by Jaime Thorne
“How does this help?” I asked him, “How does your coming to my doorstep help anything?”
“I don't know,” he said sincerely, “But it wasn't my choice.”
I felt anger welling up inside of me, my calm veneer threatening to break. I didn't know what he was playing at but I knew that it was a game that I didn't understand.
I wanted to rage at him, to threaten him and demand that he walk away. But I knew that I didn't have it in me to make any demands of anyone at this point, so I pressed him for more information instead.
“What do you mean?” I asked, “If not you then whose choice is it?”
“Mine,” came a familiar voice from the bottom of the steps, and when I looked down to see Jeremy standing there my heart leaped and then froze as I wondered at what was happening here.
“I know you're both confused,” Jeremy said quietly, “Why don't we step inside and I can tell you both why you're here.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
BRUCE
I had spent the night in my hotel room alone. I hadn't even gone down to the bar or done anything but lie there on my bed on the top of my sheets and wonder at what I'd done.
I know this will make me seem like an asshole but if you don't think I'm an asshole at this point then you probably haven't been paying enough attention and I doubt this will cross the line. This wasn't the first time I'd broken up a marriage.
I'd been in a place where I'd been hated before, both by husbands and by boyfriends. I'd even been in a place where I'd been hated by the women that cheated with me, having them angry with me and hating me for letting this all happen wasn't new to me.
And I understood it on some level, that the guilt would lead them to seek for someone to blame made sense because it meant that they didn't shoulder all that blame on their own.
In some cases, it meant that they didn't shoulder any of it.
I was fine being the bad guy because it wasn't my life. If things ever got too intense or too serious, if I was ever threatened by getting too involved in something then it was a simple matter of stepping back and stepping away to save me. I put physical distance between myself and the problem, every single time.
And each time it was the same thing. I let them blame me without shouldering any of the blame for it myself. I was just an innocent bystander. I didn't have any irons in that fire, any stake in the game of their relationship.
I wasn't the one cheating, so I didn't hold any of the responsibility.
Choice is important to me. Choice is essential because if you strip away all of the veneer of society and the pseudo-structure of it then it all boils down to choice.
As individuals, we chose what we do. We chose to be a part of society and subject ourselves to the laws of this place. We chose to obey the laws and codes of the world, and we chose to become a part of society.
We chose that because we enjoy the benefits of that choice and we don't like the consequences that face us if we make the opposite decision.
The way I see it if you choose to marry someone it is because you have decided that the benefits of being married to them outweigh the benefits of being single. You choose to commit yourself to one person to be with that person, and you give up on being with other people.
Choosing to cheat on them is then the same thing. You accept that the benefits of cheating outweigh the consequences for you, and you need to face up to and accept those consequences if you are caught.
I didn't choose to cheat on a partner. Not once in my life have I ever cheated on a person that I was in a relationship with.
Now mind you this is because I've never been in a relationship with someone, but the logic still stands. I don't cheat.
But I let people cheat with me, which isn't the same thing. I'm not choosing to cheat in that case, the choice that I'm making is to fuck someone not to cheat on someone.
There is a difference.
That is the logic I told myself year after year. It's the logic that kept me comfort in times like this after it all exploded and the comfort that let me back away when things got too intense.
I didn't have to deal with the aftermath because the aftermath had nothing to do with me.
So why couldn't I walk away now?
On paper, this was no different than any other time before. I'd fucked married women before. I'd done it in my bed and in the bed that they shared with their husbands or boyfriends or fiances. Some of those women had been with men that I'd befriended, who had introduced me to their wives and who considered me to be close enough to trust. I'd even 'dated' some of those women, charming them in the exact same way that I had with Avril and drawing things out to show them that I was absolutely the sort of guy it was worth taking this sort of a risk on.
Nothing that had happened this time was unique or new, and yet it was.
I lay on that bed staring up at the pattern on the ceiling, trying to read it like tea leaves and find some sort of truth about what it was that was troubling me. I lay there all night contemplating it in absolute and sober silence and in the end, well there was only one truth that I could come to.
I had been lying to myself.
My world view was flawed, was incomplete. Choice did have a massive part in making up the future that you make for yourself, but it wasn't all of it. There was something beyond and a part of that choice. Something that was undeniable in its influence over all of this.
Intention.
It was the key to all of this, the reason why my actions went from understandable to inexcusable. Why it was so much more difficult for me to ignore things this time, to put the past in the past and move forward with what came next.
Intention.
But it wasn't as simple as black and white.
With all of those previous times, I had intended to help with cheating. I had intended to put a wedge into those relationships whether out of boredom or because I disliked one or both participants. I had made a deliberate choice to fuck a married woman because I knew it would cause trouble or because I didn't care. Because I had deemed it worthwhile at that time.
