| Chapter 19 |
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David walked through the front door exhausted. He had called Linda from the airport in
Cancun. She had been almost breathless with relief. Though he looked like he had just
crawled up from hell, that didn’t matter—her husband had gotten home safe. She threw her
arms around his neck and noticed at once his fatigue and unwashed odor. His body felt
weak in her arms, almost as if he were on the verge of collapse. She assumed it was lack
of sleep, when in fact it was depression. Instead of asking a flurry of questions, she quietly
helped him get into bed. After helping him out of his soiled clothes she bundled them and
took them to the hamper. Returning, she folded back the sheet and stroked the side of his
unshaven face as his heavy eyes fluttered. Every few minutes for the rest of the day, she
checked on him, wondering just how long a man could sleep after going through such an
ordeal.
He awoke ten hours later, hungry.
While Linda prepared a plate of sliced cheese and apples, he waited in his favorite chair
by the pool, contemplating talking to her now. But he was still weary, too weary to set out on
this unpredictable and complicated path. The moment of truth could wait until morning. The
delay felt like a reprieve, though the prospect of a few more hours in bed and more sleep
provided little consolation. Tomorrow. First thing. He resolved to face it then.
Linda handed him the plate and sat down beside him.
“Sorry I couldn’t call you from down there,” he said.
“I got over it. Jorge filled us in on what was going on, after I put him on the spot. Then I
realized how proud I am of you. A lot of men would’ve bowed out and let Tim fend for
himself.” She looked at him for a moment, realizing she had just gone through the agony of
thinking she may never see him again. “It’s just that you don’t know the rules in a foreign
country … I learned the meaning of pure fear this week.”
“We were stuck in that room. Minutes were like hours.”
“How’s Tim?”
The image of seeing him in locked in a cell was still vivid in his mind. “Honey, you should’ve
seen his face. He was so scared. Can you imagine being told you’re going to spend the
rest of your life in prison? In Mexico for chrissake. It’s like that kind of thing can’t happen,
or shouldn’t happen, but it did. You feel so helpless.”
“Jorge didn’t sound helpless.”
David let out a weak laugh. “No, Jorge’s not helpless. I guess he’s not afraid of anything.”
He looked at her. “Must be all of that time he spent in Vietnam. The Seals got the raw end
of the deal. I guess it takes a special kind of man. That’s what they sign up for.”
He paused, struck by his overwhelming love for her. A tear formed in the corner of his eye
and trickled down his cheek.
It stunned Linda. She had never seen anything like this in him before. A chill of emotion ran
through her. She wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“What is it, David? What's wrong?”
He managed a smile. “I spent some time thinking about how much I’ve got to lose down
there.”
She took his hand and held it aside her face, almost too emotional to speak. Then she
combed her fingers through his hair and smiled. “You still look weary.”
“I am. Didn’t sleep for almost three days, not after they arrested Tim.”
Linda smiled with sympathy. “Got enough energy for a shower?”
“Yeah. Then I think I’ll lie down and watch a little TV. I’ll be back to normal tomorrow. We’ll
talk in the morning.”
She went upstairs with him to change the sheets while he showered—his sweating had
soured those he had been sleeping on. After finding a movie on TV, she propped the
pillows against the headboard; then picked up a magazine and sat down in the recliner next
to the window. David came out a few minutes later and walked over to kiss her. He was
glad she decided to stay in the room. Approaching the bed, he pulled the towel from his
waist and flung it toward the bathroom, then got in between the crisp clean sheets.
He was asleep before the first scene in the movie had come to an end.
The next morning, sitting on the edge of the bed, she watched him go through the motions
of getting dressed. “I went over to the office a couple of times while you were gone.
Everything’s running smoothly.”
David didn’t reply. He seemed distracted. When he walked out of the bedroom he
appeared to be a fog of gloom. She entered the kitchen a few minutes behind him. He
was sitting at the table, no coffee, no newspaper, his face down with fingers locked behind
his neck.
She placed a cup of coffee in front of him and sat down. He had returned from Mexico
exhausted, but she had seen him exhausted before. This was different. Something
troubled him. “David,” she said quietly, “I’m worried about you.”
He never dreaded anything more. It was nearly impossible to lift his head to look at her. A
glance and he looked away. From the moment he awoke, his stomach had not stopped
churning. The words he was about to say would change his life forever. Just thinking about
saying them left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was no good way to begin, nothing that
might soften the blow.
“Why are you so quiet? Did something happen down there you haven’t told me?” She
watched him for a moment. “David ...”
He finally looked up. His heart fell with a glimpse of her face. “Oh God!” he gasped. The
agony tore through his chest like a shredder. On the verge of possibly losing her, he felt a
disabling rush of panic. His hands knotted as he forced himself to speak. “There is
something I haven’t told you.” He closed his eyes at the sound of his own voice. He drew in
a breath and called up the last remnants of his resolve. “I should’ve told you a long time
ago. It’s about me. Something you don’t know. This summer I let it influence my
judgment.” He took one last deep breath. “All five of us ... me, James, Tim, Jorge and Jake
have been intimate with each other.” His eyes closed again.
“What!”
His jaw tightened. He said it. He got it out. There was no going back now, no choice but to
continue. “I’m bisexual. So are the others. We’ve been going to bed together.”
She smiled wryly. Whatever was bothering him, at least he attempted to gloss it over with
his sense of humor. She stared at him for a moment. An odd silence followed, awkward,
like being in the vague margins of a bad dream. It became obvious he wasn’t trying to be
funny. His demeanor suddenly frightened her, that look of a frightened animal in his eyes.
His statement seeped into her consciousness like a dull ache. She began to grasp the
words that had come at her like the strike of a snake. Her smile evaporated as she
continued to stare, watching his eyes fix on the table.
“You didn’t say that,” she said, the smile now gone. Her heart quickened. Her thoughts
reeled in disarray. All of the anxiety she suffered while he was in Mexico melted into a
smoldering confusion of anger. She wanted to shake her head, shake those words out of
her brain and begin the morning all over again. Their many years together flashed through
her mind as if they were suddenly slipping from her grasp.
“You didn’t say that!” she said, coming to her feet, stunned, stepping half way across the
kitchen. She turned and narrowed her eyes on him, her voice now harsh. “You didn’t say
that!” she said louder, then moved about the kitchen in an aimless daze. “You didn’t say
that!” she screamed, her anger feeding on its own momentum, expanding into pure rage.
She grabbed a glass off the counter and shards of glass flew across the kitchen when it
exploded against the brick wall behind the stove.
She turned again and glared at him. The reality of an upside down world had taken its
grip. She had heard stories like this, where husbands come home and drop bombshells on
their wives, but it never occurred to her that David would be one of them. “You bastard!
You fucking bastard!” she raged. “How dare you do this to us! How dare you!”
