The End of Something

My show of "good-faith" hooked him. He did everything but flop around on the deck after being boated. He leaned toward me and said questioningly, "So none of what I tell you will EVER see the light of day."

I put on my most sincere face and said, "I promise on my word as a private investigator. I have a reputation to maintain."

As you might expect, whatever he told me was going to be sent to every contact I had just Bluesnarfed off his phone - including his mother and his Priest. I wasn't really a private investigator, had no reputation, and Wild Bill Donovan died in 1959.

GOD! People are way too stupid about modern technology. Even varmint lawyers.

He looked conspiratorial as he said, "Do you know when it started?"

That was easy enough to dodge, since it didn't matter when it began. I said, "I started recording you two months ago."

He grinned like he had put something over on me. He said, "I fucked that hot little piece of ass at least once a week from the beginning of March." Given when the nocturnal call came in that would have meant that the affair lasted five weeks.

I looked bored. That was an act. Inside, I was seething. But I wanted the whole story.

I said, "How did it start. Her Firm can't figure that out."

He said, "Well, you know that I was doing the legal advising on a big federal bid. It was way too much of a hassle to travel between our office near the National Gallery and hers on Connecticut. So we split the difference and my Firm got all of us a suite at the Willard.

He shook his head and said, "I wanted her the minute I saw her. Man! She was so hot! And with those legs and that butt I was walking around with a hard-on most of the time we were together."

He looked off into the distance like he was visualizing Sasha's apple shaped butt. Then he said, "She and her team would work there all day. And once in a while she and I would be the only ones left. She was always super-businesslike. But I knew she wanted me."

I said, "Mrs. Schneider was married. Didn't that matter to you?"

He leaned in to me with a nauseating smirk on his face and said, "Are you really LOOKING at me, man!!? I'm the alpha dog. Women can't help themselves. And I don't blame them. That's how it's always been with me."

He said with smugness just radiating off him, "When I want a woman - I cut her out and fuck her. It's what alpha-males do. If she's married that makes her surrender even more satisfying. Getting them to fuck around on their husband just proves how special I am. Hell!! I've probably fucked fifty married women in my time. It's like a hobby."

My hands clenched under the table but I kept my cool and plastered an attentive look on my face. I couldn't decide whether this guy was a certified sociopath or just the world's most conceited prick. He was counting on his married victim's shame and regret to hide his crimes.

Either way - I had to hang in there. I wanted the whole story.

The douchebag leaned in even closer. The look on his face told me he was savoring what came next, "So anyhow, one night after hours it was just her and me. She was wandering around the room picking up stuff like she was getting ready for tomorrow. But she was so hot for it I could smell her arousal and I made my move.

He smiled and said, "I grabbed her and kissed her. She struggled but I kept kissing her and working on her nipple. It felt like a gumdrop, even under her bra. And eventually her mouth opened and she started moaning. It was pure lust. That's when I knew I had her. And from that point on she was fucking me, not the other way around."

Unfortunately, I had been on the receiving end when Sasha's buttons get pushed. And I knew he was telling the truth.

He was in full nostalgia mode now, "We did it right there on the floor of the suite. It was probably the most intense half hour I have ever spent with a woman. And I wanted her again. But she was all wracked by guilt. You know how they get when they give it up for the first time."

That was an important point and I jumped on it. I said with cynicism in my voice, "Are you trying to tell me that this was her first time cheating?"

He said with treehouse camaraderie, "I know, I've fucked them all and it surprised me too. You would think that a woman that hot would stray all the time. But I know women. And she was a cherry."

He smiled scornfully and said, "She said she was never going to do it again."

Then he got a triumphant leer on his face, "That was a challenge if I ever heard one. The alpha-dog is done with the lady when HE decides that he's done with her - not the other way around."

He chuckled arrogantly and said, "I knew that she wanted me. I just had to engineer the right situation. So - a week later I caught her by herself again. And she put up the same fight."

