Reconcilation

"I can do that, at least for a time, as long as Ann doesn't start doing something crazy."

"Okay, now Tom I would like you to tell me what led you to believe that Ann was having an affair."

Tom explained how Ann had been cold and distant since her miscarriage, and how she had refused to go to any kind of counseling. He then talked about the charity ball, and how he had tried to get her to go with him, and when she refused, he had gone on an out of town business trip so his employee wouldn't have to work over the weekend. How he had seen pictures of her in the paper, dancing with a man he later found out was Russell Anderson. Then he went into the story of how he had gone by her office to ask her to go to lunch with him, and saw her getting into a car with Russell. When he followed them, he saw them hugging and kissing in the car, and when he got caught by surprise with Russell's lane change, he could see that Russell had his hand up under Ann's skirt. Then finally when he followed them into the Hyatt, and found Russell checking in for a room for Mr. and Mrs. Anderson. Last but not least he related how he saw Ann kiss Russell in the restaurant, then when he walked up to them, finding her without a bra.

As Tom related this, he could feel the anger building up all over again, and by the time he ground out the last few words, both of his hands were clenched in tight fists.

As Ann listened to all this, tears ran down her checks, and she sobbed several times.

"Ann, is what Tom just related correct as far as you know?"

"No! Well, yes, but it wasn't what he thinks it was. I have never had intercourse with Russell, or with anyone else except Tom. Never! I have never slept with anyone but Tom since we got married."

Joyce shuffled a few papers for a minute, and examined her calendar.

"I see. Here is what we are going to do. I will see you both on Thursday evenings at 6:00pm, if that works for both of you. Tom, I would like to see you alone on Monday evenings at 6:00pm, and Ann I would like to see you on Tuesday evenings at 6:00pm. Does that work for both of you?"

There was general agreement, and as they left, Ann looked at Tom and said: "I'm so sorry Tom, please, let me talk to you for a few minutes."

"Ann, I am still so angry with you, that I might wind up doing something we would both regret. We'll do all our talking with Dr. Ayers."

With that Tom flung open the door, and walked out without a backward glance, leaving the door open behind him.

Six weeks later, Dr. Ayers was beginning to despair of ever putting Ann and Tom's marriage back together. Ann continued to insist that it wasn't what it seemed, and Tom seemed to be getting angrier every week, primarily because Ann simply couldn't or wouldn't talk about whatever it was that had actually happened.

She felt that Tom's anger was also related to his almost total lack of trust in Ann, as well as his need to know what actually had happened. She didn't think that Tom really wanted to know, but that in some perverse way he needed to know.

Ann had started seeing a psychiatrist associated with Joyce's practice, and he had her on anti-depressants, which were helping her obvious depression, but with the marriage falling apart, the medications were just keeping Ann together, and not really addressing the real issues.

Finally, on Tuesday night, at the end of the session, she decided that she just had to see if she could move Ann off her steadfast denial. It wasn't generally a good idea to do that, but it seemed that that was the only way to move things forward.

"Ann, before you go, there is one more thing we need to talk about. I am reasonably sure that if you don't tell Tom everything that has happened, and as best you can why you did whatever it was that you did, your marriage is going to be over. I don't think that Tom is going to continue to come to counseling sessions otherwise. Now it may be that if you do tell Tom, your marriage will be over anyway. But right now that is the only way I can see to start repairing the damage that has been done. You don't need to tell me anything tonight, but I want you to think about this, and then on Thursday we will see how things go."

Thursday night Tom and Ann had to wait for a few minutes before Dr. Ayers could see them. Ann tried to make a little small talk, and Tom could tell that she was quite nervous. Nevertheless, he didn't respond to her gentle inquiries.

As soon as they had seated themselves, Ann spoke up. "I need to tell Tom something tonight, and I need to do it right away before I lose my courage."

Ann was twisting a handkerchief in her fingers nervously.

"Go ahead."

"Tom, you have been really pushing to know exactly what I did with Russ. Are you sure you really want to know?"

