Swinging for Dummies

"I bet."

"No need to be sarcastic, okay? I don't need that shit. If you can't handle your own actions, please deal with it yourself."

That was cold. We'd had arguments before, maybe even fights, but I'd never seen her that uncaring. What had happened to my wife, who loved me and had always cared about what I felt, even when we disagreed? Whatever was going on inside her, she just turned around and went to the bedroom. A half hour later I finally got up to check on her and found her deeply, peacefully asleep. Not having slept much, myself, I took a few blankets and made myself somewhat comfortable on the sofa. I had no desire to touch her right after she came home from her lover.

I woke up early Sunday morning and felt great for a few seconds, until I remembered the mess my life had turned into. I looked around and saw Carla in the armchair, watching me calmly.

"Morning, Martin." No 'honey', I noticed. No smile on her face, either: I might as well have been a stranger. "Feeling better?"

"Can't say that I do. I feel more rested, though." If she knew what I was talking about, she didn't let it show. "How about you?"

"I feel great, thank you. Would you like a Cappuccino? Or fresh orange juice, maybe?"

"We have oranges?"

"No, but I could get some if you want me to."

"It's Sunday. The shops are closed."

"Oh. But I could make you a nice Cappuccino, exactly as you like it."

What was happening here? This extreme politeness was disturbing. Was this her way of saying she was sorry?

"That would be nice, honey." I used 'honey' deliberately, but she didn't react.

"One moment, one Cappuccino coming up, sir."

She gave me a professional smile that had no warmth whatever, like a damned waitress, and left the living room towards the kitchen. I realized that she hadn't mentioned me sleeping on the sofa at all. I also noticed that her hair was still wet. This was a signal. She always dried her hair immediately after washing it, but she hadn't this morning. She obviously wanted to show me that she had showered. Did that mean that she wanted me to touch her? Have sex with her? The thought was not very appealing. I would have to compete with her recent memories of an extremely experienced man, and I didn't want to fight a battle that I couldn't win. Worse, I simply didn't feel attracted to her anymore. I think part of it was that cold distanced attitude she was carrying around.

I heard the Espresso machine humming and hissing before she came in with an immaculate Cappu. She had even added some chocolate powder, but it wasn't heart shaped, as it had been on my birthday.

"Thank you very much, Carla." I decided to forgo the 'honey' this time. If she was going to play the waitress, I could play the customer.

"You're welcome, Martin."

I sipped my Cappu while she watched me, self-assured and calm. Her face was pleasant, but expressionless; she might have been riding a bus. There was certainly no love there. She was definitely a changed woman after her experience with this Michel guy. My mood darkened further.

"It's going to be a bright, sunny day. You want to go somewhere with me, Martin?" she asked. Her tone was friendly and upbeat, but completely impersonal. She might have been asking a co-worker if he'd seen the stapler.

Avoiding the elephant in the room was killing me.

"What about us?" I didn't even think about it, it just came out. I couldn't take the tension any longer.

"I won't talk about it. Not now. Not ever. I'm sorry if you have problems with what happened, but I don't."

Silence. I didn't know what to say for a few moments. Carla just sat in her chair, with that damnably contented expression on her face.

"No," I finally said.

"What?"

"I don't want to go anywhere today."

"Okay, fine," she answered brightly.

"With you."

"Okay. No problem." Her tone was still polite, but the message was rock-hard. She didn't care.

We spent the rest of the day dancing around each other, being overly polite while avoiding any touch or sign of endearment. We had loved each other for years, but I knew that on that day there was no love in her for me. I couldn't detect any feeling for me at all. What had she done? What had he done? And why the hell had I given them permission to do it, if that's what I did?

I slept on the sofa again and she didn't seem to care at all.

I left for work on Monday as early as humanly possible, just to get away from Carla. I constantly imagined her being with that disgustingly good-looking asshole, but that idea failed to upset me as much as I thought it should. I think my heart knew even then that I had lost her love; it was someone else's now. It had all changed in one night, and I had completely missed the importance of the critical moments.

