Risk Management

She shook her head. "No, a friend of mine."

I continued. "When I invited Céline and Celeste to join Sue and me for dinner, Sue was quite cross because she hadn't packed anything dressy. But Celeste's daughter used to have a part time job dancing in the stage shows at one of the local theatres and some of her costumes were still at her mum's. That rather revealing one was the one Sue chose for herself. I admit that I was tempted to tell her to change it for something more conservative when I first saw her in it, but she looked so stunning that I just couldn't disappoint her."

Tracey glanced at Céline. "You looked lovely too, and so did your friend. Isn't it awkward for her now? With Dennis dating you instead?"

I inclined my head slightly and she got the message. "Celeste is busy now with her guests so Dennis has moved in with me. But she is welcome to visit him when she can."

Tracey took a moment to process what she had just heard. "So when the Bistro described you as his companions...?"

I stepped in. "Yes. Both of them, though not usually at the same time. And Suzanne knows. We're telling you this ourselves so that she doesn't have to. Or worse, feel she has to lie to you about us."

"And now you two are together? Here in England?" I think Tracey knew where this was going.

"I wanted to introduce her to my family," I explained.

"Because you're...?" She prompted.

"Perhaps," Céline replied.

"If she'll have me," I countered.

Tracey looked intently at Céline. "Are you staking your claim? Is that why you're here?"

She smiled at me before she replied. "No, Celeste and I are alike. Our husbands were... difficult. Hers died in a drunken accident and mine left me for another woman. We have no time or patience for games now. I want Dennis in my life. So does Celeste, though she does not love him as I do. He is not mine to claim. We have asked him to stay with us. If he stays, it is because he wants to, not because I have claimed him."

I think that was when Tracey 'got it'. "So," she mused, shifting her gaze to me. "When I made sure that you overheard me telling my sister I was going to cheat on you, I guaranteed that you would never trust me again, didn't I?" I nodded, sadly.

"But Céline and her friend, because they have been hurt themselves, aren't like me; they say what they are feeling. They are honest with you. You trust them; don't you?" I nodded again.

"So you aren't staking a claim," that was directed at Céline. "You're just letting me know that whatever hope I had of winning him back is futile."

Céline acquiesced. "Yes. I am his for as long as he wants me. But his love is his to give, not yours or mine to demand. You must know by now though that he could never truly be with you again. I hope he has forgiven you, but could he ever forget? Would you, in his place? I think not. You must, how do you say in English? Move on with your new life."

Tracey was quiet for a while. I asked about her being home so early. She explained that she had seen her counsellor that afternoon and didn't have to go back to the office afterwards. Then she realised. "So you weren't expecting to see me?"

"Not really," I explained. "I was surprised to see your car and Céline thought we should stop to see if you were okay. This wasn't some sort of planned intervention," I assured her.

"When you wrote to me," she recalled. "You said you hoped never to see me again."

"That was how I felt," I said, truthfully. "I still won't be popping in regularly to chat but we share a daughter and I don't want our history to sour the big events in her life. If you can accept that Céline and even Celeste might be with me for her graduation, her birthdays, even her wedding one day, then I would be okay being there at the same time as you and, perhaps one day, someone you care about."

"That's probably more than I deserve," she admitted, surprising me. "It's a deal. I can't judge you. I'm glad you've found someone more deserving. I hope I can fix myself enough to risk another relationship."

I looked at my watch. We needed to leave soon to get ready for our evening out. I explained to Tracey that we had to leave and, as she stood she, like in Barcelona, opened her arms for a hug. This time it felt more natural; so I held her while Céline looked on.

"I'm sorry how things turned out," Tracey whispered to me. "If only I could turn back the clock." She looked so sad. "But it wasn't just that was it? How far back would we have to turn the clock, to reach the place where we were actually happy?"

That was the point; wasn't it? "I don't know. But what's done is done and we have to look forward. Perhaps you should treat what has happened as a catalyst for change," I suggested. "I've been very lucky, but if I had drawn inwards rather than travelling to find my peace, then I would never have met Celeste or Céline. It's up to you to find your own way."

We made the usual small talk as we left, minus the promises to keep in touch. We'd taken a step forward, but let's be realistic.

Alan and Gracie listened, entranced as we related our visit over dinner. They were even more captivated when Céline began to describe our relationship. They hadn't seen Sue's links to Simone's social media posts. I showed them the photos on my phone. They both admired Céline and Suzanne's dresses but were intrigued by the woman on my other arm.

"Oh," said Céline, nonchalantly. "That is Celeste, his lover." Alan nearly choked on his drink, while Gracie stopped eating and froze, her fork half way to her mouth."

"Sorry?" Asked my brother, recovering the power of speech. "Did I hear you correctly?"

"Did we not say?" Céline carried on eating her entrée. "Dennis and I are a couple but he was involved with my friend Celeste first, so we agreed that it would be cruel to stop them being together. She visits us when she can find the time." She frowned. "Summer is very busy for her. I worry that she will become frustrated."

The pair gaped at us. "It's probably a French thing," I offered, as Céline went back to her meal. "Céline's husband lied and cheated and left her for another woman. That was hurtful and unforgivable. But," I shrugged. "Céline knows that the relationship that her friend and I have is primarily physical. I mean, I am very fond of her but I love Céline. So she doesn't feel threatened and Celeste and I are open about what we do." I gave a short laugh. "In fact," I gave my girlfriend a faux glare. "I'm pretty sure that they both talk more about my sex life with each other than they do with me."

Céline grinned in agreement. "I admit it. We do talk about Dennis. He was hurting when Celeste first met him. It seemed that Tracey had stopped loving him and started to use him. We know that we have to be careful when we try to show him how much we care, to be sure that he does not think we are using him too." she looked worried for a moment. "Do we make you do things, mon cher?"

