Imbalance Pt. 02

"Frank, don't start..."

I felt the urge to apologize, but then I didn't. What was I apologizing for? Speaking the truth? My intent wasn't to hurt her, but it didn't make what I said any less true.

"Just help me understand Claire. Was I really that bad? Bad enough for you to stop loving me? You really feel nothing about this? You don't feel bad at all?"

"Are you really asking me if I feel bad? OF COURSE I DO! I feel like shit every time I think about it! All of the plans that we had. All of the memories. I feel like a failure! On top of that, we aren't going to be able to hide this from the girls forever. One day, and very soon, we are going to have to tell them what is going on. And it will crush them! I feel bad that we are going to break their hearts, and it was MY decision that put it in motion."

"So why? Why did you do it?"

Tears were forming in her eyes as she looked up at the ceiling with her hands on her hips. "Because I got lonely Frank. Plain and simple. I live in this big house, I have all of the latest clothes, I drive a fancy car, and I'm MISERABLE! All I wanted was a little time from you. That's all. Just small tokens of appreciation to let me know that I mattered. But apparently, I was worthless. I was so undesirable that my husband made time for everything else BUT me."

"And Doug does all of that for you?"

She nodded in acknowledgement. "Yes. He does make me feel desirable. He texts me to see how I'm doing. He sends me flowers. He likes being around me. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. But I did want to. I had to know. I had to understand what he gave her that I didn't. Now I did.

"Well, as soon as I'm out of the way the two of you can be together. You can ride off into the fucking sunset, hand in hand!"

"Don't do this Frank. What's done is done. Going down this road is only going to lead to more pain."

I had to laugh at that, even though it was the farthest thing from funny a statement could get.

"Are you serious? You are seriously trying to tell me not to go down this road because it will lead to more pain. You do realize that this road that I'm going down is one that YOU set us on, right?"

Her nose flared, and her eyes narrowed. She poked me in the chest and said, "In case you forgot, you neglected me first."

I couldn't hold it in anymore. I couldn't swallow the bile any more.

"You know what Claire? I'm so fucking sick of you singing that same sad tune! In case YOU forgot, YOU CHEATED ON ME WITH MY BEST FRIEND! Do you think anything I did justifies that? Do you really think that I deserved that kind of pain?"

She didn't have a response to that, which actually boded well for her. Only a complete sociopath would have answered that question with another defense. I wasn't done yet.

"I had a real eye opener tonight Claire. Tonight I came face to face with my choices. I see how I played a part in where we are. But you sit back, crying about the big bad husband who worked too much, and you completely ignore what you brought to this. Tell me, did you once suggest that we go to counseling? Did you do ANYTHING to try to fix this?"

"I came to you Frank! And you ignored me!"

"So, what was your next step? Huh Claire? Because here is my thinking. My logic, if you will. When you have a project that isn't going the way you want it to go, you think of a next step. If the project is worth saving, and you believe in it, then you seek alternative options to saving it. Bringing in a fresh set of eyes to see if there is anything you missed is the preferable choice. Or, you can scrap it altogether and start working on a new project. One that is more worthwhile. Because the old project just isn't worth the headache. So, my question to you is, what was your next step?"

"You would use an engineering analogy. That's all you're capable of thinking about." She said with a sneer. However, her eyes were transparent. I knew I hit pay dirt. Even she couldn't deny the logic to what I said. Her ploy at misdirection was feeble.

"It's an analogy that fits, and you know it. If this marriage was so important to you, why didn't you change tactics? Why didn't you get a fresh set of eyes? Why didn't you suggest we go to counseling?"

She immediately got defensive. "You didn't suggest counseling either!"

"I wasn't the one who was dissatisfied! I thought we were okay. Maybe I was naïve, or not paying attention, but I didn't see our marriage on a path to destruction. If I did, I would have tried to fix it. Because to me, our marriage was a project worth saving. But you..."

