Heel and Toe

Devon's head bowed. It took her several attempts to find her voice. She finally croaked, "I know why, Reggie. It's in two parts. The first I've told you about: he almost had me that night a month prior. If I was back with him, I must be interested, after all I knew what to expect this time." She let out a large exhalation, "The other part is that... I had to know Reggie. I wasn't going to fuck him, but I had to know if I was a lost cause or not. The only way to know was to best him, and the only way to do that was ... to be back in that situation, again. T-To be back in a clench with him. I didn't do it to get pleasure, physical or mental, or by teasing him, or even by besting him. But I had to beat him to regain my self-worth."

Devon was very quiet her tears ran huge and plentifully, "Reggie, you still believe my making out with him and doing it more than once, made it an affair. But you also believed I didn't want him or the affair, that I didn't go looking for it, that I didn't instigate it, so you gave me a second chance. Reggie not for my pleasure or because I felt something for him, not because I wanted him in any way, but only because I had to best him ... Reggie ... I set up the meeting with him a month later. Reggie, I contacted him."

She shot a quick glance at me to see if she'd buried herself. I was shocked. Looking back, that not so wonderful condition was the best she could have asked for.

"Although my mother wanted to see her would-be beau again, she didn't talk me into it. I convinced her what I was going to do and that she had to be my wingman because she'd started the whole mess. She hated the idea. I countered it was the least she could do to see me safely back in my marriage that she accidentally jeopardized. That night Mom didn't realize he was keeping my drinks topped off, so she was keeping me supplied with liquid courage because she wanted me to find out what I needed to know that night and never have to repeat what I planned. Between them they got me a lot drunker than I'd ever planned to be.

"Reggie, Mom saw what a mess I was the night she had to take me home. She was ready to throw up thinking she'd pushed me into something that was going to cost my marriage. She never wanted me that compromised, Reg. She was heartbroken I'd gone so far. For the first time in her life, she feared her perfect little girl was a slut."

Devon was quiet for a long time. I didn't rush her or try to focus her on anything this time. I just waited with her in my arms. She began to shake off her malaise, she wanted to finish this, "So, I had two hot encounters with him, but Reggie I got my answers. This will be rough Reggie, but even compromised, drunk, having been corralled by him, and with him... fingering me, the second time I called it off."

She sighed heavily. "Reg, I was scootching back into the car. She shook her head, it obviously displayed a much more pornographic portrait than I thought. As I reached out to pull him in the car with one hand my other arm held all my weight. My legs were splayed as I backwards crab walked into the car, and he just put his fingers there." She blushed furiously in shame. I was pretty turned on and I guess it was all too easy. I guess I was too easy. I don't want you to think that had been going on before. That is pretty frickin' intimate. As you saw it didn't last long." She couldn't face me, "I'm so damn sorry, Reg."

Once again, Devon didn't dare look at me. She missed a surprisingly impassive face. Yes, she was guilty as sin but not of wanting anything to do with him. I was surprised how well I was taking it. I believed in her again, so I had to figure out how this fit and if it changed anything. I certainly didn't feel the red-hot flame of betrayal. This was the missing piece I'd sought! It was what I wanted: for Devon to trust me enough to come clean and let me decide how I felt about it, not preclude my decision by not trusting me and withholding.

"Reggie, there's nothing that makes me happier than being your wife. We both had to know exactly how bad of a wife I am. You may think I committed adultery even though I'm still clinging to the fact that I didn't go all the way. You may think I committed adultery by seeing him for a while and by finally arranging to see him myself. I'm not trying to split hairs here," she cringed at her words. "I don't know anyone who would consider what happen intercourse: h-he wasn't IN me. I don't mean halfway or a third, his tip never penetrated. Please tell me Reg: do you think I screwed him? Did I betray you by setting up a ... a date so I could prove I had enough discipline to be your wife? I'll set my store by your opinion. I've tried to reset everything to how you think. You've been honest and true and I... I wasn't then, so your ways must be better!"

"And that's it, Dev? That's finally all of it? If there's anything else, please tell me now."

