The Art of Living Well

"I never stepped out on my marriage for 'just sex', and trust me, Dad, by the time I was in my thirties and early forties, I was getting plenty of offers. But I loved my wife and wouldn't dare go back on my vows."

"I received a second chance with Naomi, Mark. Give yourself time to heal, time to grieve your marriage, and when you're ready, open your heart for someone else. There are millions of good women out there, Mark."

"Thanks, Dad."

"Love you, son. Look after yourself."

Throwing myself into work helped distract me. I ended up travelling the state of South Australia, visiting various shops and suppliers, while taking the time each weekend to explore certain regions, particularly the Barossa Valley. I found my divorce made me a hard arsed negotiator, not willing to give an inch unless there was a favourable outcome for my company. At least my bosses were happy with my performance at work and they were already in my ear about remaining in Adelaide permanently.

My daughter visited me a month after I'd moved into the apartment. Waiting for her at the airport, she cried out, "Daddy!" before she ran towards me. Hugging her tightly, spinning her around, she was crying immediately, whispering how much I loved her in return, and that once it was over, I'd be home again for good.

She spent a week with me, and though I was working, I spent most of the time working from home, but whenever I had a moment, we'd chat about anything that came to mind. She let me know that her mother had been inundating her with calls, trying to explain her side of the story. Though I didn't want to show her the evidence, I did have a report printed up which I finally relented and showed her.

By the time she stopped reading, she was in flood of tears and almost growled how much she hated her mother. That wasn't my intention, but despite my protestations that her mother still loved her, I had a bad feeling that it was going to take a long time for her to forgive her mother, if she ever did.

The day she left hurt us both as I know she wanted to stay with me, simply to keep me company. I hugged her for what felt like hours before she needed to leave. I had barely shed a tear during those months when my marriage had fallen apart. I was angry about it, not upset. I find no shame in admitting I needed to cry in my car for a few minutes when my daughter walked away. It made me realise that I was feeling rather lonely.

But her visit had also revitalised me at the same time. I spoke with her every night. My son called me at least once every couple of days. My siblings knew what happened, my little sister promising to visit as soon as she could. My father kept me up to date of anything going on. Even guys at my old office in Sydney seemed to be aware of certain things, but generally called to just shoot the shit and make me laugh.

It was six weeks before Christmas when lightning struck again. I was walking the aisles of a nearby supermarket, bored out of my brain. Grocery shopping was something Kylie and I had always done together. We'd make each other laugh, act like fools, and it would always be an enjoyable experience. I was reaching for a bottle of salad dressing, not realising a woman was reaching for the same bottle. Our hands collided and we both turned and stared at each other. I'm fairly sure my jaw dropped slightly as her cheeks immediately coloured.

"Sorry," I said.

"No, my fault. I didn't see you."

"Please, take the bottle. I can get something else."

"I couldn't possibly take it, it's the last one."

I don't know where I found the confidence for what I said next. "Tell you what, you take the bottle if you grab a coffee with me later."

I had no idea who she was, her name or anything, but that touch had lit a spark in me. And on how pretty her face was alone, I wanted to get to know her. I offered my hand. "I'm Mark."

She smiled as she took my hand, smiling at how soft her skin was. "I'm Jennifer. Do you often pick up women in supermarkets, Mark?"

"Nope, you're the first one."

"And you're confident I'm single?"

"If you're not, I'll retract my invitation. If you are, I'm hoping you'll say yes."

She was brunette, with hair down almost to her shoulders. Her bright blue eyes were shielded by a pair of thin rimmed black glasses, perched on a gorgeous little nose. Her lips were full but real, her face one of classical beauty. I had no idea about her age. I wanted to check out the rest of her but resisted, though I guessed she was six inches shorter than me. No idea what she thought about me in return, but the smile suggested she did like what she saw.

"I'd like a coffee. Why don't you give me your number?" After giving her my number, she sent me a message. "I'll be done shopping in around half an hour, then I'll really need to take this home to put away. But I can meet you in a couple of hours, if you'd like?"

"Are you local?"

"I am. I don't live far away. You?"

"Same. I hate travelling too far to just go grocery shopping."

