Let the Punishment Fit the Crime

As my resistance grew weaker, I noticeably altered my behavior. I started to walk around the house like a man with guilty secrets. When I talked about my day, suddenly, the name "Kay" became conspicuous by its absence.

At first, Jean tried valiantly to ignore the hints that Kay was getting to me. Rather, she redoubled her efforts to win me back. But I made it hard to ignore the obvious. She found out about our lunches. I started to "work late" on occasion and even made up excuses on one or two occasions to go out at night. Jean sadly watched me leave, knowing that I was sneaking away to meet Kay for coffee or a drink.

I let Jean "discover" a few emails that were sent to Kay from my home computer. The emails intimated that, for now, Kay and I were "just friends", but that status was subject to change. I hoped that Jean would make the comparison between my actions and her relationship with Bert. How the mere act of hiding my relationship with Kay was a violation of the marriage.

I was acting guilty for Jean's benefit, but the guilt was not entirely feigned. At nights lying awake beside Jean, I was forced to face the truth. Kay and I had developed a close emotional bond. It was hidden under the veneer of the fake affair, but sharing our revenge had given us a common core upon which our mutual attraction could develop. It didn't help that Kay continued to remind me that her wish was for our fake affair to mutate into a real one.

I hadn't planned it, but my attraction to Kay was growing stronger every day. Our emotional connection was as strong, if not stronger than the bond Bert had cultivated with Jean.

I kept waiting for Jean to break. To call me on my actions before they went too far. I wanted my "affair" with Kay to end before we went all the way. My motivation might have been a desire to keep some of the moral high ground, but more likely it was because of my own growing guilt over what I was now feeling for Kay.

But the challenge never came. Instead, as the evidence that I was falling from grace became more pronounced, Jean's confidence in me waned and the sadness in her eyes increased. She never challenged me when I came home late or acted guilty. Rather, she excused herself and avoided me until she was able to be cheerful again. This tore my heartstrings and I started to respond more and more like the classic guilt-ridden spouse having an affair.

Despite my misgivings, we continued on with our plan to escalate the lesson. It was time for the friendship to become something physical. We started small. I would come home with my hair artfully mussed or a button undone. My clothing would bear a faint vestige of Kay's perfume or a small lipstick mark. There was no evidence that we were making love, but Jean could read the signs that it was coming.

As the physical evidence grew, Jean's response got more and more fatalistic. Instead of getting angry, she grew resigned. She adopted a painful acceptance of my supposed transgressions. She took to staring at me wistfully or snuggling into me at night as if trying to tell me that she would still be there when I had finished my fun. She tried to behave as if nothing was wrong, but her behavior grew forced and unnatural. We still made love, talked and planned as if nothing was wrong, but how long could we ignore the elephant living in our living room?

It might have been easier for her if she had a close friend to discuss the matter with. I could have enlisted the friend and maybe, just maybe precipitated the confrontation we so desperately needed for closure. Then we could move on to resolution of our problems. But Jean internalized her despair. She wouldn't talk to her friends at work and was ashamed to talk to our friends in the neighborhood.

The unspoken tension between Jean and I was also beginning to affect the kids. The strain of trying to act as if nothing was wrong was wearing on both of us and the kids reacted to the strain. They were acting out as well. Our happy little family was falling apart.

It finally got to the point where I was ready to call the whole thing off. The marriage was reaching the breaking point and I didn't want to risk the damage that a long protracted breakup would have on the kids. With trepidation, I told Kay that it was time to stop our "affair". Jean had gotten a taste of my pain, which would have to be good enough. It was time to sit down with Jean, bring everything out in the open and see if there was enough left to rebuild the marriage.

To her credit, Kay didn't try to talk me out of it. I wouldn't have blamed her if she had tried. She had to have mixed feelings about my fixing things with Jean. In some ways she had a vested interest in splitting us up. She knew that if my marriage survived, I would never agree to have an affair or sexual relationship with her.

Despite her wishes, as my anguish deepened, Kay was there for me. She acted like a true friend. Even though she knew that it meant that we might never get together, she was willing to help me. She could see how much saving my marriage meant to me. Reluctantly she sacrificed her own desires and threw her energies into helping me save my marriage.

