Married and Dating Bundle by Alana Claire
Copyright © 2015 by Alana Claire. All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Alias Pen Publishing. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form by any electronic or mechanical means (including photocopying, recording, or information storage and retrieval) without permission in writing from the publisher/author.
This is a work of fiction. Therefore, all characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance whatsoever to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
His Date
Chapter One: Unhappiness in Paradise
Chapter Two: He Drops the Bomb
Chapter Three: The Other Woman
Chapter Four: Caught in the Act
Her Date
Chapter One: A Friendship is Born
Chapter Two: Spilling the Beans
Chapter Three: First Date
Chapter Four: Deeper Connection
Repercussions
Chapter One: Separation
Chapter Two: Questions
Chapter Three: Dating Again
Chapter Four: Reconciliation
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His Date
Chapter One: Unhappiness in Paradise
Bruce sat at the table sipping his coffee like he did every morning before leaving for work, only this morning he had a forlorn look on his face. Lately, he and I haven't connected very well. The passion seems to be burning rather low, in fact, in the bedroom. I have tried to be more to him, by being spontaneous and by being a little more adventuresome in the bed. He responds with a sigh, as if he's utterly bored with me. I don't know what to do to peak his interest again. But I have noticed that we're simply not meshing.
He sets his cup down and smiles at me, the kind of smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Have a good day, love," he says automatically with a quick peck on my forehead and he's off.
"Have a good day," I call to him, but he's already out the door. I'm baffled and don't know what do to so I call my dear friend Ashley and ask her to come over.
"Eileen, I just don't know. Are you sure he's not cheating on you?" Ashley asks, her blue eyes looking up at me.
I fidget with the hem of my blouse and take a deep breath. "I don't want to think that he might be cheating on me, but he sure acts like someone who's getting it somewhere else," I admit.
"Does he stay late at work for meetings?" Ashley asks. She's like my therapist; I'm so thankful I have her to flesh out my problems with.
I think for a moment. "Um, not really; I mean, he runs a dry cleaner. They have days they stay late for deliveries and pick-ups. But whenever I need him I can find him there," I say.
"Might want to check up on him. You know, on days when he's a little late, take a drive to see if his vehicle is there," she says. Then she chuckles. "Of course, he could be riding with her. But then that is risky, 'cause others would see."
Sometimes she's a little too forthcoming. "Oh, Ash, I just can't believe he'd do this to me. Maybe it's just some sort of mid-life crisis."
"Mid-life, schmid-life. He's only thirty-five and it's not like you two have been married for decades. You've barely been married for fifteen years. This is bullshit. He's cheating, you just need to catch his ass," Ashley says as I begin to regret bringing her over. Even though I was thankful for her a moment ago, her all to-honest-opinions sometimes grate on me. I'm an emotional mess, though.
"I'll try to drive by. I'll check the computer, his phone," I say with a sigh.
I travel to my husband's workplace when he has to work late over the next week. His Suburban stays parked in his spot. But he'd come home with a lackluster expression on his face, as if he were totally bored to be home. He doesn't say much to me or our children. Summer is coming on and our two young teens will be going off to a six-week summer camp for youth from the middle of May until the end of June. School will soon finish and the next day they will leave for camp. They had begged to go and Bruce agreed they should. I tried to argue that we have family vacation time and Bruce promised we'd go somewhere in July. It was a losing battle, with my husband, Robby and Tamara taking the same side.
With camp day just a week away I want to plan some good alone time with Bruce. We'll have the house to ourselves for the first time in fourteen years. I'm feeling a little apprehensive about it though, since he's been so cold to me lately.
The rest of the week goes by and the kids leave. I hesitated to allow our fourteen and thirteen year old to go off like that, but Bruce felt it would be okay. I hated to see them go because I honestly don't know what will become of Bruce and me. With the kids here, we are mom and dad; when the kids are gone, we are lost, it seems.
Sunday morning we sit at our little dining table, sipping coffee. It does feel like a rut. He reads the paper, I sit and think and stare out the window. Little white clouds float by in the sky. I wonder what it would be like to be a bird and fly away. I decide I'm tired of feeling depressed so I look at my husband.
"Okay, let's plan some awesome dates while the kids are away," I say with a big smile. Bruce doesn't say anything, but keeps the paper to his face. I lose the smile and set my coffee cup down hard. He jolts and wrinkles the paper down to peer at me with his green eyes. His face, though starting to show some age, could still pass for a twenty-something.
"Like what," he says, sounding a little annoyed. I frown deeper.
"Like, I don't know. We can go on an honest-to-God date. We can act silly. We can have naked day," I say, exasperated at his lack of enthusiasm.
Bruce forms that look on his face, the one he has when he is tired of dealing with me. "I have work. You should take up a hobby or something. I anticipate a lot of work over the next couple of weeks with the end of school and all the uniforms that will need cleaned," he says and pushes away from the table.
