An Alternate View

Our second date started out a bit better than the first. We managed to make some conversation about what we had been doing since the divorce.

While it was somewhat my own fault for cutting myself off from people, it still rankled that Connie had more of a life, that in my mind, Tom and Mary had taken her side. I know, I know, they said that they weren't taking sides, but she cheated on me and they respected her wishes, and worked to try to get us back together, ignoring my wishes to have nothing to do with her. Finally, there was the party where they conspired, and that is the right word, despite Tom's protestations, with Connie to force us together.

Then, we came to my renewed dating that triggered Connie's newfound repentance.

"I have to say," Connie said, "when we came into that club and saw the way you were dancing with that..."

I shot her a stern look.

"With that woman, I just wanted to find a dark corner and curl up into a ball."

I couldn't help it, I smirked.

"What's with that look?" she said.

"We... well, Gail, actually, set you up."

"Set me up? What do you mean?"

"When I saw you come in, Gail asked me who you were. When I told her, she decided to put on a show for you."

Connie was speechless for a moment, then lit into me.

"I don't believe it! You two acted like a couple of sluts just to embarrass me?"

She threw her napkin down and stormed out of the restaurant. I was momentarily stunned, then shrugged and asked for the check. By the time I got outside, Connie was getting into a cab and taking off.

I went home, had a couple of beers, went to bed and didn't give it much more thought.

The next day, I was awakened by Tom pounding on my door. As soon as I opened it, he came charging in, brushing me aside.

"You know, you really are an asshole," he said.

"Nice to see you, too, Tom," I said, "What did I do now?"

"You know what you did! How could you do that to Connie?"

"You mean tell the truth? I realize that's a unique concept for you, but one I happen to believe in."

"Arggh, you're impossible," he said, and walked out.

Maybe I'm just an insensitive ass, but I didn't call Connie for a couple of days, in fact, she was the one who called me.

"Hello, Connie," I said, reading the caller ID.

"Hi, Henry, do you have a few minutes to get together with me?"

"Sure, Dunkies on Main St. in fifteen?"

"Okay."

She was already sitting at a table with her coffee, so I got my usual and joined her.

"All right, Connie, you wanted to talk."

"I was obviously upset when you told me about how you deliberately embarrassed me at the club."

"Yes," I said with a smile, "You were quite obvious."

"You don't have to be such a smart ass about it, and it took me a few days to calm down after that. Once I calmed down, I realized that that night in the club was the beginning of my understanding of what I had done to you, and opened the door for my honest attempt to win you back.

"I'm still pissed that you did it, but I think I understand it; maybe I even deserved it."

"So, where does that leave us?" I asked.

"Well, I'd like to start over again. I know I still have a long way to go to regain your trust, and I'm going to have to, somehow, let go of the hurt that I have felt these past few months.

"I know, despite my actions with Mark, that I love you with all my heart; and you must have at least some love for me or we wouldn't even be here. All I ask is a chance."

"I think I have already shown that I'm willing to do that, but we still have the trust issue."

"Let me try this," she said. "What if we had never been married, and had been dating for a while and getting serious. Then you found out that I was divorced because I had cheated on my husband. Could you put that aside and judge me by my actions now, or would you say, 'Once a cheater, always a cheater,' and dump me?"

I had to lean back and think on that one. I honestly had never thought of it that way. Was my resistance to Connie because she was a "cheater," or because she had cheated on me? Did it really matter?

One thing I knew was that I was in love with Connie. The two years we were apart were the worst years of my life, even the last few months when I came out of my shell.

I made a conscious decision that I was going to make a real effort to put our past in the past, to live in the now.

I won't say it was easy. I kept seeing other women and it took a little pushing, but Connie dated others as well.

Once in a while, one or the other of us would snap at the other, but we gradually stopped dating others, and without stating it explicitly, we became exclusive.

A few months after our talk, I was beginning to feel more comfortable in our relationship, so when we went into Connie's apartment for some coffee I asked her to sit with me on the couch.

"Connie," I said, "we need to talk."

As a look of fear came over her face, I reached over and patted her hand reassuringly.

"No, no, Connie, it's nothing like that."

"Then what is it, Henry?"

"I know your lease is up at the end of the month, and I was thinking that maybe you might want to move in with me."

After she recovered from her shock, she nearly knocked me onto the floor, launching herself into my arms.

"Of course I would, Henry," she said, sobbing, "You must know that this is all that I've wished for since the divorce."

"Easy, easy," I said, gently pushing her off me, "this doesn't mean that we are all the way back, but I do think that we have made real progress and we're ready for this next step."