When he looked up she was gone. David guessed she had gone upstairs to their
bedroom. No, there was no going back now, not ever. He expected her reaction, though it
helped little in deciding what to do as the fear of losing her pounded away in his brain. He
sat staring into space for a few minutes before getting to his feet and starting for the stairs.
His heart felt like lead as he stood in the doorframe and looked at her sitting at her dressing
table, sobbing. “Linda...” he said, his voice broken and weak with remorse.
She turned with a start. “You came back home after scaring me to death and then tell me
something like that! I can’t believe it! You just told me you’re gay. Why didn’t I know? How
did I live with you twenty years and not know, not realize something that should’ve been
obvious?”
“I’m not gay,” he said defensively.
“You’re not! You’re fucking other men, or whatever you do together, and you’re not gay!
You said you’ve been intimate with them for godsake!”
“None of us are gay. We’re bisexual.”
“Oh! I see! What’s the damn difference?”
“We all have wives we love,” he said, his defenseless sincerity falling on deaf ears.
“You bastard! You have the nerve to say that now!”
“It didn’t happen because of you. It’s not your fault.”
“That’s a good one! Here’s another one. Get your suitcase, pack it and get out! I’m going
out to the back yard. When I come back in, I want you gone.”
David wiped away a tear and stepped out of her way as she brushed by. He felt weak,
vulnerable, his arms hung like useless weight. He never imagined such overwhelming
sorrow. He walked in a daze across the room. A cold empty chill filled his chest as he
entered the closet and reached to the top shelf for his suitcase.
♦ ♦ ♦
Returning from her mother’s house, Shasha drove impatiently to get back home, eager to
hear more about what happened in Mexico. She still didn’t understand why James wanted
her to take the girls to her mother’s for the day. She maneuvered through the traffic with a
sense of apprehension, fully aware that from the moment of Tim’s arrest, the vibrant man
she had married had been a wreck. It had taken him twenty-four hours just to catch up on
his sleep, and when he finally woke up he seemed troubled. Accustomed to a husband with
a stoic, practical demeanor, it bothered her to see him so emotional when he walked her
and the girls to the car.
She found him waiting by the pool. She sat beside him for a long moment before he turned
to look at her. He appeared slightly calmer than he had been, but she saw at once that
same fear in his dark eyes.
“Shasha, telling you this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
She leaned back in the chair, alarmed. She had never heard this tone in his voice before.
It made her nervous.
Unable to look at her, he stared past his feet as he spoke. “I’ve known since I was a boy.
Tried to bury it all these years, but it never goes away.” He found the courage to look at her
before going on. “It’s who I am. …That last year in graduate school, I was involved in a
sexual relationship with my roommate.”
She tensed, remembering her brief acquaintance with his roommate, a strapping athletic
type James had played football with. Her eyes darted about as if his words had scrambled
her thoughts, like something inside her head was banging at her skull to get out and disrupt
her life. She heard what he said, but her mind was loath to picture her virile husband having
sex with another man. Staggered, she looked at him and said: “You what?”
Despite the sudden overwhelming feel of falling through space, he found the resolve to go
on. “I should have told you then. I’m telling you now because there’s more.” He reached up
to rub his eyes. “I let it happen with Randal thinking I could get it out of my system before
you and I got married. It didn’t work. The men I see on Thursday nights, including David,
are all bisexual.” He paused. When he looked up, she was staring glassy-eyed at the
pool. “The poker game was a means for us to get together. We felt if we could deal with it
that way, we could go on without it affecting our lives.”
He waited for her response, a silence equal to torture.
There was an expression of disbelief on her face when she looked at him. “So you’re not
going to tell me this is all a bad joke, are you?”
“No.”
“You’re having sex with those men?”
“Yes.”
Her thoughts for a moment seemed like wheels spinning on a slot machine. When she had
expected to hear more about what happened in Mexico, she heard instead her husband
admit to a sexual relationship with other men. Not just other men—her best friend’s
husband. She wanted to refuse to believe it, but the anxiety etched on his face made it as
real as a slap.
“It can’t be,” she finally said. “Three daughters depend on you. You can’t be telling me this!”
He reached for her forearm and she recoiled.
“You know what?” she snapped. “I hate you. I almost lost my mind with worry while you
were in Mexico, and you come home and tell me this! I just fucking hate you. You’ve let me
believe all this time we have this picture-perfect marriage, beautiful home, happy family,
when all the while you’re gay!”
“Shasha, I...”
“Shut-up!” She stood and walked to the edge of the pool, then turned. “That’s it, James, I
hate you. I hate you for making me hate the man I love. You’ve known all along and let me
believe you love me.”
“I do...”
“I said shut-up! I don’t want to hear another word out of your fucking mouth!” She turned her
head in anger. Then her ranting continued. “It was too good to be true. Everything was too
perfect. How stupid of me.” She looked at him. “How can you be so convincing when you
make love to me? How can you pretend to enjoy it so?”
He knew better than to answer.
Staring at him, the more she thought about it, the angrier she became. That his duplicity
had been ongoing since college was more than she could fathom. That her best friend’s
husband was involved was beyond comprehension. “David, too?” she said helplessly.
He nodded.
“Is he going to tell Linda?”
He nodded again.
“Well James, you’ve both succeeded in fucking up the whole picture. I guess I’d just like to
blow my brains out, because I’m not sure I can deal with this. Thanks to you … a fucking
stranger pretending to be my husband all these years, I feel like I’m suddenly going
insane.” She stared at him a moment, unable to believe the man she knew so well had just
admitted to being queer. She had no idea what to say, other than rant, to simply blurt out
her emotions. The tragic expression on his face somehow made it worse. “But you know
what?” she continued. “I’m just going to have to pull myself together because I have three
daughters. Unlike you, one of us has to be responsible for their well-being.”
He gritted his teeth. Her words delivered their intended painful effect.
“So don’t worry, James. I won’t blow my brains out. I’ll take care of the girls. You can go off
romping with your boyfriends. Just don’t worry about a goddamn thing, except where you’re
going to live, because it ain’t going to be here, you bastard!” Her fist flew to her lips.
“Damn you!” She lowered her head and rubbed her brow before she continued. “I’m
getting in my car and going for a drive. When I get back, have your goddamn clothes
packed and your ass out of my house.”
Tears formed in her eyes as she stared at him a final moment. Then she turned and hurried
toward the garage.
♦ ♦ ♦
Sally left the restaurant and pulled into her driveway shortly after eleven PM. Jake had
gotten home from Mexico the morning before. He slept the whole day and most of the
night. He obviously needed one more day to recover, so she had insisted he stay home
from work today. Anxious to get home, she wanted to check on him and hear more about
their Mexico adventure.
She found him at the kitchen table, sitting in the dark. His hair askew, he sat hunched over
the table on his elbows, staring into space. She turned on the small light over the sink to
illuminate the room a bit. Bewildered, she took the chair next to his, concerned, his face
weighted with gloom.
“Thought you’d be rested by now. You still look tired.”
