Survivor's Remorse

The fact that my father, an ordained minister, had used the word "screwing" told me how angry he was.

"Dad, I didn't mean it like that," I said. "I was talking about before the accident. When Vee was driving his Mustang, he had this custom tuned exhaust system that I could recognize from any other car. And it was loud enough that you could definitely hear ... " Before I finished my statement I stopped. Something had begun to click in my mind.

"I remember that," he said. "He was really very much into that car ... Really all Mustangs. I remember sitting around talking to him at Christmas. I would try to talk about the spirit of the Christmas season; he would talk about how much he hoped you were giving him a Turtle Wax gift package."

My dad turned to me then. "Why didn't he buy another Mustang?" he asked.

"I was just wondering that," I said. "Daddy, I just realized something ..."

Before I could finish my thought, Vee was pulling out a chair. My dad and I had been so locked in our conversation that we hadn't seen him approach.

"Are we actually going to order, or just talk?" he asked.

"What do YOU think?" asked my dad.

"I've been at work all day and it was a very stressful day, so I'd like to eat if you don't mind," he said.

"Whatever you want, Honey," I said. "That's why I picked this place. It's your favorite restaurant."

"Wendy, please don't do that," he said.

"Don't do what?" I asked. I'd been absent mindedly twirling a lock of my blond hair around my finger. I knew seeing that turned him on, but I pretended to have forgotten.

"Don't call me Honey, or anything else outside of my name," he said evenly. "You've spent God knows how long sneaking around screwing other guys behind my back. You don't get to rip my heart out and then pretend that we're here for tea."

My dad's eyebrows rose.

"I'm sorry Vee," I said. "It's a habit. For the past ten years you've been the most important man in my life ... sorry Dad."

"Don't be," said my father. "That's the way it's supposed to be."

A waitress came over and took our orders. None of us wanted any appetizers we just wanted food.

"Vee, considering the circumstances, you seem to be handling things really well," said my dad. "I mean ... You loved my daughter a lot, yet with the exception of you beating the crap out of the man she cheated with, you haven't shown very much anger at all. I guess in these cases, at least those that I've handled for the church, there's always a lot of yelling and screaming. There's a lot of arguing back and forth, but there hasn't been one angry phone call between the two of you."

"He doesn't answer my calls or return them, Dad," I said. My father gave me that withering look that told me to shut the fuck up because he was trying to make a point or get some sort of confirmation on an idea he was working on.

"I do ... I mean DID ... Love Wendy a lot," sputtered Vee. "That's why I'm trying to handle this as calmly and professionally as I can. Yelling and name calling won't solve anything. I just want to end this situation and move on with my life."

"So which is it?" asked my Dad. "You said you do love her and then you changed it to did."

"I don't know," said Vee.

"Did you ever think that maybe there's another way to handle this?" asked my Dad. "Maybe a divorce is the easiest way or the most efficient way ... But is it necessarily the best way?"

"I don't know that either," said Vee. "I'm just trying to do what's best for both of us."

"But you haven't even spoken to her. How do you know what's best for both of you?" asked my Dad.

"Wendy obviously doesn't love me anymore," said Vee. "She cheated on me. That proves it. And I have no intention of staying married to someone who cheats on me. Life is too short for that kind of misery. So our best option is a quick and fair divorce. We're both young enough to start over. My Lawyer consulted all of the state laws in drawing up the settlement. We came up with what most reasonable judges will allow. I might consider paying her a small amount more, or I might consider extending the payments a few months more, but that's the limit. If she becomes unreasonable, I would have to change the reason for the divorce and in that case not only would her name and reputation become stained, she'd end up with a lot less."

"Maybe I don't give a damn about any money," I said. "Maybe all I want is a chance to save our marriage."

"I have trouble believing that," he said. "You had the marriage. You were the one who threw it away."

"I ... I didn't think that was what I was doing, Vee," I told him.

"That makes absolutely no sense at all," he said.

"Vee, I love you so much," I said. "But for the past few months there's been something wrong with you. You're not the same."

"How am I different?" he asked.