Kay agreed that it was time to bring matters to a close; time for her to divorce Bert and for me to try to save what I had with Jean. I had decided I needed to end things before we made it look to Jean like Kay and I had made love. With Jean's fatalistic attitude, that could have created an irreversible wedge between us. She might accept it, but things could never be the same again.

In order for her psyche to accept the possibility that I was having an affair, she had been forced to justify it. She deserved everything that was happening because she was a bad wife. Jean was using my affair with Kay to punish herself. If the affair was consummated, Jean might forgive me, but she would never forgive herself and that would forever poison the basis for our marriage.

Kay and I eased up on Jean while we searched for an appropriate way to end our plot. I stopped the late nights and we discontinued the physical signs of the affair. We did continue our lunches and our evening phone conversations, but I let Jean find another email where I told Kay I felt uncomfortable about where our friendship was going. I wanted Jean to regain some of her confidence in me.

At work, we were entering trade convention season. Every year, our office maintained a presence at three or four of the major trade conventions held round the country. It was a great opportunity to market our products and schmooze the executives that would be deciding whether to spend their hard-earned cash with us or with our competitors.

I was not a normal member of the convention delegations. I didn't think it was fair to Jean to leave her at home taking care of the kids while I spent 3-4 weeks a year gallivanting around the country. When I was forced to attend one to touch base with a specific client, I always tried to arrange things so that Jean and the kids could attend for at least part of the week.

The first convention that year was held in Atlanta starting on Monday and running the full week. Atlanta was a new hotspot for our services and we had a full line up of prospective clients that we wanted to impress. So, we were sending a larger than usual contingent from the office to show the flag. My boss approached both Kay and I to see if we were available to go.

Kay and I talked it over and decided to use this convention as the forum to resolve the entire mess. It provided a nice possibility of getting our final revenge on Bert. I could also use it as cover to arrange some time off with Jean to finally have it out with her.

I called my parents that afternoon to see if they could watch the kids while we were gone. Getting their agreement, I hit the phones to make my arrangements. I wasn't going to give Jean any alternatives. I called the hospital and talked to her boss. I told her that I was planning a special trip for Jean and I and needed to make sure that she could get the time off.

That night, I told Jean about the convention and asked her to get the week off so we could spend some time together. Almost automatically, she tried to beg off, but I held firm. I told her that I had spoken to her boss and gotten my parents to watch the kids. The kicker was my comment to her that I felt we needed some time off by ourselves to reconnect.

I put my heart into this plea. I wanted Jean to realize that I was not proposing just a vacation. It might make her anxious, but I did want her to be ready to discuss where our marriage was headed. With a lot of trepidation, she agreed to put in for the week. I arranged for a flight to leave Saturday morning.

As for Bert, Kay told him that the she was going to be away for about two weeks. She was going to leave the Friday before the convention started and remain in Atlanta visiting clients until the following weekend. A few snippets of overheard conversation later and Bert was convinced that she and I had made plans to go to Miami for a mini vacation together after the convention.

Bert was sure that this was his best chance to catch us. We let him hear enough to convince him of our plans, including Kay's whining about Jean's coming to Atlanta. Kay even managed to let him find the hotel information in Miami where we were supposedly staying before the reservation mysteriously disappeared from her handbag.

Before long, he fell for the bait. He made arrangements to go to Miami and booked himself into a room at the same high-class resort. Better yet, since Kay was away, the rat decided to play. Mindy, his co-worker's wife had always been the most eager participant in his little adventures and games. Bert easily convinced her to feed her husband a line so she could spend the weekend with him.

Friday, Kay took the afternoon off to get the divorce process finalized. She had her attorney file the paperwork and went to the bank to get Bert's name taken off all of her individual accounts as well as to withdraw her share of the joint assets. Kay wasn't going to the convention. She was taking the next week off to rid Bert from her life finally and completely.

