Forever Gone, Forever You

He wiped the blood from his busted nose and looked at me.

"She really looked like she was ashamed of herself or she wanted to cry. Both times, as soon as we were done, I'm telling you she had tears in her eyes. If I didn't know any better I'd have thought that she was fucking me to punish herself for something.

I'm sure she was married though, because she kept bringing him up. That was pretty fucking weird too. Most of the married women I fuck never talk about their husbands. It's almost as if talking about them makes them feel even guiltier about having sex with me. Maybe in their minds, if they don't talk about them, their husbands don't exist for a short time and they don't have to feel guilty. But this bitch...Sorry," He'd noticed the way my expression changed when he called her that.

"Anyway, this lady kept bringing him up. She kept saying things like, "My husband's dick is bigger than yours," or "My husband fucks way better than you do." It was just creepy. I kept wondering if she was going to bring him next time and make me watch him fuck her so I'd know how to do it the right way." He shook his head.

"Then there was the fact that she wouldn't touch me at all, even when we were done. A lot of women want you to hold them or just talk to them afterwards. You know so they don't feel cheap and used. But this b...Lady didn't want either. She just wanted me to get the fuck out of dodge. She even made some kind of joke that I didn't understand about, "Cumming and going." He looked to see if I'd laugh. I'd already heard it on the DVD so there was no need for him to explain it.

"It made me think," he said. "I mean, if she was so into her old man, why wasn't she fucking him. Then it hit me. She'd probably cheated on him and he found out and left her.

She couldn't fuck him so she went out looking for guys like me. She needed someone to fuck her, but she hated us at the same time because her going out and screwing around on him is what caused her to lose Mr. Wonderful in the first place. Life is strange, and people are really complex." He looked at me as if he'd just said something that was extremely profound.

"Get the fuck out of my sight, Denny," I said.

"But what about the California b...?" he caught himself. "Well, who are you?" he asked.

"Mr. Wonderful," I said as I walked away. I had a lot to think about. I'd parked a couple of blocks away just in case there were problems. Denny was far more of a wimp than I'd ever expected. He didn't even try to hit me once. He never fought back. He just started spilling his guts.

I felt bad about the whole thing. In fact, I felt like shit. I probably could have just asked him away from his friends and gotten him to tell me what I wanted to know. Plan B would have been to show him the videos and make him come clean about it, but when he started talking about my girls like they were what did he call them...vile, nasty critters, he deserved an ass whipping even though he didn't know they existed.

Denny was an asshole plain and simple. But that was no reason for me to lose control of myself and resort to violence. What if I'd gotten caught? What would my girls do if I was in jail? Besides me, who loved them? Their aunt Brenda was just not the motherly type. Their Grandmother and Grandfather loved them but were simply too old to take care of them. There was only me. Of course, Bonnie loved them too, but where was she?

The talk with Denny had actually made me see things in a different light. This was so fucking complicated. Everything in life isn't just black or white. There are a lot of shades of gray. Those stories I read on the internet seemed like cartoons now. All of my favorite writers always knew the way to handle a cheating wife. Cpete wouldn't have put up with this shit. FD45 wouldn't either. They'd have come up with some clever way of dealing with the bitch that had dared to cheat on them. StangStar06 would have conjured up some hot new woman and drove off with her in one of his Mustangs towards a happy ever after. The only women in my life right now were my daughters and Bonnie's daughter.

Even the writers who wrote all of those stories that were so real that you'd swear you were looking into someone's house, paled before the problem I had. Rehnquist, with his well thought out stories that made you feel like he'd lived them, couldn't help me with this one. Though his characters tended to be thoughtful as opposed to violent and realistic as opposed to cartoonish, I think this one was a bit beyond Rehnquist's character's woes too. It was more like that "When we were married," story where it just went on and on. And though we loved every word of it, in the end we never got to see what happened. Only this was my fucking life and I needed to know how this ended.

The thrumming of my Mustang's engine only seemed to make me want to re-examine my situation more. There were a lot of issues at stake here. Some of them were silly. Did Bonnie actually cheat on me? Hell yes, she did. The more I thought about it, the more I realized that I was right about everything that I said. She did cheat.

