tagLoving WivesBut Love Is Blind....

But Love Is Blind....


"Mr. and Mrs. Olson" the nurse called. "The doctor will see you now. This way, please."

We followed her into Brian's office, me admiring the sway of her trim hips, Jenny poking me in the ribs as she saw my gaze.

"Jake, Jennifer, please, have a seat," said Dr. Brian Fellows, a friend and neighbor for years.

"Look, I have good news and bad news. The results of your test have come back, Jenny. It appears that you have an especially virulent and uncommon case of vaginitis. That's the bad news. The good news is that's it's certainly treatable, but in your case, treatment will take a few months. Jake, the bad news for you is that that part of Jenny's anatomy is out of bounds for you for at least 4 to 6 months.

We both breathed a sigh of relief that it wasn't more serious than that. While I was a bit disappointed, I realized that my disappointment didn't go very deep. It's not as if we had a passionate sex life, in fact, it was very mundane and sporadic. I looked over at Jenny and was a little surprised to see a small smile come to her lips then vanish quickly.

"Whew," I exclaimed. "Thank goodness that's all it is......"

Jenny interrupted, "Explain the treatment, Brian. I hope that it doesn't involve going to the hospital.

"No, no, Jenny. I will give you a prescription for vaginal suppositories. You are to insert one every morning after your shower and at night before bedtime. This is the treatment recommended and it's more than 99 percent effective. You'll be fine," assured Brian.

So, with prescription in hand, we left Brian's office and headed for home. I asked Jen if she wanted me to fill the script for her, but she shook her head and told me that she would take care of it. We drove in comfortable silence and I gave some thought to the fact that I wouldn't be having intercourse with Jenny for almost half a year.

It's funny, while I was a little upset, I found that I didn't have a deep sense of disappointment. I found myself a bit surprised that I was only a "little" upset. I glanced over at Jenny and again found myself proud of how she had managed to keep herself so trim and fit. We belong to the club at our community and Jen has taken full advantage of their facilities to keep toned. Damn, she looked good despite her 46 years. I really believe that she weighs no more now than when we first married. Also, her early morning 3 mile jogs certainly helped her maintain a sensible weight.

So why was our sex life so boring? I know that I'm now almost 50, but that shouldn't mean that I should be virtually celibate. I still had no problem getting it up, so to speak, so why didn't I find having sex with Jenny more exciting? I knew that I still looked fairly good. I was just a bit heavier, but the extra 10 pounds or so was well distributed over my 6 foot frame. My dark hair was still full, although there were a few silver strands showing at my temples. Shit, I thought that made me look distinguished.

Damn, when we were first married, and even for years after, we screwed like rabbits. Okay, by the time we entered our 40s we did slow down a bit. Instead of 4 or 5 times a week, we were still being intimate at least a couple of times a week. But it wasn't only the frequency of sex, it was the quality. We had been loving and we showed it. It was my fondest desire to make sure that Jenny had orgasms and fully enjoy intimacy, and I truly believe she felt the same way. We loved doing for each other.

We'd been married now for almost 25 years and they have been, at least in my mind, very good ones. We met through a mutual friend my first year out of law school. I almost swallowed my tongue the first time I saw her. About 5' 5" tall, a beautiful figure, short, light brown hair and flashing green eyes. The whole package almost had me hooked. We hit it off immediately, dated for a year and married. The children came rapidly. Jenny wanted children and she wanted them as soon as possible. Teddy was born a year after we married and Diane 15 months after that. Jenny took the appropriate maternity leave and went back to work as soon as we were comfortable leaving the kids in day care. Teddy's now married and Diane is a senior in college..

But things had very gradually changed over the past few months. Our coupling now was almost mechanical. Jenny would not initiate sex and when I did, she would comply, but with little enthusiasm. That kind of response can deaden one's desire, as it did mine. I guess it was just easier to not approach her. I just didn't enjoy making love to a woman who might as well be sleeping.

I sighed and thought to myself, "I guess it won't be all that tough for me to stop having intercourse with Jenny. It's not as if it's been all that wonderful anyway."

