February Sucks - The Bus

First off, please never think that I don't love you. I was stupid and forgot how much I love you, but I do love you, and your absence over these past few weeks has shown me how much. When I heard you were in the hospital because of what I had done, I screamed, when I heard it was you that was hit by that bus outside the hotel I wanted to die. It should have been me that was injured, knocked over by that bus. And it should have been me that almost died; you didn't deserve anything I did to you.

Jim, I love you with all my heart. That will never change. However, no more can I claim to be your perfect wife. I didn't just break you, and I see that now; I also broke me. And honestly, I don't know how to put either of us back together. But, if I could give anything of myself to make you whole again, I would without a moment's hesitation.

I cannot express how sorry I am that I ruined our night out, February drove us all a bit crazy, and this was supposed to be our night out to be just us. I dressed that night for you and you alone. I can't believe how I sullied that night. To let you know, I've burned that dress and the lingerie from that night. I don't deserve those things. I gave them to someone else when they were meant for you, so I got rid of them.

And Jim, I'm sorry, I took him back to our room, again I wasn't thinking, I never thought you would turn up to the room. I don't know why I assumed that, but when your mother told me what happened. Well, I think I have a small understanding of how much you hate me, having heard what you heard.

Jim, I'm sorry, but I want to talk about Marc for a minute and what I did. When Marc approached the table, I swooned. I felt all my logical thinking go out the window. Here was a local football hero wanting to dance with me. I hate to say it, but I never thought about you or the kids. I thought only with my uterus. To my eternal shame, I became a slut. When Marc asked me to slip away, I don't know why I said yes. I asked Dee to cover for me and let you know that I loved you and it would be alright. I naively thought I'd come home, and we'd reconnect. How stupid that sounds now. I broke something precious to me for what feels like forever and completely.

I need to let you know. Marc was not a better lover than you. In many ways, he was inferior, but he did know how to fuck. That word is so disgusting in my mouth now, fuck. Marc fucked me. Yes, he was strong and powerful, but he was selfish. Disgracefully, at the time, I did enjoy it. But I know now it was nothing compared to what we once shared. As part of my humiliation, I have gone and gotten an STD test, and while I know it makes sense that you will never touch me again, I'm clear. While Marc was arrogant, he wasn't cruel, and I don't have any feelings of love for him, now I find that I dislike him quite a lot.

If he asked me to leave you for him, I would say no, even if we didn't have Emma and Tommy. If I could go back in time, I would corner Dee and myself in that bathroom and slap myself to stop me from making the single biggest mistake of my life walking out with him. And Jim, you need to know you did absolutely nothing wrong. You are the perfect husband, father and lover. All of this, it's all one hundred per cent on me.

Hearing about you in hospital and the injuries I caused over the past couple of weeks has been torture. Most of my waking thoughts and many of my dreams have been coming to support you. My dreams torture me with your broken body, and I wake screaming most nights. I am broken that you're hurt, and I can't help you heal and worse, I am the one who hurt you.

The one ray of light in this gloom I have dragged us into has been your mother, Ruth has not given me an inch of grace since the moment she arrived, but neither has she stopped helping me. Your mother is one of the most upstanding women I know. If this is the end of my life with you, then I will try to model my next life around your mother's example.

Lastly, I expect my infidelity and my actions will lead to our divorce. Jim, I won't stand in the way, and I won't fight it. You may keep the house and have primary custody of the kids; I don't deserve to come between you and them. I ask you to allow my visitation because I love them almost as much as I love you. When you serve me, please let me know? I'd prefer it to be private rather than public, but if you feel the need to humiliate me because that is what I did to you, I will accept it publicly.

As I stated initially, I am sorry, sorrier than I can ever express. I hold onto the hope that you can forgive me, and to use that at the close of this letter is selfish, but it is my desire.

I will always love you. My heart, regardless, will always remain yours.

Your stupid and regretful wife

Linda

I reread the letter again, and then a third time. Emotionally I had no idea where I was. I expected Linda to be proud and arrogant or brush responsibility under the rug with the classic 'I only love you,' or 'we'll be stronger after this'. But what I just read came across as someone who was living in pain and regret. They wanted permission to own their mistake and didn't blame me at all.

