What Did I Do that was Wrong? 04

"I'm taking you off game-playing now: make love however you want, whenever you want. Try an occasional "Mark's in charge" day or "Leanne's in charge" day, if you feel like it. Pull out the Kama Sutra book and find a new position, if you feel like it; etc. As long as sex is fun and the feelings are good, you can do it on a trapeze or the same old familiar way in your bed."

They nodded, still smiling, but I could sense the tension return. They both knew what was coming.

"Mark," I said, "you have some questions for Leanne—about her encounters with other men. Why don't you go ahead and ask them?"

A brief silence. He looked serious; she just looked scared.

"Baby," he said, "I thought before we started coming to Tom that the best thing would just be, you know, not to think about any of this, just push it out of my mind. But that clearly wasn't working.

"So Tom and I have talked about the fact that if I know the truth, I can deal with it—instead of having to fight the pictures in my head.

"Is that okay with you?"

She nodded tensely. "Yes, Mark. Whatever will help us move forward, I'm willing to do."

"Besides Theo," he said, "how many times did you ... have sex with somebody else at our house?"

Leanne relaxed a tiny bit. This was an easy one. "Just once. A long time ago, a couple of years at least. It was in the backyard, like with Theo, one afternoon when you were away at that conference in Seattle."

"Okay. Um, you said that you'd been with Theo a few times before the day at our house, right?"

She nodded.

"How often in general did you ... have sex with the same guy?"

"Most of the time it was just once. Once in a while, but not too often, I saw a guy two or three times. But never more than four or five."

"So there was never anything ongoing, or anything that got to be more than ... than casual fucking?" This question mattered a lot to Mark—I could see it from his attempt to look relaxed and casual as he asked.

"No, baby. For me it was about no-strings sex. Sometimes I could tell that a guy was interested in more than that, and I just stopped seeing him.

"They never called me, Mark—I always called them. No one ever had my number, or knew where I lived. And the only guys I saw more than once were ones who had the same attitude I did—this is for fun, and nothing more."

"So there were a ... few guys you saw four or five times, like Theo, but never more than that?"

"Maybe half a dozen I saw five times, I don't know for sure. But never anyone more than that.

"This wasn't about love, or love-making, honey!" She suddenly looked worried, and she clasped Mark's hand tightly. "It was about excitement—about feeling attractive. About staving off feelings I didn't even know I had."

"Okay, Leanne—can we talk about that? Can you ... can you try to help me understand WHY you needed to do this so much? What were the feelings you were staving off?"

I was watching quietly from behind the desk. Mark looked serious but in control—he seemed to be managing to listen carefully without being emotionally overwhelmed.

"You ... you know what my father is like? Well, I never felt sure of his love, never felt I could hold his attention for more than a few minutes. One-night stands were safe—I wasn't risking anything. I was getting a shot of reassurance, you know, almost like a stiff drink: a belt of 'I'm attractive, I'm sexy, men are turned on by me'.

"And because there was no follow-up, no lasting connection, I could never feel hurt, like I did so often by my father, when his interest in me didn't last. I was the one in control, never the one being let down."

"And you don't think you need that any more?" Mark asked quietly.

Leanne glanced at me and smiled. "When I met you, Mark, I was still finding it hard to believe that anyone I cared for could really love me—you know, in a lasting way. And these quickie ... these ... one-night stands kept me from ever being dumped, the way I always feared I would be.

"But you LOVE me." She gave him a dazzling, loving smile. "You've made me believe, after all these years, that somebody wonderful could love me, and not lose interest or just drop me.

"And working with Tom has helped me really believe that, and really trust in your love. So of course I'm still a little afraid of being hurt—but not so much anymore, not so much that I need to fortify myself with meaningless sex.

"I really don't miss it, you know? I've been telling Tom—even when you'd left and I was so scared you were gone for good, I didn't want to go out and pick somebody up. I just wanted you back."

She looked at him. "You're the only one, Mark."

Wow, I thought. She'd answered his questions beautifully—truthfully, but also lovingly. I hoped it would be enough, but we weren't finished yet.

Mark was smiling at her. "Thank you, honey," he said. It was a nice moment; but then it ended, and Mark's face tightened again. He looked away.

"How many?" It was quiet, but almost like a growl. Then he looked at Leanne again, gazing intently at her.

"How many men were there, Leanne?"

"I don't know, Mark. Some months there were one or two—or none. There were certainly months when I didn't ... when I wasn't with anybody else.

"And then ... sometimes it was more often. I guess a few times a couple in the same week."

"Did it have to do with how we were doing ... you know, in bed?"

"I don't think so," she said. "It was more a matter of chance—did I meet someone. And how busy you and I were generally, was I swamped with real estate business, were you away, like in Milwaukee, or around a lot.

"When we had lots of time together, like on vacation or over the holidays, there was never anybody. Because all I wanted was to be with you.

"It only came into my mind when I was by myself."

There was a silence; and then, before he spoke again, Leanne continued.

"Actually, you know ... I think that sometimes my one-night stands sometimes happened right after I'd had to deal with my father. A phone call, or sometimes after he and my mom had visited, or we'd gone to see them.

