Cheaters Coven

"I felt like I'd made a point. I needed to find a silver lining for what I'd done, and this was it. I wasn't looking for more extracurricular sex, but if it happened, well, it had absolutely nothing to with Scott. I still adored him, he adored me, and we were still as physical as ever. Isn't it amazing how easy it is to lie to yourself?

"Now, as I mentioned, I'm a college teacher. I teach English, with a specialization in creative writing. A few years after Donny left –and I had not been with anybody but Scott during those years - I was teaching a class, and there was this young author – poet really - sitting in, auditing some of my classes. He was already published, and had done okay, but, as he put it, 'success made me realize how much I didn't know and how much I'd relied on the editor to fix my comma's'. He felt that as he became a better story-teller, he became less sharp as a writer. Interesting, no? So he went back to community college to refocus on the mechanics of writing.

"And that's how I met Leo. He was younger than me, a mere twenty-three years old. He was a poet – one of those fire and brimstone poets, where they do readings and get all worked up. He was good, too. Effective. He had a great command of the language."

Gina looked around into the somewhat unsympathetic faces of Mae, Rhonda and Brooklyn.

"Well, he did!" she justified, a little hotly.

"It didn't hurt that he was dark and gothy and interesting. I helped him out with some word training and one evening, he helped me out of my panties. It was more curiosity on my part – would the fire and brimstone of his readings show up in the sack?

"As it was, yes it did. He was good. Eager, but not too eager. Just enough experience to have a couple of tricks I'd never seen. A big dick – bigger than Scott, but not too big. It was great. Good sex. Not loving sex, but for what it was, it was great. We had a great time. By then I was way past the guilt thing. I'd done a spectacular job of convincing myself that because it didn't mean anything to me, it shouldn't mean anything to anyone.

"We got it on six or seven times, and I didn't think much of it beyond that. But then, he started to get clingy. I hadn't really considered that – he saw a lot more in our relationship than I did. I mean, I should have. He was a poet, after all - all raw emotions and no logic.

"I told him that it was just a physical relationship. That I loved my husband and he was never going to supplant that, no matter what he might think. We might have fun, but nothing more than that. Of course, he didn't listen. I missed the signs. I thought the fact that he wrote a poem about me was nice, but I didn't really read it properly. He waited until an evening reading, when he knew that Scott would be there with me, to read his magnum opus, and then at the end of it, declare his love for me and ask me to leave Scott and be his muse, in front of everyone. A real potent moment, so he thought. Scott thought it was all hilarious, right up to the point where Leo explained we'd already been intimate, and it was the kind of sex that gods talk about, even describing how I had recently shaved my pussy for him, something Scott knew I'd done, but he didn't know why. It wasn't true of course, I didn't shave it for Leo, but Scott didn't know that. But, duh, Leo shouldn't have known about it in the first place. I was busted. So fucking busted.

"Scott went ballistic. I've never seen anything like it. I didn't know Scott could be like that. He turned a table over, a big heavy one, to get at Leo, who suddenly was genuinely frightened – you could see it in his eyes. It's one thing to get up there and be frothed up by a bunch of emo's buying into your every word, it's another to have a very angry husband, who can clearly break you in half with one arm, try and push people out of the way in his attempt to get to you in order to do just that."

Gina stopped, panting a little. Her eyes were a little wide, as she reran the episode in her mind.

"Scott had looked at me when Leo made his statement, and I just couldn't even look back at him. He knew it was true, right then. And just went berserk. He got one punch in on Leo, and absolutely flattened him, before everyone piled on. They held him down while other people hustled Leo out. They tried to get me to leave, but I was hysterical, and wouldn't, pushing a couple of people off me who tried to maneuver me out.

"The police came and there were plenty of witnesses who all pointed out Scott. The whole thing came out. Scott had calmed down a bit by then, but he wouldn't talk to me, or even look at me. They carted Scott off to book him and I followed in our car. They wouldn't let him out that night, but the next day they let him go. With Leo gone, there wasn't enough evidence to keep him beyond that, nor anyone to push charges.

