If you truly love me Ch. 01: David

"She just wants to suddenly fuck this Sophie chick."

I winced at Ben's bluntness.

"David, someone going through a midlife crisis, or whatever they call it for a woman, doesn't have to exhibit all the signs we associate with the condition. Holly's not getting any younger, and, I know for a fact, she loathes the idea of getting older and becoming less desirable. Every woman does, whether they admit it or not. Christ, I've watched as she's had the pair of you on one health kick after another for the last five odd years because she's scared of aging and not being as attractive."

"She jokes about it, sure, but—"

"Many a true word is spoken in jest, David."

I harumphed in frustration. "So explain to me then, if Holly is having some sort of crisis how exactly would being with a girl be an answer to that?"

"To my way of thinking, another woman would be more understanding and accepting of the changes time makes to a woman's body."

"Then why isn't every older woman running off with another woman?"

Ben inhaled deeply. "That came out all wrong. I got sidetracked—It wasn't what I was trying to get at." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "Let's look at this from a different angle. Think of Holly's crisis as her being attacked by a swarm off mosquitos. They feast and she's left with a bunch of bites that drive her just about crazy with the need to scratch them. Giving in and scratching one leads to her changing her hairstyle. Scratch a second bite and she's suddenly dressing half her age. Scratch a third and she's leaving you and shacking up with this Sophie bird who's probably only five years older than your daughter. But the thing is, David, Holly didn't have to scratch those bites. She could have resisted. It mightn't have been easy, but it could have been done, and, with time, the bites would have healed and the need to scratch them would have faded."

"I think Holly would say its not as straightforward as that and a bit more intense than a mozzie bite."

"Perhaps, but it can still be resisted. With enough motivation an addict can resist their drug of choice or an alcoholic a drink, so why can't Holly resist an urge to have sex with a woman?"

"Holly's not an addict or a drunk."

"David," Ben snapped, clearly frustrated. "No, she's not. I was speaking in metaphors but the result is the same. You don't have to enable Holly in her desires. Would you be contemplating something like this if she said she had an overwhelming urge to fuck some twenty-five year old gym-rat-stud who was her personal trainer? If she's told you the truth about her being bi rather than lesbian, and she wants to resist the urges she's having badly enough, she can. You wouldn't be asking her to deny her sexuality, you would be asking for monogamy. Fidelity. Something, I might add, she promised you when she married you."

"You don't understand—"

"I think its you who can't see the forest for the trees. Christ, you sound like Holly's PR person. She's clearly had her voice in your ear, David. You know I adore my sister, but I also know she's been indulged her whole life. She was the only girl. She had all of us—Mum, Dad, Ronnie, Warren, Aunt Freja, hell, even Uncle Bill, wrapped around her finger. We all went along with what she wanted. She made it easy. She never rubbed our faces in it, was always gracious in victory. A real sweetheart about getting her own way, but, at the end of the day, we usually ended playing the games she wanted, watching the movies she wanted. You've been the same. You've given her whatever she asked for, but, mate, it's time to say no. It's time to step back and look at what she's asking objectively."

"So, you think I'm making a mistake?"

"Yes, I do, and I'm the one who changes girlfriends like you have hot dinners. If I think its wrong, surely that must give you pause for thought. I want you to think about what I've said. She might be my sister, but what she's asking for is wrong and if you give it to her you'll live to regret it. Fucking this young editor she's hired won't bring her closer to you. It won't make your marriage stronger or any of that sort of bullshit. It will, however, bring her closer to the editor. It will be like opening Pandora's Box; once opened you'll have no control over what you unleash, nor what you invite into your life. There'll be no going back. What if she loves having sex with this Sophie bird? What will she ask for next? To be allowed a girlfriend on the side? Sharing? An open marriage? Will you be able to live with any of those options? Even if she doesn't like it, will you be able to put what she's done out of your head?"

*****

DRIVING HOME, I thought long and hard about Ben's words. He was right and I realised I'd allowed Holly to manipulate me with tears and soft words, with sex and reassurances. She'd used my concern for her, my desire for her happiness and wellbeing against me. Another week of pleas and I might well have given her what she wanted. Pulling into the driveway, I steeled myself for what I surmised would be an unpleasant evening.

