Battle For Her Soul

In just two weeks, Roman had photos and video from four trysts. The investigator was able to determine that Sylvie and Grant had been intimate for several months, maybe going back all the way to their trip to Denver eight months ago.

"Fuck! I love the bitch. I thought she loved me as well!" Roman sniped when the investigator showed him what he collected.

Sylvie was still leaking Grant's cum into her panties when she pulled her car into the garage later that afternoon. She winced when the rising door showed Roman's pick-up was already inside. Roman rarely got home before his wife. She quickly wondered if he was ill. She would have to check on him before heading off to take a shower.

"Babe, are you okay?" she called out when she stepped into the house.

Receiving no answer, Sylvie was about to head upstairs to see if Roman was asleep in their bedroom, when she caught sight of her husband sitting quietly in the formal living room. Roman rarely sat in the room unless there was company in the house, so the sight of him quietly sipping something from a shot glass was more than a little unnerving. When she saw the liquor bottle was sitting directly on the good wood of the cherry drum table without a coaster under it, she started to come unglued.

"Damn, Roman, that's an expensive table. You're going to ruin..."

"I figured since you ruined the marriage, the least I could do was ruin some furniture," Roman interrupted in a voice that was barely above a whisper, yet had the bite of a whip. "I know, it's not a very proportional response, but then, what can you expect from a little man?"

Sylvie's mouth dropped open and she tried to speak, but her voice failed her and she just mumbled several unintelligible syllables.

"Go on, wife, this is the part where you're supposed to say it is just sex and doesn't mean anything," he rasped.

Sylvie sank into the chair opposite Roman. Her training as a paralegal should have served her well in making a quick response, but her brain was suddenly an empty vessel. Tears quickly came to her eyes and ran down her cheeks.

"No! You don't get to do that crying shit!" Roman blurted out. "You don't get to pull on my heart strings with your tears. You cheated! You played the whore for that smarmy bastard!"

Just as quickly as he started to speak, Roman suddenly stopped. He emptied his shot glass and slowly poured himself another.

"I didn't mean for this to happen," Sylvie finally whispered. "I didn't seek him out..."

"But you apparently didn't stop him when he came for you," Roman said.

Sylvie's mind went into overdrive. Although she had never expected to get caught, she long ago had concocted several scenarios of what would happen if she did. She reviewed them quickly and discarded them just as quickly. She didn't know how much her husband knew and therefore needed to say as little as possible to keep the lies to a minimum. She suddenly realized that neither of them had said anything for several minutes.

"I don't love him, Rome," she finally said. "He's just tall, dashing, charming and..."

Good sense pulled her up short and she stopped speaking before she told her husband what a wonderful lover Grant was. She wondered if Roman could tell what she was about to say as his eyes lasered into hers.

"I saw you kiss him at the Christmas party. I knew then something was going on. It took every ounce of restraint not to kill you both right there.

"How long, Syl?" he asked.

Sylvie's face got pale when Roman told her about the Christmas party.

"The first time was on our Denver trip. You know, the one Grant told you about after the concert. He was so smug that night, practically telling you. That was both scary and exciting to me. He just kind of took me. That's the kind of man he is. He takes what he wants. He wanted me, and I wanted him.

"We've... gotten together every week since then."

"Gotten together... how quaint. You've been fucking him every week for nine months! Just say it! Too late to hide it now!" Roman yelled.

Sylvie visibly flinched at Roman's outburst. He caught the movement, and willed himself to calm down. He took another sip of his bourbon.

"Why didn't you show me at least a little respect and ask me for a divorce first instead of cheating on me, Syl?" Roman said. "I'm not an unreasonable man."

Sylvie's eyes got wide when Roman mentioned divorce. Despite everything that had occurred, Sylvie had never once considered that possibility. She didn't want a divorce, and she was absolutely certain that her husband loved her too much to consider that a real possibility. She knew it might take some time... and a lot of groveling by her for the relationship to heal, but divorce certainly wasn't in the cards. Just maybe, she thought quickly, she could even go back to Grant once the dust died down... and they would not make the same mistakes twice.

"I-I don't love him. I just can't resist him," Sylvie practically breathed out in a rush. "He's forceful. He's got presence. He's dynamic. He just takes what he wants, and I love it when I'm what he wants. But that's all about lust. None of it has to do with love, love like you and I share."

"Shared, babe. Past tense," Roman said.

"Rome, please," she cried. "We love each other. Surely we can work on putting us back together."

Sylvie was served divorce papers a week later after she and Grant got back from a long lunch. She was feeling sexy and languid when she was called to the office reception desk, but her mood quickly changed.

