Disengagement

Final Product

Disengagement

[ˌdisənˈɡājmənt]

NOUN

disengagement (noun)

1. the action or process of withdrawing from involvement in a particular activity, situation, or group.

a. the withdrawal of military forces or the renunciation of military or political influence in a particular area.

b. the process of separating or releasing something or of becoming separated or released.

2. emotional detachment; objectivity.

It was the Saturday after our twenty-fifth anniversary, and we were cuddling on the couch, naked under our aging wedding blanket. We lay there, cooling down from an unusually extended lovemaking session. The whole thing had been particularly intense, from the energetic animalism of the first round to the sweet, almost spiritual lovemaking at the finish.

Even at those times when we hadn't just had sex, it had always been our favorite way to spend a quiet evening together. Over the many years of life together, we frequently found time to share this intimacy, this loving tenderness.

That day I held my wife, the love of my life, on my lap, our wedding blanket wrapped warmly around us. As I stroked her still-taut belly and kissed her still-smooth neck, she snuggled in closer, burying her face in my chest. The wetness of her womb leaking our love onto my leg was soon matched by her tears on my chest. The quiet sound of her sighs in my ears filled me with a dark sense of foreboding, and my heart dropped in fear. She trembled faintly, as if cold or in the grip of some overwhelming passion.

There is no more debilitating fear a man can experience than to see the impending loss of his soul's companion looming ever larger, growing day by day. I had been carrying this fear around all our married life. It had been especially intense this last year, the twenty-fifth of our marriage. Today was the day when it would come to fruition.

I sighed deeply, feeling the heaviness in my heart, my limbs now weighty, like tree branches. A coldness flowed through me; my mind fell numb.

Tina haltingly disengaged from our cuddling and stood up to put on her robe. Tears were running down her face as she covered her body. She stumbled as she knelt on the floor between my knees and rested her face on my leg. My coldness intensified; my leaden heart filled with winter.

"Sam, I have loved you for almost twenty-seven years," she said, not looking at me. Her tears fell heavily on my bare leg. "I have been your wife, lover, companion, and co-parent. I have given you everything of myself you ever needed or wanted, and I have, until recently, been happy, really happy." She paused, breathing raggedly.

"Things have changed for me, though, and now I need something from you." She looked up at me then, trepidation filling her face. This long-awaited moment was upon us. Upon me.

My heart, frozen, broke.

She must have seen the rupture because, finally, anguish flowed over her face and clung like a death mask. She sobbed, once, loudly, then lowered her eyes. Her tears pattered down on my leg like a hot rain shower.

"I have fallen in love with someone else," she said quietly, barely whispering. "I...I need to follow my heart." Her hands gripped my legs tightly. She sobbed again, then said, "I have been unfaithful to you with this man, and I am sorry for that. You deserve a better ending, a much better ending than that, and I'm so terribly sorry!" Her affirmation hit me like a punch in the gut. It became difficult to breathe. Profound sadness won out over intense rage. I felt lost, adrift in the void.

I stroked her hair softly, one last touch, one last loving moment. I stood up, causing her to tumble back away from me, her legs sprawled open. I could see the semen leaking from her. I used the faded blanket to cover my nakedness. I moved away from her so she wouldn't touch me anymore.

"I know," I ground out, looking down at her. Her head jerked up, and she looked at me with eyes round in surprise. "I've known from the beginning, maybe from the very first time you fucked him," I bit off, my anger rising to replace the pain. She moaned, and her face flushed crimson. She covered her mouth with her hands.

"You knew? How...how did you know? I tried very hard to protect you from finding out about this," she said. I felt my anger rising, and I pushed down on it hard. I steeled myself to just get through the next few minutes without hurting her more than necessary. To cleanly disengage and move on.

"If you really wanted to protect me," I replied as evenly as I could, "you would have stayed loyal to me. Just as I have been to you." She jerked back as if slapped. "Or, you would have told me all this before you fucked that asshole that used to be my friend."

She rose to her feet, clutching her robe around herself tightly and started to speak, maybe in her defense. I waved her silent and explained some facts of life.

"I've known this day would come since the day we got married," I said. "That asshole told me on our wedding day that he was in love with you and would be waiting around for me to fuck it up so he could step in and take you from me.