"I'll never forget when he came out. He was unshaven, red eyed, smelt bad, and wouldn't even look at me. He just got in the car, and we went home. Not a word was spoken. I didn't know what to say or do. I tried a couple of times, but he shut me down with just a look. We got home and he pulled out some bags and I knew where that was going and I wouldn't let him go. I stood in front of the door, pleading with him to talk to me. I told him to hit me or beat me or yell at me – anything. But he just stood there, waiting, not saying much of anything beyond 'Get out of the way, leave me alone', that kind of thing. It was an impasse. Eventually I realized I would never be able to stop him if he really wanted to leave. I couldn't keep him there, so I let him go. I didn't really know what else to do. I had to give him time and space, to sort through his feelings. The only thing I did know was that we had to meet and talk, so I could explain that I loved him and only him. That these other dalliances were nothing. You see, even when confronted with the reality that what was 'nothing' to me was 'everything' to Scott, I still couldn't see it through his eyes. I was buying into my own bullshit more than his reality, a reality that I caused."

There was another pause, and then Gina resumed, "He left and I didn't see or hear from him for a week. Then I was served at work. I was distraught and a mess and sent home.

"I saw him once after that. Once. Can you imagine? I persuaded him to meet me for dinner, so I could explain. I was so nervous. It didn't do a thing. I didn't know what to say – lots of the usual 'it didn't mean anything', 'I love only you', 'We can get past this', 'I'm so sorry' – I mean, what else do you say in these circumstances? He made sure I was able to be ok financially. We sold the house and I got a small two-bedroom apartment in Des Plaines. I never did find out where he moved to. His friends circled the wagons and while they were cordial with me, they kept me very much at arms length. His family? Lets just not go there. It wasn't pretty. I got no hint of where Scott was or how he was doing. I was beside myself – what must he think? How must he be hurting..."

Gina twirled her hair in one hand without thinking about it. She wasn't even speaking to anyone in particular any more, she was just talking to the world.

"I saw a therapist. The one we're going to get you to see Brooke. She helped me to finally realize that I'd done such a great job of convincing myself that it didn't mean anything – and I honestly believe it didn't – I'd not even considered what it would mean to someone else. I mean, because it didn't mean anything tome, then it shouldn't mean anything to anyone else, right? I'd done such a great job of self justifying, I'd blinded myself to the fact that I was deliberately ignoring the consideration of what it might do to Scott. And now I think I did that because I knew what the result would be, so I did the best job I could of blinding myself to ever really thinking about it."

Gina came back to reality and gave a sad but rueful smile to the other women present. "Guess you really can baffle yourself with bullshit eh?"

Brooklyn looked horrified, and asked, tentatively, "What happened? Did you explain?"

"Oh I explained alright – or I tried to. Like I said, when we sat and had dinner, and I tried to tell him I loved him and only him, how the events had really just hammered home to me how much that was true – that was a poor choice of words if there ever was one, let me tell you girls. I explained that it was no reflection on him, he was wonderful and great, and it wasmethat had fucked up. I did all the stuff you usually do. Promised him anything at all if he'd give me another chance.

"He sat there and listened and eventually said that it was all bullshit. That if I'd been happy, I'd never have strayed. That therehadto be something wrong with our relationship or I'd never have looked elsewhere. I didn't know how to argue that. Therewasnothing wrong with us, but I'd done it anyway.

"I tried to explain about how I'd been in college, such a free spirit, but taken sex to mean nothing more than a good time at the time and that was it. That was all this was. He got even more mad at that. He said 'if it meant so little, thenwhy did I do it?'Why put my marriage at risk for something that meant so nothing? It was another good point. The therapist doesn't have a good answer for that either, apart from 'I could, so therefore I did'. It's not really a very good answer, even now. Makes me a selfish asshole. And he asked another stumper. If it was so innocent, why did I hide it from him? Why not tell him and even encourage him to have a little piece of 'nothing' on the side. If it was nothing, why hide it. I didn't really have any response to that.

