The Moving Finger Writes

I had the evidence that it had happened. Consequently, I had no choice but to confront Sal as soon as possible. Otherwise, I would spend the rest of my days calling myself a coward. I knew that that conversation would be full of alienation and anguish. So, maybe you can understand why I spent several hours thinking through the best way to approach the discussion.

Our life together had been perfect, and there was every indication it would remain that way if I just ignored what I knew. So, why was I compelled to blow things up? It wasn't out of anger or jealousy. It was the belief that I'd be selling myself out if I didn't do it. Honor demands certain obligations from a person. One is that you never waffle when faced with the truth. That applies to both men and women.

Alright then!!... How do I do this? I was counting on the fact that neither Sal nor I wanted to appear vindictive. Hence, I hoped we could work this through like two rational adults. Of course, we would have a different discussion if Sal tried to lie, justify, or deflect. But I doubted that. We'd always treated each other with respect.

My wife was waiting for me with two macchiatos and a loving smile. She was her usual sharp and energetic self. Dang!! This was going to be more complicated than I thought!! I sat down, trying not to tip my hand. The last thing I wanted was to have an embarrassing public scene.

I didn't need to try because my wife wasn't paying attention to me. She launched into an enthusiastic, "You won't believe what happened to me today." I could guess. But I cocked an eyebrow and made a "continue" gesture.

Sal said, with canary feathers sticking out of the corners of her mouth, "The Classical Studies Center is fully funded. The money hit our bank bright and early this morning." I continued to stare rather than jumping to my feet in jubilation and dancing her around the room.

Sal missed that cue entirely. Instead, she gushed, "We got twenty-six-point-three million from a single donor. It was one of the largest gifts we've ever received, and I got the credit for closing the deal!!"

No shit!! I have a picture of THAT occasion.

Sal added triumphantly, "Lawton told me that they are moving him up to VP for Development and me into his Associate Dean slot. What do you think about that?" She sat there smiling, looking very pleased with herself.

My first thought was that my wife was delusional. But I also understood. Sal is a super competitive woman. Hence, she had convinced herself or been gaslighted into believing she was responsible for bringing in all that money.

I continued to stare impassively at her. She finally read my look and a cloud passed across her face. I said abruptly, "Let's do this at home."

She looked puzzled, then annoyed. The walk to the stop and the commute were in silence. I didn't feel like bantering, and Sal acted like she was trying to figure out what the fuck was wrong with me.

When we got home, I gestured to our Ojai sofa and said, "Sit." I poured her a tulip glass of Bristol Cream and put it in front of her. Then I sat beside her, took her dainty hands in mine, and studied her beautiful face. She looked worried now.

I said firmly, "This much I know for sure. You spent Friday night fucking Herbert Pullerman of Deep Harbor Holdings. My only question is what you did after that."

Sal gasped. Her normally dusky complexion turned ivory. She snatched both hands away and put them to her delectable chest - just staring at me wide-eyed, mouth hanging open. Then her head slumped. She hadn't fainted. It looked like she had retreated deep within herself. Finally, she raised her head and slowly opened her eyes. There was nothing but desolation in them.

She said, in a pathetic whimper, "How did you find out?"

I had the picture with me. I dropped it in front of my wife and said, "They put this on the website. It was a tiny and indistinguishable part of another picture, so you're safe. I found it because I was looking for anything that you were in, and I'm one of the few people capable of digging it out."

I added bitterly, "I wanted Something I could tease you with. I don't think this qualifies."

I could tell that my wife was working hard to compose herself. Sal is a strong person. She has her pride just like I do. Finally, she said, voice husky with emotion, "What do you want to know? I won't hold anything back. I'll be honest with you."

I said, "Well... my first question is, how long have you and Fuller been planning this? I knew you were up to Something when you held me at arm's length before leaving. But how long has this been going on? I know that d-bag would love to turn me into a cuck. But exactly when did you get on board with betraying me?"

That was harsh but merited. My wife's head rocked back as if I had hit her. She said, shaken and with tears in her voice, "That wasn't it at all. Lawton was the one who handled Pullerman. They had been in and out of our office working on the deal all fall. Lawton planned to close it at the Summit." I nodded. Okay, that made sense.