The next week was busy for me. I am an attorney and a partner with a firm in center city and we were scrambling to put the finishing touches on a proposal for a prospective client. Landing this one would bring in a bundle of cash to the firm, so I was leaving the house early and coming home late. Thank goodness I had Cheryl Turner, another partner in the firm, working with me. She was sharp and perceptive and I knew that the success of the project would be in no small part due to her participation.

Jenny understood, she had been through times like this before and she understood how it worked. We would be frantic for a couple of weeks, and then things would settle down and we could resume a normal life again.

Jenny was busy herself. She would leave for work not long after I did. She worked for the same medical supply company since graduating from college and was now a senior sales associate. Her income still amazed me, it ran well into six figures. You can guess that we lived very well.

It was on a Saturday, a couple of weeks later, that I managed to get a splinter in my finger while puttering in the garage and I couldn't get the damned thing out. Jenny wasn't home yet, so I went upstairs into her closet and looked for her sewing kit for a needle to pry the sliver out. I then discovered, wedged behind a piece of luggage, a shopping bag from Victoria's Secret. My curiosity got the better of me and I took the bag out and looked inside. I removed the box and opened it. Wow, a gorgeous negligee, transparent and very short. A very brief pair of sheer thong panties accompanied it.

"Jeez," I thought. "My sex life is going to be picking up. I'll not spoil Jenny's surprise." So I carefully repacked everything and put it all back where I found it. Now all I had to do is wait until Jenny completed the treatments. When that was done with, we would celebrate in style. I hummed as I returned to the garage, totally forgetting about the splinter.

A few weeks later, as we were sitting watching the late news one evening, I turned to her and asked, "Jen, when you're in the city tomorrow, could you stop and get some cheesecake from the Classic Bakery?"

I loved that stuff. You see, Jenny would drive into Manhattan every Friday to see a couple of her clients. A few months ago she had decided it would be easier to stay over and drive back Saturday morning. That was better than fighting the traffic Friday evening.

I was a little taken aback to see a flash of annoyance cross her face.

"I'll try, Jake, but you know how busy I get when I'm in the city, so don't get your hopes up," she replied rather sharply. She then turned her attention back to the tv.

What the hell was that all about? I wondered. I didn't mention it again, but I noticed that she returned on Saturday without my cheesecake and also without any mention of it. I was irritated, but decided not to make an issue of it. I was aware that our relationship over the past few months was not exactly loving. We tended to get annoyed at each other at the slightest provocation. I wondered where the love and caring had gone.

I started to wonder about our marriage. Is this what my future was going to be like? The indifference, the boredom, the lack of any meaningful intimacy, and I don't mean only sexual. For the first time I began to contemplate a future which looked rather bleak. It was in this frame of mind that I waited for an opportune time, a time when we both were relaxed and lounging by the pool one Sunday.

"Jenny, I really need to have a serious conversation with you," I began.

Jen looked up at me with that same flash of annoyance. This time I just ignored it and bulled my way forward.

"You have to realize that there's obviously something wrong with our marriage. We don't seem to care as much for each other as we once did. We argue about silly things much more than is good for this relationship. Instead of conversations, we walk around almost ignoring each other. " I paused briefly and then asked, "Jenny, are you having an affair? Do you still love me?"

I saw her tense and her eyes harden briefly. She arose, came over to me and seated herself close to my side. "Oh Jake, don't be silly. You know that I love you," she said softly as she reached to caress my cheek.

"And you're right, of course. We are drifting apart; we have to remember why we're together. I have to remember. I'm sorry, Jake. I know that I have been difficult to live with lately. I don't know why that is, but things will be different now. I think I needed to hear how you felt. Thanks, honey," she murmured as she bent over to kiss me briefly.

I felt reassured, I really did. I recognized that all marriages go through something like this, a time when spouses take each other for granted. Fortunately, we saw that and we would take steps to overcome the ennui. So why was I uneasy? And why did Jenny never meet my eyes as she professed her love for me?

Things did change and the next couple of months were dramatically better. Jenny was much more solicitous and took the time to do the small things that mean so much in a union. I was happy that I had had that conversation with her. In fact, the very next Saturday, she brought home a cheesecake for me. I was tickled pink with her thoughtfulness as well as the cheesecake.

