Making an Honest Woman Ch. 03

Ellen was crying too, now. Dr. Drake spoke. "Don't jump to a conclusion. There may be an explanation-"

I said, "There's no explanation I can accept. A few weeks ago, if I'd heard this, I would have laughed at it. There's no way I'd have believed that she could do this. Now, with a solid account from someone with no reason to lie, I have to believe that she did. I may never know for certain, if she continues to deny it. I will say that, even if she continues to deny it to me, I think she should be honest with you, for her own sake."

Dr. Drake said, "Ellen?"

Ellen blew her nose, then looked up at me. "What is there to say? He won't believe me. Is the truth what you believe, Dan? Or is it possible that the truth is more complicated?"

"The truth is always complicated," I said.

"What if I told you that it was me, but it wasn't?"

"I'd ask you to clarify; to explain how it both was and wasn't you."

"It was me. I had an affair with another man, before Rob. It lasted for about a month. I met him a few times in hotel rooms."

"How was it not you?" I asked.

"It was not me, because I wasn't me when I was with him. I'm only me when I'm with you, and the girls. I could be different with him, because there was no history, he had no memory or expectations."

"And you don't think that keeping a part of yourself separate from me-and the girls-and lying in order to maintain that separation . . . don't you realize how wrong that is? Yes, everyone has secrets, and we all tell lies, on occasion, but this is just so . . . it's huge. Don't you see that? Help me out here, Dr. Drake. Is this normal? Is this something that happily married people do?"

She cleared her throat. "I would say that this sort of behavior is probably a symptom, the result of your wife's attempt to deal with a problem that she couldn't fully recognize or understand, because its origin and causes are hidden from her. I would counsel you that the fact that she has a problem does not necessarily mean that your marriage is unsound, and that, in fact, she has insisted to me, and I believe her, that she loves you very much."

"So," I said, "you're saying that if I divorce her, then I'm an asshole, because then I've abandoned her instead of supporting her. That's just fucking great. She goes and has fun with who knows how many other men, while I stay at home to babysit, but it's okay, she's not a bad person, because she has a 'problem.'"

"I wouldn't say you're an asshole," she said. "You have every right and reason to be angry. Illness, both physical and mental, is never fair. If Ellen had an aggressive form of cancer-of the brain, say, that caused her personality to change-you would surely be angry as a result of the undeserved change in her. But you wouldn't abandon her."

"Maybe not, but would I still love her? My loyalty would not be to the person she had become, but rather to the person I had lost. If she were cured, but her personality remained changed, I think I probably would divorce her." I paused, but held up a hand to indicate that I wasn't finished. "Tell me this: assuming that you can figure out the underlying cause of her infidelity, and you and she work on addressing it, can you guarantee me that she would, eventually, be cured of the compulsion to cheat on me?"

"You know I can't guarantee anything," she said.

"Just stop it," said Ellen. "I've told you-I know now what it means to lose you. Before, I didn't-couldn't-let myself think about what might happen if you found out. I won't risk losing you again-"

"You have lost me," I said. "No, that's not right. You didn't lose me; you left me. You fucked this up. Maybe it was because you're sick, or damaged-who knows? But you knew it was wrong, and you didn't come to me for help, and you lied about it all to keep me dumb and happy."

"Dan, I may have left, but I came back. I haven't been with anyone but you since you found out about Rob. Nothing has changed. Yes, you found out a little piece of the past you didn't know about . . ." Here she trailed off, seeming to realize she'd made a mistake.

"A little piece, eh," I said. She was looking down again, afraid to face me. "Well, I'm not going to ask you for the whole puzzle. It wouldn't do either of us any good, and it won't change anything."

"It didn't affect you," she insisted. "I never brought it into our home, our relationship."

"Not so," I said. "How do you think I found out about your last lover?" I didn't want to use his name; it still grated on me to hear Ellen name him. "You were different with me, with us. You were bringing him home with you. You did get into bed with me, thinking about him. Nothing else accounts for the change."

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I thought I could control it. I thought I was controlling it. I never meant to hurt you, or to change anything about our relationship. It was just supposed to be something for me."