That made me terrible, it made my actions inexcusable. It made me a horrible person and I deserved every bit of vengeance and pain that was brought down to bear on me.
But it didn't explain the difference this time. If my intention was the same then that didn't explain why I couldn't have the same result. Why I couldn't just walk away.
The truth was that my intention was not the same. The truth was that my intention was similar but not exact.
And the truth lay in the nuance there. And the truth lay in her.
Avril was the difference, she was the reason why I was still here. Because at it's core while I may have done this with the intention, whether conscious or unconscious, to insert myself into the space between a husband and a wife the core reason was not out of hatred but rather desire.
I wanted Avril. More than I wanted anyone in this world. I wanted her and I wanted her to be a part of my life. I desired her more than I had desired anything and far more than I deserved.
But more even than being with her and more even that having her with me I wanted her to be happy. I wanted the woman that I was in love with to be truly happy in life.
She had been, before I had come along. Before I had come along she had lived content without the knowledge of me. She had been happy with her husband and would have continued to be happy with him if I hadn't arrived and screwed everything up for them.
Lying there on that bed I knew with certainty that I was in love with Avril and that I would do whatever it took to make her happy. Even if that meant a life without me.
I had no right to intercede. No right to insert myself back into their life because even if I had the best of intentions arriving unasked for would only cause trouble.
So I would wait instead. I would wait for someone to reach out to me. I would remain available and ready to give everything up in a moments notice, to do whatever was asked of me knowing th
at it was what was necessary.
I would have waited there in that hotel room for the rest of my days, but it took less than twenty-four hours.
The message I received was so unlike him. It reminded me that Jeremy was not the man that he presented to me. It reminded me that Jeremy was the owner of his own company. Was a force to be reckoned with and to be recognized and respected.
It was not a question, it was a statement bordering on an order. It told me where to be and when to be there and there was no option to refuse if I even wanted to.
The cab ride over to her door lasted forever, and when she was the one that answered I was at a complete loss for what to say, stumbling and fumbling my words until Jeremy was behind me taking control of things.
Taking full control, walking us into the house and leading the way while both Avril and I stared at his back and followed in silence. Neither of us looked at one another, not even when he settled us in the sitting room with each of us taking up spots as far apart from each other as we possibly could.
There was no pause while we each figured out who was going to speak here. Jeremy was the one that was in control.
“Things have gotten out of hand,” he said calmly, his voice even and still as the uninterrupted surface of a deep and vast lake, “And we have all done things that we have come to regret. Moving forward isn't possible without considering what brought us here. We would do ourselves a disservice if we were to let this moment pass without taking the time for self-reflection.”
I looked up at Bruce, seeing him with renewed light. Seeing the way that he kept himself together, the way that he commanded the whole attention of the room when he wanted to.
It was a quiet sort of command, the kind of authority that came from righteous certainty.
He continued, “None of us have been honest with each other, and I'm not just talking about secret affairs or indiscretions.
“I'm talking about our beliefs and our reasons. I'm talking about the way that we see ourselves and the way that we see each other. I'm talking about our desires and our aspirations and our needs. What we want for ourselves and what we want for each other.”
His voice got quiet and he spoke a simple truth, “I don't think any of us really know the others very well.”
I chanced a glance at Avril, at the woman that I loved, with his truth in my mind. I knew that he was right, in an instant I knew it.
I loved this woman and I really did, but I didn't know her. I knew that I would commit to a lifetime of getting to know her but I didn't know her now.
That wasn't a bad thing.
“I know you enough to know that I love you,” Avril said quietly, looking at her husband and trying to fight back tears.
“I know that you do,” Jeremy replied sincerely, “I know that you do and I know that I love you too, love you enough to work towards getting to know you. To getting to know all of us and the relationship that we're going to have going forward.”
Her voice was halting when she spoke. Her words uncertain and coming out with a stuttering stop that made me think she was worried that if she put those words into truth that Jeremy would wipe them away and with them any chance of her dream becoming a reality.
“We're not done?” she asked finally, “You still want a relationship with me?”
“Oh yes,” he said quickly, his voice heavy with emotion, “Oh Avril I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Just as much as I did on the day that we were married. Avril I want to be with you and nothing will ever change that.”
I could tell that they wanted to reach for each other, to comfort each other. I knew that I was the elephant in the room and I wanted more than anything to give them the space to find out these truths for themselves but I couldn't move. I was frozen still and so were they, the gulf between all of us impassable.
“But at the same time we can't go back,” he said, “We can't just ignore what happened here. If we try we'll just wind up in this same place down the road and in truth, none of us really want that.”
I watched her shake, knowing that she dreaded what came next but knowing that it was the hard truths we face that are the most worthwhile.
“Avril. Bruce.”
