Decisions

He didn't say a word. He felt angered... enraged and disgusted by her actions, but now that he saw the real Lydia; the weak, insecure girl... he just couldn't. Why had she felt threatened by her own husband, of all people? Why had he not felt something from her? Had it really been his fault? He felt a plethora of emotions and most of all, he felt saddened; to be hated by the one you loved... He wanted to speak, but decided what he had to say could wait. Instead, he paid rapt attention to her words. Tonight was hers, he decided.

She turned away, unable to look at him. "In the heat of the moment, I did something I shouldn't have; I suggested we have an open marriage." Her voice held nothing but regret and bitterness. She felt disgusted by that particular memory. When he had caught her fucking Jean, on their marital bed no less, she hadn't expressed surprise, shame or any other emotion most adulterers did. Instead, with a gloating and victorious look on her face, she forced him to accept an open marriage or else... "I half expected you to revolt; you could have beaten Jean and me to a bloody pulp, or have me served at the least. Instead, you just calmly accepted it and left us alone." Her eyes were downcast and her voice held a regretful tone. "At that time, I misjudged your silent acceptance as your weakness. Oh, how wrong I was; it was anything but that..." It took all of his willpower to not interrupt her. She couldn't fathom how he had felt at that time. That day had marked a change in his life and his own self; and he hated it. It was all he could do to not break down after being betrayed once again by the person he had once trusted with his own life. Now that he realised it, he had already paid them all back with interest, for what it was worth.

His throat felt dry and he took care of that by gulping down the remaining beer. She looked at him. Her face was etched into a silent plea and her eyes displayed open hurt. "What now, Steve? Just how much more will you make me suffer..." Her eyes became watery and she choked a bit. Still, she mustered enough will to speak without breaking down into a sobbing mess. "I'm dying inside every day. You don't make love to me anymore; instead, you just lie like a lifeless body while I ride you, when we do have sex; and you wear a fucking condom with your own wife! Tell me, are you so afraid that you might catch something from me? Are you so disgusted by me?" It came out more as a cry than a scream. "I haven't had sex with anyone but you in the last two weeks and before that, it had just been sex! Rough and uninhibited sex that made me feel like a cheap whore! Not a person!" The look of utter revulsion surfaced on her face once again, only to be buried under a defeated, sorrowful expression. She gripped his hands with hers and this time, he didn't reject her. "I'm begging you, love. Please, just forgive me and come back to me. Give me my loving husband back. Please..." she choked out.

In a flash, he was beside her, cradling her head in his arms. "It... must've been difficult... opening yourself up like that," he whispered. "Just let it all out. Don't hold back with your husband."

Just like that, the floodgates had opened. He held her until she stopped weeping. It was a good ten minutes before she stopped.

Wordlessly, he brought her a glass of water. Both professed they weren't hungry and retired to their bedroom.

He carried her in his arms, up the flight of stairs and to their bed.

They didn't make love that night; they were content with just spooning together. She felt a comfort and security in his warm, loving arms. He felt delight in holding her and breathing in the flowery smell of her shampooed hair.

Yet, sleep escaped him that night.

-----

The sun had risen and brought with it a pleasant surprise; the smiling face of her husband.

"Good morning," she said rubbing the sleep from her eyes, genuinely surprised. He had his head propped on his knuckles, as he kept looking at her. With no small amount of joy, she noted that his eyes radiated nothing but love, unlike the usual frigid or vacant look he'd have in them.

"It's rude to stare, you know," she said playfully.

His smile only widened and he said, "Then what about this!" In a flash, he was on top of her. He claimed her lips in a soft, chaste kiss which showed how much he loved her. She didn't waste a second in responding to his efforts.

Before she could protest, he separated from her. A second later, the covers had come off her body and he was removing her panties to claim his much-deserved prize.

He didn't stop as he furiously pleasured her with his skilled mouth. Her soft whimpers only served to encourage him.

She didn't stop him as he rewarded her with much-needed sweet release, twice. She could only encourage him by pushing his head deeper towards her wet lower mouth.