I wasn't wrong.

Dinner was a quiet affair, both of us, by silent agreement, deciding to wait until we were seated in the lounge to talk.

"Holly," I began, looking her steadily in the eye, determined to show her my resolve. "I've thought about what you asked and I have come to a decision." She looked at me expectantly. "My decision is no. No, I can't stand by and condone you having sex with someone else outside of our marriage."

"But, David, if you truly love me—"

"Please don't stoop to that, Holly. That's blatant emotional blackmail."

"But, it's true. If you did, if you did truly love me, you'd understand how important this is to me and you'd give me permission."

"That argument works in reverse too, Holly. I could say if you truly love me, you'd resist your, ah, fever, and not fuck one of your employees. You'd see how important it is to me for you to stay true to the promises you made to me nearly a quarter of a century ago."

"Please, David. I'm sure if you could just see your way clear to let me explore this thing with Sophie I could work it out of my system and then we can put the whole thing behind us..."

"But it would never be behind us. That's the point. It would always be between us. It's already come between us. Already, we'll never be the same. And tell me, how long were you envisaging exploring because the last time we spoke it was a one-off thing? Exploring sounds a little longer than once."

"Well, I think I may have been a bit rash when I thought I could get it out of my system with only one encounter with Sophie. She suggested—"

"She suggested?"

Holly had the decency to hang her head.

"So what exactly did your young friend suggest, Holly?"

I was angry and I knew Holly heard it in my voice.

"She said I should give it at least a month and three to six would be better."

"I see. So, long enough to worm her way into your heart and drive a permanent wedge between us. How helpful of her." I couldn't keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

"It's not like that, David. She's not like that. She doesn't want to come between us. And she couldn't. I love you. I have since the moment we met and nothing that happens between Sophie and I will change that."

"Wrong tense, dear."

"Pardon?"

"Wrong tense. 'Nothing that happens between Sophie and I' suggests something will happen whereas with my refusal to agree, nothing will be happening. Right? Or is there something else I need to know?"

Her hesitation spoke volumes.

"Have you already had sex with her?"

Holly paused. "No, I swear I haven't."

"Then why your hesitation in answering?"

"I-we, um, well, we might have kissed..."

"Might, Holly? Either you have or you haven't kissed. There's no grey area."

"Okay. We kissed! Are you happy now?" Holly snapped.

"No, I'm not happy. And so much for your promise not to do anything I wasn't agreeable to. How many more lies and broken promises can I expect, Holly?"

"It was only a damn kiss." Holly's tone was belligerent. You'd have thought she was a teenager and I her difficult father.

"Would you be saying that if it was me confessing to kissing Laura Hartley?"

Laura had been my secretary for a short time five years previously. She was young and attractive and as smart as they come. She'd also had a crush on me. Holly had asked me to get rid of her when Laura had blatantly flirted with me at a work function. To appease Holly, I had.

"That's different."

"How? Sophie fancies you and has set about seducing you. Laura did the same with me."

"But Sophie's a woman, not a younger man."

"So, its only cheating if the gender is opposite?"

"No, of course not, David. But you aren't bisexual and Laura wasn't a younger man, and you don't have all these unexplored urges."

"Oh, so if I was bi and wanting to have sex with another man you'd be okay with that?"

Holly hesitated.

"I don't know, but I'd at least listen."

"I have listened, Holly. I've listened and thought about it and tried to understand and put myself in your shoes and, at the end of the day, I believe my decision to say no is the right one for our marriage. In fact, I'm going to ask of you what you asked of me with Laura; I want you to terminate Sophie's employment."

"No! I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"She hasn't done anything wrong."

That got me hot under the collar.

"I disagree. She's kissed her employer who happens to be a married woman. That's both wrong and inappropriate."

"But I kissed her back."

I took a deep breath to control my anger. "Thanks for the reminder. All the more reason to fire her. If you can't be trusted to control yourself you need to remove the temptation."

"I can be trusted, David."

"Holly, you've demonstrated you can't be. You've already lied to me and you've crossed a line; kissing someone other than me is cheating."

"It was only a bit of damn kissing."