Asshole. He goes and does yard work and other busy stuff that keeps him occupied and away from me. I am disgusted by now. He comes in all hot and sweaty and takes a cold shower. I spend time making a nice meal and he falls asleep. I eat alone and he wakes up later and calls in for pizza delivery and plants himself in front of the television, intently watching one of his action movies. No notice of me in the room.
Chapter Two: He Drops the Bomb
I try not to let my husband's inattentiveness get to me, but it does. I'm beginning to think it's over completely a week after the kids have left for camp. Bruce had worked late all week, coming in dead tired. I did spy on him, and he was always there, either sitting in his office or waiting on customers. I haven't caught him doing anything wrong, but his behavior sure points to something. And then he drops a bomb on me.
"We need to talk," Bruce says that next Saturday. He poked his head in the door and walked off towards the living room. I was deep into arranging my scrap book materials, stickers and papers scattered all over our bed. I get up and follow him to the living room. My sixth sense is on high alert. My heart pounds in my chest. He's built up his nerve to say something to me and I have a feeling I know what it is.
I turn the corner and he's sitting in his recliner, feet on the floor, deep in thought. The TV is off so I know this is serious. I timidly step in and he looks up at me. He motions to the couch, his face gra
nite. I mock his look and have a seat.
"Eileen," he says as he releases a breath, his eyes looking at the floor and then darting back up to me. I hold my breath. "I'm not happy, in case you haven't noticed." He chuckles.
Well, pat yourself on the back, you moron, I'm not too thrilled either. I keep a straight face and stare at him, not moving my eyes from his. If he's going to break my heart he'll have to do it while looking me in the eye.
He nods, I suppose he was waiting for me to say something but I didn't. I didn't crack a smile or nod. "I'm just thinking, trying to make sense of it," he says.
"Are you unhappy with me?" I ask in a monotone voice.
He lets out a breath. "No, not with you per se. I'm just unhappy in our situation."
"What situation?" I ask; now I'm aggravated. I've done nothing but bend over backwards to make him a happy husband.
He's beating around the bush. "I...I guess it's our marriage. I don't know. Ei, we started dating at sixteen. I think I dated one other girl when we broke up a year later, I kissed her good night once, and that was it. Then we got back together," he says.
"And this is bad?"
"Well, no. But in a way, yes. I never had a chance to sew my wild oats."
"So you want to go out and sew your wild oats now?" I ask, feeling pissed.
"Sort of," he says and cracks a smile at me.
"Without me," I say while staring a hole through him now.
"Well, not necessarily, just, well, I just need a break I guess," he says.
"You need a break. Like you're moving out, getting an apartment, we're legally separated sort of break?" I ask, my voice squeaking. I'm on the brink of tears now.
"No, I don't want to split up," he says, his eyes softening.
"Phhtt, what?" I can't believe what I'm hearing.
"I want to try something. I want your blessing, though. I mean, we've invested fifteen years of our lives into each other. I don't want to throw that away. I'm asking for a break, though. For an opportunity to go exploring, to see what I missed all those years ago. I think if I could just get it out of my system I'll be okay. Would you be willing to do that for me?" he asks.
I look down, fat tears forming and falling to my lap. I feel as if a bomb just blew up in my life. My husband doesn't want a separation; he wants my blessing to sew his wild oats. "You want my permission to go sew your wild oats?" I ask, barely able to give sound to my voice.
Bruce smiles and turns his head to the side. "Well, not necessarily sewing wild oats. More like permission to date. I want to see what it's like to date someone else," he says.
"Just date, like dinner and a movie? Or date with benefits?" I ask while narrowing my eyes at him as I dab the tears away.
"Well, in today's standards, aren't most dates with benefits?" he says. The knife inserts and twists. I feel as if I'm going to throw up. I am having trouble breathing as I draw in ragged breaths.
"Honey, I'm not asking for a divorce or a separation. I am asking if I can date. I'm not looking for a long term commitment from anyone else. I just want to go out and have a little fun, try some things. It has nothing to do with how I feel about you, but more to do with how I'm feeling about myself," he says as if his answer will calm me.
"You obviously don't love me or you wouldn't want to cheat on me," I spat. I toyed with the idea of saying its over and getting up to pack. But do I really want to do that? Up until a couple of months ago we had a good marriage. We have two well-adjusted kids. Life was good.
He comes over to the couch and sits beside me. I keep my hands in my lap and just stare at the floor. He put his hand on my shoulder. "It's not that I don't love you, Eileen. I do love you. I love you enough to ask you for this. I want our marriage to work. I read about this in one of those relationship magazines. This couple had reached a dry spot. It wasn't that they weren't exciting and fun, they just stagnated. They didn't want to split, so the therapist suggested they date others. It added enough spice to their life that they found their way back to each other, and had some great memories. It made them appreciate each other. But they opened their marriage and it made them stronger. That's what I want for us. It's not us splitting, it's therapy. I need to do this. I need for my wife to be okay about it," Bruce says, his eyes pleading with me to understand.