He didn’t look at her or reply, his eyes watery.
“Lord only knows what you guys went through. I can only imagine. Must’ve been awfully
hard on Tim in that jail.”
Jake took a deep breath, braced for all hell to break loose. “There’s something about me
you don’t know.”
She doubted this.
“About me and the others.”
She stared at him, waiting for him to go on.
“We talked on the way home. Made a decision. We all agreed to tell our wives.”
She tilted her head quizzically. “Tell us what?”
“You won’t like it.” He paused. He had spent the last several hours thinking about all their
years together, all the trust she had invested in him, how they slaved together during the
early years, constantly on the verge of losing their business. “Just know before I say it that I
love you more than I ever have.”
Caught by surprise, she said: “Jake, you haven’t said that in a long time.”
“Well, you’ve known it.”
“Yes, I have. It’s nice to hear, anyway. But you got me worried. Sounds like you’re in
trouble or something.”
“I am. With you.” He looked at her and then back down. “God I dread this.”
“Darlin’, you know how we deal with problems. No beatin’ around the bush. Just say it.”
“Should’ve told you before. This might be easier if I had.”
“Jake, damn it, just tell me what you’re gettin’ at.”
“I’m attracted to men. Have been all my life. Those guys I play poker with, our friends ... we
don’t get together to play cards. We ... we have sex with each other.” He glanced at her
surprised face and winced, then shifted his eyes to the table to wait for it to come.
She stared at him a long moment. When he thought he’d hear pots and pans whizzing past
his head, he heard silence. The moment stretched before he heard her voice again.
“I wondered about that,” she finally said, almost casually. “Never really could put my finger
on it. Suspected it though—the way you guys react to each other when you’re together.
Just never was obvious.”
He lifted his head to look at her, stunned by her reaction. He knew his wife quite well. He
had seen her mad on more than a few occasions. Why wasn’t she raging? Why hadn’t she
knocked him off his chair?
Amused by his dumbfounded expression, she said: “Darlin’, I know you love me. I also
know you’re attracted to men. Found out four years ago. Just wasn’t sure those studs you
play cards with had anything to do with it.” She laughed. “A poker game! That’s what I call
inventive.”
His mouth fell open.
“Have you bowed out of this conversation?” she asked.
“Uh ... guess my head is spinning.”
“I’m not surprised. You thought I was gonna blow up.”
“Yeah ... but you knew? You knew and you didn’t say anything? You didn’t hate me for it?”
“Troubled better describes how I felt. Remember that time I made sudden plans to spend a
week in Florida with my sister? That’s when I found out. I was upset alright. I wanted to get
away and think it through, try to figure you out.”
“You never said anything,” he said in amazement. He glanced past her and another
question came to him. “How did you find out?”
“Cleaning out your closet. Every couple of years I go in to clear out the cobwebs and dead
bugs. Ran across that little video collection you’ve got hidden in there. Pretty racy stuff.”
His gaze drifted as he pictured the small stash of gay movies hidden behind a stack of
magazines in his closet. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything,” he said vaguely.
“Didn’t know what to say, or do, except to keep an eye on you.”
Jake’s gaze drifted across the room. Sally could see his confusion.
“I spent a lot of time thinking about it, Jake. One day I decided to quit worrying. It was
obvious you weren’t going to leave me. That left the possibility of you having a secret affair,
but we’re together twenty-four hours a day. We do everything together. Doesn’t leave you
much time for monkey business. I started watching you closer anyway. Noticed you staring
at other men from time to time. Seemed innocent enough. After a while, I figured it might
be nothing more than a private fantasy, even though I’ve always been prepared for the day
you would act on it.” She paused and reflected before continuing. “I never said anything
because I figured you’d get around to telling me. Here you are doing just that.”
He shook his head in disbelief. He looked at her again. “So you’re not mad at me?”
“If this had been about another woman, you’d already be dead. This is something I don’t
understand. All I know is you’re my husband. I don’t want another man. There’s no one
else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.”
“But I lied to you. Can you still trust me?”
“With all my heart, in spite of your hot little poker game. Seems to me this is Mother
Nature's work. Otherwise, who’d make a choice like that? And if that’s the case, I figured
you’d be tempted one day, and no one can deny those hunks are tempting. So where does
that leave me? You’re my husband. I love you. It’s no more complicated than that.”
Tears welled in Jake’s eyes.
“So ya’ll talked about this. Are the others planning to confess?”
Jake nodded. “They probably already have.”
Sally shook her head. “My, my, it’s gonna be a hot time in Dallas tonight. You know, that’s
what breaks my heart about this. We’ve never had such good friends. They’re fun to be
around and interesting. We had a marvelous time in New York. I can’t imagine any good
coming from those guys confessing their sins.”
“Guess it was inevitable. That business in Mexico got pretty emotional. Being away from
home made us think about what we’ve been doing. The lying got to us.”
“That’s why I trust you. Even if you lie to me, you eventually tell the truth.” She thought about
the others, how much the other wives cherished their men. It wasn’t difficult to predict their
reactions. Their lives were certain to change. Sally wondered if this revelation would
destroy their marriages. She looked back at Jake. “I suppose you all knew you’d be giving
up the poker game.”
“We knew. It was the most depressing discussion I’ve ever been a part of. I’m still
depressed. I hate it. Those guys are my friends. I don’t want to lose that. But honey, also
I'm relieved.” His eyes shifted away in thought. “Just wish I told you sooner.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Rosemary looked over at her husband’s profile on the drive back home. Without
explanation he insisted they take the children to her mother’s for the day. He drove without
speaking, looking straight ahead. From time-to-time a tear ran down his cheek. His ordeal
in Mexico must have been truly dreadful. What else could cause his tears? She assumed
he wanted to talk about it without the children present.
They rode in silence back to their small frame house. Inside, she sat beside him on the
sofa in the living room. When he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, she
placed her hand on his shoulder. Though the trauma of learning of his arrest in Mexico had
not yet settled in her heart, his return had been the answer to her life’s strongest prayers.
Now he wanted to talk. She would sit quietly and listen. Then they would put the matter
behind them.
“I haven’t been honest with you,” he began, taking her hand. “I don’t deserve to be your
husband until I am. It kills my soul to tell you this, but you have a right to know. When you
hear the truth, I hope you can find a way to forgive me. I want to love you as long as I live.”
Her nervous expression tore at his heart. He knew it would be difficult, but was more so
than he had assumed. He continued: “It’s about David and the others, all five of us. We’ve
been…” He couldn’t think of a less painful way to say it. “We’ve been sexually involved with
each other all summer. I’ve been attracted to men from my earliest memory. I thought it
would change when I got older, but it hasn’t. I should have told you before you agreed to
marry me.”
