For the Greater Good - Conclusion

For the Greater Good

Another 'life is strange' continuation.

There have been three continuations to Imhapless' story. All were written by great authors, in my humble opinion. They were good enough, in fact, that I put my ending on hold. I liked them all, and the different directions they took the original. So, I submitted a two-part series 'based' on an Imhapless story. Those two are "Future Pharming" and "Future Farming," and they will likely be published after this one, due to the nature and complexity of both.

Working on that project finally gave me a resolution on how I might write another decent ending. You'll be the judge of that. I'm taking license right off the bat with those other three because it seems we all agree that Ashley would return, end up at Tom and Melinda's and the family would all show up to celebrate and thank her. Or they'd end up at Kurt and Ashley's home. Either way, mine would be no different, so we're going to start in the evening after all the festivities conclude. I suggest you read the original first, if you haven't already - here: https://www.literotica.com/s/for-the-greater-good-1

Relax; it's just a story, people.

I arrived home from my brother's house, with Ashley only twenty minutes behind. She gave me a forlorn look as she came to find me sitting in the living room. There'd be plenty of time for our conversation in the morning, and I wanted to have a level head and a bit more time to consider how to approach her.

"Ashley," I said. "Our talk will need to wait until tomorrow. I'm too tired to get into this now."

She seemed relieved. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "Should we say nine-thirty?"

I nodded as I stood. Ashley came in for a hug, which I allowed. Mine wasn't as enthusiastic as hers and I'm sure she felt it. We walked up the stairs together, but when she turned towards our master suite, I went the other way into the guest room and closed the door.

I hadn't thought about doing that until I was sitting at my brother's house, lost in my head. Since Ashley had gotten such a late start home from her apartment at RCA, I decided that sleeping alone would be best. I wasn't going to have sex with her no matter what, but if my wife had been with Beltran or anyone else that morning, I certainly didn't want to sleep in the same bed.

There was no lock on the door. Either Ashley felt defeated, or hurt, or she realized that it would be counterproductive to make a big deal about it just then.

A good night's rest was not in the cards for me. I tossed and turned for at least two hours, anticipating my conversation with my wife, and how I was going to handle it. I came to no earth-shattering conclusions, other than one. Ashley was highly likely to make some sort of presentation in the morning. Some sort of production was more like it. But this wasn't a dissertation or some science conference. It was personal, and as such I wasn't going to allow her to make a mockery out of me or our six-year marriage. I would try my best to set the pace, while still allowing her plenty of space to explain - or hang - herself.

I finally dozed off, but restlessly. I was awake and out of bed by six-thirty, with only four good hours of sleep to show for it. I showered in the guest bathroom and headed down for coffee. I heard my wife moving around by seven, but she didn't come down until nine-twenty. I felt sure she'd prepared exactly as I'd surmised.

The thing was, I'd had three weeks of almost nothing but time to prepare. I knew what questions I needed answered. I knew that even after hearing those answers, I'd still need a lot of time to consider the impact. I knew that I'd have to interrupt her in order to get what I needed. I had absolutely no idea if I could stay with her or not. That would take time for me to mull over. I'd never been as decisive as my wife. I had to make 'pro' and 'con' lists even to solve work problems.

Ashley looked fearful for the first time since I'd met her. She was haggard too. I had been thinking back to the time when I was thirteen and had broken my mother's favorite vase. It was baseball season, and my last year in Little League. If I was going to be grounded, I'd miss out. I could remember, considering all the different options, which included blaming Tom. In the end, I came to realize that telling the truth and begging for mercy was the right answer. Ashley looked like she was smack dab in the middle of a similar situation. I hoped she didn't sneak out last night to have Chad help un-stick her.

"What you did last night was hurtful," she started. I hoped she wasn't going to play offense right out of the gate, but at least she provided me with a big opportunity without knowing it.

"Well," I replied unemotionally, "there was plenty of good reason, but I'll talk about that later."

I set a cup of coffee in front of her as she sat down, then I took a seat on the other end of the table. I immediately realized I was giving her power by treating it like a business meeting. It wasn't. I moved just as quickly to the chair beside her. Ashley mistakenly took that as a good sign.