"But then I put the final nail in the coffin. He asked me casually if Leo was the first. I replied hotly that of course he was. I didn't even think about Donny. The whole experience was so...disposable, I never even considered it. I wasn't trying to consciously lie - to my mind, he didn't even count and I hadn't even thought about him. It was years ago and I almost didn't even remember it. It wasn't even worth considering it. But somehow, Scott had found out about it. I didn't even know anyone knew of our trysts – certainly I'd never told anyone and there was no one around when we'd played. Maybe Donny had – I dunno. Either way, Scott knew. At least he knew something had happened. The moment he brought it up, I stopped short. I mean, he was right. I hadn't even thought about that experience while trying to talk to Scott, it was so meaningless. But again, not to him. He knew instantly I had held it back, even though I'd only done that because it was so forgettable. I wasn't actively trying to lie to him, I just didn't think of mentioning it.

"Well, that was it. If there was any trust, it was gone now. He just looked at me, said something like 'Well, if that's the way you want it to be, forget it'. Then he threw down a USB memory stick with a recording on it that I later listened to. Someone at the gym detailing one of my meetings with Donny. Apparently we'd not been as alone as I thought.

"I have never seen him in person again. He didn't show up for the divorce hearing, only his lawyer did. We split everything, and there were no kids, so that was that. Not many choices on my end. I learned from a friend of a friend that he'd moved to San Diego to start again. He moved as far as he could to get away from me and the memories here. I see pictures of him on Facebook occasionally, when mutual friends comment on them or something. He looks well, but I know he doesn't want to talk to me."

Brooklyn reached out and took Gina's hand. "I'm so sorry. How do you do it? How do you live day to day?"

Gina shrugged in a resigned fashion. "I moved on. You have to. You can't just lie in your own misery. It took a while, - to cope with being on my own. Finding my own place, dealing with all that shit, it takes your mind off everything. It's only once you are settled that the misery really takes over. I was lucky though. Mae found me, and helped me move on. I mean, don't get me wrong, I regret everything. Everything I did, the results, the catastrophic consequences. I really do, and this little group is not here to stop that. But what therapy, and Mae did for me was to help me move past it. It's part of me, and always will be, but at some point you have to put the 'Woe is me' bit aside and start living some life again.

"So I date, on occasion. And it's funny, because there's nothing so much as guaranteed to make you understand what it was you threw away than dating. All the good guys are married, gay or dead. Sometimes I meet someone decent, and we have fun, but I'm pathologically blocked from even allowing myself too much happiness. I think I'll just fuck it up again, and those guys, they don't deserve that.

"I come and hang out with Mae and Rhonda, who understand, and we try to provide some support and companionship for those who've made similar mistakes.

"I miss Scott, more than I can say. I miss who he is, who we were together, all the silly stuff we did. But I made my bed, and now I'm lying in it, and I'm trying to do the best I can with that. The best thing I can do is act as an example, and hope that one day I'll meet another Scott, and be at a place where I can allow myself to accept it," she said, with a sigh.

Brooklyn took a large sniff and impulsively reached out to Gina for a hug, which surprised Gina, but she took it anyway. Any touching was a good thing for Gina these days. She'd been surprised at how, once out of a relationship, she just missed human contact that wasn't either suspect or given freely with no thought of return.

"So, that's my story. It sucks and there's no happy ending, at least yet, but at least it proves that life goes on. Right, I need more coffee. Rhonda, you're up."

Gina got up, more to give herself a moment to deal with her impending tears than anything else.

Rhonda, desperate for a way to change the tension in the air, said spiritedly, "Well, fuck Gina. I loved the sex I had."

And just like that, Brooklyn and Mae smiled, and even Gina chuckled for a moment.

"So, what's your story?" asked Brooklyn, genuinely curious. She was starting to relax with these women, and not feel judged. She was among peers. A dubious peerage, no doubt, but peers nonetheless.

"Oh," said Rhonda, waving her hand and brushing off the question. "We – hubby and I – got involved in swinging. It was fun. It got out of hand. He kinda got left behind. That's pretty much it."

There was silence, and Mae, hot chocolate on her way to the mouth, just looked at Rhonda. Rhonda looked back, defiantly. Mae pursed her lips and was about to say something when Rhonda weakened.

"Oh, Ok," she whispered, looking disgustedly at the floor. "Fine. My story. OK."

"If you don't want to..." said Brooklyn, reaching her hand out to Rhonda.

"No, Mae is right. We should... we need to do this. It's just... hard. Like ripping off a band aid on a wound that hasn't completely healed."