"Let me know where you are and I'll meet you there." Pushing her trolley forward, she rested her hand on my forearm. "I'll see you soon, Mark. I haven't had a coffee date in far too long..."

I heard the tone and met her eyes. I saw the pain as I saw the same look in my eyes whenever I looked in a mirror. "I'll text you when I get home and let you know where I'll be."

Zooming through the rest of my shopping, I made use of the self-service and practically raced home, throwing everything into the fridge or cupboards before I had a shower and changed. Before I left, I sent Jennifer a message, asking if she liked a nearby coffee shop I'd grown to really like since moving into the local area. She messaged back within a couple of minutes, admitting she visited the same shop quite often, wondering if we hadn't seen each other before.

I'll admit to some nerves as I waited for her to arrive. I'd 'dated' my wife during our marriage, but this was my first real date in over twenty years. She walked in, having changed herself, wearing an utterly gorgeous sundress that highlighted her curves, the colourful pattern simply accentuating her womanly curves. Her bust was generous and she had a great pair of legs. Standing up to greet her, I kissed her cheek and was surprised when she briefly hugged me.

Buying her a drink, it was a case of simply getting to know each other. She admitted that she simply admired my confidence in asking her out in the middle of a busy supermarket. Then she added, "But when you touched my hand, Mark, I felt something..."

"So it wasn't just me?"

She blushed but nodded. "No. I often read about such things but think it's just fantasy." Offering my hand, she took it and we smiled when I closed my hand around hers. "I just felt it again," she whispered.

"Definitely felt it on my end."

We didn't delve into history too much, not on a first date. I learned her name, she was single, and she smiled when showing me her left hand, though it was obvious a ring had once rested on that third finger. She was a kindergarten teacher, but had no children of her own. She lived in a small apartment by herself, had a few close friends. Her parents lived in the city, she had a younger sister, and that she was thirty-five.

"Oh," I said, "I'm... um... forty-five..."

"I don't care how old you are, Mark. I only care about what type of man you are."

When she said that, I had to admit that I was separated from my wife. Noticing the nervous look on her face, I sighed and asked if she wanted another drink, as it was going to take some explanation. I didn't want to tell her everything on our first meeting, but if that was required...

She made me smile when she said, "No, Mark, I'll trust you for now. I can see you're hurting."

"Is it that obvious?"

"I saw the same look in the mirror when he broke my heart." She held my hand again and squeezed. "It gets easier but it's just one day at a time first. Then it's weeks and months, and soon the person that broke it no longer matters." She smiled at me again. "And then maybe you'll meet the right person who can start mending that same heart. It's just some wait more than others, but it happens eventually."

"My dad said the same thing."

"Your father is a wise man."

We finished our second drink and wandered outside. Walking to her car, it was that awkward moment, unsure whether to kiss her, hug her, or just wish her well. When I hugged her, part of me didn't want to let her go. I had no idea I'd find someone I'd be attracted to so much, so quickly again. I think we were both reluctant to break the hug.

"Call me during the week, Mark. I'd love to speak to you again."

"Um, how about tonight?"

She giggled, and it was a dagger to the heart. "You can call me whenever you want."

I called her that night, then every night going forward. I didn't want to get in the way of her usual week as a teacher, but I asked if she wanted to go out for dinner on Friday night. When she said she'd love to, I practically danced around my apartment once I hung up the phone. I hadn't felt that giddy in a long time.

At a conference on the Thursday, more than one commented on my rather sunny disposition. Everyone was aware of my separation and impending divorce so they immediately assumed I met someone. I didn't want to jinx anything but told them that I'd enjoyed a coffee date and that I would be having dinner with the same person the next night. I added I wasn't interested in dating around. I dated one woman at a time. If it didn't work out, then I'd try again with someone else.

The restaurant I'd chosen was one which had rave reviews online but not one I'd visited before. It was casual dining but the food was meant to be superb. Though casual, I still went with trousers instead of jeans, a long sleeved button down shirt, a pair of leather shoes, and I put on a little cologne, though kept the stubble to a minimum.