"And you needed that?"

"Needed?" she thought about it for a moment. "I don't know if I needed it, but I wanted it. I don't know why. I love you, and I love the girls, but the sameness is suffocating, sometimes-"

"On behalf of the girls and myself, I apologize for smothering you with so much tedious affection," I spat at her. "Luckily for you, your boring life is about to change, and you'll have a lot more freedom to 'be yourself' with as many other men as you want."

"I told you you wouldn't understand," she said.

"Oh, I understand," I said. "You want it all-the safety and security of a loving husband, and the excitement of a string of lovers with whom you can be whoever you want to be. And lying to me was the only way you could have both. And now I'm calling an end to it."

"Look," I said to Dr. Drake, "I told you at the beginning that, for me, the only way to save the marriage was to find a way for me to trust Ellen again. Since that time we've found out that she's been lying on a much grander scale than I thought. And I'm telling you both honestly that I can't accept that. I know that some other men could, but I'm not one of them." I looked at Ellen. "I guess I owe you the chance to find a man who doesn't mind being lied to; someone who'll take what you give him, and won't mind that you are saving something to give to someone else. If that's what it takes to make you happy, I hope you find it."

"And when you get lonely and horny in that little apartment of yours, and you're too proud to come back to me, I hope you end up screwing one of your graduate students," she hissed, "and that she sues you for sexual harassment, and wind up losing your job, in disgrace."

I looked at Dr. Drake. "I think we're done here. I'm going to go collect some things from the house," I said. "Ellen can stay here and talk with you. I've found another therapist to work with, and I'll be talking to her about what I want to do, going forward." Somehow I resisted the urge to reply to Ellen, who was, in any case, crying uncontrollably, and probably wouldn't have heard anything I said, anyway.

I left. It felt like I was running away from the scene of an accident, but there was clearly nothing more I could do. I drove straight to the house; I wanted to get the things I needed before the girls got home, so they wouldn't see me loading the car. I got some clothes, a couple of boxes of files from my office, and made copies of our tax returns and bank and brokerage account information and put them in a folder, for Arlene. I put it all in the car, then went in to wait for Alyssa and Sophie to get home.

For them it was a normal day, so I just greeted them without warning of what was to come. I did say I was staying for dinner, and started cooking about an hour before Ellen was due home. I wondered if she'd gone back to work after our meeting earlier.

She was very quiet when she did get home, and it was clear to the girls that she was upset, and that she and I were not talking. I said that we had an announcement to make, after dinner, and I'm afraid that they-or, at least, Alyssa-guessed what it was. We all finished eating quickly, then cleared away, put the dishes in the dishwasher, and returned to sit down at the table.

I admit, at that point, I had second thoughts. Who wouldn't have? I was about to speak the words that would end my marriage, and destroy my family. The pieces of the family would reattach themselves somehow, but the new thing would be very different from the old. And it was on me; I had done it. Yes, Ellen had hurt me, but she hadn't asked for a divorce; she had gone to some trouble to avoid one, by trying to hide her infidelity. So it was up to me to say the sentence that we were all afraid of.

"I'm very sorry," I began, "but your mother and I will be getting a divorce." They all started crying.

I still hate myself for that. No, I didn't have a choice; but I wished I had.

"I know none of us want this," I said. "I hope you all believe that I really did try to find a way around it. We won't be discussing the reasons for it, as a family-that's private, between your mother and me. I know you know that we both love you, and I promise you that that's not going to change. As for what's going to happen going forward: I've gotten a small apartment on campus, where I'll live until the divorce becomes final. Sophie, and Alyssa, you will continue to live here, with your mother. I'll still come here in the afternoons, so you'll see me every day, after school. Your mother and I can figure out whether it would be better for me to leave before dinner; I want to spend as much time with you as I can, but not if my presence is going to make everyone uncomfortable."

"You girls will both be going to see a counselor, so you'll have a professional to talk to about what's happening, and how you feel about it," I continued. "I've arranged for you to go together, at first, but you will probably also wind up having some individual sessions, as well. We'll let you decide, after a few sessions, whether you want to continue. Also, you should know that anything you tell your therapist is private; no one will report what you say to me or your Mom."

