F-FRIDAY
“I’m almost ready! Gimme five!”
Didn’t I hear the exact same thing like 10 minutes ago?
Well, as far as I was concerned, it might as well have been another 2 or 3 hours, I wouldn’t have minded. I had been away on a business trip for most of the week. I had gotten back home late the night before and that day at work had been exhausting… no, wait, more like excruciating. So frankly, the perspective of going out to dinner at some friends of hers that I didn’t even know was not my first choice for that Friday evening.
“Who are they, again?” I yelled at her so that she would hear me. She was still in the upstairs bathroom while I was waiting for her in the living room.
“Anne and Carl. I mentioned her to you a few times. She’s been my teammate all semester in my MBA classes,” she replied.
My wife Sabrina and I were both in our early 30s, and we had been married just a little over 5 years. At 5’8″, one could have said she was a tall woman. Her long blond hair, her big hazel eyes and her perfectly fit body attracted quite a lot of attention. It was not to the point that I had to fend off constant male attacks, but still, I can’t remember us ever going to the shopping mall or wandering downtown without seeing heads turning at her. I guess my 6’3″ and my 250 lbs of rugby muscle acted as a good deterrent for all the hopeful wannabes.
“Ok Kurt, I’m ready!” she said, coming down the stairs. She was absolutely spectacular, a bit too much actually. Her very little black dress would cover the essential, and not much more.
“Uh… don’t you think this is a bit, how can I say… exaggerated for a dinner with people we barely know? I know you know Anne well, but you told me that you only met her husband once and you barely shook his hand.”
The real question that was thumping the back of my brain was ‘Who are you and where the hell is my wife?’
She gave me a wry smile. “Don’t you like it?”
“Yeah, sure…” I replied as casually as possible.
Sabrina had never been very flirty, let alone provocative. In social occasions, she tended to listen, to analyze, and to limit the conversation to general and superficial topics. For her to have chosen such a sexy, revealing dress to go to a dinner where there would be alcohol and the probability of more intimate conversations was most unusual.
I did not want to make a fuss of it all now, but it was unusual enough to put me on my guard.
My unease would prove… warranted.
DINNER AND… DESSERT
Carl and Anne lived in a cute little house on the other side of the city. They warmly welcomed us when we arrived. Anne’s sexy red dress perfectly echoed Sabrina’s VLBD. I could feel some stirrings in my classified region, but I was of course gentleman enough not to let anything show. We toasted to the bubble wine that I had brought. Sabrina and Anne were sitting together on one of the couches. They were deep into a conversation about how their respective companies would be opening them new doors after they got their MBA. Carl was sitting on an armchair, close to where my wife was, and I was sitting by myself on the second couch, opposite to the ladies. Carl seemed to be paying very limited attention to their conversation. I tried to initiate some discussion with him, but he would not bite. Clearly, his undivided focus was my wife’s legs, and his discretion about it would match that of a 747 taking off.
All that activity left me free to examine my hosts. Carl was an average-size man, both in height and shape. He was barely taller than my wife, and not very muscular. With his brown hair and 3-day beard, he looked ordinary. Ok, all right, I should say pleasantly ordinary. I would not have described him as a people person. I could see why he was an IT specialist: he probably had much more inclination to talking to computers than to people. Since he had yet to show me any personality apart from his drooling at feminine attributes, I was unable to say more about him.
Anne was his opposite in terms of personality. She was bubbly, cheerful, smiling, and very spontaneous. At 5’5″ and probably no more than 120 lbs, she had a fit and healthy shape. Her long, curly brown hair and her subtle freckles certainly made her a sight. She was a 9.5/10, really.
Dinner was very good. Wonderful, actually. They truly nailed it with the food and wine pairing. Anne and Sabrina once again did most of the talking, with Carl throwing in jokes or tacky puns. Well, they sounded tacky to me, but the girls seemed to revel in them. I tried to jump in the conversation on a few occasions, but I felt more or less ignored. We went back to the living room. I returned to the same spot I had on the second couch, but this time, all three others sat on the first couch, with my wife in between our two hosts. I had decided a while before to slow down on the wine, but Sabrina was still drinking with untamed enthusiasm.