I also re-read the part where she noted that Marc wasn't as good a lover as I was, and I had to smile.

Mom came back in and looked at my smile.

"I take it the letter wasn't all doom and gloom?" she asked.

"I'd be lying if I said parts of it didn't hurt. But I also know Linda is hurting almost as much as I am. Although, perhaps emotionally, she's hurting more.

"She is Jim, and I want you to listen to something." Mom pulled out her phone and played most of the conversation between Dee and Linda a couple of days ago. My jaw dropped as I listened to her tell Dee off. First, I winced at her broken glass comment. Then I smiled again when she described that I ran rings around Marc in bed.

"She's hurting Jim. She knows she did wrong, and Linda wants to hold you, but she also knows your discussion about one and done and expects your life together is over."

I thought for a minute. I knew a couple of tears ran down my cheeks. I didn't care. Mom watched me.

"Mom, I miss my wife. I don't want her gone, I want to throttle her, yes, but there is an old question of people who have been cheated on. Am I better off with her in my life or without her? I am incredibly hurt, but I know I'm better with her. I just don't know how to make that happen."

Mom smiled.

"I do," she looked to the door, "Linda!" she said loudly.

In a moment in the doorway stood a very diminutive version of my wife, she very hesitantly came forward, and fresh tears started falling from her face as she looked at me lying in the hospital bed.

"Jim?" she said quietly.

"Linda," I chocked out. I hadn't seen her in weeks, and unlike the woman who walked out on me, this woman looked split between locking herself with handcuffs to my bed and running crying out of the room. Ruth stood up and guided Linda to the chair beside the bed.

For a few minutes, Linda looked at my casts and the wires running up out of my hospital gown and then up to my eyes. Her eyes we full of worry, pain and fear. "Does it hurt?" she asked.

"Nah," I responded, "it's all fake to make you feel bad." I winked at her.

She gulped and almost bolted. Ruth held her in the chair.

"Jim," she scolded me, "Linda is taking a big risk coming here."

I looked at my pitiful wife. "I'm sorry, Linda, I couldn't resist. Honestly, I've still got some great pain mediation being fed into me, but I'm itchy under the casts."

Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed my good hand, "Oh baby, what have I done!" she broke down, "What have I done!" she repeated over and over. But she never let go of my hand. I squeezed it, and she stopped and looked at me.

I sighed. It was time to stand up to the vow, for better or worse. I knew in that instant that I was better with her than without her. I gave her a small smile. "Linda, I need you."

With that one small statement, she stopped crying and stood from the chair, looking at Ruth. "Ruth, could you please grab the kids from Mrs Porter and take them home for the night? I need to be here with my husband." Then, she smiled ruefully at me, understanding that she may have crossed a line by taking charge, "Regardless of the outcome."

I watched as my mother smiled. She came over and hugged Linda, then whispered something to her. Mom then kissed me on the forehead and headed off.

After she left, I asked, "What did mom say?"

She looked scared, "She told me that if I hurt you again, there was no place in this word far enough away for me to hide where she wouldn't find me and string my entrails from the nearest fence post."

Then she smiled.

"Then she told me to look after my husband."

For the next hour, Linda and I talked about my injuries, what treatment was and what needed to happen for my recovery moving forward. Eventually, we fell into an awkward silence.

"Jim?"

I looked at her. Some of the worries had disappeared. But there was still a lot of fear.

"What about us?" she asked, her voice was shaking.

I sighed, "I don't know Linda, do I love you, yes. I know you love me, and I know how regretful you are. I want us to get past this, but there is a big problem. Do you know what I mean?"

I looked at her, she nodded.

"Trust." She spoke.

"Trust," I agreed, "In trying to get past the issue of trust. What happens next time someone like Marc LaVaillere comes along, and your brain shuts down. You have already shown me the absolute worst disrespect while I was there holding your hand in front of friends. But what happened next time? Can you promise me you won't fall off the wagon?"