I spent a quiet Friday evening at home with Jean and the kids. Everything was set. I had sent an anonymous email to Mindy's husband tipping him off about the planned tryst. I sent him enough details to convince him that I knew what I was talking about and strongly suggested that he could "catch them in the act" if he went over to Kay's house around 9:00. Kay was going to make her appearance as soon as the fireworks started.

From what Kay later told me, Bert had a very bad night. He had Mindy bent over the back of the sofa when her husband stormed in. The guy got in quite a few good shots at Bert before he could cover up. The screaming and yelling were enough to get one of the neighbors to call 911.

I'm sure it was just a coincidence that a local reporter happened to be in the neighborhood. But, the story on the front page of the local section sure didn't do much for Bert's reputation. Especially since Kay provided an edited copy of the CD to the local paper. The press had a field day with the story of the renegade lothario convincing his adulterous lovers to humiliate their husbands.

Then, just as Bert didn't think things could get worse, up walked Kay along with a process server. She just took one look at Mindy in disgust and told him that he had five minutes to get out of her house. He tried to talk his way out of it a bit, but Kay didn't want to hear him. When he didn't stop, the police finally came over and asked him to stop bothering her. She stood there smugly as he stormed away clutching the divorce papers. He wasn't even out of sight before Kay had a locksmith working on changing the locks.

Bert lost a lot that night. Not only did he lose his marriage, he also lost his job, his reputation, his membership in the country club and his various lovers. I made sure that the edited copy of the CD was sent to the husbands of each of his lovers. Bert was fired by phone Saturday morning. The divorces and the lawsuits followed swiftly. By the end of the week, he was an outcast.

It was about 10:30 that evening that Kay stopped by the house to tell me what had happened. The look on Jean's face when she saw who was at the door was comical; a mixture of fear, anger and trepidation chased across her face as she struggled to control her emotions.

It didn't take Jean long to corner me in the kitchen as I went to make some drinks. "What's she doing here?" She hissed.

I stared at her for a moment before going back to mixing the drinks. "I suspect that she is here to tell me what happened at her house tonight." I replied calmly. "Bert thought she was out of town and was going to meet one of his lovers. Kay was going to confront him and serve him with divorce papers."

Jean gasped and turned pale at my casual comment. For the moment, I ignored her reaction and took the drinks out to the living room. Jean followed me slowly walking with her head down like she was on the way to the gallows.

I sat on the couch opposite Kay and Jean reluctantly sat beside me. She refused to look into my eyes as Kay clued us in on the events of the evening. Jean did squirm uncomfortably a few times as Kay repeated some of the juicer things she had found on the CD. The biggest affect, however, was caused by the discussion of Mandy's husband's reaction.

"So that's it then?" I queried as Kay finished.

"Yep." She responded. "The papers have been served and the locks have been changed. I'm finished with that asshole for good. When I discovered how long he was cheating on me, that was it. I couldn't take his lying to me or his disrespect anymore."

Jean groaned and buried her head in her hands. I turned to her and asked her solicitously. "What's the matter Jean? Surely you don't think he deserves another chance, do you?"

At my words, Jean burst into tears and fled the room. I looked in alarm at Kay and rose to follow her. I found her sobbing in the bedroom.

"Jean." I began hesitantly, "Please come out to the living room."

Jean looked up from the bed where she was lying and looked at me intently. With an obvious effort she stifled her sobs. "You know, don't you?" She accused.

There was no point in denying in. I simply nodded my head.

"How long have you known?" She asked in a monotone.

"That's not impor. . . " I began.

"How long?" She interrupted fiercely.

I sighed and told her. "Months. I figured it out when you got scared and stopped seeing him the first time."

Jean's head snapped up in surprise at my statement and she opened her mouth to defend herself, but one look at the pain on my face and she bowed her head in despair. "You must hate me," she moaned.

"No." I responded. "I don't hate you. Angry, disappointed, hurt, yeah. But not hate." I reached out my hand to her and pleaded with her. "Now will you please come back out to the living room so we can talk about what we do now?"

Jean hesitated. "Why?" She asked suspiciously. "Why can't we talk about it here? Honey, go get rid ofher and come back so I can show you how sorry I am. Why doesshe have to be involved?"