It didn’t take long for the conversation to drift to more intimate topics, and I could see my wife enjoying every word of it. Carl started to compliment how both women were dressed, and made a comment that my wife was totally justified to expose her perfect legs as she was doing tonight. I seized the occasion to comment that he was right, and that Anne’s legs looked magnificent as well, but I was largely ignored. It really seemed like the three of them were in their little world.
The conversation quickly turned into open flirting between the three of them. I tried as best as I could to let them know I existed, but I barely received grunts. I was getting seriously annoyed. I left them a few minutes to pay a well needed visit to the porcelain office. When I got back to the living room, the vision I had was a total jawbreaker: Sabrina was for all intents and purposes licking Anne’s tonsils and Carl had his left hand underneath my wife’s dress and judging by her moans, it did not take an advanced degree to figure out what his fingers were doing. I was completely speechless.
Before I was even able to open my mouth and tell Sabrina that it was time to go home, Anne broke their kiss and all three stood up at once, and they made their way upstairs to their bedroom. Anne stopped at the foot of the stairway and waved at me:
“Uh… we’re going up, to the bedroom. Aren’t you coming?” She looked at me as if I were the last dumbass who had no clue what we (they) were doing. I was too shocked to reply. She just sighed and went upstairs.
I remained sitting on the couch, totally flabbergasted. Sabrina had never mentioned any interest in adding other partners to our sex life. Considering that we were generally very transparent with each other, and that there was no taboo subject between us, I felt I could legitimately pretend that she was completely satisfied with what we had. I knew a few people around me who were into swinging or group sex or swapping, and I had no prejudice against all that, but I had never given a thought to the possibility of being interested in it myself. Clearly, Sabrina was parsecs ahead of me in that thought process.
I was still in shock when I saw Sabrina coming back down the stairs. Her dress was gone, and she had put on a dressing gown.
“Sabrina, what the hell is going on?”
“Oh come on,” she replied. “Can’t you stop being Mr. Director Kurt Hollington for a little while and come up have fun? A few minutes of relaxing your tight ass won’t do you bad.”
I am not sure there is a word in the English language that could accurately describe my level of shock. I was downright numb. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing and hearing. My usually over-guarded and conventional wife was there, half naked, in front of me, insulting me and making fun of me because I was not a ready and willing participant in a sex exchange party.
I just looked at her, unable to answer. I must have looked like a dead fish stuck in the net.
“Ok Kurt, man up a bit. Are you gonna come or will I have to ask Carl to be a man for the two of you?” she added to the pile of shit that this evening was turning into.
“WHAT THE HELL IS ALL THAT CRAP???” I could finally ask, almost yelling at her.
“You only live once, baby!” she replied, cheerfully. “Come on, get up and come play with us.”
She went up the stairs and into her friend’s bedroom, without looking back. I guessed the next move was mine.
In less than two minutes, I could hear some giggling and moaning. I couldn’t tell if it was Anne or my wife. I stayed on the couch for a few minutes, until I decided that I had had enough. I quietly got up and left. I had no doubt that after such intimacy, Sabrina would be enough at ease to ask for a ride home when the semi-private display of affection would be over.
THE NEXT DAY
The first thing I realized when I woke up the next day was that Sabrina’s side of the bed was empty. A quick look around the house confirmed that she had not spent the night in the guest room or on the couch either. Clearly, she hadn’t come home the night before. My heart sank. Had she spent the night in her lovers’ arms? Was it the first time she had had sex with any of them, or both? Was she falling for Carl? Or for Anne, you never know? Was he a better lover than I was?
Despite my love for her, I had always been able to see my wife for what she was. I had always found her a bit conventional and “by the book”. She told me last night that I was inflexible and strict. If SHE found me strict, wow… it meant I had to be the most unyielding person ever. Was I?