Deciding it was time for the main dish, he climbed on top of her and kissed her feverishly.

She didn't mind tasting her own juices on his lips; it only aroused her further. As she tried to remove herself from underneath him and provide him with some of her oral ministrations, he denied her.

"I need you," he whispered in her ear and she was happy to oblige. She would have cried from joy at hearing those three words, if she hadn't already been busy moaning in pleasure.

He moved inside her, in long, slow strokes. He toyed with her nipples until she couldn't take anymore. He showered her neck and face with kisses. Most of all, he focused on their pleasure.

It wasn't long before she came and her orgasm triggered his own.

They showered together and took their sweet time. They rewarded each other with gentle, sensuous caresses and they once again wordlessly conveyed their love to each other.

Breakfast was a silent affair, for the most part. They kept sneaking glances at each other when they thought the other wasn't looking. They felt like they were teenagers, falling in love for the first time.

Had she not been so overjoyed at getting her husband back, she would have noticed the sadness in his eyes that he tried to hide behind all that love. He left for work after giving her a promising kiss and a long hug. She did not notice that the hug had not been of two lovers planning to reunite soon, but something different.

-----

She was sitting there, just like the previous night, when he returned home. This time, he noticed a few differences; her eyes were red, bloodshot.

She had been crying for a while it seemed. Her appearance, seemingly devoid of any spark, left a foul taste in his mouth. He still couldn't see her tears; he still loved her.

As he closed the door behind him, she was shaken out of her stupor. Now, he found himself the centre of her attention.

"Honey..."

Her gaze was confused, unbelieving, and her face had a look of fright. Her voice, so fragile and small, hurt him to the core. Silently, he cursed himself for doing that to her, but a part of him realised... knew, this was necessary.

He looked at her hands, as she sat at the dining table; they held their divorce papers.

Without a word, he walked to her and stood there. His face was hard and betrayed no emotion. His downcast eyes were pools of sorrow and regret.

She stood up and stared at him. Her eyes filled with fresh tears and her bottom lip quivered as she gazed at his seemingly unapologetic, knowing face. His silence, as he met her gaze, was all the answer she needed.

He didn't say a word as she slapped him; he just held her in his arms as she cried.

He knew the betrayal she felt. After all, he had felt the same, all that time ago.

"Why..." She wheezed out, into his shirt.

He didn't say a word. He just held her until she stopped weeping and regained her composure. Helping her sit down, he fetched her some water.

He waited patiently as she wiped her tears away and her breathing turned normal again.

She looked at him, into those brown eyes she had fallen in love with. "Why..." her voice cracked. It hurt so much; she wished it was a dream. She hoped it was a bloody nightmare and she'd wake up any second, but as she gazed into those eyes, she knew it wasn't the case. "I thought... thought we were alright, after... last night."

Her voice held a pleading tone and her eyes, the windows to her soul, revealed how vulnerable she was.

He smiled sadly, knowing it was not going to get any easier. "We were... are, in a way." He took a seat, facing her. "Last night, you bared your soul to me... and I'm really grateful for that." He smiled good-naturedly at her. "It had been a really... enlightening experience." He reached for her hand and held it with his own. "It's only fair, I get to do the same, right?"

She nodded eagerly. She had to hear what was on his mind, what had brought this on. His smile had calmed her down; it always did. His touch provided her with a feeling of stability.

She loved him so much. Even after what he had done to her in the last three to four months, she still loved him so much she could kill him.

He didn't look at her and instead, seemed to stare into nothingness. "Last night, as you were telling me how you hated me, I had felt your pain. I finally knew what you must've been feeling all this time," he said, smiling sadly. "I felt enraged at your words. I felt guilty that I hadn't realised what you had been going through; that I wasn't there to support you when needed me." He looked at her. "You know what I felt the most? I felt pain. I was hated by my own wife; the love of my life, and I didn't even know it." His jaw tightened and he tore his gaze away from her. "I felt like I wasn't your husband; like I was your enemy."

Someone could have stabbed her with a knife and she still wouldn't have felt the hurt she was feeling as her husband spoke. She could see it all on his face, as much as he averted his gaze.