I stood. "You have my cell number; call or text me anytime, and if I'm not in class or in a meeting, I'll get back to you right away. I'm leaving now, but I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

I went to hug Sophie, then Alyssa. I held each of them tight, and said, "I love you."

For the second time that day, I retreated from a crying Ellen, this time joined by my crying daughters. I told Ellen that I had taken some personal items from our bedroom and the office, and that I would talk to her soon. Then I left.

It was too late to move into the apartment, so I just left the stuff locked in my car. I still had some Wild Turkey left in the bottle in my room, so I poured myself a double and sipped it, leaning against the headboard as I sat, in my clothes, on the bed, staring at the wall next to the television. No offense to the pantheon of country music stars, but I've never found that alcohol actually lessens psychic pain; however, it does, in moderation, make it easier to sit still and not do something stupid (a benefit that is completely erased and more than overturned by drinking more than the recommended dose). I washed my glass out in the sink when I was finished with what I'd poured.

I called the mattress store first thing the next morning, and arranged for delivery around lunchtime. After class, I went to the housing office to pick up my keys to the apartment, and moved in the few boxes I had, along with a few unwieldy plastic bags full of sheets, towels, and the kitchen stuff I thought I'd need. When I'd overseen delivery of my new bed, I went out for a sandwich before my meeting with Arlene.

She showed me a draft of a separation agreement, outlining a plan for joint physical custody (exact schedule to be determined), child support, and possible spousal support. We'd split what was in the checking and brokerage savings account, fifty-fifty. We'd each keep our own retirement money, as there was about the same amount in both accounts. Ellen could live in the house until Sophie moved out, at which point we'd sell and split the equity; in the meantime, we'd both contribute to the mortgage, insurance, and upkeep.

"I can get you some figures when I've had a chance to look over her financials," Arlene said. "For that I'll need her cooperation, since her interest in the business is a marital asset." I'd told her that Ellen had started the business while we were married, and that I had provided her full financial support while they got it going. "If you can, please persuade her that it will go more smoothly if she responds fully to my first request. If she resists, and I have to force compliance, then it's just going to make everyone unhappy."

"I don't want anything from her business," I said.

"Fine," said Arlene. "But in exchange for your willingness to leave it alone, we can negotiate for other things that you do want: more favorable custody, perhaps, or reduced spousal support. Relax. There's not a lot of horse trading to be done here, and if everyone's reasonable, we can minimize the hard feelings."

"What if everyone isn't reasonable?" I asked.

She gave me a tight smile. "That's when you'll be glad you hired me," she said.

That afternoon with the girls was strange, but we were all glad to see one another. I didn't go to my office to do work, as I often did, and I didn't start dinner-Ellen had texted me to say she preferred me not to stay for her to get home-and we spent most of the time sitting on the sofa in the den, me in the middle, with one arm around each of them. We didn't talk much, and most of what was said was to recall happy times we'd had together in the past. I left before Ellen was due home, telling them that I'd take them to the therapist tomorrow, after school.

I could tell they were a little nervous about it, Sophie especially, and I was glad I'd asked this one-another woman, Dr. Danielle Carter-to see them both together. Dr. Carter's waiting room was clearly designed with children in mind: there were toys scattered everywhere, and the reading material was mostly for children, with a few parenting magazines on a table. I wasn't in a reading mood, anyway, as I waited for them.

I'd given Dr. Carter a brief summary of events: how I'd discovered my wife's affair, and only after confronting her realized that Alyssa knew about it, too. I told her that a divorce was definitely in the works.

"I want to be honest with them, but I know there are some things it would hurt them too much to know, and I'm worried about telling them too much or too little," I said.

"Encourage them to ask you questions," she replied. "But warn them that, if the answer is something you think would cause them pain or confusion, then you will decline to answer. When you do have to decline, be sure to make them understand that, just because you didn't answer that question, it doesn't mean you won't answer other questions."

"Will they be all right?"

