February Sucks: Same Old Me (3of4)

She was weeping openly, her voice catching at odd places.

"I gave you that chance when I married you. And you blew it."

"No! No! I can make it up to you!"

"How could you possibly make it up to me, Linda? What could you do? Weren't you already trying to be the best wife you could be? What would you start doing differently?"

I deliberately had NOT said 'besides not having sex with other men,' though I think she heard the implication anyway.

"I don't know." She sniffled, then looked up at me. "I know February was really tough, all right? I was kind of snippy, I admit that. I'd try to do better."

"You said you were going to do that anyway. That's part of what our night out was supposed to have been, remember?"

"I do."

"Do you think that trying not to be snippy is going to make it up to me?"

"I... um. No."

"Then what do you think would do the trick? Making your meatloaf more often? Dressing up for me? More lingerie like the stuff you left in the hotel room and never wore because you were off having sex with your Asshole boyfriend? Maybe bringing blowjobs back into our sex life? You must have gone down on him like you would for a new lover, but you haven't done that for me in years. Seriously, Linda, I don't see a way back from this. You're already supposed to have been trying. I was, too. That's always been the deal. Saying you plan on starting NOW isn't going to help. Especially not if your best efforts so far have led us here."

"Jim," said Susan, "Remember what you agreed to. Try not to be disparaging."

"Sorry. Right. Okay."

"You're being very expressive about how you feel, and that's good. But Linda wants to know how she can make amends. What would mitigate the damage you feel she's done to the relationship and to you, personally? Be honest. Tell her how you feel."

I closed my eyes.

"Linda. The only thing you could possibly do to make anything any better is to go back in time and un-fuck him. Make it so that this had never happened and never would. Do brain surgery on yourself to take away whatever instincts let you do this. But you can't do that. You wouldn't want to even if you could. You loved it and you're proud of yourself for doing it. You've proven to yourself and the entire world that you're desirable, and powerful, and validated, and free. This has been the high point of your life. I can see it. It's all you've been thinking about. You wouldn't change a thing. You just wish I felt differently about it. The only thing you regret is what it's costing you.

"Here it is: Marc LaValliere is always going to be at the center of the story of Jim and Linda. Not how we met. Not our first date, or our wedding, or our honeymoon, or the birth of Emma or Tommy... it's THIS. He is now the sun around which our relationship orbits. You ditched me for sex with a stranger without a moment's hesitation and expected me to just... stay home and wait for you to be done. You're still doing it! Fuck that. I can't. He's always going to be there. Every time I look at you, I see you leaving. I see you fucking him, not me, and it makes me sick. I can't imagine touching you like that ever again. That is who you are to me now. What's worse is that it's who you've always been! Same Old Linda As Always! That is all I see! Do you hear me? I CAN'T. I CAN'T DO IT."

We were both in tears at that point, eyes wide open, sitting apart from each other, neither one of us willing to close the gap.

"I wasn't expecting you to be gone," she said. "I thought you'd be home. We agreed. You'd be home and we would talk. I didn't know where you were. How do you think I felt?"

I goggled at her. If my jaw hadn't flopped on the floor, I wouldn't have known where it was.

"'We agreed'?!?! No. Fuck No. I didn't agree to anything. You passed along word, secondhand, that you'd probably be home sometime the next day, but you didn't say when. I did not agree to wait for you. I did not agree for you to run off with him in the first place. 'We agreed,' MY ASS."

"Jim," said Susan, "Remember, we want to build empathy. Please. Try not to strike out at her."

I took several breaths and nodded.

"Now, Jim. You asked her what it would have felt like if she were in your place. Now, she's asking the same. How do you think she felt, when she found you'd left the house? Talk to her, not me."

"How do I think you felt. Huh. How do I think you felt? Well, I think you felt disappointed, and probably pretty scared. The situation had gone out of your control. You expected me to be sitting at home waiting for you, having not slept at all, having beaten my head against the walls all night, crying and screaming and breaking things and you'd find me waiting, a broken shell of a man, and I'd babble it all out, all the hurt, all the rage, all the pain. You'd patiently listen, and nod, and cry with me as I let it out. Then, when I'd exhausted myself and could no longer speak or stand, you'd take me into your arms and hold me and I'd cling to you, damning you and needing you and letting you be my everything once again. And then you'd pet my head and smile, knowing that you'd WON.