"I understand, Henry, and I promise I won't let you down."

"I don't mean to be snarky, Connie, but making promises is easy, it's keeping them that can be an issue."

She looked down with her shoulders slumped, nodding sadly.

I pulled her close, stroking her hair.

"Go pack what you'll need for a few days," I said, "We have plenty of time to get the rest."

She was off like a shot and came back dragging two suitcases. I took them from her, tossed them into my trunk and she followed me back to my place.

I brought the suitcases in and put on coffee, as Connie came in and hung up her coat. We each took a cup of coffee and sat together on the couch.

"Connie," I said, "we've obviously made a lot of progress, but we still have a long way to go."

She nodded sadly. I think she was hoping for more.

"One thing I need you to be 100% clear on, is that from this moment on, we are exclusive."

She started to interrupt, but I waved her off.

"I know what you're going to say, that we have been exclusive, but that's been a de facto situation, we haven't said it out loud to each other, that we will not be seeing anyone else. I'm willing to make that commitment to you. Can you do the same?"

"Yes, I will," she said, "That's what I have been begging for."

"You missed my meaning. I didn't ask if you 'will,' but if you 'can.' My job hasn't changed; I will still be traveling frequently, sometimes for days at a time. You blamed your cheating on being lonely and bored when I traveled, and that's not going away. You're going to have to find something to occupy your spare time, maybe a class."

"Sometimes I want to go out and have some fun!" she cried.

"I hate to say it, but go out with Tom and Mary, they can watch out for you."

"You mean 'spy on me,' or 'baby sit me'," she said angrily.

"Call it what you want," I said, "but my distrust has set down some deep roots; it's not going to be uprooted overnight."

Connie chewed on her lower lip, lost in thought.

"I can't say that I like it, but I understand it, and if that's the price for a chance to win you back completely, I agree."

Connie did sign up for a pottery class, and discovered that she had some talent for it, giving several of her pieces to friends and relatives for birthday and wedding gifts, even selling some at craft shows.

For my part, if I didn't get home too late, no matter how much I wanted to just flake out and decompress, I would take her out, at least for dinner. If I couldn't do it that night, we would go out the next night.

Tom and Mary were slowly re-integrating into our lives. I was very resistant, I was still angry at the way they meddled in my life.

I had to admire Connie's courage. Knowing that she was risking my wrath she kept after me to talk to Tom.

"Henry," she said, "Tom's your oldest friend in the world..."

"I know," I said, "That's what makes me so angry! He should have had my back more."

"He honestly thought he was doing the right thing. Look, Henry, you've been able to forgive me, why can't you forgive Tom?"

I just sat there, trying to come up with a good answer.

"I don't expect you to be best friends," she said. "That's probably hoping for too much; but can't you at least get along? Can't the four of us just get together once in a while?"

"I guess we can give it a try, but I'm not making any promises."

"I can live with that, Henry," she said. She gave me a very loving kiss and went off to do her thing.

As with Connie, things didn't change overnight. The first time we got together, I insisted that it be at Tom and Mary's house so that I could leave if things got too uncomfortable.

It was understandably awkward, and by some unspoken consent, we didn't talk about the circumstances that brought us to that point. We just tried to have a sociable evening.

Over time, we more or less regained the easy camaraderie we enjoyed before the divorce, but there was still an underlying tension between Tom and me.

Tom called me and invited me out for a couple of drinks. I was hesitant; this would be the first time it would just be the two of us, without Connie and Mary.

We arrived at the bar at the same time, got our drinks and sat down in a quiet booth. I waited for Tom to speak.

"Okay, Henry," he said, "this is going to seem a little awkward, so please bear with me and wait till I'm finished."

I nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"I still think I was right that you should have given Connie a second chance..."

I started to get up when he motioned for me to sit back down.

"Please, Henry, you promised to let me finish."

I sat back down, though with some ill grace.

"Where I was wrong," he continued, "was in not respecting your feelings. I gave you my opinion, you disagreed, and I should have left it at that. For that, and for the damage it has done to our friendship I'm truly sorry."

"Tom, I appreciate that; I realize how hard that had to be for you. I can't say that I don't still feel some anger over it, and I'm frankly doubtful that we'll fully regain what we had, but I'm ready to put it behind us and move forward from here.

We finished our drinks and stood up. He reached out his hand and I took it, he clasped me on the shoulder and walked out the door'

While I was glad we cleared the air, I was still sorry for what we had lost. Some things can never be fully repaired. I sighed and went home.

Connie seemed to sense my mood and gave me a big hug.

