Crossed Paths

"A fucking gold-digger," I repeated, convinced by her own words. "And it sounds like your attorney is one too. Well, birds of a feather, I guess."

"No! Vincent Diprimo is big in his family business. Car dealerships, rentals, insurance, and real estate, and the like; divorce looks bad to them. He agreed to let me have some freedom as long as I'm discreet about it and give him plausible deniability. And that I'm there to take care of his needs whenever he wants. I've been telling him I'm going to see my sister Trudy or to a conference or something. Since I'm away, that gives him the freedom to do, well, whatever, for the weekend but I guess something came up this time."

"Yeah, his dick, I suspect. It needed servicing, I'm sure."

She grimaced, admitting with her facial expression that it was probably true, and I swallowed hard to keep from hurling right there.

"I'm so sorry, Tom. I still want to divorce him but I just haven't had the resources or the fallback position that I need to do it. I've been wanting to tell you but I didn't want you to react like this."

My lunch safe again for at least a few seconds, I gave a sigh of disgust. "Hallie, you knew my feelings and that I'd react just like this, but you did it anyway? What the hell were you thinking? If you'd just told me the truth from the start, we might have worked on this together and worked something out. Now, I don't know. I'm so confused, finding that I love you and I hate you at the exact same time. I'm, ah, I've got to go."

"Tom, please, stay. Tonight. Let's talk this out, please?"

"Hallie, I'm sorry but while you're still married, there's nothing to talk about. And, I hate to say it, but if you divorce your husband and come calling for me, I'm not sure if there will be anything to say even then. I thought you'd become my best friend in addition to my lover, but you've proven yourself a cheater and a liar and someone I honestly don't know as well as I thought. To make matters worse, I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again. No, I'm sorry, Hallie, but I've got to leave and think about this"

She cried and pleaded as I packed, seemingly promising me the moon and the stars if I'd stick by her, but I knew I wasn't her lap dog as much as I'd loved her or her fuck toy despite how she'd fucked me and her husband over. Within five minutes, I had my things packed and was walking out the door as I tried to ignore her begging and crying.

***

There was a huge hole in my heart as I flew home and in the days that followed.

When we'd met again after so many years at the reunion, I knew from the start that there was a chance of falling in love with Hallie. It was even harder after we'd gotten together and made love so many times that weekend, but I'd tried to be smart and avoid it. Considering how far apart we lived, I hadn't even wanted to, but it happened despite the odds and my wishes. Yes, I'd come to love her—and, in truth, still did—but my world was a disaster and was on fire with a flame she'd lit, both in my heart for her and in the rubble around me that threatened to destroy the person I'd always thought myself to be.

I shook my head, wondering what to do and how to come through with honor, dignity, and love. Or any combination thereof.

Remembering that we were already adulterers, I realized that the chance for honor and dignity were already gone.

Love, on the other hand? I wanted to keep loving her but really didn't know if I could even if she wanted me to.

I was extremely angry with her and on edge about where we might be going if she chose to divorce her husband. If not, I knew I'd never see her again.

I typed her a long email, putting my raw emotions into reasoned thoughts and those thoughts onto the virtual paper of the computer screen. It took a week of typing and retyping, editing and reediting a bit at a time before I finally felt it was close enough that I could press SEND. At the end of the message, I told her to contact me if she started the divorce proceedings or if she made up her mind to just stay with her husband; if neither of those things occurred, I'd be back in touch in a few weeks.

That it would probably be the last time wasn't stated, but if she couldn't read between the lines, she wasn't nearly as smart as I thought.

My work became my life for the next few weeks, not so much because it needed to be but for the distraction from my problem named Hallie and the guilt that I felt for violating the moral code that I'd always followed. That changed one weekend in June when Suzie came to visit.

"I've missed you, Dad. You've seemed so distracted in the past few months, even when we talk on the phone I'm not sure if you're really paying attention to the discussion or if you're off in your own little world and I'm just a minor interference somewhere along the edge. What's going on?"

She was right. I hadn't been ignoring her but I hadn't been paying as much attention to her needs as I had in the past due to the problems in my life.