Then he turned thoughtful - like he was having a significant memory, "When she finally DID give it up she was insatiable. I ate her to a bunch of orgasms. Then I fucked her, she blew me, and I fucked her again. That went on for hours I don't think we got out of there until midnight."

I actually remembered the date. It was almost exactly eight weeks ago. Sasha had never been that late before. I was more-or-less asleep when she came in but I knew it was around 1:00 AM. She said it was a pressing deadline.

He said with a leer, "We did it two more times after that. I didn't even have to arrange anything. I'd just call her up and she'd meet me at the Willard. The project was over but I still kept the suite. Those sessions were strictly nooners. They were never as long or intense as that second time. But she is still by far the best fuck I have ever had."

He looked a little regretful and said, "Then out of the blue she just ended it. She asked me to meet her for lunch. I thought that was her code word for getting fucked. But she actually meant LUNCH - at Circa's."

That must have been what I had witnessed outside her building.

He added, "It was the usual bullshit. She told me that she had made a huge mistake and that we would never see each other again blah-blah-blah. I have heard that a lot and they always come back wanting more. But this one was serious. I called her a bunch of times to renew old acquaintances and she kept telling me to fuck myself"

He put on a crooked smile and said, "I have never met a bigger psycho. She acts like my personal whore for a solid month and then she never wants to see me again. If she wasn't such an excellent piece of ass I would almost feel used."

I had to get out of there or I was going to kill him. And regrettably there were too many witnesses.

So I gave him my sincerest look and said, "Well, that completes my investigation. I don't want to take up any more of your time. Never fear Mr. O'Leary, you will get something for your cooperation and of course the drinks are on me."

And he WOULD be repaid with interest. The confession that I had just conned out of this dumb shit would be winging its way to the Bar Association, the Partners in his firm, and his wife by tomorrow. He would DEFINITELY get what was coming to him.

Now - all that I had to do was settle-up the account with Sasha.

I rose, shook his hand and walked out into a DC sunset. It was a good thing that I drove. The stop and go of DC traffic forced me to slow down and think. And I got back to my rational, un-emotional self before I got home. Otherwise I would have probably killed her too.

I knew that Sasha and I were done. If it had just been the first time I would have gotten past it. I know how hot blooded she is. But the second time was the killer.

It was clear that she had made a conscious decision to abandon herself to him. And it was that gift of her fiery soul that I could not forgive. Fucking him a couple of times afterward just amounted to strong aftershocks. The real cataclysm had already occurred and there was nothing left of the structure of our marriage.

Sure - she had ended it. And sure she had regretted it. And she would probably never stray again. And she was going to try to make it up to me. And from now on my married life would be superb. But the special bond that we had was gone forever. And there was no getting it back.

I was absolutely, crushingly alone in a City of 600,000 souls.

The only question was how I was going to implement the separation. I wasn't going to divorce her. It wasn't because I was planning to reconcile. It was just that I no longer gave a shit. For 12 years I had been living my life for her, and for us. Now I was going to live it strictly for me.

Just walking away made a lot of sense. I was never going to trust one of those deceitful creatures again. So there was no need for the legal formalities. I was done with women. I did not need to compound my misery by waiting around for a messy divorce.

I had to adopt some basic financial precautions. But I planned to take as little out of the marriage as I could. I still loved the bitch. She was the only woman in the world for me. And I wanted her to be as secure as I could leave her.

It was just that we could no longer go through life together. So I was going to ease on down the road as soon as possible and with the minimum amount of fuss and muss.

I was calm enough by the time I got home that I was able to do a decent job of acting. I needed to establish a DMZ between the emotional onslaught that I had just endured with Fuckface and what I KNEW I would have to go through with Sasha. So I put my feelings in a box for the night and we just spent a basic evening at home.

We were even able to banter like we always did. She wanted sex. But I told her I had an early day tomorrow. She was disappointed but didn't press the issue. I was going to miss her intelligence, humor and feisty spirit. Not to mention her beauty, grace and fundamental good-heart.