"I want to apologize," she began. "First and foremost for my behavior at RCA. I know I've hurt you terribly..."

"Just so I'm on the same page, Ashley," I interrupted. "What exactly are you apologizing for?"

"You know what..." she was going to continue, but she saw my expression change and thought better of it. "For my behavior with Chad Beltran," she said quietly.

"And again, so I'm clear," I asked, then changed my tactic. "Just say it, for Christ's sake, Ashley. It's your confession and your dime, so let's not start out trying to sugar-coat it."

She looked stricken. Then her expression changed to one of determination. "For having sex with Chad," she said, then after a pause, "...four times."

"All right, continue," I told her sipping my coffee. I was already quite pleased with how the conversation was progressing. We were at the very beginning though.

"When I first got stuck, I tried with everything I had in me to work it out," she continued. "But I couldn't, and after two full days, the clock was ticking. I didn't think. I just needed to be unstuck. You know me well enough by now."

"Why?" I asked while she was taking her next big breath. "Why didn't you think, about me - about us? That's important, Ashley. It makes me wonder if you'll get to that point in the future, and I won't be thought of. It certainly makes me wonder if it's happened in the past."

"No!" she half-screamed. "I've never..." she realized as she said it. "I know I can't prove that now, but I swear to you on my life." She was also starting to understand this wasn't some dissertation or presentation. She didn't have the mic. I was going to keep asking questions.

"Kurt," she began again when I remained silent. "I swear I'll never do anything like that again. If I'd had my phone turned on that day, I'm sure I would have thought of you. I would have asked you to drive up to RCA."

"But then you lied to me," I said, getting pissed. "When we talked on the phone."

"No, Kurt!" she was getting more frantic by the minute. I'd never seen her like that before. "I simply didn't tell you everything. After Chad and me... I was unstuck within two hours, and we were all back to work."

"And what about the other times?" I knew that would need to be my last question for a bit, or the conversation was going to turn for the worse.

"I don't know," she looked down. "I've thought about that. I think in my mind, that since Chad had already volunteered once, well, it wouldn't make any difference. I know how stupid that sounds now, but we were all working so hard on the challenges to find a cure."

"Volunteered, did he?" I asked just before getting up to use the restroom. "Was there a waiting list?"

Ashley blushed crimson. "No."

"Wait a minute," I was turning red for another reason. "How many people know about this?"

I needed a minute. I told her not to answer until I returned. My wife was completely frazzled. As I splashed some cold water on my face, it dawned on me that I'd gotten most of what I wanted. It would probably be to my benefit to let her tell her story and ask questions afterward, lest she blew a gasket.

I returned to a woman crying. More coffee wouldn't settle me, but it was too early for alcohol. I asked my wife if she wanted another cup and she nodded. Finally, I sat back down, calmly and waited for her to answer the question I'd left hanging.

"Once I realized I couldn't solve the problem," she began again, "I gathered the group. I told them about my idiosyncrasy and asked if anyone could help. It was one of the most embarrassing things I've ever done."

I wanted to ask the obvious right then, but let it go.

"I figured Chad might step up," she said. "But it took him longer than I expected. He'd flirted quite a bit when I first arrived at RCA, but I guess flirting was one thing, while sex was another. He has a wife and child he loves at home.

"Anyway," she went on. "He finally offered in a small voice. I think he was embarrassed too. So, everyone on the team knows, and two receptionists as well. John gave them instructions, so I don't know exactly what they know, but I'm sure it's enough."

"And that was to keep me from finding out, right?" I asked snidely, breaking my promise to myself.

"Yes," she nodded, again looking down. "Once I was unstuck, I realized what I'd done. I was determined not to hurt you, so I left out the doggy sex when we talked. Chad was worried about how it might look if we were found out - doing it more than once - but I told him we'd be discreet, and that since he'd gotten the job done, I didn't want to ask one of the others to step in. I got stuck three more times... as you know."

I didn't know but now wasn't the time. She took a sip of her coffee. "I knew something was wrong the night after when we spoke. Then, when you brought Tom up and just left without a word, I was very worried, so I called you. You told me you were sick, and I didn't believe you."