"It's hard to say," I said. "Can I explain it to you without you getting angry and ..."

"I'm pretty sure that won't happen," said my Dad. Vee just nodded.

"I don't know when it happened, but for the past few months you've been ... Well ... Flat. You never get excited anymore about anything. You don't react to good things or bad things. Emotionally you're a flat line. You don't seem to care about anything. You didn't even want to have sex with me. We went from any and every time you could get some, to me having to beg you for it. And even when we did it, it wasn't the same. You didn't seem to care whether we did it or not."

I was hoping that you would snap out of it but you didn't. And when I confided in Janice, I guess Rick over heard us. While Janice was out of the room, he told me that it sounded as if you had lost interest in me because you'd found someone else.

I was angry and jealous and horny. And he used that against me to get me into bed. I hate to admit this with my daddy present, but I'd do anything to fix things between us. So I'll say it. Vee, I'm practically a nympho when it comes to getting my sex. For the past eight years I' e been your nympho. I have never cheated on you before this, but I really believed that you were having an affair.

Everything I did with Rick was only physical. I know it sounds hokey but I needed sex, Vee. And that's all it was. It didn't mean anything. I was going to tell you about it but I needed for us to be on even ground. So I hired a PI to follow you around. That was why I feel the worst. I found out that you weren't cheating on me at all. I just didn't know how to explain how you were acting. I started to believe that you had just fallen out of love with me. You acted like such a robot."

"How do you feel, Vee," asked my dad.

"I don't know ... Numb," he said.

"After everything she just told you? How can you not feel ... Something? Anger ... Sadness ... Understanding ... Curiosity ... Forgiveness ... Hatred ... You have to feel something!" said my Dad.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to feel," Vee told him.

"You two don't need a divorce," said my dad. "Vee, do you trust me?"

"You ... Yes," said Vee. "Her ... Never again." That hurt me more than anything. I started crying.

"He doesn't mean it Wendy," said my Dad. "I've figured this out. But I can't fix it. We need a professional for that."

"Vee, I need you to call off the divorce until you get some help. I don't know what caused it. But you are showing all the signs of a very serious, very severe clinical depression. You are emotionally bankrupt. So much so that it led Wendy to believe that you either didn't love her anymore or that you were cheating on her. You need to get some help. I mean I took a lot of psychology classes in the seminary to help me deal with the problems of my flock. But what you're going through is beyond my skill level. I'm pretty sure that a professional will want individual counseling for both of you and then marriage counseling."

"Okay ... Maybe we're both fucked up. We're both broken toys. Why shouldn't we just both go to counseling and go our separate ways," said Vee.

"Because you two love each other," said my dad. "I really believe that when all is said and done, you'll regret it if you let that love die or do anything to kill it."

"I didn't do anything to kill it," said Vee. "That was all her."

"Well just consider this a way of not making any bad decisions until you're both back in your right minds," said my Dad.

Two days later, we each went to our first therapy session with our individual counselors. We'd signed up for a course of therapy with a very well known firm in our area.

Treatum, Cheatham and Runn handled most types of psychological disorders. Our initial assessment meeting had determined that my father knew exactly what he was talking about. I needed therapy to discuss my issues. I was considered a mild sex addict or possibly I just confused sexual desire with affection. My therapist, Dr. Angela Cheatham thought it was interesting that it didn't matter whether or not I had orgasms during sex or whether or not it was good sex, I just seemed to need some sort of sex every day.

Vee, had sessions for his depression with Dr. Runn. All of the doctors who consulted on that initial assessment seemed to feel that Vee's case was more severe and that treating him held the key to possibly saving our marriage. They quickly determined that whatever was bothering Vee had been the catalyst to both the decline in affection in our marriage and my subsequent sexual issues.

By week two of the sessions, even though we hadn't begun joint sessions yet, both doctors believed that I should move back into the house. Vee allowed it and I thanked the Gods, because to me it was the biggest benefit of the treatment that I'd had thus far. It was, in fact, the best thing that had happened to me in a long time.

My sessions were not going the way I thought they would. Dr. Cheatham pointed out several inconsistencies in my behavior.

