The Way It Is

Derwin sputtered as if he wanted to say something but couldn't spit it out, so Marissa went on. "I not only love him, I am in love with him," she announced, somewhat histrionically. "And, that's the way it's going to be--from now on. While I may still love you--and our shared history--I am no longer in love with you." She stopped again, this time giving him time to process, before concluding, "That's just the way it is."

Of course, Marissa knew, deep down, that even if he was not a candidate for 'life-partner', as a boy-toy, for the present, Valasi would do just fine! She wasn't sure exactly what it was, but there certainly seemed to be something much more than simple infatuation. Issa was unaware of it, but Valasi had been thinking the very same thing.

After a lengthy spell of quiet contemplation, completely ignoring Valasi, the young employee / rival, Derwin looked his wife in the eye--something he didn't often do--and threw back her exact words. "So, that's the way it's going to be?" Derwin asked rhetorically. "Don't I get a say in it? What if I don't agree?"

"That's the way it is," his wife replied, calmly but unequivocally. "Now, please leave us to get up and decent." Marissa turned back to Valasi, still lying on the bed next to her. "We'll talk later," she tossed over her shoulder, basically dismissing her long-time husband.

Later that evening, when they spoke again, just the two of them, Derwin tried to get Marissa to reconsider. And she did to some degree. "I'm willing to remain your 'loving' wife in most aspects of our lives--but not sexually." On that point she was intransigent--she refused to give up such superior sex as she got from Valasi. Marissa had already, for all intents and purposes, given up sex with Sam--"Well, not entirely," she thought in a secret, silent admission. "Sometimes, when Valasi's out on the estate, and Sam is available...!" (Though, Sam had enough on his hands, anyway, what with Edna and Livvy of the housekeeping staff.) Valasi, for his part, respected and, even sympathized with Derwin and his dilemma, hence, he avoided contact with his lover's husband, as far as possible.

Surprisingly, after announcing that she would no longer provide her husband with sex, Marissa continued. "...and even there, I can be of some assistance. Whenever you feel the need, I can help you secure the services of a..."

"A prostitute? You're going to pimp some whore for me?"

"I was thinking more of hiring a call girl for you. More classy."

"More expensive."

"But, better skilled-- more experienced, I should think."

Derwin reluctantly accepted, this paradigm shift in their relationship, and, at first they were able to maintain the status quo, in the tattered remains of their marriage; however, eventually, he couldn't take it any more--the loud, vocal, indiscreet fucking sounds emanating, at all hours, generally from the room that used to be his bedroom, with no consideration of him nor his sensibilities. Thoroughly disillusioned, Derwin eventually walked out. However, the house--the whole estate--and most of their wealth remained Marissa's, as per their pre-nup.

In the social miasma that she had fomented, Marissa finally came to the inescapable realization that she, formerly Mrs Derwin Phelps, had completely degenerated from Marissa Conway, a successful, powerful, ruthless business exec to Issa, a hopelessly addicted Big Brown Samoan Cock junkie.

So it goes.