February Sucks: The Father-in-Law

"Jail was horrible. It was the worst experience of my life. I . . . I think I almost got raped last night. And this morning, when...."

"Wait, someone tried to rape you in jail? One of the guards? What happened?"

"No, not a guy. Another prisoner. A woman, and not even a big woman. But she was really strong and she came up behind me and grabbed me by my boobs and pulled me back toward her and, and . . . and she stuck her tongue in my ear. I screamed and another woman slapped her and pushed her away and hugged me while I just cried. I mean, my life was so, so fucked up. Everything had just gone wrong. The night with Marc was supposed to be just a night, some time out of time, and then I would come home and you would be a little mad, well maybe a lot mad, but we would get over it because we love each other so much. And Marc would be just a memory, like a great day at the beach, for me to treasure. But Daddy ruined everything, and then Marc got insulting and I accidentally hit the cop and they put me in jail, and you wouldn't even help me get out. And I have an idiot for a lawyer, and I might have to go back to jail, and I just hate myself and my life. I want everything to be like it was last week, I wish I never saw Marc Lavalliere." She finally wound down and took a deep, shuddery breath. She looked at me like I had answers that would magically make her life better.

"Linda, who forced you to desert me, on our special night out, and embarrass me in front of our friends and go off to fuck some football player? I know the answer: no one forced you. This is all on you. You did a horrible, despicable, rotten thing and you deserve to be suffering. I'm sorry you got groped by some dyke, but if you had not deserted me for Asshole, you wouldn't have been in jail in the first place. And I still want to know how you got out of jail."

"My stupid lawyer let me call my parents after you wouldn't help me. I guess I was lucky my mom answered the phone. My dad might have hung up like you did. Anyway, she knew some of what had happened, and I told her I needed bail money to get out of jail. I could hear her and Daddy arguing about whether she should help me, and he finally said she could, but he wasn't going to be any part of it. She came down to the jail, paid the bail bondsman, and they let me go. She drove me back here and all the way she kept telling me how stupid I was. Jim, she's right. I did a very stupid thing, and you're right: I am suffering for it, and I don't know what to do now. I can keep saying I'm sorry, but ...."

"But you're not really sorry, are you? I mean you're sorry how things turned out, because of your dad showing up and killing Asshole's car, and you going to jail. But you're not sorry for your night with Asshole, are you?"

"Honey, please, it was supposed to be just a little treat for me, some very special me time. I didn't tell you anything before I left because I didn't want to hurt your feelings, and . . . ."

"Please, just stop. You deserted me, you humiliated me, you cheated on our marriage, you ruined your relationship with your parents. If this is 'just a little treat' for you, God help us all if you need a big treat."

"Jim, I am sorry for hurting you, and because what I did hurt you, I am sorry, I am totally, totally sorry for what I did. And now, I know it might be too late, but I will do anything to make it up to you." She looked at me with her big, teary eyes, hoping for a big reconciling hug and for me to say we would get past this.

"I'm going to tell the kids goodnight and then I'm going out for a run. We can talk later." And I left her sitting there. Running in the dark, with the streetlights creating pools of light to run between, is special. I have to run more carefully than during daylight runs so I don't get into the zone I can get into during the day. But there is also an exhilaration that builds between those streetlights. It was late enough that traffic was sparse so I could run in the street, and I ran until my exhilaration started turning into exhaustion. At least I was heading back toward home as I slowed to a walk and realized that "home" was maybe not that anymore. Maybe it was just a house now.

As I walked, I did start thinking about Linda's words: she would do anything, she said. I guess those words had been percolating in my head as I ran. I started putting a plan together, a plan that made me laugh out loud about the time I walked in our front door.

"Jim, you're back. Did you have a good run? Can I get you anything to drink? Can I do anything for you?"

"Linda, I'm going to bed, in the guest room." And I did. And I left for the office early the next morning, before anyone was up. I worked at my job pretty well that day, but I also thought more about my plan, and put some details down on paper. That evening, after the kids were in bed, I confronted Linda.

"Linda, we have to talk," I said, in the words the wife usually uses on the husband.

