Regret

Be warned. This is a simple little story of sadness and regret. That's all it is and all it was ever intended to be. I just wondered what a BTB story would be like if written from the cheater's point of view and if the cheater had a conscience. I'm afraid that this is what came out. Many will not like it. If you are looking for a rabid BTB or RAAC story, this is not for you.

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God I'm a greedy bitch! What is it they say? I'm too evil to love and too stupid to live? Yeah, that's me, alright. I'm an evil, stupid bitch. I had it all. I had everything I ever wanted and more than I needed, and then one day it wasn't enough.

My name is Bonnie Brown. How's that for a name? I was born Bonnie Betsy Lowrie. My parents had high hopes for me. I married Benjamin Brown. So much for the theory that a name would bring me grace.

I was 38 when I destroyed my life. That's not old, is it? I thought it was at the time. You know, our culture worships youth. You work hard, take your education seriously, get through college with good grades, find a good job, marry a great guy, have a few kids, and just when life is looking good the world turns its attention to someone younger. Actually, it wasn't any one thing in particular. It just slowly dawned on me that the young interns in the office were getting all the attention. Men used to flirt with me. I didn't let them get anywhere, but it was fun. It made me feel sexy and desirable. Then one day I noticed I wasn't getting that attention anymore.

Life had become a series of obligations. More was expected of me at work. My kids needed to be gotten up, dressed, and fed. At night they needed help with their homework. There was laundry to do, a garden to weed, and bills to pay. There were a dozen other things every day. Sure, my husband was there to pitch in. He did loads of laundry without being asked, cooked meals when I was late getting home, cut the lawn, and helped the kids with their homework, but I was the wife and mother. The responsibility was mine! I felt the weight of the world on my shoulders.

Looking back on it, I must have been depressed. Maybe that was it. I don't know. I just know that I felt all these obligations, and my life was stuck in a routine that never changed. I must have been insane! I would give anything, I would give my very soul, to have that life back for just one day. But I can't give my soul because I lost it. I threw it away along with everything of real value that I had.

I was called into the director's office on Wednesday March 5th. Monday after next, the 17th, I had to go to New York for a week of training. It was my company's version of management school and it meant my company saw a promotion in my future. I was moving up!

I went home and told my family. You'd think they would get tired of hearing me talk about the trip for almost two weeks, but it was all I could think about. They were all excited for me. The kids asked a hundred questions and my husband kept telling me I would do great! They were all behind me and they filled me with confidence.

I went shopping that Saturday with Ben's encouragement and his charge card. Ben is my husband. I needed several new suits. There would be socializing in the evenings and I needed some new clothes for that as well. The up and coming from around the country would be there and I needed to make a good impression. They had to know that I was one of them. I wanted to be remembered! Yeah, they remember me alright.

Sunday came. I gave my husband a quick kiss, hugged the kids, and took the shuttle to the airport. The coming week was all I could think about. On the plane I finally realized that I left in such a rush that I spent so little time saying goodbye to my family. I told myself they would understand.

I was staying in the hotel where the classes would be held. I got to my room, freshened up, and found my way around. I didn't know anyone, but I overheard several people talking about the class. I introduced myself and we had dinner together. This was my introduction to Janet, Donna, and Jim. After dinner they invited me to join them for drinks and I felt "What the heck?" This was my week away from my routine. There was a dance floor; and while the music was canned, Jim took turns dancing with the three of us. Ben took me dancing from time to time, but it was fun to be on my own and dancing with someone new. I told myself I wasn't misbehaving, and Jim was taking turns with each of us. It was just dancing, and we were in public. There's nothing wrong with that, is there? As we worked our way through a few drinks, the dancing got closer. By the end of the night I could feel Jim's member against me. I admit I was enjoying it. I was feeling young again, but it was a bit too much. I was feeling guilty, so I excused myself and retired for the night. It wasn't until I was getting into bed that I realized I never called home to tell them I arrived safely, and it was too late then to call.

The classes were interesting, and I was working hard. At night we all met at the bar for drinks. I danced with most of the men, but it seemed I danced with Jim most of all. As the evening wore on, I could feel his member up against me more and more and I was enjoying it. I was feeling young again and what was the harm? We were in public and nothing was going to happen!