Then, almost imperceptibly, the kind and gentle Jenny started to disappear again. Slowly, the indifference and coolness returned. I have to emphasize, there was never an overt act of cruelty, no anger, no acts of viciousness or spitefulness That would have required some passion. That was the nub of the problem as I saw it. All of the passion had vanished from our marriage.

I was at a loss. I really didn't know what to do, what further steps to take. I wasn't about the have the same conversation. I decided to just take a breath, step back, and try to find a reason for Jenny's withdrawal. Could it be that she was just complacent after almost 25 years of marriage? Or was it something more serious?

It was in this frame of mind that I began to become more observant. Yeah, it was in the back of my mind, way in back and I tried to keep it there, but the first creeping doubts about Jenny's fidelity came slithering out. I was pretty sure I was being foolish, but the uncertainty was there. No use trying to pretend. But this was a stretch, I told myself. But was it? She certainly had ample opportunity to stray. I shook my head, admitting that I may be becoming paranoid.

Just to reassure myself, the following Friday I again went into Jenny's closet, searching for that negligee. It wasn't there, it was gone. I felt my heart rate go up, but I sat back and tried to calm down. I then went into her dresser and found her underwear drawer. I found it full of underwear, amazing. I really started to feel foolish, almost like a character in a romance novel - the dorky, unsuspecting husband. I then proceeded to her walk-in closet. I stood still for a moment, overwhelmed with the vast array of clothing.

I then turned my eyes to a wall of shoes and boots, all neatly stacked on shelves in their boxes. On a sudden impulse I pulled a boot box out from the bottom of a shelf. It was oversized and she had half a dozen of them. I found the negligee. There were no tags on it now, nor on the thong panties. They had company. There was a collection of sexy and provocative underwear there and in two other boxes. . Teddys, thongs, half bras, shit, she could have opened her own Frederick's of Hollywood there. Three of the large boxes were filled with this stuff.

I suddenly sat back and and tried to catch my breath. I was having a problem breathing, like all the air had been sucked off the planet. At the bottom of the last box I had discovered a small, circular container of pills. Small, purple pills - a months supply. I knew what they were, she had taken them before my vasectomy almost ten years ago. Birth control pills,and a months supply, none missing. Was this a stash for when she used up what she had hidden somewhere else?

It looked like all of my questions were answered, all of my doubts confirmed. I finally had the answers I needed, my confusion resolved. So why was I feeling like shit? I blinked away the tears that had started to fill my eyes. I fought back the nausea that threatened and took long, deep breaths. I quickly but neatly put everything back as I had found it and walked out of the bedroom and down the stairs. I started for the bar, but stopped - I needed a clear head. I walked out onto the terrace, sat and began to think.

I tried to steel myself. I tried to put my thoughts in order and come to some decisions concerning plans for the immediate future. I couldn't - I just couldn't think straight. I felt my insides churn. I felt myself sweating, flushing and then turning cold, shivering. I felt inundated, overwhelmed with a sense of desolation and sorrow. It actually felt like my life had ended. I loved this woman with every fibre of my being and she had deliberately and coldly betrayed that love.

I started to feel another emotion - anger. No, not anger, rage. I shook with ire, I saw that I had clenched my firsts, digging my nails into my palms. So I sat there, for what seemed like hours, but was probably no more than 30 minutes or so, alternating between sorrow and rage.

I thought about divorce and knew for certain that that at least was going to happen. I'm not a divorce lawyer, but I knew that this state allowed fault and no-fault divorces. I also knew that adultery was good cause for a fault divorce. Her rights to the distribution of our assets would be impacted negatively. I also realized that I really didn't give a shit. We both had money to spare - I didn't want to go through the hassle. But I did know that I needed hard evidence, evidence that I didn't as yet have.

My brain had started to work again. I began making plans, tentative, but at least I had started to think. A thought stuck me and I headed up the stairs again. I entered the bathroom and looked at Jenny's "stuff" around her sink area. I didn't know what half of that crap was. I started to rummage carefully through the small bags and plastic boxes. At the bottom of a large make-up bag I found what I was looking for. A small, circular container of the birth control pills. It appeared that she would take her daily pill while occupied in the bathroom - clever. There were 5 pills left - it looked like she would soon be using her hidden stash.