"I don't want to know at all. It's just that something inside me is making it so that I have to know."

Tom felt the ice forming in his stomach, and radiating out into his torso.

"Okay. This is going to be pretty long, and I have to tell it my way, so please don't interrupt me, or ask me any questions. After I finish, you can ask me anything you want, but please wait until I am done. A lot of this may not make a whole bunch of sense in the light of day, but it is how I felt."

"I also want you to know that I don't even know how to tell you how sorry I am that any of this happened, and if you will let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. I love you more than anything in this world."

Tom just nodded.

"When I had my miscarriage, you know I was depressed, but there was one additional factor that I didn't tell you about. There are some things wrong with my uterus, including the fact that I have a tipped uterus. When the doctor examined me the day after the miscarriage, he told me that he was absolutely astounded that I had even been able to get pregnant to start with. He also told me that there was no way I was ever going to be able to carry a baby to term. He very strongly recommended tying my tubes to preclude the one percent chance of my getting pregnant again, so I wouldn't have to take birth control pills for the rest of my so-called fertile life. He gave me a prescription for birth control pills, but I didn't fill it."

"I couldn't tell you this. I knew how much you have wanted children, and I was afraid that if I told you I couldn't have children you would leave me."

"After I came home, the depression got slowly worse. I know that depression is normal after a miscarriage, but I felt like I was just a half woman. I couldn't be what you wanted, and I couldn't give you children. Within a couple of weeks I was so depressed I had to force myself to just get out of bed. I hid it from you as best I could, because I couldn't tell you why."

"I couldn't take birth control pills, or other contraceptives, because you would want to know why. So ever time we made love, I was constantly thinking that this might be the time that I get pregnant again, and I'll have another miscarriage."

"This made me even more depressed, and even though I knew I was pushing you away, I couldn't think of any way out. The longer it went on the worse it got. Then you started asking me to go see a counselor about my depression. I felt that you thought I was crazy, so I was even less of a woman, just some poor crazy woman who couldn't have children, and couldn't stop pushing her husband away, even when he was trying to help."

"Russ really was a client for awhile. We did one project for him that ended about a month before my miscarriage. About a week after I had gone back to work after the miscarriage, I was leaving for lunch when everything simply crashed down on me. I was standing in an alcove crying my eyes out, when Russ came by, saw me, and asked what was wrong. I was crying so hard I couldn't even say anything. Russ got me calmed down a bit, and took me to lunch in the little café just down the street from the office. I don't know why, maybe it was because he was a good listener, and I desperately needed someone to talk to, but I told him everything that had happened."

"Russ made all the appropriate noises, and after I had finished purging myself of what had happened, he told me that he understood, and was always available, just as a friend to be a sounding board."

"After that, we would go to lunch every once in awhile, probably once a week and just talk, that's all, just talk."

"When the charity ball came up, I was hurt and a bit angry with you because you didn't take me. I know I told you I wouldn't go, but I guess I felt that you should have done something different, maybe just stayed home with me instead of taking off on that trip. Anyway, I really needed someone to be with me, and when Pat called, and insisted that I go with them, I finally broke down and agreed. I drove over to meet them at their house, and we all went together in Bob's car."

"We hadn't been at the ball very long before Russ showed up. It wasn't planned, and in fact I didn't even know he was going. He asked me to dance, and I agreed, and when we came back to the table, I invited him to sit with us. Pat wasn't very happy about that, but she was pleasant enough to him. As the night went on, I had far too much to drink, and by about 10:30 I was completely smashed, and dancing just about every dance with Russ. I guess I needed to be held, or comforted or something. I don't know, but that is the way it happened."

