Love & Disrespect: Bridal Advice

"Are you threatening me with divorce?" she said her now eyes blazing.

"Betty this is a 'no fault' state. With no children in the home and the fact we make close to the same thing, salary-wise, we're probably looking at a fairly equal split if we divorced. We'll probably end up selling the house and splitting the proceeds, since neither one of us will be able to buy the other one out.

"I do have to wonder, though. When my half of the spending cash isn't being spent on things my wife thinks are important, what will I spend it on? I'll make sure it goes only towards things I want, of course. Things like those regular trips for all of you to the spa or your little weekend out-of-town shopping sprees are gone, naturally. So is that project of putting in a swimming pool in the backyard next summer, since I don't swim.

"Not another dime of mine is going to go towards your clothes, shoes and accessories. All the make-up and beauty products are gone, as well, since I'd have to ask myself the simple question. Who are so trying to make yourself beautiful for, since it isn't me?

"With all of those financial cuts, I'll bet I'll have enough to pay Theresa's rent. Hell, I wonder what she'd be willing to do for that. If she's as big a whore as you ladies say she is, I doubt she would mind giving a little loving to some old, pot-bellied, bald guy. Damn, with that extra money I could actually become her sugar daddy!"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Betty snapped, her face beginning to pale.

"What I'm talking about is no longer funding your little lifestyle. I'm talking about looking out for myself and my needs, since nobody else will. I'm talking about your control over our joint finances is over. I'll be deciding what things, besides bills, my money will be going to. I can guarantee you it sure as hell won't be going to things only you enjoy!

"You know, if even if Theresa turns me down, maybe I'll be able to find someone else. Of course, she probably wouldn't turn down Richard or Thomas! I wonder what options they'll be interested in pursuing after they find out they're being trained like a circus animal for the amusement of their wives?"

"Terry, it's not like that!" my wife said, with true concern on her face for the first time that day.

"Like hell it isn't!" I sneered at her.

Whatever love I had for her was now seriously tainted. I was sure we'd never go back to what we were before, and was now beginning to doubt if there'd be an 'us' in the near future.

"Now, I need to get out of here. I've got some serious planning to do!"

"Are you leaving?" Betty asked, surprised. "Aren't you even going to give me a ride home?"

"What for?" I snorted, trying to cover my pain, and walked out of the room leaving four very stunned women.

****

Things changed after the bridal shower, but I'm not sure I can say for the better or worse, though. Betty tied a variety of tactics to smooth things over with me that first week. At first, she tried to dismiss everything as the wine talking. Then, it was back to, 'it was only girl talk.' When those failed, she got frustrated and took a more direct approach.

"For god's sake, Terry, so you got your feelings hurt," she chastised me one night. "It's time to pull up your big boy pants and get over it!"

Up until then, I'd reverted back to my reserved self. My outburst at the bridal shower had rattled me. Even though I was cold to Betty, I hadn't been vicious to her. However, her comment set me off again.

"Fuck you!" I snarled at her. "No, wait, that would imply I'd even touch you... so fuck off!"

Her mouth hung open as I stormed out of the room. Who knew this mouse could roar... twice.

I believe she got the message that her domineering and dictating attitude wasn't appreciated the next day. When she found the melted remains of Leon the Lion on the kitchen table, there was little doubt how I felt. I'm pretty sure taking a blowtorch to my mechanical competition made a statement.

I ended up moving into the guest bedroom, permanently. Since nothing had been happening in our bed for the last couple of years, I hardly noticed the difference. I also joined a gym and took off about ten pounds. It didn't show so much, but I felt better about myself.

I also made good on my threat of dividing up the finances in a similar manner to what we could probably expect if we divorced. After splitting the bills and creating separate accounts, I found I had a lot more cash flow when it wasn't all going to things Betty wanted. I used it that first month to make good on another threat. She was young enough to be my daughter but she sure didn't treat me like her daddy. After a couple hours with her I could barely walk, so I floated all the way home that night.