"About, about what?" she responded, obviously scared I was going to bring up the D word.

"You know, divorce is certainly a possibility, after what you did. And it might be easier just to go with divorce, except for the kids. They would be devastated. While you are a cheater as a wife, you are good as a mother, and I think the kids would be better off if we can figure out a way to stay together."

"Yes, Jim, yes. Like I said last night: anything."

"I heard you say that, and I have been thinking about it and wondering if you really meant it."

"I did, I did. Well, uh, maybe not literally anything. I mean I know you might want to kill Marc, but I couldn't do that and . . ."

"No, no, I wouldn't ask you to do anything illegal or even immoral. But if we are to stay together I do have conditions. Are you ready to hear them? And before you say yes, let me lay them out for you, and then you can decide whether to say yes or divorce. Got it?"

"Jim, I know I will say yes to the conditions, so go ahead."

"Okay, first, STD tests. If Asshole fucked you, a woman he knew was married, he must be fucking others, and for your own sake as well as mine, you need to get a battery of STD tests."

"Jim, . . . "

"Linda, wait, hear all the conditions, and then say yes or no to all of them. They are not negotiable. Second, counseling, first for just you, to give you some understanding of how you could walk out on your husband and cheat with Asshole, and then for the two of us to help us get over what you did.

"Third, we enter into a post-nuptial agreement, like a pre-nup. It will say that, if you cheat again, we divorce, you leave the marriage with nothing but your car and your own personal stuff. I get custody of the kids, but you get liberal non-custody parent rights. I wouldn't try to keep you from the kids, but any more cheating means, to me, that you are not fit to be the custodial parent.

"Fourth, and this maybe gets a little harder for you. I get two hall passes, to spend a night, or two, my choice, with another woman. I will be discrete, I won't embarrass you by walking out on you in public, but you will know that I am going to have sex for a night or two with another woman. Your walking out on me in public just about destroyed my sense of me as a man and I need this to reclaim some of my own self-worth.

"And finally, maybe a bit as punishment, a bit to help my self-reclamation, and because it could get to be fun for both of us, we start having anal sex. I'll give you some warning, so you can get ready, I'll be gentle, use lots of lube and I won't require it more than once a week, but I will start fucking you in the ass. So, those are the conditions. You can say yes or divorce now, or sleep on it and let me know, but you have to tell me by tomorrow. I'm not going to stay in limbo over this.

"So, Linda, what's your answer?"

SIX MONTHS LATER

Of course she said yes, to all the conditions. Thankfully, the STD tests were all negative, she started counselling, and we got the post-nup signed, but not without a bit of drama. She was worried that I might accuse her of cheating when she was innocent, and kick her out because, maybe, I fell in love or lust with one of my hall pass ladies. We ended up agreeing that she had to fail a lie detector test for any divorce to be based on cheating. And so far I have not used the hall passes. I admit it's more than a bit mean of me, but I think the hall passes are better to hold over her head than to use.

And the anal sex? I'm certainly liking it. As for Linda, I guess I can say she's making progress. The first night I told her we were going to have anal sex, I informed her by saying, "Linda, please get ready because tonight I fuck you in your tight, beautiful ass." She staggered a little, and tried to say something that would get her off that particular hook, but she finally said ok in a soft, trembly voice and headed off to the bathroom to get ready. More than a few tears that first night, but now she doesn't hesitate and who knows? She may be getting to like it.

She did avoid any more jail time. She had to apologize to the two cops in open court, which she did profusely. The judge gave her probation for a year and 100 hours of community service. She is doing her service in a home for battered women, and I think is enjoying it.

Finally, FIL has blossomed. His friends are in awe of what he did to Asshole's car and a few times I have heard them talking about what else they might do to Asshole. We'll see.

As for me, I'm doing ok. Before this whole February thing, I never thought about the power structure in a marriage. If I had been asked, I would have said Linda and I were 50/50 in power. But that really wasn't true. Linda actually had much more power than I and I suppose I resented it. But now, I clearly have the power and that feels pretty good. I enjoy it, almost as much as I enjoy the anal sex.

Finis.