I've known about every run he's made at you over the years. Every. Single. One," I bit the words off with sharp bitterness. "Why do you think we've always lived somewhere conveniently far away from him? Until now." I stopped, momentarily adrift on a sea of pain and anger. I took a deep breath. "I suppose I grew tired of running, of fighting for our family by myself."

"But I never gave in, Sam, I swear! All the years! I worked really hard to resist, to focus on my love for you and our family."

"Until a year ago," I said. The anger was fighting hard to push its way to the top, to dominate me. I clamped down on it even harder. I clung to the coldness, the numbness.

"Until a year ago," she agreed. At least she had the grace to look ashamed.

I dropped the blanket to the floor, then stepped on it as I walked over to retrieve my robe.

"Do you remember how you explained the rules of engagement, as you called them, to me when we became engaged?" I asked. She looked at me, confused. "Well, now I'm going to explain the rules of disengagement to you, and you must listen carefully. Ready?" She nodded. I took a deep breath to calm myself then laid it out for her as I had rehearsed so many times since finding out she was going to do this.

"I love you, Tina. I love you with everything I have in me, and it's destroying me inside for you to do this to me. First, you betrayed me, and now you are abandoning me. That hurts like I can't even begin to tell you.

Nonetheless, I want you to be happy, and you think this is what you need, so I will go along with it. I'm going to give you the opportunity to 'start over again' with Trevor." Her eyes widened in shock. "Well, isn't that what the two of you have talked about over and over again for the last six months? In between rounds of fucking? In between those marvelous blow jobs that used to be only for me?" Her expression morphed into horror.

"I never wanted you to know about any of that!" she wailed. "I never wanted to hurt you that much. Oh, God, I'm going to be sick!" she said. Her face paled, and she dropped to one knee, propping herself up with her hands. Ghastly choking sounds came from her throat as she fought against vomiting.

I felt a momentary urge to go to her, to lift her up and comfort her, but I crushed that impulse ruthlessly. I welcomed contempt in its place. She would find comfort with Trevor now, not me.

I had been preparing for the last four months. Now that the moment had arrived, I just needed to execute the plan.

I turned abruptly on my heel, strode to the office, and retrieved my briefcase. I pulled an accordion folder from it and laid it on the table next to the couch.

"These are a courtesy copy of the divorce papers and my lawyer's business card. Call her if you want to be served anywhere but at work. I didn't know where else they might find you after today." I paused, looking at her intently until she glanced up and nodded in miserable understanding.

"OK," I said softly, trying for firm neutrality, "the rules of disengagement: First, if I ever see Trevor again, I will kill him. In that very moment and with whatever means are at hand, I will kill him. Do you understand this?" She stood there, body shaking, with her head down, not moving. "Seriously," I said, taking her gently by the shoulders. She looked up and into my eyes. "Please take that seriously. I don't think you want to be left with both of us out of your life, right? I promise you that I won't go looking for him, but I won't hold back if I come across him accidentally." She nodded slowly, eyes wide. I dropped my hands and turned my back on her.

"Second rule: You will leave immediately, as soon as you can put on clothes and pack a bag. You will drive away in the sixty-thousand dollar car I bought you and never look back. I will make sure you get everything else that is yours as soon as I can.

Third rule: I will never be here for you after today. You have betrayed me and are abandoning me, and I will never forgive or forget that. I will never do the slightest thing for you. Not ever.

The fourth and final rule of disengagement: Never try to contact me after today. You have given me up, and I need room to start rebuilding my life without you in it. If you have anything important to tell me, call my lawyer or our daughter." I paused, letting her absorb the new reality of our lives.

"Do you understand?" I asked as I turned to face her for the last time.

She nodded, head still down. She was gasping faintly as if it was hard for her to breath.

"I am truly sorry, Sam," she started, but I turned and walked away. I heard her breath catch as I went into the office and closed the door. I didn't want to listen to what she had to say anymore.

I had heard it all before from her and Trevor, anyway. Hours and hours of video and audio carefully combed through by a private investigator. He pulled out the relevant parts for me to review. I never watched or listened to the parts of them having sex, thank God. I probably would have just killed both of them and then myself.