"You want to date others. You want me to be okay with it. You want to go out and fuck another woman, in essence," I say, still mad.
"I want you to be open about it. I want us to bring back the spice, the fun. I think this is what I need; what we need. Eileen, you have my blessing to date others as well. I want you to have as much fun as I plan to have. Then we will meet back in the middle, and I am betting we'll be stronger and better for it," Bruce says.
"I'm not going to date others. Hell, I don't even know who I'd date. Seriously, I was looking forward to dating my husband while the kids are away. Now you tell me to date someone else, while we live together," I say, exasperated.
"Please, Eileen. Let's just try this. I have to. I'm afraid of what I'll do if you don't give me your blessing," he says.
"What do you mean? Afraid of what? The only other thing you can do is cheat on me behind my back. Or ask for a separation or divorce," I say, blinking up at him.
"Precisely. If you give me your blessing, then it won't be wrong. It will be a fun time. And you and I will still be. If you don't give me your blessing, well," he says shaking his head.
"This is not a question of permission for my blessing, Bruce. This is an ultimatum. You're telling me if I don't, then the alternative is separation or worse," I say.
"Well, yeah. I don't mean to hurt you. And to be honest I almost took the cheating route. But I do love you too much to do that to you. And besides, I want you to go out and have fun too. That's all. I have nothing else to offer. The ball's in your court," he says, his green eyes piercing through my own while waiting for my answer.
I took a deep breath. An ultimatum; I didn't want our marriage to dissolve. I felt I had no choice in the matter but to give my blessing. I did not, however, want to date anyone. I planned to wait it out and see if he would come to his senses.
"Okay," I say in a small voice.
He raises his eyebrows at me. "Are you sure?" he asks, obviously excited.
"Yes, I give you permission to date others," I say and sigh, resolved to let this play out.
"Thank you! You will see; this will do our marriage good. Thank you. And you date too," he says and kisses me.
Chapter Three: The Other Woman
Bruce turned into a different man after I gave my blessing to date others. He acted like a teenager. He whistled and smiled and bounced around the house. It pissed me off though, to see him so happy about doing something with a woman who wasn't me. I kept waiting for him to leave or make a call, but he didn't. He did yard work and we grilled steaks and had a nice supper. To me it was odd behavior.
"How are you going to do this?" I dare to ask after we are settled in the living room that night.
"Hmm, I want to start dating this next week. I have some things in mind," Bruce says.
"So you have someone in mind then?" I ask, feeling the color drain from my face.
"Well, yeah, sort of. It's a lady I met through work, one of our clients. We have had lunch already. It was purely innocent. But we have a mutual friend, Tammy," Bruce said.
I knew Tammy. She was a busy body, always up in everyone's business. She was a cheater, too. Of course she would encourage this. She and her husband often stepped out in swinger fashion. I'm truly surprised Bruce hasn't asked about doing that, but I don't want to encourage that so I say nothing about it. I did ask how Tammy got involved in the process.
"Oh, you know. We talk. Tammy's in there a lot since Amos works there. She noticed how down I've been. She suggested that I talk to you about dating others," he says matter-of-factly.
"Oh really? So you've gone to taking advice from her? I mean, she has such an exemplary marriage," I say sarcastically.
>
"I'm not in the mood to argue. In fact, I'm in a good mood for the first time in months," Bruce says, his eyes sparkling at me from across the room.
"So you've been seeing this friend of Tammy's already?" I ask, wanting to turn the conversation back to the woman who has captured his attention.
"Nothing has transpired yet. We've had lunch a few times, strictly a friendship. She's willing to date a married man without any expectations of a permanent commitment. I think it's great. It will give me an opportunity to scratch this itch," he says light-heartedly.
I can't help it, I'm hurt yet I'm committed to this thing my husband wants to do. His attitude and mood have done a one-eighty since I've said yes to it. He's the old Bruce I married and the one I dearly miss, only his jovial mood has nothing to do with me and everything to do with her. We drop the subject and go to bed. He doesn't touch me and I don't give him an ounce of my affection. The only thing we're doing is sharing the bed.
"She wants to what?" I say into the phone, disbelieving what I just heard.
"She wants to have lunch with you. She wants everything to be on the table. That's what I like about her, she's open and honest. She wants to include you in on this. So what do you say?" Bruce asks.
I inhale deeply. The past few days' life has really thrown a lot of curve balls my way but this one takes the cake. Bruce's new girlfriend wants to have lunch with me. I shut my eyes and grit my teeth. "Okay, I guess so," I say, showing no emotion.
"Great! You will really like her. She's a fun person and can be a great friend."
"Well, you'll just have to pardon me if I don't warm up to the woman who has captured my husband's heart."
"Look, I'm not asking you to be best friends; I just want you to meet her. She just wants to have lunch and make sure you're okay with what we have planned," Bruce says.
"Do I have a choice here?" I ask.
"Well, yeah, of course you do. But I want you included in this," Bruce says.
Married and Dating: 3 Book Bundle Page 1