A part of me wanted answers and wanted to find a way to patch things up and make my life normal again. But at the same time, I was terrified to face the woman who was in front of me the night before. That woman was not my wife. No, my wife would never have talked to me with such contempt.
The more I think of it now, the more I realize I should have been a bit more on the lookout. Sabrina had started her MBA two years before. That was where she had met Anne. Sabrina was usually unstoppable when talking about friends and colleagues that she liked. She talked a bit about Anne at the beginning of the program. But a few weeks after they had met, she would barely mention her. That was unusual, considering the amount of time they spent together working on joint assignments.
Clearly, there were things she did not want me to know about Anne.
And it was becoming increasingly clear that the whole thing at Anne’s the night before had been staged right up to the unusually sexy dresses that both women were wearing, and the outrageously long time it took for Sabrina to get ready. Yep, I was clearly set up, and the realization of it just made me want to puke.
It was a few minutes past noon when I finally heard the front door unlock. I was on edge, not knowing which Sabrina I would find. She calmly walked in.
“You missed a great party, Kurt.” Her voice was neutral. I could almost detect a hint of disappointment.
“I’m sure you enjoyed every minute of it” I answered, with as much sarcasm as I could put in my voice.
“Kurt, I’ll never understand men. Anne is a stunning woman, and she was more than willing to give you an evening you wouldn’t soon forget. Did you really have to be such a jerk? Do you have any idea how your childish behavior made me feel?”
Again, I was taken aback. Her shamelessness and total lack of empathy were uncanny.
I sighed, deliberately showing my disbelief of her cluelessness. I knew that I needed to be very careful with my choice of words, and that I should not raise my voice too much, or else Sabrina would just clam up and leave for the rest of the afternoon.
“Sab, did you realize that while we where having dinner, Anne and you spent the whole time chatting about your own things and making in-jokes? Oh, and yes, you would sometimes chuckle at Carl’s vapid puns and comments. But did you realize you totally ignored me anytime I would try to say something? And then you started to make out the three of you, on the couch, once again not even acknowledging my presence. How the hell can you wonder why I was not attracted to a woman who treated me like a non-person all evening?”
“So you were sulking, basically?” she sneered.
I chose to ignore the remark. “And, by the way, how long had this swinging party been planned? How many times did you have sex with them before last night? And how come you never talked to me about it? When exactly did I give you cause to think I would be ok with sharing and swapping? Bringing your supposedly significant other to a swinging thing WITHOUT even having discussed it before is a pitiful show of disrespect. When have you stopped respecting me enough to put me through that kind of shit?”
Now I was mad. I could feel my face had turned red.
“Ok, so your little ego was bruised. Do you want me to kiss it and make it all better?” she said with the voice of a mother talking to her 2-year-old baby.
I got up and went to my den. She followed, sneering.
“Ok, tell me when you’re done sulking like a toddler asked to share his toys and when you’re ready to act like an adult man.”
I shut the door.
I spent the afternoon browsing the internet about topics like wife swapping, swinging, threesomes, foursomes, and other related biblical activities. Most of what I found was porn crap, but there were interesting sites that gave explanation and guidance. Yet, I felt that the best thing would be to talk to someone who knew the drill. Fortunately, I knew some people who did. I thought of Jacob, a former colleague of mine that I used to get along with and who once told me about his and his wife’s hobby. It took a bit of digging to find his phone number. I gave him a call and after the “long time no see” and the required mundane chit chat, I finally told him the Reader’s Digest version of my predicament. We agreed to have lunch together on Monday.
When I finally emerged from my den at the end of the afternoon, I saw the note that Sabrina had left on the kitchen table: ‘Gone to my sister’s. I don’t feel like being given the silent treatment all afternoon.’
That was just good for me. I went to the nearby pub for a beer and a light dinner. Sabrina was home when I arrived around 9 PM. She was her usual self, and she did not mention anything about the night before or the fight earlier that day. I considered sleeping in the guest room, but quickly dismissed it since this would surely result in a morning argument that I was not willing to have. I waited until she was asleep before going to bed myself. Considering the very little sleep that she must have had at her friends’ the night before, it was no surprise that she turned in early.
