner as during the day they were in conferences together.

While I saw the sites of Berlin I began to wonder what sites Holger was seeing. To say I was miserable was an understatement, something was wrong and I couldn't fix it. I had tried to talk to Nickole in our hotel room but as soon as she saw where the conversation was going she became very upset refusing to discuss my concerns. In a way my attempt to talk to her backfired, as she seemed bent on on spending even more time with Holger, even after the nightly dinner.

As for me, I spent a lot of time in the Hotel bar drinking some great beer but getting no closer to a solution as to how to how to save my marriage.

The lady who ran the bar was a widow named Magda who was about my age and spoke excellent English. One day while I was staring into my beer and feeling depressed, she came over to me. "Excuse me. Is everything alright?" When I looked up at her face it seemed so friendly that I couldn't help myself and told her how Holger had seemed to manipulate my wife and cut her off from me. Thank God that the bar was empty and she had time to listen to me.

After I had spilled my guts to Magda I was surprised by her answer, she said, "You say that you already expressed your concerns to your wife?" I shook my head yes and she spoke again, "If you make your worries known to her in a more determined manner it might clarify what she has been doing to you and make her stop. If she dismisses you again than you have a serious problem and you might have to consider alternate options." It was simple and direct so I thought, "Why not, what do I have to lose?" I thanked Magda and told her I would try it.

That night, before we left for the evening dinner, I broached my concerns over Holger with Nickole. I told her that she was spending too much time with him and how she had been ignoring me. When I had exhausted my arguments over her actions and my concerns for our marriage she simply smiled and said, "Steve I think it is cute that you are jealous but this is a conference not a romantic retreat. I am doing nothing wrong and I am learning so much here. Please don't act childish and try to ruin it for me alright?"

With a few words my wife had blown me off and turned her actions back on me, making me feel guilty about my perspective. A swelling of anger began to build in me but I held myself in check. In a desperate last ditch attempt to make her see reason I gave it one last pleading try before heading down to dinner, "Nickole I am not imagining this. He is up to more than just this conference and I hope you realize it before it's too late." She only shook her head dismissively and finished dressing.

That night after the dinner she told me that she was getting together with Holger and some other colleagues for some shop talk so she would be late to our room and not to wait up. That was the point, with a sinking feeling of despair; I began to suspect that I had lost the second battle of Berlin. When I went to the bar to get a beer those "alternate options" that Magda had mentioned to me earlier seemed to be a lot closer than before.

The following day I told Magda at the bar what had transpired and she got a thoughtful look on her face. She put a fresh beer in front of me and with a confident knowing smile answered, "Here is a beer on the house. Do not worry, I will put the word out with the staff and find out if something is going on, or has gone on. It is amazing that people never seem to see the workers in a hotel, but the workers see everything. Don't worry; I am sure that your wife is not doing anything wrong."

I accepted Magda's advice and spent the whole day touring Berlin. It was lonely but I really enjoyed the pace of the city and the endless array of people. For a while I felt life seeping back into my bones.

When I saw Magda again I knew I was in trouble. She seemed hesitant to serve me puttering around the bar in an attempt to delay the inevitable. Finally, mustering up her sweetest smile she brought a beer over to me without me ordering it. As she placed it in front of me she cheerily asked, "Did you have a good day in Berlin? I knew you would want a large beer so here it is."

I felt that she was putting on a false bravado so I cut to the chase, "Magda did you find out anything about my wife and Holger?" Her smile dimmed a bit as she quickly replied, "Not anything conclusive."

I couldn't let it go so I pushed, "What does that mean Magda? What is not conclusive?"

I could see she was uncomfortable but she moved in towards me and quietly spoke, "Steven if you tell anyone where you found out what I am going to tell you, well, you know it could mean my job. Please do not do anything foolish, will you promise me that?"

I nodded my head in assent as she continued, "The maid who cleans Mr. Mien's room told me that he had been having sexual relations in his bed. There were tell-tale stains and condom packages in the trash. Other than that I have no further information. Remember Steven we don't know who he had sex with so don't go off crazy here alright?"

