The End of Something

And in that respect, I required punishment. Degradation is a logical result of losing your soul and I was right there on the brink. So sneaking off and fucking the asshole was just my way of debasing myself. I was soiled goods. And that was what I deserved. I hated myself and I hated him.

Nevertheless, I can't honestly justify my actions strictly based on self-destructive urges. The sex was awesome. It wasn't the man. He was a dud. But the sheer wickedness of what I was doing brought out powerful new feelings. The risk taking was deliciously naughty. And because I now viewed myself as nothing better than a slut, the interludes that I spent with him were exciting in an oddly debauched kind of way.

And for a while the sheer weight of those feelings hid reality from me. Then one day I simply woke up. It didn't happen over a long period of time. It came to me in a blinding flash of insight. I had the world's most perfect man. He satisfied me in every way. And I was risking all of that to have secret sex with a low-life scumbag lawyer who was also a mediocre fuck. Unbelievable!!?

It was like coming out of bad dream. Except I knew that it wasn't a dream and the realization of what I was doing freaked me out.

I don't think that average people start out to do really bad things. They do bad stuff because they lose their fundamental grasp of reality. For twelve years my marriage was who I was. And I lived my life grounded on that understanding.

Then, I broke the bond of exclusivity. It took a masterpiece of seduction. But nonetheless, it changed everything. My new reality was that I was corrupt. And it took a little while to come back to the realization that it didn't have to be that way.

Realizing what I had been doing caused me to take a realistic look at my situation. It didn't matter how faithful I had been up to that point, or how much I loved my husband. The fact was that I was committing an indefensible crime. One that threatened to destroy everything that I held dear. And the only person who could take back my life was me

Some of the guilt was mitigated by the fact that I was certain that I was never going to stray again. Before O'Leary slithered into our lives I had never consciously thought about the issue of my fidelity. It was just a condition that I assumed existed - and would never change. Post O'Leary my highest priority was vigilance. I was now prepared to mercilessly crush even the slightest hint of impropriety by any man.

So - why did I lie to Jake? Well, as hypocritical and self-serving as it might sound now - I felt like I was lying to protect him. The deed was already done. That was a fact. And there was no walking it back. It didn't take a genius to figure out that he would be devastated if he found out. So I tried as hard as I could to save him from the pain. I admit that I was ducking consequences as well. But realistically, those two things were too tightly bound to separate in my mind.

That probably says a lot about my morals. But the one thing that I knew for sure - even during that mixed up period was that I loved my husband. And I would sell my soul- which I probably already had - to avoid hurting him. Likewise, I knew that I could use my guilt and shame to become a better person. I just prayed that if I worked hard enough to make it up to Jake the scales would balance in the end.

I realized that the first crucial step was to get Mr Tom O'Leary permanently out of my life. And I had to do that in a way that would ensure that Jake would never find out. So I screwed up my courage, met the creep and broke it off with him. It was in a neutral place where he couldn't cause a fuss.

That act alone lifted a huge weight off of my shoulders. Nevertheless, the treacherous swine kept calling me and begging and pleading. It was a spectacularly unmanly display of sniveling. But I was adamant.

I thought that I had gotten away with it. And I was beginning to take the steps to fulfill my new destiny - which was to make Jacob Schneider the most thoroughly well-fucked husband in the history of Western Civilization. That was when it all came tumbling down on me.

I have many flaws. But the one that has caused me the most grief is the belief that I am the smartest person in the world. I had forgotten how smart Jake was. And more importantly I had lost track of what he did for a living.

So when he confronted me with his overwhelming pile of evidence all I could do was admit my abject failure as a person and acknowledge that my behavior was inexcusable. The days following his leaving were filled with agony. It was made all the worse by the realization that I deserved everything that had happened to me.

I took all of my vacation time to get myself together. I couldn't have been much use anyhow - because all I did was cry. I knew that I was on my own now. And I had to pull myself back from the brink and survive. Jake had left the door open by not divorcing me outright. So there was still hope - as faint as it was. And I was going to hold onto that possibility for dear life.

