Fantasy Becomes Reality

I had just finished a run and was sloshing down a glass of pink grapefruit juice. Even the six-mile run couldn't quell my anger. I'd put up with a lot over these last couple of months, no more.

This wasn't the first time I'd asked myself why Megan had married me. I wasn't a jock, fantastic looking, or had a twelve inch cock. I was just your average Joe with more drive to succeed than most. I can thank my dad, Carl, for that.

"Moore Construction had been around for thirty-five years and it would belong to my sister, Carol, and myself after my dad retired, which I hoped wouldn't happen for many years.

I'd known Megan since high school. She was friends with all the "In Crowd" people and dated all the guys most girls would drop their drawers for if they gave them the time of day. All shallow assholes in my humble opinion. I stayed away from everyone except Megan. She lived down the street and we not only knew each other, but her dad took us both to school every morning.

It took all my guts to ask Megan to the Senior Prom. At least she didn't leave me hanging.

"Steve, I'm going with David. He's my boyfriend."

"Just thought I'd ask." God I sounded pathetic. I didn't end up going. I wasn't going to be one of the dweebs that stood off to the side gawking at all the people having fun. I stayed home and watched a movie with my sister.

College was much better. I was out from under the "In Crowd" but in college there was also an upper crust group, mostly athletes, fraternity and sorority hot shots. I had no time for any of that bullshit. I was either studying or working for my father. My sister, Carol, who was two years older than me, was studying to be an architect. She felt we were losing business because we couldn't design as well as build.

"Steve, when we take over, I want to double our business within two years." If I thought I was driven, Carol was possessed.

I watched Megan go from guy to guy. I don't have a clue if she was giving it up but I'm pretty damn sure she wasn't a virgin any longer. Me? I'd had three girls and the last one told me I had potential but didn't stick around long enough to teach me what I was doing wrong. Fuck them all, I'd be successful and then they could kiss my ass.

Our senior year out of the blue, Megan asked if she could ride with me to school in the mornings.

"My car needs a new transmission and I won't have all the money for a couple of months."

Looking back, I should have told her to ask one of her jock friends for a lift but being the nice guy, I thought; why not. The next three months were wonderful. After two weeks I was waiting for her last class to end so I could drive her home. She was pleasant for a change. We talked, laughed and had more than one meal together. Then came the moment of truth.

"You want to go to dinner Saturday?" I asked expecting a quick no. I got a yes. That dinner was the first of many. When Carol heard I was dating Megan she was skeptical.

"Brother, she wants something, I just know it."

"I thought so to at first, but it's been three months and we're still going strong." We may have been going strong but my dad wasn't.

When we retired him for medical reasons, I thought he was going to go home, grab his gun and put Carol and I in the grave he was so pissed.

"Dad, I just need you to slow down before you kill yourself. Look, we'll make sure you see everything we're doing, but you need more sleep and a better diet than hamburgers and fries." He relented but not willingly.

I graduated on time but Megan ended up a semester behind me. I studied and she didn't, simple as that. I still took her to school on my way to work and picked her up later in the evening after she finished work at her intern-marketing job.

At seven months my sister and I talked. "I'm thinking about asking Megan to marry me." She said nothing.

"Carol, did you hear me?"

"Oh, I heard you alright, I'm just not sure how to respond without it sounding ugly. She's a fucking tramp! You want a girl like that for a wife? She probably bedded half the football and fraternity guys on campus. If you want pictures, I know a few guys that may have them."

"Carol, I came right out and asked her that very question. She admitted she's not a virgin and went a little crazy for a while but all that all changed when she started going out with me."

"So, now you're the one pounding her into the mattress every night?"

"Nope, we're kissed and done a few other things but haven't slept together yet."

"Why the fuck not, and don't tell me you're waiting till your wedding night." This was getting ugly.

"Nope. I'm just not at that point yet even though Megan has asked for it on more than one occasion. What I'm trying to see if she can handle going without. I don't want to marry a sex crazed bitch who starts fucking guys as soon as I leave for work."

"Well, at least take her for a spin around the block before you ask her. If she's so loose you can drive our delivery truck in there, don't ask her." I told her I would but needed a bit of down home advice.

