Twisted Knot

Baggage

We stopped and bought some donuts on the way home. In public, we seemed like a happy, smiling, typical couple. Not the kind of couple who had been inches from divorce, or who had been involved in multiple affairs. And Stefan didn't look like a man who was about to check into rehab. It was too easy to pretend, to easy to smile. I wondered if anyone was ever as they seemed, or if we all have public faces. I thought of Paul. I'd called him honest Paul before, because he didn't really bullshit with you. But then again, he'd been in love with for months. He'd also forgotten to tell me about Stefan's alcoholism. Maybe he did know, maybe he didn't think it was his place to tell me.

Or maybe Paul had decided not to tell me the whole truth, hoping I'd leave Stefan and ask questions later. Maybe for some women knowing their husband cheating because they were an addict was a deal breaker, but it was different for me. It was as though I saw Stefan again, and saw his pain. I wanted us both to be happy again; nothing else mattered. And Paul, I couldn't think about him. I needed to be strong to help Stefan get well again.

We went home and I started folding clothes and Stefan was making phone calls to the rehab facility, discussing the rules and requirements. After he got off the phone, he came in and stood in the doorway, smiling.

"Everything all ready to go?" I asked. He smiled.

"I'm terrified," he said. "I haven't been to rehab in a long time."

"When was the last time?" I asked. His eyes got cloudy and I felt like I had intruded somehow.

"Right before I met you, when I was in Minneapolis," he said. "The day I met you on the plane, I had been sober for months. I was so excited and proud, I felt like I had my life back. And you were there, looking fresh and perfect. Elizabeth, the day I met you I decided I wanted to be happy again. You made that wish a reality."

I felt a tear trickle down, like he had rewritten our entire love story. Our whole life had new meaning. It was better somehow, but also worse.

"So you went to rehab, got better, and met me," I said. "So what changed? What happened that made go off the deep end of booze, women, and lies?" It was harsh, but I needed to know. He sat down on the bed and glanced at me, his eyes deep with regret. I was almost certain I knew the answer, but I needed clarity.

"It was because of Amy," he said quietly. "I drank because of Amy."

Amy was our daughter; Three years ago I gave birth to her after carrying her to term. She had been a still born, and we had never really spoken about it since the funeral. I had cried for months, but Stefan seemed distant and alm throughout the entire year after Amy died. He'd work a lot, gone for long trips, and spent lots of hours in his office. I had always assumed he preferred to grieve alone, but now I knew better. He had dealt with her death by drinking, and then later by cheating.

"Stefan," I said. "I thought you were relieved, because I knew you never wanted another baby. I should have been there for you, I had no idea it hit you so hard."

"No, I am sorry," Stefan said. "You were hurting and I was off drowning my sorrows in gin and vodka. I felt pain, but it's no excuse. But I am going to be better, for you and for Jeremy."

"I should go today," I said. "I haven't visited Amy's gave in a while. I should go..."

"No one should ever have to...ever have to bury a baby." I looked up at Stefan.

"No, but we're not alone," I said. "Life is hard, but I'm here Stefan. I love you. I forgive you, for everything. I know I said it earlier, but I really mean it now." he smiled and I zipped up his suitcase, which was almost full.

"I packed your razors," I said. " I hope that is alright."

"I think so," he said.

We talked some more about he logistics of his leaving and when I could drive down to visit him. The first thirty six hours were a no contact time, because most patients had severe withdrawals. Stefan had been shaking all morning, and he seemed like he was in pain.

I walked over to him and put my hands on his shoulders, rubbing gently as he asked back into me.

"I'm going to miss you," I said. "But I'm proud of you, and I'm happy. I wish I could go with you." He just chuckled.

"You take care of me enough," Stefan said. "It will be like a vacation for you."

"Remember our honeymoon," I said. "That little house in Italy."

"Yeah, we went to this exotic country, and we barely left the bedroom." Hos eyes were telling.

"Stefan," I said, walking in front of him and looking into his eyes. " We have about an hour before you need to leave."

"Yes we do," he said, his face coming closer to mine. I put my hands around his neck.

"I know we've both...made some bad choices lately. And it's weird because we were with...other people." I was wavering, but he didn't flinch at my words.

"But Stefan, I am going to miss you and..." my voice trailed off.

"Don't get shy now beautiful," Stefan said. "Tell me,what do you want?" I wrapped my legs around him and took a deep breath.

"Make me forget everything except for how I feel about us, right now," I said. "Make me remember those nights in Italy." Stefan's lips found mine and we kissed so gently.

"Male love to me Stefan," I said. He picked me up and carried me onto the bed, practically tearing my clothes off.

"You don't have to ask me twice, Mrs. Templeton," he said.

That moment as our bodies tangled together, naked and connected, Something as different. It all felt new again, and there was no shortage of kisses and caresses. I was more than sex, it as a pledge to each other. And after words, as I once again laid my head on his strong, wide chest, I remembered a million other times we'd been there.

"So, how do I compare to Davis?" Stefan whispered. I slapped him, smirking a bit.

"I didn't actually go "all the way" with your friend," I said. "But you're not allowed to ask me that. Not unless you want me to ask about your adventures..."

"I'm good," he quickly replied. "But after all these years, it's still that good, right?"

"Yes," I said. But even as his words rang true, a small part of me, deep down, wondered if things how things with Paul would be different. I pushed the thought away, afraid of the fact that as I was in bed with my husband I could fantasize about another man.

I was still all twisted up inside. And I knew the reason I had so easily forgiven Stefan was because iwas guiltiest. He'd had multiple affairs, and lied, and led a secret life. But I had, in one night, managed to fall in love with another man. I loved them both, and that was so much worse any other crime.