Then Surely We

"How'd it go?" Dwight said from overseas.

"Weird. We had all sorts of trouble finding her husband, Kyle Franklin. He went home to Ohio instead of staying in their house on base. I remembered his last name was Franklin, at least. I made the funeral. When they presented him the flag, he then gave it to her mother. I never got to talk to him," I said.

I heard Dwight exhale, as if he were holding his breath. He did that sometimes during a stressful moment, even when driving. "She and I hardly talked once we were in Afghanistan," he said.

"Oh? Why?"

"Too much to do, and she did her job competently. There was never a supply issue. Knew her stuff," he said. "She thought our whole logistics team was topnotch. S4 loved working with her. Took some of the onus off him."

"Oh," Marge said. He usually wasn't so voluble about issues and people. It was as if he wanted to clear something up about Major Kinnison.

"Did you know anything about her home life?" Jill asked.

He was abrupt, gruff. "Yeah. Got a message from Camp Pendleton when she was TDY out there, needed a D&C. Maybe they were having trouble having a kid or something." I knew what a D&C was. I was a registered nurse until my husband's career demanded my time.

We talked about other things then. The episode didn't seem strange until after we hung up.

Dwight knew gossip? He "knew" his Marines, as a good commander would, but usually it didn't extend to more than married or not, children, education, political connections, that sort of thing. I was surprised he knew so much about the major's situation when she was TDY across the country. So long ago? What month was that? He didn't say.

He'd usually forget things that didn't affect him or the Corps in the long run.

*

Kyle Franklin narrating

I picked up the envelope. "ONLY Kyle" it read in large black marker. On the bottom, in Jill's small and almost unnoticeable cursive, was written, "Read this first, Kyle. Please."

I read it aloud, alone in the room.

Major Jill Kinnison Franklin

Dear Kyle,

I lost the love of my life: you.

I am so sorry. You'll never know how much.

When you left so abruptly that night, I realized I'd compromised all that was best in me. I can't believe what I did, what I agreed to do, the deceit that became my daily nature. I was less than I had been. I don't know why.

I just did it. It was as if I were living two lives at once.

I have ended all personal interaction with Colonel Devereaux. I cut it off without explanation; I even wrote my statement down and memorized it. I told him, "Colonel, our private relationship must end and end now. What we did was wrong, and I need to get past my guilt. I'll tell no one of it, and I expect the same of you." He looked relieved. I was just another problem solved before deployment.

"We'll speak no more of it, Major, at least until we return to the states from overseas," he said. He made absolutely no objection. I noticed he hedged his answer. If he tried to talk of it ever, I intended to notify his wife and you. That is moot, since you are reading this.

I turned and walked away. I will not be alone with him, ever. No one knows of our affair: none of the other Marines, not his wife, absolutely no one. Only you, Ayla, Gil, and (oh my God!), Mom and Dad. I saw Mom's eyes when Ayla told her. I think of those eyes every day now.

I left my phone and computer for you. I was going to destroy them, or erase all messages and recordings, but I have done enough manipulation of you based on my own desires and ruinous thinking. It is up to you what you want to know of my affair with Colonel Devereaux. I think by looking at everything in the phone in order, you'll be able to piece it together with as much detail as you might want. I wish you would not look at the recordings in the computer, but it is your choice. I hope whatever you decide—to see everything or just some things or nothing—it will ease your mind in the long run.

I wish you would destroy everything unread, unheard, unseen. It was an affair. I said things, did them and others... It was licentious and did not consider you and me. Us. I love you, not him. So so sorry.

At least, if you are reading this, I will never have to face you again.

I changed the password on all apps and devices. It's now the same on phone and laptop: (lowercase, no spaces): nonsemperfi.1.

I undermined my life. I hurt the person who most loved me, and it can't be fixed. Maybe it can get better for you, though.

I am lost. I loved you. I died. I failed my family, myself, and you. I even failed the Marines.

Love someone. If you can, forgive me.

Jill

*

Kyle Franklin narrating

I sat back down. We weren't kids anymore.

I stared at her phone. What did I want to know, really? What did I have to know, what could I live without knowing? Could I find happiness without knowing? Would the questions keep coming back? Why couldn't I just be a widower in mourning?