"Oh my God! He did it," Sylvie muttered under her breath, but loud enough to be heard by her firm's receptionist.

The receptionist smirked knowingly as Sylvie scampered back to her office. Sylvie's affair with Grant wasn't exactly a secret in the office, despite what the pair thought. The receptionist quickly sent a text to someone.

Roman was notified of the service Friday at 2:54. Sylvie's first phone call rang in at 2:57. He ignored the call. He also ignored the next four calls from Sylvie's phone before she switched to calling from her office phone. He ignored those as well.

Sylvie left her office about an hour later, after spending most of that time crying. She was surprised to see Roman already at the house when she got home. She sighed heavily. She was hoping to have more time before facing the Spanish Inquisition that she knew was coming.

"How could you?" she said quietly to Roman when she walked into the house. "I work with those people. You just held me up to public ridicule."

"Like you didn't hold me up to public ridicule with your affair for the last nine months, slut!" he yelled back with venom. "I thought you loved me."

Sylvie recoiled when Roman yelled. Until recently, her husband rarely raised his voice to her, usually just quietly acquiescing to her on the rare occasions when they were at loggerheads. She often took his reluctance to engage as a lack of intelligence, when perhaps she should have seen it as a sign of reflection and love.

"There no longer is an us," Roman said to a tearful Sylvie. "You trashed our wedding vows, you broke my trust and disrespected me. How can you say you still love me, when all evidence points to the opposite."

"I'm sorry, Rome. I know it sounds trite, but I really do love you. Only you. And believe me, I'm sorry for hurting you," Sylvie cried.

"But unless I'm missing something, you're not sorry for the affair. Are you, babe?"

Sylvie continued sobbing, but remained silent. That was more than enough answer for Roman.

Roman moved out of the house he and Sylvie shared and into a near-by apartment that night. Sylvie was distraught, and called the only person she could think of at that moment. Fifteen minutes later, Grant Schwartzman showed up in the driveway. Roman, watching from his car down the street, said several loud curses and drove off.

Grant was a skilled ladies' man. He comforted Sylvie and held her while she cried. For one of the few times, he never said a cross word about her husband. He said the right words in the right tone. He made no effort to get the woman into bed. After she cried herself out, Grant cuddled her on the sofa until she fell asleep in his arms. He knew his actions on this night would pay dividends in the future.

Although she didn't want a divorce from Roman, Sylvie continued to have sex with Grant once or twice each week. She never saw the contradiction... because she didn't want to see it. She continued to think that her affair with Grant was separate from her marriage to Roman. She refused to sign the divorce papers.

For some reason that she didn't quite understand, Sylvie realized that sex with Grant wasn't quite as thrilling as it was before Roman found out. Grant felt the same, assuming that Sylvie was just too caught up in the divorce to let it hang out in the bedroom. He felt the passion would return soon after the divorce was finalized, and he started to ramp up his verbal attacks on Roman.

Greg Gallagher was considered a good boss by most of his employees. Roman considered him almost like a second father. When he needed an answer about real life, the question went to his boss.

Greg felt bad for his employee and friend and had given him the name of the attorney he used for his divorce. Actually, he gave him the name of the attorney his ex-wife used, because he felt his ex wound up with more than she deserved, thanks to her attorney.

The two were sitting in Greg's office an hour after closing, each with a beer in front of them. Greg was providing helpful advice and an ear for listening.

"Just don't do anything stupid, Rome. I don't want to have to bail you out of jail," Greg said.

"But I still need to get my pound of flesh, Greg," Roman said. "She fucked me, and both of them need to pay a price. I promise I won't do anything stupid, but I'm definitely not going to make this easy on her. Roman the nice guy died a couple of weeks ago along with my marriage."

Sylvie assumed Roman was calling off the divorce three weeks later when he moved back into the house and, in fact, back into the pair's bedroom.

"Up to you, Sylvie," Roman said. "You need to make your choice. It's either him or me. You can't have both of us."

"I love you, Rome, not him, but... he really does it for me. Can't I keep him, too? I mean just for sex sometimes?" she asked.

"I don't work that way, Syl. You of all people should know that. I will give you two weeks to end it with him."

Sylvie went right to the deadline before she acquiesced to her husband. She had sex with Grant four more times in those two weeks. Roman's PI kept him informed of her actions.

"So you called your attorney and got the divorce stopped?" Sylvie asked Roman while the two lay side-by-side after having outstanding sex a couple of weeks later.

"Oh yeah. I need to do that," Roman said off-handedly. "Glad you reminded me."

He leaned forward and kissed his wife hard on the lips, snaking his tongue deeply into her mouth. She returned the kiss fervently, her last thought suddenly forgotten.

