Big Mouth Ch. 02

"I take it you didn't like Brian very much?" David asked me.

"He was an obnoxious ass who treated her like shit, but maybe she would have been better off to have stayed with him." I was now looking right back at Heather. "This way I wouldn't have wasted ten years of my life on a woman who never had the courage or decency to tell me the truth." I think Heather felt that one.

"So in other words she chose you over Brian?"

"Well, yes and no. Physically she chose me, but mentally it looks like she never got over him."

"What I hear you saying is that Heather emotionally cheated on you?" Ann interjected.

"I guess you could say that," I replied. Ann was continually making notes.

"Heather, it's time for you to tell your side of this."

"Ann, what's the point? I've talked until I'm blue in the face and Steve doesn't believe a thing I say."

"Well, appease an old woman and tell me." Heather looked at Steve and began her side of the story.

"What Steve heard is what I said, but he never heard what I said before he stuck his head through the kitchen door. He never heard me tell the girls what a great time we had on our anniversary and how I thank my stars every night I married him instead of that ass Brian. They told me I was blinded by love. I told them maybe I was but that as good as Steve is he wasn't perfect either. That was when one by one the wives started talking trash about their husbands. It seemed that everyone tried to outdo the other saying how lame their husbands could be at times. Then I opened my big mouth and the shit started flowing from it. Hell, I was joking around, trash talking, embellishing on everything they'd brought up about their husbands. When I saw Steve in the doorway, I thought he'd just gotten there and hadn't heard the crap I'd laid on the other wives. But he'd heard almost every word of it. The rest as they say is history."

"Heather, did you have any of the other wives try to explain to Steve that it was just girl talk?" Ann asked now looking at Steve.

"Tried. But he wasn't hearing what anyone else was saying at that point. When I tried to explain the toys he found, and at times I fantasized, he called me everything but a two dollar whore. After that it just went downhill."

"I see," David said, now turning towards me. "Steve, do you ever think about other women? Do you have any fantasies that you haven't told your wife about? You know, like a three way with her and another woman? Or how about seeing her screw another guy? Would that turn you on?"

"What are you fucking nuts? What normal guy would want his wife screwing some other guy? That's just sick!"

"Well, then, how often do you masturbate? A couple of times a week? And who else besides your wife do you think about?"

I was caught on that one. What normal guy doesn't do it? And it's just a feel good normal release, I never planned on actually doing what I was thinking about, I loved my wife.

"Maybe a couple of times a week, and I'd rather not say what I think about."

"So, Is it okay for you to fantasize, thinking about who knows what, but not your wife?"

"I didn't name my right hand Lucy or Sue, did I?"

"Nonetheless, you still do it," David again pointed out, looking at first me then Heather. "I wonder if the issue here is more of Steve being humiliated in front of your friends, rather than the thoughts that go through Heather's head during sex. We can explore that our next session. Our time is up for today."

Thank God, I was thinking to myself. I wanted out.

"For next Tuesday I want you to write a letter to each other. I want you to say why or why not you think the divorce is a good idea. We'll meet here Tuesday at six o'clock. I think we made some progress tonight."

I literally ran out of that office. In my car my heartbeat finally started to settle down. For the last fifteen minutes I felt like I'd been in an inquisition. I wasn't the person who started this, If Heather had kept her damn mouth shut we wouldn't be going through this.

It took me days to get my head and ass wired together. Looking around my meager room I started to get pissed all over again. I wanted my house back and my two children living with me. Let the bitch find someone else—please, just let me go back to being the great father I'd been. I started doing my homework assignment.

It took me three days to get it just right. The first day I put it down on paper, the second day I took out three quarters of the ugly things I'd written, and the third day I took out ten percent more, leaving in just enough to get my point across.

I picked up Amy and Robert on Sunday and spent some quality time with them. I had nothing at my place so we divided our time between the movie theater and the best pizza place in town. This time I saw Heather looking out the window when I dropped them off. I'm just glad she didn't come out to greet us.

