Midas Touch

"Steven, I love that you think that way. I love that sex and love are intertwined for you, but it's not like that for everyone. For some, making love is different to merely copulating with someone you don't necessarily have feelings about for physical pleasure or relief. Can you honestly tell me that some of your hurt doesn't stem from pride and a bruised ego? Can't you see that part of why you're angry is because, to your way of thinking, someone else got to play with your toys?"

"Don't fucking demean me by saying I'm hurt and angry because of stupid pride and ego," Steven roared. "I am not one of your shallow fuck buddies. What I felt for you went so much deeper than mere territorial jealousy. Just because you come with a set of tits and a vagina doesn't mean you have the monopoly on emotion. In fact, based on your actions and this conversation, I'd have to say, you're the one lacking in the emotional department."

Olivia recoiled, a look of horror on her face as she saw how deep Steven's anger ran. Never, not even after Melbourne, had he ever spoken to her with such vitriol. For the first time ever, she felt fear of him. The car suddenly seemed very small. Claustrophobic.

And it wasn't over.

"Well, Olivia, lucky you, because from now on you won't have to worry about hurting my fragile male ego. Now you'll be able to copulate all you want with whoever you want. Any Tom, Dick, or Harry can play with your toys. I no longer care. I want and need a partner who shares my beliefs. You don't and so it's time to go our separate ways."

"But I love you and, despite what you say, I know you love me."

Steven shrugged. "I did once upon a time. There was a time I loved smoking, too. Really enjoyed it, but I gave it away when I realised I was being stupid, that I was risking my health and my future by continuing. Staying with you would be stupid. I'd be risking my mental and emotional health and my chance at a happy future. I'd be stupid to trust you again. Stupid to believe in you and your word again. I'm not stupid. I have been, but not anymore."

"You wouldn't be stupid, Steven. You'd be loving and forgiving. I'll spend the rest of my life making this up to you. Seeing how hurt you are, how far what I did drove you, I'd never risk it again."

Steven sighed. "You don't get it, Olivia. You just don't get it. Let me give you an analogy. If you had to guess what the most fantastic thing we did with the girls during last summer was, what would it be? What did we do that they talked about for months afterward?"

Olivia looked bemused but answered. "We went to that theme park up on the Gold Coast. WhiteWater World."

"That's right, and the girls couldn't get enough. They loved it. Trips to the beach and the river couldn't compare. That's what your affairs are like. Nice, safe old hubby at home pushing around the lawn mower, elbows deep in dishwater, reading books to two six-year olds can't compare to Mr. Three-Piece-Suit, Mr. Highflying-Merchant-Banker. I'm not exciting to you anymore. I'm not illicit. I'm not new and unknown. I'm same-old, same-old. I'm not something you've rewarded yourself with.

"Whether you admit it or not you'll always remember your affairs. They'll always be your delicious little escapes from married life. You'll think of them when you're bored or when I didn't bring my A-game into the bedroom. I can't—correction; I won't—try to compete with a fantasy."

"I wouldn't. I swear, I wouldn't."

Steven shook his head sadly. "You're in denial, Olivia. Can you honestly tell me that you've never thought about your affairs? Maybe when I'm out of town? Or you're out of town?"

Olivia couldn't answer. Steven was right. She had remembered and even masturbated to the memories.

"Exactly," said Steven, nodding, not needing her confirmation to know he was right. "Bad enough that you do it when I'm not around. Can you imagine what it's like, night after night, to lay beside you wondering who you're dreaming about? To make love to you and not know if you're making love with me or placing one of your lover's faces over mine? You can't know how soul destroying that is because you've never experienced it, and with your attitude to sex, probably never will."

"But, Steven-"

Steven gripped the wheel, banging his head lightly against the rim. Olivia looked on in alarm. Had he finally lost it completely?

"But, nothing. Olivia, did you learn nothing from today? Everything that happened was meant to make you feel something beyond a superficial level. Pain, fear of loss, powerlessness, betrayal, abandonment, anger. You felt them. You felt them all. I know you did. I watched you. Why do you think I orchestrated that?"

"I don't know. To punish me?" whispered Olivia.

"No, not to punish. It was because I've felt all those things and more in the last eight months. I never thought I'd ever have to feel them again after Melbourne, not in relation to you. But I did. I have. You did that to me. Remember today. Remember what you felt. Maybe the next time a man loves you, you'll think twice before stabbing him in the back."

"I... oh god, Steven, please don't give up on us. I need you. I love you. I want to grow old with you. It's wasn't lovemaking with Logan. It was recreational sex, no more meaningful than going out and having a game of squash."

"Olivia, you're repeating yourself. It may not have meant anything to you, but it meant something to me. That's what you keep forgetting. Our relationship wasn't just about you. It was about me too. Do you realise you destroyed my love for you, shattered our life together, for a bit of what you call recreational sex? That makes me want to rip your heart out of your chest and stomp on it because that's what your actions did to mine. Want to know a few statistics about sex?"

