An Imperfect Couple Ch. 03

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The Imperfect Couple become involved...
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Part 3 of the 7 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 07/27/2017
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FLSr5r
FLSr5r
195 Followers

This is chapter three in the series, An Imperfect Couple. It would be best if you read chapter one and two in the series before this one so you can get the backstory for this chapter. This is a romance and not a sex story, although the sexual tension and attraction between the two is quite evident and clearly building. But be patient – the sex will come soon enough. Please enjoy this story, and feel free to offer any feedback you think is appropriate. A writer always loves feedback from his reader.

*****

"Now that we have that settled..." I looked at her until she smiled that saucy, teasing smile that I was beginning to love, and then I returned it. "Now that we have that settled, it is your turn. You have mentioned your husband several times tonight, and you were wearing a wedding band earlier. Yet you are here with me. So what is your story? And if you are uncomfortable sharing, please feel free to talk about the weather or something." I chuckled and was glad to see things had relaxed between us again.

"Now that is a long story that you probably aren't interested in." I could tell she was trying to avoid talking about this.

"Right. You said that earlier, and it was just as untrue then as it is now."

"Okay. Well..." and she took a deep breath. "I married young, right out of high school. I grew up in a very conservative home, and a girl just didn't get pregnant unless she married the boy. So, I was married at eighteen. Then I had a miscarriage, with some problems. We struggled for a while with finances, and then my husband got a good job and things started to go well for us. Jimmie, that was his name, wouldn't let me get a job out of some sense that he was the bread winner. For years we had what I believed was a good marriage. But I couldn't get pregnant again, and we began to have difficulty over what he believed was my failure. And then he became... unkind." She had paused at that last word, and said it as if it were a struggle. Sensing something was left unspoken, I interrupted.

"He became abusive."

"Well, let's just say that his anger over not having children began to show." She paused again and then almost laughed. "You know, my therapist told me that if I had admitted that earlier, I could have saved myself thousands of dollars in therapy. Yes, he became abusive." She seemed to breathe a sigh of relief that she finally said it. "He hurt me.

"Nothing serious. I mean, I never had to go to the doctor over anything he did. It was mostly just grabbing my arms as firmly as he could and shaking me really hard. My arms were so bruised often enough that I began wearing long sleeves everywhere but when I was home." Another long pause, and then she started again.

"After years of this, a friend of his told him something that he had tried, and so Jimmie wanted to try it. In truth, he really didn't want to hurt me. But sometimes he just lost it and he would grab me and shake me in anger. He said it really wasn't anger but frustration over not being able to have a family." When she paused again, I stepped in.

"He had a family. He just didn't have children." I tried to keep my disgust in check, hoping that it didn't show.

"I know, but he didn't see it that way. So, we tried something. We took a week and went to the beach and just focused on mending the marriage. It happened to be the hotel we are staying at, and the room I am staying in. The week went well. We drank lots of alcohol and he got lots of sex and I experienced some peace in the relationship. And even a little love. When we went back home, things went well for several months. And then the anger began to show little by little. After a year, things had gone back to the way they were. So we tried the vacation again. And lots of alcohol and lots of sex and a little peace, and then we went back home. And again, things went well for a while. So we settled into a pattern. Every year, we would stay a week in the same room, and every year things would be better for a few months. We did this for six years. And then, on our last vacation, he drove to the store to get more beer and never came back. After about four hours, I got a call from his father telling me that Jimmie had hit a tree and died and the police had no way to get in touch with me. So they located his dad and he called me. It was all pretty horrible." Tears were streaming down her cheeks by now and my heart went out to her. I reached across the table and took both her hands in mine, but said nothing. I mean, what do you say to a story like that? Rae looked down at our hands and I thought she was gong to pull away, but she didn't. Instead, she continued.