I wasn't looking forward to Tuesday. We were supposed to meet twice a week, but David and Ann said we'd start that the third week after we got the initial problems worked out.

"Who wants to start?" Ann asked, looking at the two of us.

"Shit, might as well get it out of the way," Heather said, pulling a piece of paper out of her pocket. "I think Steve and I should go ahead with the divorce because he no longer trusts or loves me." She folded it back up and put it back in her pocket.

"Heather, that was short and to the point. Do you want to expand on it further?"

"Not really. Steve doesn't believe a word I say, and frankly I don't give a shit anymore. It's his loss and the he's only hurting himself and our two children.

'How so?" David asked.

"Amy and Robert miss him not being there. They'll eventually get over it, and after a while will realize what an ass their father was for breaking up our marriage. I hope they will hate him until he's dead and buried for it." She was looking me right in the eye. "Your turn dick head."

"Well, that will be a hard act to follow," I replied, getting out my letter. "Would you two mind if I have the bitch read it?" They looked at each other and then at Heather.

Reaching for the letter she snatched it out of my hand. "Hell, give me the damn letter, it was written to me, anyway."

"Dear Heather,

I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you the moment I met you. That look you gave me and your smile told me everything I needed to know.

Brian didn't deserve you and I knew if I played my cards right you'd be with me sooner or later. So, I schemed, planned, and connived to win you over and finally thought I had you, heart and soul. I loved you more than my own life. Your love gave me a reason to always push harder and do more than I thought I ever could. When you gave me Amy and then Robert I knew I was the luckiest man on earth. Life wasn't perfect, but I thought our marriage was. Some men look their entire life for their perfect mate, I was lucky to find mine the first time around."

Heather stopped for a minute and looked at me. A quick beat later she looked back at the letter and resumed reading.

"I thought we could talk about anything, I was wrong. I never knew you felt the way you did about me. I would have gladly given up a kidney, an arm, even a leg to have not been in the kitchen doorway that afternoon.

Your words shredded my heart and left an empty shell of a man who minutes before didn't have a care in the world. It would have been more merciful if you'd taken a lover and cheated on me, then I could hate you for something you'd actually done. But you didn't physically do anything, that is the problem. If I'd known, maybe together we could have done something, anything, but you never indicated to me your wants or desires weren't being met. Foolishly I believed I was your soul mate. Maybe I was at first, no longer now.

I just want my children and life back. It's my belief that one day I'll be able to fill this emptiness inside me and be whole again. But until that day comes, I need the love of my children to get through this.

I don't hate you, I feel sorry for you. One day you'll realize you lost the best thing that ever walked into and then out of your life." I left it unsigned.

Heather had tears in her eyes and if I'm not mistaken Ann's eyes were also a little damp.

"Steve, you never said if you wanted the divorce to go through." David said, reaching over and taking my letter from Heather.

"Does it really matter anymore?"

"Steve, everything in life matters."

"Yeah, I used to think the same way, no more," I replied.

Try as we might, we never came to any resolution, though Heather rarely took her eyes off me, neither did she say a word directly to me.

"Thursday I want to talk about what each of you think is best for Robert and Amy. The psychologist is meeting with them tomorrow. Maybe we'll have a little insight into how this is affecting them. Remember I need it in writing, and this week Heather, please give it a little more thought." With that we all headed out.

Heather looked like she wanted to say something, but didn't, thank God. It looked like she was still bitter. A look I hated. Why should she be bitter? I was the one whose heart was cut out. "See you Thursday," was the last thing I said before the elevator door closed.

I thought I came up with perfect reasons why the kids should live with me. Heather thought the same of her reasons. We each thought we were the better parent, but I had one thing up on Heather. I was planning on moving into my parents' house. They had three unused bedrooms, one for each of us. The kids would have their own room and a full-time adult with them whenever I wasn't around. I was disappointed David and Ann didn't care much for either Heather or my reasons on where the kids should live. They had other ideas of where this session needed to go.