"You were looking forward to that. You figured it'd be a challenge, and you'd have to promise me the moon, but you needed to get me back under your control, playing your game by your rules. You'd always have your magic night of amazing wild sex to look back on for the rest of your life, maybe rub out a few reliable orgasms to the memory once in a while. Maybe you'd fantasize about him while you were in bed with me. You'd feed on the validation you'd gotten AND you'd still get to keep your stupid, trusting, boring, faithful-as-a-dog husband, too. You'd have it all. That's what you wanted.

"So, when you didn't find me broken and weeping and begging for you to heal me, you probably went into panic mode. You're still there. That's what you're still going for- Damage Control. Well, I'm not going along with it. I'm not going to let you Abuse me like that. I'm NOT. So now you're frightened, disoriented, and desperate, just like I was. And I dearly, DEARLY hope it's beginning to occur to you just how badly you fucked up- how far off the rails you've knocked our marriage."

Linda was just shaking her head slightly as tears poured down her cheeks. "No, no, no, no..." she whispered under her breath.

"I hope you're worried that you've lost me. Because you did."

She broke down and started sobbing uncontrollably, throwing herself into my arms, burying her face in my shirt. She was shaking all over. I'd never seen her so undone, or even imagined she could be. I wrapped my arms around her. Even if I hadn't loved her, I'd have done at least that much. Finally, I could make out words through her sobbing.

"I never meant this... never, never this! I didn't go looking for this, never. Him or anyone. You know I didn't, you saw it all. I never would have done that. I... I... I love you so much, Jim, and want you. Only you. Jim, please believe me. Please tell me I didn't ruin everything. I'll die if I have, Jim, truly I will. You're the strong one, Jim. Please tell me we can fix this. Please give me some hope. Please, dear Jim, please tell me you love me."

I sighed. I couldn't see her face, but I could still feel her shaking. My eyes filled as I grieved over what we once had. Still, I couldn't lie or avoid her request.

"I do love you, Linda." My tears fell into her hair, as hers soaked my shirt. But all of our tears, and I knew there were many more tears in our future, would never wash out what she did that night. It would always be a part of us. Then I said what I'd really come to say, and I laid the foundation for the end of our marriage.

"Sometimes love isn't enough, honey. We can love people who are bad for us. We can love people who don't treat us right. Sometimes we have to push them away to save ourselves. It happens all the time. When battered women love their abusers, sometimes it gets them killed. You know that. Well, you abused our relationship, and my emotions, and my trust. You meant to do it. You were counting on me to take the hit. You still are. I can't stay with you like that. Not if that's how you treat me. I can't."

That brought on another serving of unhinged tears. We were both crying for about ten minutes before Susan spoke up.

"Okay. It's clear you have both been through something traumatic, and you're processing the trauma differently. The good news is that lots of marriages can survive infidelity. The fact of extramarital sex isn't as important as what caused it, or what led up to it, or the secrecy or lack of intimacy surrounding it.

"In almost every case, it starts with a quiet rift between the couple somewhere, which leads to emotional distancing. That leads to feelings of isolation, betrayal, and abandonment, which creates a need to feel validated, appreciated, and loved. That's what creates the conditions for an affair that's emotional, or physical, or both.

"What's remarkable is that in your case, there was apparently nothing leading up to Linda's going away with Mr. LaValliere. There was no real secrecy about it, either. This seems to have happened suddenly, out of nowhere, right out in the open, and each of you are reacting in your own way, as your minds and hearts demand.

"Linda. You are in a state of Denial. You've been refusing to look at what happened and consider the consequences. You've been telling Jim that how you feel about him hasn't changed, but that's only one component of your relationship. His feelings about you HAVE changed. You've revealed a side of yourself that he's never seen before, and maybe you haven't either. Jim is not going to be able to see you, or your marriage, the same way. The relationship you had before is over. There is no going back. There's only what comes next. You haven't been able to face that yet. When you can, we'll be able to make some progress, but we don't know how things will actually work out."

Linda looked absolutely despondent. Of course, that's how she looked before Susan said any of that. I don't know how much of it registered.