"It seems like several times I went out and ... picked someone up in the next day or two. I don't think I realized that before. I guess talking to Tom about it, you know, about my father, made me see the connection."

He nodded, thinking. "So—how many, all together, do you think?"

"Since we've been married?"

"Yes," he replied.

I'd warned Leanne not to say, "oh I don't know, Mark"; or "does it really matter?" Because it DID matter to him, intensely.

"Probably about twice a month, on average," she said. "Maybe a little more."

We were silent, and I watched Mark do the math. It was about a hundred, over four years—perhaps 125, depending on what "a little more" meant.

"Is that men, or—or times having sex?" he asked.

"Times having sex. The number of men is less."

There was a heavy silence, which I broke by asking my own question.

"Mark, in the four years of your marriage to Leanne, how often do you think you and she have made love?"

He looked surprised. "Jeez, I don't—I guess, well, at least three times a week on average.

"There are weeks it's less than that, but then again on vacations it's at least once a day, so it averages out. I guess I'd say three times a week."

Leanne was nodding in agreement.

"So, then, just to put it in perspective," I said, "you guys have made love together maybe 630 times or so." I watched Mark's face as that number sank in.

You can say to yourself, "what difference do numbers make?" But to many people (at least many men) they make a lot of difference, whether that's logical or not. For Mark, I hoped it would matter that he and Leanne had made love six times as much as she had been with other people.

It was a bad place to end a session; however, it couldn't be helped. We were out of time and another patient was waiting. But at least I'd managed to remind Mark that 600 was a lot more than 100. Even so, things were tense between him and Leanne as they left my office.

****************

When I next saw Mark, alone, I could tell that he was troubled. Tense and probably angry. I'd barely said "hello" when he burst out, "100 times! Maybe more, maybe 150! Jesus Christ!"

"Okay," I said. "Numbers are obviously on your mind, so let's talk about numbers. How many men was it, Mark, do you think?"

He looked at me, his anger interrupted a moment by surprise, and I said coolly, "oh, you haven't done the math? Well, follow along with me.

"Leanne said 'twice a month, or a bit more'. There are 48 months in four years, so let's call it 100 times, or maybe 125 tops. Now, she said there were perhaps half a dozen men she saw five times—that's 30, leaving 95. Of the rest, she said 'once in a while' she saw a guy more than once, perhaps two or three times.

"If 'once in a while' means, say, one out of every three, then one-third of the guys she saw two or three times—call it 2.5 on average—and the other two-thirds just once. How's your algebra, Mark? You're an engineer, after all. 2x/3 + 2.5(x/3) = 95.

"So 4.5x/3=95, meaning 1.5x=95.

"I get x = 63. Plus the original 6 makes 69 men. How's that, Mark, the number 69 seem fitting somehow?"

I was speaking coldly, even a bit harshly, and Mark was clearly baffled by my tone. He followed the math, though, and nodded his head.

"Yeah, okay, 69 guys."

Not giving him time to say, "and that's disgusting," or "see what a whore Leanne was," I pressed on.

"Mark, how many women did you have sex with in the years between your divorce and when you met Leanne?"

He looked even more baffled. "I ... don't know—a hundred, maybe? Probably at least eighty. But Tom, that was in the past!"

"And this isn't? Leanne hasn't been with anyone else since the day you saw her with Theo—that's several months ago now. So tell, me why exactly are her 69 worse than your 80?"

He looked even more perplexed, then triumphant. "Because ... because I wasn't with her then. We weren't married, dammit!"

"And hadn't you okayed this? Hadn't you specifically told her it was all right with you? For Christ's sake, Mark, it's time to be a man!"

Now he was truly shocked. I think he was too surprised even to be offended, though he probably had a right to be.

"Just answer me some questions, okay? Easy ones, all yes or no."

He nodded, and I fired them at him one after the other, barely giving him time to reply before I went on.

"Do you love Leanne?" "Yes."

"Is she still the woman you want to spend your life with?" "Yes."

"Do you believe she loves you?" "Yes."

"Do you think she's ever cheated on you?" "No."

"Do you believe that she'll keep her word and give up other men for good?" "Yes."

"Has she ever done anything to make you think that sex with any of these other men was better, or more important to her, than sex with you?" "No."

"Has she ever given you the slightest indication of being less than happy with your sex life together?" "No."

"In fact, doesn't she make it very clear how much she enjoys making love with you?" "Yes."

I sat back, and let silence fill the room for a few moments.

"Bottom line, Mark. You love Leanne, and she obviously adores you. She had sex with other guys; you had sex with other women. You've given it up; she's given it up.

"The love between you is rock-solid, and the sex lately seems to have been going great.

"So it's time to suck it up; it's time to get over yourself, be a man, and go back to your wife. Fully—completely—in every way. Time to drown her in your affection, let her know every minute of the day what she means to you. Time to show her she's the most important thing in your life."