The house chores and errands that we had to take care of on Sunday gave me a welcome break. She did not seem to want to talk, and this suited me well since I wanted to have my lunch meeting with my friend Jacob before trying to tackle the gigantic elephant in the room.
AN INTERESTING LUNCH
I left the house before Sabrina even woke up on Monday. The morning was uneventful, and left my office around 11:30 to meet with Jacob.
Jacob was a very friendly guy. One would have thought he was an alpha male, but he just had the looks. He was way too considerate to people in general to qualify as a real “alpha”. He was already at the pub when I arrived, and he greeted me with his usual warm smile.
We ordered and he quickly jumped on the main issue, asking me more details about the fateful Friday evening. So, I gave him the Reader’s Harder-to-Digest version. He listened carefully and asked many questions, particularly about Sabrina’s demeanor and attitude at every stage of the evening.
“Ok Kurt. All kinds of wrong in there. The big question is ‘where do I start…?’,” he said puzzledly, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You know, I have nothing against swinging. In fact, I have always been curious about it. But somehow, after what Sabrina did, I don’t think I am still interested,” I confessed.
“Of course you’re not! You couldn’t be! Kurt, you are right, she set you up, she cornered you. This is not the way things are done!” he said, almost disgusted.
“Kurt, before Claire and I got into the ‘lifestyle’, we had months of conversations about it. And the conversation was not initiated by one of us already having a potential sex partner in their sights. If you decide to swing, the most important person is your partner. You have to clearly understand what she wants, what she is at ease with, what her limits are. And the reciprocal is true as well, even if you are a guy.”
“What does that change that I am a guy?” I asked.
“Kurt, people tend to think that guys will automatically be interested in swinging because of the possibility for them to have sex with many women. But not every guy is ok with this, and not every guy is ok with seeing their wife having sex with someone else. What she did is contrary to the basic principles of the lifestyle. In my opinion, it was a total lack of respect and consideration.”
“Yep. I feel betrayed, tossed aside, ignored.” I was not crying, but only because I was fighting hard not to. Jacob saw it, and in a very warm but manly gesture, he put his hand on my arm and gave me a very understanding look. I was very grateful, and I asked myself at that moment how come Jacob and I had never become closer buddies.
We continued talking over lunch. When we parted, I felt things were much clearer, and I was reassured that my supposedly rigid attitude was not the cause of my present troubles. And above all, I better knew how to steer the upcoming argument with Sabrina.
ROUND TWO
Sabrina’s team meetings at the office always took place on Monday at the end of the afternoon. So, it was not unusual that she was not home when I returned that Monday. I ordered in, so that we could have some time to talk.
She was in a good mood when she got home about an hour after I did. After dinner, I asked her to join me in the living room because I wanted to talk. When she realized the conversation was to be about her new ‘hobby’, her mood flipped 180 degrees and she instantly became very defensive.
“Sab, the way I see things, what you did last Friday was bluntly cheating on me,” I started.
“What are you talking about, Kurt? I didn’t cheat on you. You were completely aware of what was going on. You were invited to participate, and you refused.”
“I told you why I didn’t join in, Sabrina. Now, I want to understand a little more how you see things regarding this ‘new life’ (air quotes) that you want to have… especially why you never told me about it.”
She sighed, twice.
“Kurt, as I said, you chose not to get in the mood. I’m not gonna stop living my life and have fun because you don’t want to live yours. Friday night was a good occasion to blow off some steam, have fun and become teenagers again. But you take yourself so seriously that I wonder if you still know what the word FUN means”, she said, almost sneering.
“Ok, I can give you this, I may have become a bit too serious recently,” I admitted.
“A BIT!? Last Friday, you were so uptight I almost wanted to disappear,” she said, this time with open anger.
I thought ‘I was uptight because you ignored me and treated my like shit,’ but I refused to get into this chicken-and-egg argument.
