Forever Gone, Forever You

"Unh huh," she said.

"Unh huh, my ass," I said. "I'm unloading this thing as soon as I can. I'll give her two days to get her ass back here. Then I'm taking this thing to social services and explaining the situation to them. They can find her a home or foster parents or something like that."

"Unh huh," said Brenda, as we pulled up in front of my house. "Do you need anything?" she asked.

"No," I spat. "We bought formula the day she was born and haven't opened it yet. Your sister is super mom. We have everything we need."

"Grant, you're a great guy," she said. "What Bonnie did was flat out wrong. I don't agree at all with what she did. But I do know that she's tearing herself up over losing you. I think in some ways, as much as she loves being a mom, she'd started to resent this baby. That's why she left. She has to get her head straight. It wasn't good for the baby to have her mom blaming her in part for wrecking your family. Please, don't you take it out on her also? She's only a baby. Can you just wait and settle your issues with Bonnie, when she gets back."

I looked at her and realized that she was right. I nodded my head.

"Grant," Brenda said grabbing my face. It was the first time I remember her reaching out to touch anyone. "What I said before about you being the only person she was quiet for...I meant it. She wasn't even this peaceful when Bonnie held her. Maybe she'd already sensed that her mommy wasn't feeling good about having her. You're the best man I know, Grant. Let my niece feel that. You don't have to accept her as being your child. But she is related to you. Marie is still yours isn't she?" I nodded my head.

"Of course she is," I spat.

"Well just accept Brandy as Marie and Tara's half-sister, if not as your daughter. Think of her as their cousin or something. Maybe she isn't yours, but she's part of your family." I nodded grudgingly.

"I loved her so much, Brenda," I said sadly."

"Grant, she STILL loves you. She hasn't given up on you at all. And she's not going off with anyone either. There is no one except for you," she said. She was getting ready to say something else but we were interrupted.

The girls came running out of the house excitedly. They were so busy cooing and looking at the baby that they didn't notice that their mother wasn't there.

I sensed challenging times ahead.

* * * * * *

I walked down the once familiar halls with a very somber expression on my face. The expression was not out of respect for the place I found myself in. My heart was breaking. I felt like I was being torn in two. I missed Grant so much that I wanted to die. That had been one of my options and it was still on the table. If this plan didn't work, I still might.

Once upon a time I'd expected to live out my life within these walls. I think I wanted to be a teacher then. But it was over ten years ago, so I may be wrong.

Bonnie, how good it is to see you again," said Reverend Mother Agnes. She was Sister Agnes when I was here, and she was old then. She's positively ancient now.

As I looked at her face I could still see some of the smiling face of the woman from back then, but she was far more serious now. She also had a strength that wasn't based on physicality. Her body may be failing her, but her emotional or spiritual strength must have at least doubled.

"It's good to see you again too, Mother Agnes," I said.

"Bonnie, you're coming here as a lay worker to help us. There's no need to stand on formality. You aren't a part of the order anymore, but we're still friends. You can just call me Agnes."

We spent a few more minutes going over what I'd be doing for the order for the next few months. My stay here was open ended. I'd signed on to help install a computer system in the convent. It could literally take years to drag them kicking and screaming out of the dark ages. I hoped that it wouldn't take that long for me to be able to go home. Every minute that I spent away from my family was torture, but it would be worth anything to keep us together.

The solutions that Grant had come up with for my betrayal were all unacceptable. After he found out what I'd done, I started thinking about solutions myself and none of them were any good. I'd even come up with the idea of giving Brandy up for adoption. Strangely that wasn't one of Grant's ideas and I knew why. He and I both strongly believed that a child needs their parents. Even one parent is better than none. So since he didn't want to be her father, he never envisioned the possibility that I'd give her up.

Grant was being silly though, because I love all of my daughters, but as much as I love Brandy, if I had to choose between her and my husband, she'd lose. I wouldn't abandon her, I'd make sure she was placed with a good family, perhaps even with a family that was related to us. But there was simply no way I could take my other girls' father away from them. And then there were my own selfish needs for Grant as well.