We continued to live as roommates for the rest of the week, being ridiculously polite while still avoiding each other's touch. I continued to sleep on the sofa and neither of us mentioned it. She dressed down completely and didn't even wear make-up for the first time since I'd met her. It was as if she wanted to remove any trace of sexuality from our relationship. The signal was clear enough: I had been replaced in that regard by someone more attractive. I didn't even feel angry. I had lost Carla's love; the sex didn't mean much without it, anyway.

I was painfully aware that from Carla's point of view, I had agreed to everything that happened, so any consequences were on me. I still felt like the aggrieved party. Hadn't it been generous of me to give her some kind of free pass, even if I was too messed up to know what I was doing? Didn't that deserve some consideration? On the other hand, she'd given me a free pass for the night, too. It wasn't her fault I hadn't used it. I guess I just wanted her to be a little sorry that my night hadn't gone as well as hers obviously did. To care, even just a little bit, how I felt. She didn't.

I came home from work on Friday afternoon to find her already sitting in our kitchen. I noticed that the apartment appeared to be emptier than before and I immediately knew what that meant. She was about to leave me, and surprisingly, I didn't even feel sad. I didn't feel much at all. She had the decency to look a bit unsure while she asked me to please sit down with her.

"Martin, I'm terribly sorry how all of this has turned out. I never planned it this way, you have to believe me. I still love you, but I love Michel, as well. I know this is terribly unfair to you and it pains me to hurt someone I love as deeply as I love you. It sounds trite, but I can't seem to resist the physical attraction." This sounded suspiciously like a rehearsed speech.

"I see," I said in a neutral voice that made me proud.

She looked a bit surprised, obviously having expected a slightly more emotional response from me. She gathered herself quickly, though. "I don't want to cheat on you. I respect you too much to ever do that." I couldn't help but snort. "No, I've never done that. I had your permission after the party. Don't deny that. I don't even think it was a misunderstanding. You meant it at the moment, and regretted it afterwards."

The fact that I'd been in no condition to consent to anything seemed irrelevant, as Carla had clearly decided what she was going to do and didn't want to accept any blame for it, so I remained silent.

"Just to clarify, I haven't seen him since I returned home from the party. I have not cheated and never will. I'm ending our relationship today, I will move into his apartment and I will not cheat on him either."

"He will cheat on you, though."

I had her there. I could see it in her face. She knew it just as well as I did.

"I hope he won't," she softly replied.

"You know he will. You are leaving all of me for a small part of a male slut."

"Maybe I'm starting with a small part, but I hope I'll get more."

"You... seriously? You won't get all of him." I was astonished. "That's okay for you?"

"No. I don't like it. I accept that it might be inevitable. He is out of my league, and that might be price I have to pay. I hope I will be enough for him, though."

"But you'll accept when you aren't?"

"Accept would be a stretch. I hope I could live with it, should it happen. I hope he will be discreet."

I couldn't help but feel insulted. This guy was obviously so much more attractive than me that before their relationship even started, she was accepting him cheating on her. He was so irresistible that a small part of him was preferable to all of me. It was strange. I loved this woman, at least I had for years. But now, I didn't recognize this woman who had been my roommate for the last week, and I surely didn't like her anymore. She had revealed a side of herself that shocked me. She was willing to debase herself this far for some guy who wears Spandex trousers to a party? Why should I respect her if she didn't respect herself anymore?

Most of all, I was relieved that this damn unbearable tension was finally broken. Something needed to be done, and something now had been done. I felt the tension finally leave my body for the first time in a week. What had just happened had the potential to damage my self-esteem, but it was a price I was willing to pay to finally get rid of the millstone I had been wearing around my neck for the past few days. The tension was replaced by calmness and a bit of tiredness.

"He will drop you soon, you know that?"

She just looked at me sadly. "I'm really sorry, Martin. You really have no idea about anything. My poor Martin." Her pity was something I really couldn't stand, so I chose a more aggressive route.

"Will you file for divorce, or shall I?"

To my surprise, she looked surprised.

"What? Why?"

We were both a bit confused, obviously.

"Carla, you surely don't expect us to remain married, do you?"