"For a couple of weeks, I just sat in our house and did nothing. Then the savings ran out and I had to go get a job. Jimmie would never get any life insurance, claiming that if I didn't give him children, then he wouldn't let me make any money off his death. We argued about that a few times and then I let it go. I never knew what my father did after overhearing one of our arguments. He went out and bought a big policy and made me beneficiary. And one day he visited me with another man, who turned out to be the insurance agent. And they handed me a very large check. Now, I work part time just to keep from going crazy. And I volunteer a lot with a daycare center in the poor side of town, and with the Girl Scouts and a couple of other charities. And I spend about 20 hours a week in the cancer ward of the children's hospital back home entertaining the kids." She paused again. She had been pushing around pieces of her dinner for several minutes, not looking at me at all. I was still holding her left hand, and she kept looking at that. A lot. So I said nothing and looked at our hands, too. After maybe a minute, I softly asked a question that had formed in my mind.

"So, what brings you back to the same hotel room the two of you shared so often? That seems a little... unusual." I tried not to sound judgmental, but I had to wonder about that.

"Well, that was an experiment. I had some really good memories of our marriage, and I also had some really bad memories. During that first year after he died, I found that I remembered more and more of the bad things and less and less of the good things, and I didn't want that to happen. But when I tried to remember the best times, they were all right here in that hotel room. I didn't want to turn into a sad and bitter old maid, so I decided to return to that room each year and try to remember the good times. And we really did have some good times. He actually tried to be a loving and romantic husband when we were here. He wasn't very good at it," she chuckled at her own comment, "but he actually tried. So every year I spend a week in the hotel room where we had such good times in the hopes that I will always be able to look back with fond memories on 24 years of marriage. This week is my sixth year." Rae stopped as if she had finally run out of steam. I left the silence alone for at least a minute, watching a last tear run down her right cheek and fall into the remaining Chicken Marsala. Then she sighed deeply and took a large drink of the wine she had been ignoring for the last ten minutes.

"Rachael, I cannot tell you how proud I am, and how impressed I am, that you would do this. The great pain it must have cost you, at least in the beginning, has also brought great healing to your soul, I am sure. You are such a wise and courageous woman." I stopped because I didn't know what more to say. Besides, I was choking up at her story, and my constricted throat just wouldn't let me say anything more. So we both sat there in silence, filled with our own thoughts. After several minutes of silence with her looking at her plate, still pushing that helpless chicken around, I decided to break the silence.

"I am sorry I pushed you to share that story." My words were quiet but filled with compassion. "I know that opened some deep wounds for you. I hope it hasn't ruined the evening."

"No, actually I feel better than I have in a long time. I think it was good for me to tell you all that. It is I who should apologize for ruining the evening with such a depressing story." For the first time in at least ten minutes, she looked me in the eyes. Red-rimmed though they were, her eyes showed just a glimmer of that sparkle that I liked so much. She looked into my eyes for at least twenty seconds before looking down at her plate in what seemed to be embarrassment. Then she spoke again.

"So, what is for dessert?" And suddenly, the evening was totally changed. Her face glowed in a beautiful smile, and her eyes had that saucy, sexy sparkle to them once again. She had pulled her hand from my grasp a moment ago, and now she reached for that hand again. And when she took it, there was no hesitancy. She squeezed it, and then held it, and then let it go. As she looked down at her dinner, I realized that it must have turned cold, so I signaled for our server to come over. When she arrived, I pointed at Rae's plate.

"We have been so engrossed in her listening to a long and rambling story of mine that her dinner has become cold. Could you take it to the kitchen and have someone nuke it for a minute?" She nodded and took the plate away.

We took a moment to look into each others eyes, and I saw the sparkle was still there. We paused for a moment, and then Rae broke the silence.

"So, here we sit, a fine example of two unremarkable people caught up in our mediocrity."

"Whoa! Wait a minute. Who are you calling mediocre?" My words and my eyes showed a glimmer of humor, but my heart was objecting strongly.

"I was only saying that we are two average people with shitty lives. Just average people." Rae seemed to be a little confused at my objection.