Did her reasons make sense? Fuck no, they didn't. We were perfectly fine. We might've had a baby on our own eventually, but she had to go and mess with the mix.

On the other hand neither of us was getting any younger, especially her. If we'd waited for eventually there was a good possibility that it may never have come. As much as I didn't want to admit it, maybe the way she went about it was totally wrong, but there was a reason for what she did. I'd have liked it a lot fucking better if we'd talked about it and then gone with artificial insemination or one of those medical things instead of her going out and letting some asshole fuck her though.

The rest of the issues were a lot murkier. Did I think that Bonnie loved me? I was still very sure that she did. Even that asshole Denny had seemed to be convinced that she loved me.

Do I still love Bonnie? As much as I want to jump up and say, "Hell no, I hate that cheating cunt." I can't. She's been gone for nearly a year. Brandy is beginning to talk and trying to walk now. I haven't been out on one fucking date and have no plans to. But every day and every night I wonder where she is. I'm sure she'd found someone else and moved on from me and my girls. But I found myself sometimes wishing that there had been a way to work all of this out. More than anything, I tell myself that I wish none of this had happened. But if I had to be honest with myself, I'm not sure that's true anymore.

If none of this had happened, I wouldn't have Brandy. And there's no use pretending that I don't love that little girl. I love her at least as much as I do the other two. She might not be the child of my loins, but she's definitely the child of my heart. I'm at least as much, if not more her father than that asshole Denny. He wasn't the one she looked at, locked her eyes on and called "Dada." That was me and if I have my way, it always will be.

* * * * * *

My time in the convent had taught me a lot of things that I never expected to learn. Before I'd been here for a week, I'd been approached about buying beer, pills and other things for some of the novices. Apparently the modern age had come to nuns as well. During my time here, women who needed things like that would never have even tried to enter the service of the lord.

Apparently the church's rules on things like abstinence and chastity have gone by the wayside as well. A few months ago, I'd gone into the storage room on my floor and discovered two of the men who were supposed to be rebuilding the wall on the north side of the complex. My shock over seeing them in the house, when no men were ever supposed to be here, was secondary to my shock at what they were doing.

One of them was fucking one of the novices while she sucked the other off like there was no tomorrow. I quickly closed the door and went about my business.

A few days later, I ran into one of the workmen and he told me that in return for my silence, he might be willing to, "Throw me a quick fuck from time to time." He was sure that with my having been married, I had to miss it sometimes. I slapped the shit out of him. I did actually miss it. And I missed it not sometimes but every fucking day. But I didn't miss random sex with some guy I barely knew. I missed having my husband make love to me and sometimes just fuck the shit out of me. Despite the circumstances that brought me back here, I was still a one man woman through and through. I missed Grant with every fiber of my being, so there was no way I'd sully the memory of what we had, just to screw some asshole in a closet.

I cried myself to sleep again that night. I couldn't even bear to watch my family. More and more I was beginning to realize that Grant was probably never going to get over his hatred for what I'd done. It was enough for me that he, at least on the surface, had accepted my daughter. Maybe he didn't claim her, but it was obvious even to me, who only watched them on video, that he loved her.

I awoke the next morning to the sound of my cell phone ringing. It rang four times and then stopped before the voicemail would pick it up. Then it rang four times again. Someone wanted to talk to me badly.

I picked the phone up and answered sleepily.

"Hello," I croaked.

"Bonnie, get your ass home, now," said my sister Brenda.

"Why?" I asked.

"Grant went out last night," she said.

"It won't work," I said. "If he's dating now, it's even more reason to stay away. He's probably getting over me and trying to move on."

"No dummy," she snapped. "Can I tell you what I think happened before you jump to some stupid fucking conclusion? You already made one dumb assed decision that nearly fucked up your life. Are you ready to listen this time?"

I really didn't like the way she was talking to me, but Brenda has never been a people person. Maybe that's why she was a model. She had no human feelings and really was just a mannequin to hang clothes on. "Go ahead," I said.