"Imagine that." I nearly spat at her. Then I waved for her to continue.

"Yesterday morning, John and Chad helped me pack my apartment. After we were done, John asked us to come back inside so he could talk to us. When he told me that you'd been there, that you'd - seen us - my heart broke for you. John and Chad could see my angst and then John started with all the questions.

"What kind of man you were," she continued. "How I saw my return home going. What were the chances you'd be understanding or at least willing to work through what happened? I started crying, realizing that I probably ruined our marriage. I saved your brother and many others, but I wasn't sure that you'd forgive me."

I only harrumphed at her. The silence was so thick in that room. If she was trying to figure out how to fix things, she was failing miserably. Something must have crossed her mind, because she began to cry and left into the bathroom. I sat down hard in my chair. There was no way forward that I could see. I was lost, as was what we'd had. I thought about my family and my brother. I thought about the treachery, the betrayal, and the fact that somehow, I'd probably be expected to forgive it. Thinking about that right now would only bring self-pity and deprecation.

Realization at that moment brought a glimmer of clarity. If nothing else, I needed time. Time to think. Ashley had the bigger brain, and that made her the bigger bear, at least at thinking things through. I didn't want her influencing me. Constantly pushing and driving me to some reconciliation. I was pretty sure, she'd be too embarrassed to discuss any of this with my family.

Ashley returned to her seat without a word. She sipped her cold coffee, then looked up at me, her eyes pleading for... something.

"Where do we stand, Kurt?" she asked in such a melancholy tone, I almost told her we were done.

"I don't know," I told her, matching her tone as best I could. "But I still have questions for you."

She nodded, rose, and took my cup to refill both, before returning to her chair.

"You say four times," I began. "But I'm wondering and I want the truth, or we're finished - it seems to me that all that you've said about yesterday morning would have been accomplished much sooner than noon. Did you give that asshole a farewell fuck - you know for all his special help?"

Ashley stared at me, aghast. Then her shoulders slumped as if there was no good answer. "No," she said, quietly, sadly. "Once he understood the implications as John had laid them out, he got freaked and left with barely a good-bye."

"So, you were planning to fuck then," I accused her. "If not for John's... revelations?"

Once again, my eternally over-confident wife looked stricken. "No, Kurt." She looked like she might puke. "That was never a plan. It was only for the science. I... "

"Bullshit!" I shouted, unaware of how fast my rage could manifest. "Stop trying to take the easy way out, Ashley!" She shut up and looked away. None of this was going the way she wanted.

"You're going to need to leave," her head swiveled back quickly, and she started to speak. I waved her off, as I kept talking. "I want you to go stay with Tom and Melinda. For a week, maybe two." Again she wanted to say something.

"I need time," I said quieter then. "I need to think - to assess. Surely you understand that. I have no idea right now where we stand, or what I want. I know as a kneejerk, I want out of the marriage, but I know the price for that will be my relationship with my family. At least in the short-term."

She was thinking again. She was always thinking.

"I'll agree to that," she began. "But with some conditions."

Ashley was bargaining whereas she had nothing to bargain with. She realized her mistake instantly.

"I didn't mean it like that," she said apologetically. "I love you, Kurt. I want to grow old with you. I know I fucked up. I know you're incredibly hurt. I'm also sure I have plenty to make up for, and that it will take time. I just don't want us not to talk. So, I'll go, I'll even make up a good excuse, as long as we talk every night. You being trapped here in the house, inside your own head with all that pain, will surely be the end of us."

"I suppose," I said, but was thinking if her idea was sound or not.

"And," she continued, "I want you to tell me now what you're feeling, so I know. You've asked questions, but you've said nothing about your feelings. That worries me. Talk to me - then I'll leave. I'll leave you to your thoughts."

That stirred me - spurned me on. The bitch! She wanted to know - all right, then!