"I understand why you did what you did; It must have been difficult to put up with mister goody-goody and being judged by everyone, even your own family." He used her words from last night. He did not notice she had lowered her eyes in shame. "But everything I had done, I did it for you." He smiled to himself; it was a bittersweet one. "I worked hard every day so I could provide you with everything... anything you desired. I helped you with anything you asked for, just to see you smile." He turned to face the ceiling and momentarily closed his eyes, reminiscing about old times. "I was doing just what every man did for his family."

She teared up at hearing his words. Not that he could see her tears. She felt guilty. She knew she had only herself to blame for her actions; last night had made it quite clear.

He turned to look at her and just stood up. This time, he didn't wipe her tears away. Instead, he walked away from the table and turned to look out the kitchen window. All he saw was the dark sky and their empty, well maintained backyard. It was a moonless night.

He had his back towards his wife and that's what he wanted. He knew, for the next part, he couldn't bear to look at her. At least, not without showing his weak, despicable self.

"I loved my wife dearly. I loved her enough to take a bullet for her," he started to talk and his voice cracked. "Imagine my surprise when I found her cheating on me; she had managed to kill me without even lifting a finger," he chuckled dryly. "I was hurt, confused and angry. I was second guessing myself, thinking that maybe there was something wrong with me. Maybe... maybe, I was the reason she had strayed," he chuckled humourlessly again. After last night, it seemed he had been right to wallow in self-doubt. "I didn't know why she did it, but when she told me how sorry she was for her actions, I believed her. I had accepted her back with open arms."

She could not see his face. She could not see the look of hurt on his face. She could not see the tears that he was trying to hold back. She could, however, hear it all in his voice and it tore her from within.

"After I had caught you with that bastard Jean, I just couldn't..." He started. His eyes became unfocused as numerous emotions danced within them. His voice quivered with unbridled hurt and rage. "I stood there, broken and in disbelief, as you..." He swallowed hard. "As you sucked him while smiling cruelly at me. I couldn't believe this was happening to me... again. You even had the audacity to... to suggest we have an open marriage... while you were sucking and fucking that son of a whore on our bed." He was forced out of his stupor when he realised he'd pressed his knuckles too hard on the marble countertop and as a result, they'd turned red. He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Tears cascaded down her cheeks. Her husband's voice dripped with countless emotions, even as he tried to control them. Listening to him, she realised exactly what she had done and how much she had hurt him. Every shred of her being wanted to rush to his side and embrace him; she wanted to tell him how sorry she was and how she didn't deserve someone like him. But she knew doing that would only worsen the whole ordeal.

"I really wanted to kill you both. Trust me, I really did." He glared at the sink. "But a part of me knew, that wouldn't have helped in the slightest. Your father would have destroyed my life and then some." Sighing to himself, he continued, "I remember, telling everything to a couple of my friends. I remember their words after I had opened up to them. They told me to 'divorce the cheating slut.' Hell, they even offered to hire the best lawyer and investigator they knew for me." He smiled at the memory. "They were already on the phone with the lawyer and the P. I. when I stopped them. They were there for me when I was down and that was all I needed."

He wiped his eyes and turned towards her. The corners of his lips were curled upwards into a small smile.

"Is it possible to love someone so much, you could just destroy them? That's what I felt that day." His eyes locked with hers. "I wanted to destroy you... and I knew what I had to do; I had to go against everything I was, to defeat you at your twisted game." He laughed without mirth. "It was really easy; after all, you had already killed me."

She once again witnessed those cold, distant eyes as they focused on her. Now that he was admitting it, she realised exactly how much she had hurt him. Up until now, he had seemed flawless, unable to be taken down or hurt. Clearly, she had been wrong; he was hurting. Even more than she could see.

She couldn't take it anymore. In a second, she was on her feet and had her arms around him, as they stood there. Consequences be damned.

He was stunned. He didn't return her embrace for a few seconds and it hurt her. He was hesitant... afraid.

Then, after what seemed like an eternity, she felt his arms circle around her.