She looked at him for a long while in bewilderment. Her hand slipped from his. His
declaration conjured images she couldn’t possibly fathom. Anything so out of character
was the last thing she expected to hear. But it had been said; and as the trauma of his
ordeal in Mexico began to recede from her thoughts, an even more disturbing fear gripped
her heart. Her eyes watered and started to burn. She had interpreted infidelity within his
words—he had stated it just that clearly. She sat dismayed, in silence, staring at the low
table just beyond her knees. If there had been one stable element in her life, it was her
marriage and her belief in the man she dearly loved. Now that foundation had been shaken.
“Tim, I don’t understand,” was all she could think of to say.
He drew a pained breath and said: “Tell me in what way you don’t under-stand.”
“We’re so happy together. We have dreams. You speak of a relationship with men I know
and admire. I’m not even sure what that means, other than something that shouldn’t
happen. I heard you say it, but I don’t understand how you could be involved in such a thing.”
His heart ached beyond any pain he believed possible. As a man who would lay down his
life to protect her, he faced being the one who ultimately hurt her the most. To offer words
seemed pitifully insufficient, but her eyes pleaded for some kind of explanation.
“I’ll try to explain, but not sure I can make you understand why it happened.” He shifted his
eyes to the floor to avoid seeing her grief, though the weight of it in the room in itself was
unbearable. “Some people are attracted to both sexes. They’re born that way, both men
and women. I’m one of them. When we got married, I thought that part of me would
eventually go away, but it never did. Time only seems to make it stronger. I thought if I dealt
with it this way, your life with me wouldn’t be affected. But I learned I can’t lie to you, not
anymore.” He looked at her. “I’m so afraid you’ll leave me.”
She came to her feet almost hypnotically and took a few steps toward the window. She
stared out across the front lawn toward the street, trembling. Tim knew instinctively to give
her time to come to grips with such devastating news. She looked fragile, almost lost
standing against the glare in the window, and it made the pain in his chest feel well
deserved. No other kind of pain could have caused him to suffer more than hurting the
woman he cherished.
A few minutes passed before she turned to face him, staring for a long while before saying:
“I can’t face not having you for my husband.”
He closed his eyes. Her words flooded him with relief, but he also knew the weight of a
relentless demon would not soon come off his chest. Her struggle to forgive him would not
be quick. Well aware they had a tremendous difficulty to work through, he knew her faith
may never truly mend, that he would never again own anything its equal. He realized that
this would forever live as the most sorrowful day of his life.
Rosemary turned to look back through the window. “I can’t understand why it happened.
How a man can be involved with another that way? From the first moment I met you, I
believed you were a perfect man. I still believe that. If my husband is this way, it can’t make
me stop loving him.”
Tears had formed in his eyes. He began to come to his feet.
“Please, Tim. Don’t stand up. Please just stay where you are. I don’t want you to touch me
right now, or try to explain. I feel angry and confused. My heart feels so heavy I can’t stand
it. Give me time to think. I love you. I always will. But give me time to learn how to deal
with this.”
“Rosemary ... want me to leave the house?”
“No. I’ll go to mother’s for a while. I’ll stay with the children there. Maybe a day or two.
Please stay home. I want you to be here.”
“I won’t go anywhere. I’ll be here waiting, however long it takes.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Michelle had married a man whose world had always revolved around him. Every aspect of
Jorge’s life seemed to fall easily and naturally under his control. A born leader, his destiny
could have been nothing less than to lead. He dominated, with no conscious effort,
everyone and every circumstance he encountered.
Except her.
She remembered it all as if it had been yesterday. Even the moment he first set eyes on
her was still clear in her mind. Smitten at once, he soon found that she was a woman who
would not easily succumb to his charm. And long after she had fallen in love with him, long
after she knew she wanted to be his wife, she let him struggle in a thousand charming ways
to win her final consent. It had been the only way she could know that his love would endure.
Now she felt like she had failed him. Beyond that, she felt lost. It wasn’t so much the pangs
of a husband’s infidelity—it was simple confusion. How could a man like Jorge be drawn to
sex with other men? And since he made clear that that was the case, how had their nights
together as a man and a woman remained so tender, so often filled with passion?
Why did he seem so paranoid over the possibility of losing her?
She had never interfered with his many endeavors or business affairs, and he had always
respected her individualism in the same way. But with this he had crossed over the line,
though she wasn’t quite sure exactly how. Sitting in the chair next to his, unaware of how
much time had passed since he had made his confession, reflecting on their past lives
together, though not so certain about the future, she sensed his fidgeting and anxiety.
“You don’t understand why, do you?” he finally said.
“No, Jorge. I don’t understand it at all. I know those men, and their wives. They’ve become
my friends, too. This breaks my heart in a number of ways.” A tear formed in the corner of
her eye. He reached over to wipe it away.
“I never understood it myself,” he said. “I lived with my sexuality for many years. It made me
angry when I was young, every time I caught myself staring at another man. I finally learned
to accept it. I wanted to tell you before we married, but was afraid to. Afraid you wouldn’t
marry me. Thought we could grow old together with nothing ever coming of it. But it haunts
you, even though that counts for very little. I can’t expect you to understand these feelings,
but I came across four men who did. Men like me. Men who cherish their wives, who are
also attracted to other men. We gave in to it. I realize more now than then, it came with an
enormous price.” He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes.
“You looked frightened.”
“I am,” he said, looking back at her.
“You’re worried I’ll leave you.”
“Yes.”
Michelle looked down at the oriental carpet for a moment before her eyes returned to his.
“You must know that will never happen.”
“I have no right to make that assumption,” he said.
She never told him the story tucked in the back of her mind from the days of her youth, but
thought it might be appropriate now. She seemed at peace with herself and her
circumstances as she rested against the chairback and began.
“My father had a mistress most of his life. His children knew only because mother told us
when we got older. She never told anyone else. I remember asking her why she allowed it
all those years. She told me she loved him; that some men are hard to understand in
matters like these. She had accepted it. She said father was special, that she would not
deprive herself of such a man for having to share a small part of him with someone else.
She died very happy with her life. My father's mistress cried at her funeral.”
Jorge turned his head in thought. It was difficult to grasp the correlation, but he recognized
the fact that Michelle was telling him that love conquers anything. “Your mother was an
incredible woman, but the other woman in your father’s life was simple infidelity. It may
sound hypocritical, but I can’t condone that. A mistress isn’t the same as what we face
here. No power on earth could tempt me to be with another woman.”
Michelle cast a weak smile. “I know.”
“Then you don’t want me out of your life?”
“No. My God, Jorge, I knew I married a complicated man. There’s things about you most
people can’t begin to understand. I suppose this is one of them. I also believed you’d be
faithful. Somehow this doesn’t seem to fit in the same category with that sin. I feel
resentment and anger, but don’t really know why. Maybe because there’s a part of you that
can never belong to me.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want some time to figure out how to cope with this. And I want you to swear you’ll never
be afraid to talk to me again, no matter how difficult, no matter what it is.”
He took her hand. “I swear. I swear I’ll never keep anything from you again.”