The harm came Wednesday night. We had been getting close, too close, and I spent an hour just dancing with Jim. He held me tight, I could feel his erection against me, and I was aroused. I excused myself and went to the ladies' room to dry my panties and when I returned, we found a table to ourselves. You know how this story ends. He kept on working me and I kept on enjoying the attention. I ended up spending the night in his hotel room having sex with a man I hardly new. I should have been ashamed, but I didn't feel an ounce of guilt. I felt young and sexy with my real-world obligations far away. Then just to compound my mistake, I flirted shamelessly with him all Thursday and Friday. We spent Thursday night in my room, ordering room service, and never went dancing. We even managed a quickie Friday after the training seminar before it was time for us to leave. I felt young and wild, like I didn't have a responsibility in the world, and I could do anything! Men wanted me! Women wanted to be me!

At times I would begin to get that slight pang of guilt; but before it could overwhelm me, Jim was there to take my mind off it. He'd smile, touch me, kiss my neck, and my lust would return. Thinking back, he didn't do anything for me that my own husband couldn't do. His dick wasn't exceptional, but he drove me crazy with it. He didn't last any longer than my Ben. His kisses weren't romantic. His voice wasn't soothing. All he did was give me two nights of unbridled passion and a quickie on the way out the door.

Then on the flight home, going back to the life I had made, when he was no longer there to distract me, reality finally hit. I had cheated on my husband, betrayed the one and only man I loved with a man I hardly knew, and I did it without regret. Worse than that, I shamelessly carried on in front of witnesses. Everyone knew what I was doing! How could they miss it? The women weren't jealous of me; they were judging me! In a few days my name would me "slut" in every company office across the country. It was only a matter of time before word of my behavior reached my office.

How was I going to keep this from Ben? He wasn't particularly close to the people I worked with, but he came to the Christmas parties and the occasional backyard cookout. Somebody, sometime, was going to say something and then what would I do? Worse, what if I caught something? I was on the pill, so I never thought of using a condom. I rode Jim bareback for more than two nights. What do they say? I had fucked everyone he had ever fucked. Damn it, I was fucked!

For the rest of the flight I was filled with dread. I felt that my fate was sealed, and it was just a matter of time. My life, my husband, my kids, my home, it was all at risk now. For the life of me I couldn't think of a way to put the week behind me. I didn't even have his cell phone number. He was just a dick to me, a man who wanted me instead of those young interns, and who I could enjoy for a few days without responsibilities. If that doesn't say "Slut!", what does? I had no way to contact him to tell him to keep his mouth shut because I had never wanted to contact him after I left.

From that moment on I was a dead woman walking. The plane was carrying me closer to my fate and I saw no alternatives but to face it and accept the consequences. I thought about telling Ben and throwing myself on his mercy, but what if he couldn't forgive me? I would never forgive me if I were in his shoes. Ben would want to make love when I got home. I'd been away for almost an entire week. I couldn't put him off without hurting him, but what if I'd caught something this week? If I gave it to Ben, he was sure to figure it out. Then I'd be worse than a slut in his mind. I'd be a dirty whore. My heart was racing wildly, and I thought, "Maybe I'll get lucky and have a heart attack." I didn't get lucky.

The drive home was worse with every mile. I was taking myself to my own execution and I had no way to stop it.

I walked through our front door, hoping it would still be our front door, to the shouts of "Mommy's home!" I was mobbed by three children who threw their arms around me and a husband who covered me with kisses. Everyone was smiling and they all wanted to hear about my week, what I saw, what I did, and what was it like? I almost broke down right there and wept, but I held it together. What did I do? How could I tell them what I did?

I looked from child to child and saw nothing but love. My husband was beaming at my return. Everyone was so happy to see me, and I was showered with love from all directions. I didn't deserve any of it. I had betrayed them all.

I put on a brave face and I told them all about the course. I told them about the meals. I described all the sights and sounds of the city. I left out the adultery. I left out how I carried on in front of everyone. I left out my betrayal of them all.