I considered how to answer, while Alan and Gracie exchanged meaningful looks. I assumed they would be having a long chat about me and my ladies tonight. Anyway, I finally came up with a response to Céline's concern. "Suzanne and I discussed this a while ago. You point things out, you offer options and you make suggestions. But none of what you do is self-serving." I decided to share some examples. "Sue's dress was very revealing. She chose it and neither of you tried to persuade her not to wear it. I was horrified at first, but why? You gave her the confidence to dress as the gorgeous woman she is and I needed to come to terms with that. It didn't benefit either of you. Just Sue and I."

I looked across to my brother and his wife. "It was the same on the beach." I explained. "When they all took their bikini tops off I should have been horrified. but they were just three more women with their tits on display amongst dozens of others. Dozens of women I mean; not tits." Alan choked again. I was quite getting to enjoy doing that to him. "So no. You don't manipulate me the way that Tracey did. It's more that you help me to navigate situations that I don't always understand. And I'm grateful."

I reached across the table and took her hand. "In fact, I don't think that I can cope too well without you. Céline, Do you think you would marry me? If you say yes, we can go to choose a nice ring for you tomorrow in England and then a wedding band in France when we get home."

Through the tears she managed to stammer out a reply, "Oh! Mais oui mon amour, je t'adore." (Oh, yes my love, I adore you). She walked around that table, sat on my lap and kissed me soundly. The other diners nearby seemed entertained by our antics and a couple of tables even applauded quietly.

Gracie was tearing up too, so the pair of them left for the ladies to repair the damage to their make-up while I caught the waiter's eye and ordered a bottle of champagne. When they returned, Céline excused herself to call Celeste to share the news. Even sitting at our table we could hear the excitement in her voice as she stood outside the pub door speaking to her friend. (She would never make a call at the table.)

Our server waited until she returned before bringing the champagne to open at our table. As he left, he congratulated us. I, in turn, raised my glass to Céline and made my toast. "Alan, Gracie, I'd like to introduce you to my fiancée, Mme Céline Allard."

We were married in France the following May. Dad, Alan and his family stayed with Celeste, and Suzanne stopped with Céline and me. I thought about inviting Tracey and June too but we all agreed that would be just weird. We had the ceremony in Celeste's garden. Céline had no close family but many of her friends were there and Celeste stood in for Céline's father. It was only a civil ceremony but the garden was splendid and the Celebrant was an attractive older lady called Reine, who my father surprised by inviting her to join us at the reception. Even more surprising was that she accepted.

Obviously we had to have the reception at the Bistro where my adventure began and, once the food service was complete, both Simone and Veronique joined us. The food was as amazing as ever, Alan and Gracie's kids were really well behaved, and we just partied there until midnight.

We waited for a couple of days until my family left for home and then honeymooned in, where else? Barcelona. We stayed at a lovely little boutique hotel in the Gothic Quarter and, when we eventually emerged from our bedroom, Suzanne played tour guide. It's a truly beautiful city and Sue had put together the perfect itinerary for us to appreciate it best. We didn't go back to the restaurant near the station on that visit; it didn't seem appropriate. I will, though, the next time I visit by train.

How do we live? Well, after taking my fiancée home, I had returned to work in the UK for a few months, mentally fully restored. Bill, my boss was able to advise the board that he had persuaded me to accept a voluntary redundancy payment and, by redeploying the remaining staff, and not replacing those who had moved on to other posts, he could show he'd saved the business from having to announce any compulsory redundancies. He looked good and by the time the money hit my bank, Tracey and I were divorced.

To be honest, I don't think that she'd have fought me for it, though her solicitor might have tried to persuade her. She and I had come to a sort of truce; she knew that her actions had killed our marriage, and she even recognised that her attitude for the last few years had left me at a point where enough was enough. I never really believed that she had fucked Leo, but it felt as though her respect for me by then was so degraded that it was only a matter of time before she convinced herself that she could. The truth was, for years our marriage had been all but dead, it just took Tracey's idiotic game to give me the strength to put it out of its misery.

In fact, according to gossip from Sue, apparently one of Tracey's colleagues had given Leo a fairly positive review and, now that she's not married, Tracey has actually dated him a few times. I'm okay with that; I just hope that she doesn't fuck it up again. Sue says her mum has learnt her lesson. We'll see.

So, after a few months working for a jobbing builder in Agde, mainly working on properties owned by Brits, Céline helped me to set up my own property management company. I advertise in the UK (and a bit in North America) and ensure that my clients' holiday homes are regularly checked, serviced and prepared in advance for guests, paying or otherwise. I always use local labour so I'm not resented in Agde for stealing local jobs. I don't make a fortune but I have my money stashed away, plus, it turns out that my wife is quite comfortably off too.

Suzanne works for me now during the summer vacations and she sometimes invites a guy back to our place for the night. She remembers our deal and, as far as I can tell, they are always lads she's reasonably serious about. In reality, she's letting her step mum give them the once over to see if she thinks that they're keepers. I can't say a thing though because she knows that Celeste and I are still screwing at least once a week.

Céline and I spend a couple of months each year in the UK and Alan and Gracie visit us during the summer and sometimes out of season when it's a bit cooler too. If the weather is good, as a treat for Alan, I'll take them to the beach. I still haven't seen Gracie's tits yet though. Dad visits quite regularly too, but he often stays with Reine, the smooth old charmer that he is.

So there you have it. We're just a couple in our late forties who've found a new love after our first loves let us down. It's true that not every couple in our situation has a wife whose friend pops round for an occasional bout of sweaty sex with the husband, but where's the harm?

As for me; I'm still on a mission to find something that I want to do in bed that either of the girls will refuse. I'm getting nowhere, but it's been fucking amazing fun trying.