February Sucks - Another Version

Linda was crying to hard that she couldn't hold herself upright in the floor.

"I so sorry, Jim. I'm so, so sorry for what I did to hurt you. I know there is nothing I can say or do to make you love me again. I can't even ask you for forgiveness, because I don't deserve it."

I stared at her on the floor. I had never seen a human being so forlorn. I stood up and went to her and helped her to her feet. She offered no resistance. I sat her on the couch with me and put my arm around her. I didn't do this because I forgave her. I did it because I felt sorry for her. I would have done it for a complete stranger.

I thought to myself, "I wanted her to feel what I had felt. I did my job too well. I turned her into a blithering lost soul."

With her head buried in my chest, she continued to cry. Over the next twenty minutes or so, her crying subsided into an occasional sob. After a few more minutes, I realized she was asleep. I decided to let her sleep for the time being.

More than an hour later, I had to wake her. "Wake up, Linda," I said and I gently rocked her. At first, she didn't want to wake up but I was persistent. "Wake, up. It's getting late and we have to go get the kids."

Finally, she awakened and rubbed her eyes. "How long have I been asleep," she asked.

"More than an hour," I replied. "You should wash your face and put on a little make-up before we go."

Without saying anything, she went upstairs. I took the opportunity to call my parents to let them know we would be at their house in forty-five minutes to collect or kids. My mom wanted to know if she should give them dinner before we arrived and I said not to, that we would get some pizza on the way home.

Emma and Tommy were happy to see us. In the car they talked effusively about all the things they had done with grandma and grandpa. They were happy, too, when I suggested we stop at Papa John's for pizza. At the restaurant, they gobbled down two or three pieces of pizza while Linda and I each had a slice. I had a beer to go along with my pizza. Everyone else had a soft drink.

Once home, it was obvious that the kids were running low on energy. Linda took care of Emma and I put Tommy in his bed. He went out like a light. As I left Tommy's room, I heard Linda reading a fairy tale to Emma.

Downstairs, I grabbed another beer, put on my heavy coat and a scarf, and stepped onto the back patio. Although the night was clear, the temperature was near freezing. I turned the gas to the fire pit on and threw in some logs. The gas sustainer flames would keep the fire burning without the requirement to stoke it constantly. I pulled one of the patio chairs close enough to the fire pit that I could put my feet on the surrounding brickwork. I tried to envision the future. I couldn't.

A half-an-hour later, I noticed that Linda turned off the lights in the family room. That left the patio in complete darkness except for the fire. She stepped onto the patio and stood by the fire, looking at the flames. She had her heavy winter coat on with the front open so she could feel the heat from the fire.

"Do you want a divorce?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Like you, I wouldn't do that to our children. I want them to have a happy family life for as long as possible."

She sat down in one of the other patio chairs and stared at the fire. She went on, "Is it still your dream to divorce me soon after Tommy goes to college so you can find your true soulmate?"

"Yes, something like that," I said.

"Until then, Jim, I'm going to be the wife you thought you lost. I'm going to fix your meals, do the grocery shopping, clean the house, raise your children, be your companion and take care of you when you are ill. In bed, I'm going to be the best fuck you could ever hope to have, except for Ellen maybe.

The comment about Ellen surprised me and I looked at her. She had a slight smile on her lips. "That's a joke," she said. I had to chuckle a little.

"Further, I'm going to take full advantage of those times when we are with the children, family or friends and you pretend to be affectionate. I'm going hold your hand, and put my arm around you, and kiss you. In bed, when you are asleep, I'm going to spoon with you and put my leg over you. Occasionally, some mornings, I'm going to wake you up with a world-class blowjob."

Linda was quiet for a minute. She may have been weeping but I didn't look at her face so I couldn't be certain.

"But you should know, Jim, that I have dreams, too."

Her statement required me to say something. "What are your dreams, Linda?"

"I dream that someday, not soon but someday, you will call me something other than Linda. You will call me sweetheart or honey or babe or darling or sugar. I dream that someday in the future, you will pat me on my butt as I pass you in the kitchen or precede you up the stairs and tell me that I have a great ass. I dream that someday, someday, you will make love to me again and not just fuck me.

"Most of all, I dream that you will trust me again to be the loyal wife you had for the first ten years that we were together."

"Why do you think I will ever trust you again, Linda, when I know what you are capable of on the spur of the moment?"

"Because," she continued, "you know that I now know how much I can lose if I ever did anything like that again."

Her twisted statement seemed to make a little sense to me.

"I dream," Linda went on to say, "that the day after we send Tommy to college, you don't present me with divorce papers. If you do, I will not contest the divorce. But if you don't, I'm going to get down on one knee, put your wedding ring in your hand and ask you to wear it. And then I'm going to ask you to marry me again. And I dream you will say 'Yes'."

I took a minute to answer. "You have thirteen years. Good luck."

END