I texted our daughter, Sarah, that the deed was done and that she could come tomorrow to pack her mother's things. Sarah would make sure she received them wherever Tina ultimately landed. She responded with a sad face emoji. Yeah, so sad.

I emailed my lawyer to proceed as planned, then settled in to watch the security system video and track my soon-to-be-ex-wife's progress. My mind, like a dog gnawing an old bone, drifted back, seeing flashes of our life together. Happy memories interlaced with the biter moments of the last year. Anger surged in, then sorrow. Sorrow turned to despair, which tried to overwhelm me.

I watched, through bleary tear-filled eyes, as the only woman I had ever loved sobbed on the floor for five minutes or so. She then staggered to her feet and moved in a slow death-march to our marital bedroom. There were no cameras in the bedroom, so I stared silently at the empty doorway for the fifteen minutes it took her to pack.

When she came back through the door, I suffered a powerful surge of longing, and I shot to my feet as if to run to her, to stop her, to beg her. I stood swaying, fists clenched, fighting the desire.

She came out and, gripping her overnight bag, makeup kit, and purse with white-knuckled hands moved through the front door onto the porch. Setting her baggage down, she turned and looked silently into the house for a moment, pain and indecision etched into her blotchy, tear-stained face. Then she closed the door on our life together.

After locking the door, she collapsed into a sitting position on the porch, weeping. Part of me felt a vicious joy at her suffering and hoped she was hurting herself as much as she was hurting me. The rest just wanted her to go, to get away so I could start the moving on process.

Finally, she got herself and her baggage into her car and drove away.

***

I spent the next five years on the move while the firestorm raged in the courts. When I became certain that Tina planned to leave me, I sold all our property to a friend and liquidated our investments (including the current value of my pension). There was no way in hell I was going to allow Trevor to benefit from our life together.

The proceeds from the sales and liquidations I used to buy Bitcoin. It wasn't much, just under a million dollars. Not much to show for a lifetime together.

I converted some of it to the local currency wherever I was as needed. I stayed away from population centers, and spent a lot of time fishing, camping, relaxing on the beach. I hiked a lot, regaining much of the lean physique of my youth.

When Tina found out that I had literally left nothing behind except the things I told her I would, she (or maybe it was Trevor) freaked out, demanding that I produce her half of our life's savings. My attorney insisted that he knew nothing of the money (true) and that he didn't even know where I was (also true). As instructed by the judge, he told me every time I called that I had to respond to the court. A bench warrant was eventually issued for my appearance, but I had already left the country. The divorce was settled by the court pretty much as my lawyer thought it would be, but Tina had no way to collect.

Surprisingly, Tina hung in there with Trevor far longer than I thought she would. According to our daughter, Tina discovered that Trevor was far harder to live with than to fuck. After they split up, she lived with our daughter and son-in-law for two years, dependent on them for everything.

Once I heard that Trevor was out of the picture, I sent Tina her portion of the divorce settlement. Why, you ask? Well, she did earn it right along with me for all those years. I wasn't trying to rob her of our life together, just Trevor. She had punished herself enough by losing both of her great loves. I loved her enough to not pile on, I guess.

I did spend the first year or so mourning the death of our marriage. How could I not? It was my whole life, my entire way of thinking for so many years. I treated it like a death in the family, though, and eventually got over it. Just like a dead person, I have never seen or heard from her since that last time together. Just like a dead person, I never will.

I did meet a decent widow woman four months ago, and we seem compatible. She invited me to move in with her last week, and I believe I will do just that.

I'm pretty sure I'm falling in love with her, but I don't have any goals or expectations. If she lets me stay, I'll stay. If she tells me to go, I'll go. If she says she loves me, I'll accept it, but not rely on it. I'm neither accepting promises from her nor am I giving any out. I'm not stupid enough to think all women are like Tina, but there's just something in me that won't allow me to extend myself to anyone in that way, at least for now.

I do sometimes wonder how my life might have been if I hadn't spent so many years running from Trevor. What would my life have been like if I had confronted the problem from the beginning? Would she have left me for him all the earlier, or would she have cut him out of our life entirely? Maybe nothing would have been different, after all. I'll never know, but I do ponder.