Tunnel of Love Pt. 04

"But unluckily for him, your wedding vow came to mind in time to stop you?"

"It did!"

"You didn't want to break a promise?"

"Right."

"So it wasn't love for me that stopped you—just your sense of honor?"

Jennifer's demeanor suddenly changed. She stopped sobbing, and her face turned resolute. Her soft, resigned voice solidified.

"No, that's not right, Mike. You heard me say it, to him, on the video. I told him I couldn't do it, not just because I was married, but because I loved you with all my heart. And then, I felt confused...like I didn't know how or why I had ended up there, holding...his..."

As Jennifer's voice trailed off, Mike played the rest of the video.

"So," he said when it was over, "love stopped you? Love for me?"

"Yes!"

"And after your love for me came flooding back, you said you couldn't see him anymore?"

"Yes."

"You didn't say, 'We can't be friends anymore' or something like that, you said you couldn't 'see' him anymore? Like you had been dating? Like you were breaking up with him?"

"I guess...yes."

"And then you said it pained you...even after you remembered your love for me, it pained you to stop seeing him?"

"Yes."

"And you said you had feelings for him...that you thought you loved him?"

"Yes."

"This is after you 'remembered' that you loved me?"

"Yes. It didn't make sense to me, at first. It confused me. I didn't think such a thing could be possible, to love two men at the same time...but I realized it was."

"So you felt you loved both of us, but you decided to break things off with him, instead of me?"

Once again, Jennifer's expression and tone of voice changed. "Yes, Mike, I never...I never thought of leaving you for him, ever. Not before that night, not during that night, not after that night."

"Because you loved me more? Is that why you chose me over him?"

"Yes!"

"But you'd already chosen me, before that night, right? In fact, that's what you said to him—that you'd chosen me a long time ago?"

"Yes," Jennifer answered hesitatingly, as if bothered by the implication of the question.

"And didn't you just walk away from him after remembering me; you said some more things, didn't you? You said you were 'sorry,' and that if you'd never met me...'"

"Yes," Jennifer replied, again weakly.

"Meaning you were sorry that you'd met me first, sorry that you were married and not free to take up with him?"

In a flash, Jennifer's hesitation was gone. "No, Mike, that's not what I meant," she said resolutely. "I was sorry for him. Sorry that I might have led him on. He was crying, Mike, and I was trying to tell him that the problem was me, not him."

"Actually, it sounded like you were telling him that the problem was me."

"Whatever it sounded like, Mike, you're wrong!" Jennifer replied, raising her voice defiantly. "I didn't leave that apartment feeling like I'd married too soon, like I'd married the wrong person. I've never regretted marrying you, Mike—never. Except...except now...because of how I've hurt you."

As sorrow overtook Jennifer and she began to sob again, Mike looked away. "So he cried, you apologized, but you still didn't leave right then, did you? Instead, you kissed him?"

"Yes."

"And then, after you remembered you loved me, after you told him you'd chosen me, you told him that you loved him? You just couldn't leave without saying that?"

Jennifer barely managed a "yes" before her sobbing burst into crying. Mike shook his head, but underneath his disdain he seemed as uncomfortable as her. His body tensed, relaxed, tensed, and relaxed. Finally, he exhaled deeply and held up his hand in a gesture that could have been interpreted in any number of ways.

"We're almost done," he said, his words and tone of voice equally ambiguous.

* * *

Gayle watched Mike's interrogation of Jennifer with fascination. What the world had gained in a software engineer, she thought, it had lost in a lawyer. Jennifer's make-out scene with James seemed so squalid now—sad, just sad and shameful. The scene's former eroticism had evaporated.

Which led Gayle to suspect there was some other agenda behind Mike's interrogation besides convicting Jennifer of a crime. Except once or twice, Mike had not gotten angry or even animated. It was almost as if he was just getting something over with; something unpleasant and distasteful but sadly necessary.

Yes, he's roasted her, but it's as if he's been standing in the fire with her. Burning himself, as much as her. Burning away the disbelief, the anger, the indignation? Or would a better analogy be a cauterization...like putting a hot piece of metal to a wound he has no other way to close?

Gayle wondered to what end the conflagration would lead. If Mike was desensitizing himself to what Jennifer had done, was he doing it in preparation for reconciliation, or divorce? Or, was he just trying to destroy Jennifer, and himself, to no other end?