The pair had been having sex almost daily since Roman moved back home. Sylvie took the increased sex as a good sign. For his part, Roman figured he was going to get as much of Sylvie's pussy as he could, knowing he was taking it away from Grant.

Several weeks later, Greg called Roman at home in the evening. Sylvie could only hear Roman's side of the conversation, but by watching Roman's face she could determine that he wasn't necessarily happy with what was happening. When he hung up the phone, he explained to his wife that due to a death in the family, Greg wouldn't be able to attend a landscaping seminar in Lansing, MI, but since it was prepaid, he wanted Roman to go in his place. Roman had reluctantly agreed.

Roman didn't feel one bit guilty about lying to Sylvie. The whole ruse was to get Sylvie's mind off the official "freedom" date for Roman and Sylvie's divorce. Instead of attending a landscaping seminar, Roman was going to be spending a week relaxing in Nags Head, NC. He would officially be a divorced man on Thursday of that week.

A rested and tanned Roman got home late Saturday afternoon. Sylvie was confused when she saw Roman's tan.

"Did you spend all your spare time in a tanning bed?" she asked.

"Didn't need to. The beach in Nags Head was great," he responded.

"Nags Head? As in North Carolina? I thought you were in Lansing, Michigan."

"The landscaping seminar was in Lansing, but I was in Nags Head, hanging out and drinking margaritas on the beach, celebrating our divorce. It became official Thursday, by the way," Roman said blandly.

"Wait. I thought you said you were going to stop that," a wide-eyed Sylvie responded.

"I guess I forgot... sort of the way you forgot your wedding vows," Roman said.

"But I love you. You love me. You came back to me. I dropped Grant for you," Sylvie whined.

"And there's the crux of the problem, my ex-wife. There shouldn't have been a Grant to drop," Roman said. "You disrespected me. You broke my trust. And of course, there was the breaking vows thing."

Sylvie started to sob unabashedly.

"I love you, Rome. Please. Things have been great for us since you moved back."

"No, the sex has been great since I moved back, Syl. You are a helluva fuck, and I was going to get as much of you as I could. But if you were paying attention, all we did was fuck. I haven't made love to you in forever. I wanted to get your hopes up so I could break your heart the way you did mine.

"Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go pack."

Two weeks later, Grant was pounding Sylvie doggy for all she was worth in her own bed. He smirked and slapped Sylvie's ass hard with his right hand. She was still a helluva fuck, although if he was honest with himself, it felt like she wasn't quite as into it as she used to be.

"Stupid bastard almost ruined the best piece of ass I'd ever had," Grant thought, smacking her ass with his left hand this time.

While Roman inflicted emotional pain on his ex-wife, he felt the lawyer needed some physical pain for seducing Sylvie... and for being a jag-off in general. Coincidentally, two nights later the lawyer was mugged as he was leaving the apartment of another conquest, one whose body was not quite as lush as Sylvie's, but who was still incredibly hot at 25 years old. One of his testicles was crushed in the scuffle with the mugger.

Police questioned Sylvie on the jealousy angle but felt they didn't have enough evidence to charge her. She immediately called Roman when she was released by the police.

"I know you did it, you piece of shit!" she wailed at him over the phone.

She didn't have to tell Roman who was calling, knowing he would recognize her voice instantly.

"Good afternoon, Syl," he answered. "Lovely day. Yes, I'm doing okay.

"Now I'm assuming there's some reason you called."

Roman could practically hear Sylvie's teeth grinding as he dispensed with the niceties. He knew exactly why she was calling, and was enjoying her discomfort.

"Until you pulled that bullshit with me, I never would have thought you were a vengeful bastard. I guess I didn't give you enough credit. You certainly showed me you could be an Alpha dickhead. But did you have to hurt him that badly?" she said.

"I have no idea what you are talking about, my dear," Roman said. "Who is it that I've supposedly hurt?"

Sylvie couldn't believe how calm Roman was. When had he become this devious? She realized she was starting to get turned on.

"When did you find out he was screwing our new staff intern? I didn't even know that, but I put two and two together when he was attacked outside of her apartment complex. That makes me look even more pathetic. That said, I guess maybe I should thank you," Sylvie remarked.

"Well, I'd say you're welcome if I knew what you were talking about," Roman replied.

"Okay, I get it. You can't say anything. But still, thank you. I know you still love me," Sylvie said.

Roman let the silence hang in the air for about five seconds.

"You can think whatever you want, Syl, but my love for you died a long time ago. I actually hated you for a while, too, but then I realized I was giving you too much power over me. Now I just feel indifferent."

"I'm so sorry, Rome. You will never know how sorry I am," she claimed.

"You're right, Syl, I will never know, because I just don't care."