Betty was livid.

"You cheating sonofabitch!" she screamed. "If you think I'll sit back and let you sleep around on me..."

"You'll what?" I yelled back at her. "You'll cut me off? Too damn late for that! So, what else could you do? Withhold your love and affection? Damn, too late for that, as well!"

"I'll... I'll divorce you!"

"Really? Promise? Well, bring it on! If you don't already have divorce papers, I do, and mine are already signed and notarized!"

She ran out of the room crying. I was disturbed, but not surprised; it didn't affect me like it would've only a few months earlier. What concerned me the most was the abused dog analogy I'd used at the bridal shower. An abused dog that runs away will tend to be scared of everything, even after he gets away from his abuser. The dog that fights back can turn mean and will begin to attack anyone and everyone, even those who are trying to help. I needed to try and remain balanced, regardless of the anger brewing inside me.

We did go to Toni's wedding later that month, and we weren't too much of a distraction. I'm sure people knew things weren't the same between Betty and me, but most weren't aware of the changes yet. Toni had her special day and I received a hug and a whispered "thank you" when we went through the reception line.

Anita avoided me all during the wedding and reception. Apparently, I was mistreating her sister. Naturally, I haven't been invited back in her house again. No great loss.

Maria and Richard had a rough go there for about a month. Did I tell him? No. I'm proud to say Maria had a tearful, heart-to-heart with her husband. The resulting arguments and discussions will serve their marriage well as it goes on. So, there was some good that came out of that bridal shower after all; two young marriages got stronger.

After the wedding, Betty tried a different tactic... being contrite. My response was probably just as awkward as her attempt.

"Terry? Can we please talk?"

"Depends on if you're going to try and berate me or attack whatever self-esteem I have left."

"No," she said softly, obviously trying to control whatever emotions she was feeling. "I only wanted to talk. Things have gotten way out of hand and I'm afraid our marriage will be irreparably damaged if we can't settle some things."

"No Betty," I said gently, "that marriage is dead. The marriage we've had for the past twenty years where I try my damnedest to make you happy and you play me for a fool, is gone. You hurt me. You took the most precious gift I could give you, my love, and you turned it on me. You used it to manipulate and humiliate me.

"I'd like to blame you for all of it, but I can't. I'm just as much to blame, since I allowed you to do that. If I'd stood up and fought you on things early in our marriage, maybe we could've had the type of marriage we both would've been happy with. However, given your views that it's a completion between us and there can is only one winner... I doubt we ever had a chance. Hopefully, Maria and Richard will find a way to work through everything and have a good marriage."

"So what about us?" she said, watching me closely. "What kind of marriage can we have then?"

I sat quietly. I'd thought about this, ad nauseam. Could I possibly go back to the way the marriage was before I heard all those things? No. Would I throw away twenty years of blood, sweat and tears in a divorce? I didn't know. For Betty's part, what could she possibly do or say that would begin building any of my trust back in her? Actually... nothing. Then what type of marriage could we possibly have without trust at the center? I didn't have a clue. As I said... ad nauseam.

"I guess our marriage will be more like roommates, where we're both responsible for our own needs and happiness. It's not the marriage I'd dreamed of, but it'll suffice for the immediate future. I'm not really sure what it looks like years from now. I suppose it'll depend on how you and I deal with the changes."

"Terry, I'm sorry I said those things."

Her voice was choked, full of emotion. I knew she was hurting; after twenty years of being married, some things were still evident. However, I couldn't tell exactly why she was in pain. Was it because she'd hurt me so badly? I thought I saw some actual remorse in her eyes, but it could've been me wanting to see that. It also might've been her realization that her hold over me was failing. I wasn't sure. That's the unfortunate result when trust is betrayed; the person who was betrayed can never again really be sure things are as they appear.

"I'm sorry I hurt you like that," she said with tears in her eyes. "You need to realize I really do love you."

"No, Betty, you need to realize, I really don't believe you. Maybe you are sorry. So am I, but it really doesn't change anything, does it?"