Gayle found Jennifer's responses as fascinating as Mike's questions. Jennifer had answered most of his inquiries simply, directly, and unemotionally without getting defensive or argumentative. She'd stood in the withering fire of his interrogation without firing back; without resorting to the justifications or excuses she'd offered in the past. She'd rarely even offered the straight explanations that had come out in prior sessions.

She knows I remember them, that Mike remembers them. She knows that his examination has not brought out the whole story—things that might put her actions in context, put her in a better light. But it's as if she wants to be judged, wants to be punished...wants the truth laid out, utterly unvarnished and unmitigated. Why?

There had been flourishes, though—some answers Mike had not expected. In demeanor and tone, Jennifer had been convincing when she'd said she never stopped loving Mike, she'd never thought of leaving him for James, and she'd never regretted marrying him. The fact that she'd answered so many other damaging questions with soul-baring honesty lent credibility to those claims.

There was something curious too about her reaction when Mike brought up James' "advances." And there's something remarkable about how completely she recalls her thoughts and her feelings despite both the passage of time and the effort her subconscious put into suppressing or twisting things. It's as if she's reading from a transcript; from a record made by someone else.

Gayle found the transcript analogy apt for another reason. Jennifer had spoken with authority but detachment; like a court reporter, flatly reading back a witness's answer—or someone reading from a diary, years after writing the entries. The thoughts and emotions recorded might have been real once; authentic and intense. However, distanced by time, newer experiences, and newer perspectives, the old thoughts and emotions might seem...well, not unintelligible, but perhaps not controlling anymore.

Like reading an old love letter written to an old flame. You might not doubt the genuineness of the sentiment expressed at the time, but now...now, if you remember it at all, it could almost be a scene from a movie you'd seen, a passage in a story you'd read...devoid of present feeling, of personal connection.

Jennifer had called this meeting. Despite what was on the DVD, she'd wanted to show it to Mike. She'd answered all of his questions and taken a beating in doing so. Why? Did she intend the truth to clear the air, possibly for some sort of redemption—or to seal a verdict against her? Or was the truth the end unto itself, and whatever lay beyond, unclear to her?

All your questions may be answered soon, Doctor. Will you contribute here tonight? Do you have anything left to offer, or has this case gotten away from you?

* * *

Mike no longer felt paralyzed. He just felt like shit.

He'd taken Jennifer apart, torching her for everything that had happened that night with James—and, by extension, everything that had happened before. He'd watched skin, then muscle, the bone burn; he could even smell it. When he'd started, he'd felt it necessary; but now that he was almost done, he wasn't so sure.

Did I offer anything insightful? Constructive? No, I pointed out the obvious—that she'd done selfish, stupid, immoral, or maybe just incomprehensible things. That I have clear and convincing grounds to divorce her. But it's not like she's denying any of it. If I'm trying to make a point, why?

Jennifer had previously apologized for her actions many times. Granted, until tonight, the full scope of her adventure with Coltez had not been revealed—but otherwise, since parting with Coltez, she'd been a model wife. And before she'd strayed, she'd been a model wife for twelve years.

No doubt, Mike thought, Jennifer should have told him where she'd gone with James and what had transpired there. That very night—she should have come home and confessed. If not then, certainly on Black Sunday.

She should have told me.

It was one more strike against her. But she'd held back from confession, those times, for the sake of trying to save the marriage, and maybe something of her pride—not to hurt Mike, nor so that she could continue to see Coltez. And after Black Sunday...

I never pressed her for details. I passed on the opportunity and became complicit in the concealment. I had my reasons, and it doesn't excuse her failure to speak up in the first place, but since then my hands haven't been exactly clean. I may have led her to believe that I didn't want to know the rest.

Furthermore, the concealment had only delayed this moment, a moment Mike would have had to face anyway if Jennifer had been more forthcoming sooner. Now the moment was upon him, the ball was in his court, just as it would have been earlier. What was he going to do?

What I did was beat her up. I hit a girl. Some boy scout I turned out to be.