I softened my voice a little. "This doesn't mean you're never entitled to feel hurt or insecure. It doesn't mean you can't ask for reassurance. I imagine you'll want to talk more with Leanne about her encounters, and it will take a while before they really don't matter to you anymore.

"That's all okay. Ask her, and let her reassure you. Let her tell you ten times, a thousand times, that she's done with all that and that you're all she needs. Because it's true."

****************

I saw Leanne alone just once more after that, and the two of them together for about eight more sessions, gradually spreading them out to just once a month. In my session with Leanne I told her I'd hit Mark pretty hard, but that I thought he was ready for it.

"He trusts me, and I think my words will stay with him. I'm pretty confident your husband is going to be loving and affectionate for quite awhile."

She grinned at me. "That doesn't sound too bad!"

"Just be ready to reassure him," I said. "He's not done feeling insecure and hurt. The feelings may come up at odd times; he may want to ask you about it, or just get kind of snarky and make cutting remarks about you and other guys.

"You've got to be patient and loving. Let him know you understand that it takes time, but that what's past is past. If he has questions, even if he asks the same questions again and again, try to be patient with him. And if he gets nasty and hurts your feelings, call him on it! Make him remember that you're just as entitled to trust and love and respect as he is."

We talked for the rest of the session about how things might go, and how she could handle them. At the end she said, "I really want to give you a hug, Tom—I'm so incredibly grateful to you for what you've done for us!

"But somehow that feels a little ... I don't know, like not quite the right thing to do, with the two of us alone in this office."

I nodded and said, "I know just what you mean, Leanne. But I appreciate the sentiment."

****************

The eight more sessions with Mark and Leanne together were really just precautionary—for me to smooth out the bumps if there were any. Occasionally they'd come in and talk about a testy conversation they'd had during the previous week, or about a moment when insecure feelings had arisen to trouble Mark.

There was one session when Leanne was really down, feeling that Mark was unconsciously poking at her about the other men, making indirect, catty remarks. He was stunned to hear that she was feeling that way, and apologized on the spot.

But there were some great moments too, including two stories that gave me a lot of hope for them.

In the third session Mark said, "something happened two nights ago that I wouldn't have understood before—before we started seeing you.

"I was working in my office after dinner, and I could hear Leanne on the phone in the other room—I figured she was talking to her parents.

"And then after a while she came to the doorway and just looked at me, waiting. And when I turned around, I could see she'd been crying. And she said, 'Mark, I'm sorry to bother you when you're working, but ... do you think you could ... come and fuck my brains out? And then just hold me, and kiss my hair and tell me you love me?'

"So of course I went to her, and gave her a big kiss, and took her off to the bedroom and did just as she asked. Not exactly a tough assignment for me!"

He grinned, and Leanne jumped in to pick up the story.

"He was wonderful, Tom. He made love to me so fiercely, it was so exciting. And then he held me, and I cried in his arms for a while. And then we made love again, gently, me still crying a little, him whispering to me how he loved me, how beautiful I was."

Mark said, "I could see that talking to her parents had upset her—probably her father, who I have to say is one cold bastard."

"And it felt so great what happened, Tom! I was hurt and upset, but I didn't have the slightest desire to go out and pick up some guy—all I wanted was Mark, and his love and reassurance, and he was there for me so perfectly! It was one of the nicest things that's ever happened to me."

A couple of weeks later Leanne had a story to tell, about a surprise suggestion from Mark.

"Last Saturday, when the weather was really warm, Mark made us some lunch and suggested we eat outside by the pool. We'd sort of both been avoiding it, like that part of the yard was still radioactive, I guess. But we had our picnic and lay in the sun for a while, just dozing.

"And then he came over and starting kissing me, very gently at first, and we started necking, and in a few minutes he had my bathing suit off and had me down on the air mattress, you know, the one where ... where he saw me with Theo.

"So I was really worried about what would happen—but Mark just smiled at me and said, 'maybe it's time to reclaim this part of the house for you and me'.

"And we made love, slowly and lovingly. I knew that Mark was trying to make it like the way he'd seen me with Theo—but it didn't seem to be bothering him. And I started to cry a little while we were doing it, and say 'I'm so sorry!' And he just kissed me and told me he loved me, and we went right on with what we were doing."

Mark said, "I was a little nervous about what would happen—but part of me felt like, 'dammit, I want my pool back! and my back yard, and my air mattress!' We've always loved having sex out there, and I wasn't willing to give that up. And once we got started it was fine. Sexy and slow and loving, and Theo wasn't there any more, it was just Leanne and me."

She got out of her chair, came and sat on Mark's lap, and gave him a big kiss. And then she giggled, and they both looked at me a little embarrassed, while I just smiled back.

****************

By the eighth session, Leanne and Mark were doing very well, and we'd pretty much run out of things to say—it was clearly time to stop. When we got together for the last time I gave them the usual spiel about coming back to see me any time, that it was very common for couples to return for a "refresher" if they felt it would be helpful.

I did get that hug from Leanne, and a kiss on the cheek, and then a firm handshake from Mark.

They both thanked me very sincerely, and when I said, "it's been a pleasure, and I'm happy it's worked out so well," I meant it.