Paul and Paula - Her Story 03

So what was I to do?

As the crucial people in my life had advised, I did a lot of thinking. Then I thought of it again and again. And each time, I came to the same conclusions about Paul, our marriage, and our family. I still wanted them, but my life was lacking, and that life was mine, and it was slipping through my fingers with each passing day.

***

Confrontation with the wrong man

While all the personal issues in my marriage continued, my real estate career began to blossom. Each day, I looked forward to going in the office showing homes and making deals that led to profitable sales. When I was at work, I was not mom or wife or anything but Paula Donnelly. I was judged by my work ethic, a successful sales record, and ability to learn and excel. I have to admit. It was good for the ego as well as our bank account.

It also gave me a sense of accomplishment. Almost as much as watching our children grow into decent human beings and good students. So each day, I threw myself into work, just as I spent time with the kids when home. Paul was there, and I spent some time with him, but I still felt him to be distant and remote.

Having given Paul plenty of opportunities to be the man I thought he could be, I was coming to terms that maybe he never was, to begin with. Instead of advancing his career and following his dream, he had abandoned it for a mundane job. I would have accepted it if he wanted public relations as a career from the start -- had he been enthusiastic about the change. But it was almost as if he ran away from his dream.

I will never forget the day he told me he had a new job. It wasn't the job or what it entailed, but how he said it to me. Paul had blurted it out, looking away as if he felt too guilty to look me in the eye. It had been a similar look like one of the times he saw me touched by a man and did nothing. No question about it. It had been the same. When I tried to talk to him about it, he blew me off with some tripe about being tired of journalism and wanting something more secure.

Despite not liking Gil much, I had sought him out as I knew Paul talked to him about things he never did with me.

"Gil," I said after I invited myself over to his backyard veranda. "Can we talk?"

"I'm surprised you would want to after you threw me out of the house."

"I didn't throw you out," I reminded him. "I went to bed and told Paul to see you out the door."

"Whatever," he replied flippantly.

He had not offered me a drink or a chair to sit on, but I wasn't there to kiss his ass or socialize. That was not why I was there, so I got to the point.

"Has Paul told you why he quit his job at the paper?"

Gil snorted.

"You should ask him," he replied defiantly - his expression one of knowing but reveling in the knowledge that I did not have.

"I did," I replied.

"Hm. I guess Paul must have his reasons," he said in the same snide manner.

"What reasons? Did something happen at his job?" I asked inwardly, anxious but keeping my cool in front of Gil.

"As I said," he replied with a smirk. "Ask your husband."

"You are such an asshole, Gil," I replied, frustrated. "Why won't you tell me."

He laughed then with derision. At that moment, I realized how spiteful and vindictive Gil had become. Or maybe he had been all along, and it took his divorce to bring it out.

"Why do you care Paula? It's his decision in the end."

"I'm his wife, Gil. We should make major decisions together. Not live separate lives."

How naïve I was back then - thinking that a couple should communicate better and share their feelings and concerns.

"Oh, so Paul should run everything past you? Get your approval?" he shook his head. "News flash to you, Paula. Not every man asks permission or shares everything."

No wonder his marriage to Lynn had gone to shit, I thought.

"He gave up his dream, Gil!" I said, raising my voice slightly to get his attention. "Ever since I met him, all Paul wanted and talked about was being an investigative reporter. And just as he was getting recognition for his work he quits? Who does that, Gil? You sure didn't. You fought for your dream until you got your patent."

He smirked and toasted me with his glass smugly.

"You focused so much on your quest that it cost you your wife," I continued.

"Bulshit, Lyn was a slut...." he snapped, spilling some of his whiskey.

"Keep telling yourself that, Gil," I replied. "But you lost yourself in your work and cut your wife out. She asked you for children, but you denied her that. Something that would have bound you two together. I guess you thought the kids would get in the way of the focus on your dream?"

"So fucking some other guy was the answer, Paula? Was that her solution? Being a cheating whore?"

It was my turn to scoff at him and laugh.

"Oh, you wish she had just found a boy toy to occupy her time. Until you realized you still had a wife, that is. But she was stupid and didn't listen to me."

"You knew?" he asked with anger.

"Settle down, Gil," I said, not letting him intimidate me. "I found out about the guy she was screwing after the fact. I told her that nothing good would come from it as it was nothing but a fling. But Lynn was one of those women who can't accept the reality that they were just a cheater looking for thrills."

Gill was still upset, but I had his attention.

"No. Not goody types like Lynn. Sex for just sex is what sluts and whores do. Your wife could not possibly be one of those," I said, mocking his ex-wife. "No. Lynn had to convince herself that her leg spreading was noble and out of love. What a load of horseshit."

