Fool Me Twice . . . .

That is not to say that Mia didn't try. In the evening after the children were asleep she would pledge her apologies over and over. Any attempt toward physical contact I objected to and shut down..

It was like we were living in two worlds. One world when the children were awake, trying to maintain a sense of normalcy. And then the times when it was just Mia and I where the Cold War was waging on our relationship.

It was not a pleasant environment. A dark time in my life. And it got worse.

No, our household with the described dysfunction, continued, it was something else that darkened the atmosphere of my life.

It was Ryan.

He was on full hospice now. The doctor's were saying his life should be measured in days. I would visit and Teresa would try to stay upbeat, but it didn't take much to shatter the facade of positivity.

One day close to the end I sat with Ryan as he dozed. I was quiet, just sitting when all of a sudden Ryan gripped my shirt sleeve with surprising force. I looked at him and for a moment his eyes were clear.

"Promise me," he whispered, "Patrick, promise me." He repeated.

"Anything." I said my head nodding, willing to do whatever was needed.

It took a moment for him to summon the strength, but finally he whispered to me.

"Take care of Teresa..."

I promised him I would.

Three days later Ryan died. The funeral was sad and nice all rolled together. I spoke briefly about our friendship and what a good man he was.

And then life went on. Sort of.

The atmosphere at home was all about the children. Mia continued to be a good mother. Following my advice she maintained her job at Langley Motors and Mia's Mom was a regular fixture at our house. My objective was to maintain the sense of normalcy for the children, but behind the scene, things were happening.

I met that Tuesday night with Myron Overbee to discuss the options around the dissolution of my marriage. What he told me was not encouraging.

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

The stress Mia felt was constant. The only relief was in the short patches of sleep brought on by exhaustion. Even the joy of being with the children was stressful. There was a constant pressure Mia put on herself. If I'm not a good enough mother, Patrick will not need me.

Mia thought back to the awful conversation with Patrick after the horrendous trip to Denver. He was so cold. He had told her that if she hadn't been pregnant he would have never married her. That was a sharp knife that went in cleanly.

He had accused her, through her actions, of sabotaging the children's future, stability, and happiness. The pressure was on, constantly, to make up for her error. Errors. She needed to compensate for her mistakes by being the best mother possible.

And that was hard.

She'd tried to talk to Lisa, her best and oldest friend. But Lisa had called her names and told her she'd ruined her marriage. Finally she told her she never wanted to speak to her again.

Fortunately she'd kept her job at Langley Motors, but she had been called to Blake's office and was told she was not to interact with Mitch. Mitch had been demoted and Mia had noticed he now avoided her. That was probably for the best anyway, but the entire company was aware of the affair with Mitch. She knew about, and actually heard some of the hurtful gossip. It was embarrassing.

If she'd had a choice she would have quit, but Patrick had said she was going to need the money.

The only person that she could really talk to was her mother. She would discuss her actions and the precarious state of her marriage. But though her mother was great with the children and a good cook, she had no grasp of the situation.

"Patrick will come around. In time he'll learn to forgive you," she'd tell Mia.

To Mia that all was incredibly unlikely.

Mia summed up her life this way; a failed marriage, an embarrassing work environment, and constant pressure at home to be a perfect mother. All because she fucked a guy that in retrospect she didn't even like that much. Oh, and by the way, he'd been married to her now, ex-best friend.

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

"It's likely you would get joint custody," Myron told me, "but it's also likely that if you kept the house, your wife would retain occupancy. If you sold the house the proceeds would be split and perhaps there would be enough for each of you to afford a small house or condominium."

I sat there thinking. I loved that house. It was perfect for the children. They had begun developing friendships in the neighborhood. The school they'd all attend was close too. I remembered when we bought the house and how ideal it was for our family.

I continued to sit in Myron's office, fingertips absently tapping on the desk surface contemplating a bunch of poor choices for my life. The idea of taking the kids out of their house and forcing them into some cramped condo was not what I wanted.