“Sab, if you wanted to do this, why were you not upfront with me about it? You could have told me, and we could have agreed on our preferences or our limits.”
“Because limits are the only things you have, for Christ’s sake!”
By then, it was obvious that the conversation would not yield anything constructive.
Better to let things cool down a bit before giving it another shot. Sabrina started watching some TV and I went to my den.
THE INVITATION
Things were a bit better for the next couple of days. Sabrina even gave me a kiss before leaving for work on Wednesday morning, a first since the Friday before. At least, the situation had stopped deteriorating, I thought.
Until Wednesday evening.
“Kurt, Anne called me this afternoon. She and Carl have invited me to their lake house for the weekend. It’s about 90 minutes from here.”
“And I guess you have already accepted?”
“Yes, I have. Well, you are also invited. Anne and Carl would like to get to know you better.”
I burst out laughing. “Sab, Anne only talked to me to ask me to pass the bread along at the table. And Carl spent the whole time watching your legs and drooling like a Saint Bernard dog. I would have vanished and they would never have noticed.”
She did not let me take her there. “Anyway, since you don’t seem about to get your head out of your ass, I told her that I would most certainly go alone. So yes, I am going, with or without you,” she told me with a defiant look.
“You told her that? You told her that I have my head stuck in my ass? In other words, you made sure that I wouldn’t go. How would you want me to show up there after you described me in such… enticing terms?”
“Well, I am not going to hold your hand there. I am not your mother, nor your shrink. You come or you don’t. It’s up to you.”
“Sabrina, I don’t want you to go. I want us to take the time to discuss all this before we go further in there. Right now, I feel betrayed. You may think that what you did last Friday was out in the open, but I never agreed to this, and I feel that you cheated on me. I am prepared to forgive you for this, but I will not be insulted and ridiculed again.
“I am not saying that I want you to never see them again, or that the two of us will never see them again, but I need the two of us to get on the same page before we do this again. A few steps were skipped, and I want us to do it right. Don’t you think this is an acceptable compromise?” I asked.
“Kurt, I am going. I haven’t had a fun weekend in a long time. If it’s so important to you, we can discuss it next week and the week after. But you will not make me miss some fun time.”
The conversation was clearly going nowhere, again, and it was getting there fast. I decided that it was enough arguing for that night and that I needed to make a stronger statement the next day. I waited until Sabrina was asleep before going to bed.
I left before her on Thursday. When I got home after work, she was preparing dinner. She did not hear me get in, because she was busy in the kitchen and she was in the middle of a phone conversation. Her phone was on speaker. I could recognize Anne’s voice.
“I told Kurt I was going, but I am still hesitating. I know he’s mad and I don’t want to upset him even more.”
“Sab, I told you. He’ll come around. If he doesn’t come with you this weekend, I’ll manage to have lunch with him next week. Count on me to make him change his mind. All men eventually do.”
I was dumbstruck.
“Well, I am afraid next week will be a bit late,” my wife replied.
“I would have loved to take him to lunch today, but Carl and I are already at the lake, preparing everything. We should be 6 couples. That will be a magic weekend!” Anne joyfully explained.
“Wait a minute, you say 6 couples? That’s assuming Kurt changes his mind?” Sabrina asked.
“I have already counted your husband out, Sab. A good friend of Carl’s will be there. Dan is a single guy, with everything it takes to make a woman happy. Trust me, I have already done some quality control on him!” Anne said, giggling.
“And if Kurt shows up after all?” Sabrina inquired.
“Not a problem either! I will call Susan, a single friend who will be more than happy to join us too! Don’t worry Sab, everything is covered. Carl and I have been doing this for years.”
They continued chatting for a few minutes before Sabrina hung up. I was shocked. Six COUPLES. A single guy would be there to make the count even, to stand in FOR ME. Wow. I silently went back out to my car and drove away. I needed some alone time to think that over.
Not a lot of time, actually. It was easy: either she stayed home that weekend and we reset everything to then start over with the swinging discussion and do it the right way, or she went to the lake house, and I would file for divorce. It was as simple as that.
