A Promise Made, A Vow Broken

"So I can assume then that this morning's activity with Jackson was a calculated act done for the humiliation factor?" I asked.

"Not totally. He wanted to get one more time in before I became the faithful wife of my husband. He's willing to live by my rules."

We stopped at the in-laws' to pick up the kids. When we got there, it was like nothing had changed for Traci. Despite the fact that I got along great with Traci parents - Ron and Judy - I could barely face them. I felt like they somehow knew that Traci had cuckolded me, and I felt ashamed and humiliated. I wanted to scream out the truth about their daughter, but knew this wasn't the time or place.

Traci had a bemused look on her face the whole time we were there. She was definitely enjoying my discomfort, and having the upper hand. This was definitely the wrong way to go about making amends, I thought to myself.

Traci got into bed after I did at the end of the night. I was facing away from her, and she climbed in and spooned behind me. I then felt her hand reach around and grab my dick. After she worked me up and down twice, I turned around to face her, and slowly shook my head no.

"Not happening tonight," I said. "There's not a damn thing you can do that's going to get me up for you. You'll just have to be satisfied with what asshole gave you last night and this morning."

For the first time since Saturday night, Traci showed weakness. She looked hurt ... and shocked at my refusal of her advances for one of the very few times in our lives together.

"But don't you want to reclaim my pussy as your own? Jackson says it's almost like an automatic response for men in situations like this."

"Oh did he now? So not only is he a real estate genius but he's also a sex therapist as well? Well, then he should have warned you that some men don't take what you did as a sexual challenge. Some of us take it as a complete betrayal, and throwing up might fit the bill more than a fuck!"

Traci's eyes opened wider than they already were. Never in our 17 years together had I ever talked to her this way, and I had never cursed at her before. She had removed her hand from around my penis, so I rolled over and pretended to go to sleep. I heard her quietly crying. I didn't care.

I got an appointment with a reputable divorce attorney for the next week. The meeting did not go well, to say the least. Marcus Rothstein had to explain to me twice that my options were indeed limited to basically giving up half my shit and my kids, or waiting it out for the sake of the kids and then giving up half of my shit if we divorced once they were of age.

We all know parents who live their lives through their kids, then when the kids leave home, the parents really don't have anything in common anymore and get divorced. That was basically the scenario that my attorney laid out for me: be a super-parent for the next six years, then divorce Traci as soon as the kids were not an issue. At least in my case, I didn't have to worry about Traci running around, if she was telling me the truth about keeping her promise.

So that's what I did. If my kids were involved in an activity, I was usually the parent in charge, and I made sure that Traci was involved as well. Why should I be the only one to have to sit through a stamp club fund-raiser, or work on a 4-H woodworking project. We were the parents who everybody looks up to and shakes their heads about.

On the physical side, I didn't touch Traci sexually for six months, until she told me that she was going to have to start stepping out if I wasn't willing to do my husbandly duties. Since I was ready to bust a nut myself - literally - I was able to reason to myself that I could have sex with Traci the way she did with Jackson - just sex, nothing else. After all, she was still a beautiful woman. It's not like I was being forced to have sex with a troll.

It wasn't pretty, but our first night back in the saddle set the tone for what was going to happen the next few years. We had a date night to one of our favorite Italian places, and I plied Traci with two more glasses of wine than her usual. Since she hadn't had any sex for the last six months except with her favorite toy, she was a little more randy than normal, and when I suggested we turn in while the kids were watching a movie, she didn't even hesitate. We were like two horny teenagers as we stripped down. After 30 seconds of lip-locking each other, I pushed her back on the bed, and gently rubbed two fingers along her dripping pussy. And then she moaned ... not just any moan ... but the exact same moan we all heard at the lake cottage when she fucked Jackson Aloysius Fairchild that Sunday morning. Something clicked in my head at that moment, and rage became my best friend: without even another thought I drove my rock-hard prick into her in two tight strokes, and I know that had to hurt her because, honestly, it hurt me to do it. I spent the next 20 minutes pounding Traci's pussy like a man possessed, banging my dick into her cervix time after time as I hate-fucked her. About five minutes in she's yelling my name in a guttural tone, then she stiffened before having perhaps the biggest orgasm I've ever given her with my dick. I pushed hard all the way through it, grunting like a wild man, and she wound up having two more intense orgasms before I finally filled her with the most semen I've ever shot in her. We then lay coupled for about 10 more minutes before we disengaged.