Lyrics came to his mind again. Lyrics from a song about a couple "giving each other some hard lessons lately / but we ain't learning." A song about "another battle" in their "dirty little war," and the aftermath:

When I look at myself I don't see
The man I wanted to be
Somewhere along the line I slipped off track
One step up and two steps back

What, Mike wondered, was he doing here tonight? Was he moving forward, or backwards? If he couldn't move forward with Jennifer, why go backwards? Why not just...move to the side? Leave her alone?

If I can't forgive her, if I can't get past what happened...then fine, divorce her. No one would blame me. But enough...enough with the punishment. She lied to me, she was selfish and stupid, and she hurt me, but she didn't mean to hurt me. Me...I just hurt her, and I meant every second of it.

Mike's indictment of Jennifer hadn't just been about punishment, though. As his self-reproach abated, and as he felt increasingly cold and numb about the scene they'd watched and dissected, Mike admitted to himself that cold and numb was exactly how he'd wanted to feel. He wanted closure—for better or worse—and with respect to the sexual aspects of Jennifer's escapade, he felt he'd achieved it.

What would Dr. Seymour call it—immersion therapy, maybe? Looking at it again, what Jennifer did with Coltez...it just seems pale and pathetic to me now. That scene is like a computer virus that I may never be able to get rid of, but I've quarantined it. It'll sit there on my hard drive, maybe forever, but it won't interfere...unless I pick at it...and after a while, I may pretty much forget about it.

Perhaps, Mike thought, it was not just his clinical dissection of Jennifer's behavior that had sapped it of its previous impact on his pride and ego. Perhaps it was also Collette; a beautiful woman he could have seduced, just the previous night. Perhaps it was also seeing Jennifer, on the video, walk away from Mr. Player and his big dick, to go home to Mike. Perhaps it was also Mike's memories of the countless times he'd had sex with Jennifer; liaisons that had gone far beyond what little action Coltez had enjoyed.

Whatever it was, Mike felt he no longer had any reason to be insecure—not about himself. What Jennifer had done with Coltez wasn't any reflection on him. He'd always satisfied Jennifer, and he could attract and satisfy someone else. Jennifer was the one to feel humiliated by what she'd done; and clearly, that humiliation weighed heavily on her.

To have to watch that video and answer my questions, in the presence of Dr. Seymour no less...no wonder she's a wreck.

Weighing heavily still on Mike was the greater problem in what had transpired between Jennifer and James—the emotional angle. Jennifer hadn't just had a little physical fling, which he might now be able to move past. If Jennifer was to be believed, she'd fallen in love with the man. How could Mike get over that? Why should he?

But if it's true that she never stopped loving me...if it's possible to love two people and have to choose...

Well, she chose me. Doesn't that count for something?

Mike could have gone on like that, debating with himself, all night. But he had a few more questions for Jennifer. Her answers might answer the questions he was asking himself.

"We're almost done," Mike repeated to the group.

* * *

It broke Gayle out of her reverie. She wondered what questions Mike possibly could have left. Between what they'd covered tonight and what they'd covered in previous sessions, it seemed like there could be nothing left to say...just choices to be made.

"You told me a long time ago," Mike said, "that after that night at his apartment, you never saw him again," Mike continued. "Was that true when you said it?"

"Yes," Jennifer answered.

"Is it still true?"

"Yes."

"Since that night, you've never, ever seen him?"

"Except on that video...right."

Mike paused, as if gathering strength.

"Then tell me..." He pointed at the monitor. "How did you get that video?"

Gayle leaned forward in her chair. She had not thought to ask that question. There seemed, however, to be only one possible answer.

She got it from James.

But how? Perhaps he had sent the video to her. It had not escaped Gayle's notice that James had continued crying even after Jennifer had left his apartment. Obviously he was a player, as Mike had suspected, but perhaps he'd fallen for Jennifer?

So out of desperation, he sent the edited DVD to Mike—only to repent, and provide the whole film to Jennifer so that she could try to save her marriage?

But Jennifer was wincing.

That's not good. She must have gone to see him. Which means she just lied when she said otherwise...

"Mike," Jennifer finally spoke, "I took that DVD from Peter."

Gayle did a double-take. She looked at Mike. He'd been stoic most of the night, but now, he looked utterly surprised—exactly how Gayle felt.

Peter? Who the hell is Peter?