I went back home 30 minutes later.
“Sorry Hon, I was trapped in an endless meeting.”
“Oh, that’s ok Kurt. I am just done with dinner. Come in, everything’s ready.”
Dinner was about normal. She gave me the long version of her day. And then the longer version of her day.
I sent her to the living room with a glass of wine and took care of cleaning the kitchen. I then joined her in the living room, not knowing where to start. She was the one to finally throw a peanut to the elephant still sitting in the room, laughing at us.
“Kurt, have you made up your mind about this weekend?”
“My mind was made up yesterday, Sab. And I have not changed it. I want the two of us to do it the right way.”
She sighed, stood up and went upstairs. I decided that it was time for the stronger statement. I slept in the guest room that night.
W-WEEKEND
On Friday morning, I was already in the kitchen when she got in for some coffee. She looked subdued. I waited for her to say something. I had hopes that my not sleeping with her the night before would have punched in the right spot.
“I will get off work at 12:00 today, Kurt. I will come back here, then finish preparing and leave around 1 PM. If you decide to come, I’ll be happy. If you’re not here, I will text you the address in case you change your mind.”
“Sabrina, please don’t go. Please stay here, so that we can make things right,” I begged. I had promised myself that I would not beg, but I was now facing the end of my marriage.
“I told you I needed this. I am going,” she replied, with a strangely neutral voice.
“Sab, please, don’t choose your friends over your husband. I will not accept being put aside.” I needed to try one last time.
She looked at me, sighed, got up and left for work. No goodbye, no kiss, nothing.
To say that I did not have the most productive day that Friday would be an understatement. I had the impetus of a jellyfish.
I left the office at 12:30 and drove home. I parked a few houses away from ours and waited. Sabrina got out of the house a bit before 1:00 with an overnight bag and drove away.
I went to the kitchen to fix myself some coffee, and found a note on the table:
‘See you on Sunday, sweetheart. If you finally decide that it’s time you finally put some fun in your life, come and join us. Everybody will be happy to see you. If you don’t, then I am looking forward to telling you about my weekend and to razz you about having spent yours alone moping.
Kiss
Sab’
That was it. She had done it. She had chosen her friends over her marriage.
The rest of the afternoon was spent making some planning and phone calls.
BACK TO EARTH
Some common friends told me how things went when Sabrina got back from her weekend.
Sabrina was a bit surprised to find the house empty when she returned early in the evening on Sunday. She was expecting and hoping to find me there, full of regrets about my decision not to go, and she had been looking forward to telling me everything about the weekend. Maybe some hot quips about the fun they had over there would tease me enough to go with her the next time.
I had left her a note on the kitchen table, at the same place exactly where she had left hers. Next to the note was a small envelope. She first read the note:
‘Sab,
You made your choice, and I can only accept it. I warned you I would not be dismissed. I have filed for divorce. You will be served at home on Wednesday evening. If you must communicate with me, please contact my lawyer. His card is in the envelope.
Kurt’
She found the card in the envelope, along with my wedding ring. Her initial reaction was to smirk at the bad joke. She told herself that she would let me stew for a few days. I would eventually come around.
That is what Anne had said to her all weekend, after all: Kurt will eventually go with the flow.
But when she went to our bedroom and realized that my side of the closet was empty, and that most of my personal belongings were gone, she started thinking for the first time that she may have gone a bit far.
She called Anne and told her about her fear. Anne, in her infinite wisdom, told her not to worry, that I would eventually understand and accept to go along on her terms.
Yeah, right…
I had moved my things to a small rent-per-month apartment close to my office. I should have forced her to move out, since the house was mine; I had inherited it from my parents. But I assumed things would be simpler that way.
Sabrina tried to call me twice on Monday, and three times on Tuesday. I let all her calls go to voicemail. She was increasingly worried.
The process server was scheduled for Wednesday at 6 PM to officially deliver her the divorce papers.
I was expecting a call from Sabrina between 6 PM and 6:15. She called at 6:10. This time, I took it.