Instead of taking about the children, there was question after question from them about Heather and my relationship. I answered them all and truthfully. David and Ann kept on us to open up to one another and we did, but only to a point.

"Steve, you keep saying that Heather lied all the time. Besides sex, can you give me an example?"

"Look, I can't give you an example, but if she was lying about that, she must have been about other things."

"You really are a dick, you know that?" Heather said out loud. "I never lied to you. Maybe I sometimes just didn't tell you the whole truth," she admitted

"All right, I'll bite. Give me an example of one of your half truths," I said, folding my arms in front of me.

"Okay, did I ever refuse you sex excluding when I was physically sick or had monthly cramps?" I was thinking. "I never did, even when I wasn't in the mood. I knew even if I wasn't in the mood I'd enjoy it anyway, that's just the way you were. You see, I've always needed a lot of foreplay to get off. Sometimes we just didn't have the time, you know what I mean. So, I made sure you got off and I didn't worry about myself. I knew the next time you'd more than make it up to me, and you always did."

"So you faked it?" I spit back at her.

"Yup, and you never knew."

"How many times? Fifty percent? Seventy-five percent? How fucking often, Heather?"

"You still don't get it, do you? I didn't do it because I didn't love you; I did it because I loved you too much. Most women would have said NO! Or I have a headache. I wanted to give you pleasure whenever I could. I wasn't pulling the wool over your eyes. I didn't moan and groan screaming for you to fuck me harder. No, we just made tender gentle love. Did I have a mind-blowing orgasm those times? No, but I was satisfied in the fact that I loved you and you loved me and that's all that mattered. But frankly, you did do it for me, and more often than not you had to peel me off the ceiling. I just can't believe you have so little self-confidence in yourself that one stupid statement made by your wife took that all away." She was right about that. I wished she wasn't.

Ann wound up our session shortly thereafter. "I know we didn't talk much about the children except each of you stating your ideas of where they should live and why. What we need right now is to keep the focus on the two of you for a while longer before we can even begin to address the children. Next week, I want the two of you to make a tape on what went wrong in your marriage outside of the sexual issues. Also where you see your life six months, a year, and three to five years down the road. I want you to be as specific as possible and cover all aspects of your life." Ann handed us both tape recorders.

How in the hell did I know what was going to happen to me. I could tell her what I wanted, but my crystal ball hadn't been too accurate lately—neither had my track record. I just wanted to go back and relive that Saturday. I kept saying that to myself, finally coming to terms that it wasn't going to happen—no matter how much I wanted it.

I spent hours dictating into that stupid machine, recording then rerecording, then editing what I'd recorded. We had a pretty fantastic marriage up until our falling out. Work was going great; I was up for a promotion next year when the assistant manager was scheduled to retire. My boss told me I had the inside tract. All I needed to do was to keep doing what I was doing and I had it sewed up. Up until that awful day I had it all.

I was still working on my homework assignment Tuesday morning. I thought it sounded lame. I no longer had answers to most of the questions in my life.

"Ann is going to be a little late today, but asked that we start without her," David said when Heather and I walked in through the door almost at the same time.

I had just come from work and was dressed in my corporate casual normal clothes. Heather, on the other hand, looked like a woman who was going out on a date or maybe to some club. She looked great and sexy as hell. She made sure not to look me in the eye. Looks like someone was planning on having some fun after our session tonight.

"I usually ask who wants to go first, but tonight I want the two of you to exchange tapes, go into the adjoining two rooms, and listen to each others recording, then come back so we can talk about what you heard." Our eyes met and we hesitantly handed each other our tape.

I sat at the plain wooden desk, pushed play and got more than a few surprises. Holy shit, Heather was leaving after our divorce became final. She was going to quit her job and live with a friend of hers who owned a bed and breakfast in St. Augustine. She had already checked on schools for the kids and was going to buy into the bed and breakfast with the money she made off the sale of our house. She saw herself starting her own business. Finally, she planned on finding someone and remarrying within the next five years because as she put it, "I relish the closeness of giving myself totally to someone I truly love." She was moving on.