"Well... Martin, don't get me wrong, please. I still love you."

I knew that she didn't, but I also knew that nothing I could say would change her mind, so it wasn't worth arguing about.

"You're not about to make this easier, are you?" she asked.

"I'm terribly sorry," I answered a bit sardonically, "but I don't even know what 'this' is."

"Martin, I know very well that what I have with Michel is not a long-term thing. I don't expect you to remain celibate while you wait for me to come back to you. I just don't like that divorce thing..."

She totally surprised me by starting to bawl. Her arrogant mask crumbled. Her head dropped onto her crossed arms and she cried like a little girl. This was the first real emotion she had shown since the night of that damn party. I felt sorry for her, but I was not willing to comfort her. That was her husband's responsibility and that wasn't me anymore. I simply waited until she was finished. When she finally was, she looked at me sadly.

"You hate me, don't you?"

"No, but I certainly don't like you anymore."

"I can't blame you. I'm really so sorry, Martin, but I have to do this. It is inevitable. I have no real choice about this. I never had."

"I see."

"It might not last, though. We don't need to divorce."

"We will," I answered more confidently than I felt.

"I see. I'm really sorry.

"I have to go now," she added after an uncomfortable silence.

She just stood up, looked at me one last time and left my life. I wasn't sad, I wasn't relieved any more, I wasn't angry. I just felt empty and tired.

My phone rang, breaking the unbearable silence that dominated my apartment these days. Damn, the display showed Lucas' smiling face, looking relaxed and at ease. Smug bastard. I wasn't sure if I wanted to talk to anybody.

"Yeah," I finally answered the phone.

"Martin, everything okay?"

"Yeah, sure." Then I thought about how idiotic it was to pretend anything was all right. He wouldn't have called if he didn't have an idea about what happened. "To be honest, nothing is all right."

"I was afraid of that when I saw you having semi-sex with Pauline and heard about Carla leaving the party with Michel. Martin, I genuinely like him. Most things about him are just great. I would trust him with my life. But he is an absolute asshole when it comes to women."

"Shit."

"Exactly. There are two things you need to know. I have yet to meet the woman who can resist him if he really wants her."

"Hmm."

"Not every woman is vulnerable to him, but he's very good at spotting the ones who are, and working on them until they give him what he wants. Carla is obviously one of the vulnerable ones."

"Tell me about it."

"The second thing is, that man has absolutely no morals and will fuck anything female that's still breathing. I literally had to hide my underage nieces from him. He would have fucked them without a second thought, and they would have let him."

"Lucas, I'm so glad you have good news to cheer me up. Your warning may be a tiny bit late, though."

"Why did you let her leave with him, anyway?"

"Lucas... Honestly... I wasn't myself at the party. Why did you have to ply me with drinks, joints and whatever, by the way?" I asked, getting a bit agitated suddenly.

"Man, I gave you maybe one or two drinks and one joint. I have no idea who gave you the rest, whatever it was, but I don't think it matters, anyway."

"What?"

"Martin, you're an adult man. Nobody forced you to do anything."

I realized he was right. It would have been so much easier if I had someone to blame. Damn.

"Shit."

"Martin, Michel will drop Carla at some point. He'll tell her that up front, but she probably won't care. She will stay with him as long as he wants her, consequences be damned."

"Shit," I answered for the umpteenth time.

"He might drop her very soon, maybe even today. He won't care if he destroys a marriage for a quick meaningless fling. He's not really evil; he just doesn't care much about others and doesn't understand the concept of monogamy. He will cheat on her from the start and she will know it and accept it. He has that kind of power over some women."

"I almost feel sorry for her."

"Right. Good luck man. You will get her back eventually. I have never seen him with the same woman for more than a few weeks. Remember that you love each other and that you will get through this. She will owe you big time and she will know. She's a good person. Be patient. Try to relax, there's nothing you can do now anyway."

Carla was a good person and loved me? All I could say was, Lucas hadn't seen my impersonal excessively polite roommate during the last week of our marriage. Love had nothing to do with it. Not love for me, anyway.