Alone in my room, I pulled out my iPad. There was no Wi-Fi network in the convent yet, so I had to use it over the 3G network. I lightly touched an app and my screen filled with a grid of square windows.

There were six squares in the grid. I tapped one and it filled my screen. I started crying silently as I looked at it. I turned up the volume as I watched Grant sitting in the rocking chair by our fireplace. He was holding Brandy and rocking her to sleep. It was no surprise to me that she was quiet for Grant. He has such a way with kids. I watched as Marie came in and sat down next to him. That girl followed her dad around like a puppy. There was no way I could have separated them. I really have the feeling that if it came down to a choice, my daughter at 14 would have chosen to stay with her dad in a divorce.

Grant handed the baby to her older sister, so he could get out of the rocking chair. She handed her back when he was standing up and followed him to our bedroom. Grant had moved her basinet into our room, the softy. I started crying when I saw it. He put her down to sleep and stayed there with Marie by his side until she drifted off. Then he went into the girls' room and read Tara a bedtime story. Marie was staring down at something in her hands the whole time. I couldn't see what it was.

I couldn't believe it; Grant had bought Marie a cell phone. He knew that I didn't want our kids to become phone junkies. She was only 14. I calmed myself down and smiled. I was sure he was just giving them a few things to distract them from feeling bad about me not being there.

Tara is still afraid of the dark. When Marie is in the room with her it's not a problem though. Grant had put a night light by her bed, what a wimp. Tara seemed to have a few new toys too. I hoped he'd get over his anger at me before the girls took over the house completely.

Over the next few months, I ordered and installed computers in the convent. I held classes and taught the nuns basic computer skills. I also taught them how to use the basic types of computer software. I had the convent connected to the internet and installed a small business network.

I threw myself into my work and at the end of each day, I returned to my room and engaged in my favorite pastime; watching my family.

As I'd known he would, Grant had cared for our daughters even better than I'd expected. Against everything he'd said; a bond had formed between Grant and our youngest daughter. Tears had rolled down my cheeks as he'd walked through the living room rocking the infant in his arms as she'd gone through the pain of teething. He'd given her ice chips as he had with Tara.

The thing that hurt me the most was when he'd begun to talk to the baby, as he walked with her each night. He told her all about her sisters when they were younger and how she would grow up to be smart and beautiful just like them. Then he'd begun talking about his relationship and courtship with me.

I couldn't tell if he was telling the baby those things because he really expected her to understand them or if he was only talking to work out his own demons.

He talked about exactly how much he'd loved me and how much I'd meant to him. I'd been everything to him. Hearing him say it and continuously use the past tense hurt me. Hearing about the way he truly felt about what I'd done hurt me even more. After that night I hadn't watched him for a few days and couldn't work because I was too depressed and hurt. I began then to see how badly what I had done hurt him. I began to wonder, and not for the first time, if what I'd done had been truly worth what I was going through now.

I also began to feel doubt about whether or not my plan would succeed. I was no longer sure that my husband would ever want me back. My sister routinely visited my family and seemed to be becoming closer to Grant. That was something that I hadn't planned on. In fact, none of this was going according to my plan. I'd expected this to take no longer than two or three months. It was nearing a year.

There had been a few things that I considered triumphs over the past 11 months. One had been when my father had recovered from his heart attack. My mother had offered to take Brandy, but Grant had refused. He'd told her that she had enough problems with Dad's health. He'd hold on until I returned. I was sure that his feelings for our daughter were growing.

Another had been getting him the DVDs. Denny had a habit of recording some of his trysts. I had taken the DVDs from him. I hadn't wanted anyone to ever find out what I'd done. Anyway one night I'd heard Grant telling Brenda about how he was sure that I had been cheating on him for weeks probably years and that I'd probably been back in slut mode. It hurt me that he thought I could do that to him.