"I don't remember much of the rest of the night. The only thing I do remember is being out on the balcony with Russ, and Pat coming out to say that it was time for us to go home. All I really remember is that Russ was kissing me, and I think his hand might have been under my skirt, but I am not at all sure about that. I don't even remember getting to Pat and Bob's. When I got up the next morning, Pat just reamed me, telling me I was a complete fool to be fooling around on you, acting like a slut, and that I had better get my act together and start acting like a loving wife again. I realized on the way home that she was right; so I sucked it up, and did my best to seem happy and loving. I know it didn't last very long, but I just couldn't hold it together any longer."

"A week or so later, Russ called up and invited me to lunch. What he had actually done was have a picnic lunch put together at a deli, together with a bottle of wine. We went down to the park and had lunch under some trees. It was a beautiful setting, and it seemed so peaceful and calm, so much not like what my life had become. To make a long story short, we wound up kissing, then one thing led to another, and before I knew it, I found myself masturbating him, while he did the same for me."

"Afterward, the guilt was almost overwhelming, and my depression got worse. But it seemed that I just couldn't break away from Russ. I guess he mesmerized me like a snake does a rabbit. Every time I saw him after that I felt more and more guilty, and the guiltier I felt, the worse my depression got, until I was hardly able to even function at work. Alan has been able to cover for me, but I don't know how much longer he can do that."

"By the time you saw us together; I had masturbated him a couple of times, and given him a couple of blow jobs, although I didn't let him come in my mouth. It is possible I did something like that at the ball, but I have no way of knowing without asking Russ, I just don't remember. I also haven't talked to Russ since the day you saw us together."

"The day you saw us, was the first time we had ever gone to a hotel. When he had asked me the day before to go to lunch, he asked me to wear something really sexy, and to see if I couldn't take the afternoon off, because he had something really special planned. That morning, when I got dressed, I just forgot about his request to dress in something sexy, and just wore what I would normally wear. I didn't remember until just before I was to go down to meet Russ, so I went to the ladies room, took off my bra and panties, and figured that it was the best I could do. When you saw his hand up my skirt, I had just told him what I had done, and he was checking it out."

"I am certain that I was going to go up to his room with him, and I certainly would have given him a blow job, but I don't think I would have had intercourse with him, not with my fear of getting pregnant. That's why the blowjobs and masturbation, I didn't want to get pregnant, and most of all I didn't want to betray you that way."

"When you found us, it didn't take more than a minute or two for my whole world to collapse around me. I ran out to try and find you, but I couldn't see your car, and you wouldn't talk to me on the phone. I called a cab and went back to the office to get my car. Then I just drove around the city for a few hours, until I finally went over to Pat's. She was absolutely disgusted with me, and even now she has trouble talking to me without getting angry at me."

"I had an extended appointment with my psychiatrist yesterday, to prepare for this, and for the first time told him the full story. He told me that he had thought something like this had gone on and that he wasn't particularly surprised, but that it had filled in a few gaps for him and gave him more of an idea of how to treat me."

"Tom, I love you more than life itself, and I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this up to you if you will let me. It won't happen again – I have the tools to deal with things now. I will still have to continue seeing my psychiatrist for awhile, until the last of this depression is gone, but I can see an end to it, maybe in a couple of months. I have a couple of other things to get worked out, primarily dealing with my anger at my parents for getting killed, but those will get worked out also."

Ann finally looked up at Tom, tears running down her cheeks, her makeup streaked down her face.

Tom's face was stony, his jaw was clenched, and his hands in fists, the fingers white from the pressure on them.

Dr. Ayers broke in. "Tom, before you say anything, I would like to add something here. When a woman is depressed, significantly depressed, the chances of her having an affair go up. When she is clinically severely depressed, and that is coupled with a poor self-image, the chances sky rocket. Usually all it takes is a sympathetic listener. Ann has been both. You have to think of this as though she were very ill, and has been for quite awhile."

Tom was quiet for a few minutes, and Ann cold feel the same icy coldness that Tom had earlier, although she didn't know it. Then he said: "Let me get this straight. When you were depressed, instead of trusting me to try to help you through it, you went to a stranger, telling him things that you hadn't even told me. You then proceeded to give him blowjobs; something that you have never done to me, because you think it is nasty. You also continued to do this, even though you felt guilty about it. Is that correct?"

