For the Greater Good - Conclusion

"Okay," I replied. "I'll call them later and try to patch things up a bit."

I did speak to my parents separately, and both apologized for their behavior. It was as Jill had told me - they couldn't suddenly believe that Ashley would do something like that to me. I told them, going forward, they'd need to talk to her about the specifics and hear her side of the story. While being diplomatic, I felt anything but.

Ashley returned on schedule. Tom arrived a day before her. My wife seemed off somehow, but I couldn't tell what it was about. When I asked, she told me she had a lot on her mind. She was home for a week and then was leaving again. Tom wasn't part of her next trip, but he had been asked back to Atlanta in three weeks, for more testing, and so other professionals could study Ashley's delivery system in real-time.

On the third night, Ashley shocked me, although I probably shouldn't have been surprised.

"Kurt, can we talk please," she asked tentatively.

I sat down opposite her. "Honey," she said softly, "things aren't going well for us right now..." She saw I was about to interrupt but waved me off. "I'm not saying it's your fault. The beginnings of it are mine, and they still are, with me being gone so much. I have an idea - a thought - that I'd like your opinion on."

She was fiddling with her hands and I could tell her mouth was dry. "I'm wondering if we should take some pressure off ourselves, maybe take an official break from our relationship. What are your..."

"An official break!?" I burst out, cutting her off. "What? Have you found a replacement already?"

I knew she hadn't, and I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I also realized just exactly how stressed I was, and how deep my distrust in her had become. Ashley left the room sobbing and without another word. I slept in the guestroom anyway, so I didn't bother her. In the morning she tried once again.

"That hurt me, Kurt," she started. "But I guess I should have expected it. I was asking for a trial separation. Not a divorce, and no there is no one else. I'm away. We can't get any traction at fixing our marriage. To me, this is about healing us, not driving a bigger wedge."

"This is a lot to hit me with," I told her honestly. "I need a day to think about it."

On the fourth day, after my wife put in a ten-hour day on her computer, we sat down with a glass of wine. I handed her a stack of papers forlornly. She studied them closely, and then she looked into my eyes.

"Are you sure?" she asked. I nodded.

"This can be a bridge for us," she continued. "I did something horrible to you. My apologies aren't cutting it. I can't make anything up to you or even show you how much I value you as my husband and my friend because I'm not here often enough. You don't trust me. That hurts, but my therapist has helped me understand, and I get it."

"Since when do you have a therapist?" I asked.

"Since I hired one, two weeks ago," she responded. "We meet twice a week on Zoom, or by phone. I had an appointment this morning. Like it or not, it isn't about your brother's life anymore. Our lives have changed because of this. When things settle down, and I'm back here full-time, I want to be able to give you something concrete to believe in. Something you can count on, and that starts with my idiosyncrasy being cured."

That was a step in the right direction. When I'd printed the paperwork from the internet the night before I'd been damned hopeless.

"Kurt," she said my name so sweetly. "I won't profess to understand how men think, but baby, I've known you a long time. You have your probl... issue. I can see from the times we've tried that it's killing you, and if you can't solve that, or get reassurances from me, I don't think we have a chance. You need to work through it. Probably a therapist of your own, maybe even another partner. That will also hurt me, but I'm committed."

She was losing it again. I hated to see the strong woman I'd known for so long crumble like she was.

"I'm being brutally honest up front," She added. "While I'm working diligently with my therapist, I cannot promise that I won't get stuck working on a project while I'm away. I hope you understand what I mean by that. I won't cheat on you again, as I've already promised. I'm hoping I don't get stuck while away, but my therapist says this will take time.

"When I'm home, though," she went on. "I'd like us to work on ourselves, and that means spending quality time, and yes, sleeping together. If you want sex, then you'll get it. I know I'll want it. Hell, I want it now. But that doesn't mean I'm going to pressure you. I want these roadblocks dealt with so that when the science slows down, we have a clear path to reconnect."

Well, she'd put it all out there for me. She'd spent some time thinking things through, both on her end and on mine. Then it hit me what she'd said. She wouldn't cheat, but if she needed doggy sex, to get 'unstuck'...

