She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not

I usually post in loving wives, but this story really didn't fit the normal LW profile. There is no BTB and as for RAAC, the cost is considerable. There is also little if anything erotic, so here I am. Hope you enjoy!

"I'm fucking sorry! But what part of this can't you understand? YOU... JUST... CAN'T... GIVE... ME... WHAT... SHE ... CAN!!!"

That about wrapped it up.

Fifteen minutes ago, I was a happy man. It was Friday night, and I had just wrapped up a nasty negotiation in a divorce settlement. I usually didn't handle divorces, but this was for a friend, a family court judge who did usually handle divorces. His wife had left him high and dry, and suddenly he needed help from a lawyer, and called in a favor. I negotiated a favorable settlement for him though, by managing to make his wife see how much she had hurt him, after he had given her so much. She melted, in spite of her new boyfriend's entreaties to take the judge to the cleaners. I gave her my card, for when the gold digging douche bag dumped her, and she gave it back with her number on the back, for when I needed a (wink wink) favor of if I ever got tired of my wife.

That number may come in handy.

"Ok. I get it. I can't give you what she can. But perhaps you can actually explain the part of this I can't understand. It's he part that went "forsaking all others as long as you both shall live. So take your best shot, and do explain."

My eyes were watery as I looked up. I thought we were perfect together. I locked onto her eyes, and for an instant it was just the two of us again. The willowy blonde bitch was in the room, but she wasn't with us.

"Tommy, I do love you. Just not like I love Tina."

Pffft. Spell broken. Tina moved in to take my wife, my Jeannie in her arms.

"We'll be fair in the divorce. I only want a 50/50 split."

Right. As if.

"I do want the condo though."

She was speaking like a wife who had been married 20 years. We've been together eight, but shit, we were only married three. It's my condo. I bought it with my own earnings, scraped together and saved for years while toiling with my buddies to build our fledgling firm.

"After all, I put you through law school, helping you study, making your meals, cleaning house."

Interesting spin. She graduated from her undergrad the same year I graduated law school. I paid for our meal service, a cleaning service, laundry, and her final year's tuition, courtesy of a modest inheritance from my uncle.

"I should have alimony as well."

Why? She had a degree she never used. She chose to stay home gossiping with her friends and watching daytime TV instead of starting a career. Not my fault!

"And my car."

Ok. It was a lease, and in her name. She could keep the cat. I didn't have to agree to keep up payments.

"I'm staying with Tina for awhile. I'll have a lawyer contact you, and will expect to move back here in a month. That's when Tina's lease is up. I don't expect trouble from you Tommy. This is for the best. I'm being up front and honest, rather than hurting you by cheating behind your back. Now, come give me a kiss goodbye, unless you want plan 'B.'"

I didn't go to kiss her. I went to my bar, and opened a new bottle of my favorite bourbon. I didn't ask her what plan 'B' entailed. Her Plan 'A" sucked. Plan 'B' had to suck more.

"Don't you want to know what plan 'B' is?"

"Must be Plan Bourbon," I thought as I opened my liquor cabinet and poured three fingers of Carmel colored bliss. Bourbon is good. I like to let it roll back slowly on my tongue, and feel the burn as it blooms all the way down to my stomach, where the warmth spreads further and makes me feel bold, confident and secure.

"Nope."

"Tommy, I'm giving you a choice."

The second sip was just as good. I like my whiskey neat. No confusion of temperatures between whiskey, ice or water, and no diluting that yummy burn. And you know how the flavors left behind as the alcohol evaporates into your sinuses kind of explode outward onto the sides of your tongue? It's the second best sensation in the world, right behind the feeling the moment you enter the hot, slippery wet sex of a woman with your throbbing cock. Since the woman I loved was throwing me aside for another woman, the whiskey sensation was currently number one, by default.