My only consolation was the phone call from O'Leary's wife. She called me all kinds of whore - which I deserved. But I DID get one tidbit from her rant. Tom O'Leary had been fired, disbarred and she was taking him to the cleaners.

I was prepared to accept my sentence. I even welcomed it as just retribution for my crime. But it was gratifying to learn that the axe had fallen in equal measure on the seducer. I thought with gloomy satisfaction, "Karma is indeed a heartless bitch - you asshole!!"

It wasn't until later that I found out how cruel it could REALLY be.

It isn't Fun Any More

I was sitting at the Turf Tavern with Britt Ashley-Barnes and her husband Jake. I was nursing a pint and admiring the Ivy on the wall of New College.

"New" is a relative term with the Brits. The College was founded right after the Black Death in 1347. A lot of priests died from that. So the Church had to build a "new" College to replenish the losses. And the name stuck.

The vast scope of British history is a little hard for Americans to get their minds around. The Turf abuts the original Oxford town wall. Its foundations are 800 years old but the building only dates back 400 years. And the Turf has witnessed a lot of Oxford history, including the 1354 riots that coined the term "town-and-gown."

Yet, from an American standpoint the Turf's most noteworthy historical occasion was that a former U.S. President purportedly didn't inhale there.

Jake Barnes and I are a lot alike. Besides the similarity in name he is an American, a GMU grad and he's as big a nerd as I am. Plus he is married to a smart, strikingly beautiful and exceptionally gifted woman just like me.

Since she hadn't sent the divorce papers I still considered Sasha to be my wife. I assumed that she was probably fucking half the power players in DC. But I really didn't know. I had not had much contact with her in the prior twenty months.

She DID send me a long email right after I left. Instead of a self-serving plea begging me to come back she sent a dignified and gracious apology for her behavior. She told me that she knew that her actions would be hard to get past. But that she hoped I could eventually find a way to let her back into my life.

And she ended by pledging that she would be my wife until death do us part - no matter what.

That was almost two years ago. Which was more-or-less an eternity given how different my present situation was from when we were married. For one thing I was totally solitary. I had nothing to look forward to except my work. And I spent ten hours a day doing it.

Research was rewarding in many ways. But sometimes the loneliness overwhelmed me. I deeply missed my best friend and life companion. I was still married to her and in my mind that meant no extra-curricular activity. So I had not had sex with anything but my right hand since Sasha and I split.

My friendship with Britt started at the OCL. My research program is in attack prediction and hers is in threat modeling so we spent a lot of time bouncing ideas off of each other.

Just like Sasha, Britt is a stunningly attractive woman. But Sasha's beauty is more like a Faberge Egg - exotic, complex, and captivating. And Sasha's impact on people is much more visceral. You can sense the power of the intense emotions that flow beneath her beautiful exterior like the mighty Volga.

Britt is different from Sasha in that she is a true English Rose. Britt's allure is like the Thames on a gorgeous English summer's day - potent, yet serene and splendidly majestic. Her lovely round face and her uncanny grey eyes radiate the dignity, grace, and exquisite charm of classic English beauties from Gainsborough down to Catherine and Diana.

You would use words like striking and compelling to describe her public persona. But in private she is the funniest and most ribald, down-to-earth person I know.

Her husband - the other Jake - is a bit of a mystery. If you met him you would assume that - like me - he was just some lucky nerd who had stumbled into marriage with a woman who was way out of his league. Except he is rich as Croesus.

He patented something that does data compression better than any other algorithm on the market and he is literally worth millions.

Of course if you knew him you would assume he WAS me - no fashion sense whatsoever and a totally unworldly attitude. We even look alike. Except he is five inches shorter.

He and Britt live up on Boars Hill with a brace of spaniels and the cutest little girl you have ever met.

Brooke is a precocious child. At age four she has the vocabulary of an Oxford undergraduate. And she really likes words. If I use a word she has never heard, I have to explain what it means, where it came from, and how to properly pronounce it.

She watches me solemnly while I do it. Taking in every nuance. My guess is that someday Lady Brooke will be working at the same institution that her mother, father and Uncle Jake work at.