"So, the separation," I asked with a scowl, "is a means for you to technically not cheat when you get stuck?"

"Not exactly," she responded quickly as if expecting the question. "I love you, and now I've hurt you - terribly - and I don't know what I'd do if I ever hurt you like that again. As I said, I'm working very hard with my therapist to find an alternative 'unsticking' method, but in the meantime, I just can't take the chance of ruining everything for us."

She hesitated with a tear running down her cheek. "If I haven't already. But I... I desperately want to do the work necessary to put our marriage back together. I know it might be hard for you to believe, but I absolutely want to grow old with you. That's why I'm giving you wide latitude with regard to your - mojo - while I'm trying to figure out how to put a stop to this weird need of mine."

Ashley's words sounded good. I wasn't sure they held any true meaning. She'd be on the road for six more months, and then less frequently, and there would be plenty of opportunity to get laid, aside from the doggy sex. However, if we were going to make a concerted effort, then her idea seemed most logical. Logical, except for one thing.

"Ashley, I have a few conditions," I said stoically. "First, if one or both of us ends up having sex - even for your idiosyncrasy - then an STD test must be given to the other the day you arrive home. Secondly, I don't want to know about it, if you get stuck and sex is your resolution. I couldn't take having to think about it the entire time you were away."

My wife took some time to consider what I'd said. Her eyes fluttered slightly like they always did when she was analyzing. "I agree to your terms," she said, sitting up straight. "I'll do whatever it takes to get us back on track and to where we were."

"There's number three," I answered her quickly, having been given to opportunity to say another thing that had been on my mind. "I'd like you to think hard, really consider our new relationship if this all works out. I've given it a great deal of thought, and I seriously doubt we can ever go back... to where we were. If we have any chance, it's going to be both of us focusing on a new us - a new relationship. For me, at least, I no longer see that past as viable."

Ashley seemed stunned, but after a few seconds, she simply nodded her approval.

Life is stranger than one can ever imagine.

Ashley would go away for a week or two at a time. She was more or less consulting on a device she'd already made and patented, so there was less chance for her to get stuck. She never handed me a negative STD panel, so I took that as a good thing.

I spent more time with my family, especially Melinda, and especially when Tom was also away. She couldn't do everything by herself with two kids, and we all helped her out, but soon enough, I'd go over and do the little things she needed help with.

She'd provide me with a nice dinner in return, and I became much closer to my niece and nephew. A typical night would involve me reading them a story, while Melinda cleaned up after dinner, and then we'd sit in the living room with a glass of wine. Occasionally, we'd watch something on TV, but often, we'd simply sit and talk. Melinda had plenty to say and probably had missed that when Tom got his cancer. I really warmed up to her during those months.

Twice, I broke down. The first time was well-planned because I had to see for myself if my pecker was permanently broken or not. I hired a high-priced escort and spent the night with her at the Hilton across town. I was happy to learn my cock worked exceptionally well. She was over the top, and she taught me a few things I didn't know. Additionally, she was patient and just the right mixture of careful and alluring to make me comfortable, after the discomfort of having to tell her my story. Why I felt obligated to do that, I'll probably never know.

The second was after our legal trial separation was stamped. I wanted it to be legit, while Ashley was hoping to keep it off the public record. It was the fourth time that Tom went out of town to a research lab with Ashley. Melinda was incredibly and increasingly worried about her husband and my wayward wife. I'd done all I could to temper her concerns, but she was adamant that Tom had become increasingly distant and distracted.

On the third night, after the kids were asleep, Melinda got into personal issues between her and my brother. I grew up with the guy, so no, I didn't like what I heard. She painted a provocative case that Tom was at the very least, infatuated with Ashley, and ignoring his family. She told me that my parents had also noticed and were growing concerned as well.

I asked her point blank if she thought Tom had slept with Ashley. She broke down sobbing and when she regained control, said that if he hadn't already, he was certainly going to if he kept going to these projects and conferences. She would call him each night, and he rarely called her, but Melinda knew that still left plenty of time for the two.