Brenda was the only one who knew where I was. I called my sister and told her to leave the DVDs somewhere that Grant might find them. Brenda asked Grant if she could look through my clothes for something to wear while she helped him do the housework. As she and Grant looked through a drawer trying to find her a sweatshirt, Grant discovered the DVDs.

I knew that it was risky, allowing Grant to see another man having sex with me. If he took it the wrong way I might never get him back. But I also knew that if he didn't get over his idea that I'd been fucking Denny for pleasure, I might still not get him back.

I'd watched the video through my hidden cameras along with Grant, watching his reaction. Grant had watched as I lay there on the motel bed like a mannequin. Denny had pulled my legs apart and tried to mount me. He couldn't get his dick in me. I'd reached into my purse and brought some lube out. I handed it to him refusing to even apply it to his dick or my own vagina. I'd looked at the camera a few times hoping it would show that my expression was very sad on one DVD and disgusted on the second.

The conversation between us, both during sex and after had also been interesting. After the first time He'd quipped that my pussy wasn't very tight. I'd told him it was because his dick was too small. He'd told me that he was only trying to make conversation. I told him that eternity was the time between when he'd "cum," and when he'd go.

The snappy patter was even worse the second and final time. He told me I was a dead fuck. I told him that he was nothing to get excited over and he didn't know what he was doing. He told me things might be better if I sucked his dick to get him ready. I told him to suck it himself because I only did that for my husband. He told me he'd eat me if I let him suck my big breasts. I told him I'd rather just fuck and get it over with.

After it was over he told me that he normally fucked anything that moved but he didn't want to have sex with me ever again. Two times was enough. I should lose his phone number "Fine," I said. "My husband was way better in bed anyway."

I was sure that hearing the dialog between us might help Grant get over his hurt. As I watched his reaction I couldn't tell.

A few weeks later Brenda was back and asked Grant again how he felt about me. For the first time since this had begun he didn't answer in anger. He just said that he didn't know. I was happier than I'd been since I left home.

A few nights later I almost had a heart attack. Grant was holding Brandy as usual, while he and the girls watched TV. Brandy had been making the usual baby cooing sounds and she spit out her bottle and clearly said, "Dada."

Marie and Tara had smiled and laughed. Grant had looked angry at first and glared at the baby. She looked straight at him and said it again smiling, "Dada." Grant had just shaken his head and gave her the bottle back.

Something else had happened a few days after that. Grant had asked Brenda to watch the girls for him for an evening. She'd agreed but asked him where he was going. He just told her he was going out. That bothered me because if he started dating there was a good chance that I'd lose him. In our state I only had a few months more before Grant could divorce me for abandonment. So I couldn't take the chance that he'd start dating.

* * * * * *

I walked into a bar to get a drink. Alright, it wasn't an accident. I'd picked that particular place at that particular time for a reason. I'd done some checking and found out who this Denny bastard was. He was a local scum bag. He wasn't exactly a criminal, he was just a lazy, good for nothing scumbag who'd gotten lucky and married a rich older woman.

His wife controlled everything in the relationship, but it still left Denny the time and the money to fuck anything that wasn't nailed down. This bar was where he liked to hang out. I came here seeking answers.

He had a few friends that he liked to brag to about his exploits. He was already holding court when I sat down at the bar near his table. He was bragging about some dancer that he'd supposedly been with. I joined the conversation as if I was one of his old friends.

"Dude, you've moved up in the world," I said. "Denny, I've been out of town for about a year. I went to Cali. You should check out the chicks I brought back with me."

My use of his name really made him think that he knew me.

"California pussy huh?" he asked. "Maybe we should get together."

"I'm not sure you're up to it," I laughed. "Last time I was here you were sneaking off with some chunky chick."

"Oh, please," he said. "Those older married women are the real test. Fucking some young chick that's really never been plowed, is okay, but when you get a bigger, older, married chick chasing you. Then you know you're something."

I nodded my head as if I almost believed him, but needed some convincing. I leaned over and told him to meet me in the parking lot so we could talk. Of course, his friends wanted to come but I told them if he vouched for them after we met the girls, then maybe we'd bring them along next time. They even paid for my beer.