"Sweetheart, your mom and I always tried to teach you to do the right thing, but, unfortunately, we haven't always been the best examples. I don't want to get into the details because it wasn't intentional, but I did something recently that wasn't right and may have hurt someone else."

Her head bobbed. "Dad, I'm twenty-one now, remember? When I had a problem with liking two guys last year, Mom admitted to me that she'd made a bad mistake with you. You both tried to protect me from the truth back when it happened, but Mom said I needed to hear it now that I'm grown so I could learn from her fuck-up—yes, don't look at me like that, that's exactly what she called it—and hopefully not repeat it in my life. I had to make a decision before I did something like she did. I learned from her fuck-up and did the right thing. You're not going to deny me that teaching moment, are you?"

I looked at her, thankful we'd raised such a good young woman, even if she was sometimes too inquisitive. She put her hand on mine and asked, "What happened, Dad?"

I hadn't planned to share my mistake with anyone, particularly not my daughter, but it was a good life lesson for her that might reinforce what Tricia had told her and might even help her someday. I took a deep breath and plunged in.

"I ran into an old friend, we hit it off, and we fell in love over the next few months. Then, when I was planning to talk to her about making it permanent, I found out that she wasn't as divorced as she'd claimed after all."

"Ouch. She lied to you? And cheated on her husband? Now, even though you didn't know, you feel guilty about it. Right, Dad?"

Suzie had always been as smart as a whip, being on track to graduate summa cum laude the following year. She'd just proven it again.

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. I might add that she claims her husband is a cheating scumbag, too, but—"

"—two wrongs don't make a right," we finished together, proving that Suzie also remembered that often-taught lesson from her childhood.

"Dad, it wasn't right but it wasn't intentional and you stopped when you found out, right?"

"Yeah. But, I'm not sure where we're going from here."

"That's what you should be concerned about then, not about what happened in the past."

Like I said, smart kid.

***

A few days later, I received a call from Tricia.

"Is Suzie okay?" I asked hurriedly, worried due to the unexpected timing of the call.

"Yes, she's fine, Tom, but she seemed worried about you. She wouldn't give me any details, but I just wanted to make sure you're okay."

"Tricia, I'm fine. It's no big deal." I should have shut up there and, possibly, thanked her for calling, but we'd shared a lot over the years and it slipped out. "I made a mistake recently and it, ah, hasn't been fun living with it."

"I'm sorry. Want to talk about it?"

"No, I don't," I paused. "Well, yeah, maybe. Can I ask you a very personal question?"

She chuckled. "We've asked each other a lot of very personal questions over the years. I think this is the first time you've ever asked IF you can ask. Go for it."

"When you had the affair, did you ever feel guilty?"

"Whoa. That really is personal. And unexpected."

"Sorry. You don't have to answer. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Tom, wait! I, ahem, I want to answer. I was a big girl and I was intelligent enough to know that what I was doing was wrong and that it would hurt you and hurt us if it ever got out. Unfortunately, the temptation was strong and I wasn't, not strong enough to resist it that first time anyway.

"Once I stepped over that line I'd never planned to cross, that—not made me braver but maybe emboldened me?—to keep doing it. I knew I shouldn't do it, and yes, I felt guilty and dirty as a result, but I got the extra thrill and thought it would be okay until I messed up and you caught me. It was a relief, in a way, but when it came time to pay the consequences, the cost was a lot higher than I expected and, well, I'm still paying for them and regretting the choice every day. I'm really sorry, Tom, for what I did to you and to us. I'm sorry for the trust I took away."

"Thanks, Tricia, for being honest with me. Now, anyway."

"What's wrong, Tom? Why are you asking this now? You're not married, but—wait! Are you seeing someone who is?"

"Was seeing someone, and we were getting very close, but then the truth came out and now I realize that I'm an adulterer, too, though not by choice."

"Tom, don't blame yourself if you didn't know. I made a choice, a really bad, stupid choice in hindsight, but if you didn't know she was married, you can't blame yourself for something you did."

"Yeah, I keep telling myself that. It's not working too well so far."

"Not if you don't let it. Tom, just remember though, you do know now, so you're responsible for any choices you make now from here on out. That may seem tough, but I've known you for a long time, honey, and I know you'll make the right ones."