"For the first time since you left, Grant wanted to go out last night. We've tried to get him to go out a lot of times but he never would. At first I was a bit jealous," she said. "I always figured that if the two of you never got back together, maybe I'd give Grant a shot. He really is a good guy."

I couldn't believe my own sister would say that. I got a bit pissed but I tried not to let it show.

"Anyway, he went out," she continued. "And his big date only lasted for about forty five minutes."

"Well, maybe being a first date, they just weren't compatible," I said. "But if he's started dating, sooner or later he'll find someone. There aren't very many women stupid enough to let him get away."

"Can I tell the fucking story, or what?" asked Brenda.

"Sorry," I said.

"When he came home, I noticed that his hands were busted up. Not badly, but it looked like he'd been in a fight," she said. My sudden intake of air caused her to laugh.

"You DO still love him," she said, laughing.

"Of course I do," I snapped. "This whole thing was never about whether or not I love him. I'll love Grant until...Well, until there's nothing left of anything anywhere, and probably even after that. Get on with the story."

"So, I asked him about it and he said that he fell. He really isn't a good liar is he? Who puts their knuckles down to catch themselves if they fall? But he didn't want to talk about it so I didn't push. This morning a friend of mine told me that your old friend Denny got his ass beat really badly. His lip was swollen up so it looked like a balloon and his nose was broken. I went over to the house again early this morning so the girls could make me breakfast. I'm their only female role model since their mother ran out on them."

"What choice did I have Brenda?" I said. I was beginning to cry myself.

"Anyway, we sat down at the table. Marie said Grace as she always does, and Grant threw in your name at the end. Marie kind of sneered, Tara just thought about it. After breakfast I asked Grant why he'd done it and he told me that he'd been thinking about you a lot lately. So I asked him if that was why he'd started dating. He just smiled and told me that he didn't think he would ever really look for anyone to replace you. He just wasn't interested."

"I asked him if he still loved you. For the first time since you've been gone he wasn't angry. He just said that he loved you with all of his heart and the thing he regrets most about all of this is that he never talked to you about all of this before he drove you away. But he hopes that you're happy wherever you are and whoever you're with."

"But he didn't drive me away," I snapped. "And I'm not WITH anyone except him."

"So shouldn't you drag your ass home and tell him that?" she asked. I never answered her. I grabbed my purse and keys and ran out to my car clutching my phone. I didn't take the time to pack or to change clothes, I just ran out to the car in my long flannel night gown. Surprisingly enough none of the men I saw at gas stations along the way even noticed that anything was wrong or said a word. It was always the women and girls who pointed at me and laughed.

My phone rang again. I checked the screen and saw that it was Brenda again. I answered it.

"Well, did you think about what I asked you?" she snapped.

"Let's just say that I'm giving it serious consideration," I laughed.

"Good," she said. "You may be crazy at times but you're still a great sister and I think the two of you need each other."

"And you may be an emotionless mannequin with absolutely no butt, but you're the best sister ever," I said. Then I hung up and concentrated on driving.

* * * * * *

We were late getting home that evening. After all of the drama we'd had on the drive to the girls' schools and daycare this morning, I decided that we needed a treat. The drama wasn't anything the girls did. It was something that I'd caused when I mentioned their mom. So we stopped at McDonald's for dinner. I figured we'd sit in front of the TV together and munch and bond.

That idea seemed doomed, because as soon as Marie got into the car and hugged me, she started in again. "Why did you have to mention her, Daddy? She threw us away. We don't need her," she said.

"Marie, Honey, there's a difference between the words love and need," I said. "I guess I understand why you're confused. You're going through the same thing I did. At first I was very hurt by what she did. I don't know why she did it, but she did. After I found out about it, maybe I didn't handle it as well as I could have. I think your mother just felt that she was pushed into a corner with no way to go. So she just went away to think about it."

Marie didn't actually know all of the circumstances, she and the other girls were too young for that. All she knew was that her mom had disappeared.