"It depends," she said. "Divorce is traumatic, and they will suffer. The main thing is to stabilize the situation, and to assure them that they are loved. And I don't mean by buying them things, or letting them do whatever they want." She smiled, to take the sting out of it. "A lot of newly divorced fathers have a problem with that. I hope you won't be one of them."

"Duly noted," I said.

"You've moved out?" she asked. I nodded. "If you can stand to, let things settle a while before you bring them to your new place; wait for them to ask to see it, which they will, eventually. And try not to be anxious when you bring them there. They may be critical of it; don't take it personally. Don't try to sell them on it; let them get used to it. What they're really getting used to is the idea of you living in a different place."

"I just hate for this to be happening to them," I said.

"I can see that you love them," she said, "and that you're concerned for their well-being. That counts for a lot, and plenty of children whose parents are married to each other don't have it. With love and support, your children have a good chance of growing up healthy and well adjusted, regardless of the divorce."

I was still mulling this over as the door opened, and Sophie came towards me, followed by Alyssa, and Dr. Carter.

"How was it?" I asked.

"She's nice," said Sophie, and looked over her shoulder, shyly; the therapist smiled at her.

Alyssa said, "I like her, too." That was a relief.

"You have two very special girls," said Dr. Carter. "Very intelligent, and unusually observant, for their ages. They've agreed to meet with me separately, next week, and I look forward to seeing them again."

"Thank you," I said.

"I'd like to talk to you and your wife," she told me. "We can do it separately, if that's necessary, but it would be more efficient if we could all three meet at once."

"I think we can stand to be in the same room for that," I said. "I'll talk to her."

We arranged to meet on Wednesday, at the time we had been meeting with Dr. Drake. Ellen was still seeing her individually, but I didn't see any point in continuing, since the divorce was now inevitable.

"Your daughters gave me permission to share some things with you," Dr. Carter began. "Sophie is very anxious. She knows what divorce is, of course, and she has some friends whose parents have divorced. She understands it's not necessarily the end of the world, but not knowing what to expect is very hard for her. She's going to need lots of reassurance, and you need to make things as stable and normal as you can for her."

She looked at Ellen. "Alyssa is very angry with you-"

"You think I don't know that?" Ellen snapped.

The therapist continued, "She blames you for the divorce. She admits that she's been hard on you, but right now she needs an explanation for what's happening, and this is what makes sense to her. We can work on it, and I think she will come around-she does love you, and didn't hesitate at all in saying so-but I don't think the way to do it is to try to argue her out of it."

"I can't believe this is happening," Ellen whined.

"There's more," said Dr. Carter. "Alyssa is adamant that she wants to live with her father."

"I know," moaned Ellen. I remembered she'd said that the night I told them I was moving out, but nobody had said anything more about it, so I hadn't taken it seriously. I admit that, at the moment, it made me feel good. But then I immediately felt guilty for that.

"Well, I strongly advise that whatever arrangements you make, you ensure that both girls remain together. Sophie needs the stabilizing influence of her sister. I must say that I am impressed with Alyssa's sense of responsibility towards Sophie. You are very fortunate in that. It speaks very well of how you have raised her."

"She's her father's daughter," said Ellen, glumly.

"Well, thank god she got her mother's looks," I said.

Ellen began crying. "What did I do?" I asked.

"It's worse when you're nice to me," she wailed.

Christ on a bicycle. "I'm sorry," I said. "I'll try not to do it again."

To round things out, I saw Dr. Andersen again on Friday.

"So, you confronted your wife," she said, "and she admitted the other affair. Did you come to any conclusion about why you were afraid to talk to her?"

"Yes," I said, reluctantly.

"Well?"

"I was afraid that she would manage to persuade me to believe her," I said.

"And why does that frighten you?"

"Because she's a liar. I I don't want to entrust my future to someone who shows no compunction about manipulating me with lies. The fact that I'm susceptible doesn't give her the right to do it to me. I hate that she seems to think it's perfectly all right to use the fact that I love her against me, like she thinks I'm a chump. She should value my love for her, not use it against me."