Denny and I headed out to the parking lot with big smiles on our faces. He was grinning because of his addiction to new pussy and what he thought was about to happen to him. I was smiling because of what was about to happen to him too.

Let me set the scene for you. Denny is a pretty big guy, bigger than me in fact. But his wife had pretty much tamed him. He was like those toothless old tigers in the zoo. His wife wore his balls on a chain around her neck. He looked scary to guys who were smaller than him and more domesticated. But just like those tigers from the zoo, when you took them out into the wild, a lot of them refused to come out of the cage.

We got into the parking lot and I sat on the hood of Denny's M3.

"Tell me what happened with the chunky chick from last year," I snapped.

Denny enjoyed telling his little tales to his friends, so he launched right into it.

"That bitch was really into me," he began. "I had the feeling that I knew her from somewhere. Like maybe we went to school together or something. It was like she already knew me and had always wanted herself a big piece of Denny."

He laughed at his own joke and then noticed that I wasn't laughing.

"She actually begged me to suck my dick. She acted like giving me a blowjob was something she'd always dreamed of," he said. "And she got so wet that I thought I was going to drown. She was humping that big fat ass against me so hard that I was afraid for a while. She didn't want me to stop, but I was exhausted. We must've fucked for at least a couple of hours straight. She even came back for more. So she must've liked what she got."

"So are you still fucking her?" I asked.

"Hell no," he snapped. "I just hit em and quit em. I try to be careful, especially with the married ones. That stupid bitch wanted to leave her husband for me. She actually begged me to marry her and have kids with her. That's one thing I'm proud of. I've probably fucked a couple of hundred women, but not one of them has ever been able to pin a fucking crumb snatcher on me. Why the fuck would I ever want one of those vile, nasty little critters."

He'd just sucked in a breath to say something else when I hit him. My first punch stunned him and he staggered backwards. "Why the Fu..." he began, as I hit him again. This time, my hand connected with something more solid and blood erupted from his face.

"You broke my nose," he screamed.

"If you don't tell me the truth, I'm gonna break your ass," I said.

"What do you want to know," he asked, spitting out blood. I smiled as he cowered away from me. He had no guts at all. But then it's pretty tough to have guts when someone else has your balls. At that moment my hatred for Denny turned to pity.

I also abandoned my original plan to tell his wife what he'd done. Having that information get out could only hurt my girls, Marie especially. We were all better off without any of this getting out.

From his statement about "Vile little critters," I realized that Denny didn't know that Marie or Brandy even existed. Let alone that he was their sperm donor. It was better off for all concerned if he never knew.

"The truth," I said. "Tell me everything. Don't leave anything out. You never know what might start me beating your ass again. I'm not one of your little friends so don't bother trying to make yourself look good. Just tell me the truth."

"Okay, the truth is that I was shocked when she came onto me. Half of the women around here don't fall for my shit any more. My wife is so old that she doesn't care about having sex very often and when she does it's like fucking a wrinkled up corpse. I use a lot of hookers. So when this woman came to me I didn't care if she was a little chunky. She was pretty and she had big tits. It was free pussy. Why the hell would I look a gift horse in the mouth?

But the sex was awful. She didn't suck my dick. Shit, she didn't even take her clothes off. She acted like she didn't even want me to touch her and she called me names after it was over." He looked at me to get my reaction.

"I was sure I'd never see her again," he said. "But a few weeks later she came after me again. I figured that maybe the first time was just bad timing or she was in a bad mood.

But the second time was even worse. She didn't even move. The whole time that I was fucking her, she had this look on her face like she hated me. I swear I knew her from somewhere. I just couldn't put it together. Then I noticed that when I came in her she closed her legs and tilted her pussy upwards like she was trying to make sure my sperm didn't come out of her. The look on her face was so hateful that I just told her it was going to be the last time we ever got together.

I had the feeling that she just hated men in general or me in particular. She seemed like the kind of woman who'd cut your throat while you were asleep."