She shook her head, "That's all there was, I held nothing else back. I just couldn't add to all the rotten behavior you had pictures of that I'd set up the encounter. If I added that to the pyre that night you'd never have listened to the explanation. The "why" was extremely important but you had to be ready to hear it. It would've been too much that night; the scales would have tipped. The sound of your heart breaking in your ears would've drowned out anything else I said."

I tried to be gentle while I made my point, "Dev, you should have come to me. WE should have been making the decisions together."

She shook her head again, "Reg, you never would have given me permission to see him again. You can see that either as my cutting you out of the decision and betraying you by seeing a man with a physical tryst in mind. Or you can see it as making this moment possible." Devon swallowed hard, "You need honest information to decide whether to keep me or send me away. You have it now. If I didn't go that night neither one of us would have complete confidence in me. Would we survive that?"

My lips stuck to my teeth, "I don't doubt your conviction but if you hadn't gone my investigators would never have caught you cheating. I wouldn't be in a position of having to decide our fate now. I hope you would've straightened up and flown straight then come back to explain what the hell you'd been doing for your mom and how you'd been compromised as a result. But you'd also be able to say as soon as you saw it you got the hell out and came straight to me. I would never have been made to wonder if you were still with me."

Devon reeled from that while quickly adding, "I-I couldn't touch you Reg. I had so much guilt. I was sure you could see what I'd done and in fact you did. I only came up with the ridiculous plan of testing myself by being with him again because I was desparate to be with you again."

Now I had to nod glumly.

"Reggie, I did plan to come to you and admit everything. I just didn't know what to admit. If I'd failed, if I turned out to be just a slut, I would've knelt at your feet and told you everything, even my own negative appraisal of exactly what I was. If you'd then wanted to keep me in chains in the basement to ensure I was yours exclusively, I would have thanked you. We both know; however, you would have ended us. You would have walked off into the sunset crushed by my betrayal and inability to control myself. You never would have believed I loved you. Of all the incomplete truths, deceptions and hidden behavior, you're dealing with, that lie would have been the most obscene.

"Now you can see the difference. Now you can see why I did what I did and give them fair judgement. Now you know I don't have any feelings for him, well, nothing positive. Motivation does matter some: it's a big difference between my trying to know my nature versus I'm a cock hungry slut. But I was still wrapped in his arms.

"Did I do it right to hide that last detail, Reggie? Does it make you hate me. What man can believe his wife wants to make out with another man to prove herself worthy of her husband? I know it sounds ludicrous, but you felt my pulling away, my fear of being around you. I had to find a way back, I had to know if I was worthy of you in any way at all.

"It will be the biggest tragedy of our lives if you dump me for the wrong reason: because you don't think I love or respect you. I only held back the last bit of truth: that I set up the last meeting with him, because both you and I were too raw. I couldn't have explained it properly that night, and you couldn't process it properly -- then. Now I pray we can."

She opened her hands unconsciously showing there was nothing else held back, she then closed them together and dropped them to her lap.

Devon didn't look up as she spoke, "You know everything now. Have I killed us? Can you keep me? I told you he was a good kisser once, I thought that was a horrific thing to tell you! It still haunts me; I remember your face when I said it. Did I do wrong by not admitting the details, Reg? Did I? Do you, can you, still love me?"

A harsh word would have destroyed her. I thought and thought, I didn't think Devon could lie this convincingly. It was hard to stop believing something I'd believed for two years. What she'd done was horrible, we both knew that. But she'd done less than I believed. Asking myself the big question, did I believe she'd done less? It seemed right and, thank heavens, it felt right. Which meant we'd navigated it all; she'd finally come clean. The last thing I wanted to do was go backwards. I forced myself to focus on the good point. I smiled, "How about that? You really didn't screw him."

Devon looked at me shocked I'd gone back there. She hadn't expected that.

Her hope began to rise, "Really? Really! You're okay with this?" She shot back as if she'd slapped herself silly. "Well, of course you aren't. I mean, you really do believe me, don't you? Oh Reg, I wasn't sure this day would ever come. Thank you, Reggie! I know there's still a lot I have to answer for, but somehow in my mind going that extra mile of actual intercourse was simply unforgivable. If you believe me, I-I think we really have a chance you may keep me!"