"Essentially, yes."

Tom stood up.

"I am going to have to go try to work through this as best I can, and I certainly can't do it here."

With that Tom opened the door and left, closing it quietly behind him.

Ann burst into tears, sobbing into her handkerchief.

"Ann, I know that wasn't the response you had hoped for, but I think it is positive that he didn't blow up, and he didn't scream at you. We'll just have to see where this goes from here."

The following Tuesday, Dr. Ayers opened the session with questions about Tom and Ann's sex life before the miscarriage. Ann explained that although they had sex once or twice a week, it was always in the missionary position. Tom had tried to interest her in trying some other things, but Ann had thought that they were nasty, or weren't something that anyone but a slut would do, and simply refused to participate in them. This simply confirmed what Tom had told her the previous evening.

"Ann, sex between consenting adults is never bad. It can be glorious. But it can sometimes be sweaty, nasty, just plain sex, but never bad. Tom could bend you over the kitchen table, pull down your panties, and just fuck the hell out of you, and it would not be something a slut would do. It would just be a loving wife, letting her husband enjoy her."

"I told you and Tom that depression and lack of self image could easily result in a woman having an affair. A poor sex life at home is very often the reason men have affairs. If they can't get what they want at home they will often take advantage of some pretty young thing that is coming on to them, and the marriage goes down hill from there. And before you ask, no, I haven't seen any indication that Tom has had an affair, nor that he is planning one."

Dr. Ayers pulled a stack of paper out of a drawer and handed it to Ann.

"This is what I put together for my clients who have similar problems with sexual relations in their marriage. Mostly it is excerpts from a book published a number of years ago called 'Joy of Sex'. The authors gave me permission to use certain portions in my counseling. The top page is a list of several books that I think you should read. At a minimum you should read the first two on the list, and if you have time, the others may well be useful, but the first two are the important ones. The last things on the list are a list of web sites that deal with erotic stories and videos."

"You mean you want me to go watch porn? That is completely disgusting!"

Dr. Ayers sighed to herself.

"Yes. You certainly do not have to read or watch anything that truly offends you. I am not asking you to do that. I am asking you to go to these sites with an open mind, and see that other people do the same things that Tom wanted you to do. I want you to get an idea of what Tom might like, assuming that you can get back together. There are all kinds of things on these sites, romantic, one on one sweaty sex, bondage, you name it and it is there. I don't mean to imply that you should, or must, participate in any particular activity, just be aware of what the possibilities are."

Ann was beet red, and trying her best not to look embarrassed.

Three weeks later, Ann had read the first two books, and at least initially been totally shocked by what they were talking about people doing. She was even more shocked by the explicit sex that was depicted in the stories she read and the videos she watched. But when she went back and re-read the stories that had at least some appeal to her (usually romantic or one-on-one stories) she found that her vagina had a mind of its own, getting wet as she got to the good parts. She found herself touching herself, but every time she did, she remembered the day when her mother caught her touching herself.

"Ann, nobody but a total slut does things like that. I haven't raised you to be a slut, and I expect you to behave like I have raised you."

Her aunt had noticed the books, and had even caught her on the computer watching some of the videos. She didn't say much of anything, just "It's about damn time, your mother screwed your mind up about sex, and by the time you came to live with me, I had all I could do to deal with your loss. I couldn't find a way to enlighten you about sex."

A week or two later, Ann was in her aunt's library after dinner, reading a few of the stories offered, as Dr. Ayers had suggested. Several times this evening she had found her hand straying to her crotch, rubbing it gently. Every time she realized what she was doing, she had immediately pulled her hand away, and found something else to do for a few minutes.

Maggie had come into the library (actually it was a third bedroom that had been converted into an office), and was reading a book, seemingly not paying a lot of attention to her. After Ann had jerked her hand away from her clit for the third or forth time, Maggie sighed, closed her book, and cleared her throat.