“Hello Sabrina,” I said, neutrally.
She was crying. “Kurt, what is this? Divorce? You can’t be serious??”
“I am Sab. I am. I told you I would not accept this.”
“But I don’t want a divorce, Kurt!” she cried.
“Think of it Sab: maybe your ‘lake-house husband’, what was his name — oh yeah, Dan — will be happy to get to spend more time with you.”
That was a cheap shot, I know. I could not help it. Her reaction made it clear that one had stung hard.
“How do you know of…” She was now howling.
“Can we at least talk about it? Can you please come over for coffee?” she pleaded.
I waited a few seconds and sighed. Loud enough that she could hear.
“Ok Sab. I will be at the house around 7 PM tomorrow. See you.” I hung up before she could reply anything. I wanted to give her some time to calm down. I was ok with meeting her only to let her know how I felt, not to be her shoulder to cry on.
I showed up at the house on time the next day. Sabrina had put on a light dress that she knew I liked, and she had some fresh makeup, probably to hide the puffiness of her still red eyes.
“I am glad you came, Kurt. There are so many things I want to tell you. I am sure you will understand everything.”
I cut her right away. She still didn’t understand.
“Sabrina, I don’t want to hear it. There is nothing more you can tell me about what you did. Your actions spoke volumes.”
“But Kurt, I love you. I need you. I want you to be the father of my kids. You can’t leave me!” Her freshly applied makeup was now dripping down her cheeks.
“That’s the problem, Sab. It is what YOU want. What YOU need. What YOU feel like doing. What about what I want? You have made abundantly clear over the past few days that my needs were just a minor inconvenience that you would swiftly throw under the rug. I won’t accept this. I may be tight and rigid, but I’m not a loser.”
“Oh Kurt, I never thought you were a loser. And I have always loved you, admired you. I always thought we were a strong couple. I just wanted to have a bit of fun last weekend and the week before. Nothing serious. No harm done! Anne was adamant that you would come around and get into it. She says all guys eventually do.”
“No harm done?! Wow, Sab, you just don’t get it, do you? What you did is you sat comfortably in a train with some friends of yours, leaving me on the deck without telling me you had boarded. You let the train gain almost full speed, and then you started making fun of me because I couldn’t run fast enough to jump in. And, of course, you never bothered to ask if I was interested in the destination. Is that what you call love and consideration? Is that your idea of a couple?”
For the first time, she didn’t know what to say.
“And no, I am not prepared to forgive and forget. What you did these past few days was not only having sex with other people. It was showing me that you were capable of dismissing and belittling me if it suited your needs. I sort of knew you could do this to people. I just didn’t thing you would do this to ME. And no, I will not live the rest of my life with someone who is capable of doing this to me.”
She was sobbing now, her head in her hands.
“As for what Anne told you, how can you logically think that a woman who exchanged one sentence and a half with me would know how I see things better than I do myself? You chose to listen to her, rather than listen to me. Again, you chose her before me. I won’t have that, Sabrina.”
She now looked defeated.
“Please sign the papers. You will see that the arrangement is very fair. And find another place to stay before the end of next month.”
I stood up and left. Just in time, because a few more seconds and I would have started to cry too.
Sabrina did not fight the divorce. Six months later, everything was said and done.
EPILOGUE
Four years later, we were sipping drinks with Cheryl, my wife of three years, and our good friends Jacob and Claire on the covered terrasse of a well-known swinging resort in the Caribbeans. Cheryl had her hand on mine when I heard a familiar voice seething behind me:
“You are just a fucking hypocrite!”
“Oh, nice to see you too, Sabrina! How have you been?” I replied, with a wry smile.
“You must be his new wife or girlfriend, I suppose?” Sabrina asked Cheryl. “Did he tell you that he divorced me because he wouldn’t do swinging? What a lying, two-faced asshole!”
Cheryl looked at her with a smile full of contempt.
“You were right, Kurt,” Cheryl said. “She just doesn’t get it.”