Fool Me Twice . . . .

Through a jumble of thoughts I completely understood why he chose to close early on Wednesdays.

"What the fuck are you doing in here Pat!?" Langley yelled at me yanking his underwear on.

My impulse was to turn and flee, but I knew this would create a much larger problem later. I needed to explain and perhaps, just perhaps, I could temper my embarrassing error.

I fell all over myself apologizing and saying I'd made a big mistake. Surprisingly Langley was not as furious as he should have been. With Olivia behind closed doors in Langley's attached personal washroom. I tried to explain.

"Last week at the party at your lake house I overheard you and some of the others talking out on the trail." I told him.

He nodded, staring at me.

"It was hard to hear everything, but what I did hear sounded like Mia was the one, that was," I hesitated, "on the desk."

At that moment Olivia emerged, completely dressed. Silently she sat down and listened to me explain.

I told them that I'd wanted evidence, and that was how we got to the position we'd found ourselves in now.

I apologized profusely to Olivia. She asked for my phone. She scrolled through the pictures and then showed one of them to Langley.

"I kind of like this one," Olivia said good naturedly.

"Mia's a great person, attractive and I've known her for a long time, but I am not having any kind of affair with her." He told me with an odd expression on his face.

"You better not be!" Olivia chimed in.

Slight relief began to surge through me. They didn't seem particularly mad and even seemed to be enjoying some of my photography.

"Can I ask you a favor?" I said to them,

I asked them if we could forget all this. I begged them not to tell anyone, especially Mia. I was embarrassed enough at this moment.

"Pat, yes, we can keep quiet about all this," Langley agreed, "one condition," he told me.

I was nodding vigorously, I would've done nearly anything for their silence.

"We get to keep the pictures." Langley smiled and said.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

As I walked the few blocks to retrieve my car I had a couple of feelings. Number one was embarrassment at my jealous error. The second one was relief that Langley and Olivia were so reasonable about my blunder. And finally, there was this huge sense of happiness that my wife was not having an affair.

I obviously completely misinterpreted what was said at the lake.

I vowed as I drove home to be the best, most tolerant husband, and not worry or question her about her irregular schedule. She was doing something that fulfilled her and she was apparently quite good at it. I was happy for Mia.

I began the process of mending any relationship fences that I'd damaged. I called my attorney, Myron Overbee, and told him to stand down. After some brief questioning he agreed.

Flowers, small gifts, back rubs, I tried to show Mia how much I cared for her. I reflected on what a good mother she was. And I complimented her far more often, making sure she knew how much I appreciated her.

"What's gotten into you?" She said one day after I'd sent flowers to her office.

I just said that I loved her and loved our family. There was a general upbeat feel within our home that trickled to the children too. On the times we were all present for dinner together the conversation was happy and animated.

One negative thing that contradicted the renewed happiness I felt at home was Ryan's health. He was on a downward spiral and often did not have the energy to play our normal chess match.

He and Teresa were the only people I confided to about my suspicious blunder catching Blake Langley screwing his girlfriend on his office desk.

Despite his waning health Ryan laughed wholeheartedly at my mistake. One of the last few happier moments we spent together.

Mia still occasionally had late nights, unexplained absences, and slightly illogical answers for certain questions. My new mode was just to accept and trust her no matter how odd her explanations became.

Life seemed to go on for our busy family with Mia's mom an invaluable part of our household. She took care of the children when needed as Mia's hours at Langley Motors increased to full time.

One evening Mia came home and told me she needed to be in Denver for a dealer conference in two weeks. It was a 4 day trip leaving on Sunday, back on Thursday.

"Who's going with you?" I asked, not able to stifle my curiosity.

She said she was on her own but there'd be other marketing personnel from around the country. Normally I'd be suspicious and more questioning but I just mentally repeated the mantra, 'I trust her'.

I took her to the airport Sunday and she took the 10:40 morning flight to Denver. She called me about 1:30 in the afternoon to tell me she made it, and the flight was uneventful.

That week it seemed a particularly challenging time with the kids. By Tuesday morning I was stressed out. Mia's mom saw my condition when she arrived that day.