The restaurant had a bar, and I smiled when Jennifer was already there waiting for me. She looked incredibly nervous. Noticing me approaching, she stood up and, without hesitation, I leaned down to kiss her. She kissed me back immediately as I pulled her into my body, feeling her hand on the back of my head.

"Wow," she whispered when breaking apart, "If you're going to greet me like that on only our second date."

"I wanted to do it at the end of our first."

A waiter approached us to take us to our seats. Thankfully, we got a small semi-circular booth so we could sit side by side. After ordering drinks, we chatted away about our weeks. There was no missing how enthusiastic she was about teaching, but when she admitted to wanting children of her own, I found myself talking about my own.

I think we were both annoyed when the waiter returned, asking about our order, as it disrupted the flow. We agreed to share a starter and dessert, but get a main meal each. I was amazed at how easy conversation flowed, finding myself captivated by her face, her voice, her mannerisms. Fairly sure she found me gazing more than once as she blushed each time.

The food was excellent, no complaints about that, and while the waiters and waitresses were attentive, they were not too intrusive. After dinner, I paid up though she offered to go Dutch, before I asked if she wanted another drink. She accepted immediately, taking her hand and leading her towards a bar I'd been scoping out online. It was a quiet place, a man behind a piano providing background music. There were more booths, Jennifer enjoying a cocktail while I had a bourbon and mixer.

"What happened, Mark?" she finally asked.

I told her everything. How we'd met. Our life together. Our children. Our careers. But then I explained what happened with my father. My lack of relationship with my mother. Their divorce and what I'd learned. Then how I slowly realised my wife was doing the same thing. Then I confessed how I'd left, what I'd done the weeks before everything.

"I'm still married, Jennifer, but we're separated. I've moved here to ensure the divorce goes through. I'm not sure if you'll consider what I'm doing cheating or not. I won't blame you if you did. But my marriage is over. It's in name only. I will return to Sydney to make sure the divorce is granted."

"What if you met someone here?"

"Then I'd talk to them about our options. My children are in Sydney. Being this far away from them is hard." I had to look away as admitting it did upset me. "I miss them every day."

She rested a finger on my cheek so I looked at her. Then she kissed me and I felt better about things. Cuddling into me, she moved a hand to my chest, resting her head against my shoulder.

"My ex-husband was a piece of work, Mark. Swept me off my feet when I was nineteen. He was twenty-five at the time. The age difference didn't bother me but my parents warned me about him. But I was in love and wouldn't listen to them. Didn't see the red flags that were popping up within a couple of months. I was surprised he let me go work but that was all I was allowed to do. Slowly but surely, he isolated me from my family and my friends. I was expected to teach at school then return home and practically be his maid and his whore."

She paused as I had a feeling in my gut that was only the start of the story. Running my hand up and down her side, she snuggled into me more. "I'm guessing it got worse."

"He started slapping me for any sort of imagined transgression. I talked back to him, so I was disrespectful to my husband. I dressed like a slut or I was home late, so I was cheating. I spent money on something I wanted, so I was financially irresponsible. He never said anything positive, he was a sea of absolute negativity."

"I can't imagine wanting to say anything but nice things about you, Jennifer," I said softly.

"I knew I needed to escape. He was crazy and I knew, one day, he'd either punch me and put me in hospital, or he'd just straight out kill me. I called my dad and cried on the phone, asking him to save me. He showed up with my two uncles and a few of his friends. My ex-husband actually tried to fight them all off, but pushing and slapping around a woman is different to fighting off men. Or man, as my father cleaned his clock with one punch, then they tied him to a chair as they helped me move out. Went to the police start away, got a restraining order and AVO against him. I've been divorced for seven years and he doesn't know where I am. I've barely dated, Mark. I was scared for so long." She lifted her eyes to look into mine. "Then I met you, and I had feelings I hadn't felt in so long. I never felt them about him."

She'd driven but wasn't safe to drive so I offered to drive her home. Pulling up outside an apartment complex, I realised it was one I'd looked at before choosing my current residence. Escorting her inside, she opened the front door and hesitated. I made up her mind, pulling her close and kissing her again.

"I had a wonderful night, Jennifer. I would like to do it again."

"During the week?"