She continued tearfully, "Lawton told me that Pullerman was a hound. But he was particularly attracted to me. So, I could grease the skids if I just dressed sexily and flirted with him."

I jumped in sourly, "And, of course, you didn't want me there because my presence would cramp your style."

She sniffed and said, "Yes, but I never intended to do anything more than just flirt - maybe let him take a few liberties while we were dancing, you know... like cop a quick feel. I knew I would be safe because Millie was watching my back."

She added, beginning to cry, "Then Millie wasn't there when I arrived."

I said, "Fuller called Mille Friday morning and told her that her services weren't required. We both wondered why he'd done that. Now I know. He wanted to remove your safety net."

I smacked my right fist into my left hand and added angrily, "The fucker planned this!!" That's when I decided that very bad things would happen to Lawton Fuller.

Sal continued softly. But her voice was indignant, "It was like Lawton had set it up with Pullerman in advance. He was fat, loud, obnoxious, and totally full of himself. Even worse, he acted as if he owned me from the moment I arrived."

I knew there were a few unpleasant surprises in Pullerman's future too. He might be wealthy and entitled in this world. But that wasn't the only one he lived in.

Sal said, utterly disgusted with herself, "Herb was all over me at the party. I put up with it because Fuller had told me to play up to him. Both those guys kept handing me glasses of champagne, and I lost track of how much I'd had to drink."

She stopped, gave me a rueful look, and said, "You don't need to tell me. I know that I was being set up."

She made a sad face and said, "Herb kept fondling and stroking me while we danced. I allowed him to do it because that was part of Lawton's plan. You would have hated it. But it was nothing too far over the line. Unfortunately for me though, I was really drunk, and his constant caresses and touches managed to light my fire." She added guiltily, "You know how I get."

Sal stopped, composed herself, and said, "I don't recall much after that. But I DO remember him steering me to a couch. As soon as we sat down, he grabbed me and kissed me. I tried to push him off. But he was a lot bigger and stronger than I was."

My wife paused and added in a quavering voice, "Then he began aggressively playing with my pussy, and I lost it." She said, shamefaced, "You have the picture of what happened next."

I knew it was coming. But it was still like an electric shock. I said coldly, "How many times?"

Sal blanched, but she'd promised me the truth. She said, "I had already come spectacularly on his fingers. And I was out of my mind when he dragged me to his room. We fucked there, and then he woke me up in the middle of the night, and we did it again. He was a lousy lover. But I don't need much encouragement."

She steeled herself and added ruefully, "We fucked again in the early morning with me on top. Herb had come too quickly the previous times, and I needed some release. He really was a selfish pig. She finished, cringing, "I wasn't drunk then. So, that one was a little less like date rape."

My simmering rage must have broken through the stoic face I was trying to maintain. Sal flinched. She looked at me mournfully, gave a self-deprecating laugh, and said, "That's the sad story of my demise. I'm so very sorry." The last was said with hope in her voice.

I hated to break it to her. But she'd left off a few essential details. I said with an edge in my voice, "What happened Sunday? You took your time getting home."

Rather than reacting uncomfortably, Sal got a look of outrage on her face. She said vehemently, "Saturday was hell. I woke up with a killer hangover. Herb was still asleep, snoring like a warthog. I grabbed my stuff and slunk off to my room. Thank God, nobody saw me.

Then she got a frantic look and said, "I stood in the shower just crying. Then I sucked it up, dressed, and went down to the conference. Herb spent all morning acting like the two of us shared an intimate secret."

She paused and added ruefully, "Which I guess we did. Herb kept touching me and trying to put his arm around me."

My wife grimaced and added, "Everybody saw it. I was totally humiliated. I put up with it until noon because I still had my presentation, and I just couldn't cause a scene. Afterward, I told Lawton I was leaving."

I laughed and said, "Let me guess... Your boss pitched a fit."

Sal gave me a rueful smile and said, "I said that I was getting tired of being groped. So, I was going to leave, or I would break a few of Herb's fat fingers -- his choice. The last thing Lawton wanted was to cause trouble with a donor. So, he finally agreed."