I decided I wanted to know when the affair started, whether the miscarriage was a miscarriage of my child, and why Jill had doomed our marriage for sex. How could she let herself start it? What combination of circumstances led her to fuck her boss? When did Jill lose respect for our marriage?

I was so careful not to develop such a closeness with anyone else. I thought of Mo. Mo was as careful as I, despite... no, BECAUSE she thought she loved me. Little Mo sang about the nobility of marriage at Jill's funeral.

I turned on Jill's phone and computer, and figured out how things worked. Her password worked the first try. I saw my mistake that opened Devereaux's message. Otherwise, I was careful not to risk erasing things. She had recordings and videos on her computer, placed in a file titled ONLY KYLE. I opened her chat and mail on her phone, and everything on her computer. I searched for Devereaux on the phone, and thousands of items populated a list. I skimmed a lot of messages that were about meetings, obviously work, and some that might have been either work or personal. I found texts, voice, chats, and video and opened them by date in order.

I found a date a week after Jill joined the unit. There were some messages regarding work from Devereaux, replies piling on each other, all looked businesslike until almost the end of the second week.

Jill, in a reply to a message congratulating her on selection for major, two days later wrote, "What happened can't happen again. Dangerous in many ways."

Devereaux replied within minutes: "It was great. Unexpected. Unplanned. Wonderful. But never again here, you are right."

Jill: "I was unprotected."

I took a drink for what I read and what I didn't. It burned.

Five weeks later there were a few messages that took on innuendo. It was Christmas day. We were in our house at Camp Lejeune.

Jill: I see now. It is one thing to believe in principle, another to have so many responsibilities that preclude one mistake. I must deal with the problem. But it isn't me. I don't believe in what I'm doing.

Devereaux: I can help. TDY to Pendleton. A week or so from now.

A week or so later, another message and reply.

Devereaux: It would be better if you went off base.

Jill: I'll use a civilian facility.

Jill again: I have an appointment in LA at 0700 Monday. Procedure would be Tuesday.

A few days later, the day before she left for Camp Pendleton, he messaged her.

Devereaux: I'll arrive LAX American Airlines Saturday morning around 1100.

Jill: What about Marge?

Devereaux: I told her I was going to a briefing of regimental commanders at HQ Marine Corps. I'll drive to RDU and fly to LA.

Jill: I'll pick you up. You'll stay till I leave?

Devereaux: Of course.

There was no more for some time.

I realized they didn't need to text then. They were together. They had a baby to abort, lives to rearrange, things to finagle, rationalizations to organize. All those discussions about accepting responsibility for mistakes, valuing the life of the child and doing things the right way were moot, I guessed. Duty, honor, country. Pregnancy would have cancelled her deployment. It would have complicated her life. It might have impacted the mission. Oh, it might have meant a lifetime of lying to her husband.

Her trip to California was to dupe me. It worked. They relied on my trust.

*

Kyle Franklin narrating

The abortion changed their relationship. In the weeks immediately following their unprotected sex, they'd not texted more about sex. After the abortion, they abandoned their reluctance to text about it. Sex started up again for them about a month after the abortion, apparently after a heart to heart talk in Jill's office. They referred to it once, Jill writing, "I can't deny I want you. But we can't blunder around."

They began to have sex regularly, carefully, to maintain their secrecy. They avoided sex at work, although the colonel liked to mash her breasts when they were alone, and she always feared someone would notice her wrinkled blouse. After nearly being caught, they stopped the blow jobs that Jill had been giving him in her office. She, not he, was upset at that. She liked sucking his cock and eating his cum.

As far as I could tell, they met mostly on Saturday afternoons when he would return from his meeting with the division commander's staff, or on Tuesday evenings when he had scheduled meetings in the past. Now he held the meetings at four in the afternoon, freeing up his evening. He had a room on base for those nights he didn't want to drive home out in town; it was unobtrusive. They used it twice a week, occasionally more often. As far as they knew, no one realized they were having sex.

When Colonel Devereaux was traveling for a few days, they had phone sex that he recorded and sent to her computer. I could hear their voices.

Devereaux: I'm alone here.

Jill: Me, too. Are you holding your dick?

Devereaux: Yes. It's soft right now. Hanging between my legs.

Jill: Oooh, I like it soft. I like to watch it get hard. I like to feel it get hard in my mouth, squeezing it with my lips, or on my tongue.

Devereaux: It's getting harder now. Are you dressed?