"There may be another option," Myron paused and said, "it's become a bit more popular, though, given the circumstances it's not ideal."

I looked at him silently nodding for him to continue.

Myron told me that he could create a post-nuptial agreement. Of course I'd heard of a pre-nuptial agreement, but not this. Myron explained it was a document for a married couple that outlined a series of legal agreements between the man and wife to protect them financially and personally.

"What would be in the document?" I asked.

He explained anything we both decided on. But, it would be a solution about the children and the home.

Essentially this, we would stay married. Financially we would have our own accounts, investments, and retirements. Monthly expenses would be divided proportionately to our individual income.

We would make an equitable split of the house value years later after the kids were older. Specifically once the twins turned eighteen, it was stipulated in the agreement, the house would be sold and profit split 50-50 unless we both agreed to keep it. But, if either one of us wanted out, the house would be sold.

The other thing that would happen at this point is either one of us would have the choice to terminate the marriage without contest. Assets would be split 50-50 and either of us would have the option to buy the other one's share of the house at a discounted rate. Otherwise it would be split as stated above.

We would function as married roommates. Furthermore there would be stipulations about household guests. Neither of us could bring a 'date' to the house. Any external romantic relationships were to be kept private without exposure to the spouse or the children.

We discussed it a bit more. It wasn't perfect, but it may be the least bad alternative available. I asked Myron to put something together while I considered this option.

Perhaps at some point, much later, in their adult lives the children would understand the sacrifices made for their stability, I thought.

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

I couldn't believe it! When Patrick came into the kitchen with the large envelope I thought for sure it was a divorce document. Tears welled up in my eyes as he began talking, partway through I realized I was wrong. This document was something else.

The bottom line was we both would stay in the house. He would finish off a room in the basement adjacent to his office. And that would be his bedroom. At least for now. We'd still be married, but we'd be more like co-parenting roommates!

There were a lot more details but most of them wouldn't kick in until years down the road. I wasn't going to worry about any of that now. I'm pretty sure I'll get a chance to change a few things by then.

This was the lifeline I needed. There were a whole bunch of rules and regulations that I happily agreed to. I didn't really even read the whole thing. I was signing the document before Patrick had even finished explaining it to me.

Outwardly I was happy because we would not split the kids up or have to sell the house. Secretly I held out hope that I could win him back over. I thought back to when we'd first broken up right out of college. I was able to get him back then. I felt there was a chance I could do it again.

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

At first it was a bit awkward. I was still extremely angered by her betrayal. Seeing her every day and having her act so 'normal' bothered me. Though I was warm and loving to the children I tried to subtly ignore Mia.

I framed off an area next to my office in the basement and built a bedroom down there. For the kids, it didn't seem to be abnormal, and their lives continued to function innocently with no knowledge of the fracture within their parents' relationship.

That was the deal Mia and I made and it was laid out in the post-nuptial agreement. The children's future and happiness was the priority. The preservation of their lives came at a price that we both paid.

One of the problems was, it would not be easy to have any kind of dating life. I quickly found out one of the first questions a prospective woman that I would approach would have is, ''are you married?".

By the beginning of my second sentence, after I began with, "yes, but....", the woman was gone. The only potential would be someone I knew well already and had the patience to understand the situation. Not many of them around unfortunately.

Of course one of the sacrifices I had to make was an absence of any sexual relationship. As time went on that became more and more difficult.

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

Patrick was still a little mad I could tell. Even though we did things as a family together, and usually ate dinner together he seemed to focus all his attention on the kids. That was fine, for now, but I wanted our old life back. When we were together.

That's okay I thought. I was playing the long game. I had time. I'd done it once before, and I knew him so well, I was pretty sure I'd win him back.

And I had a strategy.

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

Friday nights I normally met a couple of unmarried buddies at The Red Caboose, a sports bar with an upscale pick up lounge. The guys and I liked the place because of the big screens and the occasional attractive females that liked the place too.

