Love Thy Enemy

As soon as Shela returned from her "business" trip, she'd hired one of the best cut-throat legal bitches that money could buy, Wanda Kimmer. Horror stories abounded as to the viciousness and proficiency of this she-shark in court. Rumor had it that most other divorce attorneys, once they discovered they'd be arguing against Kimmer, refused to take the opposing side. Thankfully my own attorney was another sharp fanged out-of-water predator and relished the idea of going up against Kimmer. But, a month after I arrived in France, Shela unexpectedly dropped her attorney and began to call mine. I don't know what changed in her life, but I was set to move forward with mine. Without Shela.

~N~

I awoke from another nightmare. They were coming with greater frequency and becoming more vivid. They differed in detail but the plot was the same one, over and over.

I was in a hotel room, and John, or some other faceless hard body, is laying next to me in bed, when the door or window or even the wall bursts open and Joe, my Joe, my husband, walks in with a happy content look on his face, and somehow he's carrying everything in his arms that we'd achieved and accumulated in our marriage. Joe smiles at me until he notices what I'm doing. I try to jump out of the bed, but my arms and legs are either bound to the bed with my bra and undies or they are shackled by heavy chains to the floor and wall, and that bruise and cut my limbs. I cry out to him as I see his face go from surprise, to dismay, to anguish and then to raw fury. All the while, the man has climbed atop me, and begins moving in and out like clockwork, ignoring me and Joe. His sole intent is to keep fucking me, only now it feels like he's using a long razor sharp knife, tearing me open from the inside out. I feel the blood pouring out of me and I feel myself dying, and I don't care. All I see and care about is Joe. As his expressions go through the different changes, all those special wonderful things in his arms begin to disappear, until all I see is the rage in his eyes and his bare arms shaking with unbridled emotion. I call out to him, over and over, but he stares at me with blind eyes, and disappears. Next, I'm alone in the hotel room, not even my boy toy is there. All I feel is that a part of me was cut out and which I now miss so terribly.

I awaken crying after every dream. Hoping, wishing that my life was just a dream and that I would wake and Joe would be laying next to me, his snoring, once annoying, soothing me with the comfort of his sleeping presence.

The day I discovered my horrible mistake, at that moment, I fainted right on the sidewalk. When I saw and heard who the man was, I was overcome with the guilt of my betrayal and the agony of knowing how deeply I'd hurt the man I love and who loved me. When I came to I was in Amber's office, Joe's cousin, Hank, and his wife, were quietly talking. Amber was no where to be seen. I sat up and the two people I most desperately didn't want to see, looked at me. What I saw in their eyes almost made me want to rejoin the blackness. It was pity.

"Welcome back. Here, drink this." the woman urged as she handed me a glass of water.

I dumbly took the glass and sipped at it, then a sudden unbearable thirst came upon me and I gulped the water down in one long swallow. The woman gave me a slight smile and asked if I wanted more water. I guess I nodded my head for she went off to refill the glass.

Hank Pleasant looked at me. His eyes held a questioning look in them. I knew what he wondered about, and that made me feel all the worse for it. I had accused my husband of something he had never done and then mistakenly blamed another for it. I felt lower than low. I just wished I could die. Oh, my God! JOE! I needed to call Joe! I needed to explain! I didn't know how I could explain it so that he wouldn't kill me. Not after what I'd done, but I had to. I just had to!

"We brought you into your friend's office after you fainted. As I happen to be a doctor, a real doctor, not a PhD, I checked for injury...head trauma and the like. I think you're fine. However, you might have a slight concussion and I recommend you going to the hospital and having them take X-rays. You did hit your head on the sidewalk rather solidly." explained Joe's cousin.

Other than having a bad headache and a "I just died and woke up in hell" feeling, I was okay.

"Thank you. But, I think I'll live." I paused as a look of slight annoyance crossed his features. "Really, if I feel worse or something, I'll go to the hospital."

The blond woman returned at that time...His wife! My God! What have I done?

"Here you go. Drink it slowly. Otherwise, you might upset your stomach." said Hank's wife as she handed me the refilled glass.

I sipped at it, taking my time. I needed the time to clear my mind and figure out what I could do to salvage my marriage...Whatever was left of it.