I love my two friends but at the same time I am pea-green jealous of their happy, easygoing marriage and the pleasant life that they lead with their bright little girl. I had all of that - with a once in a lifetime woman - but that had ended in heartbreak - both for me, AND for her.

I was still trying to understand what I had intended to accomplish when I walked out on Sasha. She had disrespected and humiliated me by conducting a short clandestine affair. And that clearly required consequences.

If you hurt me - then I'll hurt you back. It sounds a little juvenile when you say it out loud. But that was what was going through my head when I left.

Nonetheless, if you had asked me whether I wanted to stay married to Sasha my answer would have been an unequivocal "Yes!!"

That is not as fucked-up as it sounds. Everybody carries around ambiguous feelings. And unless you are totally self-destructive you act on those feelings based strictly on which side of the equation benefits you the most.

At the time separating just seemed like the right thing to do.

Now I wasn't so sure.

If you are reasonably intelligent you understand that there is no such thing as absolute right, or absolute wrong. It is strictly in how you interpret things.

You doubt me? Pick any one of the Ten Commandments - let's say "Thou Shall not Kill."

Given that unequivocal rule... Is it moral to shoot somebody breaking into your house? Keep in mind that if you actually DO shoot the dude you are violating a Holy Commandment. There are no exculpatory clauses. It says "No killing" period!! No exceptions!!

So how do you justify your actions? Well - I'm sure that you'll find a gray area somewhere. And whatever you come up with will no doubt let you off of any moral hook.

So okay - that's the Sixth commandment. Now - Let's move on to the next Commandment. Does adultery have the same wiggle room? And if not, why not?

I had made my point about how I felt about Sasha's behavior by leaving her. My pride was intact. Score one for me. But I was also desperately lonely and unhappy now. And my odds of finding another woman to replace her were zero-and-none. Subtract one point from me.

As far as I was concerned it was not a surprise to discover that I had conflicting thoughts. Almost two years after the precipitating event I knew that I still loved my wife and I was finding it increasingly difficult to live without her.

The problem was that far too much time had passed. And she would have had far too many opportunities to build a new life with another man. Sasha is a strikingly beautiful woman. So there was no question that she would be with somebody else now. I hated that thought. But what could I do?

We make choices in the short-term that have shattering long-term impact. I probably should have either stayed and tried to fight through our problems, or outright divorced her. I should never have just skated.

I didn't feel like I wanted to stay. But I didn't initiate a divorce either. That was because I was seeking the easy way out. That turned out to be a bad choice. Since I was constantly aware of Sasha's ongoing status as my wife.

I had forgiven her ages ago. And I might have even attempted to reconcile if we were both living in DC. I never doubted Sasha's love. And I never doubted her sincere desire to atone for her sin. I knew that even before I walked out the door.

Nonetheless, I left anyway. I hear you asking why?

Well - the problem was that our marriage was no longer special because it was no longer exclusive. Everybody has the same assumptions about life. You meet the one you love. You pledge your undying loyalty and then you die in each other's arms. There is never anything in that scenario that includes another man.

And therein lies the rub.

Infidelity creates a state of uncertainty in every aspect of your married life - not just the sexual part. You ask yourself, is she comparing the time that you spent together with the time that she spent with HIM? And when you are doing things together you ask yourself, is she thinking about all of the similar times with him? Even sitting around the house, on a normal weekday evening, you're wondering whether she is yearning to be with him.

And of course every nuance of your sex life is under the microscope. Does she make the same sounds with him? Does she do the same things with him? Worse - Is she more passionate with him - more adventurous?

In the end the issue wasn't so much the fact that Sasha had fucked another man. That's purely in the physical realm. And it was of little consequence in the long-term sense. Instead it was the inescapable fact that she was willing to share her deep personal intimacies with him.

Marriage is a zero sum game. Whatever your spouse gives to another man she takes from you. Therefore, Sasha hooking up with O'Leary diminished our relationship - it made it less special. And I couldn't see any way to reinvent the unique connection that we had before she strayed. THAT was the deal breaker.