They did not say anything. They just stood there, appreciating the silence.

They separated. He grabbed her hand and led her to the table. They both sat facing one another.

"You know what attracted me to you, the first time I saw you?" he asked with a smile. "It wasn't your centrefold body or anything like that; it was your personality." His smile widened as he saw the surprise on her face. "You were so very different from me; you were always the life of the party, while I was the fly on the wall. I was attracted to you like a moth to a flame." He saw the tears that had pooled in her eyes. "The smallest glimpse of your smiling, cheerful face gave me the courage, the strength that I lacked. Soon, I did something impossible; I asked you out, and imagine my surprise when you accepted!" "It only got better from there," he said with a laugh, "I was on cloud nine when you agreed to marry me." His eyes got a faraway look as he recalled the memory. "I was the luckiest man on earth when we got married and I vowed to myself to always keep you happy." He smiled to himself. "I would work harder than ever. I would spend hours at the gym. I would get you anything you desired. Just because I had you; you gave me the strength to tackle the biggest problems with a smile on my face."

Fresh tears started pouring out of her eyes. Her cheeks held a blush that ran across the bridge of her nose. As she heard him speak, she realised that she had a gem of a man. A misunderstood man.

"It all changed, the second time I caught you..." he said with a frown. His eyes were downcast. "Somehow, I got through the self-doubt that had stemmed from your betrayal the first time. But I just wasn't able to handle it all the second time." His fists were shaking, clenched tightly. He controlled himself and looked at her sadly. "You were my kryptonite... and you did a bang-up job." His throat felt dry and his voice was low. "I realised, I was done with you. I realised, I needed to make you feel the same hurt that I did. I realised, there wasn't an 'us' anymore."

His words cut through her like sharp knives. Did he hate her that much? He wouldn't meet her gaze, or he would have seen the hurt, the regret and the misery in them.

"I started with your friends," he spat out. "I had always hated those narcissistic bitches and their husbands. I just had to tell them about our... arrangement and seduce only one of them. The rest fell into the palm of my hand. They served as an outlet for my rage towards you." He looked at her for a split-second, then turned away. "It wasn't long, before you caught wind of me and your friends going behind your back... and you tried to get back at us by trying to fuck their husbands or boyfriends." He let a small smirk surface on his face, before it was replaced by a frown. "Too bad for you, your friends had cut all ties with you and had warned their men..." He saw the look of disbelief on her face. He added, "I only slept with the single ones; I still had some of my morals left... and trust me, the married ones did try to get a hold of me, even though I was adamant."

She didn't have words. She just stared at him with wide, horrified eyes. Just who was this man?

His face had a look of disgust. "Then, the reality of the situation settled in; after I had successfully driven a wedge between you and your friends, I realised what I had turned into." His tone was hurt... shameful. "Despite all the raunchy sex I got, I couldn't bring myself to enjoy any of it." He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "None of those women... none of them were my wife. I wasn't in love with them; it was just empty, self-satisfying sex. I wasn't making love to any of them, but using them as nothing more than an outlet for physical release. I had turned into a fucking man-whore."

He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, to gaze into her teary, sorrowful ones. "Those men you fucked... were just using you as a cheap whore; only a body they could degrade to their hearts' content, without any care. None of them loved you. None of them made love to you; they had their wives or girlfriends for that."

She cried openly at his hurtful words.

He berated himself for being too harsh on her. She had suffered enough as it was, he thought.

He went to her and cradled her head in his arms. He whispered sweet nothings in her ears. He apologised to her. He told her it was going to be alright.

For all she had said and done to him, it was unbearable for him to watch her shed even a single tear.

For all the love he felt for her, this had to be done.

"I know it, damn it!" she screamed in his arms. Her tears had stopped, but she was still hurting. "I know what I was to them." Her voice was a low whisper; a painful hiss. "I know what I did was more than wrong; it's unforgivable... I know... I know I took you for granted."

"Shh..." He silenced her with a finger to her lips. "All that is behind us, okay? Wasn't this morning enough of a proof?" He got a lopsided grin on his face. "Besides, it's my turn to speak."