'I would never..." then she stopped and looked at me, "No Jim, I can't, I want to say right now I am yours forever, I would never hurt you to bring you back here again, but I can't." she paused and looked at me. "This world isn't perfect, and I want to promise it, but I can't. As much as you can't promise me that you won't go after some sexy supermodel to get back at me someday."

"But Linda..." I started. She cut me off and squeezed my hand in a loving gesture while shaking her head.

"No Jim, I love you, and I wouldn't complain if you wanted to get back at me by sleeping with someone else, even though I know it would be the worst pain I can imagine. I know that because you have been going through it. But, if it brought you back to me, I would push you to do it. But I know it wouldn't. You would torture yourself over your infidelity like I am. I'm dirty Jim, unclean, and no shower takes this feeling away from me. I wouldn't wish you feel like this with everything else I have put you through."

She paused.

"As much I want to say, I would never again betray you. I am the one who broke your trust, and I also know you can't make the same promise. I know if I were in your shoes, I wouldn't."

She wasn't wrong, I might not trust her, and she had a point in reciprocation. But nevertheless, a part of me wondered what a hospital shower with the lovely nurse Ellen might be like or bed the beautiful Annabella Brown.

I sighed, "I take your point."

She laid a hand on my arm and looked at me intensely.

"Jim, I love you, and I know it's going to take a long time to rebuild the trust, But I want to try though, with every part of me I want to try. If you don't want to, I will understand. I won't fight a divorce."

I looked at my mournful wife. She was raw and vulnerable.

"Linda," she looked at me hopefully. "I'll be honest, in addition to a lawsuit again your boyfriend," she winced, "and the hotel, my lawyer, is putting together a divorce petition." Linda gasped, but her grip tightened on my hand.

"It's okay, Jim, I won't fight it, I deserve it, but I don't want it. Is there any hope? Is there anything I can do?" she sat down, crying, her hand still holding mine.

"You've already done it," I said, and she started weeping. I squeezed her hand.

"Linda, you have already done it," I repeated, she looked up at her, and I gave her a small smile. "From what mom has been telling me, along with your letter, and I heard your phone call with Dee. I know we've got a long road to go, and I'm not going to lie, it's going to be hard, But I'm willing to try to rebuild something. Not just for Emma and Tommy, but for us too."

It was like the sun coming out after a thunderstorm. Linda tears stopped, and her smile brightened the room. Since we went out that night, I felt hope for the first time.

[:::: Linda ::::]

That evening in the hospital with Jim, it felt like I was reborn. I'd been given a second chance to keep my husband. We moved him into the guest room where Ruth stayed when we got him home. It was easier for his wheelchair while he was in his casts. We moved Ruth into the master bedroom so I could stay with Jim. His recovery was slow. There was a lot of exercises we had to get him through daily. I was never more than a mere moment from his side. He never complained when I had to help him to the bathroom or when I helped him shave.

His situation also helped us regain our intimacy. Jim could only have sponge baths with three limbs wrapped in casts, so while I wiped him down, I made sure to clean his genitals thoroughly. After a few days, Jim started getting a hard-on as I cleaned him. I never asked but sucked him off and swallowed his load, something I had never done for anyone before. I told him it was efficient and to keep him clean, but I think he knew I was just trying to make it up to him.

The day he got his casts off, I wanted to jump him right into bed, but his limbs were sore, so I massaged his limbs, and he fell to sleep quickly. That weekend though, Ruth had taken the kids away, and I let Jim take me, and oh my goodness, he rocked my world like never before. Marc LaVaillere had nothing on Jim that weekend. Part of me thinks Jim was trying to prove a point, but after almost two days, as we lay exhausted, we said nothing but fell asleep content in each other's arms. I knew I would be walking funny for a week, but I was happy. I belonged to my husband again. I was never again going to give him any cause to doubt my devotion to him.

One other thing is I also let Jim take my anal virginity. He was loving and slow, used lots of lube, and I must admit I came hard. Neither of us were going to get into anal other than a bit of extra fun now and then, but I felt good for having let my husband reclaim me and giving him something no one else had or would ever get.

As a couple, Jim had a few mood swings early on. But we made a point to talk through any anger he had or regret that I had when I would occasionally become despondent. We found that communication helped us find our way back to each other more than anything.