"How did it go?" she asked.

"About as well as could be expected," I said. "I think we'll be okay."

True enough, things were a little more relaxed. Tom and I even got together on our own occasionally, but it was never the same as it used to be.

Finally, about a year from the day she showed up at my door, I decided that I had to shit or get off the pot. We had settled into a comfortable routine, and I honestly didn't even feel the slightest hint that she wasn't 100% faithful.

I decided that I wasn't going to go for the big romantic gesture, but I did take her out for a night of dinner at one of our favorite restaurants and dancing at a high-class club.

Even though we had danced together hundreds of times, somehow, that night was special; her body seemed to just melt into mine in a way unlike any that I could remember.

I don't know if she could read my mood or if she was just feeling the same vibrations I was, but during one especially romantic number, she looked up at me lovingly.

"Take me home, Henry."

I can barely remember the ride home, though I can still feel her hand gripping mine and smell the combined scents of her perfume and her arousal.

As soon as we closed the front door, Connie dropped to her knees, yanked down my pants and underwear, freeing my rigid cock and taking it into her mouth in one move. I knew I wasn't going to last long and I didn't, very quickly shooting my load down her throat.

Before I could recover, she had removed my shoes and socks and finished taking off my pants and underwear. She stood up, grabbed my hand and pulled me towards the bedroom as I removed by jacket, shirt and tie.

When we got into the bedroom, I nearly ripped her dress off, and pushed her down on the bed. Getting on my knees, I pulled off her thong and gave my best impression of a lesbian as I ate her to two thrashing orgasms.

By this time, my cock was restored to hardness, so I swung her legs up onto the bed, climbed between them and made slow gentle love to her.

After we each came, I rolled off her and pulled her over to me, her head resting on my chest.

As the afterglow of our lovemaking faded, I could sense that Connie was dozing lightly, and pulled a special item out of my nightstand drawer.

I gently kissed the top of her head until she started stirring.

"Wh... what's going on?" she asked, "I was having the most wonderful dream."

"It wasn't a dream, Honey," I said, "but it's hopefully going to be getting a lot better."

I brought my hand around and opened it in front of her, revealing a diamond ring.

"Henry, if this is some sort of a joke I'm going to kill you! Does this mean what I think it means?"

"If you think it means that I want you to be my wife again, then yes."

I was afraid that the neighbors were going to call the cops when she started screaming until I calmed her down; then I had to stop her as she reached for the phone.

"What are you doing?" I asked.

"I've got to call Mary and give her the good news!"

"Connie, it's 2:00 AM; they're probably sound asleep. We'll have them over for breakfast, you can tell her then."

She grudgingly agreed and we cuddled up and went to sleep.

I got up early, cleaned up and got things ready for breakfast. As soon as I felt it was late enough, I called and invited them over for breakfast.

"What's going on, Henry?" Tom asked sleepily.

"You'll find out when you get here."

I ignored the four or five times they called before they gave up, then went to wake up Connie.

While she was in the shower, I put on the coffee, then went to tell her to make sure she was decent when she came down, as Tom and Mary were coming over.

I was just sitting down with my first cup as Connie came into the kitchen and there was a knock on the door. I got up to let in a very confused Tom and Mary.

As they all got their coffee, I took breakfast orders while Tom and Mary peppered us with questions.

It took about five minutes of Connie waving her left hand practically in Mary's face before she noticed the ring. She jumped up and she and Connie were hugging and bouncing and making that joyful squeal women make that attracts every dog in the neighborhood.

Tom just looked at me and smiled.

"It took you long enough," he said as I snapped a dishtowel at him. "When's the big day?"

"We haven't got that far; I'm sure they'll tell me soon enough."

Sure enough, Connie and Mary spent the rest of the day planning. For some reason, Connie decided that she wanted to use the same date as our first marriage. Does that mean good luck or bad luck? Who knows, but then again, who ever really knows?

Will we make it this time? I certainly hope so, and I know we're both going to give it our best shot.

Postscript

For those who don't know, this is based on BigGuy33's "A Beautiful View." While I enjoyed the story, I was disappointed in what I felt was a too easy reconciliation.

With his permission, I wrote a continuation, "A Beautiful View Redux," showing the failure of that reconciliation.

Recently I was thinking about the story, and how my problem wasn't so much the reconciliation as it was the ease of it. Strictly as a writing exercise, I set myself the challenge of writing a version where I felt the reconciliation was more merited.

I showed my early versions to some friends who thought it had some merit, so I once again sought BigGuy33's permission, and the result is what you have just read.