The women waited while Rhonda gathered herself.

"Ok, so. Yes. Well, I'm Rhonda Frey. Finnish by birth and raising. I came to America for an exchange visit when I was 17, and I managed to get a place at the Northwestern University. So I got an education visa, and I stayed, and I LOVE this place. I love Chicago. I love America. I'm a citizen now, you know? I will never go back to Finland. The land of eternal sun half the year, and eternal dark the rest of it. It's cold and miserable.

"Here, you can be free and go from sun to snow in an hour. Beaches everywhere, plenty of stuff. It's great. And the men! Oh the men. I can ride a different cowboy every day!"

Everyone smile at that. Her enthusiasm was infectious.

"When I was in my last year of college – I was studying engineering, and let me tell you girls, if you want to be spoiled, engineering is the place to be. All those men and no choices for them. There just isn't that many hot female engineers. I know its mean to say, but I was Miss January, and February, and March. You get it! Anyway, when I was in the last year, I met Jocelyn. Oh I was so simple then. So small in my mind. But he, Jocelyn, he was so worldly. So knowledgeable. So able to be comfortable anywhere. He was a man of the world, and I was along for the ride. It was great. His parents had money, and he had a trust. He wasn't uber rich, but he wasn't worried about his next paycheck either.

"He was a connector. It was a weird thing. He didn't so much make deals as put people together whowouldmake the deals. And he he'd get a part of the action for the introductions. His family is well known in Chicagoland, and he had access to everyone. And he could do it across social lines. He was as comfortable in a bar in the south side as he was at Fleming's steakhouse.

"And he took me with him. It was exhilarating. I met him at a fundraiser at the college – having a pretty engineering student was never a bad thing and from the moment we met, we had a connection. I learned so much from him. My world – and my brain – expanded. It was a whirlwind romance. Just like in the movies!

"He was good to me. Kind. Took time to explain all the things I didn't know about this country. Well, I'm sure you can see where this was going. We were married ten months to the day from when we met. My parents came from Finland, and hated America on sight. But they smiled and beared it for me."

"Bore it," interjected Gina, smiling.

"What?" asked Rhonda.

"It's 'bore it'. Past tense. Not 'beared it'. Sorry. English teacher. Can't help it."

Rhonda just stared at Gina for a moment too long, and then carried on.

"Yes, they 'bore it' for me." She used her fingers to make quotation marks. Gina raised her coffee and smiled, saluting her.

"Thirteen years of being in this country, and she still has to correct me." Rhonda rolled her eyes. Gina's smile got even wider.

"Anyway," Rhonda said, acidly, "We were married. It was good. Great sex. Hot tub in the house. Lots of being nude, which is the way to be. I had a couple of kids, like a good wifey should. We have a boy, Xander and a girl, Leena.

"We were raising them in proper ways. You Americans are all such prudes about nudity. All that fuss about one nipple on a football halftime show, but it's ok for people to be beheaded in prime time TV shows? Such hypocrisy. So Joss and I went the opposite. Our kids saw us naked and we taught them it was natural, like we did back home. We did our best to not impose on them all this stupid religious morality this country has so much of.

"It was all great for about four or five years. And then it all started to slow down. You know how it is. Kids get in the way of everything. I love my kids, but it was like I was living their lives, not mine. Joss and I slowed down on the sex, he had more things going on and was traveling for a big deal he was organizing."

Brooklyn bit her lip, looking at Rhonda. Rhonda noticed and responded indignantly.

"No, it's not like that. I didn't fall into someone else's bed while he was away working. He came home, the deal got done and then we talked. I meanreallytalked. About what we wanted, how our lives were not that exciting. We could talk, you know? When we wanted to. We both recognized that life wasn't quite so exciting, and we both wanted to address that. So we talked to each other."

Rhonda stared off into space for a moment, with a wistful expression on her face. After a moment, she shook it off and carried on.

"Anyway, we wanted to bring some excitement back into our lives. So we started talking about fantasies. I mean, I knew some of his, but I don't think Taylor Swift was ever going to fuck him. We started talking about our relationship, how strong it was, and what we might be able to do and still be ok with each other. I know he wanted a threesome with another woman – I mean, don't they all, right?"