"Why don't you go relax and have dinner with a friend or something. Just get out tonight, take a break," she suggested. "I'll bring the children's grandmother over. The two of us can handle them."

I thought about it. She was right, I needed a break. I accepted her offer and planned on meeting Tim Paris, my good friend and financial advisor downtown in the Fir District. This was a popular area with bars, restaurants, and trendy shops.

We had a nice dinner, but afterwards Tim had to head home. He had a 6 AM Zoom call in the morning with his office on the East Coast.

I checked my watch, not even 7 o'clock. I crossed the street to Ballantino's, a bar we'd been in before that I enjoyed. It was crowded and I found a spot at the bar, ordered a glass of wine, and relaxed.

About ten minutes later, halfway through my wine I heard my name called.

"Pat! What are you doing here?" It was Lisa Markham, Mia's good friend, married to Mitch.

It was good to see a familiar face. She was at Ballantino's with three other women, back at a table in the corner.

I told her I'd had dinner with a friend and was just having a nightcap. She said she was on a girl's night out and they were waiting for their table in the restaurant.

"Where's Mi?" She asked using her shortened nickname.

I explained she was away on business for a few nights.

"Oh yeah, I think she told me she had to go somewhere." Lisa said.

"What's Mitch up to?" I asked.

"He's out of town too. I was going to go with him, but he said something came up and it wouldn't work." She told me, "it's too bad, she said. Other than the airport, I love Denver." She added.

Suddenly an icy chill slithered down my back. Did she say Denver!? That's where Mia was. I had to keep my cool, but I needed more information.

"Was Mitch traveling alone," I casually asked her.

She said he was.

"When did he fly out?" I asked.

"Sunday, there's a morning flight. Gets in early afternoon, he's back Thursday". She told me and paused, "why all the questions?" She suddenly asked me.

I did the best acting job I could, deflecting her question and then changing the subject. We chatted for a few more minutes and then Lisa's friends called to her that their table was ready, and she left.

My suspicions were high. What a coincidence running into Lisa I reflected. She never once told me she was traveling with anyone. Certainly not her boss, Mitch Markham.

I decided I'd call her. I had a small hope this may just be some type of communication error. Maybe there was a logical explanation. I made the call.

We chatted a little at first and I told her I'd gone out to dinner with Tim.

"What'd you do for dinner?" I asked.

"Just room service." She told me.

I asked her if she'd run into anyone she knew. She told me no, she was on her own. I paused a second and then fairly quickly disengaged. Was it possible that Markham was in Denver for a separate purpose? Possible I supposed, but unlikely.

Driving home from the Fir District I developed a plan. I'd need Mia's mom's assistance with the kids. I examined the various details and had a pretty good idea what my strategy was going to be..

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

I got stuck with a center seat on the flight to Denver. I was just glad any seat was available at the last minute. On the shuttle to the rental car pickup I reviewed my strategy. I would plant myself in the lobby of the Marriott Denver Downtown where I'd found out she was staying.

If she was truly on her own, my visit would be just a big happy surprise and we'd stay in Denver for the weekend. If something else was going on, with Markham, we'd have a different type of confrontation.

It was mid afternoon when I got to the Marriott. Not much activity. I positioned myself in a shadowed alcove. I had a ball cap and a newspaper. I felt a little ridiculous sitting there, but I knew I had to find out for sure what, if anything, was going on with Mia.

I sat and waited. Whenever someone would enter I'd look up. Around 5 o'clock the lobby began getting busier. Twenty minutes later I saw Mia arrive. She was alone and walked across the lobby toward the elevator. She was by herself in the elevator car. It had a floor indicator above the door. I noted the elevator stopped on floor 8.

I checked my watch, nearly 5:30. I calculated that if she was going out the earliest it would be was 6:30, after all it was my wife and I knew her habits.

I waited, 6:30 became 7, as far as I could tell she was still upstairs in her room. I suddenly began to feel hopeful. Hopeful that there was some kind of logical explanation for all this. I decided if there was no activity by 7:30 I would call her and unleash the surprise.

7:31, I stood and found myself smiling. I had really leaped to the wrong conclusion. I reaffirmed my promise to myself to trust her.