Steven didn't wait for Olivia to reply. "The average person during an average lifespan will have spent somewhere around six months screwing. Yes, that's all. Six months. Women spend double that time just deciding what to wear! That's what you betrayed me for; something you'll spend less time doing than choosing what fucking shoes to wear with your suit!"

Steven shook his head as if shaking off the rain. He ran a hand through his hair.

"Enough. This is getting me nowhere. You don't understand. Maybe, you never will. Maybe you're incapable of it."

Steven's words repeated on a loop in Olivia's mind. You don't understand. Maybe, you never will. Maybe you're incapable of it. She shuddered as she recalled the roller coaster ride of fear and uncertainty, of isolation and frustration, and the sense of betrayal and loss she'd endured. It had been horrific. The worst thing she'd ever experienced, bar none. And this is what her actions had made Steven feel. Olivia gulped back tears of devastation. She had wounded in the worst possible way the man she loved. She knew deep down she'd believed if her indiscretion was discovered he'd forgive her. After all, he'd forgiven her the last time. What arrogance. Steven was right; she had disrespected him and disregarded his feelings. She'd driven him to extreme actions trying to reach her and make her understand.

Olivia panicked; her crimes against Steven were so huge, but she loved him, she truly did. Steven couldn't give up on her, on their relationship. He and the girls were the most important things in her life. She had to let him know.

"Steven-"

Steven held up his hand. "Enough! I said enough."

Checking the rear-view mirror, Steven started the engine, flicked on the indicator and then pulled into the traffic.

"Do you like making deals, Olivia?" Steven didn't wait for an answer. They both knew the question was rhetorical. "Well, here's the deal. You buy an apartment. I buy one. The girls stay in the house with Mrs. Foster. It's not fair on them to deprive them of the only home they've ever known just because you couldn't resist rewarding yourself with a little recreational sex."

Olivia flinched, hearing Steven use her own words of but moments before. Coming from him they seemed stupid. Ridiculous. Steven carried on, either ignorant or uncaring of her reaction.

"That means you and I will be doing the to-ing and fro-ing. Week on, week off. No child support for either of us. No alimony. We set up an account that we contribute an equal amount to from which all household and Hailey and Hannah related expenses are paid. Regardless, of personal feelings we remain civil. I will not say anything negative about you. You will do me the same courtesy. If we both attend the same event, we will be polite and cordial."

The calm, matter-of-factness of Steven's voice unnerved Olivia. This was not a side of him, she'd ever seen.

"And, Olivia, make no mistake. There will be no negotiation. It's a take it or leave it offer. You give me grief, you fight me on this, and I will forget all my good intentions to save the girls from knowing their mother is a deceitful, law-breaking slut and I will hand deliver the real documents to ASIC. If it was up to me that's exactly what I'd be doing. I'd enjoy nothing more than sitting in the courtroom watching the prosecution screw your and lover-boy's arse to the wall. I'd laugh when they sentenced you. The longer the sentence the more I'd be laughing. You're just lucky you gave me two lovely daughters. For them, I'll show clemency. For them, I'll rein in my desire to bury you."

Olivia looked out of the passenger side window, seeing nothing. She was too late. She'd had her epiphany too late. She recognised defeat. She'd witnessed it often enough on the other side of the negotiating table.

Her marriage was over. She'd lost.

EPILOGUE

OLIVIA SAT IN the front of the church. She looked up and to her side, admiring the beautiful stained-glass windows. Without turning her head in the opposite direction, she knew Steven and his wife, Lauren, were sitting at the opposite end of the pew.

Lauren. God how she loathed that woman. Ten years younger than her and as different as night was to day. Fair to Olivia's dark, small to Olivia's tall. Blue-eyed and angelic versus Olivia's dark sultriness. But her appearance and age wasn't why Olivia detested her.

She despised Lauren because her daughters adored her. Because Steven loved her. Because he looked at Lauren the way he'd once looked at her. Steven now looked at Olivia as if she were invisible and had done so for over twenty years.

Olivia hated that twenty-two years after their separation she still missed Steven. She wished she could hate him for that. But how do you hate the man by which you measure all other men?

She hated Lauren for being everything she was not. For the way her daughters enthused about her. Hugged her at every opportunity. They should be raving about her, their real mother. Instead, they were more formal with her. It wasn't fair. Hadn't she shown them how a woman could have both a family and a career? Hadn't she set them an example of a successful businesswoman? They should look up to her, admire her, respect her. Wasn't she always perfectly groomed? Still as slender as she'd been in her twenties? Hadn't she broken the glass ceiling? And earned a six-figure salary for most of their lives? Didn't she have good taste? Wasn't she cultured?

Why then was it Lauren they revered? Lauren who they went to for advice? Sure, the woman ran a chain of fashion boutiques and, as the girls had been so quick to tell her, had worked her way up from the bottom, but did that qualify her as being the girls' go-to person? Olivia mentally sneered. Lauren had probably slept her way to the top because she sure as hell lacked killer instinct. Olivia knew her thoughts were both untrue and unfair, but she couldn't help herself. In her mind, Lauren had usurped her role both as wife and mother.