I assured her that I wouldn't, but I was mulling over the fact that the night before my wife had been out very late with her colleagues and came in after I had fallen asleep. It could be coincidence and mean nothing, but I was really getting an ominous feeling.

The final day of the conference ended at noon. I was surprised when Nickole sought me out urging me to take her out on the town for a nice dinner and some quality time. Without thinking I asked, "Where's Holger?"

I knew I had made a mistake as Nickole's eyes flared up with anger but then just as suddenly reverted to an icy calm, "Today my dear husband is ours and ours alone. Let's make the best of it alright?"

I agreed and we did. That afternoon we ate well, took a cruise on the Spree River and marveled at the Brandenburg gate together. I felt that maybe I had been imagining things and that now we might get back to normal. Tomorrow would see us heading home and Holger would be a dim memory.

That evening on the way back to the hotel Nickole dropped the bomb on me. I was mellow and had thoroughly enjoyed my day with my wife when it all came crashing down. We were in a cab and she reached over and tightly clasped my hand, "Steve I have to tell you something and I want you to promise to keep your temper." When she said that I knew it was going to be bad, but I promised.

She could not look at me as she began, "Honey, I have been given an opportunity to write a German language textbook with Holger in California. He has given me a position on his staff and I have requested a year of absence from the University to do it. I won't be going home with you tomorrow as I have booked a later flight with Holger."

I didn't feel the pain that I knew must follow, so I assumed I was in shock. I felt the blood drain from my face as I drolly said, "What position Nickole, doggy or missionary?"

Nickole's eyes lit up with flames as she jerked her hand from mine and hissed, "How dare you! I am your wife, not some strumpet!"

I felt the pang of defeat as I looked into her eyes and quietly asked, "Are you in love with this jerk?"

I saw tears begin to form at the corners of her eyes as she shook her head from side to side, "No! Can't you see I just want to get published?" She reached out grabbing my hand again and her determination over being published shone through. I felt that maybe I had gotten it all wrong but then her next words cut deep. "Do you know what it means in academia to get your textbook published? Can you imagine when thousands of students open up their copy of my book with the names Ruske and Miens on the cover?"

I had almost begun to believe that there might be a grain of truth in what she was saying but the name Ruske brought it to a halt. "What do you mean Ruske and Miens? Your name is Malone and has been for nearly three decades!"

She seemed to shrink a bit as she replied, "Holger felt that the book would have a more authentic feel with two German names on the cover." There it was again, Holger manipulating my wife like a child and she could not see it.

I was sick inside as I realized the extent of the hold he had on her. As a last ditch attempt to save our marriage I spoke from my heart, "Nickole don't do this. I am afraid that this separation will rip us apart. If you must write a book with this jerk why not do it through conference calls and emails? Please don't go with him. Don't do this!"

As I spoke I knew I had wasted my breath as her face hardened, "Why do you have to be so selfish Steven? This is a wonderful chance for me and instead of your support I get castigated!" Her features softened as she continued in a more soothing tone, " It will only be a year and I will come home every three months for a long weekend. I admit that this will be a bump in our marriage, but it will certainly not end it! I love you Steve! Can't you love me enough to let me go?"

I don't know when it happened, somewhere during her pleading the reality of the situation finally hit home, I had lost and there was nothing I could do about it. Nobody likes to admit it but there are certain times in your life where you just cannot win, this was one of those times. With my new found awareness I mentally capitulated. My anger dissipated and resoluteness set in as I just gazed at her face flushed with anger and concern and thought, "She is so beautiful and I love her so much, I will really hate to lose her." With as little emotion as I could demonstrate I removed my hand from hers and spoke only one word, "Go."

Nickole's mood instantly lightened up and she threw herself at me hugging me as if I was the last man on earth. Inside I still felt dead, but I let her hold me as I feared that it would soon be only a memory. When we reached the hotel I paid the driver as Nickole took off to tell Holger that she was going with him. I might have lost the 2nd battle of Berlin and I had capitulated, but I wasn't beaten.