That got his attention.

"I told her that, Gil. I told her that she was acting stupid. That so far, all she had done was have an affair with a younger guy. That she was confusing a good fuck with love. To stop and focus on your marriage. To try again with you and to get you to notice her again. But noooo! Not Lynn.

"She had to be in love and run off with a kid that hadn't even finished college yet. The moron got herself pregnant after that. I'm not sure of this, but I bet you she did it to keep the guy. Either way, it didn't work, and he tossed her out."

"Serve her right," Gil spat and took a swig of his drink.

"You had your hand in it," I replied. "You drove your ex into his hands, and you know it. If you can stop blaming others for your doing, that is."

Gill bristled again.

"Her boyfriend was a stupid kid with a hard dick," I went on. "It was Lynn that jumped on it by her choice. But I'll give you this. You may have driven her to it, but at least you did so, chasing your dream. Paul, on the other hand, gave up on his."

"The hell with Lynn. I don't need a slut like her."

"She wasn't a slut before you pushed her away, tough guy. And then she was stupid. But what were you when you took her back? For a short time, I thought you were a better man. That you took her back for the sake of the little boy.

"Instead, you wanted to fuck what you think was her defiled cunt. As if pumping a few loads of your cum in her would make her yours again? But you couldn't get the thought of her fucking a man she thought was better out of your head, could you?"

"Fuck you, Paula," Gil shouted out.

I almost snapped back, saying 'in your dreams, fuckhead.' but the fight was out of him. I could tell. There was no point in rubbing it in.

"I actually felt sorry for you when it all happened," I said in a lower tone. "And after as well, Gil. When you were going through hell drinking and being angry. Sure, Lynn took a bad situation and made it worse for everyone. Especially the poor little boy. But then you got mad that the kid called you dad and had to toss them both on the street. What a shitty thing to do."

"He ain't my kid," he snapped back. "Fuck them both."

I took a deep breath and stared back at him with contempt. Gil was beyond pity.

"What happened to you, Gil? When did you lose your soul and turn into such an angry man?"

He just stared back at me defiantly.

"You know what I think, Gil?" I continued, no longer caring what his answer was. "I think you know you fucked up and are too self-centered to admit it to yourself. And it's eating you up inside."

His face went red, but he just gripped his glass tighter.

"But thanks, Gil."

"For what?"

"For being Paul's friend. At least he has you to share his life and secrets with. Maybe the two of you should move in and blow each other."

"Get out!" he snapped. GET OUT!"

For a second, I thought he would stand and be violent. Instead, he mouthed the word fuck and took another sip before reaching for the bottle then thinking better of it.

"Still here, Paula?"

There was no need for more snide, cutting remarks, or theatrics. I had said my piece to what was now nothing more than a neighbor and my husband's friend.

***

That night, I approached Paul again after making him his favorite dinner dish and waiting for the kids to sleep. I had planned on talking to him in the living room, but I decided to go all out and took him upstairs for an evening of intimacy.

I got on my knees and sucked him slowly and gently as he liked. Yes, I swallowed when he came before he reciprocated by licking my clit and fingering me until I came. Then I let him inside me as he was hard again. To make love to me slow as we kissed and held each other with me on my back and him above me.

Once more, I looked up to see the man I had married above me. He still looked almost the same after the ten years that had passed. A bit older, but still handsome and still my Paul. Right then, I stopped caring if I came. I just wanted him to talk to me and share his woes, fears, and life's dreams. If he still had any, that is.

Why did I do this? Why did I go back to him and try once more? Why did I not just give up? It's hard to explain to people. It is often hard for me to comprehend Paul's hold over me. He is not the kind of man I wanted or thought he would become. But I still loved him. We still had a family and years together. If we could manage to fix things, that is.

After he came, we lay holding each other, and I figured it was this time or never.

"Paul," I said, twirling his chest hair with my index figure then kissing his neck. "Do you think you can tell me why you quit the newspaper job?"

With my ear on his chest, I could have sworn I felt his heartbeat quicken as his body stiffened. Then he moved away.

"I told you no, Paula," he said after a few seconds. "Why can't you leave it alone?"

"Paul, I apologize for everything wrong I have done. I beg forgiveness and hope you can see it in your heart to trust me again. I swear I let those men touch me to just get a reaction out of you. I promise never to do it again. Just give me a chance. I'll go to counseling if you want. Please talk to me...."

"I don't want to talk about anything," he said. "I just want us to live our lives without questions, overthinking, and drama. I just don't want confrontations and conflict. Just stop."

As we lay there with him facing away, I felt tears running down my face, and I reached out to touch him. But I pulled it back, realizing that I had failed. I had married a coward.

******

End of Part 03