She nodded against my chest, then kissed it softly. “I do. I didn’t deserve this much. I know it. You’ve been more than generous. I’ll start Monday.”
I thought we were done for the night, but she worked her oral magic, and rode me with a sad desperation. Afterward, I held her as she cried herself to sleep.
She moved on. Found a small apartment she shared. Got a menial job as a receptionist. She looked good, the best she ever had. She’d been in nice shape when I took her in, and she worked hard to improve that for me. It paid off.
Oddly enough, we remained friends. Friends with benefits for a long time. My own divorce came through, and I started dating again. For some reason I never tried before then. I don’t think it was because I was being faithful to my marriage, because I sure as hell used Gail thoroughly and often. I ended up in a couple of exclusive relationships for a while, but couldn’t find what I needed. I enjoyed those times, but when they were over, I’d take up with Gail again. She kept some things at my place, and stayed over more often than she went home, but it was different. She was mine when I wanted, but she went back to her place when I told her to. She never left on her own.
Every couple of months, she’d probe a little. “Can you forgive her yet?”
“I don’t think I ever will. It was too much.” I’d explain. The same damn conversation over-and-over. Always during sex, when I was at my weakest.
She wouldn’t press too hard, just send out those little feelers. I started to wonder if she was in contact with Brenda. If she knew.
I asked her, and she denied it. “No. I don’t know where she is, and haven’t heard from her.”
“Then why the questions?”
“I think you need her. If you were ready, I’d find her for you. It’s the least I could do.”
“Bring back that cheating whore? You think you’d be doing me a favor?” I snapped angrily.
She looked sad. “I do. If you found the right girl, I’d stop. I want you to be happy, Dave. I wish it could be with me. I understand it can’t. I know it could be with Brenda, if you could find a way to forgive her.”
All I had to do was remember her lying there, naked, lubed up and ready to go. Laughing and joking. Telling me how wonderful it was, thinking it was Nick all the time. Giving him her ass, which she’d always denied me. God, that irked me. “It’s not going to happen, Gail. It was too much.”
* * *
They say time heals all wounds. It might have healed mine, but it left hellacious scars.
It was four long years before I finally did move on. My business was successful, my anger had dissipated, and I had the world’s best sex any time I wanted. I needed more.
I met her at Arby’s of all places. She ran into me and dropped her tray with all her food. She’d been having a bad day. She started crying.
I’m a sucker for tears. I sat her down, took her tray and receipt to the counter, and they replaced everything for free. I brought it back to her, and left her alone. She barely stopped crying long enough to thank me.
She must have lived nearby. I ran into her three more times, twice at the supermarket, before we both laughed and said we had to stop meeting like that. I bought her a coffee.
A week later, I ran into her again. I had figured out she did her shopping on Saturday mornings, and I was in the store for 2 hours before I ‘accidentally’ found her. Her smile made my day. She let me buy her lunch. I left with her number. The next day I asked her on a date.
It’s a small world. She was 28, divorced, childless. Four years earlier she had only been married a year, when she learned her husband who worked from home had been using a certain cleaning company once a week.
I explained my wife’s involvement. She walked out on me, her meal half-finished. I didn’t see her for four weeks, even though I staked out the market. I called daily for a few days, then every few days, then I stopped. I could take a hint. Gail soothed me with her body. Frequently and thoroughly. The woman gave great consolation.
I shopped late, not wanting to see her. It didn’t matter. It was after 7:00 pm, and she walked up to me. “I’m sorry. It hurt too much.”
“Me too,” I told her. “I didn’t want to hurt you anymore, so I thought I’d leave you alone.”
“You know your phone number is blocked?” she asked.
“Yeah. I still get some awkward calls. It’s unlisted.”
“I couldn’t call. I’ve been in this damn supermarket for almost 9 hours. I’m sloshing from so much coffee. I was getting afraid you’d found somewhere else to shop.”
Two weeks later she stayed the night. The following week I cut Gail off. If I’d known it was going to be our last time, I might have made more of it.
Jenny and I spent the weekend together, mostly in bed, telling each other our full stories. She couldn’t get over my relationship with Gail.
“You’ll take care of one cheating whore, and keep seeing her, but dump your wife for doing the same damn thing?” She sounded angry.
“I know. I can’t figure it out either,” I confessed. “I guess the difference is, Gail didn’t cheat on me. She gave me what I needed when my life was a mess. She felt so damn guilty, she catered to me completely. It helped. When I was ready to move on, she let me. No fuss.”
She shook her head at me. “Jesus, Dave. I can’t believe I’d fall for the one poor bastard more screwed up in the head than me.”
I laughed, pulling her naked body close. “You falling for me?”
“Duh. You can be dumber than a box of rocks sometimes.”