From that evening on I lived in panic that I would be found out. Ben wanted to make love and I couldn't say no without arousing his suspicion, so I gave myself to him in the bed we'd shared since our wedding. I told myself that Jim wasn't a bad guy. He wasn't the type to go to prostitutes. No, he just fucked married sluts like me. I told myself I was sure he was clean. I made up my mind to be the best, most loving, most affectionate wife that ever lived. I was determined that if Ben ever learned of my crime, his love for me would overwhelm the anger and hurt and he would forgive me. I forgot one thing.

It was four months later, and I was starting to think that I'd gotten away with it. I would never do it again. I would never betray Ben and the kids that way. I would be the perfect wife. I came through the door, happy to be home, ready to prepare dinner for the family. The house was quiet. There were no voices, no activity, none of the chaos that I had once taken for granted. Instead, there was only Ben sitting quietly in a chair, dejected, his head hanging, with tears on his cheeks.

"Ben? What's wrong, honey? Are you okay?"

"I got an email at work today. It seems you must have upset someone at your office, said the wrong thing, pissed them off. Whatever you did, they really don't like you very much."

"What did I do? I usually get along with everyone."

"I don't know. I just got an email today with some cell phone photos of you at your training course. Remember when you went away for that week of training? It looks like you had a good time. It looks like the guy you were with had an especially good time."

I heard my husband's words and I wanted to deny it all. I wanted to tell him that I loved him and only him. I wanted him to know that there could never again be anyone else for me but him. I couldn't do any of those things. My mind shut down. It went blank. I sat there with my mouth open just staring into space. Was this the beginning of the end? Would I lose everything because of a week of being stupid beyond anything I'd ever done before or would ever do again? Was my life as I knew it over?

He had it all. There were no pictures from inside the bedrooms, but he had photographs of me doing things in public that I hadn't remembered doing, but he showed me the images and pictures don't lie. I was dancing way too close to Jim. I was kissing him on the dance floor and at our table. He had his hand on my ass and in my blouse. They even got a photograph of Jim's hand on my leg and up my skirt as we sat at the table. I was done. My fate was sealed. I confessed everything and begged for forgiveness.

Ending #1:

I had to try. With genuine tears in my eyes, I said, "Ben, I am so very sorry. I want you to know that nothing like this has ever happened before and it will never happen again. Sweetheart, I love you so much and I love the life we have together. Please, please give me a second chance. I promise you will never regret it. I'll make you forget the one and only time I ever got so stupid. You won't regret it. I promise!"

Believe it or not, that's exactly what my loving, amazing husband did, or tried to do. He never asked to know more. He never made me recount my actions. He never asked me why or made me explain. He just sat there and cried for hours and hours as he slowly died inside. I held him, I kissed him, and I told him that I loved him and no one else. I promised I would take away the pain and never hurt him again and I did everything in my power to keep that promise.

So, I told you that I forgot one thing, right? I forgot that when you break a man's heart you can't always put it back together again. This man who loved me unconditionally, who lived to make me happy, was broken beyond repair. He never smiled again. He never laughed again. We sometimes made love, but it seemed that every time his mind was someplace else, imagining me with someone else. I did everything I could to heal him, but it was never enough.

The kids grew up, got jobs, and moved away. We continued to sleep next to each other, but there was a quiet sadness in the house. Eventually, I came to realize that it wasn't just the sex with another man that ruined my life. My gentle, loving husband had placed in my trust everything that gave him value. With my betrayal I had taken from him his sense of worth, the feeling that he was loved, the knowledge that his life had meaning. I came to realize that I had a choice: either I could leave him, give him his freedom to find another woman that could rebuild the man I had destroyed, or I could stick it out and do my best to be a good and loving wife to him even if he never saw me that way again. I knew that if I left, it would only confirm what my cheating told him - that he was without value, worthless as a man and husband. I stayed and slowly watched this wonderful man turn inward on himself until there was little left of the man that I had married.

Somehow, my kids found out what I'd done. Ben never told them. He wouldn't do that to them or to me. How they found out I don't know, but they did. That created a rift between us that has never fully healed. They witnessed their father's slow descent and they knew it was all my fault.