"Where the hell did that come from?" she stage-whispered to me. "Holy shit, Bobby! Am I going to have to wait another six months for a repeat performance?"

I couldn't really answer that question, so I said nothing and spooned into her back.

I've got to admit that every time I thought about Traci with Jackson, I became enraged, and there was nothing tender in our lovemaking then. Hell, it wasn't even lovemaking then, it was pure fucking. She seemed to enjoy herself, though, and never complained, although we rarely cuddled afterwards and talked tenderly, like had been our pattern before "the incident."

Things seemed back to what I figured was going to be the new normal for us, but for one week every month, I had a private investigator follow her, just to see if she was keeping her word to me and not seeing Jackson - or anyone else for that matter. I spent a lot of money getting a little peace of mind.

Six years later, our youngest child, Terry, left for college at Michigan State. Melissa was a junior at Michigan, so when Terry made his decision, we had a small war among the kids for the entire summer before they both left for their respective schools. As Terry was just a freshman, he was staying on campus in a dorm, and Traci and I helped him move in a week before classes started. Neither Traci nor I remembered taking half the stuff with us that Terry did.

We took him up to Michigan State on a Thursday and stayed through almost the whole weekend, finally leaving for home late Sunday. Exactly 30 days later, on a Tuesday afternoon, I conference called both kids and quietly and calmly told them I was divorcing their mother because she cheated on me with another man several years before. They were both devastated.

"I thought you guys were so great together. How could this happen?" Melissa practically shouted into the phone.

"I always thought we were great together, too, but your mother cheated on me with Jackson Aloysius Fairchild six years ago when we were up there with several other couples for a Fourth of July weekend. She told me she was going to do it first so she wouldn't be sneaking around behind my back, and then told me she would remain faithful to me for the rest of our lives together. She didn't see it as cheating, but I did and I told her then that I wouldn't put up with it; there would be consequences if she went through with it. But apparently she and Jackson had been planning this, and she told me that if I left her, not only would she get half of our stuff, but she'd wind up getting both of you as well and she would turn you both against me. I couldn't lose you two as well, so I capitulated and just endured until you both came of age, and I was sure you would understand."

Terry spoke up first.

"I'll be damned!" he exclaimed. "Did she give you any kind of reason for pulling this shit?"

"Other than he just wanting to have sex with a man she considered hot, not really. She just figured I would cave in so I wouldn't lose you two, and to a point she was right."

"Is she still screwing around, Dad?" Melissa asked.

"Not as far as I can tell, Baby," I answered. "I've had a PI following her for one week a month since then, and as far as he can tell, she's kept her promise and not screwed around."

"Then why can't you forgive her, Dad?" Terry asked tentatively. "You've been married for what, 22 years, and she's only done it the once."

"Once was more than enough, Terry," I said, trying to hold my building rage in check. "What kind of love did she have for me when she spent the night in another man's bed? What kind of respect did she show me when she had sex with him the next morning while we could all hear the two of them going at it?

"I'm sorry, kids. I don't have it in my heart to forgive her. I stayed with her to keep the family together. I love you guys."

"Thanks, Dad. We really appreciate you holding it together for us." Melissa answered.

"Does she already know?" Terry asked.

"She will know in just a few minutes. She's being served at 4 at her office."

"Oh, Dad, bad move," Melissa said. "In front of her boss and co-workers; she'll be crushed ... and humiliated. Don't do this to her, Dad."

"Too late, Baby. Besides, I planned it this way on purpose. Her boss and his wife were among the other people up at the lake house when this went down ... and if you don't think I was already humiliated enough, imagine how I felt when your mother started to moan while having sex with Jackson the next morning. I wanted to shrivel up and die. So, no, I completely want her to feel the sting of humiliation."

