Promise

"Well I just hope it does Anne," I replied grimly. "I just have to hope so."

----------------------

Cilla and I carried on with our life trying to pretend that nothing was different. But it was and sometimes the atmosphere was stifling. I didn't treat her any differently and I never checked up on her, determined that it was her decision to start something, though it could well be mine to finish it. At least we weren't sniping at each other, but the lack of discourse between us was almost as bad.

I relaxed just a little in the unsure knowledge that I knew my wife well enough to know that she hadn't started anything. But my hopes were dashed when my so called knowledge proved right!

One evening when I came home from work, though I couldn't put my finger on it, I simply knew that something was different. She wasn't more confident, happier, sadder whatever, but she was different, almost more remote.

I guessed she'd made a date with someone, but of course I couldn't ask her, though as Friday night approached it all became too obvious.

"I thought I'd go out tomorrow night," she informed me on the Thursday, pretending to be cutting up some vegetables while she spoke, so that she wouldn't have to look at me.

"Fine," I replied without looking up either. "Enjoy yourself."

"Aren't you interested in where I'm going Ken?" She demanded.

"Not really," I replied, looking up at her this time. "Unless it's something that I need to know about."

Cilla put the knife down, stood there silently for some moments, then turned and silently left the room.

Shit!

It didn't seem to be going to plan.

-----------------

Friday passed in a cloud, and I argued about nothing with several colleagues at work. Wasn't their fault of course, but then the situation wasn't my fault either.

Except that it was partly of course. Maybe it was all my damn fault.

When I got in that night Cilla was already home and my dinner was all prepared to be popped into the microwave later on. There was even a bottle of decent red wine on the table, already opened and breathing.

The term, 'The condemned man eat a hearty breakfast' came to mind, and though I doubted that I would be able to manage to eat much of the meal she had prepared, I didn't doubt that the wine wouldn't last very long.

"Hi honey," Cilla greeted me as she descended the stairs. "Did you see the wine I left for you? Was it the right one?"

"It'll do," I responded grumpily.

By Golly she looked lovely. Not too sexy or slutty or anything like that. Her dress was short but not too much so. Cilla simply looked lovely, and I had to turn my head away as I found myself choking up.

"I'll be going then Ken," Cilla announced quietly. "I'll be back before midnight."

"You're sure you want to go through with this Cilla," I asked, though it came out as little more than a croak. One last attempt to dissuade her.

"I've got to honey," she whispered back to me. "But don't worry sweetheart I'm not planning to go all the way tonight. Just seeing how comfortable it feels going out with another man first."

"That's supposed to make me feel better is it?" My anger beginning to mount again.

"I guess not honey," Cilla mumbled back, bending down to give me a goodbye kiss. "I have to go now."

"Save the kisses for lover boy," I growled at her, turning my face to avoid her embrace. Cilla snapped her head back up in surprise, stared silently at me for a few moments, turned and made for the door.

"Enjoy yourself," I cried out to her sarcastically.

----------------

I sat there and wondered where I had gone wrong. What else could I have done? This was the twenty first century and the days of a man dragging his woman about by the hair and physically bending her to his will were long passed.

It was her decision, but what I did afterwards would remain mine. I'd forgive her, at least formally though I knew in my heart that I couldn't in reality.

What was it to be? A quick divorce or a slow descent into some kind of married hell?

I didn't know, but I was sure that I would seek out that bastard Dave, and if was indeed him that had accepted her overtures, then somehow or other the bugger would pay. What would I do to her? Lord knows --- Probably nothing. She'd go into shock when she discovered that one day soon, I was no longer there, though deep down I knew that I still loved her so much that it would hurt me just as much it would hurt her.

Then of course there were the children!

Damn it! Damn and blast it!

How could life be so cruel?

The sound of the front door closing bought me out of my misery and I wondered why she had taken so long to leave the house. But the door closing signified that she had indeed gone. Gone off to her meeting with another man.

I felt the black cloak of misery descending again.

Then I heard the lounge door open and I looked round to see Cilla standing there with tears in her eyes.

"You did promise to forgive me didn't you Ken?" She half sobbed.

"That was the promise," I answered carefully, wondering why she hadn't left yet.

"Then can you forgive me for being such a stupid, inconsiderate, bitch of a wife please Ken?"

"I ..... That is I ....." I stumbled over my words. "I guess I could."

"I couldn't do it Ken," the words tumbled out. "I opened the front door and I physically couldn't step over the threshold. It suddenly came to me what I would be doing to our marriage, and what I would be doing to you honey. I don't want to go out with another man Ken and I can't believe how stupid I've been behaving. All I want is for you to love me. You do still love me, don't you Ken?"

"More than ever," I gasped, leaping up and taking her in my arms. "More than ever darling."

"And you forgive me honey?"

"Completely sweetheart. I told you that night before our wedding that I would love and adore you for ever, and I meant it."

"Do you remember what else you promised me that night honey," Cilla whispered huskily into my ear. "That you'd keep me so happy in bed that I'd never be tempted?"

"Rings a bell Cilla."

"Then why don't you take me upstairs right now and keep that promise to me," she went on. "And I'll promise you never, ever, to mention the other promise again."

I grinned at her, took her hand and led her towards the stairs. Cilla and I were about to start the first day of the rest of our lives, and all was well again in the Thompson household.

Thank you God!

Oh! --------- I forgot --------- I wasn't supposed to believe in him was I?

++++++++++++

I do like a happy ending!

Apologies to all those who like to see the woman boiled alive, but this story was simply never going there.

No doubt some of you out there will let me know what you think.