When We Were Married Ch. 06D

"I'm not dying and I don't know anything about the Cartel's plans but, what's happened, what could happen, convinced me to do this. I made a fair amount of money by selling a few stories to television when I was up in New York and for some articles. I used the money to buy an annuity that should run for the next 10 to 20 years. More than long enough."

"A million dollar life insurance policy?"

"You can buy a million dollar term life insurance policy with no riders if you're willing to pay enough, and I had enough to pay the premiums for 15 or 20 years and after that you and the kids wouldn't need it. They'll be grown and I'm sure you'll be remarried and have a wealthy husband. However, in the meantime, you and they won't have any money worries."

She shook her head.

"Bill...."

'I'm not a big spender, Deb. What do I need the extra money for? I sold the rights and the interviews to provide for you and the kids. I'll be fine and I won't be worrying about you, or them."

"But...how can you-?"

"The kids will receive $250,000 apiece with you as the executor until they reach 25. You get the balance of $500,000 because I don't think they could handle that kind of money until they're older. Despite losing your mind for a few months over Doug's cock, I know you love them and you will watch over them if I'm gone. I trust you to take care of them."

She put her hands over her mouth as if she wanted to scream.

"Don't do this, Bill. God damn, please don't do this. Leave me a little pride. Be an asshole toward me, like you have been - don't be so damned nice."

"Can't help it, Deb. I have loved you for half my life, and a part of me will love you for the rest of my life. Just hold onto the papers. I hope you can throw them away in 20 years or so."

I turned and walked to the door of her office. When I glanced back at her she was still staring at the insurance papers on her desk.

"You remember that day you told me you were divorcing me? I told you to have a good life, but what I really meant was that I hoped you died in agony. However, now I mean this. Have a good life, Debbie. When I walk out this door, we can start working on the next part of our lives."

I walked out on the woman who had been my life without looking back again.

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She looked at the door for a long time. She reached out and ran her hand over the insurance papers but they didn't disappear. They were as real, as solid, as they had been when she touched them for the first time.

Twenty years ago she had stared at a stranger with tubes all over him and wondered why he had risked his life for a woman he didn't know. A few nights before she had learned that he was willing to give up his soul to protect her and their children, and a few minutes ago she had learned that he had never stopped loving her, and probably never could.

"Why didn't I love you enough to see past the fat and the middle-aged bald guy and see the man you always were?"

Even now, she didn't know the answer. She still had swirling emotions about him. She could have fucked him that night in their bed, but the anger and the resentment he stirred would still have been there. She would have wound up hurting him again. She knew it. It was better this way. Let him find someone else who could make him happy.

She saw him with Myra, and she could stand that, or that police detective, or women from his office. Someone younger than she and Bill were. Maybe somebody who could even give him another child. He had been a good father at the beginning, and maybe he'd learned enough that he wouldn't mess it up a second time.

Anybody but Aline. Even as she saw the Frenchwoman in her mind's eye her gut clenched and she knew she couldn't stand that, but it wasn't going to happen. Aline was half a world away and she wouldn't come back. She had a son to hold her in Paris. As long as Aline stayed on the other side of the world, Debbie knew she could stand it.

She stood and looked back at the photo of them on the Hawaiian cruise - a moment frozen in time. When she had found another man, one who satisfied her in bed and was a good guy and one who loved her – not as much as Bill but nobody would ever love her like that again – she would still have that photo to look at and remember what they had had.

"Ms. Bascomb? Mr. August called and reminded you about that staff meeting. It's due to start in five minutes."

"Tell him I'll be there in just a minute, Helen."

She placed the insurance papers in her top drawer. She'd think about them later. Now it was time to turn her attention to business, to being the best administrator she could be. Johnny August had given her a second chance and she intended to prove to him that she deserved it.

She was walking past Helen when the older woman coughed and said, "Ms. Bascomb...."

"Yes?"

The older woman gave her a sympathetic look and pointed toward her. At first Debbie thought she might have left a button undone or her slip was showing. But she followed Helen's gaze and reached up with her forefinger to find her cheeks wet.

"Thanks," she said, stepping back into her office. She wiped her face with tissues, checked herself out in a compact mirror and made sure the tears were gone. A tough administrator couldn't walk around crying.

She gave the photo of them one last look. Their story had ended. Now it was time to move on. Although....

"I could get him back....if I wanted him. I could."

Then she stepped through the door into her new life.

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NOTE TO READERS:

First the important stuff. This is the last installment of "When We Were Married" that will run in Literotica, or at least, the last one in a while. This is not the end of Bill and Debbie's story, but I think it's a good stopping point. "Torch the Bitch" readers can believe that Bill is done with Debbie and maybe she'll come down with cancer or some other terrible punishment. Reconciliation fans, romantics, can hold out hope that there are still smoldering fires in both of these characters and separation doesn't mean forever, necessarily. There's a part of me that almost feels it would be appropriate to end things here. But...

This isn't the end. I'm going to be finishing the story, and there are still some important developments left to explore.

I'll writing the rest of the novel off site for personal reasons, not least of which is that it has released me from the psychological pressure of meeting a deadline which has increasingly gotten away from me because of changes in my life over the last six months or so. Now the only pressure I'll face is internal.

When I finish the story, which will be in a triology format, I will definitely inform anyone who's interested via LITEROTICA on where the full trilogy can be found.

Some people have wondered about my penchant for weaving other stories into the main story line of WWWM. Again, this is all contingent on my having the time to do these, but Paul and Paula Donnally will be the main characters in their own novel, "Paul and Paula." I actually started their story before WWWM and I knew they would wind up in the legal system, but at the time I had them involved with a no-name prosecutor. As WWWM grew, I knew they would fit into Maitland's story very well.

I know a lot of readers thought that Paul Donnally was a rather unbelievable character and I'm sure a lot will feel that way about Paula, but I like both characters and their story starts before they run into Maitland and goes a long way after their encounter with him. Their account in WWWM is a small slice of their lives.

Clint Abbott's trip to Africa will be detailed in a novel titled "The Saint of the Flowers,"although he will be only a minor character in this story. Clint is actually the only link between Northeast Florida and this tale of love lost and regained in Europe and Africa over a ten year period. But I thought his part in the story helped keep it in my fictional continuity.

And Bobby Kelso, the New York Money Man, will be the star of his own story. Like the Donnally's, his story begins before his encounter with Maitland and goes a long way afterwards. I like Kelso and the supporting characters in this one, the title of which will be "I Am Not A Monster."

Finally, regardless of whether readers liked or came to be bored by WWWM, I cannot give thanks enough to readers who responded both on site and in emails over the past year. I had pretty much given up a lot of old dreams over the past ten to fifteen years. Now at a time when I thought I'd be through writing new materials, recycling and trying to sell short stories and novels written over the past 30 years, I find myself writing more (fiction) than I've ever done in my life. I find myself excited about writing, and most days eager to get to the word processor. That is a priceless gift, and I thank everyone who has contacted me for helping me to regain my passion for writing.

DQS