Jill: No. I'm in my office at home. The door is shut. I just took off my panties. My tits are free. My legs are spread wide.

Devereaux: Are you sitting?

Jill: On my desk, laying back, wishing you were here to put your big hog in me. Is it hard yet?

Devereaux: Yes.

Jill: I'm putting a finger inside me. Now two. How many fingers make as big as your dick? Three? Four? My whole hand?"

Devereaux: Have you ever fisted yourself?

Jill: Not yet, I don't need to when your huge dick is around. I'm putting in a third finger. God I wish your cock was in me."

Devereaux: I'm sliding my hand up and down my cock. Pulling the foreskin down from the head.

Jill: Is it slick with precum? You know how I love licking your precum up.

Devereaux: Yes, it's wet.

Jill: My pussy is all wet thinking of you, feeling my fingers going in and out, wishing your cock were filling me.

Devereax: moan. I don't think my cock has ever been so big.

Jill: I wish I could get more in me! Oh I wish we were fucking.

So it went, sounding awkward in my ears, until he spurted, calling out "Fuck, I'm cumming," and she moaned in response.

Their texts became more and more risqué. I never read a message about me. I read several about the colonel's prodigious and uncircumcised member.

Devereaux: You seemed to enjoy me more yesterday.

Jill: It's a fire hose. I've never... Love it in my mouth before it gets hard. Loved having it rest on my shoulder as I sat in that chair.

Devereaux: It fits you now. No pain anymore.

Jill: You were bigger this time. Felt it against my womb, over and over. LTBFBY

I didn't know the acronym, so I searched back through messages, and realized it meant Love To Be Fucked By You. There were other variations on it: Can't Wait To Be Fucked By You and Want To Fuck You Now. They developed their own little sex language. It was adolescent and probably very exciting for them. He asked her to call him Colonel once, and that became a turn-on for them sometimes. I didn't know what it meant.

There was video. I played the first; it was captured on a computer camera, I think. The light was not good, but you could see it was Jill and Devereaux, and the voices were clear.

"Colonel, I want your big thing in me," she said, laying completely nude on the bed with her legs spread as wide as I'd ever seen them.

"Oh?" he responded coming into the picture, standing by the bed, "You like a big one in your cunt, Major?"

For a moment his cock was visible, soft, as Jill lifted it in her hand and put it in her mouth. I wondered how he could stay soft with her naked and spread, her heavy breasts so desirable.

Jill sucked on him, and he hardened with a moan. Pulling it out of her mouth, she licked around the head as she pulled his foreskin back, and then she looked up at him. "I want you to pound it into me. I want you to try to split me apart, Colonel."

"You're a good girl, you know just what the colonel wants." He was hard and big,

"I want to be your slut, Colonel," she said.

It was unceremonious then, as he first knelt between her legs, lined his cock up with her hole, and rammed it in probably as hard as he could. Jill screamed, but then as he thrust she threw her head from side to side saying, "Oh, fuck me, fuck me more, yes."

"You like my big thing in you," he said.

"I love your cock, it's so good," Jill said, "so far up me!" She threw her head side to side.

"I'm going to fill you with my spunk now, Major," he said.

She said, "Yes, shoot in me. I love being your slut."

A few thrusts later, she said, "Oh, it's getting even bigger! Oh god, Colonel, do it, fill me up with it!"

He drove it very hard then and grunted, and I knew from her little scream that Jill could feel him shooting into her.

"Don't move," Jill said as he lay on her finished. "I want to feel you get soft in me."

A few minutes later, Devereaux got up and shut off the camera.

There was another video that I watched, but it mainly showed them in bed as Jill sucked him off and then they talked about deployment. It was about a week before her leave.

"I doubt we'll be able to get together in the Middle East," Devereaux said. "Too much going on, not much privacy. I think we should leave it for here."

"But I love sucking your dick," Jill said. "No blow jobs at all?"

Devereaux smiled. "It sounds good, but no, I don't think so. Too much chance of discovery. So far no one knows. I don't even think my wife suspects. And she caught me that once, two years ago..."

There was quiet for a bit.

"Are you still having sex with her?" Jill asked.

He laughed. "Not on Tuesday nights or Saturday. You wear me out!" he said.

"Are you fucking your husband?" he asked.

"Yes. Not days I have you."

He asked, "Have you thought about... you know?"