"There's a reason hookers won't kiss their clients. It's intimate. As much, if not more so, than intercourse. As far as I'm concerned you've been intimate with someone outside of our marriage."

"She's not some guy. I'm bisexual. I have needs."

"Enough with the fucking bi shit," I yelled, losing it for a moment. I inhaled, trying to regain control. "It's doesn't matter the gender. You were intimate with someone other than me. And I don't want to hear anymore about your bloody needs. If I said I needed to fuck a twenty-two year old, that it was important to me to see her bouncing up and down on my dick, that I had a powerful urge to have her suck my cock dry, would you be accommodating? Would you be saying, 'Go ahead, David, explore your needs with my blessing.'" I didn't give her time to answer. "We already know the answer to that, don't we? No, you wouldn't. You'd be jealous. You'd feel threatened and insecure and you'd fucking have me fire the bitch. So, Holly, fire the bitch."

*****

LIFE, POST THE biggest argument I'd ever had with Holly appeared, on the surface, to resume its former pattern.

Beneath the surface was another matter.

It was as if I was a player in Survivor, a TV reality show I'd always abhorred, and not only was I a team of one, I was the show's only viewer and I was watching a disaster happen in slow motion, unable to stop it from happening.

Instead of living my life, I was merely observing it. Physically, I was there going through the motions, but mentally and emotionally, I was removed.

And in some ways, Holly, as much as Sophie, became the enemy, because being around her hurt too much. I was both angry and in agony that she was no longer solely mine. That she hadn't—wouldn't—fire Sophie as I'd asked. She may not have fully consummated things with Sophie, but emotionally, she had transgressed. Her heart was no longer mine alone. Holding it all in and trying to present a calm and in control front was exhausting.

The more withdrawn I became the more solicitous Holly became of me. Even that got my blood boiling—I recognized she was in 'weathering the storm' mode, hoping I would find my way through and give her my blessing.

Of course, the irony of it all was the storm she was weathering was none other than Cyclone Holly.

And Cyclone Holly was destroying everything in its path.

*****

I WALKED IN the door to the aroma of lasagne, probably bought from my favourite Italian restaurant. I knew immediately Holly was going to work on me, trying to break down my resistance. I was instantly on the defensive; furious that her opinion of me was so low she thought a bit of pasta and sweet-talking would make me change my mind. Well, I had news for her and it was all bad.

My assumptions were confirmed when I walked into the dining room to find it lit by candles, a bottle of wine chilling in the ice bucket, and Holly wearing some flimsy number that advertised her assets. So deep was my fury, I thought about stringing her along just so the let-down would disappoint her all the more, but I realised I wasn't a good enough actor to hide my feelings for five minutes let alone an hour.

"You're wasting your time. No amount of sex, Italian food, wine, or cajoling is going to get me to change my mind. I will not share you. I, for one, am fighting with all I have to save our marriage—"

At the beginning of my tirade Holly looked crestfallen, but as soon as she heard the words 'save our marriage' she interrupted me.

"But it won't end our marriage. It's no threat to our relationship. I love you. I always will. Nothing and no one can change that. I'll never leave you."

I shook my head, emotions of sadness and anger, like oil and water, swirling uneasily in my gut. "Do you actually listen to yourself, Holly? There are two people in our marriage, not just you. You may not ever wish to leave me, but have you spared a thought as to whether I might choose to leave you?"

Holly gasped. "You wouldn't. You couldn't; you love me."

"Yes, I do, but there are limits to my tolerance. Mark my words, if you cheat on me I will leave you, and," I paused for emphasis, "without so much as a backward glance."

Holly stared at me, weighing my resolve. Clearly, she still wasn't convinced.

"But if you gave me permission, it wouldn't be cheating."

I had to give her full marks for effort; she was like a broken record in her efforts to wear my resistance down.

"But I won't give you permission. Not ever."

"David—"

I'd reached my limit. "Enough, Holly. You're flogging a dead horse. I actually have some news and a proposition of sorts for you."

Her eyes lit up. How she could interpret my words as hopeful after what I'd just said was beyond me, but I no longer cared.

"We won the Carlson Project. I have to go to site and meet with Carlson about a few small changes and take care of contracts etcetera. I'll be gone a week."