Olivia glanced to her right, looking at Mrs. Foster's profile. She was getting on in years, and it gave Olivia a small measure of satisfaction to see age catching up with the old bird. Mrs. Foster, too, silly old woman, adored Lauren. Olivia couldn't understand why the girls had insisted Mrs. Foster be there today. They hadn't needed a nanny in ten years. It was Steven's fault—even after the girls had graduated high school, he'd insisted Mrs. Foster stay on in her little cottage.

Olivia's thoughts drifted as the organ music played in the background. She tried to let the music wash through her and rid her of her foul mood. The reason for her bad temper was the news she'd received the previous afternoon. She couldn't believe head office had chosen to promote the little slut she'd damn-well mentored. She'd taught the bitch everything she knew, and the little upstart had out-manoeuvred her and stolen the promotion Olivia felt belonged to her. This was the third time in the last five years she'd been overlooked. It rankled.

The priest clearing his throat brought Olivia back to the present. She wasn't sure why Hailey wanted to have her firstborn son baptised, seeing as they'd never been churchgoing people. Olivia could only surmise it must have been something Hailey's husband, Jasper, wanted.

Olivia gave half an ear to the ceremony as the priest droned on with the usual mumbo jumbo. Seeing Hailey turn to the gathered family and friends caught Olivia's attention. For the briefest of moments their gazes met before Hailey's moved on, settling on her father and Lauren.

Olivia heard the priest ask for Hailey's parents to stand and come forward. Olivia immediately put her purse on the floor beside her feet and stood. She frowned. Lauren had also risen and was walking toward Hailey and Jasper, her hand firmly in Steven's clasp.

A hand on her forearm made Olivia look down. "Not you, dear. Hailey and Jasper have asked Steven and Lauren to be Cody's godparents," Mrs. Foster whispered gently.

Embarrassed, Olivia almost fell back into her seat. She sat, stunned as Hailey gave a little speech about why she'd asked her father and Lauren to be Cody's godparents.

"Dad, you were as close to perfect as it gets as a father. All Hannah's and my friends envied us for having such a wonderful dad. You always seemed to know when to be tough and when to be soft, when to blast us, and when to be lenient. You always listened and always let us know we were your priority. And then you brought Lauren into our lives and made our little family perfect.

"Lauren, you are everything I hope to be as a woman and a mother. Whenever I'm unsure of what to do, I ask myself, 'What would Lauren do? What would Lauren say?' I know Hannah does the same. And in all these years following that method of problem solving has never steered me wrong. Thank you for being you. Thank you for loving Hannah and I as if we were your own.

"Jasper and I both agree that if anything were to happen to us, we couldn't think of two people we'd want more to raise our son, our precious Cody."

Tears rolled down Olivia's face. Not tears of joy for her daughter or grandson, but tears of sadness and pain, and, yes, anger. How could Hailey give a speech like that, knowing her mother was in the audience? She'd have to know how hurtful and humiliating her words would be to Olivia.

Olivia felt like storming out. She would have had that not meant even more people witnessing her embarrassment.

Even as she seethed in anger and resentment, a little voice tried to be heard. At first faint, but with each passing moment louder and more demanding of her attention.

You reap what you sow.

A kaleidoscope of images from the past cascaded through Olivia's mind. Each showed missed opportunities, missed birthdays, missed events, missed breakfasts, and missed bedtimes. Times she could have been there for her daughters but had opted instead to prioritise her work.

At first it had just been simpler to allocate more of their care to Mrs. Foster in order to escape their sad accusing eyes and avoid their endless, awkward questions about why she and their daddy took turns to live with them. Guilt made it easier to stay away from home. Throwing herself even more into her career offered a refuge from her shame and sense of responsibility for what had happened. The more hours she worked the more relieved she felt. Yes, much easier to kiss a sleeping child than a hurt, wakeful one.

Later, with the track well worn, it was just accepted by everyone and before she knew it they were finishing high school and off to university. By then, they truly hadn't needed her.

Awareness hit and hit hard, knocking the wind out of her. For nearly her whole adult life she'd made the wrong choices. She'd chosen avoidance over acceptance and making amends to her daughters. She'd chosen material success over love. She'd chosen money and prestige, status and career, over family. A career that had been dying a slow and painful death for five years.

Olivia slumped against the hard, wooden back of the pew. She was alone. They had each other. Hailey had made it clear with her speech that in her eyes Olivia wasn't her mother, not in the real sense of the word. She was just the egg donor.

Olivia couldn't avoid the truth any longer; she'd failed in the most important role of her life.

Steven, Lauren, the girls and their spouses had a close-knit circle of love and support. She had no one. She would never be part of their inner circle. She would never know love the way they knew it.

Defeat and loss, Olivia discovered, were worse than death.

Death gave you a reprieve from your choices. Defeat and loss had to be lived with.

END OF SUSPENSION OF DISBELIEF