I got out of the place just after sun-up. She was not even awake. I had not slept a wink all night. Instead I lay there staring at the ceiling and charting my exit strategy. I grabbed a little breakfast at the Starbucks over on M. Then I walked to the University.

My Chair gets in early and I wanted to talk with him. Del is a decent guy and I had to give him a heads-up. I had made up my mind that I was going to take an extended leave of absence. I wasn't due back at work until the fall anyhow. So he had a summer to replace me.

He was sipping his first cup of coffee when I appeared in his office. We have a cordial work relationship and he seemed delighted to see me. He said, "Jake, I thought that you academics didn't do mornings?"

I said, "I got up early because I have had some decisions to make. And one of them is that I plan to take the Visiting position that we have talked about. It's a good career move but it means that I will need a leave of absence. And there is a good chance that I won't be coming back."

THAT pronouncement raised his eyebrows around his hairline. He said, "Are you and Sasha moving to England?"

I said, "I am. Sasha's staying here. We're separating."

If anything his eyebrows inched higher. He said totally flabbergasted, "But you two are perfect for each other and she loves you to death!!"

I said, "Used to love me. She has other distractions now. I don't want to get into it."

He put his coffee down and said sincerely, "I'll support you in any way I can but I still can't believe that you and Sasha are splitting up."

I said, "I have a taped confession that would remove any doubt. But that is between her and me. Can I count on you to help out if she needs it? I still love her and I don't want anything bad to happen to her."

He said, "Certainly - and is there a chance that you two would ever get back together?"

I said, "Probably not in this lifetime. But I also didn't think that I would be having this conversation with you - so who knows?"

I added, "I am hoping that if I get far enough away for a long enough time that I might be able to forgive her. But I will never forget. And that's the problem."

I stood and offered him my hand. I said, "You've been a good friend Del. I won't lose track of that."

The rest of the day was spent making the pre-launch arrangements. I put together a short edited version of the asshole's video - just in case I needed a visual aid. I couldn't sit through the whole thing again.

I also confirmed my arrival at Oxford. They had offered rooms at Keble as part of the incentive package. It was convenient to the OCL. And as far as I was concerned it was ideal.

Keble isn't one of those medieval piles of marble downtown. It was built in 1870. But notwithstanding the niceties of Victorian plumbing it was just a roof over my head. I planned on throwing myself into my work.

I took some time to compose a set of messages that would surgically remove Mr. Tom O'Leary's gonads. The air strike had to be precise because I wanted none of it coming back on Sasha.

Besides sounding incredibly self-serving O'Leary's confession was a violation of professional ethics that was a one-way ticket out of the practice of law. I did everything but chuckle and stroke a white Persian cat as I sent THAT ONE off to the Maryland Bar.

I reinforced my displeasure by sending a message about alienation of affection to the Partners of his Firm. There is nothing to get the pot boiling, like threatening a pack of professional blood suckers with a dose of their own medicine.

The video file that accompanied it was intended to be the final nail in O'Leary's coffin. My guess was that he would be gone in a day.

I had packed a sailor's bag. It was all I was going to take out of my former life. It was sitting by the door when Sasha breezed in from work. Her face lit up when she saw me and she bustled over, threw her arms around me and gave me a big wet kiss.

She almost immediately noticed that I was not returning her affection. She stepped back and with a merry look on her face she said, "What's the matter Mister Grouchy?"

I gestured to the dining room table and said as kindly as I could, "Sit down Sasha. We need to talk."

She looked more puzzled than worried and sat.

I sat down opposite her, took both of her hands lovingly in mine. The regret was almost killing me. And I think that came through in my manner.

She said with concern in her voice, "Jake what's wrong?"

I said, "I had a long talk with a lawyer yesterday."

Then I hesitated.

She gave me an "Annnnnnd" gesture.

I couldn't put it off any longer. It was time to go the rest of the way across my personal Rubicon. I said, "His name is Tom O'Leary. I believe you know him."