The problem I faced was that most of the people that knew me, and there were a good percentage, knew me as being married. When I would try to explain that my wife and I were in an open type of marriage, that actually sounded sleazier.

Suffice it to say any of the women, knowing my situation, that would be interested in me, in general I didn't want. It reminded me of the old Groucho Marx line, 'I wouldn't want to join a club that would have me as a member', or something to that effect.

This created a frustration for me in a lot of ways. Certainly sexually, but also as a companion to do things with.

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

It's been a few months now and I was still playing the game at home. Yes, I understood the children were the number one priority, but I sensed things may be progressing with Patrick too. He wasn't as gruff to me when the children weren't around. And, I noticed him noticing me.

Very subtly I began to wear clothes a little more revealing. Every so often he'd see me not quite completely dressed. I was confident he found me attractive. He always had. I was also reasonably confident he wasn't dating anyone. Of course I wasn't positive, but other than the occasional Friday when he went to the Caboose, he was normally home at night.

I began to hatch a plan. I knew that after he'd had a couple drinks he was normally interested in sex. Of course I knew his habits from our years married. I knew what he wanted and what turned him on.

It was Friday night he was out with the guys at The Red Caboose. I was dressed in only a towel, as if I'd just showered. I knew he normally got home around 11 - 11:30.

Peeking out the window I saw the lights of the Uber turn onto our street. I hurried over to the refrigerator. Strategically I placed the corner of the towel into the fridge, shutting the door on the corner. I grabbed my water bottle.

I waited.

I heard the door open, I knew my timing had to be right. I heard him come around the corner and move into the kitchen.

"Oh!" I said, acting startled and stood up from crouching in the refrigerator.

"Oops!"

With that the towel, strategically stuck, in the refrigerator and there I was standing bare naked in front of him. My breasts projected out, one hand falsely hiding my pussy.

"You scared me," I told him standing nude.

Silently he came toward me. He reached for my breasts roughly fondling them, and then one hand groped my ass pulling me into his stiffening groin.

"Patrick," I breathed, acting slightly reluctant, "what are you doing?", I began and then his mouth covered mine.

He lifted me and abruptly dumped me on the kitchen table. He spread my legs and caressed my damp flesh. Quickly his clothes were gone and without foreplay rammed his erect penis straight into me. He quickly and forcefully fucked me on the table.

Neither of us had had sex in some time and it was over quickly but it had been fulfilling especially for Patrick.

He gallantly helped me off the table, kissed my cheek, fondled my breast one last time, and retreated to the basement. I'd hope to get him into my bed, but this was certainly a step in the right direction.

Though my hopes of a continued intimacy didn't kick in. At least not immediately, the coldness in our interactions thawed. I knew Patrick and I was becoming more confident things would change.

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

Things evolved in an uneventful way. Other than the time I caught her nude in the kitchen one Friday, our relationship was platonic. But there were many a night I lay in the basement with an erection tempted to climb the stairs and find sexual gratification.

Ultimately I knew that was not right. It would send her the wrong message. She was still a beautiful, sexy woman, but I needed more than that out of a relationship. My close friends were all aware of Mia and my situation.

Days became weeks, and weeks became months, and all of a sudden the dysfunction in our lives became the norm. I was neutral to pleasant toward Mia and she was very nice to me. Occasionally I'd feel the softness of a breast bump me, or a supposedly inadvertent brush of my groin. But I, despite my physical longing, abstained.

Those months became years. Mia's mother still helped, and Mia continued her job, quite successfully at Langley Motors. The kids were in school and life just progressed.

Suddenly I discovered a welcome change in my life. It happened so suddenly it surprised me.

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

Time passed for us but it was pleasant. I loved the children and now with the twins in school there was a normalcy I felt like I was lucky to have. My job was great. Mitch moved to California so I didn't have to run into him anymore and be reminded of my mistake. Somehow I needed to get back with Patrick.

Lately he seemed in an upbeat mood, happier. Occasionally when all the kids had things going, it was just he and I. These were pleasant and friendly, but any attempt at anything physical, sexual, he avoided.