Sal added, "His only condition was that we meet on Sunday to plot our closing strategy." Sal's face changed to self-loathing as she said, "And I was stupid enough to believe him."

Sal composed herself and said, "We planned to get together at 10:00 in the Bistro in the lobby. He didn't show up until 10:30 and proceeded to stall for about an hour, talking about trivial things. When Herb walked in at 11:35, I knew it was another ambush."

I interjected angrily, "Let me guess. Lover Boy told you he would give the University the money if you just gave him a bit extra to sweeten the deal."

Sal said, "Something like that... His pitch was that I'd rocked his world and that he was in love with me. By that point, I was so disgusted with him...." She hesitated and said, "No, really -- I was disgusted with myself... That I let them both have it."

There was a short lightning bolt of pure angst before I realized she wasn't talking about a threesome. That reaction further cemented how fucked up the whole situation was.

Sal said, "I only had one thing I could use to make them leave me alone. So, I told them I was considering filing a rape charge if Herb didn't back off."

She added angrily, "They both laughed at me. They said that nobody would believe that it wasn't consensual. I told them that my allegations might be hard to prove. But I would cry rape until its stink was all over both of them, and it would stay that way for a long time. They're both married, which would, at a minimum, raise suspicion. That got their undivided attention."

Sal stopped and gave me a sad look. She said, "That was when Lawton pointed out that YOU would be the one who would be hurt the most by my allegations. His exact words were, 'I can't wait to see how the cuck handles THAT."

"So, we all agreed that Herb would donate the money as he promised, and I would act as if nothing had happened. I DID tell Herb that I would take my story to the Boston Globe or, better yet, the Enquirer if he EVER tried to contact me. You should have seen the look on his fat face."

I said, "Okay, even if I believe you - and I guess I do -- there's still an hour or so unaccounted for."

Sal gave me a weary smile and said, "On the way home, I just sat at Fresh Pond, trying to screw up my courage to act normal. The last thing I wanted was to make you suspicious."

I hated to break it to my wife, but I could sense that we were no longer on the same page the minute she walked in the door. That was how tight our bond had been. And yet, I believed her. It just sounded so genuine. There was absolutely no cunning or guilt as she recounted the events of Sunday, just anger. Nobody can manufacture such convincingly valid emotions for such an intricate story.

The rage drained from me like the blow-off from a steam engine. Sally had done the deed. But she'd taken ownership of it. More significantly, there had been no mens rea -- no "guilty mind." I was utterly confident that this was not something my wife had set out to do. I didn't know what to think.

Sal had been instructed by her boss to give Pullerman a girlfriend experience - play up to the man, stroke his ego. You can judge the morality of that as you like. But the intent was clear. She'd never anticipated having direct sexual contact with Pullerman. That much was obvious.

Even so, Fuller had manipulated my wife to a point where Pullerman could tap into her passionate nature. In fact, He might've even coached Fatso about how to do it. So, the two of them had leveraged Sal's intrinsic need to win, along with a lot of champagne, to get past her defenses.

I was absolutely convinced that Sally wasn't attracted to Pullerman. I mean, seriously!! Who'd be drawn to all that fat? But Fuller had told Sal to make Pullerman happy. So, my wife had held her nose and played up to Fatso to close the deal.

I was sure Sal thought she was only doing her job. Flirting is a skill all women possess, and a woman as gorgeous and sexy as my wife must know every trick in the book. But she had to get into the "role" - so to speak - to make it credible.

So, she'd accepted the drinks and allowed the man to touch her in intimate places - all motivated by a twenty-six-million-dollar pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. The problem was the alcohol and stimulation had put Sal in a place that she had never meant to be. And she had responded in a way that she had never expected she would.

Sally might've initially felt astonishment or even fear when Pullerman charged over the line. But her libido was high, and her defenses were low. So unsurprisingly, she'd slid down the magical rabbit hole into the land of unmindful sexual bliss, where all consciousness is submerged in pure sensation. Of course, none of those rationalizations changed the reality. Our old marriage was over.