She lifted her head and kissed him gently. "Tuesday."

It was quiet for another bit. Jill was tracing patterns on his chest with her right index finger.

"Does your husband know? Suspect?" he asked her.

"Kyle? No. Not at all. He's... Even with the abortion, he didn't suspect. He trusts me."

I could see Devereaux nodding.

Jill went on, "We covered it well, I think."

"I'm glad you had it done," he said.

"I wish...," Jill said, but then she left off.

A few minutes later, I noticed Jill was quietly weeping with Devereaux's arm around her. After some time, he got up and turned off the camera.

There are all kinds of courage, just like there are all kinds of faithfulness. Perhaps the Corps's culture weakened her resolve. We'd talked about the coarse language commonly used; she avoided using it herself, but it was all around her, she said. Perhaps she compromised her principles to be a member of the unit. Maybe it just happened.

Ah, Jill, by the end, I didn't know you.

Devereaux fucked her in her ass the Tuesday evening before we came home for her leave. It was her first ass-fucking, and from the messages Wednesday, it solidified their relationship.

"It's only yours," she said. "You own my ass. Always."

She said in text, "I had no idea it could mean so much to me, to share part of my body with only you."

He said, "You're mine, Major, I've had my spunk everywhere in you. Mine. Marge is just not the same as fucking you."

"Fucking Kyle will never be the same," she said.

It wasn't only sex. I stared at that text.

The last few messages were regretful that they'd have to desist. The last of her sent messages was the Thursday we flew home for her leave, while on the plane. I don't know if she deleted others from whenever, but there was only the infamous one I'd opened on her phone after the plane flight.

For the first time, I wished Jill were more like Ayla.

I sat for a while after reading so much, seeing so much, having figured out the course of their affair. Then I dialed Ayla's number. When she answered, I told her about the abortion, that Jill had developed a love relationship with Devereaux, and that no one else knew of the affair.

"I didn't think Mrs. Devereaux knew," she said.

"I doubt it, too. He said that once, a few weeks before deployment."

There wasn't more to say. It was very late. We hung up, and I decided to send a message to Mo. She called me back within a minute, and we talked about Anne Bradstreet, marriage, and disappointment.

I was furious at a dead woman and her live inamorato.

Chapter 11: The Return of the Sixth Marines

Ayla, some months later, narrating

"Kyle? Kyle? You there? Awake?" I asked. He held the phone close and I could hear his breathing.

"Yeah, Ay, I'm sober. I'm past that now. Something I should do?" he asked. "You know, we really have no connection now... I mean, she's gone, you have Gil and the girls, I have Wild Turkey. No connection, really."

"Hah hah. Good. You okay? Mom and Dad worry, they always ask. You're not a regular son-in-law, you know."

I heard him sigh. "Yeah, they're pretty great, too. Why the call?"

"Did you get an invitation? Jill's regiment comes home next Friday. They want family, especially family of the five deceased of the regiment, to feel welcome. I think they mean it. It came in the mail."

Kyle was quiet. "At Lejeune? I have some emails recently, but I don't pay much attention to them anymore."

"Yeah. A ceremony, a welcome home, then the guys will be released to join their families. I assume there will be a speech from the colonel. Probably short." I hesitated. "Devereaux."

Kyle said nothing.

"Kyle?" I asked after a minute.

"I'll be there," he said decisively. I was surprised. I thought he'd have to think about it for a bit. I only partly believed him. It had been months, but Jill's unfaithfulness and death were bitter pills.

Perhaps he was ready to stand up again.

*

Ayla Gilstrap narrating

Mrs. Devereaux called me the week before the return.

"We will be there," I said, "Mom, Dad, me, my husband and our girls. But Kyle? You know they had issues."

She responded, "Yes, so I've gathered. I don't understand. Did he oppose her deploying? That can come between husbands and wives."

"No, ma'am, it was personal. Look, I'm tired of beating around the bush. Kyle is a part of our family, but they had a falling out just before the deployment and they never reconciled. Kyle is probably my best friend. I'll talk to him about going, but we won't know until it happens. He told me he would go the other day. Okay?"

Mrs. Devereaux was quiet, then agreed. "Yes, I guess. I'm sorry she left such a loose end as she headed overseas."

"It's left a bad taste, that's for sure," I said.

I called Kyle four days before the homecoming.

"Kyle? Ayla."