Britt is a lot more insightful than either her husband or me. So she brought me back from all of my Hamlet-like musing. She said in a plummy upper-class drawl, "You're thinking about her again aren't you Jake?" She always betrays her blue-blood origins when she is concerned.

I said, "I can't help it. It's like I've led two lives. And I am having a hard time adjusting to the new one."

The other Jake said, "Been there - done that - have the t-shirt. The killer is the sudden shift in reality. My wife arranged a trap - so I could meet her new husband-to-be. One-minute I was happily married and the next I didn't have a friend in the world. Yanking the rug out from under a person ruins their trust in everything and everybody."

He looked lovingly at Britt and said, "I was living like a feral cat until I met Britt. It is amazing what the love of a good woman can do for a man." She reached out and touched his arm in response. I felt a pang of jealousy.

I said bitterly, "I had all of that once but she threw it away."

Britt focused those intelligent grey eyes on me and said, "How did she do that? You never told us the story?"

I said, "As far as I was concerned we had a perfect marriage. We were compatible on every level and we shared everything. It was like we were one soul. Then I discovered that she had a short and very intense affair with a person she was working with. She was seduced by a master - no doubt about THAT. But I didn't have a clue through it all. It shattered my belief in myself and in life's inevitabilities."

Then I looked at her and said, "Do I have to explain that?"

She looked compassionately at me and said, "No - you don't have to explain that. You just presume that good things will happen if you do good things. That's Karma - the cosmic balancing principle. So it shakes your confidence in the fundamental assumptions of your life when a bad thing happens without any discernable reason."

Then she stopped, looked at me intently and said, "But of course if you follow the logic to its obvious conclusion something good will have to happen in order for the universe to rebalance."

I winked at her and said, "You never fail to cheer me up Britt." Then I turned to the other Jake and said, "You're a lucky man." He gave me a look of pure agreement and said humbly, "I know."

I finished my pint, put it down on the table and stood up to begin my nightly trudge down Catte Street to my rooms.

The next day was a Saturday. It didn't mean that I wasn't going into the lab but I liked to breakfast in the Dining Hall. So it was closer to ten o'clock when I was getting ready for work. One of the College Porters rapped on my door.

When I opened it he said, "There's a visitor at the Porter's Lodge, guv."

I was just finishing up so I said, "Tell him I'll be down in a second."

The Porter looked like he was going to say something. But instead he turned and headed back down the way he had come. I grabbed my laptop and hat and walked across Liddon Quad toward the Lodge.

It was a gorgeous spring day in Oxford. I could hear the little birds in the ivy energetically chasing insects the rooks were cawing and the clean smell of the grass was invigorating.

I was wondering who would be calling on me since I didn't know anybody except Jake and Britt.

I walked into the Lodge and the Head Porter nodded toward the main gate. There was a small figure standing there. It was a woman. All I could make out was a dark wool Burberry trench coat and a long braid of dirty blond hair.

It hit me like an H-Bomb. I put my hand against the wall of the passage to steady myself and said tentatively, "Sasha???!!"

She turned to face me and it was like no time had passed. Her face was a mixture of joy and terror.

I didn't know how to react so I just stood there stunned. She finally composed herself and said with a little ironic smile, "Hello Jake. I guess you're surprised to see me?"

I was still trying to get my bearings so I just stood there with my mouth working like a fish out of water. I tried to laugh suavely but it sounded more like a death rattle. I said, "That's an understatement." God she was beautiful.

She said, looking timid, "I know you don't want to talk to me but there is something that you absolutely need to know. Can you meet me at the Randolph in an hour so that we can talk about it? I'll be brief."

I was thinking, "Take a lifetime." Seeing her was like dying of thirst and coming on a cool mountain spring. I couldn't stop staring at her. She nodded, still tentative and reached over to squeeze my forearm. I could see the sadness in her eyes.

Then she turned and hurried away. My feelings were all over the place. Which, in-and-of-itself was a miracle. Since the one thing I had not been capable of over the past twenty months was feelings.