"If you prefer, you can stay. That way you won't have to hunt for a new place and move. The three of us can make this our home. You can move into the little bedroom, and provide for us. In return, we'll let you watch us fuck once a week and you can even masturbate and take the edge off. If you are good and cooperative, you can fuck me once a month, but with a condom. When we are ready to have children, you can have me with no condom, and Tina will let you artificially inseminate her. You and I will stay married, for the sake of our children, and we will raise Tina's kids as your nieces or nephews. We will do all of the other wifely things around here, like cooking and cleaning, just as I always have. But you have to agree to still sign the same property agreement as if we were divorced. The condo becomes mine. Everything will be mine, and Tina's, including you. Who knows, we both may get to like you enough as our token man, you may get me more than once a month, and you may even convince Tina that men are ok to play with..."

She kept talking. I couldn't listen anymore. The bourbon was good. I was glad I had something I could count on.

"...don't have to decide right now. You have this month, until our...um...Tina's lease is up. I think we are being gracious including you in our new relationship. Now come give me a goodbye kiss."

I didn't. For some reason it was important to her though, so she came to me and tried to kiss me. I caught her chin in my hand and held her away.

"No. You are not allowed to confuse me like that. Get your lawyer. I'll see you in a month."

"Ok, Tommy. Be that way. This can go easy, or it can be hard. You have your month to decide. I'll be back May first, ready to move in."

She didn't go.

"What are you waiting for."

"I need some money."

I laughed.

"Debbie, if you leave me, you leave my money too."

"No, I'll get a settlement, with alimony."

"Let me explain something to you. Legally it's called maintenance or support. You don't need support, because you are young, healthy and have a degree that makes you marketable. That means you can get a job."

"I have no experience."

"Right. That's something you get when you actively seek employment, and get a job. You'll have to do that."

"What about the part where you keep me in the manner to which I'm accustomed?"

"Well, the tricky part of that is that the law has ideas of how long it takes to "become accustomed." We were only married for three years, and only together for eight. That's not very long to get accustomed to a lifestyle. As a matter of fact, I'm still in the early stages of the career that will support whatever lifestyle you might have grown accustomed to if you had stuck around."

"Then there's the issue of your MBA. For the first three of three of those eight years we were both full time students, and then you got your MBA in the next two years while I went to work. I supported you and paid the tuition for your MBA. Debbie, when you do get a job I can claim a percentage of your income for a long time, since I fully supported your studies, while you contributed nothing material to our marriage. I may even have grounds to petition you to pay me back for your tuition, room and board during that time! Then, we have no children, so there is a very real chance a judge will rule that you left a marriage to which you contributed nothing."

"But Tina says..."

"Where did Tina study law."

"She was a paralegal at Carson and Letterman."

"I see. Where does she work now?"

"Well, she was let go last week. But it wasn't her fault. She was railroaded, and there was sexual harassment involved."

"Right. Well, if you would like help with the sexual harassment case, I'll help you pro bono once the divorce is over. But I'm not planning to follow your script tonight. I will be contesting your proposal, and you should see a lawyer, because Tina's advice is wrong. It's time for you to go now, and no I don't plan to kiss you. You've declared your love for Tina is superior to your love for me. That's fine, but then asking me to show my inferior affection towards you in the wake of such an announcement is cruel. Take your things and go. We'll talk in a month."

I and my bourbon stood and retired to the terrace for a different kind of Friday night. I watched the foot traffic below. I sipped fermented corn mash. I saw Debbie leave, and before getting into Tina's car, she turned and looked up to see if I was watching. We barely made eye contact before I turned away, and moved towards the rest of my life.

I called my partners, and alerted them to my new reality. They commiserated, and then offered to take care of her lawyer situation for me. Within an hour, they had called every competent divorce attorney in the city and asked them to join my team as a professional courtesy. In the process all of those attorneys were asked advice, this consulted in my case, and would not be able to be represent Debbie.

However, they didn't get everyone, and upon discovering my partners maneuver, Tina activated her network of ultra feminist man haters and came up with a nearly unknown legal eagle. Actually she was an eaglet, and had just hung out her own shingle and was specializing in women's issues. She wasted no time, and called my office at 8:00 on Monday morning. As it happened I was the only one there at that time, with most of the staff coming in at 9:00. Funny things happen in a law firm when you answer your own phone. This time, it worked in my favor.

"Archer, Archer and James, Tommy James speaking."