"While I don't agree with this, Dad, I guess I understand it," Melissa answered back.

"I'm onboard, Dad. I've got your back completely," Terry chimed in.

My cell rang at 4:07.

"Yes?' I answered.

"I'm on my way home now, you bastard, and when I get there I'm going to kick your balls all the way to next week," Traci shrieked into the phone.

"My money was on contrite and tearful. Just goes to show you what I know." I answered back before ending the call.

I sat in the family room watching ESPN until I heard the garage door go up and Traci's car pull in. I shut off the TV and stood up: if she was going to attack me, I wanted to be in a position to defend myself. I had never hit a woman to that point, but I was going to if I had to.

Like usual, Traci came in through the utility room, and she looked to be on fire. She marched right up to me until I turned slightly to my right so she couldn't kick me in the balls with her right foot, which was her dominant side. It's an old fighter's trick. I also raised both my hands in a defensive posture. At that point, Traci stopped, looked me up and down like she was trying to figure out a way to hit me, then crumbled onto the sofa in tears.

"I thought we were good. I thought we were good," she muttered. "You never said anything in all these years about divorcing me."

"You were good so you assumed we were good," I said calmly.

"But I kept my promise to you. I haven't slept with anyone since Jackson at the lake. And I wasn't going to sleep with anyone else ever again."

"You did keep your promise. But 16 years before that you made me a vow, which you just tossed in the garbage can that night. I told you then not to do it, but you were going to do it anyway, and threatened me with taking away my kids. I couldn't let you do that."

"And you had me served at the gallery, in front of Lou and all of my co-workers? Could you get any more cruel?" she rasped.

"I felt having Lou there just completed the circle you started at the lake house six years ago. And as far as cruel ... your Sunday morning fucking with all of us in the house was the single most humiliating moment of my life. You bet I was getting my revenge!"

Traci continued sobbing, but I could see the seed of recognition on her face.

"You told me six years ago you thought it was worth it to fuck Jackson Aloysius Fairchild. That it was wonderful. Still feel that way now?"

"But I've kept my promise to you. I've been completely faithful since then, over six years," she whined.

"So what's the over-under on a promise from you?" I replied quickly. "If your vow was only good for 16 years, is your promise good for half that, say eight years?"

"Bobby, I am truly sorry if that one incident leads to us getting a divorce, but I told you about it. I didn't cheat."

"Yes, you did," I insisted. "Just because you told me about it beforehand instead of sneaking around behind my back doesn't make it right. We didn't discuss it ... you and he did. We didn't agree to that ... you and he did. And then you broke your vow to me. You're sorry about the divorce it's causing, but you're not sorry about the act. You've never been sorry about the act. I didn't give you a hall pass. We didn't come to some sort of agreement that you could have a hall pass. You just gave yourself one, and figured I'd accept your dumbass decision.

"You ripped my heart out that weekend, Traci, and on the ride home you told me it was my problem, and I had to get over it or you'd take my kids away. Does that sound like love to you, because it sure doesn't to me."

She just looked at me stunned.

Traci got herself a good lawyer, and he convinced a judge that we needed couples counseling. At the very first session, the counselor, a good-looking young woman of about 30, asked me why I thought I couldn't get past Traci cheating on me just one time, especially since she didn't go behind my back and sleep with Jackson. I looked at her like she had two heads, then I asked her if she had ever been married, not seeing any rings on her left hand.

"My marital status has nothing to do with your answer, Mr. Sprague, " she said, more than a little defensively.

"Wrong answer exactly," I said as I got up to leave. The two women sat there motionless as I left.

I got a phone call later that night from Ron and Judy, Traci's parents. I dearly loved Traci's parents. My own parents had both died several years ago, and I had gotten even closer to Ron and Judy after their death. They returned my love heartily, but I knew they had to side with their daughter on this. It's just what a parent does.

I hadn't talked to them since Traci was served several weeks back. They were both on the line, on speaker. Judy started the conversation after the pleasantries.