I took a moment to look at her before finishing. I couldn't stop my face from forming the disgusted expression that came over it. Nor did I want to. "You saw our marriage heading over a cliff, and you watched it from afar. You let it dangle there. Then, you walked over and pushed it off. Now you want to sit here and pretend that you did everything you could to save it. Like you had no other choice. But that shit ain't flying Claire! YOU SLEPT WITH MY BEST FRIEND! You not only had an affair, but you did it with the ONE person that would hurt me the most. You could have found ANYBODY ELSE to fuck. But you chose Doug. No part of you felt that this boundary was off limits. The two of you decided that my feelings no longer mattered. And you want to sit back and try to make what you did okay?"

By now the tears were free flowing down her face. But she still didn't have a response. We both just stood there in frustrated silence. Alone. In the same room, but separated by an impassible chasm created by years of neglect, apathy, and bad choices.

"What do you want me to say Frank? You're right? I'm sorry? Would that make you feel better? Huh?"

Another misdirection ploy. Make it about my ego. My need to punish her. But I wasn't letting her off that easily.

"You quit trying Claire. You gave up on our marriage. You need to own that. That was your choice."

"You left me nothing to fight for." She finally whispered between sobs. I couldn't do this anymore. I was mentally and physically drained.

"I'm tired Claire. I'm going to bed." With that I went into my office and closed the door behind me.

***

A couple of weeks after that conversation took place, the papers arrived. Signed, sealed, delivered. It was official. My marriage was over.

The divorce was pretty amicable. I don't mean to understate the pain that went into actually sitting with the lawyers and dividing assets, but dwelling on it won't make the story any more interesting.

I was told by both lawyers that it was a fair divorce, though I would whole heartedly disagree. Sure, all of our MATERIAL things were split pretty fairly (except the house, which she got because she had primary custody of the kids), but it seemed like I got the lion's share of the emotional baggage. On top of that, she received monthly child support and spousal support from me. I agreed with the child support, but to pay spousal support to the woman who voluntarily split the family up seemed like a kick in the nuts. But there was no way around it. That's the beauty of No Fault Divorce. My only consolation was that it would have been way more if Mike wasn't there. The first proposal was 2/3^rds of my paycheck!

Was I able to live on what was left over? Sure. I did make a lot of money. I had a fair share of investments and other assets. I was successful in hiding some of those assets from her lawyer, so I wasn't the stereotypical divorced husband who has to live like a pauper. Still, I would have liked for her to experience a little more discomfort for her choices.

I also thought about my girls. I had to question the wisdom behind the choice to shield them from the impending doom by pretending that nothing was different. Why we made that choice is beyond me. Now, we could no longer hide it from them. Instead of preparing them ahead of time and getting them used to the idea, we were left with the task of suddenly pulling the rug out from under them.

As much as I would like to claim benevolent love as the reason for keeping the real situation of my marriage a secret from the kids, I can't. At this point in my life, I was done hiding my failures behind the thin veil of selfless acts gone wrong. Pretending that my bad decisions were done out of a misguided attempt to protect the ones I cared about. I did it because I was a coward. Point blank. Claire had her reason (probably the same one as I,) but I wasn't going to determine my course of actions by what she admits to herself. She seems to have a high aptitude for self-rationalization, and I couldn't allow myself to be caught in it anymore.

Tomorrow's man is made by the choices you make today.

That was something my dad used to say to me. I was a teenager at the time with a mind full of the things I was denied in life, so I never really stopped the think about what that meant. Now, those words were my new lease on life.

What kind of man did I want to be tomorrow? The man I am today is due to the choice I made yesterday to put work above my family. If I don't like that man, then I have to make choice to change him for tomorrow.

I wanted to be a good dad. I also wanted to be successful. Who says I couldn't have both? I didn't have to create such an imbalance in my life that only left room for one or the other. Why couldn't I kill it at work, and then come home to my daughters, leaving work behind?

So I did what I do best. I drew up a plan. An algorithm for my life. Believe it or not, math can solve about 90% of the problems we face in life. Of course, an engineer would think that. But in this case, math was the key. If the problem that you are facing is balance, then isn't there an equation that could solve that?

24 hours in a day. 7 days a week. That is 168 hours. I was accustomed to spending 80 of those hours at work. That only left 88 hours for EVERYTHING ELSE. My family had to share those 88 hours with all of the other shit that I had to deal with, including sleep. How had I not seen this before?