"Any night you'd like."

"I'm not a bad hand in the kitchen if you'd like to join me for dinner."

"Let me know the night and I'll bring something too. I'm not too bad myself."

She smiled as she said, "Well, I'll cook first, then you cook for me, and we'll compare notes."

"What night?"

"Wednesday, Mark, though I expect your usual nightly call."

"And plenty of messages."

She kissed me again. "Play your cards right and you might even get a surprise or two in a message."

"What are you doing tomorrow?"

"Nothing."

"Why don't we go to the beach?"

"You just want to see me rocking a bikini." She paused and her eyes lit up. "Though I wonder how you'd look like in a pair of small swim shorts. Just message me when you can pick me up."

I kissed her again and, somehow, managed to drag myself to the staircase. Driving home, I heard my phone ding a couple of times, not opening it until I was inside and sat on my couch with a beer in hand.

J: I had a wonderful night, Mark. xxx

J: Part of me wanted you to stay with me tonight, but I don't want to rush things.

M: I don't want to rush things either.

J: When you're here on Wednesday night, bring a change of clothes. I want you to stay but... It's too early for anything else but sleeping in the same bed, Mark.

M: I'm tired of sleeping alone, Jennifer.

J: So am I. I'm in bed now. It's a queen but it feels empty. It didn't feel like that until I met you.

M: I'll pick you up at 9am. I'm taking you for breakfast first before we go to the beach.

J: What's your favourite colour?

M: Usually blue. On a woman, either black or red.

J: I have the perfect bikini for you then. See you in the morning, Mark.

M: Sweet dreams, beautiful.

Her last message was a love heart.

Pulling up outside her apartment complex the next morning, she buzzed me up, knocking on her door and hearing her call me inside. I was wearing a rather tight t-shirt and shorts. How she didn't see my erection when she walked out in her red bikini, I'm fairly sure she did. Hands on her hips, she smiled at me. "What do you think?"

"You have a broom? I'm going to need to fight all the men off."

Her smile broadened before she disappeared, returning in a t-shirt and shorts. Grabbing a bag, I placed that in the boot of my car next to mine and I drove her to a beachside café for a simple but filling breakfast. The beach was filling up by the time we were ready to take in some sun. Asking me to apply cream to her, she wasn't particularly tanned, admitting she liked being in the sun but wasn't interested in bronzed skin. She moaned more than once as I rubbed it in, enjoying the colour on her cheeks as I rubbed more onto her back.

"Jennifer, are you suggesting you enjoyed this?" I whispered into her ear.

"You've got strong hands, Mark, and it felt very nice."

She returned the favour, her soft hands moving across my back, her chin eventually resting on my chest, her breasts pressing into my back as she hugged me. I turned to kiss her, and she rather quickly ended up lying underneath me. I eventually broke the kiss as there were families around us, resting on my own towel as she resumed lying on her front. Her eyes were covered by sunglasses but there was no missing her smile.

We spent all day at the beach, running down to the water a couple of times. Wrapping her legs around me again, we made out again and she wouldn't have missed the fact I was hard as steel, enjoying the gasp she made when she rubbed herself against it. Biting her bottom lip, she kissed me again, my cock throbbing when she released a whimper I recognised. She was horny and needed something more.

Thankfully, she gave me time to recover so my erection disappeared before we stepped out of the water. Applying more cream, we hung around until later afternoon as the sun slowly started to set, putting on our t-shirts as the weather cooled. Packing up and taking her hand, she snuggled into my side as we walked back to my car. Pulling up outside her apartment, I helped carry her bag upstairs.

"Would you like to stay for a drink?"

"I'd love to but, if I do, I won't want to leave."

She walked towards me and kissed me. "Go home and get a change of clothes," she whispered, "Come back for a drink and stay the night."

I'm fairly sure I broke a dozen traffic laws as I drove home, raced inside and dumped my stuff, quickly packed a bag, grabbed any essentials, and raced back to her place. When I knocked on the door, out of breath, she opened it and laughed at me as I was busy catching my breath. Grabbing the front of my t-shirt, she dragged me inside, kicked the door shut, then pushed me back onto the couch.