"Bobby, why do you have to be such a hardass about this," she said. "You know Traci loves you with all of her heart. You know she's kept her promise to you about never having sex with anyone else ever again. Why do you have to be so intractable?"

"What exactly did she tell you guys about that weekend?" I asked.

"Well, dear, she told us that you two talked about her having sex with some guy for one night, and then she promised she would be faithful to you forever after. She told us that she told you instead of sneaking around behind your back, like she could have, because she really loves you and doesn't want to lose you."

"That's about half the story, Mom. You two sitting down?"

"Say what you need to say, Bobby. We're sitting," her father answered curtly.

"We didn't talk about her having sex with Jackson Aloysius Fairchild. She and Jackson talked. I was told. I was told that I had no say in the matter, it was going to happen, and if I wanted to make waves that she would get the kids and turn them against me. I warned her not to do it, but that didn't make one damn bit of difference. So they had their fun that night, and just to make sure, they had some fun one more time that morning, with the rest of us sitting in the living room to start, until your daughter got too loud, so we moved out to the back yard. I've never been so humiliated in my life, until the ride home when Traci told me how wonderful the sex had been.

"Does that sound like a loving wife? Does that sound like someone who really gives a shit about her husband? Not to me it doesn't!"

"But you stayed with her for six more years?" her father asked.

"No, I stayed with my children for six more years, and after a while I even went back to fucking your slut of a daughter. But the love ... the love started dying that night, and has continued to die a little more each day. I will never love her like I once did ..."

I heard Judy crying.

"We're sorry, son, we didn't know the full story," Ron said. "We should have realized it had to be worse for you to just walk away. Thanks for staying all those years for the kids."

With Traci and her lawyer trying everything they could to stall things, the divorce took about a year. I don't know, maybe Traci figured I would lose my will to fight and just stay married. She should have known that wasn't going to happen.

Although I didn't realize it at the time, my being an involved parent as my kids grew up really kept my standing high in social circles, and also gave me a look into the personal lives of some of the other parents. I got to know a lot more divorcees in my age group than I would have normally, and I used that knowledge to my benefit when my divorce finally became official. I took day trips or hit a restaurant and dance club on the weekends and almost always had an entertaining companion. Many were the divorced mothers of my kids' friends, and others were the friends of friends. I guess the old saying that it's out there if someone wanted to look for it was right; I was actually having more sex and with more partners than I had before I was married.

Life wasn't bad if I ignored the hole in my heart that Traci put there.

I had moved into a 3-bedroom condo after the divorce because I wanted to have room for my kids to stay with me if and when they wanted. I know they were pissed at Traci initially after the divorce, but I figured they'd eventually get over that and maybe split time between the two of us until they moved out permanently. For their sake, I had hoped they and Traci would come to some sort of an agreement, but I wasn't going to be the one to broker that deal. Traci did all three of us wrong, and I wasn't going to try to smooth her way back into the kids' lives.

While it didn't surprise me that both kids chose to live with me during their breaks from college, what did surprise me was how quickly Traci's parents came back into the fold. I hadn't heard from them much during the proceedings - which I totally understood - but about two months after the divorce became official, I got a phone call from Judy asking me if I could meet her and Ron for dinner at Maggiano's, a nice Italian restaurant in our city. Considering how well we got along prior to the divorce, I couldn't see any reason not to go, and the three of us had a great evening out.

The evening started out uncomfortably as both Ron and Judy apologized for both Traci's behavior and for any animosity that might have built up because they supported her - at least until they found out the rest of the story, so to speak. I told them the apologies were accepted, and I understood about them supporting their daughter. I then asked them if we could change the subject, and the evening got better from that point on, despite the occasional comment and tears over what might have been.

Getting Ron and Judy back into my life gave me a better sense of normalcy, and I think they enjoyed my company as much as I valued theirs. We rarely talked about Traci, except maybe when we were reminiscing about some event or other from the past. We were probably getting together a couple of times a month while the kids were at school, and when they got home, we were together even more.