She didn't have an answer, or at least one either of us knew I'd accept, so our conversation didn't end so much with a bang as with a whimper. I wasn't sure if she was truly sorry for the way things had turned out, or if she was only sorry things were changing. Selfishly, I hoped there was some love in her for me, since I wanted her to be hurting as much as I was. Of course, she'd hide it; showing that type of emotion was showing weakness, in her way of thinking.

I'd hoped this horrible incident would remind her that she loved and needed me. I feared our last talk was only another ploy to win me back without making too many changes. Realistically, I knew she probably felt both of those things. What I was praying for was that her love for me was stronger, this time, than her need for control and self-preservation.

My answer came about a week later.

One night, Betty caught me with my guard down. She came into my bedroom in the middle of the night and slid naked into bed with me. I jumped out of bed like someone had put a scorpion next to me.

"What the hell are you doing?" I yelped.

"What the hell do you think?" she snapped back at me obviously wounded by my reaction. "That's what this is all about isn't it? Just as long as Terry gets his regular piece of ass he won't pout, right?"

Self-preservation had won out. All my frustration, all my anger, hurt and pain spewed out.

"How the hell could I have ever loved such a cold hearted bitch as you?" I seethed. "Apparently, I wasn't clear enough at the bridal shower. Betty; you win! I'll never, ever touch your body again. Save your mercy fucks for someone who wants them!"

"Maybe I will! If you're going to go out and look for someone," she spat, "then so can I!"

I burst out laughing, much to her chagrin. It made it even funnier.

"What?" she snapped, and glared. "What's so damn hilarious?"

"Sorry," I apologized out of habit, "the thought of you going out and getting someone new."

"What? You don't think I could?"

"No, I know you could. But Betty... do you really think you can get a guy without putting out? I'm almost positive most guys aren't looking for a fat, frigid, manipulative bitch to spend the rest of their lives with!"

She screamed and ran out of the room bawling. That pretty much ended our conversation. To say the house has been chilly since then would be a gross understatement.

I spoke with Juan a couple of times so he'd understand what the situation was. I know he wasn't happy with it; no child likes to see their parent's marriage fall apart, but he stayed out of it. Smart boy.

Maria tried to intercede on her mother's behalf... once... only once. She didn't like my response and left in tears. I think she got the message to stay out of our marriage and focus on her own.

I also think she was surprised when Theresa walked up to her at the beauty salon and slapped her in front of a bunch of other women. Theresa informed my daughter and all the women there that she wasn't a prostitute. I believe the phrase she used was "I ain't no whore, bitch!" I already knew that, since I'd propositioned her earlier the same day. I had a matching handprint on my cheek, as well.

Even though Theresa turned me down, another woman in the neighborhood didn't. Rose is a late thirty-something, single mother who lived a couple blocks from Theresa. Though not as hot as Theresa, she was still attractive. She's not very well endowed and she has a big ass but she's got the prettiest brown eyes and an even prettier face.

She also has two teenage boys who are on the path to being delinquents and becoming guests of the state, if not dead by their twenties. Their father skipped out on them years ago. Since Rose was killing herself working two jobs, she couldn't spend the time being the kind of mother to them she wanted and needed to be. Between her working all the time and her family, she also never dated. Our arrangement looks like it'll benefit us both for a while.

Too be honest, I can see us turning into a friends with benefits type of relationship very easily. She's very straightforward with her expectations and boundaries. Plus, she's never really liked my wife or her sister much, so there's very little guilt on her part. So far, we've gotten together discreetly for over a month and it's working well for both of us. Who knows, if it develops into something more in the future, I'll end up filing for a divorce.

So, is this the life and marriage I'd always dreamed of? No, but Betty crushed those hopes and dreams and, unfortunately, I let her. Some will call me a wimp for allowing her to do that, while others will say I'm an asshole for propositioning Rose, but I think of myself as a survivor. I'm trying to make the best of a bad situation.

****