Even though a divorce would be easy, I never got around to actually doing it. I had other things to do, mainly changing my whole life. As I never received papers, it seemed Carla felt no need to do it either.

I was invited out by our friends a lot in the weeks to follow. After an initial reluctance to go, I was informed that Carla and the new love of her life were completely shunned by everyone. Knowing that, it became easier for me to attend the gatherings. I was a bit of a fifth wheel, though. For some reason, I had zero interest in the fairer sex. I just accepted that and had no urge to investigate the reasons.

I saw the happy couple around town from time to time and carefully avoided them. No need to give them a good laugh at my expense. After getting over the initial shock, I knew that I still loved her. It tore me apart to see how happy they seemed to be and know that she was gone in part because of my own drunken idiocy.

I spent about half a year rebuilding my life. Where Carla had been the center of my attention for years, I now had no interest in women at all. If someone had chained that damn Redhead from the party onto my belly nude, I doubt that I would have been interested. I lost contact with most of my friends as well, as I always felt like a hanger-on and wasn't willing to endure pitying looks. Even without friends or a woman at my side, I regained some form of happiness. I was mostly too busy to think about such things, anyway.

One thing I finally managed to do was to get divorced. We didn't have direct contact during the process and I have to admit she made it as painless as possible for me.

I was distracted on a late Monday evening by my doorbell. That usually meant some package was being delivered, as I avoided shopping as much as I could.

I opened the door and was shocked to see Carla standing there. She looked a bit different. Her hair was shorter and she looked up at me timidly.

"Hi Martin." She even smiled a bit. "You look good." She was right; I was in the gym whenever I had the time.

"Carla," was all I could reply.

"May I come in?"

"Sure. You know the way."

She looked around curiously. If she was looking for changes in what had been our apartment, she could have saved herself the time. There hadn't been any. I had other priorities.

"May I," she asked, pointing at her old place at the kitchen table. It was exactly where she had been sitting as we had our last talk. I doubted that anyone had sat there in the meantime.

"Martin, I feel the need to explain a few things."

I just waited, genuinely puzzled. Everything seemed pretty clear to me; what was there to explain?

"Please don't hate me. I really didn't want to hurt you, but I just fell in love. We are really happy together. I loved you, too, hell I still do, but what I have with Michel is so much stronger, so intense, I can hardly stand to be away from him even for a minute."

Shit. I didn't need this. Why was she here? To gloat? To rub my face in her happy life with Asshole while still claiming she loved me? To reopen old wounds that were just starting to heal, while claiming she didn't want to hurt me? Shit.

"I'm pregnant."

It was like a bomb dropped on me. Carla was pregnant? She really had to love him a lot to be careless enough to let that happen. Obviously, her mind was so clouded with passion that she forgot to take the pill regularly, something she had always done as if her life depended on it while she was with me.

"How did that happen?" Okay, not the most intelligent question, as I had already figured out the most likely way it had.

"It was planned."

Now, that really shocked me to the core. That was the ultimate betrayal.

"You never wanted to have my child, but immediately agree to have his? Did you ever love me?"

"I loved you, and I still do."

"Bullshit." I saw no reason not to call her on it.

"He always wanted to have a child," she answered with a dreamy expression, as if that should matter to me.

"DAMN! So did I!" I exploded.

"It's going to be a boy. He's so excited," she calmly answered. It was as if I hadn't said anything.

I decided that I really didn't need any of this. Without another word, I stood up, grabbed the collar of her jumper and pulled her to her feet.

"Go, just go!" I demanded while I pushed her out of my apartment.

"Martin, have you gone crazy?" She was shocked and unbelieving, as if she couldn't see what she might have done wrong. What a damn bitch, I thought, while closing the door behind her. I felt the strong urge to wash my hands afterwards. Love me? Hell no.

I seriously didn't recognize her anymore. It was as if she had been brainwashed.

A few weeks later Lucas called me again.

"Hey, Martin! How you doin'?"

"Just working, working out, sleeping. Living the dream life, you know?"

"That sucks. Hey, we're going to have one of our famous parties again, next Saturday."

"Ah, I don't know...," I started to decline, thinking about where the whole mess had started.