Then she reminded me about Ashley's idiosyncrasy. I told her about Ashley's promise, and her counterpoint was how strange the two had acted upon returning from that first trip.

I held Melinda on the sofa that night. We spooned and finally, Melinda nearly begged me to have sex with her. She said she had been without for so long and was desperate. I felt strange about it. Knowing she was my brother's wife made me uncomfortable in a variety of ways.

Melinda and I fell asleep together in the same spooning position. We were both talked out. In the hard light of day, the following morning, I told Melinda that I cared for her more than she knew and that I'd enjoyed my time with her and the kids. I was honest in that I'd feel very guilty among other things if we were to do as she suggested. I also reiterated that Ashley and I were on the path to reconciliation.

Two days later, that all went out the window. I was working from home that day since our offices were being renovated. Melinda came hysterically knocking on my door, and she cried for twenty minutes after I let her in.

"I couldn't reach Tom all day yesterday," she cried and complained. "Finally, this morning he returned my call. I asked him why he didn't answer and ignored my texts. Silence. He wouldn't answer me - for a long time. Then he started making half-assed excuses."

Melinda broke down then. She looked like she might faint, so I reached for her and held her tightly. I knew what she'd been thinking. After she calmed down, we sat in my living room and Melinda said she just knew Tom had slept with Ashley. She knew him too well, she concluded.

"Okay," I began, "what time do the kids get out of school?"

"Why?" she asked somewhat bewildered.

"You're in no condition to do motherhood today," I told her. "Let me come over and keep the kids occupied for a while. I can even help by preparing dinner."

Melinda raised an eyebrow. "Kurt, everyone in the family knows you can't cook." She said with pity.

"Yeah, well," I replied, "I can do a mean spaghetti if you have some canned sauce."

She smiled sweetly. "I'll take you up on your offer, as long as we just order pizza. That will be fine."

I helped her get the kids to bed, while she cleaned up the kitchen. I'd become enough of a regular fixture at my brother's house that the kids weren't nearly as excited by my presence.

My nightly call with Ashley was also strained that night. Dozens of times, she'd heard the kids rabblerousing in the background, but that night she seemed uptight about my being there. She even asked why I was. I wanted to lash out and tell her I had to comfort a grieving wife who'd lost her husband, but there wasn't any proof of that.

I slept in Melinda's bed that night. There were plenty of mixed thoughts even as she gently dragged me there by the hand. First, I knew how wrong it was. If I succumbed to temptation, Melinda and I would be no better than our spouses, not to mention we had zero evidence of foul play on their part. Second, I had developed real feelings for Melinda, beyond a sister - well, sister-in-law - and a friend. I could see myself easily being sucked in.

The truth was I'd been lonely for quite some time. That wasn't my inner excuse to me, it just was. Curing cancer wasn't some small feat. Ashley and I wouldn't even begin to move forward until she was no longer being pulled in a thousand directions by her colleagues. In all my time thinking about our future, I finally understood that indifference would likely form between us, and that would be one more hurdle for us to jump. Our lives were moving in different directions.

Despite my trepidations, I gave in and had sex with Melinda that night. I started with the comforting and the holding, and the whispered reassurances, but that led to more.

Terms of endearment, my hand lightly wiping her tears from her cheek. Her soft hand caressed mine, and from there, a kiss. The kind of kiss that explodes into unbridled passion. The kind of unbridled passion that gives way to desperation. Limbs flying awkwardly, night clothes quickly being shed - all while lip-locked. There was no foreplay. She was under me as soon as her panties were off, pulling me - not just my pelvic area, but as if she was literally trying to pull all of me into all of her. It was just sex. Just sex, if you were a casual observer, as I had been in that napping room. But upon closer inspection, our eyes bored into each other's as we longingly gave ourselves to the other. For Melinda and me, there was nothing casual happening.

In the morning, I realized I'd become an equal to my wife. Not as in even, or revenge; no, I'd been just as guilty. I didn't feel good about myself, and I couldn't talk to Melinda about it, because she had the same shitty look on her face.

Not much was said over breakfast, with both of us lost in our thoughts. I was hoping the kids didn't notice. With a meek 'goodbye,' I left for work.