"Dad, I've got something to talk to you about," was how I started Sunday's discussion. "I'm thinking about asking Megan to marry me."

"The good looking broad with the great body?"

"Yes, I guess you could say that."

"Why don't you just live with her? That's what your mother would have said." Mom had died two years earlier of cancer.

"I want to get married and have kids. I'm not about to have any bastards running around."

"You do know you need a prenup agreement don't you? I haven't worked my ass off only to have you give it away to some fucking bimbo."

"That's why I'm here. How the hell do I do it without her telling me to take a hike?" "Very carefully. I have a suggestion. Why don't you invite her over for dinner next Sunday? I'll invite your sister and she can ever bring that asshole of a boyfriend with her if she wants to. Then, I'll talk to Megan and tell her the facts of life. That way she'll be mad at me and not you."

I didn't think it was such a hot idea but what did I have to lose. Megan, that's what. Dinner was great and everything was going fabulously when dad told Megan he wanted to show her something. She looked t me then said, "sure, why not." They were gone for about twenty minutes.

"Who's up for dessert?" my dad asked, coming out of the kitchen with a Dutch Apple pie. Megan was holding the dishes and ice cream. We called it an evening after dessert.

"It was nice meeting you Megan," my dad said, giving her a hug and giving me a smile. Megan gave my sister a hug and then we were off to her place

"Nice family," is all she said about the evening. I kissed her in my car outside her parent's house.

"I'll call you tomorrow. Maybe we'll do lunch."

"Can't, I have a test forth period tomorrow and will be studying."

"How about tomorrow night?" She smiled.

"I'd like that."

With one more kiss at her doorstep I was in my car heading back to my dad's place. "Okay, what did she say?" "About what," Dad said with a big shit-eating grin.

"You know about what."

"Oh that. Megan said she had no problem with it. Said she loved you not your money and that if something happened between the two of you, she knew you wouldn't screw her over."

"She said that?"

"Yup. I did tell her that she was out of your league and that if you screwed it up I just might marry her myself. She laughed at that and said you were the keeper. I'll have Greg write up the prenup and after you pop the question we'll have her sign it. Have you picked out a ring yet?"

"Haven't had the time, and wanted to get this shit out of the way before I bought one."

"Well, I've still got your grandmothers in the lockbox at the bank. It's not huge but it is old and the stone is perfect."

"How about moms?"

"No one get's that ring until I'm dead and gone. It's all I have left of your mother."

"Gran's will be perfect. When can I get it?"

"Meet me at the bank tomorrow and I'll get it. Also since we'll be there, there is one more thing we'll be doing. I've already talked to your sister about it and she agrees with me."

"Agrees with you about what?"

"You'll find out tomorrow." And I did.

With the ring in my pocket, we went upstairs and into one of the offices.

"Paperwork done?" my dad asked.

"All done Mr. Moore. All we need is yours and your son's signature," sliding the paperwork across the table.

"What's this for?" I asked.

"The deed to my house. Carol doesn't want it and if you plan on getting married, you'll need a place to live."

"Where will you live?"

"I've got the beach house."

I almost said trade ya... but I didn't have a death wish. The beach house had been he and my mothers get a way place. We signed and it was official. I owned a house.

"This way you'll never have to worry about a place to live and since you'll have owned it before you got married, it'll always be just yours." This had been one hell of a day.

Tuesday at dinner I couldn't take my eyes off Megan. To me she was perfect and I hoped after tonight she'd be all mine. She hit her plate with her knife to bring me back to reality.

"Steve, you alright? You haven't heard a word I've said all night."

"I'm sorry, I'm just wracking my brain to come up with just the right words to ask you to marry me that's all." I stopped talking. Did I actually say that out loud? I know I was thinking it but ..."

"Yes, I'll marry you!" she said before I could figure out what happened.

Flustered, I walked over and kneeled by her chair and pulled out the ring. All right, gran had tiny fingers and it only fit on her little pinky finger.

"We can get it sized tomorrow." She hugged me, and then everyone around us applauded. The waiter brought out the champagne I'd ordered and we spent the next hour talking about us.

"You mean we'll have a house that's paid for to start our lives together?"