Cancun. She had been almost breathless with relief. Though he looked like he had just
crawled up from hell, that didn’t matter—her husband had gotten home safe. She threw her
arms around his neck and noticed at once his fatigue and unwashed odor. His body felt
weak in her arms, almost as if he were on the verge of collapse. She assumed it was lack
of sleep, when in fact it was depression. Instead of asking a flurry of questions, she quietly
helped him get into bed. After helping him out of his soiled clothes she bundled them and
took them to the hamper. Returning, she folded back the sheet and stroked the side of his
unshaven face as his heavy eyes fluttered. Every few minutes for the rest of the day, she
checked on him, wondering just how long a man could sleep after going through such an
ordeal.
He awoke ten hours later, hungry.
While Linda prepared a plate of sliced cheese and apples, he waited in his favorite chair
by the pool, contemplating talking to her now. But he was still weary, too weary to set out on
this unpredictable and complicated path. The moment of truth could wait until morning. The
delay felt like a reprieve, though the prospect of a few more hours in bed and more sleep
provided little consolation. Tomorrow. First thing. He resolved to face it then.
Linda handed him the plate and sat down beside him.
“Sorry I couldn’t call you from down there,” he said.
“I got over it. Jorge filled us in on what was going on, after I put him on the spot. Then I
realized how proud I am of you. A lot of men would’ve bowed out and let Tim fend for
himself.” She looked at him for a moment, realizing she had just gone through the agony of
thinking she may never see him again. “It’s just that you don’t know the rules in a foreign
country … I learned the meaning of pure fear this week.”
“We were stuck in that room. Minutes were like hours.”
“How’s Tim?”
The image of seeing him in locked in a cell was still vivid in his mind. “Honey, you should’ve
seen his face. He was so scared. Can you imagine being told you’re going to spend the
rest of your life in prison? In Mexico for chrissake. It’s like that kind of thing can’t happen,
or shouldn’t happen, but it did. You feel so helpless.”
“Jorge didn’t sound helpless.”
David let out a weak laugh. “No, Jorge’s not helpless. I guess he’s not afraid of anything.”
He looked at her. “Must be all of that time he spent in Vietnam. The Seals got the raw end
of the deal. I guess it takes a special kind of man. That’s what they sign up for.”
He paused, struck by his overwhelming love for her. A tear formed in the corner of his eye
and trickled down his cheek.
It stunned Linda. She had never seen anything like this in him before. A chill of emotion ran
through her. She wasn’t quite sure what to say.
“What is it, David? What's wrong?”
He managed a smile. “I spent some time thinking about how much I’ve got to lose down
there.”
She took his hand and held it aside her face, almost too emotional to speak. Then she
combed her fingers through his hair and smiled. “You still look weary.”
“I am. Didn’t sleep for almost three days, not after they arrested Tim.”
Linda smiled with sympathy. “Got enough energy for a shower?”
“Yeah. Then I think I’ll lie down and watch a little TV. I’ll be back to normal tomorrow. We’ll
talk in the morning.”
She went upstairs with him to change the sheets while he showered—his sweating had
soured those he had been sleeping on. After finding a movie on TV, she propped the
pillows against the headboard; then picked up a magazine and sat down in the recliner next
to the window. David came out a few minutes later and walked over to kiss her. He was
glad she decided to stay in the room. Approaching the bed, he pulled the towel from his
waist and flung it toward the bathroom, then got in between the crisp clean sheets.
He was asleep before the first scene in the movie had come to an end.
The next morning, sitting on the edge of the bed, she watched him go through the motions
of getting dressed. “I went over to the office a couple of times while you were gone.
Everything’s running smoothly.”
David didn’t reply. He seemed distracted. When he walked out of the bedroom he
appeared to be a fog of gloom. She entered the kitchen a few minutes behind him. He
was sitting at the table, no coffee, no newspaper, his face down with fingers locked behind
his neck.
She placed a cup of coffee in front of him and sat down. He had returned from Mexico
exhausted, but she had seen him exhausted before. This was different. Something
troubled him. “David,” she said quietly, “I’m worried about you.”
He never dreaded anything more. It was nearly impossible to lift his head to look at her. A
glance and he looked away. From the moment he awoke, his stomach had not stopped
churning. The words he was about to say would change his life forever. Just thinking about
saying them left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was no good way to begin, nothing that
might soften the blow.
“Why are you so quiet? Did something happen down there you haven’t told me?” She
watched him for a moment. “David ...”
He finally looked up. His heart fell with a glimpse of her face. “Oh God!” he gasped. The
agony tore through his chest like a shredder. On the verge of possibly losing her, he felt a
disabling rush of panic. His hands knotted as he forced himself to speak. “There is
something I haven’t told you.” He closed his eyes at the sound of his own voice. He drew in
a breath and called up the last remnants of his resolve. “I should’ve told you a long time
ago. It’s about me. Something you don’t know. This summer I let it influence my
judgment.” He took one last deep breath. “All five of us ... me, James, Tim, Jorge and Jake
have been intimate with each other.” His eyes closed again.
“What!”
His jaw tightened. He said it. He got it out. There was no going back now, no choice but to
continue. “I’m bisexual. So are the others. We’ve been going to bed together.”
She smiled wryly. Whatever was bothering him, at least he attempted to gloss it over with
his sense of humor. She stared at him for a moment. An odd silence followed, awkward,
like being in the vague margins of a bad dream. It became obvious he wasn’t trying to be
funny. His demeanor suddenly frightened her, that look of a frightened animal in his eyes.
His statement seeped into her consciousness like a dull ache. She began to grasp the
words that had come at her like the strike of a snake. Her smile evaporated as she
continued to stare, watching his eyes fix on the table.
“You didn’t say that,” she said, the smile now gone. Her heart quickened. Her thoughts
reeled in disarray. All of the anxiety she suffered while he was in Mexico melted into a
smoldering confusion of anger. She wanted to shake her head, shake those words out of
her brain and begin the morning all over again. Their many years together flashed through
her mind as if they were suddenly slipping from her grasp.
“You didn’t say that!” she said, coming to her feet, stunned, stepping half way across the
kitchen. She turned and narrowed her eyes on him, her voice now harsh. “You didn’t say
that!” she said louder, then moved about the kitchen in an aimless daze. “You didn’t say
that!” she screamed, her anger feeding on its own momentum, expanding into pure rage.
She grabbed a glass off the counter and shards of glass flew across the kitchen when it
exploded against the brick wall behind the stove.
She turned again and glared at him. The reality of an upside down world had taken its
grip. She had heard stories like this, where husbands come home and drop bombshells on
their wives, but it never occurred to her that David would be one of them. “You bastard!
You fucking bastard!” she raged. “How dare you do this to us! How dare you!”
When he looked up she was gone. David guessed she had gone upstairs to their
bedroom. No, there was no going back now, not ever. He expected her reaction, though it
helped little in deciding what to do as the fear of losing her pounded away in his brain. He
sat staring into space for a few minutes before getting to his feet and starting for the stairs.