I didn't have the slightest idea what I could tell Joe to explain my infidelity. He never cared for Amber, and if I mentioned it was Amber who "clued" me in about what was going on, even if it was mistaken identity, I knew I'd only make things worse. Oh, god! No! I had told my family, his family, and mutual friends that Joe had cheated! What was I going to tell them now!?!

In another foolish try at punishing Joe, I'd told everyone how Joe had cheated on me. I never told them what I'd done in return. Now...

"Are you okay?" asked Hank's wife, her tone tinged with concern. I guess my face must have reflected my thoughts.

"No. I'm not. I made a huge mistake. And..." I couldn't continue. Instead I began to cry. I couldn't help it. I felt so lost and so uncertain.

Someone put their arm around me and held me. I couldn't tell who it was since my eyes were squeezed tightly shut as I tried to stifle my tears.

"It's okay, Shela. I'm here. I feel so bad. I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am. It's all my fault."

It was my friend Amber. I felt a rise of anger and hatred for her. Yes, it was all her fault. She...NO! She didn't tell me to do what I did to exact revenge. She counseled against it! She tried to talk me out of it. She was even mildly disgusted by it. But, I knew better. I was going for the kill. And all I did was kill my marriage over a mistake that would have been nothing if I hadn't gone to bed with another man and sent that damned video to Joe. Joe and I would have ended up joking about the mix-up. Perhaps remembering it amusingly well into our old age. Not anymore. Unless I could get Joe to listen to me. To give me a chance to somehow make it right. The thing is, I had no idea how to do any of that. I didn't even know where he had moved to.

The hopelessness I felt, reached out and pulled the plug that was holding my emotions in check and I began to sob like a forlorn soul.

I don't how long my best friend held me, but finally my eyes stopped the waterfall and although my heart ached and my stomach threatened to return what I'd drank, I knew I had to find Joe and beg him to forgive me.

"I'm better now, Amber. Thanks for helping me." I said to my best friend, grateful for her caring presence.

I saw her face was wet and for a moment I thought my tears had dripped on to her, but then I noticed her eyes were red and swollen. She had been crying, too!

"I'm so sorry, Shela. I...I...fucked up. I ruined your marriage. Please forgive me."

I patted her shoulder and I felt something fill me. My friend was taking all the blame and asking me to forgive her for MY mistake.

"Oh, no Amber. You didn't do anything. I did it. You tried to warn me. You tried to stop me. No person could ask for a better friend. There is nothing to forgive."

Amber gave me a surprised but grateful look, then slowly nodded. "I still feel horrible. If I hadn't of told you about what I'd seen, you'd still be a happily married woman. I'm partially to blame."

I hugged her. I looked around and saw that Hank and his wife had left.

"Where did Joe's cousin go?"

Amber dropped her arms from around me and stood. "They had to get back to their clinic, but they gave me their card, saying to call if you needed anything." Amber reached for something on her desk and handed it to me.

I took the proffered business card and looked at it. It had a logo and the name "Pleasent Clinic of New York" with their names, Hank and Rita Pleasant, Mds. Along with their clinic address, phone number, fax, and email address.

I'd met several members of Joe's family through the years Joe and I'd been married, but I never met that particular family member. It was uncanny how alike they looked. If it hadn't been for those slight differences, I wouldn't have believed it wasn't Joe.

And that reminded me I had to find Joe and talk to him. I didn't know if he would forgive me, probably not, but I had to try. If I hadn't been so sure of the pictures I'd seen and allowed my common sense to leave me, I'd have reacted a lot better than I did. But, when I saw the photos of Hank and his wife, taken by Amber, thinking it was Joe, I lost it. I felt the woman betrayed, mislead, lied to, but most of all, humiliated. I'd raved about Joe to my family and friends, especially Amber, for years. And when Amber had seen Hank, and taken those photos, I could see my humiliation in her eyes.

I was a woman scorned and I have a terrible temper. Woe to me.

The saddest part is I couldn't blame anyone but myself. I felt some anger towards Amber, but it wasn't her mistake. Sure she had seen Joe plenty of times to know what he looked like, but I couldn't blame her when she thought Hank was Joe. They looked so much alike. I too was fooled by the photos and video she took of Hank with his wife, Rita.

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, then looked up at Amber.