You see, I never went through the divorce I anticipated on that flight home all those years ago. But I lost my husband and my children just as certainly, just as completely, as if they'd all left me and moved away. Oh, they left me alright. They just never moved away.

Ending #2:

I had to try. With genuine tears in my eyes, I said, "Ben, I am so very sorry. I want you to know that nothing like this has ever happened before and it will never happen again. I was feeling old and I got stupid. Sweetheart, I love you so much and I love the life we have together. I know that now. Please, please try to give me a second chance. I promise you will never regret it. I'll make you forget the one and only time I ever got so stupid. You won't regret it. I promise!"

Believe it or not, that's exactly what my loving, amazing husband did. At least, he tried to do it. He never asked to know more. He never made me recount my actions. He never asked me why or made me explain. He just sat there and cried for hours and hours as he slowly died inside. I held him, kissed him, and I told him that I loved him and no one else. I promised I would take away the pain and never hurt him again and I did everything in my power to keep that promise.

So, I told you that I forgot one thing, right? I forgot that when you break a man's heart you irrevocably change the man. This man who loved me unconditionally, who lived to make me happy, was broken beyond repair. He tried. He really did. We talked. I opened my heart. We went to counseling. All I wanted was to see him happy again, to erase the pain and disappointment I'd brought to him.

Six months later we called it quits. I would have tried for the rest of my life to make him happy, to make him forget, but he had nothing left. I'd taken it all from him and thrown it away.

Ben didn't move far, and he remained an almost daily part of our lives. He just wasn't my loving husband anymore. He gave his time and his heart to our kids, and he was polite to me, but the joy was gone. The love for me was gone. Betrayal will do that to a man. He sees his wife as something wonderous, unique, something to be celebrated every day. Then she does something horribly stupid and all he sees is a common slut.

I never remarried. I never dated. The man I loved remained in my life, just on the edge of existence, and that would sustain me.

Ending #3:

I had to try. With genuine tears in my eyes, I said, "Ben, I am so very sorry. I want you to know that nothing like this has ever happened before and it will never happen again. I was feeling old and I got stupid. Oh God, I can't believe what I did to us! I'm going to regret it for the rest of my life. I've never really felt clean since I got home from that damn trip! Sweetheart, I love you so much and I love the life we have together. I know that now. Please, please give me a second chance. I promise you will never regret it. I'll make you forget the one and only time I ever got so stupid.

Believe it or not, that's exactly what my loving, amazing husband did. He never asked to know more. He never made me recount my actions. He never asked me why or made me explain. He just sat there and cried for hours and hours. I held him, kissed him, and I told him that I loved him and no one else. I promised I would take away the pain and never hurt him again and I did everything in my power to keep that promise.

So, I told you that I forgot one thing, right? I forgot that when you break a man's heart it can take a lifetime to mend it. This man who loved me unconditionally, who lived to make me happy, was broken and it was all my fault. We went to counseling. It was humiliating. Ben never asked for the details, but our counselor insisted on it. He said, "Confession is good for the soul." I did whatever was needed. All I wanted was to see my husband happy again, to erase the pain and disappointment I'd brought to him.

Six months later it seemed we were on the mend. It was a hard, guilt-ridden six months. Life in the house was far from normal; but the angry looks were gone, and the tears came to both of us less often. I have no doubt there were times he wanted to call it quits, but he never gave up on us and I wouldn't, either. I would have apologized for the rest of my life, but there came a day in the therapist's office when Ben turned to me, looked me in the eyes with a horrible sadness on his face and simply said "You messed up, but you need to stop now. I don't want your apologies. I hope you never stop feeling sorry, but we both need to get on with our lives." I thought it was the end for us. Those last words about "...get on with our lives." echoed in my head. I was sure he was telling me he wanted a divorce. "I love you, Bonnie. I hate what you did, and I might kill that bastard if I ever see him, but I want the woman I married to be back in my life. I want her back in my bed. I want to see her smile and hear her laugh. I want to grow old with her. I want us to get back to being happy again." There were tears in his eyes.