***

The days passed and I heard nothing from Hallie, so I started writing a message to her, something that would tell her how I felt and that this was goodbye.

Similar to old movies where the guy has a pile of crumpled notes tossed around the wastebasket, I felt that the recycle bin on my computer would have been littered with my failed efforts except for the ability to edit on screen without actually wasting the paper. I was busy editing yet another version one evening after work when my doorbell rang.

A man in a really well-tailored suit stood in front of the door, with two other men—really big men, in fact—in suits standing at the bottom of the stairs on the sidewalk looking up my way. Dressed identically in suits that didn't fit so well and with the same blocky features of a professional defensive lineman, I immediately imagined a bulked-up version of the old Bobbsey twins. I opened the door slightly and said, "May I help you?"

"Mr. Jarrett, my name is Vincent Diprimo. We've never met but my understanding is that you know my wife, Hallie. Quite well, I believe. We need to talk. May I come in?"

"Mr. Diprimo, I'm sorry, but now's not a good time."

"Mr. Jarrett, I'm here from New Jersey. My boys and I would really appreciate it if you would make the time and invite me in rather than forcing the issue. Now."

I imagined that Bert and Nan-ce behind him could knock the door off the hinges with ease if he ordered it, so I said, "Ahem, come in, Mr. Diprimo." I opened the door and allowed him in and then shut it behind him before the Bulksey twins could make it up the stairs. If they kept coming and hit the door as I knew they could, I'd have a home invasion case, though I hoped that they wouldn't and that I wouldn't need a reason to try to defend myself.

Or rebuild my house, if I ever recovered.

Fortunately, he nodded to the boys as the door was closing, and they nodded back in reply, stopping about half way up the steps. The deadbolt clicked a moment later and I turned to him.

"Please, come in the living room and have a seat. May I offer you some coffee, tea, soda?" After a moment, I added, "Or maybe Scotch?"

His face, a mask of seriousness to this point, finally broke a smile and he looked just a bit relaxed for the first time. "Scotch sounds like an excellent choice, Mr. Jarrett."

I stepped over to the cabinet, to open the door, revealing a small bar inside. Pouring each of us a glass, I handed one to him and asked, "What can I do for you, Mr. Diprimo? Is Hallie okay?"

He took a good sniff of the Macallan in his glass before taking a sip. "Very nice, Mr. Jarrett. Thank you. And, Hallie? She's fine, though she doesn't know I'm here. We're currently in couples counseling after the stunt she pulled. For seven or eight months, she usually told me she was going to see her sister in Ohio each month when she wasn't off to a conference, but, other than the trip to Cleveland—in what, April?—I don't think she stepped foot in Ohio during the entire time and she never saw Trudy except over Christmas when she came to us."

He took another sip of the scotch, savoring it for a moment before letting it slide down. "Which brings us to my reason for being here, Mr. Jarrett. I have one question for you: in your association with her. Did you ever fuck my wife?"

He was looking right into my eyes and I'm sure he knew the truth, but I stared back at him with as much resoluteness as I could muster. I recalled Hallie's comment, when she finally admitted to her situation, that she'd mentioned something about plausible deniability. I hoped she hadn't been lying to me then like so many of her other lies. I also remembered what I'd told her.

"Mr. Diprimo, Hallie was an old and dear friend, for whom I cared a great deal. I was, ah, mistaken, about her marital status, but I assure you, I did care for her and I would never, ever fuck her."

I continued to stare at him, hoping he'd believe my truth as I presented it, for although Hallie and I had enjoyed sex together many times, I considered it making love because of the way I felt for her, and not plain old fucking just for the fun of it.

Vince Diprimo stared at me for the longest time before finally picking up his glass, throwing the last of the scotch back and setting it down rather hard on the coffee table between us.

"Good," he said. "Now that's settled, there's just one other point. For now, Mr. Jarrett, Hallie is my wife. While we've had our share of problems over the years, I hope it stays that way and that you'll take my advice and stay the fuck away from her from now on. If I even hear a hint that you two are seeing each other again, or communicating in any way—well, let's just say you won't like the result.