There was a second when it seemed like she was searching her memory banks. Then I could see the whole horrible reality hit her. Her beautiful face went totally white. She gasped, snatched her hands away from me and put them over her eyes. It was like she was trying to shield herself from what she knew was coming.

She is a very tough minded woman so there were no hysterics. She started a keening wail, "No-no-no!! This isn't happening!!"

Then she stopped completely and focused those huge intelligent cat eyes on me. She said, "Jake, you have to let me explain."

I said, "That's why I'm sitting here. I already have his version. It is right there on that tablet. He seems to think that you are the best piece of ass he's ever fucked. And he says he's fucked them all.

That hit home. I could see her tear up but she was still holding it together - barely.

She said with fierce sincerity, "I will tell you everything that you want to know. I won't hold anything back. I love you Jake and I can't lose you."

I cocked my head skeptically and said, "A little too late for honesty now. But I still need to know why? I told you a dozen years ago that I knew you would eventually try to trade up. I just guess I should be happy for the years that you gave me."

THAT got to her. She dropped her head down on her arms. And she wept like her heart was breaking.

She mumbled into the table, "That's not the way this was. I love you with all my heart Jake. Those twelve years have been the best in my life."

She looked at me with pain in her eyes and said, "I never meant to hurt you. I broke it off three weeks ago. And I have been trying my best to make it up to you - it was nothing, and he is nobody to me."

She stopped and sobbed some more. Then she sat up straight and began to dab at her overflowing eyes. Sasha might be a cheating slut but she is also a warrior and she was ready to do battle with all that she had.

I said, "Start at the beginning. I have the complete story from O'Leary. The stupid fucker thought that I was investigating YOU for your Firm. He told me everything just to keep the heat off of him."

She looked disgusted and said, "I don't know what possessed me getting involved with that rat-bastard. He is a master seducer - all of that focused attention and little touches like you are the most important person in the world to him."

She composed herself for a second. Then she said, "I was with him eight to ten hours a day for the entire month of February. It was in a suite that we were using as a command center for a proposal we were working on."

She looked pained and said, "He was never overt about the seduction. That would have gotten my defenses up. But he was subtly wearing away at me. Until he had me wondering what sex with him would be like? I have to admit that I was always a little aroused when he was around me. But I was light years away from doing anything about it. Most women have those thoughts and never act on them. I'm sure you men do too."

She looked questioningly at me - her astute ice blue eyes shrouded. I nodded in confirmation.

She continued, "Then he jumped me one night when we were working late. We were the only people in the suite. And he wouldn't stop kissing and groping me."

She actually looked embarrassed as she added, "You know how easy it is to turn me on. You've been doing that for a dozen years. It was a totally unexpected assault. So perhaps you can understand how I got hopelessly over the line before my rational mind kicked in.

It was very short and intense and I would be lying to you if I told you that I didn't enjoy it. It was no more stimulating than the sex I have four or five times a week with you. But it was just different."

She looked regretful and added, "The guilt nearly killed me. And I resolved never to do it again. But the sun came up the next morning and nothing really changed. So when he got me in the same situation a couple of weeks later I just thought, I was already a cheat. So one last time wouldn't hurt. And I didn't resist much."

She gave me a deeply remorseful look and said, "What I had underestimated was how much the illicitness of the first time had turned me on. And I lost myself in the same way that I do with you. I don't really know how many times we did it that night but I just kept cumming and cumming. It was hours."

That statement nearly killed me. I wanted to get up and leave but she was in full confession mode now. She said, "I was a wreck when I got home because I was sure that you would sense it this time. But our life went on exactly as it had before."

I shook my head with ironic regret, "Clueless!!"

She added, "The fact was that I was truly done with him at that point. I had experienced one extra-marital fling and I had escaped unscathed. But my marriage - and you - are the centerpiece of my life. And I was terrified that I might lose you."

You could see the self-loathing as she added, "But he was relentless. He kept working on me - begging for just one more time. In my own mind I had already committed the unpardonable sin. So what difference would one more time make. I finally gave in to him and agreed to meet. The third time was nowhere near as remarkable as the first two.