"I don't believe you," I said, trying to keep my volume down, but having a hard time. "About yesterday morning, for one, and I'm not sure we can ever get the trust back. I think Beltran was far better than you want to admit to me because otherwise, I don't think you'd have continued on with him. I know you well enough after all this time. You completely forgot about me - as a man, as your husband - for at least three weeks. You had him, and if I'm guessing right, he was very good, not just for getting you unstuck. That's why you kept it from me. It was at least good enough for you to make a conscious choice to seek forgiveness rather than permission. Or you wanted it to remain secret, effectively so you wouldn't need either."

She wanted to interrupt, I could tell, but she knew she needed to get all of it out of my brain and my heart, by way of my lips.

"You've humiliated me, Ash," I stated with venom. "My poor husband, Kurt, he's a decent guy and all, but he isn't here. So, if you could all keep his cuckolding a secret, we can get busy curing cancer.

"Then there's the fact that you went back to the well, three more times." I was on a roll and it was cathartic. "I don't see that as an idiosyncrasy. There you are, with all your big-brained Ph.D. types, All of you, with your God complexes. There's Beltran, getting to fuck a hot married woman - all in the name of science. Everyone else, sneering and chuckling about the dirty little secret. I'll never go to any function with you, ever again, if we stay together, Ashley. I'd never be able to tolerate the humiliation and disrespect. Then there's the two of you. It was four times, at least. So even if you didn't have sex - real sex, with him yesterday, it's clear he's the better man in your eyes. Maybe he got scared. Maybe he's worried about his wife and kid, but that's only temporary in my mind. He's had the forbidden fruit. He's not thinking about science, only all the other things he wants to do with you. If there are no consequences for him, he'll be back, sniffing around. And it doesn't matter if you tell him no, threaten to tell his wife. Eventually, you'll end up in bed with him, because you already chose him."

Ashley had that look again. Almost like she didn't know me. Maybe, like she never expected me to think so deeply as if she had the market cornered in that regard.

"On top of the trust, and disrespect," I went on. "There are the images. I can't get them out of my head. They're there at night, too. For almost three weeks now. I can't unsee that, Ashley. And I can't begin to imagine how I get past that."

Ashley was playing with her hair, a nervous habit I'd come to learn well through the years. She was deep in thought, swirling her coffee in the cup. I left her to it.

"Kurt," she finally said, looking me in the eye. "What you said - it's not accurate - however, I can see why you think it, and you're justified. I've hurt you deeply. Maybe beyond repair, but I don't love him. I'm not infatuated with him. I had no feelings for him at all. I just lost my way. Believe me, I know how stupid and hollow that sounds, but it's true.

"As I said," she continued, "I've hurt you. I've broken trust, and yes, I understand what you meant about respect as well. I think I'd feel the same if things were reversed. The fact remains that I love you. I don't know how, but I'll discover a way back for us. I'll do whatever it..."

"That's another thing," I cut her off. "You're looking at this like a project. It isn't. You cheated - four times, at least. You want to make it up to me. If you keep treating it as a science problem, as an equation, you're not going to be successful. That I promise you."

"Please, Kurt," she glossed over what I'd just said. "Stop saying 'at least.' I promise I'm not lying about that."

"Well," I told her. "Therein lies part of the real issue. You put me on a shelf for three weeks. That's how I see it. You had your multiple sessions with that asshole, and he'll be back to finish what you two started, or eventually, you'll seek him out. Right now, Ashley, that is my reality. You'll have to prove me wrong, and that isn't going to happen through some dissertation.

"You'll have to prove me wrong, before we can go any further, with any kind of reconciliation." I had but that one opportunity before she left, to give her a glimpse of the task at hand. "I don't know how you'll accomplish that, but it's all on you. If you can't, we'll be headed for divorce. If you tell anyone in my family, and humiliate me further, then it's also divorce. At least we don't have kids. You can get a new place, and I'll stay in the house until we can sell it."

She had a look on her face like, this is my house too, but she wisely held her tongue. She seemed stunned that the last part of our conversation was already planning who'd get what.

"All right, Kurt," she resigned herself. "What time shall we talk each night?" I told her to text me later.

Ashley packed some clothes. She already had her toiletries in her other bag. In an hour, she kissed me on the cheek, apologized again, and left.