His heart felt like lead as he stood in the doorframe and looked at her sitting at her dressing
table, sobbing. “Linda...” he said, his voice broken and weak with remorse.
She turned with a start. “You came back home after scaring me to death and then tell me
something like that! I can’t believe it! You just told me you’re gay. Why didn’t I know? How
did I live with you twenty years and not know, not realize something that should’ve been
obvious?”
“I’m not gay,” he said defensively.
“You’re not! You’re fucking other men, or whatever you do together, and you’re not gay!
You said you’ve been intimate with them for godsake!”
“None of us are gay. We’re bisexual.”
“Oh! I see! What’s the damn difference?”
“We all have wives we love,” he said, his defenseless sincerity falling on deaf ears.
“You bastard! You have the nerve to say that now!”
“It didn’t happen because of you. It’s not your fault.”
“That’s a good one! Here’s another one. Get your suitcase, pack it and get out! I’m going
out to the back yard. When I come back in, I want you gone.”
David wiped away a tear and stepped out of her way as she brushed by. He felt weak,
vulnerable, his arms hung like useless weight. He never imagined such overwhelming
sorrow. He walked in a daze across the room. A cold empty chill filled his chest as he
entered the closet and reached to the top shelf for his suitcase.
♦ ♦ ♦
Returning from her mother’s house, Shasha drove impatiently to get back home, eager to
hear more about what happened in Mexico. She still didn’t understand why James wanted
her to take the girls to her mother’s for the day. She maneuvered through the traffic with a
sense of apprehension, fully aware that from the moment of Tim’s arrest, the vibrant man
she had married had been a wreck. It had taken him twenty-four hours just to catch up on
his sleep, and when he finally woke up he seemed troubled. Accustomed to a husband with
a stoic, practical demeanor, it bothered her to see him so emotional when he walked her
and the girls to the car.
She found him waiting by the pool. She sat beside him for a long moment before he turned
to look at her. He appeared slightly calmer than he had been, but she saw at once that
same fear in his dark eyes.
“Shasha, telling you this is the most difficult thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
She leaned back in the chair, alarmed. She had never heard this tone in his voice before.
It made her nervous.
Unable to look at her, he stared past his feet as he spoke. “I’ve known since I was a boy.
Tried to bury it all these years, but it never goes away.” He found the courage to look at her
before going on. “It’s who I am. …That last year in graduate school, I was involved in a
sexual relationship with my roommate.”
She tensed, remembering her brief acquaintance with his roommate, a strapping athletic
type James had played football with. Her eyes darted about as if his words had scrambled
her thoughts, like something inside her head was banging at her skull to get out and disrupt
her life. She heard what he said, but her mind was loath to picture her virile husband having
sex with another man. Staggered, she looked at him and said: “You what?”
Despite the sudden overwhelming feel of falling through space, he found the resolve to go
on. “I should have told you then. I’m telling you now because there’s more.” He reached up
to rub his eyes. “I let it happen with Randal thinking I could get it out of my system before
you and I got married. It didn’t work. The men I see on Thursday nights, including David,
are all bisexual.” He paused. When he looked up, she was staring glassy-eyed at the
pool. “The poker game was a means for us to get together. We felt if we could deal with it
that way, we could go on without it affecting our lives.”
He waited for her response, a silence equal to torture.
There was an expression of disbelief on her face when she looked at him. “So you’re not
going to tell me this is all a bad joke, are you?”
“No.”
“You’re having sex with those men?”
“Yes.”
Her thoughts for a moment seemed like wheels spinning on a slot machine. When she had
expected to hear more about what happened in Mexico, she heard instead her husband
admit to a sexual relationship with other men. Not just other men—her best friend’s
husband. She wanted to refuse to believe it, but the anxiety etched on his face made it as
real as a slap.
“It can’t be,” she finally said. “Three daughters depend on you. You can’t be telling me this!”
He reached for her forearm and she recoiled.
“You know what?” she snapped. “I hate you. I almost lost my mind with worry while you
were in Mexico, and you come home and tell me this! I just fucking hate you. You’ve let me
believe all this time we have this picture-perfect marriage, beautiful home, happy family,
when all the while you’re gay!”
“Shasha, I...”
“Shut-up!” She stood and walked to the edge of the pool, then turned. “That’s it, James, I
hate you. I hate you for making me hate the man I love. You’ve known all along and let me
believe you love me.”
“I do...”
“I said shut-up! I don’t want to hear another word out of your fucking mouth!” She turned her
head in anger. Then her ranting continued. “It was too good to be true. Everything was too
perfect. How stupid of me.” She looked at him. “How can you be so convincing when you
make love to me? How can you pretend to enjoy it so?”
He knew better than to answer.
Staring at him, the more she thought about it, the angrier she became. That his duplicity
had been ongoing since college was more than she could fathom. That her best friend’s
husband was involved was beyond comprehension. “David, too?” she said helplessly.
He nodded.
“Is he going to tell Linda?”
He nodded again.
“Well James, you’ve both succeeded in fucking up the whole picture. I guess I’d just like to
blow my brains out, because I’m not sure I can deal with this. Thanks to you … a fucking
stranger pretending to be my husband all these years, I feel like I’m suddenly going
insane.” She stared at him a moment, unable to believe the man she knew so well had just
admitted to being queer. She had no idea what to say, other than rant, to simply blurt out
her emotions. The tragic expression on his face somehow made it worse. “But you know
what?” she continued. “I’m just going to have to pull myself together because I have three
daughters. Unlike you, one of us has to be responsible for their well-being.”
He gritted his teeth. Her words delivered their intended painful effect.
“So don’t worry, James. I won’t blow my brains out. I’ll take care of the girls. You can go off
romping with your boyfriends. Just don’t worry about a goddamn thing, except where you’re
going to live, because it ain’t going to be here, you bastard!” Her fist flew to her lips.
“Damn you!” She lowered her head and rubbed her brow before she continued. “I’m
getting in my car and going for a drive. When I get back, have your goddamn clothes
packed and your ass out of my house.”
Tears formed in her eyes as she stared at him a final moment. Then she turned and hurried
toward the garage.
♦ ♦ ♦
Sally left the restaurant and pulled into her driveway shortly after eleven PM. Jake had
gotten home from Mexico the morning before. He slept the whole day and most of the
night. He obviously needed one more day to recover, so she had insisted he stay home
from work today. Anxious to get home, she wanted to check on him and hear more about
their Mexico adventure.
She found him at the kitchen table, sitting in the dark. His hair askew, he sat hunched over
the table on his elbows, staring into space. She turned on the small light over the sink to
illuminate the room a bit. Bewildered, she took the chair next to his, concerned, his face
weighted with gloom.
“Thought you’d be rested by now. You still look tired.”
He didn’t look at her or reply, his eyes watery.