"No Daddy," snapped Marie. "What she did was she bailed. All of that stuff she gave me about living up to your responsibilities, but when it was her turn, she ran away. She left you and me and Tara and even Brandy. She's no mother."

"You're right about that," said Tara who was just getting into the car. We continued to talk about it all the way to the day care center where we picked up Brandy. Then we talked about it all the way to McDonalds. Then other issues as usual took precedence. Such as Tara, who tried to do everything she could to emulate her older sister. Tara had decided that since Marie spent so much time on her phone that she, at 10 years old needed one too.

That was the main topic of discussion when we walked into our house.

"Tara, you're only 10," said Marie. "Daddy is not going to buy you an iPhone. You're only a little kid."

"Am not," said Tara. "Look at the trend. When Dad was young nobody had a cell phone until they hit their twenties and got a job. You got a phone when you were 14. I need a phone now and I'm 10. Brandy will get a phone when she's five and starts school. That way she can call Dad if her apple sauce is too cold or somebody says something mean to her."

Tara was so busy making her point that she never noticed until long after the rest of us did. Marie was holding the bags of food. She promptly dropped them and her mouth dropped open. Tara turned to see what had caused her sister and hero to drop the food.

I was holding on to Brandy's tiny hand as she slowly took a few halting steps. Now that she had the general gist of that walking thing, she wanted to walk all the time unless she was tired or afraid.

When she saw Bonnie come out of the bedroom Brandy reached for me immediately. Marie stood there with her mouth open and anger forming on her face.

"Hi, Mom, don't I deserve an iPhone?" asked Tara not missing a beat.

"What does your Dad say?" asked Bonnie, walking past her. She made a beeline for Brandy. "Can I hold her?" she asked reaching for her.

Brandy was having none of it. She yelled, "Dada" and started crying, even as Bonnie's hands came near her.

Bonnie stepped back away from Brandy, who calmed down as I picked her up.

"Why are you here? Did you forget something?" asked Marie.

I watched her face as she answered. "I missed you girls and I missed your dad," she said slowly and calmly. "And someone told me that maybe your dad wasn't quite as angry with me as he was."

"You should have stayed gone, forever," said Marie stomping away.

"So do I get my iPhone?" asked Tara.

I picked up the food and took the bags to the girls' room. Marie found them a movie to watch while they ate and I promised her that we'd talk later.

I went back down to the living with Brandy as usual in my arms. She was getting sleepy and this was near the time that I'd normally walk around the living room carrying her and talking to her as she drifted off to sleep.

"Wow, you made yourself at home," I said to Bonnie. Her eyes lit up and she smiled at me.

"Actually, this is what I had on when I spoke to my sister on the phone this morning. I rushed right out and came here. I didn't bother taking time to change or to pack. When she said that maybe you and I could talk, that's all it took," said Bonnie.

"Is there someone you need to call or something," I asked. That got another smile out of her. She leaned back on the couch and just watched as I began walking around the living room rocking Brandy in my arms.

"You're not very subtle," she said. "There's no one that I need to call that's more important than talking to you. Well, I guess I could call the mother superior of the convent that I was working at but I'm sure she'll understand. She told me several times over the past 11 months, two weeks and 3 days that I needed to come home and face my problems instead of running away from them. Grant there aren't any other men in my life, other than you. There never have been and there never will be."

She continued to simply stare at me.

"Why, are you staring at me like that?" I asked.

"Because I've missed you so much dummy," she said. "And because I've watched you do this every night for the past 11 months. You are the best father I could imagine."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "You've been imagining seeing me taking care of Denny's baby." I was getting pissed all over again.

"Grant, she isn't Denny's baby," she said. "She's YOUR baby. She's even afraid of me right now. It'll take her some time to get used to me. She's bonded to you. You're her father. You're her Dada. I was there when she first called you that."

"No you weren't," I said.

"Yes, I was," she said. She went over to the bookshelf and took one of the bookends from the middle shelf. "Camera," she said. "I have a few of them all over the house. I haven't actually been here with the people I love. But I haven't been very far away either."