I strode across the lobby, ridiculous hat still on, heading to the elevator and floor eight. All of a sudden I froze, then turned away from the elevator.

I recognized the voice talking loudly on the cell phone pressed to his ear.

It was Markham.

I stepped behind a large potted plant. He'd been so focused on his phone call he never noticed me. Through the leaves I saw him hit the 'up' button for the elevator. Another couple got on. I stared as the floor indicator showed a stop on the third floor. And then it stopped on 8.

I retreated to the same alcove I'd been in all afternoon. I wanted to confront them. But by 8 o'clock they had not emerged. It appeared they were staying in. It did not take a genius to imagine what was going on. I just didn't know what room they were in on floor 8.

I glanced over at the lobby shop. I improvised a plan. I asked the attendant if they would deliver flowers to a guest. They said certainly. I gave them the name and asked if the delivery could be done quickly. They agreed, saying they weren't busy.

I tipped the young attendant $20 to make the delivery as soon as possible. Then I took the elevator to floor 8. There was a small seating area near the elevator that provided a view down each hallway where the rooms were. I waited.

I saw the young attendant stop at a door down the hallway. I counted, fifth door on the right. There was a brief interaction and a muffled conversation as the delivery was made. I moved down the opposite hallway as the attendant retreated.

Okay now I knew the room number, 809. I took the elevator down to the main floor and used the lobby phone. I asked for housekeeping.

"Could you send up some clean towels to 809?" I asked.

Once again I positioned myself near the elevator on the eighth floor. This time it took a little longer. I heard the chime of the elevator bell announcing it was stopping on floor eight. And then, the rumble of the housekeeping cart heading to 809.

A brief knock and then the maid called out "housekeeping."

I was silently right behind the maid. I saw her extend the passkey and she cracked the door open, towels in hand. That was all I needed. I barged past the surprised hotel employee and saw Mitch Markham naked, one hand hiding his genitals, peeking around the short hallway in the room.

"Huh!?" He uttered as he finally realized who it was.

"Pat, what are you?" Surprised, he asked.

"What!?" Mia shouted, alarmed. She hadn't seen me yet.

Markham moved toward me, holding both arms out, palms flat, in a halting gesture. My pent up rage carried me toward him, my right fist burying into the soft flab of his gut.

With an 'oooff' he collapsed into a sitting position on the floor.

I stepped over him and then saw Mia, topless, in a small pair of bikini panties on the bed. I also noticed the flowers on the bedside table.

"Patrick!" She cried out.

I just stared at her absorbing what had transpired. Even after I'd called housekeeping I still had a faint hope that I'd burst in and see them fully clothed reviewing sales charts.

No, there was only one explanation as to what had happened. It was obvious.

And as I stared, Mia began the typical litany of illogical excuses. It wasn't what I thought. this was only the first time, it was just sex, she loved me. Etc.

Despite my emotional rage I remembered enough to pull out my phone and get photos. Mia tried to cover herself with the sheet. Markham sat slumped on the floor. I was so tempted to kick him squarely in his exposed dick and balls. I didn't.

After one last look at Mia, who was now sobbing and begging forgiveness I turned to leave.

"Do not," I began, in a hissing whisper, "plan on coming home to MY house!"

As I was leaving I heard her sobbing reply, "I'm sorry, where will I go, it's my house too!"

I did not reply.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

All the way home I decided I was not going to be a nice guy. All the feelings of betrayal and lies bubbled up to the surface. I vividly recalled the feelings I had years ago when I saw her and Langley together at that party.

This was like that but worse. Much worse.

I had multiple texts and voicemails from her. At Myron's advice I saved them all.

"We may need them." He told me.

Upon arriving I told her Mom everything. She had become such an integral part of the household helping with Michael and the twins I could not think of a way to explain Mia's absence. It also felt good to humiliate Mia and spread the misery around to her mother. Her mother was shocked.

The next phone call was to Lisa Markham. Mia's good friend. She exploded in anger!

"I told him last time, if he ever did this again, it was over!"

Last time? Did this again?

Obviously this was not unfamiliar territory for Markham.

Needless to say this was going to affect Mia and Lisa's long term friendship. Good. I thought. I know I was being vindictive, but I couldn't help it, I was mad.