“Lord only knows what you guys went through. I can only imagine. Must’ve been awfully
hard on Tim in that jail.”
Jake took a deep breath, braced for all hell to break loose. “There’s something about me
you don’t know.”
She doubted this.
“About me and the others.”
She stared at him, waiting for him to go on.
“We talked on the way home. Made a decision. We all agreed to tell our wives.”
She tilted her head quizzically. “Tell us what?”
“You won’t like it.” He paused. He had spent the last several hours thinking about all their
years together, all the trust she had invested in him, how they slaved together during the
early years, constantly on the verge of losing their business. “Just know before I say it that I
love you more than I ever have.”
Caught by surprise, she said: “Jake, you haven’t said that in a long time.”
“Well, you’ve known it.”
“Yes, I have. It’s nice to hear, anyway. But you got me worried. Sounds like you’re in
trouble or something.”
“I am. With you.” He looked at her and then back down. “God I dread this.”
“Darlin’, you know how we deal with problems. No beatin’ around the bush. Just say it.”
“Should’ve told you before. This might be easier if I had.”
“Jake, damn it, just tell me what you’re gettin’ at.”
“I’m attracted to men. Have been all my life. Those guys I play poker with, our friends ... we
don’t get together to play cards. We ... we have sex with each other.” He glanced at her
surprised face and winced, then shifted his eyes to the table to wait for it to come.
She stared at him a long moment. When he thought he’d hear pots and pans whizzing past
his head, he heard silence. The moment stretched before he heard her voice again.
“I wondered about that,” she finally said, almost casually. “Never really could put my finger
on it. Suspected it though—the way you guys react to each other when you’re together.
Just never was obvious.”
He lifted his head to look at her, stunned by her reaction. He knew his wife quite well. He
had seen her mad on more than a few occasions. Why wasn’t she raging? Why hadn’t she
knocked him off his chair?
Amused by his dumbfounded expression, she said: “Darlin’, I know you love me. I also
know you’re attracted to men. Found out four years ago. Just wasn’t sure those studs you
play cards with had anything to do with it.” She laughed. “A poker game! That’s what I call
inventive.”
His mouth fell open.
“Have you bowed out of this conversation?” she asked.
“Uh ... guess my head is spinning.”
“I’m not surprised. You thought I was gonna blow up.”
“Yeah ... but you knew? You knew and you didn’t say anything? You didn’t hate me for it?”
“Troubled better describes how I felt. Remember that time I made sudden plans to spend a
week in Florida with my sister? That’s when I found out. I was upset alright. I wanted to get
away and think it through, try to figure you out.”
“You never said anything,” he said in amazement. He glanced past her and another
question came to him. “How did you find out?”
“Cleaning out your closet. Every couple of years I go in to clear out the cobwebs and dead
bugs. Ran across that little video collection you’ve got hidden in there. Pretty racy stuff.”
His gaze drifted as he pictured the small stash of gay movies hidden behind a stack of
magazines in his closet. “I can’t believe you didn’t say anything,” he said vaguely.
“Didn’t know what to say, or do, except to keep an eye on you.”
Jake’s gaze drifted across the room. Sally could see his confusion.
“I spent a lot of time thinking about it, Jake. One day I decided to quit worrying. It was
obvious you weren’t going to leave me. That left the possibility of you having a secret affair,
but we’re together twenty-four hours a day. We do everything together. Doesn’t leave you
much time for monkey business. I started watching you closer anyway. Noticed you staring
at other men from time to time. Seemed innocent enough. After a while, I figured it might
be nothing more than a private fantasy, even though I’ve always been prepared for the day
you would act on it.” She paused and reflected before continuing. “I never said anything
because I figured you’d get around to telling me. Here you are doing just that.”
He shook his head in disbelief. He looked at her again. “So you’re not mad at me?”
“If this had been about another woman, you’d already be dead. This is something I don’t
understand. All I know is you’re my husband. I don’t want another man. There’s no one
else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with.”
“But I lied to you. Can you still trust me?”
“With all my heart, in spite of your hot little poker game. Seems to me this is Mother
Nature's work. Otherwise, who’d make a choice like that? And if that’s the case, I figured
you’d be tempted one day, and no one can deny those hunks are tempting. So where does
that leave me? You’re my husband. I love you. It’s no more complicated than that.”
Tears welled in Jake’s eyes.
“So ya’ll talked about this. Are the others planning to confess?”
Jake nodded. “They probably already have.”
Sally shook her head. “My, my, it’s gonna be a hot time in Dallas tonight. You know, that’s
what breaks my heart about this. We’ve never had such good friends. They’re fun to be
around and interesting. We had a marvelous time in New York. I can’t imagine any good
coming from those guys confessing their sins.”
“Guess it was inevitable. That business in Mexico got pretty emotional. Being away from
home made us think about what we’ve been doing. The lying got to us.”
“That’s why I trust you. Even if you lie to me, you eventually tell the truth.” She thought about
the others, how much the other wives cherished their men. It wasn’t difficult to predict their
reactions. Their lives were certain to change. Sally wondered if this revelation would
destroy their marriages. She looked back at Jake. “I suppose you all knew you’d be giving
up the poker game.”
“We knew. It was the most depressing discussion I’ve ever been a part of. I’m still
depressed. I hate it. Those guys are my friends. I don’t want to lose that. But honey, also
I'm relieved.” His eyes shifted away in thought. “Just wish I told you sooner.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Rosemary looked over at her husband’s profile on the drive back home. Without
explanation he insisted they take the children to her mother’s for the day. He drove without
speaking, looking straight ahead. From time-to-time a tear ran down his cheek. His ordeal
in Mexico must have been truly dreadful. What else could cause his tears? She assumed
he wanted to talk about it without the children present.
They rode in silence back to their small frame house. Inside, she sat beside him on the
sofa in the living room. When he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, she
placed her hand on his shoulder. Though the trauma of learning of his arrest in Mexico had
not yet settled in her heart, his return had been the answer to her life’s strongest prayers.
Now he wanted to talk. She would sit quietly and listen. Then they would put the matter
behind them.
“I haven’t been honest with you,” he began, taking her hand. “I don’t deserve to be your
husband until I am. It kills my soul to tell you this, but you have a right to know. When you
hear the truth, I hope you can find a way to forgive me. I want to love you as long as I live.”
Her nervous expression tore at his heart. He knew it would be difficult, but was more so
than he had assumed. He continued: “It’s about David and the others, all five of us. We’ve
been…” He couldn’t think of a less painful way to say it. “We’ve been sexually involved with
each other all summer. I’ve been attracted to men from my earliest memory. I thought it
would change when I got older, but it hasn’t. I should have told you before you agreed to
marry me.”