She was going to be disappointed when she heard what I had to say. Besides looking foreword to my promotion next year, I had no plans for a year and certainly not five years from now. I'd not even thought about the money from the house and just said that I'd do my best to ease the pain my children would feel after the divorce. Looks like I wouldn't be living my life through them.

We did agree on one thing though, we both thought our previous life was something out of a fairy tale. Heather said she had been happy, I know I'd been the same.

What the hell was wrong with this picture, especially with me in particular? My life was in shambles and I hated it. I walked out of that damn room and met the group in the main room. I threw the recorder on the table and looked at all three of them.

"I'm done. Tell the judge I've got nothing more in me, I give up. I can't eat, sleep, and at work I'm basically useless. Heather, you took my friends, my house, and now you're trying to take my children from me. I live in a fucking one room crappy apartment, and walk to work to save money so I can help pay for two separate households. Is it fair? Hell, no, but there isn't a fucking thing I can do about it."

"Your choice, you could have stayed, but you chose to leave. No one forced you out," Heather said, standing her ground.

"Why didn't you tell me? You're not some shy little girl or a delicate flower. Why didn't you say your needs weren't being met, and don't lay the crap on me that I was the Adonis you'd been waiting your entire life for?"

"You would have taken it badly. How could I say that on those few occasions you don't do it for me? Shit, fucking Brian couldn't handle it! That last weekend together I told him straight out although he was good in bed, he was a selfish lover and too often he didn't get me off."

That statement made me sit down in my chair.

"He told me I was a cold fish, and that there must be something wrong with me because he'd never had any complaints from anyone else. Well, I told him I was complaining. That was the weekend we broke up. When I saw him a few months later, after you and I were a couple, he was still being his big-headed self and mockingly asked if you was doing it for me. I told him you were a more caring lover, and even though you weren't as big, you more than knew what to do with it."

I was sitting there listening to a conversation that I never knew happened but should have. She told Brian I was better in bed.

"Close your mouth Steve, you're catching flies. "

"But..."

Look, I'm not saying Brian was a bad lover. Hell, he could put me over the top like no other. But, he wasn't you. Steve, Brian looked at sex as a contact sport. He was going to try and pitch a shutout every night. You on the other hand didn't look at it as sex but lovemaking. Don't get me wrong, being pounded into the bed is great sometimes, but in the long run, I will take your type of love making any day of the week."

"But you said Brian was a better in bed!" I reminded her.

"Steve, Brian had a nine inch cock and could go on for hours. Once, twice, maybe three times is okay, but I didn't want that kind of love making day in day out. Look, I wasn't lying when I said I need a lot of foreplay and with two kids in the house we didn't always have the time. You did nothing wrong, it was me, not you. Talk to any woman and ask them truthfully if they have a mind-blowing orgasms or even an orgasm every time. Steve, you'll find that most normal women don't. Steve, I'm a normal woman who happens to love you very much and am so very sorry you heard what you did. Hell, you at least took it a lot better than Brian did. He slapped me across the face and I proceeded to try and claw his eyes out, while he pelted me a few more times. It wasn't a pretty weekend."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"I am ashamed of what happened. I never told anybody. But over and over I told you that I loved you—you, not him. What more was there to say?"

"You said the words, but at the time they were just words." Everyone was now looking at me.

"Steve, that doesn't make sense what you're saying," Ann said, writing as fast as she could, looking at her husband David.

"After I over heard what I did, I stopped hearing what she was saying afterwards. I guess the best way to put it is I felt I was blindsided. What she said might have been true, I just wasn't hearing anything, anymore. We were both talking a lot but neither one of us was listening to what the other was saying or trying to say. Like I said, we were both hearing just words"

"Well, this was an interesting session. Why don't we think about what was said tonight and talk more on Thursday." I nodded, totally drained. I wanted to talk to Heather more—it looked like she had other plans for the evening.

Ann and David steered us out. The two of us were left alone in the hall.

"Heather, let me walk you to your car," I said, leading her down the hall. What's that saying? The silence was deafening?