First off she reminded me that I was fine until Vee's behavior started. And although anything is possible, she had never heard of reactionary nymphomania. She also pointed out something that I had never considered. It had been nearly a month since Vee and I had split up, but I hadn't had any kind of sex since then and I wasn't suffering any kind of problems. Neither nymphomania nor sex addiction can be turned on or off that easily.

She concluded that I had low self esteem and wanted a lot of attention. My parents hadn't given me a lot of attention growing up and when I met Vee at twenty two years of age, he showered me with so much attention that I came to crave it. When Vee went into his depression and wasn't constantly showering me with praise and focusing all of his energy on me I sought it in other places.

I hated that bitch. If she wasn't so highly regarded in her field, I'd have sworn she was just a quack who was after my husband's money.

The thing that scared me was that I had expected therapy to take a long time. She had pretty much figured me out in only a couple of weeks, three if you counted the initial assessment. But they had only begun to delve into Vee's issues. He seemed to be a very tough nut to crack and if we were going to save my marriage, they needed to figure it out.

It took nearly six additional weeks for them to even start making progress. They had actually learned more about Vee and his natural state by talking to my dad than they did from talking to me, or Vee himself.

And in reality, I had to give them credit because it took a while, a lot longer than I had ever expected, but they did figure it out. Even when they did figure it out, I was convinced that they were wrong. It was the absolute stupidest thing I had ever heard of.

I still found it hard to believe after they'd explained it to me. "I was having lunch with my dad one afternoon and since he'd been the one who started us on the whole therapy thing, I wanted to get his opinion.

"So how's the therapy going?" he asked.

"It sucks," I said angrily. "It isn't helping at all."

"So what did they say was wrong with you?" he asked.

"That bitch thinks ... Well ... She claims that I have low self esteem and I need a lot of attention," I told him.

"I agree with half of that," he said, laughing. "Actually I think you think too highly of yourself. And as far as the attention goes, you don't NEED a lot of attention ... You just think you DESERVE it. Vee has you so spoiled that you think you're some kind of Princess."

"I do NOT," I said.

"You're thirty years old and you don't have kids yet. Why don't you work?" he asked.

"Because ... Well I stopped because we're gonna start having kids soon," I said.

"Perfect timing Huh?" he said. "Just when we're about to get some grandkids, you have to go nuts. Are you sure this isn't just so you can keep all of the attention?"

"Of course not!" I spat.

"So what's wrong with Vee?" he asked. I started laughing.

"He has that thing you get when you're the only one who lived through a plane crash," I laughed.

"Survivor's remorse!" said my dad. "How the hell can he have survivor's remorse? He hasn't been in a fire or a plane crash ... The accident! It's the car accident he had about six months ago right? That was when he went into his shell. Why didn't you figure that out? I had no idea that someone had died in the wreck. But it makes perfect sense."

"No it doesn't!" I laughed. "Guess who died?"

"Okay, who?" he asked.

"His fucking car!" I said. "My husband got so depressed that I thought he was seeing another woman because he lost that God Damned Mustang. Instead of just going out and buying another one, he almost ruined our marriage. Who gets that upset about a car?"

"I would!" said a voice from behind us. I turned and saw a woman with several carry out bags from the restaurant we were in. She was taller than me and really pretty. She had that Olive skin tone that always seems to be tanned. And her long hair went almost to her but.

"Car people are just different," she said. "You have to be one of us to understand it."

"Well I'm not," I snapped. "There's this new thing they call BUSINESS! You should get yourself some and mind it."

She shrugged her shoulders and laughed. "I was only trying to help you, Wendy. That's what I get for trying to be nice."

As she walked away, even my dad was looking at her. "Pretty girl," he said. "Where do you know her from?"

"I don't know her!" I spat.

"Wendy, she called you by name," he said. "That's what I'm talking about. No one is as important as you, Honey. You probably forgot ever meeting her. Anyway, when is Vee buying another Mustang?"