"It's mine and since you'll be my wife, I think I'll let you live there with me."

"Oh kind sir how can I ever repay your generosity?" she said with a sly smile.

"Don't worry me lady, I know I'll come up with something. Before we finally got married, we christened every room of the house. Our house now.

*****

Jump ahead nine years. My life was pretty fucking great. Our son Timmy is seven and Danny is five. My sister and I had doubled in size twice and things couldn't be better. Well, that's not entirely true.

Megan worked for a large marketing firm and did their internet research, mostly from home. This worked out great for us. She puts our boys on the bus in the morning and has their afternoon snack ready for them when they get off the bus. I'd come home most nights to a dinner on the table and dessert upstairs in our bed. She may have been a little loose before she met me, but I reaped the rewards of her experience three to four times a week. But there was one issue that continually plagued her.

Megan's problem is that she never lost the baby weight when she had Danny. Truthfully, she's probably gained fifteen pounds more and was in denial. She has gone from one hundred and ten pounds pre-baby weight to I guess one sixty-five as of last Monday when I glanced down at the scale while I bushed my teeth. Don't get me wrong, I loved my wife to death, and didn't really care if she gained a few pounds, but she seems to be gaining a pound or two a month. My bride had become a normal person.

Things care to a head when we were invited to my sister Carol's for a business party. It wasn't formal but it wasn't shorts and tee shirts either. A lot of our clients would be there also. You see we had two sets of friends. My friends we mostly family and people I work with, and Megan's were the friends she used to hang with in high school and college. In other words, the "In Crowd." I smiled every time we got with them. Most went nowhere in their lives, while the dweeb they looked down on was a successful businessman. I loved it.

Getting back to the party.

"Hon, what do you think of this outfit?" she asked. I looked at it and lied.

"Looks fine." It didn't. It was about a full size too small.

"You think it's too tight?"

"Does it feel too tight?" was my reply now looking away.

She looked in the mirror again. "Yes it does and it's the biggest thing I've got in my closet. I've got to stop buying clothes that are 100% cotton, they keep shrinking."

I'm no fool, I held my tongue and looked at my watch. "Better find something, we've got to leave in twenty-five minutes."

Outfit after outfit were thrown onto the bed. Finally she put on something she didn't have to tuck in. She looked good, but Megan always looked good in my eyes. How I'd ever landed this beauty, I'll never know.

Dinner was a disaster. Megan drank way too much and got a little loose with her tongue. More than once I had to pull her away from one or another couple when she said things that were totally inappropriate.

"Hon, I think you've had enough," I said, trying to grab her glass of wine. "Carol's got a pot of coffee brewing. Why don't I get you a cup." She pulled her wine glass back and spilled most of it on herself and Carol's gray rug. Then it happened. She turned, stumbled, and for whatever reason, her slacks ripped. I saw the look of horror as she reached for her waist. I'm afraid everyone was also watching.

"Megan, why don't we go into my bedroom and fix that waist band shall we?" Carol said, not giving her a chance to refuse. Carol grabbed her by the arm and led her away.

"Looks like we've had a Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunction," I said loudly. Everyone laughed and went back to what they were doing. I went to Carol's bedroom.

"Steve, go away," is what I heard when I knocked.

"Megan, let me in."

"Steve, go away and we'll be out shortly," was her quick reply. "We're having a girl to girl conversation. Now leave." I went back to the party.

Twenty minutes later, an embarrassed Megan came out wearing a wide belt. We stayed another half hour and then said our goodbyes.

Everyone said what a lovely party it had been, and it was, up until the accident.

It was a quite ride home. All Megan did was look out the side window. When we got home I paid the sitter and drove her home. When I got back, Megan was already in bed and didn't look happy.

"How are you feeling?" I asked. She said nothing She just looked at me. Can I get you something?" Still nothing. I went over to the bed. "Honey, it wasn't all that bad. In fact everyone laughed at it when I said it was just a wardrobe malfunction." She didn't look amused. "Why don't you and I go shopping tomorrow? You can buy a few new outfits and ..." she stopped me cold.

"You think I'm fat don't you?"

"Megan, so what if you've gained a few pound over the last couple of years, no big deal. Hell, if you want to go on a diet, I'll go on one with you." I was trying to be both positive and supportive.