So I used simple math to determine the man that I wanted to be. And it took all of 20 minutes.

I would earn my daughter's love and affection. They gave it no matter what I did. I owed it to them to be worthy of it.

***

I heard sniffling coming from the room that I used to share with my ex-wife. The door was opened a crack, so all I had to do was give it a slight nudge. I saw Claire laying on her stomach in the middle of the king-sized bed we once slept on together. Once upon a time. Above her head was her copy of the unfolded document that I'd read only a few hours ago.

Her hands were covering her face. Her body shook as she sobbed. I wanted to talk to her about where we go from here, but now was not the time.

Did I feel vindicated that she finally showed some sort of emotion over the loss of our marriage? No. I actually felt bad for her. For me, the blow wasn't as deep as it once was. I'd been dealing with the fact that it was over for a while now. Ever since she called out Doug's name in orgasm, I'd been wrestling with the task of letting go.

She'd been protected. Doug kept her occupied enough so that she didn't really have to dwell on it. The marriage ending was tomorrow's problem in her eyes. Today, she got to enjoy what she'd been missing while she wasted her years on me.

However, all dreams come to an end. Reality always catches up with you. Before her was a tangible item for the choices that she made. It was in black and white. And it had her signature. She couldn't deny it anymore.

I lightly closed the door and let her have her moment of grief. She was going to need it. From here things got a little harder. We still had to tell the girls. I wasn't looking forward to that, so I could imagine what she must be going through.

I needed something. Something to distract me, even for the moment. Something beautiful. And I knew exactly what it was. Or rather, who it was.

Ever since that day at the club with Terry, I'd not been able to stop thinking about her. Starlet. I don't know why. If I believed Terry, she was a prostitute. Someone who fucked countless men for money. Not an honorable woman.

Yet, I felt something with her. A connection. The way she looked at me. Talked to me. Flirted with me. I can't explain it. But I wanted to feel that again.

So I got in my car and drove. About 20 minutes later, I was pulling into the parking lot of SAL'S GENTLEMEN'S LOUNGE.

When I got inside, I was met by cigarette smoke, the smell of beer, and the vision of dozens of near naked women. But I was only looking for one.

"Welcome to Sal's. How can I help you, sweetie?" A beautiful girl said as she greeted me. Even with the makeup, she looked barely old enough to drink. As pretty as she was, she wasn't what I wanted.

"Um, yes. I was actually looking for someone. Is Starlet here?"

The girls smile never left her face, but it faded from her eyes.

"Yeah, she's here. Who do I tell her is waiting for her?"

I was embarrassed. There was no way she would remember me. She had to give dozens of lap dances a day. But I gave my name anyway.

"Um, my name is Frank. She's not expecting me or anything. I was just wondering if she was available."

"Okay hun. Take a seat at that table right there. I'll see if she's not busy."

The young woman left to search for Starlet, and I took a seat at the indicated table. A scantily clad waitress approached me to take my drink order, and then left to go fill it. Both Starlet and my drink arrived at the same time.

"Hey Frank. I'm Starlet. Jessie said that you were asking for me?" she said as she approached. Even though I expected it, I was kind of disappointed when I didn't see any recognition in her eyes. It had been about 4 months since I came here. She'd probably seen hundreds of faces between then and now.

Still, there is a desire in all of us to be special. To stand out above the rest. There are thousands of romantic books and movies that feature that one moment when two people make an unexplainable connection amidst all of the distractions that surround them.

In each of us lives that fantasy. The famous singer pointing to the beautiful fan and pulling her onstage; the high school nerd who finally gets the attention of the popular cheerleader, or the rich prince who hides his royalty status and falls for the nobody girl. All of these are common themes in our imaginary scenarios. As unrealistic as they are, we always want to believe the promise that we stand out from the rest.

"Hey Starlet. I know you don't remember me. I came in here a few months ago with a friend of mine. I was feeling really down that day, and you gave me a few dances. It made me feel better."

She smiled broadly at that and sat down in the seat opposite of me. "I'm glad to hear that. Would you like another dance now? I just happen to be free."