I didn't know if this was going to work, but it would be an interesting experiment. I quickly went to her closet and pulled out the appropriate box, reached in and extracted the full container of pills. I then rushed downstairs, emptied all of them into a glass dish and placed them in the microwave oven. I nuked the suckers for 60 seconds. I then took the pills out and examined them - I didn't see any change and breathed a sigh of relief. I carefully placed each pill back in the container and carefully put it back in the boot box. I had no idea if I had destroyed the effectiveness of the pills, but the next few weeks were going to be very interesting. I had another thought and ran up the stairs and got her remaining 5 pills and nuked them also. I had a stray idea; perhaps I should apply for a research grant from Planned Parenthood.

The weekend was uneventful. Since Jenny was paying so little attention to me anyway, I was able to react normally. I stayed away from her as much as possible on Saturday and Sunday and she took no notice of that. A pretty good indication of the state of the marriage.


It was with a sense of relief that I went into the office on Monday morning. I was sitting at my desk, just staring out of the window, when Cheryl walked in.

"Okay, Jake. What's the problem? I know you well enough to know when's something's gnawing at you. Talk to me, pal."

I looked at her fondly. What a terrific gal. She's been with the firm for over 8 years now and I thanked our lucky stars that we had the good sense to hire her. Now, due to her work ethic and intelligence she had made partner. Of course, I was the first to admit, her good looks and great body didn't hurt either. She was in her mid 40s and had divorced a short while before starting work here.

I thought for a few moments and wondered if I should confide in her. You see, over the past few years Cheryl had become rather close to Jenny, they had become very good friends. They even managed to get together every couple of weeks for lunch or shopping. Despite, or maybe because of that, I went ahead. Maybe, in this case, two heads would be better than one.

"Jenny's having an affair and I think that it's been going on for awhile now."

Cheryl's mouth had dropped open. She looked kind of funny sitting there like that. Her mouth snapped shut and she then said, "Okay, Jake. Why do you think that"? The lawyer in her had taken over.

So I gave her everything that I had. How our relationship had slowly gone downhill, my discoveries on Friday of, but not what I had done to, the little purple pills. I don't know why I didn't tell her about that, but kept that a secret for the time being.

Cheryl sat, thoughtful, for awhile. " What are you going to do, Jake? I would urge you to give yourself sometime before taking any drastic action. Get yourself together, this is still very fresh so make sure that you act sensibly." Then, with a puzzled look in her eyes, she said, "Tell me again about her medical condition,"

Her pager went off and she muttered, "Shit, my client is here. I have to go. But Jake, keep me informed. Let me help however I can.. I'll stop by later, I want to ask you a question."

I nodded and thanked her as she sped off. I knew what my next step was going to be and I pulled the phone over and punched in a number.

"Good morning, Grayson's" a female voice answered.

"Hi, Marge. It's Jake Olson. Is Paul in?"

"Oh, hi Mr. Olsen. I'll ring him for you." she replied.

In a few seconds, Paul Grayson came on the line. "Hi Jake, how are you/"

"Not wonderful, Paul. I need your services and sooner rather then later. Can you come over now?"

He heard the tension in my voice. "I'll see you in around 30 minutes, Jake."

True to his word, Paul Grayson was sitting in a chair in my office as promised. I felt better just having him near. He was the head of a private investigation service that the office used quite frequently. Paul was efficient, discreet and very ethical, or as ethical as you can be considering his profession. I gave Paul all of the facts and my suspicions, again not mentioning what I had done to the birth control pills, and I wondered to myself why I was not sharing this. What the hell, it had no bearing on what I would eventually do anyway, I rationalized.

Paul sat and only interrupted to ask a few questions occasionally. When I had finished, he just shook his head. "Damn, Jake. I'm really sorry; I don't know what else to say, but that's neither here or there. I'm assuming that you want definitive evidence of any infidelity, right?"

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