It wasn't total silence on the other end. I could hear her breathing. She didn't respond verbally however.

"Ok, I don't know who C. Carter is, but your name and number are on my caller ID display, so if you are making a crank call, it's a bad idea."

"No wait! Please don't hang up! I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

"It's ok Ms. Carter. How can I help you."

"Well,...I...ah, I..."

"Ms. Carter, I've generally found that a phone call actually works better if you actually say something to the person who answers. Now..."

"Ok! Ok! I am sorry. This just didn't go as I expected."

"What did you expect?"

"I didn't expect to speak to a partner at this hour. I thought I would get a secretary who could set up a time I could call. I wanted to have the you wondering about me, not thinking I can't even talk on the phone. And I sure didn't expect my contact to be the very person my client is taking action with..."

"Oh I see. You're Debbie's attorney."

"Yes, but I insist you call her Mrs. James. It's a professional etiquette."

"I see. Ms. Carter, if you dispense with your nerves, I'll suspend my sarcasm, and maybe we can actually talk about my wife's action. That's also pretty high on the list of professional niceties."

She took a deep breath, and agreed.

"Thank you. I guess it shows, I'm a little new at this. I just went out on my own."

"That's quite alright. I'm just a couple of years out of school myself. Ms. Carter, let me cut to the chase. My wife is leaving me for another woman. She says she hasn't cheated on me, and I don't believe that, but it has no bearing on the case. Did she tell you we've only been married for three years?"

"Yes, but you've been together for eight, and she helped you through law school."

"Did she tell you during the first three years of that eight she lived in my home rent free, ate food provided for me, used utilities provided by me, and even enjoyed my cleaning service doing her laundry?"

"Yes, but that should be offset by her helping you study..."

"Does she have record of providing this help? Did she record the hours she spent in this pursuit? Are there witnesses? Truth be known, my studies bored her, and the times she offered to help usually wound up with her on the phone to a friend, or going to bed while I was still working. I do have proof, in the form of phone records showing how often she spent the evenings on the phone all night. I have itemized credit card receipts for tickets to concerts, dinners she had without me, trips she took alone while I studied."

"Ok but,..."

"Ms. Carter, I suggest we meet face to face. I will bring what I have that clearly shows how little my wife contributed materially to our marriage. I will also show you how much I provided for her in contributions to her undergraduate education, and also by completely paying for her MBA. I would hate for you to proceed with this case without offering you fair disclosure."

She was quiet for a while, but then agreed that may be her best course of action.

"Very good Ms. Carter..."

"Its Miss, and I could come in to Boston tomorrow afternoon."

"Come in to Boston? Just where are you?"

"Hyannis."

"Hyannis!? What is my wife doing with a lawyer from the Cape!?"

"You didn't exactly make it easy for her to find representation. I'm a friend of a friend of Tina Clark."

"I see. Ok Miss Carter. I'll tell you what. I could use a change of scenery with all I've been dealing with. So I will come to you. Could you meet me this afternoon?"

She agreed. We met, and it was my turn to be reduced to a stammering idiot by being surprised by someone I didn't expect. Carol Carter was gorgeous. Carol Carter was a fox. I stammered through our introductions, and was totally gobsmacked by the beautiful face and the deep blue eyes that stared back at me across the table. I knew I had to get control, and began to question my decision to meet her myself, rather than send, or at least bring along one of my partners.

I made it personal first. I asked her what was good on the lunch menu, and we talked a bit about the food and choice of wines and beers on the menu. She declined a drink, and suggested I do the same since I would be returning to Boston that night.

"Nope. I'm taking a couple of days and staying here. I'm feeling a little shell shocked with my marriage going to shit. So my partners are holding down the fort and I'm going to get some sea air and eat a lobster or two."

I ordered a beer. I ordered the lobster. We talked all afternoon. Then we went to dinner. This time she had wine. We took a sunset cruise and had more wine. Then I took her to my room, and forgot I was ever married.

When we woke up the next day, we made love again. And again. We went to breakfast. Carol felt compelled to call Debbie, and decline to continue to represent her. She didn't put it on speaker, but I could hear both sides of the conversation.

"But why? It was so hard to find a lawyer!"