She looked at him for a long while in bewilderment. Her hand slipped from his. His
declaration conjured images she couldn’t possibly fathom. Anything so out of character
was the last thing she expected to hear. But it had been said; and as the trauma of his
ordeal in Mexico began to recede from her thoughts, an even more disturbing fear gripped
her heart. Her eyes watered and started to burn. She had interpreted infidelity within his
words—he had stated it just that clearly. She sat dismayed, in silence, staring at the low
table just beyond her knees. If there had been one stable element in her life, it was her
marriage and her belief in the man she dearly loved. Now that foundation had been shaken.
“Tim, I don’t understand,” was all she could think of to say.
He drew a pained breath and said: “Tell me in what way you don’t under-stand.”
“We’re so happy together. We have dreams. You speak of a relationship with men I know
and admire. I’m not even sure what that means, other than something that shouldn’t
happen. I heard you say it, but I don’t understand how you could be involved in such a thing.”
His heart ached beyond any pain he believed possible. As a man who would lay down his
life to protect her, he faced being the one who ultimately hurt her the most. To offer words
seemed pitifully insufficient, but her eyes pleaded for some kind of explanation.
“I’ll try to explain, but not sure I can make you understand why it happened.” He shifted his
eyes to the floor to avoid seeing her grief, though the weight of it in the room in itself was
unbearable. “Some people are attracted to both sexes. They’re born that way, both men
and women. I’m one of them. When we got married, I thought that part of me would
eventually go away, but it never did. Time only seems to make it stronger. I thought if I dealt
with it this way, your life with me wouldn’t be affected. But I learned I can’t lie to you, not
anymore.” He looked at her. “I’m so afraid you’ll leave me.”
She came to her feet almost hypnotically and took a few steps toward the window. She
stared out across the front lawn toward the street, trembling. Tim knew instinctively to give
her time to come to grips with such devastating news. She looked fragile, almost lost
standing against the glare in the window, and it made the pain in his chest feel well
deserved. No other kind of pain could have caused him to suffer more than hurting the
woman he cherished.
A few minutes passed before she turned to face him, staring for a long while before saying:
“I can’t face not having you for my husband.”
He closed his eyes. Her words flooded him with relief, but he also knew the weight of a
relentless demon would not soon come off his chest. Her struggle to forgive him would not
be quick. Well aware they had a tremendous difficulty to work through, he knew her faith
may never truly mend, that he would never again own anything its equal. He realized that
this would forever live as the most sorrowful day of his life.
Rosemary turned to look back through the window. “I can’t understand why it happened.
How a man can be involved with another that way? From the first moment I met you, I
believed you were a perfect man. I still believe that. If my husband is this way, it can’t make
me stop loving him.”
Tears had formed in his eyes. He began to come to his feet.
“Please, Tim. Don’t stand up. Please just stay where you are. I don’t want you to touch me
right now, or try to explain. I feel angry and confused. My heart feels so heavy I can’t stand
it. Give me time to think. I love you. I always will. But give me time to learn how to deal
with this.”
“Rosemary ... want me to leave the house?”
“No. I’ll go to mother’s for a while. I’ll stay with the children there. Maybe a day or two.
Please stay home. I want you to be here.”
“I won’t go anywhere. I’ll be here waiting, however long it takes.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Michelle had married a man whose world had always revolved around him. Every aspect of
Jorge’s life seemed to fall easily and naturally under his control. A born leader, his destiny
could have been nothing less than to lead. He dominated, with no conscious effort,
everyone and every circumstance he encountered.
Except her.
She remembered it all as if it had been yesterday. Even the moment he first set eyes on
her was still clear in her mind. Smitten at once, he soon found that she was a woman who
would not easily succumb to his charm. And long after she had fallen in love with him, long
after she knew she wanted to be his wife, she let him struggle in a thousand charming ways
to win her final consent. It had been the only way she could know that his love would endure.
Now she felt like she had failed him. Beyond that, she felt lost. It wasn’t so much the pangs
of a husband’s infidelity—it was simple confusion. How could a man like Jorge be drawn to
sex with other men? And since he made clear that that was the case, how had their nights
together as a man and a woman remained so tender, so often filled with passion?
Why did he seem so paranoid over the possibility of losing her?
She had never interfered with his many endeavors or business affairs, and he had always
respected her individualism in the same way. But with this he had crossed over the line,
though she wasn’t quite sure exactly how. Sitting in the chair next to his, unaware of how
much time had passed since he had made his confession, reflecting on their past lives
together, though not so certain about the future, she sensed his fidgeting and anxiety.
“You don’t understand why, do you?” he finally said.
“No, Jorge. I don’t understand it at all. I know those men, and their wives. They’ve become
my friends, too. This breaks my heart in a number of ways.” A tear formed in the corner of
her eye. He reached over to wipe it away.
“I never understood it myself,” he said. “I lived with my sexuality for many years. It made me
angry when I was young, every time I caught myself staring at another man. I finally learned
to accept it. I wanted to tell you before we married, but was afraid to. Afraid you wouldn’t
marry me. Thought we could grow old together with nothing ever coming of it. But it haunts
you, even though that counts for very little. I can’t expect you to understand these feelings,
but I came across four men who did. Men like me. Men who cherish their wives, who are
also attracted to other men. We gave in to it. I realize more now than then, it came with an
enormous price.” He lowered his head and rubbed his eyes.
“You looked frightened.”
“I am,” he said, looking back at her.
“You’re worried I’ll leave you.”
“Yes.”
Michelle looked down at the oriental carpet for a moment before her eyes returned to his.
“You must know that will never happen.”
“I have no right to make that assumption,” he said.
She never told him the story tucked in the back of her mind from the days of her youth, but
thought it might be appropriate now. She seemed at peace with herself and her
circumstances as she rested against the chairback and began.
“My father had a mistress most of his life. His children knew only because mother told us
when we got older. She never told anyone else. I remember asking her why she allowed it
all those years. She told me she loved him; that some men are hard to understand in
matters like these. She had accepted it. She said father was special, that she would not
deprive herself of such a man for having to share a small part of him with someone else.
She died very happy with her life. My father's mistress cried at her funeral.”
Jorge turned his head in thought. It was difficult to grasp the correlation, but he recognized
the fact that Michelle was telling him that love conquers anything. “Your mother was an
incredible woman, but the other woman in your father’s life was simple infidelity. It may
sound hypocritical, but I can’t condone that. A mistress isn’t the same as what we face
here. No power on earth could tempt me to be with another woman.”
Michelle cast a weak smile. “I know.”
“Then you don’t want me out of your life?”
“No. My God, Jorge, I knew I married a complicated man. There’s things about you most
people can’t begin to understand. I suppose this is one of them. I also believed you’d be
faithful. Somehow this doesn’t seem to fit in the same category with that sin. I feel
resentment and anger, but don’t really know why. Maybe because there’s a part of you that
can never belong to me.”
“What do you want me to do?”
“I want some time to figure out how to cope with this. And I want you to swear you’ll never
be afraid to talk to me again, no matter how difficult, no matter what it is.”
He took her hand. “I swear. I swear I’ll never keep anything from you again.”