"Jim. Your instinct is to Escape. You fled the situation, not only because you find it unacceptable, but because you lack any reference for how to deal with it. You're disoriented and in a state of shock. Avoidance is a common response to trauma. You may be experiencing a form of PTSD, and it's likely to persist until the trauma is addressed and resolved, and unfortunately... that may never fully happen.

"Now then. Underneath all of this, the issue you're both concerned with is the possibility of forgiveness. Linda, you need to understand that you're not simply owed Jim's forgiveness. It may not be forthcoming, at least, not anytime soon. Forgiveness can only come at the END of a long process of healing that hasn't even begun yet. Jim, in my opinion, I think it would be healthy if you do forgive Linda, when you're ready. Not because she deserves it, and not to save the marriage. You're a long way from being capable of forgiving her, and I recognize that. But however many months or years it takes, you'll do it for your own sake. Not hers. You will someday come to a place where you're able to let go of the anger and the hurt. You'll do it for yourself and for your own future. You'll want to put it behind you and move on with your life, whatever that will look like, whether you two remain married or not."

That felt better. That felt right. Linda, however, was fit to be tied.

"Wait. Isn't it your JOB to save this marriage? You are a MARRIAGE counselor, aren't you? So, so... counsel him and make him come around!"

"Linda. I can't save a marriage. No one can do that but the people in it. I can facilitate the communication and the healing, if both partners are committed to work towards that. But if the relationship is fundamentally unhealthy, or if either one of you doesn't want to remain married, then no. There's nothing I can do but try to make things less painful when it ends. And honestly, with you two, it's too early for me to tell which way it will go. Even if I tried to guess, you might still surprise me. This incident is too raw, too recent, and neither one of you is behaving the way you normally have in your marriage. Isn't that right?"

We both nodded through our tears, still somehow clinging to each other.

"Well, believe it or not, this is encouraging. There is common ground between you, and that's what we want to cultivate. Linda. Is there anything else you need to say to Jim, while you're close like this?"

Finally. Susan is prompting Linda to apologize. She's noticed that she hasn't, yet.

"You didn't have to tell my parents."

Fuck.

I pulled away from her. She leaned back to glare at me.

"That's where we're going now? Fine. Okay. Why not tell your parents?"

"It's private. It's personal. It's between us. It doesn't concern them."

"It wasn't private or personal, you did it in public, at Morrison's, in front of all our friends. You got Dee to help you, and Jane and Helen were defending you. You ditched me right in front of god and everybody. If the paparazzi had been there, it would have made the tabloids. You don't get to claim that it's private, and even if it was, I don't owe it to you to keep your secret. And your parents? They're part of our family. They were there at our wedding. They've taken me in as a son. If our marriage is on the line, they deserve to know."

"It's embarrassing."

"You were NOT embarrassed about it. You were proud of it. You still are. You're going to be bragging about it to your girlfriends for the rest of your life. They were all happy for you. Don't bother to deny it. We both know it's true."

"Why'd you have to tell the kids?"

"I had to tell them something. And we agreed to teach them that lying is wrong."

"You shouldn't have tried to turn them against me."

"I didn't turn them against you. What are you talking about?"

"You taught them to call Marc an 'Asshole.' That was cheap. I swear I've never heard the word 'Asshole' so many times in one week, and it's coming from my CHILDREN. I don't want them saying anything like that. They finally stopped when I yelled at them enough."

"That's not turning them against YOU. It's turning them against HIM. I have every right to do that. I don't want your asshole boyfriend anywhere near them."

"Marc is not an Asshole, and he's not my boyfriend."

"Anybody who takes a married woman away from her husband like it's his god-given right to do so is ABSOLUTELY an Asshole. And I didn't think the word 'fuckbuddy' or 'human dildo' was age-appropriate."

"Marc was a perfect gentleman. He treated me with respect."

"JESUS. Abducting you for a night of loveless sex does not demonstrate respect."

"I mean, he didn't mistreat me at all. Far from it. He treated me like a lady, opening doors for me and everything. He even remembered my name the next morning, which surprised me. He was Perfectly Chivalrous."

What.

The.

Fuck.

My blood had turned to ice. I was absolutely motionless. I was absolutely silent. Any hope that I had for a civil relationship with this... person... evaporated like fog on a mirror. Susan noticed.