* * *

"Peter Wombert?" Mike asked, indeed feeling utterly surprised. "What the hell does he have to do with any of this?"

"With the video...everything. That's where I was last night, Mike—at his house. And that's where I took it from him."

Mike's surprise quickly changed to anger. "You were with Wombert last night? That's why you asked me to take care of Mikey? So you could go to that asshole's house?"

As Mike leapt out of his chair, Jennifer looked on with alarm. "Mike, let me explain..."

Mike wasn't listening. "I can't fucking believe this, Jennifer! As if Coltez wasn't bad enough, now you're carrying on with...and to think, last night, I...while you...you..."

Suddenly, Mike's anger yielded to something else. He sat down again, virtually collapsing into his chair, and brought a hand up to cover his eyes.

"Mike," Jennifer pleaded, "I've not been 'carrying on' with Peter! But last night, I had to—"

"I can't fucking believe..." Mike continued, his voice cracking.

"Jennifer," Gayle interrupted, loudly. "You said you took it from him?"

Hearing the question, Mike stopped babbling. He opened his eyes, looked at Gayle, and then at Jennifer.

"Yes," she answered, looking at Mike. "I took it from his computer. In his office, at his house. After...after I attacked him."

Confusion now ruled Mike's expression and voice. "After you...but how did Peter get..."

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you this before, Mike. I was afraid of what you'd do, of what could happen to you...or us. And, I was ashamed and terrified. Terrified of the real horror of this whole mess. Then, once I held back, it just never...I just never saw a way to tell you without making things worse. I've paid dearly for that, Mike, in ways you can't imagine. Not that it makes a difference."

"Wait...back up," Mike said, befuddled. "Peter...what about Peter?"

"Peter was in love with me, Mike."

Mike looked on with shock, intrigue, and perhaps fear. Gayle did the same. Jennifer shook her head, her face showing disgust.

"At least, whatever passes for love in his twisted universe. All those years, he was hoping that our relationship would...give way...so that he could have me. But I was always so in love with you, he never had an opening. Plus, I was so uninterested in him in any romantic way, well...no opening could have been wide enough.

"But he didn't know that," Jennifer continued, "and he did something...insane. He sent James after me. To try to seduce me, to ruin me...or at least, ruin me for you. One way or another, to ruin our marriage, leaving me alone and vulnerable. Peter thought that would give him the opening he needed."

"James..." Mike said slowly, having trouble absorbing what Jennifer was saying. "James was a friend of Peter's?"

"No, Mike. James is a professional...I don't know what you'd call him; a seducer, I guess. Peter hired him, Mike. Hired him to make friends with me, get me to...cheat on you."

Mike was floored. It sounded so incredible. He wondered if Jennifer was playing some trick on him.

But then, why would she? Why not just admit she got the video from Coltez? She's admitted to far worse tonight.

And Wombert, that asshole—yes, I could believe it. Motive, means, opportunity...yes. But still, should I believe it? Is this just another lie?

"You said 'Wombert'?" asked Gayle. Mike had forgotten all about her. She was standing by the monitor, scanning through the DVD backwards.

"Yes," said Mike, "why?"

"Something...it just sounded a little familiar...here it is, I think."

Gayle had located the video captured by the camera in the hallway. She started it just after James had led Jennifer to the bathroom. The point where he'd stood nearby, talking on his cell phone—the words seemingly lost when they'd listened earlier.

She played the scene with the volume turned way up high. After several repetitions, they all understood what James had said into his phone:

"Mr. Wombert? I thought you would like to know that I think tonight is the night. Do you remember my address? I have my whole apartment rigged with cameras. Be waiting outside in one hour to get your proof."

Gayle stopped the video and returned to her chair as Mike rose from his. He started pacing the room—prowling, even. He let loose a stream of obscenities that startled both women in the room, until his monologue turned internal.

Mother fucker. Mother fucker! I fucking knew it, way back when. I knew it, but she denied it, and I thought...I thought I would be a big man and not interfere with their friendship. More than twelve years of bullshit I put up with, and all the time, he was playing us. Mother fucker.

Mike was about to leave—about to head over to Peter's house and strangle him—when he suddenly thought of Richard Davis, Collette's ex-husband. Then, he thought of Collette. He didn't quite grasp the connections, but the thoughts brought him back to Jennifer.