"Steve, I just want to close my eyes and forget this night ever happened," rolling over onto her side. I tried to cuddle with her but was told to stay on my side of the bed.

The next two weeks were hell. She went shopping on Sunday and bought four pair of pants and two large tops. I thought it had blown over until I saw dinner. I had hoped it was just an appetizer. It wasn't.

I had gained a few pounds myself and even though I ran most days, they weren't going away. I hadn't cared up until last weekend, now it became an issue. Megan came home on Thursday and said she had joined a gym.

"Great, I'll join with you!" I said all excited.

"Steve, I want to do this on my own but I thank you for your support. I just wish you'd said something about my weight before last weekend."

What was I going to say? Hon, your ass is starting to get as wide as your mothers. Like that would have gone over big. So I had kept my mouth shut. Her weight wasn't an issue with me. So what if she wasn't the skinny girl I'd married. She was now a normal everyday wife with a muffin top. A large muffin top.

My wife was on a mission and God help anyone who said anything about her weight. Every day she weighed herself and wrote it down in a journal. I went to look once and almost lost an arm.

Then I made a cardinal mistake. It had been two weeks since we'd made love and I was in the mood Tuesday night. We were both in bed and I was well into my subtle sexual foreplay when she looked at me.

"How can you want to make love to a pig like me?'

I told her I didn't care if she'd gained a few pounds, she was my wife and I loved her. Then I opened up wide and stuck my foot in my mouth. "And you know how much I like bacon."

I knew as soon as the words left my mouth I was in trouble and I immediately started back peddling saying it was just a bad joke. The joke was now on me.

I felt the pillow slam into the side of my head and by the time I recovered, Megan was heading for the spare bedroom. I followed behind apologizing but when she slammed the door in my face and locked it I knew I was in deep shit. All my pleas went unanswered. I finally went back to our bedroom and had a fitful nights sleep.

The following morning she still wouldn't open the door. I made the boys breakfast hoping that she would make an appearance. She never came down stairs.

"I'm leaving for work and the boys are eating breakfast. Love you," I said with my forehead on the locked door. She'd get over it, I thought. But it only got worse.

I was the perfect husband for the next month. I cooked dinner when she'd let me and did everything without her even asking. We ate together but I received few words and no affection. None. Not even a kiss goodbye or hello.

The only thing that didn't change was her outfit. Sweat pants and a sweatshirt were the uniform of the day. Every day. And if that wasn't bad enough, she'd had moved all her stuff into the spare bedroom.

"Talk to me Megan. I love you!" I would say most nights but she never relented.

By the beginning of the fourth week my apologies stopped and I had become annoyed with her attitude. "Babes, we need to talk. I need my wife back with me."

"Why would you want a fat pig like me sharing your bed? That's right, you like bacon. I forgot that. Well, right now I don't feel very sexy."

"Well at least come back to our bed. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"Like that'll ever happen. You've been grabbing at me since the first night we went out on a date."

"That's bullshit and you know it. If anyone was the aggressor, it was you."

"So now you're saying I was a wanton slut? Is that how you saw me?"

"I never said that. You did. Now can we just forget about all this shit and go back to where we were before?"

"Go back to fat Megan or the hot body Megan?"

"Right now I don't give a shit which."

"See, that's your problem you see me through rose colored glasses not as I am now." That made no sense, but little did anymore.

By week six I'd had enough. I'd lost my patience and was now getting angry. All we talked about were bullshit items and she still refused to move back into our bedroom. I could see she'd lost weight in her face but the sweats hid everything else.

A week later, after a heated exchange I grabbed her by the arm. Bad move on my part. The slap came out of left field and about took my head off.

"Don't you dare ever touch me like that again!" I could see the fire in her eyes but it didn't compare to what I was feeling. I was fed up with all her shit.

After that night I no longer had dinner with my family. I would come home from work, play with my sons and when Megan put out dinner I would leave and not come back until I was ready to go to bed. Truthfully I got take out and went to my office to eat and prepare for what was coming next.

That weekend, I made my final plea. "Megan you've got to talk to me, this has gone on too long. I need my wife and friend back."