"Jim?"

"Doctor Manette." I couldn't see. My vision had turned red. My voice echoed back at me as if from the end of a long tunnel. "Please inform this woman that if she wishes to be in my good graces, then PRAISING AND DEFDENDING THAT MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH ASSHOLE PIECE OF SHIT FUCK is NOT the way to FUCKING do it!"

I was up and out the door before either of them could even rise from their seats. I heard my name shouted several times behind me as doors slammed and re-opened behind me. I have no memory of getting into my car or driving away, but I was doing nearly eighty before I came to my senses and pulled into a parking lot before the cops got me. I shut down the car and realized I'd been hyperventilating.

She'd said 'Jim, your instinct is to Escape.' No shit.

'Chivalrous.' FUCK.

He opened the door for her. FUCK.

FUCK FUCK FUCK.

If there was ever a time when I would have driven off a bridge, this was it. This was somehow worse than last Friday. Then, I was alone. Linda didn't have the courage to face me. Now, here she was, in my face, insisting that I was the unreasonable one. Blithely assuming that I needed to be corrected like some fucking child. I was the stupid jealous husband who'd given her every ounce of my love and devotion for ten years, and HE was the Good Guy. He's a GENTLEMAN because he was noble enough to REMEMBER HER GODDAMN NAME.

FUCK YOU LINDA.

FUCK YOU.

My flight to Atlanta wasn't until the morning. I had been planning on going to the house tonight, spending some time with Emma and Tommy, maybe staying for dinner if Linda had managed to pull her head even partway out of her own ass. Then I was going to spend the night at the airport hotel and I'd be out of town. Well, fuck that. Change of plans.

Emma and Tommy were at daycare. Maybe if I got there right away, Linda wouldn't think to look for me there first. Maybe Susan held her back. But I had to see them. Our home was broken and nothing would ever be the same. I might miss their entire childhoods. I had to see them before I left, even if the bitch tried to confront me again.

I was at the daycare almost immediately. "I'm not taking them now," I explained to Jessica as Emma and Tommy swarmed me and hugged my knees and cried, "Do NOT call my wife. I'm not here, okay? I was never here. I just need to talk to them for a minute."

"Um. Okay. They're about to have their snacks."

Emma and Tommy were babbling at me, demanding to know where I'd been. Tommy was echoing his older sister and she was crying and they were both crying.

"Emma. Tommy. Listen to me. Listen. Listen."

There were tears and snot running down their faces.

"Daddy, are you taking us home? Are you going to be home now? When are you coming home with us?" Emma was beside herself. Fuck.

"Listen. Mommy was playing with me, like Elsa was playing with Anna when she got hurt in 'Frozen,' Remember? Elsa was casting her ice power and she hit Elsa in the head and really hurt her."

Emma nodded her head, her face still dripping. Tommy followed her lead.

"When Anna got hurt, they had to take her out of the castle and go find the Trolls. Remember that? The Trolls would know how to help. Well, Mommy hurt me. She didn't have ice power, but she has the power that women have over men. She hurt me with it. She hurt me really badly. She didn't hurt my Head. She hurt my Heart. Do you understand? She hurt my Heart and now I'm sick and hurt and dying and I have to go find the Trolls... or something like them. I have to get out and find help."

I'd been thinking about this. They know that movie backwards and forwards. Maybe they could see, maybe they could understand, just a little bit.

Emma looked me dead in the eye, tears still wet on her face, and gravely said "You're Not lucky it was your Heart. The heart is not so easily changed, but the head can be persuaded," paraphrasing the movie almost perfectly.

"How did you get so smart?"

"I have a smart Daddy."

"I love you so much. I am so proud of you, my girl."

"But... you're gonna go?"

"That's right. This is the part of the story where I have to go away and get stronger. I have to leave home and find my friends, like Simba found Timon and Pumba. Like Merida left home and found her mother, the bear. Like Jazmine left the Sultan's Palace and found Aladdin and Carpet and Genii. This is what's happening now. I have to leave my home and find my friends and heal and get stronger so I can come back. Do you understand? Tell me you understand."

She was nodding the whole time I was talking. Disney movies might seem like trite nonsense, but they actually seem to provide some kind of moral education. My children had seen them enough to have earned advanced degrees in that subject.