I sighed to myself. When Kay and I had discussed the idea of confronting Jean together, I had known that Jean would object to Kay's presence. But, I had allowed myself to be convinced that having Kay present as an affected third party would be helpful. If nothing else, Kay would help me keep the meeting focused on resolution.

"No. Jean, we'll have plenty of time next week for the two of us to talk. But tonight, it's going to be the three of us. Whether you like it or not, Kay deserves to be part of this. She was hurt by your actions too."

But Hal. . . " Jean whined.

"Enough." I snapped. Softening my tone I went on persuasively. "Jean, I promise, we're not trying to gang up on you, honest. But, there are some things. . . , She's . . . This isn't about your being so. . . Oh, hell, trust me, please. She needs to be here at least this one time, OK?"

Jean reluctantly nodded and took my proffered hand as I led her back out to the living room. Her face was full of apprehension as she sat on the couch next to me. Kay had her poker face on and looked at Jean impassively as I settled on the couch as well. Unfortunately, my mind went blank. All of my prepared speeches suddenly disappeared.

"God, how can I begin this?" I muttered to myself. "All right, let's start out with some ground rules. Jean, I'm not interested in hearing a bunch of apologies or excuses. That's not going to get us anywhere. Hell, for now, I really don't even want to talk about why you had an affair. What I want to do is figure out where we go from here; how to put our marriage back together.

"You've already figured out that I knew about your affair with Bert. Just so you know, I've seen all the emails and pictures. So, I think I have a pretty good idea of what happened. So, I'm not going to ask you for a confession. I just want to talk about what it means for our marriage and us."

I snorted. "While I'm at it, I'm sure that you're wondering what the hell has been going between Kay and I as well." Jean started to tear up and I held up my hand and continued gently. "That's one of the reasons I wanted Kay to be here. I'm sure you have questions. You deserve answers too.

"So, what I propose is that we talk about what happened and how we can get past it. You answer my questions and I'll answer yours. No tears, no yelling, no justifications, no bullshit."

I paused and looked from Jean to Kay. Both of them gave me nods to continue. I swallowed heavily and continued. "Let me start by telling you how this has affected me. I told you a few minutes ago that I've known about your affair for months. Just like you thought, I got suspicious of you that night you went down on me after sex.

"I didn't want to believe anything was wrong, but your behavior that night was so strange that I spent most of the night going over how you had been acting. It took a while, but I started to come up with a bunch of small things I couldn't explain. Ways that you had been changing. There were enough things that I felt that I had to investigate you."

I stopped for a moment and stared over at her with an anguished expression. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to decide to check up on you? How guilty I felt for invading your privacy? How it hurt not to know whether I could trust you? I kept on telling myself that it was nothing, I was being a fool, but I knew that I could never trust you until I knew for certain."

My anger exploded for a moment. "When I found out you were having an affair, that I was right to mistrust you, God, it still makes me angry to think about it! I don't know if you remember how angry I was with you that week."

Jean's eyes widened as she thought back to that week. Her hands flew up to her face as she started to remember my behavior.

I held out my hand with my forefinger and thumb almost touching. "I came this close to walking out on you that night. I've never hit a woman in my life, but that night I was ready to kill you. It took every ounce of control that I had to lie there in that bed with you and not do something I would regret for the rest of my life."

Jean looked at me sadly. "Why didn't you say something? I knew something was wrong. I wouldn't have tried to hide it. I would have done anything to make it up to you."

I took a couple of deep breaths to calm down. "The reason I didn't say anything Jean is because I knew what would happen. I was so hurt and angry that your tears would have just made it worse. If I had confronted you then, I don't think our marriage would have survived.

"Jean, at that point in time, I didn't trust you at all. I didn't know whether you really loved me or were playing me for a fool." Jean started to protest, but I forestalled her. "Look, whether I was right or not is irrelevant. That was how I felt. I spent half that night trying to figure out why you would have an affair. I kept on wondering what I had done wrong. I had no clue. I knew how I felt about you and, up to that point; I had no reason to believe you would feel otherwise."