"Amber, I need your help. I know you and Joe haven't see eye to eye, but I need to find him. And somehow get him to talk to me. I hate to ask you, but when I find him, I might need you as a go between. Will you do it?"

Amber sat back down without saying a word. Her eyes seemed out of focus as she listened. Still with that far off look, she asked, "Do you know why I have never liked Joe?"

I didn't know why she would ask such a strange question at this time, but I stayed silent, shaking my head no.

Amber's eyes refocused and when she looked at me there was a burning intensity in them.

"When we met Joe and his friend, Mark, we double dated for awhile. You remember?"

I nodded.

"I didn't tell you this before, but his friend pawed me each time you and Joe left us alone. It wasn't a one time thing, every time we got together he was all over me. And when I refused his advances, no matter where we were, he would leave me to go find someone easy. Until, finally, I stopped going out with you guys. That put an end to that."

Shocked at this revelation, I asked Amber why she didn't tell me all this before.

Amber drew a deep breath, perhaps to steel herself. "I was going to, but then you and Joe got serious, and I didn't have the heart to spoil the happiness you had with Joe. But... I had such a bad experience during that time that it left a bad impression about Joe and I thought he was the same kind of guy as his friend. Thinking it was just a matter of time before he showed his true colors to you, too. So I waited patiently for the other shoe to drop. It never did, or at least where I knew about it. All these years I really thought Joe was cheating behind your back."

I stared at my best friend with something akin to shock. "Why would you think that, Amber?"

Amber dropped her head, watching her hands clasp and unclasp, then looked back up. "There were signs here and there that seemed to indicate he was. Cheating, I mean. You remember the night of that party five years ago, where Joe and I had it out?"

I remembered that night. I was so pissed at Joe for fighting with Amber and embarrassing me in front of all my friends that I wouldn't let him touch me for two weeks. Joe tried to explain what had happened, but each time he started, I either told him to shut up or simply walked away from him. He finally gave in and dropped it. But not before I'd made sure I would not tolerate him fighting with my friends.

"Yes, I remember." With a slight trembling of my voice, I asked, "Why? What does it have to do with..." But I couldn't finish. Was Amber trying to tell me Joe had cheated on me, or tried to? I felt my anger beginning to rise again. I tried to squash it, to no avail. I grit my teeth instead.

"I saw him with Donna Higgins a little earlier that night. I didn't hear what they were talking about, but her actions were obvious as to what both wanted. She had her arm draped around his neck and he had her by the shoulders. Before I could get to them, she left, so I confronted Joe about it. You know me, I kind of lose it when I see bad going on. In seconds I accused Joe of trying to fuck Donna. I suppose he denied it. I don't remember his exact words, but whatever he said, just pissed me off and I slapped him."

Amber stopped talking and drew a deep breath. "You have to understand, Shell, I thought he was going behind your back. I should have come to get you. To let you deal with it. But...But, you're my best friend and I still had it in my mind that Joe would cheat on you."

I never knew exactly what had caused the blow up. I had simply blamed Joe because I knew how he felt about Amber. He even had a nick name for her which I hated, "Arctic". According to Joe, it stood for "Amber, Righteous Cold Titted Cunt". So all this was news to me and I wondered if Amber had been right all along.

"And...Was he...Was he trying to get into Donna's panties?"

Amber shook her head sorrowfully. "Days later I ran into Donna and I spoke to her about it. She said she'd had too much to drink and she tripped, and was about to fall into some thorn bushes, when out of nowhere Joe came along, grabbed her and saved her from getting hurt. She was trying to thank him, in her own way, when I saw them." Amber smirked at how Donna would thank any man. "But he wouldn't go for it and was trying to make sure she was okay before he left her. After talking to Donna, I felt so bad about the slap. The fight. But, I couldn't go to you, and especially Joe, and admit I was wrong."

"Oh, Amber. I wish you had told me what had happened. I blamed Joe for it. I know he 's had issues with you, so I thought he started the fight."

At the thought of Joe, I began to tear up, again. I'd wronged him by fucking John, but apparently, I'd been wronging him long before then.

Taking a deep breath, I stood up. "I have to go make some things right before I talk to Joe. I said some horrible untruthful things to many people. I have to go explain...Anyway, I'll see you later, Amber."