Those eyes looked through me, like they'd done that night. Transfixed me. I would have committed murder for her in that moment. Luckily, the only thing she wanted from me was a lap to grind on.

"I'd like that."

With that she stood up and held out her hand, indicating that she wanted me to take it. When I did, she interlaced our fingers and she led me through the club.

"Do you wanna stay out here in the open area, or should we go somewhere more private?" she asked. Once again, those eyes looked at me, like they were seeing through me. I turned away. It was like looking into the sun.

"Private." My voice croaked. She nodded and led me to a corner.

"Um, I was hoping to go to the Champagne Room." I said, once again finding it hard to speak. She stopped walking.

"The Champagne Room isn't cheap. You sure that's what you want?" I gulped and nodded, wondering if she were talking about the actual room, or what I imagined went on in there. It didn't matter. I was willing to pay for both.

"Okay sweetie. Come with me." She said as she led me to the stairs. Before she went up she stopped and turned suddenly, giving me a coy look. "I remember you now! You're Terry's friend! Came in here because you were having problems with your wife. Cherry boy."

I laughed at that. "Yeah, that's me. Cherry boy."

"Well, I'm glad you came back to see me Frank. You never forget your first, do you? Now, let's go upstairs. I don't have to tell you where I want your eyes, do I?"

"Trust me. I will not offend you."

"You better not." She giggled.

Once we were up the stairs, she led me to a private corner. I found myself getting nervous. I didn't know what to expect. Was I going to get laid? Was she expecting to just do a lap dance? How do I even ask?

"So Frank. What is it that you want?" She asked, as if she saw my dilemma and gave me the opening that I needed. I gulped.

"I don't know." I said honestly.

She sat me down and straddled me, just as she did the last time. Then she bent low until her mouth was right next to my ear.

"Did you want a lap dance, or something else?" she whispered, her breath dancing on my neck as she spoke. Her arms wrapped around me and her hands rubbed my head softly. The scent of flowers and sex once again filled my nostrils.

"I want you."

She moaned as she grinded her pelvis into me, across my achingly hard erection. I was lost. She owned my eyes and ears at that moment. Nothing else mattered.

"What do you want to do to me baby?" she asked, sending me over the edge of sanity.

"I want...I want to fuck you." I said finally. She stopped grinding and sat up, looking me in my eyes and smiling.

"Okay. I wanted you to say it to make sure you weren't a cop. If you want to fuck me, then you are gonna have to do a couple of things first."

"What kind of things?"

"First, you're gonna have to get a room. And not a cheap one. If you want a back alley hooker, then you need to leave. I won't fuck you here in the middle of this room. It's a liability for the club, and it's just trashy. When I get off of work at two, you can pick me up outside the club and take me your room."

"What's the other thing?"

"Pay me $300."

***

That is precisely what happened. I got a room down by the beach. It had a balcony that looked out into the ocean. It was the peak time - close to summer - so it was $350 a night.

I didn't know what she meant by "not a cheap room" so I went for one that I knew would qualify. It wasn't expensive enough to be appearing to show off my money, but it definitely wasn't some hole in the wall "No Tell Motel".

She strolled out of the club at about 2:30. She looked around and spotted me by my car. As she walked over to me, I was struck by how different she looked.

She was still a sexy bombshell. Don't get me wrong. Her ankles rose up out of her heels and turned into shapely legs. Those legs went on for days, disappearing under a pair of white shorts. Above the shorts, her midriff showed a toned stomach with a belly button ring. Her tits jut out of her form fitting tank top that barely made it to her navel.

Like I said, sexy as hell. But she was more...real. The Starlet in the club was the perfect sex bot. Everything about her screamed "fuck me". But this woman walking over to my car was just a girl. Her face was devoid of all of the over the top stripper make up. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail that bounced when she walked. She even had on a pair of glasses.

"Hey Frank. I almost didn't expect you to show up." She said when she made it over to me. Her smile was spread across her face. But something was missing in it.

I guided her over to the passenger side of my car and opened the door for her. She very smoothly stepped inside of the car and sat down.