Now it was my turn to be shocked, "You've stuck with this for almost two years believing I was going to send you away in the end?"

"Yes, but the only way to avoid it was to fight for you. If you could believe me, we'd have a chance, but I just couldn't see you ever forgiving my ... screwing him." She saw a concern in me. "Oh my gosh! You thought it was even worse than that!" Her hands snapped over her mouth.

I nodded, "I told you I thought you'd ... made love. I thought it was something bordering on loving emotion, at the very least shared mutual passion, not this competition you had, not testing yourself. Devon, I really saw you in a motel room rolling with him for hours in ecstatic bliss. I was convinced it wasn't just sex, but that you were falling for him. You can't just have sex; intimacy means something to you. It's weird, but I'm glad you were screwed up this way as opposed to the way I imagined. I don't approve of anything you did, going all the way back to hiding the nature of your first night out with your mother. But I see it this new way, I do." I smiled, "I do. I really do." The feeling was like the weather had suddenly changed. It was impossible not to feel warmer and brighter.

Devon sat up in bed her eyes glowed with intensity. "Reg, maybe kneeling doesn't work when you're lying down, but I have to say this. It must be said aloud, and I feel compelled to kneel while saying it.

"Coming to my senses, realizing what I'd done, and knowing how wonderful you were during the process, has had a profound effect on me. I loved you already as well as having a schoolgirl crush on you all this time. Honest Reg, the whole time! Romantically that's a perfect world for me.

"Yet, I had to face some inexplicable facts. Some I hadn't allowed myself to see. I was that totally sold on you, yet I'd been seeing another guy, looked forward to it, had been drinking and touching him, dancing and... necking with him. Then making out. And now I'd been naked in a car trying to masturbate him with my body while he rubbed my most erogenous zones. I didn't go looking for it, but I'd done it. It was fact! How had that snuck up on me? There was no desire or motivation for it, yet it had occurred. I was and am dumbfounded. I have had to add another fact: I am not worthy of you.

"Contrasting my devastating attack on you, were your actions and treatment of me. You were honest, straight forward, and loving. What was your reward for those exemplary attributes? The wife you adored ripped off her clothes so she could rub the body she pledged to you on another man in the most sexual of fashions, in an energetic attempt to make him climax. That's not fair; you've been gypped. You shouldn't be saddled with me!

"I-I've tried to become worthy. I've dealt with much: I feel I can rely on myself again. I had character flaws, weaknesses, and self-centered proclivities I was completely blind to. I believe I've strengthened what was weak and locked away that which was unworthy.

"Except there's no way to hide or mollify what was unbecoming. I did those things! My shame has not much diminished. I hate it, though I'm unsure I want it to diminish. I not only deserve it, but it keeps me straight. It also makes me appreciate you all the more.

"Reggie, I love you. After seeing you fight for me after I wounded you so badly, I adore you even more now than before."

Now Devon looked at me with the most intense look I'd ever seen, the eyes truly must be the windows to the soul.

"I promise you there's not been a day since you confronted me that I've not said a prayer of thanks that you were still with me. I prayed for your strength and your healing. I'm incredibly thankful for your presence, your love, our marriage -- you! That's every day. Every Day, Reggie. Every ... single ... day!

It's weird how things worked. I believed her. I could feel her sincerity, she was completely genuine and sacrificing herself for me because of what she felt I deserved.

My negative belief faded until it was no longer important. Devon had lived knowing there was a bit more to the story. I'd lived thinking there was more to the story than there actually was. We bore those thoughts as weighty burdens. Now we could both let the images in our mind fade: my imaginary worse ones, and her real more-than-bad-enough ones.

Devon healed me of my pain, and I healed her of her guilt. Together we built a new rapport to replace the uncertainty. We'd lost the natural naivete of just expecting the other to be our own. We had that expectation back and appreciated it much more. There were times when she looked at me like I was a legendary figure of some sort. I hope every man who has ever seen a woman look at him that way will raise a toast to her whether she is still around or not, for giving us the gift of knowing what it feels like to be a man at his pinnacle.