"He's not," I said. "Our therapists thought the same thing. I know it's a bad pun, but "if you fall of a horse ... You need to get back on. Everyone can see it except Vee. At first he claimed that he didn't like Mustangs anymore. He was more into jeeps. He had all of these reasons why he liked Jeeps better. Then the therapist got him to admit that he still liked them, he just didn't want one.

He held onto that lie for a couple of weeks, and then he broke down in tears and told the therapists with me present, how he didn't DESERVE another Mustang.

"Daddy that made me so angry. After almost six months of him walking around acting like a God Damned robot, he started talking about that car and all of this emotion just flooded out of him. He laughed, he cried, he fucking glowed. He talked about that car like it had been our baby. He talked about all of the fun he had figuring things out ... And how special the brakes and the motor had been. He talked about all of the sweat and blood he'd put into that machine and while he did it, I saw a glimpse of the man I married."

"It makes so much sense," said my Dad.

"No it doesn't," I spat. "He's fucking crazy! I don't understand him. Daddy, did I ever tell you that Vee got a big promotion. He's his boss now ... you know what I mean. He could just go into any dealership, write them a check and drive home a happy boy again. Why won't he?"

"Oh yeah," said my dad. "A happy boy with a spoiled, cheating wi ..."

I went into shock, hearing him say that. He had stopped in mid syllable.

"I'm so sorry Wendy. You know how much I love you, but you're doing it again," he said.

"Doing what?" I asked.

"You're trying to minimize what Vee is going through, so you'll have all of the attention again. Let's look at the past two minutes. You blew off that woman who probably does understand him, when she tried to explain it to you. Then you told me what Vee is going through. You told me how he needs to get over what he's going trough in order to get your marriage back on track, but still you minimize it.

Wendy, it sounds like he is really suffering over this but you can't even try to understand it. In one breath you swear you love the man and in the next you make it seem like his feelings don't matter because they're not about you.

And Honey, maybe you don't want him to get over this too quickly, you know?"

"Yeah, I do," I said. "I want this over and him back to normal so I ... So WE can go on with our lives."

"Wendy, right now you should start acting as supportively as you can, so HE knows how much you love him. You should be doing this because when he gets over his depression about losing that car that he loved so much his emotions will be unlocked," he said looking at me like I was stupid.

"Daddy, I want that," I said. "I want his emotions unlocked."

"No Wendy, you don't," he said. "You want him to forgive you first. You need for him to start getting over what you did before he starts to feel again. Because if he goes out and buys another car tomorrow and becomes himself again it would be bad for you, Honey. He would drive home all happy about his new Baby and then start looking at the rest of his life. Imagine how happy he would be about that car and then he'd start thinking about his cheating wife. It wouldn't be pretty."

I had nothing to say about that. His words were beginning to sink in. I started to realize that I was not out of the woods by any means.

"What are things like at home?" he asked.

"Not good," l admitted. "That's why I need for him to get over this shit. He barely talks to me. We don't sleep in the same room, let alone the same bed. He cooks his own meals. He wakes up even earlier and stays at work even later. You'd think with him being the boss, he could come and go when he wants."

"Did you ever think about the fact that he has a lot more responsibility at work now?" asked my dad. "And what does he do for fun or to unwind? Before it was always the car. He doesn't have that anymore. Maybe you should try to get him to talk a little bit. Or try to do little things with him. And you're going to have to deal with the fact that sooner or later all of the anger that we were expecting is going to come out and he's going to be pissed at you. You want that. He needs to vent, Honey.

You're the love of his life and you allowed another man into a place that only he should go. That's going to take a lot to get over," he said.

"I did not, Daddy," I hissed. "I just had sex with Rick. I never loved him." He shook his head.

"Try telling him that," he said.

* * * * * *

Vee

I hated the therapy sessions. They were mostly just chances for Wendy to show off her acting chops. The therapist would throw out a question or some new thought she'd had and wait to see everyone's reaction to it. Wendy had to answer every question, whether it pertained to her or not.

She especially liked having the therapist tell me that I was doing something wrong. Last week she cried and gushed for over an hour about how I hardly ever spoke to her. As a result of her tattling on me, I now have to have conversations with her several times a day.