"If, on the other hand, she decides to pursue a divorce and take the financial bath that she signed up for when we married, then I won't care whether you make love to her, fuck her, or fuck her over. However, you might want to consider whether you'd really want to invest your time in a proven liar and cheater. If she'll cheat on me, her loving husband of twenty-five years and the father of her only child, just imagine what she might do to you now that she's grown used to cheating."

He stood up and added, "Thank you for your time, your attention, and your scotch. Now goodbye, Mr. Jarrett. For the sake of all involved, I sincerely hope our paths won't cross again."

***

I drank another glass of Macallan after he left and the deadbolt, for what it was worth, was back in place. It took a while before my heart quit racing and I could consider the situation.

Over the past eight or nine months, I'd been through so much. During that time, I'd come to love Hallie.

During that same time, Hallie had lied to me, repeatedly, telling me her tale of her lonely life, entirely excising her husband from the picture she presented. As such, I'd also come to hate her for what she'd done to me, to us, and to her husband. Though she claimed that he'd cheated on her for years, Hallie had proven to be a liar and a cheat, just like Mr. Diprimo said, and I couldn't know whether her claims about him were true or false.

As I debated this in my mind, I realized that it really didn't matter whether he'd cheated or not. If he had as she claimed, that was despicable and would have given her a reason to consider leaving him but it didn't give her the right to lie and cheat on him as she'd done. In addition, and perhaps more importantly, it didn't give her the right to draw me in and make me a part of her lies. I'd been part of her tangled web, but definitely not by choice.

No, I'd come to love her, but I loved the person she claimed to be, not the person she really was and that felt like a knife to the heart to me. When I finally accepted that, I knew what I had to do.

***

An overnight package for me arrived at my office a few days later. There was a handwritten letter from Hallie inside on top of a stack of bound papers.

Dearest Tom,

I'm so sorry for everything that has happened but I'm in the process of setting it right so I can move on with my life and give us a chance to be together. A copy of the first part of the certified divorce petition is included in the envelope with this letter so you can see that it's the truth.

That brings me to the hardest part of this letter. Tom, I should have never lied to you and should have never used you as I did. I am truly sorry for that and I promise that I'll never lie to you again.

She continued with some additional information about her new address, phone number, and a new, private email address before adding a long, loving, and very personal message that brought pain to my heart and tears to my eyes.

After thinking about it all afternoon, with the help of the rest of the bottle of Macallan, I opened my laptop that evening and started typing her new email address before I stopped.

Despite Vincent Diprimo's over-the-top warning and his muscle, what I needed to say didn't need to be said by email or even over the phone. I closed the email and opened my favorite travel app.

***

A few days later, after taking a chance by sending Hallie a message using her new, private email that Vincent Diprimo wouldn't intercept it from my new email address that I'd probably never use again, I met Hallie at a quiet, out-of-the-way cafe in Newark.

She hustled up when she arrived and started to throw her arms around me as she said, "Oh, Tom! I've missed you so much and I'm so glad you're here. You took so long to respond, I was really worried."

I shook my head and held up a hand to hold her off. "Hallie, stop. Have a seat. I need to tell you something."

In her heart, she knew what was coming, and she shook her head pleadingly. "Tom, please? Don't do this, I beg you. Don't."

Her plea hurt, like stabbing me again, but I shook my head and forged on with what needed to be done. I said, "Hallie, I loved you, and still do, but you played a wicked game with your husband and with me, using us both because you didn't have the courage to do the right thing, to only choose one of us.

"Instead, you tried to choose both of us, thinking, I guess, that it was safe because we were so far apart that I'd never get to the point where I'd want to make it permanent. I did though, I fell in love with you and was willing to do anything, to have you come to me, or if you wished, for me to move here to be with you. Then it fell apart, which was inevitable when a relationship isn't founded on the truth."

"I wanted to tell you, Tom, I really did, but—"

"It's too late for 'buts,' Hallie. It doesn't matter now. You're getting the divorce you should have gotten before getting involved with me and losing a man who once loved you but you're doing it so late that you've also lost me, the other guy who loved you."