Payback - Ten Fold and Then Some

"You want to talk about it? I've got a six-pack of your favorite beer in the fridge. You know I'm a good listener."

"I'm broken, Michelle. I wouldn't be good company, and I'm in no shape for anything on the rebound. Besides, you deserve better than me."

She smirked at me. "No shit. There's no way you're climbing back in my bed. Not now. You and I have a lot of fences to mend, before anything like that starts up again. We were friends, and if you want to unload, I'm here for you. But that's all. Talk."

"Let me get the check."

~ * ~ * ~

Once my week long room rental was up, I didn't renew it. I moved into Michelle's place, in her guest room. We were still a little cautious with each other, and going slow.

Lexi received the divorce papers while serving her thirty days. She never called me. Maria did, several times, but no way I was going to talk to that evil bitch.

It was two weeks before Michelle and I tentatively kissed. Kissing led to cuddling, making out, second base, and eventually doing our damnedest to wear out the springs on her bed. Sex with Michelle had been always been incredible. This time around, there was no sneakiness, no deceit, and I was able to take the time to really get to know her. It made me feel all the worse for the way I'd treated her, and I was astounded she even considered giving us a second try.

She was smart, funny, loving, passionate. She was also ambitious, and being the Boss's baby girl, she had a clear path ahead of her. She even tried to talk me into taking a job with her firm, but the idea of working in the same place as both her and Lexi was a little too much.

"You wouldn't have to worry about Lexi. She's gone," Michelle explained. "So don't let that stand in your way."

It took me a while to find out that Lexi had left the area. She'd signed the papers, but instead of staying in the house, she wanted us to sell it, and split the proceeds, if any. It was all straightforward. A fifty-fifty split of our money, no alimony, no kids, she'd keep her retirement account, I'd keep mine. We were both so far removed from our relationship, it all felt pretty easy.

I had a rough day when it became official. I was divorced. I had a failed marriage, and I couldn't blame it on anyone but myself. Sure, I could share the blame on my wife's desire to bury me in pain and humiliation, but I had started it. I was still hurt that she'd never once tried to call, to apologize, to even discuss anything. Not even a letter or a message through her lawyer. It was as if I'd never mattered to her. I wondered why I put up with her payback as long as I did. That night I spent way too long at the bar, trying to self anesthetize myself. Michelle finally found me, and took me home. She's a better woman than I deserve.

We both moved on. It took over a year for me to propose to Michelle, and almost another for her and her mother to nail down the details of the wedding. I think it might have taken longer, but the idea of walking down the aisle in a maternity wedding dress finally put an end to the dilly-dallying.

I learned my lesson, and it was a painful one. Never again would I stray. Her father helped me to reach that firm conviction. He's a powerful man, and wealth is a scary thing. Then again, I think I would have made the same decision on my own. Life is a tough teacher. Besides, I love the woman who picked me up when I was down, and who's now carrying my child.

Lexi? Curiosity got the better of me two years later. I tracked her down. She was in Chicago. She was living with Maria, and pursuing the same trade. In a moment of idiocy, I called and made an appointment to see her in my room. In the end I couldn't do it. I left her a note, her fee, and a substantial tip. I didn't sign it. I just said I was sorry, and hoped she had a good life.

It seems like she earns a pretty good living, for now. At least from what my appointment cost. I wonder how she'll be doing ten years down the road when she's lost her looks. I wonder if she does it because it's what she wants, what she needs, if she somehow tapped some hidden need in herself, while she was punishing me. Or maybe she thinks she's still punishing me. I even wondered if she wasn't punishing herself.

I never told Melissa what I'd done, or almost done. She never asked. She puts up with me when I have my occasional bad days. They're much less frequent now. I owe that to her. Her and the kids. Every night I thank my lucky stars that she's in my life. I know it's more than I deserve, and I'm determined to show her just how damn much I appreciate her.

I think I'm a pretty good husband and father. Not perfect, but I don't stray, I make sure to tell her everyday that I love her, and I make sure I never take her for granted, except for the occasional gray day, when she's there for me. I'm a doting father, and she tells me I spoil the kids too much. I don't believe there can be too much. Thank God she reels me in when I get carried away.

Then there are the gray days. When I remember a previous life, mistakes made, and prices paid. I wish I could say I had put it all behind me, but every now and then, less frequently over the years, something will push my buttons, and I'm transported back. Seeing her punish me, doing those things, eager to feed my pain.

~ * ~ * ~

I did see Lexi one last time. I had no idea she was in town. We were at a ballgame, and our daughter was playing third base. I was so proud of her, she has a great arm for a - damn, I'm a Dad now, I can't say that, my wife would kill me. She has a great arm, let's leave it at that, and her team was playing for the championship.

For some reason, I looked down the line past where Dee was playing, and I saw her. She didn't look bad. Not like someone who'd been a whore for nearly twenty years. She was thinner, dressed nicely, too nicely to be honest. Inappropriately for a ball game.

But it was her. No doubt about it. She was watching my girl, and then she looked into the stands at me and the rest of my family. She was too far away from me to really see her expression. Instinctively I raised my hand to wave at her, then stopped, and lowered it.

Melissa caught me, and gave me a weird look, then glanced down the line where an overdressed middle aged woman was walking away.

"Was that . . .?"

"I think so. It looked like her."

"Why? Why is she here now?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen her or spoken to her since the day I left the house nineteen years ago."

"If that bitch has any intention of getting you back—" she snarled.

I grabbed her hand. "I'm pretty sure that's not her plan. I . . . I think she was curious. You know that there isn't a chance in hell of her coming between us, don't you?"

Melissa leaned against me and we were quiet as our daughter's team ran into the dugout. She was going to be on deck.

"Do you still think about her?"

"Rarely. Never in a good way. I guess I feel sorry for her sometimes. Other times I'm glad she went crazy about her payback, and drove me away. You're the best thing that ever happened to me, and don't think for a moment that I don't recognize that, and thank my lucky stars every day."

Yeah, she got her payback, but in the end, I think I hit the jackpot. And that's good enough for me.

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