He did quit going to the Caboose with his buddies. He was home more. He started walking in the evening, leaving the house after dinner for a couple of hours 2 or 3 nights a week. I'd ask where he went and he just said 'around'.

That was okay, I was just glad he wasn't hanging out with all the girls at the bar.

That positive mood continued. The upbeat attitude coincided with his new walking habit and quitting the bar scene. My mood was affected by his and I was happier.

He was friendly and good natured around me. I think things were progressing with us. Slowly, but improving. On rare occasions he gave me a kiss goodbye. No long passionate lip to lip smooch. More like a soft peck on the cheek. Sisterly.

Every so often I'd try to turn to get lip to lip contact but he avoided that, and then just gave me a little laugh, like it was a joke. I was getting frustrated with the stagnation of progress with Patrick, but on the other hand we were still living together.

My Mom encouraged me too. She'd reassure me with positive comments.

"Sometimes these things take time," she'd say. "But I can tell, he cares for you."

I was always buoyed by her comments. I just hoped they were true.

The years stretched on with everything staying normal. Suddenly, it seemed, Michael was away at college and the dynamic around the house changed. The twins were occupied with school, activities, friends, and boyfriends.

Patrick and I were both busy with our jobs. But one night Patrick said that we needed to take a family vacation to celebrate the twins graduation from high school. In all these years we had not traveled together. This was progress I thought.

"I'd like to take your mother too," Patrick told me.

She was certainly a part of all our lives and on one hand I was glad Patrick included Mom, but on the other hand I thought this could be a chance for him and I to increase our intimacy.

Three days later my mom was at the house when I got off work. She seemed excited about something. She could be in the way.

"Did you know about this?" She asked me with a big smile on her face.

"What?" I asked.

She smiled and handed me a few printed pages of paper.

When we talked to the twins about the vacation they both agreed on Disneyland. Even though they were certainly on the verge of adulthood, they were still kids at heart, and that's where they wanted to go.

Apparently my Mom had been snooping in Patrick's office while he was out of town.

I looked through the travel documents to Southern California and the details of the trip to Disneyland. I knew all this, what was my mom excited about?

I looked up.

"Keep reading," she told me.

At first I didn't understand. There were further travel plans for two after Disneyland. To Hawaii. I kept reading. The Hapuna Beach Hotel on the Big Island, for two. The trip would be right after the Disneyland trip. A week in Hawaii.

Finally I got what my Mom was excited about. It was going to be a surprise trip for the two of us. There were no flight documents in the printed sheets but the hotel and rental car were reserved!

Suddenly I was excited too. It was going to be a surprise for me.

"Mom," I began, "you've got to put all this back exactly how you found it!"

That night Patrick called me from his meeting. He said he wanted to talk to me about something, but not over the phone.

I happily agreed. He said he'd be home the following night and suggested we have dinner at The Pasta House, a small Italian restaurant we used to go to.

I was excited. He's going to tell me about the Hawaii trip I thought.

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

I got home that Friday afternoon. Mia was still at work. I texted her, 'need to run an errand meet you at Pasta House at 6:30'.

I left the house with a bounce in my step. I was nervous and excited.

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

I saw him sitting at the booth as I walked down the sidewalk to The Pasta House. I saw on the space next to him that he had something, maybe a document. It had to be the Hawaii trip.

I smiled broadly as I sat down. I wanted to kiss him, but it was a bit awkward and I just sat.

"How was your trip?" I asked, and we spent several minutes making small talk.

There was a lull in the conversation and Patrick began talking.

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

"Mia, as you know, our relationship these years," I began, "since all that business with Mitch, has been untraditional. To say the least."

Mia silently half smiled and nodded in agreement.

"But despite all that earlier conflict, we've found a way to make things work. Both of us sacrificed for the stability of the children, and look at them," I smiled and said. "Michael's on his way to his engineering degree, Cleo's been admitted to Stanford, and Claire's going to Notre Dame."