It was hard to focus all day. My thoughts drifted from Melinda to Ashley, and then all-encompassing thoughts of the last several months flooded over me, all the way back to when Tom was diagnosed.

I found myself right back at Melinda's that night. The previous night had been one of the best for me in quite some time. I didn't know if she felt the same, but I was determined to find out as soon as the kids were in bed.

"Can we talk about last night?" I asked, handing her a glass of wine.

She came out of her reverie and nodded. She didn't seem willing to go first so I jumped in.

"Last night was..."

"Wrong," she interrupted.

"Well, that wasn't what I was going to say," I replied. "But go ahead."

She stared at me for several moments before finishing. "It was wrong," she began. "But it was also so right. It felt right. So why do I feel so guilty?"

"Because you're a good person," I told her, hoping I didn't sound too stupid, given the obvious. "Look, neither of us has any concrete proof that our spouses are doing the same, but the strong suspicions are eating away at us both. I think it shows what a good person you are, to feel guilty about doing something you already suspect your husband of. For me, I already know my wife cheated, and if she's been screwing my brother, it would just be a final nail in her coffin."

"It's different for you," she stated. "That's very clear. I'm sure on some level you feel vindicated. I just feel horrible guilt. I'm also afraid for my marriage. I don't know what to do, and what we did, it only muddies the waters. I almost lost Tom to cancer. Now I'm screwing his brother in his own bed."

I explained or tried to, that there was no vindication - that it wasn't a vengeful act. I poured my heart out to Melinda, telling her how I felt about her. Telling her how I felt, holding nothing back.

Despite all the talk and all the reservations, we ended up in bed again that night and made slow, sweet love. Then we fell asleep in each other's arms.

In the morning, Melinda and I agreed to cool it. We needed to find out what was happening with our spouses, and then we could decide things between us. I slept at my own home that night, feeling very lonely. I couldn't see a way forward for Ashley and me. I couldn't see a way forward with Melinda either, especially if Tom wasn't cheating on her, or found out about us.

Just when you think life has hit its strangest limit, life proves you wrong.

Ashley and Tom returned three days after my last time with Melinda. She wasn't acting strange. She was openly aloof and distracted. At least a dozen times, I thought she was about to say something, but she didn't. I'd be damned if I was going to start it for her.

Melinda called me at work the next day. "Did Ashley say anything to you?" she asked.

"No, nothing," I answered. "But she was walking on eggshells from the minute she arrived. Anything with Tom?"

"Nothing," she said, "but I know him, and something is very wrong. He was trying way too hard to be pleasant and in the moment. I can tell something monumental is on his mind. He was on the phone a few times this morning, and then he went out to lunch with Jill."

Later that afternoon, my sister called me. She didn't ask if she could meet me after work, she demanded it. Wearily, I agreed. Part of me wanted the drama to end, and if she had something new to shed light on, I was all for it.

I walked towards the picnic tables in the park we agreed on. Jill heard me when I was behind her, and she turned to face me.

"Are you having sex with Melinda?" she angrily asked.

My hesitance was my answer. Jill hung her head. "What the hell is wrong with this family?" she almost yelled looking back into my face. "It wasn't enough that Tom almost died?"

Overridden with guilt, I simply looked at the ground. She had plenty more to say.

"Mom and Dad know," she stated. "You can expect maximum backlash. Dad is furious. I'm just ashamed. Ashamed of all of you. Especially you, Kurt. You were always the good guy. The one I counted on to do right - to do the right thing."

I started to defend myself, but my sister held her open hand in my face. "I don't want to hear it. I can't talk to you right now." She got off the table and walked away, leaving me standing there. I guess it was time to go home and see how bad things were.

To my surprise, Ashley didn't say a word. It was almost like she'd been left out of the family business. I was sure that wouldn't last and thought about coming clean and then forcing her to do the same. But if she hadn't been intimate with Tom, which I believed she had, I'd look like a fool.

I wouldn't have long to wait. My mother called me just before I went to bed that night, and told me that Ashley and I needed to be at Tom and Melinda's house for dinner the following night at six. I didn't have the strength to argue about it.