"Well, I don't think we are average at all, and we are definitely not shitty people."

"What? A battered wife without the guts to leave a messed up relationship? I see nothing remarkable here to warrant much of a positive review."

"Rachael," I objected sincerely, "I would appreciate it if you don't speak so negatively about a friend of mine." I tried to sound gentle, but my heart was quite firm.

"I was only saying that..." I interrupted, finally sounding as firm as I felt.

"What you were trying to say is just plain wrong, and I don't want to hear you say it again!" She reacted with surprise at my words, and also at the firmness in my voice.

"I was only trying to say that there is nothing remarkable between us, and that we are both messed up people recovering from messed up relationships. What is the problem?" She looked at me and saw me glaring back at her.

"Sorry, Rachael, but you are wrong. First, we are not messed up people recovering from messed up marriages. We are two wonderful people who were married to messed up people for a while." I paused to let that sink in, and then continued. "Second, you are an awesome woman. And I will point out two reasons why I say this, but there are many. Why did the jerk downstairs single you out?" I waited for an answer, but she balked, so I answered for her. "He thought you were very attractive. No, don't interrupt." I saw her eyes and I stopped her before she could say anything. "He had a roomful of women, at least a hundred of them. He singled you out because you were ugly, right?" She jerked upright at that, but then saw my expression and calmed down immediately. "No, he singled you out because you are beautiful and also because your dress showed that you are a very sexy woman." Again, she started to say something but thought better of it.

"You are obviously a beautiful and sexy woman, and he singled you out as his conquest for the night. There is no other interpretation possible. Okay?" I paused but she didn't respond. "Okay?" I repeated.

"Okay," she finally responded somewhat sheepishly.

"Plus, the story you just told me of you coming back to this hotel for the last few years for the reasons you described is an indication of a wise and courageous woman who was willing to face a little pain so she could experience great release from the past. You are a remarkable women, Rachael, and I will not allow you to diminish or speak ill of yourself. Not if you want me to stay here and not walk out on you. I require people to treat my friends with the respect and honor they deserve. Even when talking about themselves. Okay?" She must have looked at me for at least ten seconds with no expression at all. And then a simple nod was offered in the face of my demands.

"Listen, Rae, you have made it partway along your journey to good emotional health. But you still have some distance to go. You have wisely and courageously decided to focus on and remember the good times with your husband. That is great. But you also need to forget the views and opinions he heaped on top of you during your marriage. He made the problems out to be your fault. He seldom complimented you. He made you to feel like you were not an attractive woman. He probably made you feel like you were average or below average in many ways. Right?" She hesitated, but finally nodded in agreement.

"Men like Jimmie often make their women feel unattractive, and let them know that the only reason they stay married is out of noble sacrifice. Did he do that to you?" Another pause and another subtle nod.

"And men like Jimmie often tell their women that they are emotionally crippled, and that other men could never love them. Did he do that to you?" She barely looked at me, but the agony in her eyes was evident.

"And men like Jimmie often make their women feel like they are no good in bed, and that they perform sexual activities poorly, and that no other man would stay married to a woman who was so bad in bed. Did he do that to you?" This time tears filled that pause, but she still nodded in agreement.

"Well, I am here to tell you that Jimmie lied to you for all those years. You have been listening to his lies for too long, and you have believed some of them. And just as you have worked hard to remember the good times you had with him, you need to work hard to stop believing the lies you heard from him. Jimmie may have been a lot of things, but he was a fearful and cowardly man. He didn't just abuse you physically, he abused you emotionally. He damaged you emotionally, and you need emotional healing. And I cannot sit here and listen to you repeat the lies he has told you for all these years. You are not an average woman who is only mediocre in looks. You are an exceptional woman who is beautiful and sexy and wise and courageous. Do you understand me?" She was looking down at the table and would not lift her eyes. "Rachael, do you understand what I said?" After at least thirty seconds, she finally looked up. Tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. My heart almost broke, looking at her tortured expression.