* * * * * *

Part Four: Reggie

Frequently Devon, Marta and I traveled to nearby races. I invested in a trailer to tow the DBR1. As the Aston only had room for two, we could all be together in the truck conversing happily for our trips. We spent two summers with the three of us and the DBR going to races. The third year was spent with Devon pregnant. The fourth summer she was again. The truck and trailer were a strategy that worked well when we started having kids too. There was one interesting interlude.

When the kids started to be old enough, they had to be corralled, we knew our summer racing weekends were going to change becoming less frequent. Marta was happy, she could still be picked up by one of her friends and attend the races if she wanted. She was more excited to have actual grandkids she could be with and dote on all the time. We may take the DBR out to a parade once or twice a summer now. Our youngest was almost two. We were going to start on a third soon. We figured on a five to ten-year hiatus before going to the races became a regular thing again. I think we knew the time for that had passed in our present and that if it ever came back, it would be quite different, though I thought it would still be fun.

* * * * * *

Our race wasn't completely run yet. Both my wife and Marta now thought I hung the moon. Neither could quite believe I came back for them. My wife knew my belief was even though she hadn't crossed the finish line, racing with that guy constituted an affair. I lived with the scar that my wife cheated on me. Devon knew that knew even though mitigated by not having intercourse with him, that my world was comprised of a marriage saved after I broke up my wife's affair.

Besides loving me to the max, Devon did all the standard things: offering me tons of sex which I accepted, offering me sex we had not much engaged in, anal for example which once again I engaged in and found quite cathartic. Sorry, not sorry. And there were the kids. Devon is clever and never tied them to her affair, that was smart, why saddle them with that scar too? Besides if we were unable pass the past, I never would have had kids with her. So here we were almost five years later flying fine, straight, and true. Our lives were pretty wonderful, yet Devon and Marta still wanted to do something more for me for precisely that reason. No, I didn't have a mother daughter tag team match. Come on folks! James was my buddy and occasional teammate. Just say no.

The two conspired again, this time to my benefit. They both felt they owed me. They both loved me, and they both wanted to make some sort of statement. My wife couldn't get over that I thought she cheated on me, and I still kept her. That I went back and helped her mother, finding a way to make it work for her as well, blew their minds. I was never going to find a beautiful woman more motivated to reward me and keep me happy. They came up with a winning idea.

I had been a racer once, I'd raced Miatas, Golfs, and assorted others. I kept the expenditure down by competing in those cars opting for more time behind the wheel instead of a more potent ride. I got a couple of chances to race higher performance hardware and reveled in it. I was pretty good. I met James and we raced his DBR1. He was pretty well off, but DBRs were never bargain basement. He'd gotten the thing as a bit of a junker, when it was too old to be competitive and too new to be collectable. Fixing it up set him back a bit but what he had afterwards was a storybook car. None were ever more elegant or beautiful. Carroll Shelby even won Le Mans in one. Yes, that Carroll Shelby.

I told Devon what the thing was worth before I took Marta back out to do the parade laps. I kept her from finding out it was now worth more than her house by a substantial margin. Even though insured it would have made her too nervous to enjoy the festivities. Devon and I were doing well, I worked in investments. Instead of getting my own car we bought the trailer and truck to haul Marta's. We also paid half the insurance on the thing as we had not informed Marta of its value. This was a mixed blessing. Spending that much on the DBR kept me from getting my own classic and working on it. Then again, I got to work on a literal piece of history and drive it sometimes too. Hmmm, the DBR or a Miata? Simplest decision ever! Choosing between competing and not competing was a different story.

My wife was well aware of this and also how happy I would've been to have my own car. My own car would've meant regular competition. That was a no brainer versus a parade car, except I'd decided even before Devon's affair that I couldn't race and keep her. It was a sacrifice I made for her family, or my family, or however you think I should phrase that. For my wife I was some sort of hero that always slit my wrist for the betterment of others. Hell, I didn't have it bad at all, but who was I to dissuade her from her preferred image of me?