We learnt that David and Dee had separated. Apparently, Dee had continued to maintain it was okay for me to have my night with Marc. She couldn't understand everyone, including me, who saw it as the biggest mistake ever made.

And Marc LaVaillere, well, his legal team settled out of court for just over three million dollars to Jim, usually, a suit like that would go nowhere, but after being hit by a bus that could be quickly drawn back to the time Marc and I spent in that hotel room, his lawyers said it was better to avoid the scandal. Add that to the additional four point two million Jim got from the hotel plus medical expenses. So, he's doing quite nicely.

I say him because while Jim didn't divorce me, I did speak with his lawyer Annabella Brown and asked her for a postnup protecting Jim's money. Jim protested, but I insisted. I would never go silly again, but I wanted Jim to know it would never affect him financially if I ever did.

Emma and Tommy were ecstatic to have their parents back together and loved we were so much more attentive to them than ever before.

After a few months, we started going out again, and I always stayed close to him. I had my husband back, but we were both still broken in many ways, and I needed Jim to be my rock.

[:::: Jim ::::]

It's a year later, and we're back to that month we all hate February. My injuries have healed nicely, and other than a few pains on a cold morning, I can do everything I can before I got hit by a bus.

Linda and I are doing well. However, it hasn't been smooth sailing, and when we talk about it, we both agree if it hadn't been for the bus, my mother and me being in a hospital, things might have ended up very different. My lack of presence due to the hospital caused Linda to regret what happened immediately, so she didn't just sweep it under the rug and try to make me think it wouldn't affect us. She has seen a counsellor regularly, and despite a lot of psychobabble, just Linda getting to talk to someone disconnected from our lives helped her immensely.

One of the surprising relationships is between my mother and Linda. Mom was so much a part of the story; Linda now talks with my mom about almost everything.

My time in the hospital and isolation made me understand how much I need Linda. Some of you may think I should have thrown her to the curb, and there is part of me that agrees. But I just think of myself as a forgiving man that knows I am better with her by my side, and I know my wife will forever regret her actions of that night.

Again, we have chosen to head out and spend the night at a hotel and go to a club. Linda has made a new dress and bought some matching lingerie. This time, she didn't make me wait to see it but modelled the lingerie and put on the dress for me. I must say that was fun as I helped her out of it not long after.

We got a suite at the Maddison, I now get my rooms complimentary, and we're heading back to the same club. Our group of friends have taken the painstaking time and effort to try and get back in my good graces. I doubt I will ever need to buy a drink again while hanging out in the group. The notable exception to our group is Dee. After our discussion in the hospital and subsequent separation from Dave. Dee got so mad at David for doubting her that she went out and had a one-night stand and ended up getting pregnant. David isn't the father. They recently divorced, and David, more than any of the crew, had been hanging out with me commiserating around what we now call LaValliere syndrome.

The same as last year, Linda's dress made her turn heads all over the place. I was both nervous and proud. Our conversation was light, nothing serious. The band was playing, and we danced a few dances. Linda kept her hand in mine or was constantly rubbing my leg. I think she was as nervous as I was. No one at our table asked anyone other than their spouses to dance. Dave was careful to ask only a few single ladies for dance, and any time a married woman came up and asked, he smiled and politely declined.

I guess it was around ten in the evening when the atmosphere changed. A group had arrived for the reserved areas, including Marc LaVaillere.

It was Phil who spotted him doing the rounds, but unlike last year, Phil groaned, "Don't look now, but it's Marc LaVaillere.

He wandered over to our table and took one look at Linda, and started sizing her up. Linda was holding my hand tightly, just like last year. She was ridged as he held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Marc. Would you like to dance?" Like last year, Linda gasped and let go of my hand like a hot potato. My world started to close in, and everyone around the table was about to object as again my wife turned her back to me. In that split second, I wondered if my life was about to end.

SLAP!

Linda's hand connected with Marc's face with one of the mightiest sounds you have heard, most of the club stopped everything and looked. She had let go of me and turned for maximum leverage. Suddenly sliding out of the booth and standing, Linda followed up a moment later, kicking him in the balls, and as he collapsed, she spat on him.