That was our last night in Berlin, and I was afraid it might also just be our last night of married life. Nickole and I made love and it was soft, sweet and full of passion. I did my best to make it as pleasurable for her as I could, but I also sought to convey which each caress and kiss the full measure of the depth of my love for her. I had determined that if this was going to be the last act of our twenty nine years together, I wanted her to have a cherished memory to remind her of what she had given up. Also, I was thinking that Holger might just have a tougher time coping with my memory than he hoped.

That night I got closer to Nickole than I had since we were dating. However, it was to no avail because she still would be leaving Berlin with another man. I believe that is when the ultimate sadness overcame me as I felt the two of us slipping out of each other's lives. I think that she was feeling it too as she started to cry at the end and we wound up holding each other until dawn.

That morning I packed up my luggage and with a kiss and promise she would call often I left my wife in Berlin.

When I reached home the first thing I did was to engage a lawyer and hire a detective agency that had connections in California to establish a sporadic surveillance on my wife. It would be expensive and drain a lot of our savings but I figured I would have lost the money in a divorce anyway.

At first Nickole called every night to tell me how it was going in California. The calls started to drop off by the second week. By the end of her first month with Holger I was lucky to get one call a week. When she did call she claimed it was the heavy work load but after being her husband nearly thirty years I felt it was something different.

The detective agency called me in five weeks after I had hired them and gave me the bad news. My wife and Holger were definitely an item. They slept in the same bedroom at his house and shared a degree of intimacy outside in public that is usually attributed to newlyweds.

The agency was sorry about the news but I was not as broken up as I thought I would be. I had five weeks to adjust to living alone and it was beginning to set well on me. I found myself going out with friends and enjoying a more stress free life with not having to worry about someone else waiting for me at home.

Surprisingly, I found that not having Nickole yelling orders and directing my life was somewhat of a relief. I ate what I enjoyed, did what I liked and saw who I wanted. All in all, life was not all that bad. I did call my daughter a lot and she was as worried about her mother as I had been. She urged me to call her again and plead with her to come home but I refused. Nickole had made her choice and that was that.

When I had found out that she was cheating on me my only question was when to divorce her. Initially, I wanted to get it done quickly, but second thoughts prompted me to think what the heck the rush was. After all, I had a year with her away so why push it. I began to plan my future carefully and it soon took on a life of its own.

At work, my boss was the district manager and he told me that there was an opening in a big store in the next state that was in trouble. He told me that if I took it and turned it around it could mean making the jump to district manager when it came up. Normally, having my wife to worry about I would have declined an offer like that but now I agreed readily.

I asked for two weeks to get ready to go and they approved. I called my daughter, Hope, and told her that I was moving and she seemed happy for me. I never bothered to call Nickole to tell her as I really didn't care anymore.

Somewhere during this time Nickole called our daughter and Hope told her about my impending transfer. That night Nickole called in a huff. When I answered the phone her first piercing words were, "How dare you take a transfer without telling me! Who do you think you are?" I took a deep breath before I quietly replied, "I didn't think that I had to tell you."

She countered loudly getting her dander up, "You didn't think! That has always been your problem Steven, YOU DON'T THINK! We are married Steven, that means you are supposed to confer with me on any major decision!"

I felt spiteful as I icily replied, "Oh you mean like disrupting our lives by taking off to California!"

She immediately shot back defensively, "That was different! It was a great opportunity!"

I interjected, "So is this Nickole! If I do this right it could mean a district managership and a big bump in pay!"

There was an awkward silence before she resumed in a more condescending tone, "But Steven this is our lives you have changed. What about my job? What about our friends? What will you do about our home?"

I felt it was time to end the charade so I answered her questions as best I could, "Nickole when you say I changed our lives are you really sure you mean me? Listen, your job is safe, you just return to it when your leave of absence expires and you're done playing with Holger. As for our friends, they will still be here for you. The only problem will be the house, I'm afraid that we will have to sell it and split the funds."

Nickole's voice sounded muddled, "Steve you are confusing me. Why did you say playing with Holger? Holger and I are working very hard on the book every day, which is certainly not play! Also, what are you talking about splitting the funds from selling the house? Why would we do that? And how could I keep my job if I'm going to be with you?"