Holly looked bemused and I swallowed the disappointment that rose in my throat at her lack of joy or pride that Ben and I had won such a prestigious contract. She was so consumed by her 'urges' she was blind to all but herself.

"I want you to take a week off at the same time. Go for a short holiday, work from home, whatever. The point is I want you to not see Sophie for a week. I'll be gone and so you won't see me either. I want there to be no phone calls, no texts, no emails. I want you to completely isolate yourself so neither Sophie nor I can influence you. And then I want you to think about what you want. It's time to vote, Holly. You need to decide if you want me and our marriage or you want to explore your bi side and have an affair with Sophie."

"I want both," Holly replied in a small voice.

"Well, you can't have both. It's me or her. Your decision. If you choose her I will walk away, and we can split things amicably. We're both adults and I don't think either of us wants to traumatise Caitlyn any more than we have to."

"You can't be serious. You'd rather divorce me than support me?"

"Yes. I can't support you breaking the promises you made to me on our wedding day. It makes no difference to me that the person you want to screw around with is a woman. Just as I wouldn't expect you to condone me giving in to temptation and fucking Laura Hartley until my cock dropped off, I can't sanction you getting your jollies with another woman. Part of the commitment we made to each other was fidelity; that means resisting temptation. I've kept my end of the bargain. Now you need to decide if you're going to keep yours."

Holly stared at me for what seemed a long time, her features neutral. No anger. No joy. No sadness. No nothing. I couldn't tell what she was thinking. In the end, I broke the silence.

"So, what's it to be, Holly? Do you agree to my proposition? No contact with either me or Sophie for a week? And then a decision one way or the other so we can end this nightmare."

"Yes. Okay. If you insist."

Holly's tone was rough, like her words had been dragged over gravel. Perhaps the same gravel residing in the pit of my belly.

*****

I DROVE THROUGH the suburban streets that would lead me home, windows down, Bon Jovi playing softly in the background. My marriage, my entire life, was imploding so what type of music did I choose to listen to? A raw and angsty love ballad by one of my favourite bands. It was salt in the wound. Perhaps, I had more of a masochistic streak than I realized.

Normal everyday sights and sounds drifted in from outside: someone mowing their lawn, an elderly gentleman washing his car in the driveway of his house, a dog barking, kids playing in their front yard. Somehow, it all seemed surreal. How could the world around me continue to function in its usual fashion when everything in my life was anything but normal and mundane?

The pendulum of my emotions, which had been swinging back and forth the entire time I'd been away, was now firmly planted on the side of reluctance to reach my destination. Physically, I was tired and longed for nothing more than a hot shower and the comforts of my own home. I wanted to be surrounded by familiar sights, sounds, and smells. I wanted my old, much-loved routine. I wanted Holly to be waiting for me, all smiles and open arms, eager kisses and impatient hands.

Emotionally, though, I was fairly certain that routine was history; the same as so many of our other routines had become things of the past in recent months. If my life was a house, it was being dismantled brick by brick. Soon there would be nothing left but the scar on the earth where it once stood.

Stubbornly, a small voice inside my head kept trying to reassure me. Of course, she'd have missed me. Of course, she'd be pleased to see me; glad I was home.

Of course, she'd have chosen me.

Another voice was certain the lure of the unknown would be too strong, and she'd choose Sophie.

I looked at my hands. They clenched the steering wheel so tightly my knuckles were white. I made myself loosen my grip.

The closer I got to our street the more reluctant I felt and my grasp on the wheel tightened again. What if she'd disregarded the rules we'd agreed upon? What if they were having sex right at that very moment, trying to squeeze in one more before I got home? What if Holly had that dishevelled, just-fucked look I knew so well? Or I kissed her, and her mouth tasted of Sophie's cunt? Worse, what if I walked in and they were still at it, so caught up in their lust they didn't even hear my car?

A sound like a cornered animal assaulted my ears and I decelerated, scanning the road and pavement in search of the source of the noise. Even after finding nothing it took me a moment to realize the sound had come from me. Horrified, I clapped my mouth shut. A flash of anger at Holly shot though me; this is what she'd reduced me to.