"I'll help you find someone else."

"I don't want someone else! I told you I will send your retainer as soon as I can get the money out of my stingy husband."

"Stingy! I paid for everything you have. Who the hell is stingy?"

"Is that him? Is he there? He is with you while you are turning me down? This has to be malpractice! I'll sue!"

"Now, now, Miss Colton...."

"I'm not Miss Colton, I'm Mrs. James."

"According to your husband, you want nothing to do with being his wife, so you should probably abandon his name. I have to tell you though, if you spent eight years with this man treating you like he treated me last night, you're a fool! I have never had a lover like him before. If any man had fucked me like he just did, I would never have started with women."

"You slept with my husband? While representing me?"

"Represent you? You told me a pack of lies! You misrepresented your case to me when you asked me to take it! You haven't paid my retainer, and as a matter of fact you didn't even fax the paperwork with your signed copy of our representation agreement back to me. It's true I can't represent your husband, because we consulted. However, that doesn't mean I can't spend some time fucking him."

I stayed the week.

I returned to Boston on the following Monday refreshed and smiling. My partners agreed that a satellite office on the Cape was a great idea, and we took in a very hot and professionally hungry Carol Carter on as an associate, and immediately steered work her way. Debbie's new attorney contacted my partners, who read her in on the situation. Apparently she talked some sense into my wife, as the settlement request we received that following week was significantly more sensible than what she had threatened a week earlier. Gone was the claim on the condo. Gone was the alimony demand. Plan "B" was conspicuously absent. I guess I'd miss out on being the love-slave baby-daddy of a figurehead wife and her lesbian lover. Damn.

The divorce went smoothly. I didn't attend the negotiations or the final decree, so I didn't see Debbie again before all was said and done. I did see Carol. I saw a lot of Carol. Yes in fact, I saw all of Carol quite regularly. We saw each other enough to know we weren't into each other, and that our tastes and habits were so contrary that if we made our relationship permanent, I would certainly be divorced again in short time. We did remain good friends, and eventually she became a partner in Archer, Archer, James and Carter, and her office in Hyannis became a huge part of our practice.

Time passed. Life marched on. I lived the life of a young successful attorney in a city where young successful attorneys could live like kings. I dated my share of women, and slept with the best of them. I had plenty of second dates, and a proper share of third, fifth, tenth dates, and even a couple of longer relationships. I never had another woman dump me, and I never dumped them. Even the serious relationships ended amicably, with both of us agreeing each other wasn't "the one."

I did, however, effectively put Debbie behind me. After the first two years, I stopped thinking about the "what ifs" and "might have beens" with Debbie. After four years, I barely even thought or her at all. I still lived in the modest condo we had shared, visited the same restaurants and clubs, and hung out with the same friends. She had simply faded from importance.

Then one shining Saturday morning years later, I had just finished my run, and slipped into the coffee shop next door to my building. I sat down outside with my coffee and a pastry when a familiar voice greeted me.

"Hello Tommy."

I felt nothing special. There was no bile coming up, no flushing with emotion, no fist clenched blanching at the sound of her voice. There was no flood of longing, no rush of regret, no revival of my love or surge of hate or jealousy. I never burned the bitch, I just let her leave. I never fought her in person or in court, I just let her go. She wanted out, fine. I don't want someone that wants out. True, I didn't let her rob me blind, and I found her "almost attorney" to be an irresistible rebound girl, but I firmly believed that "What part of this can't you understand? YOU... JUST... CAN'T... GIVE... ME... WHAT... SHE ... CAN!!!" is a pretty clear indicator that a marriage is over, so I was already single in my mind. The divorce was just a formality.

"Well, look who's here! Long time no see, Debbie."

I wore my warmest smile.

"Here, have a seat, and chat a while."

She sat down nursing a latte. She looked good, but there was no zing, zing, zing in my heartstrings. My mouth didn't go dry, my cock didn't twitch, my pulse didn't race. That was all in my past.

"I have to confess, Tommy. I'm not here by accident."

"What, are you stalking me then?"

"Yeah, actually I am."

"Well I have to say you're the prettiest stalker I've ever seen."