And beyond mad I was hurt. Terribly hurt. Hurt for what she had done to me, and more importantly how this would affect the kids. We were going to take them from a loving home, with parents living together to a world of joint custody, less stability, compromised finances, and partial parenthood.

Mia abided by my wishes and stayed away from the family home. At first.

It was Sunday. I'd taken the kids on a short hike in the mountains. Everyone was tired and hungry when we got home. Sitting in the kitchen when we arrived was Mia.

The kids, who kept asking 'where's mom?' Swarmed her. Despite anything that may have happened. There was no denying, Mia was a good mother. And the children had missed her.

As she interacted with the children, hugging and playing, I noticed her checking my expression, quickly glancing at me, trying to test the temperature of my emotions.

I stayed quiet. A stone Buddha, my face blank.

Mia made a delicious dinner for the kids and me. There were moments when even for me this felt normal. But there was no way around the dark cloud of dishonesty and betrayal, unseen by the children, that hung over our household.

The rest of the evening was getting Michael and the twins prepped for bed. In our household this was not a short process. Bathing, pajamas, stories, and finally sleep.

I sat in the living room television off, awaiting the confrontation I'd so far avoided. I knew it was time.

Silently Mia entered the living room sitting on the edge of the single chair facing me on the couch. She studied my face not speaking at first.

Finally with a deep breath she began her apologies.

"I need to explain." She finally told me.

"All through high school at St Thomas, I was the good girl. I had it drummed into my head by my mother and grandma that sex was for marriage."

I had heard this all before. I considered this the Langley explanation.

And then she talked about having a high school crush on Mitch. And then how when they started working together they became closer. One thing led to another, and well, she explained, they began to sleep together.

"But I will never do it again. I'll agree to whatever you want. Please, please Patrick. I'll even quit my job!" She told me.

"Don't do that." I said to her,

"No?" She asked, looking confused.

"You're going to need the money."

Mia was silent. It seemed like the practical ramifications of her actions began to sink in. This home, our lifestyle, plans for our children would likely all change.

"Patrick, I love you. Don't you have it in your heart to forgive me? Please!" She begged.

"I'm not sure you understand what you've done." I told her, she tried to interrupt but I talked through the interruption.

"Forgive, perhaps in time, the kids and I will forgive you. It's just I can no longer trust you." I told her.

"The kids!?" She asked, "why are you talking about the kids?"

I sat there studying her. Wondering how a reasonably intelligent woman was not getting it.

"Mia," I said. "It isn't just my life you fucked up. It's the kids' lives too."

She sat staring at me with a questioned look on her face.

"Joint custody, two separate homes, potential step parents, compromised finances. This is the world they're getting because you fucked Mitch Markham." I told her

Her face crumbled. Finally she began to understand all the results of her actions. Through tears she begged for forgiveness.

"You loved me enough to marry me," she sobbed, "can't you find that love again now?"

"In reality Mia," I said to her, " I married you because you were pregnant with our child. I wanted to give that child, Michael, a solid future. You've just destroyed that."

"If you hadn't been pregnant. I would have never married you."

I was pulling no punches. She needed to feel as bad as I did.

"No Mia," I continued, "for me, you were not the kind of woman I wanted for a wife."

"Sure, we had fun. But life, particularly as a parent, comes with an obligation. That obligation is to raise your children in a responsible way so that they become productive members of society."

"I was not confident in you to take on this responsibility." I continued. "But you surprised me. I have to say you've done a great job as a mother."

"Though I can't say you've done a particular good job as a wife."

"Now I'm tired. I'm going to go and sleep in the basement on the futon. For now."

"Patrick, I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"One last thing." I said, ignoring her apology.

She looked up hopefully to me.

"You should probably get an attorney," I told her.

I heard her sobs as I walked to the basement.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Somehow, someway, life continued almost as if her infidelity hadn't happened.

Almost.

We all still lived together under one roof. For the kids, their worlds were normal. Mom and Dad and the kids all living together. What they may not notice was that I rarely spoke to Mia. And there was absolutely no physical interaction.

No hugs. No hand holding. No kisses goodbye. There was barely a dialogue unless it was absolutely necessary.