"Okay, I'll help you. If you still want me too." Amber said to my back before I walked out of her office.

~N~

One of the most difficult things to do is trying to second guess people's motivates for what they say and do.

It was a solemn start of the week the Monday after Bergit and I had worked all weekend to finish a projected financial analysis for one of our largest clients.

Bergit and I had become friends, not just at work but outside of work, too. We were both foreigners working in France, and as we become friendlier we discussed our personal interests, discovering we had many of those in common as well. I have to stress that on my part I viewed Bergit as a no more than a friend. Maybe, even a good friend, but without the benefits that some good friends share.

I live fairly close to the office –a ten minute walk-- while Bergit lives about forty minutes away by train. To ease her time and to hasten our weekend schedule I offered her the spare bedroom at my place. It made sense to me, and Bergit jumped at the idea with a fair amount of excitement, which was an unusual reaction for her. So for the next two evenings, beginning Friday, we stopped to eat dinner and then off to my place to rest for the next day.

Bregit kept a couple of changes of clothing in her office. With the unpredictability of the weather in Paris, you never knew when a rain shower would catch a person and soak them. Carrying an umbrella all the time while lugging large cases and boxes wasn't practical either. And you didn't want to meet with a client while looking like a drowned rat. Many of the employees kept a change of clothing handy. Thus clean clothing wasn't an issue, plus I had a washer and dryer -on my insistence.

It was Sunday evening, we had finally finished the analysis and had eaten, and were talking at my place. We somehow came around to the topic of our respective relationships.

"Joesph, you never mention your wife. Why is that?" Bregit asked while sipping her wine.

I shrugged my shoulders, and made some idle comment about being separated.

She raised her left eyebrow, leaned forward and asked with unabashed curiosity, "Why are you separated?"

I hesitated before answering, trying to determine if I could hold my emotions in check while talking about what had happened. I didn't feel much of anything about Shela now, so I thought why the hell not. The only one who knew the entire story was my attorney. And, I was curious to get a uninvolved woman's point of view.

I told her my story. While I related everything to her, she asked a question here and there to clarify something. For the most part she listened. And listened attentively, like it was the sole most important thing for her to do. After I finished, she looked at me and she had the saddest look I'd ever seen on a person. I think she felt sadder than I had at my lowest point. It made me feel like a heel that I'd made her feel so bad.

Setting that feeling aside, I looked away from her to sip my wine, saying, "There you have it, Bregit. Not a very interesting story of itself. It's just another cheating spouse. I'm getting over it." Looking at her inquiringly, I asked her, almost nonchalantly, "But, I would like to know how you see it."

Bregit appeared to be a little uncomfortable at my request. She nervously played with her wine glass as she stared off somewhere, some place I was not privy to.

I saw Bregit's expression change as she focused on me again, she looked like she had reached some sort of decision. Her eyes searched my face before responding, "I think your wife made a very big mistake. I've not known you for so long, Joesph, but what I do know, I don't feel you are the quality of man to cheat on his wife. Perhaps, she does think you cheated- although revenge is never worthwhile, I can understand the motivation behind such revenge. Love is very strong, also very weak. It is joyful and inspiring, also sad and depressing. Love is a very great inducement, urging us to do things we would not normally act out. Including revenge. Yes?"

I thought about what she had just said, I didn't quite get her reasoning. How could true love, the eternal love alluded to and praised by poets, be the catalyst of such great betrayal?

"I don't know about that, Bregit. Admittedly, revenge is a harsh word and it does conjure up some outrageous conceptions, however, retribution- or as we Americans say, payback -can be quite satisfying."

Bregit mouthed something wordlessly, before saying, with the innocent wonder of a child's glee. "Payback. Pay-eee...Back! I like the sound of that word. There is a power to it. Payback!" Smiling with both her eyes and her lips, she added, "You Americans are very inventive with the English language, Joesph."

I returned her smile, then, somewhat regretfully, returned the conversation to the main discussion, "What do you mean when you say revenge is caused by love?" I spoke more brusquely than I had intended to and it affected my guest.

She looked away from me, her smile disappearing. "Perhaps, I- I explain- wrongly?" she said uncertainly. The few times Bregit had become flustered at work, her English would become strained, dropping conjunctions and forgetting participles. As it was happening as she tried to backtrack.