He turned to face each of us in turn, addressing us slowly and making sure he had our full attention before finishing his statement.
“I want to know you, both of you. I want to know the truth. I want to know why you chose to sleep with each other without me around. I need to know and I think that I deserve it.”
He did. Jeremy deserved a truth and so did Avril. I knew that it was up to me to push through this barrier now. It was my statement that would make it easier for both of them to speak their own truths.
“I love your wife,” I said simply, “I don't know why and I don't know how but I know that I love her. I want to be with her not solely out of physical desire but out of need as well. I need her to be a part of my life, and if she wasn't with you I wouldn't hesitate to commit to her fully in whatever way that means.”
I looked at Jeremy when I said that, looked at him and said my peace and then waited holding my breath because I didn't want to hear her response instead. I didn't want her truth to be anything less than mine.
And Jeremy was true, I didn't know her and I didn't know him. None of us knew each other, and each of us had to have the courage to speak truth without knowing the end of it. Each of us had to be willing to put our truth out there even if it meant being denied.
“I think I love him too,” she said quietly, “In a way that's different than it is with you. In a way that is different but no less powerful and intense. I love both of you, and it kills me to have to say that.”
“Don't,” he said quickly, “Don't deny your truth. Don't deny your desires. Don't deny anything that you are feeling because if you do it would make you less yourself, and I love who you are.”
Jeremy took a deep breath and pressed on.
“I want to do what makes us all happy,” he said, “I want us all to live full lives, even if those lives are unconventional. I want you to love each other, but I want you to make room for me as well.”
There was a silence then, as we all chewed on the words he had spoken and tried to see through it to the truth that remained unspoken. But with all that he had said I knew we would be doing a disservice to ourselves if we left that truth implied.
“Are you saying that you want us to continue?” I asked, “To keep seeing each other?”
“I am,” he said quietly, holding all of our attention, “I'm saying that I want us to keep on the path that we started. I want you two to see each other and I want to be a part of it. I don't want any of us to hide what we want from each other anymore. I want us to be open in our desires.”
He continued, “I need you to be a part of my life, both of you. I need you to be with each other to make me feel complete, and I think you need it too.
“Our lives will be unconventional and many people will never understand but I think in the end we will be happier together than we ever could be in any other way. I think that only when we all embrace each other completely and accept the truth that we all love each other in our own special way that we will feel complete.”
We were waiting for what to say next. We were searching for the words to say to tell the truth that we held in our hearts.
“I want it too,” Avril said quietly, “I want you Jeremy and I want you Bruce and I want the three of us together.”
Jeremy spoke next, “I want it. I want to be myself finally. To be honest with myself and with you both. I want to explore the feelings and desires I have inside of me without fear of judgment, and I trust that you two are the people I want to do this with.”
They turned to look at me, leaving the final word on my lips. As if there was even a question of how I could respond. As if there was even a question of what I could say.
“I want it,” I told them, “I want to be a part of her life and I... I never wanted to come between t
he two of you. I never wanted to break up what you have because I always believed that it was something special. So I'll be a part of your life, both of you. I'll be whatever you need me to be so long as I can be it with you, and so long as it makes you happy.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
AVRIL
Words cannot express the relief in my heart, the feeling of warmth that came from knowing that all was not lost. I had fretted and worried and lost myself for a time there thinking that I had lost him, thinking that what I had done had caused me to turn my back on the life that I lived with the man that I loved.
But this was a chance, an opportunity. This was Jeremy telling me that I could have the fondest wishes of my hearts desire if only I would take a shot at it. If I could say yes to exploring something unconventional.
The real question was how could I say no?
I ran to Jeremy, falling into him and letting his arms wrap me up. I ran into him and felt him again, not the man who had been a stranger this last while but the man that I had been in love with for so very long. The man who meant everything to me. The man that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.
This man wasn't strong in a conventional way, but he was powerful and he made me feel powerful for being a partner to him. He was kind and he was attentive and he cared for me deeply, seeing all of me and loving every bit. Even the parts that were flawed.
I kissed him and I felt him respond to me. I felt his body moving against me and I felt him holding me tight. I kissed him and I felt like I was home, like I'd come back to myself finally and at last.
Pulling back I pressed my forehead against his, both of us breathing hard and trying to keep from crying. They were tears of joy, tears of happiness as we celebrated the knowledge that we were going to make it through this and come out the other side stronger.
“I love you,” I told him, “With all of my heart.”
“I love you too,” he replied, “I always have and I always will.”
It was strange to say but confessing it didn't feel odd to me, saying that in front of Bruce. I'd never been one for public displays of affection but this didn't feel public. This didn't feel like performing in front of a stranger. Bruce didn't feel separate from us in that moment, he felt like a part of us.