The intense feeling of loss saddened me. But I said firmly to Sal, "Thank you for your honesty. It shows me how much you love me. But there is no way we can continue our lives like last weekend never happened." I paused for effect and added, "That man will always be in the background -- like the uninvited guest at a wedding."

She nodded unhappily. I loved her. She loved me. But there was no way I could accept being tunnel buddies with Herbert J. Pullerman. Sal began to silently cry. I added, my voice sounding grim, "Our marriage bond vanished when you let that fat fucker put his dick in you."

She wailed, "But I only love and want you."

I said quietly, "I believe you. But there is no marriage without exclusiveness. And our relationship isn't special anymore, is it? I won't be able to make love to you and not visualize the look of total sexual abandon on your face while he fingered you. It isn't possible."

Sally howled, lept forward, threw her arms around my neck, and buried her face in my chest. As she wept, I said to the top of her head, "I've had all day to think about this. And I want you to know that I still love you, and I want you. But I think the only solution is to go our separate ways. We need to find each other all over again."

She stopped crying and reared her head back with hope written on her gorgeous, snotty-nosed face. She said, "I'll do anything. What would it involve?"

I moved her so that she was facing me, hiccupping adorably. I said, "I've thought about this every way you can, and the only resolution I can think of is that we separate. Then we live our lives like we never met... with the understanding that destiny will bring us back together if that's what's supposed to happen. I imagine that the new-age types would call it karma."

I was surprised at how ridiculous that sounded, even to me. Unfortunately, though, I also knew that it was the only option we had. We needed a total reset. Or, as the saying goes, I had to turn Sal loose. If she returned to me, then it was meant to be. If she didn't... well ... then I would have my answer.

And yes, I was aware that it was the height of insanity to toss the love of my life back into the dating pool, hoping we would find our way back to each other. I mean, Sal had already failed once, and that was under the old rules.

Still, I could NOT merely accept her betrayal. It was a problem that I was unable to solve. Thus, the only viable option was to spin fortune's wheel and let fate decide. I was yet to find out how that gamble would pay off. But I would consider it destiny's irrefutable judgment if we made our way back to each other in the end.

I might be a scientist by trade. But truthfully... deep down, I'm as superstitious as a medieval peasant. In fact, I think we all are. Seriously! I genuinely believed that blind fate moves us to some unknown final destination. And as a result, I was ready to place my bet and let the fickle bitch spin her celestial wheel - where it stopped... I definitely didn't know.

I'd also understand if you think that I was batshit crazy. The concept of meeting and marrying my current wife is way up there in the high country of bizarre. Especially since there are more conventional options. Like kicking her out and changing the locks - or burying her in the backyard.

And yet, I still loved Sally, she loved me, and our old union was irrevocably dead... killed by vile circumstances. So, what other choice did we have but to try to build a new relationship from scratch -- sans Herbert J Pullerman? Sal sat there thinking about what I'd said. I could see her working through the implications. Then she turned to me and said hesitantly, "What would the ground rules be?"

I said bluntly, "There are none. We shake hands and go our separate ways. Then we live our lives as if we'd never met. I am counting on falling in love with a totally new woman."

Sal flinched... then she realized that the woman I was talking about was her. She looked at me pleadingly and said, "Isn't there some other way. I'll do anything to keep us together?"

I hesitated. The extra-marital sex was indeed very close to date rape. So, maybe I ought to be more reasonable and forgiving. But there was still the practical matter of trust. As horrible as it might sound, I had lost all confidence in my wife. I even knew why.

Sal had made herself vulnerable because she was so driven. Her need to achieve was an innate part of her character. So, I didn't want to spend the rest of my life wondering if she would fall off the wagon again for the proper inducement. In that respect, then, my lack of faith would corrode the daily fabric of our life... unless there was a drastic change in Sally's underlying character.

It was clear to me that we needed to build a new basis for trust. And the only way we could do that was to level the old marriage to the ground, like an abandoned house, and rebuild it from scratch. But we would only be able to do that if we separated. So, in order to start over, we had to spend sufficient time and distance apart.

Sal said timidly, "Does this mean you want to be with other women?" That pissed me off royally. I growled, "Do you think that there is anything about our current relationship that is based on sex?"