"Rachael, I don't want to hurt you, and I definitely don't want you to feel humiliated by any words I said. But he has programmed you to believe things that kept you chained to him, and that programming was a lie. You are not what he has told you all those years." I paused long enough to take both her hands in mine again. I squeezed them until she looked up and met my eyes. Then I continued, still holding her hands.

"Rachael, I asked you to join me for dinner because I really like you. I thought we would have a great time spending the evening together. Plus, I confess, that under that baggy sweat suit you were wearing, I suspected there was an attractive body that would add a little excitement to our time together." Another pause, while I prayed that I had not said too much with that last comment.

"Rachael, I don't date junk! If you were what Jimmie programmed you to believe, I would simply not have asked you out." I wasn't sure what more I could say, or even SHOULD say, so I just shut up. Now it was Rachael's turn. She would either respond positively to what I said for the last few minutes, or I would drive her back to her hotel room in silence. The next few seconds were downright agony for me.

We were interrupted, or maybe saved, by the server bringing back Rachael's dinner, steaming like it was fresh off the grill. I thanked the server, and she was wise enough to see that she needed to quickly retreat. Rae looked down at her meal for several long moments. And then something shifted in her stature. She sat up straight and took a second look at her meal as if she had just seen something she had never seen before. Then she looked at me with just the beginning of a smile.

"So, what you are saying is that I feel like a cold dinner with the sauce congealed and the meat tasteless. But that I can be like a warmed up and refreshed dinner, as tasty as it ever was. You are saying that I can be remade." She had a confused expression, but with a fair amount of wonder and even a little excitement.

"An awkward but handy analogy." I had to grin at her homespun comparison. "Rachael, I am getting to like you more and more. As I said a moment ago, you are an exceptional woman. And I am proud that you accepted my invitation to join me for dinner. And I won't listen to anyone telling me that you are not what I envision you to be underneath that sexy little dress you are wearing." I cringed at those last words. "What I meant to say..." She laughed at my comment.

"I know what you meant to say, Rick. That was your teenage charm leaking into your words again, and not the smooth and eloquent man I see across the table from me." She laughed again, but a little more gently this time.

"Inside. Inside you. What you are on the inside." I was sputtering, and kept trying to correct my words to accurately reflect that I intended to say, but somehow I kept stumbling around.

"So, you were wondering what I am like under my dress?" Her words were accompanied once again by that glint in her eyes, the sparkle that lit up her face so wonderfully. I grinned sheepishly, but said nothing. We looked at each other in silence for several seconds, and then her face took a serious expression and she spoke.

"Rick, I want to thank you for correcting me. You are right. I have been listening to his words for too many years, even replaying them over and over in my mind. I don't know how long it will take me to overcome the damage, but I will try. Thank you for pointing me down that path." I was still holding both of her hands, and this time it was she who squeezed mine. And it felt good, reassuring me that I didn't mess things up between us like I had feared. She pulled her right hand away from my grasp and ate in silence for a while, pondering the things I had said and contrasting them with the things Jimmie had said for so many years. And I let her eat in silence, believing that I had said enough on the issue for the evening. Then she broke the silence again.

"You know, Rick, you really are courageous. You addressed my self-image comments firmly, but with care. That had to have been hard for you, knowing that there was a good chance I would walk out on you. And judging by your comment about what is under my dress, I can assume that you didn't want me to walk out on you." We both chuckled at that, and then she continued. "So you took a risk, and you took that risk for no reason but my benefit." She paused, and looked deeply into my eyes. "I just want you to know that I understand what you did and that I appreciate it." She again squeezed the hand she still held in her left hand. We exchanged something deep and emotional through our expressions, but I was not sure exactly what that was. And I wasn't sure what to say in response.

"I meant what I said about standing up for my friends. I want you to know that it was not just a line that was supposed to sound good." I was almost sheepish in my voices as I spoke.

FLSr5r
FLSr5r
195 Followers
12