With or Without Michelle - Story with Choices

I know this is long...but I am testing this story to see if it merits being published or at least used to help pique the interest of men and women who may need help with their marriage.  

Mission of the Story:
I want it to be readable, interesting, and hard-hitting without being "preachy".  

If it works well, I want to help folks know where to send friends for help if they ask what to do about improving their marriage.

One friend read it and passed it along to an acquaintance who was having marriage problems.  

If you take the time to read it, would you also take a few minutes to tell me whether the mission was accomplished?  I am a big boy.  I can take it...good or bad.  OK?

With or Without Michelle

        You would have thought we’d planned for this to happen.   I mean it happened like clockwork.  Nobody in their right mind would want something like this.  The pain, the pressure, and the frustration were almost unbearable.  Michelle and I had been married about 16 years when it all “hit the fan”. 

Sorry, I forgot to introduce myself.  My name is Jesse James Landis.  Yes, I was named after the outlaw Jesse James.  My dad loved the old West, and was particularly well-versed on the life and times of, you guessed it, ….Jesse James.   I’m 42, graduate of Central High School and got my MBA at 29 from Loyola.  I have been working steadily in a start-up company,  that took off like a rocket.  You may have heard of my, well, our company – S-energy Sales Inc.  No?  Well you will.  Since SSI went public, our staff is too small and our client base is big, getting bigger - even in the “worst economy since the great depression”.  But I am not really supposed to be talking about my career; I am here to tell you about my marriage…two totally unrelated subjects.                                      

 Maybe that is not quite true.

I was told it wouldn’t work, but what did my brother know about marriage and love?  After all, his track record wasn’t so hot.  Two divorces and three children split up between his house, her house, or their houses.  I wasn’t about to take his advice.  He was a part of the chorus of voices telling me to “get pre-marital help” and “make sure you learn to communicate well” and “don’t forget to check out her relationship with her family”. 

All those things sounded very judgmental and, besides, we loved each other so much and had such a great time together – like we were meant for each other.  Not only that but the sex was great too.  I was warned about that too, but my folks are pretty old-fashioned.  They didn’t have such a great relationship either; and I don’t think they had sex before marriage.  I figured going without sex before marriage hadn’t helped them all that much, so why should I bother to wait. 

Michelle and married in “a fever hotter than a pepper sprout”  - and things were awesome for a while.  We were friends and lovers.  We figured we were doing well at both roles.   We went to church a few times a year at first then that stopped.  We simply didn’t see the point. 

After a few years the newness of marriage began to fade.  I noticed things were beginning to unravel; Michelle was starting to lose it.  She became moody...mostly bad moods.  She seemed angry much of the time, and I couldn’t seem to please her no matter how hard I tried. 

She had no idea what pressures I was experiencing at work - trying to keep up, keep my job, keep everyone from the big boss to the smallest customer happy,  and to have some time for her, for our two kids, and even a little for myself.  Rather than face the fury, I began to work longer hours to have one place where I felt successful. 

And I was successful!  Three promotions in 5 years, six-figures and moving up, great benefits, vacations, ..the works.  You would have thought she’d be thrilled with that, but for whatever reason, she wasn’t.  I managed to hold it together for the first ten years, but six years ago I started not caring anymore.  I had it up to here with her unhappiness, her dissatisfaction with me and my work schedule, and her frustration about not being able to have as much, go away as often, or do all the things – expensive things - that our friends did.  I might be exaggerating this stuff, but at the time all I seemed to hear were her reminders that I wasn’t enough and that I would never be enough.  She wasn't the first person to make me feel that way about myself.  I just couldn’t keep it up!

I tried to explain, but she’d always cut me off at the knees.  Although I was making more, our financial situation got worse.  The more I made – the more she spent.  The more she spent – the harder I worked.  The harder I worked – the more she griped about my working too much.  It made perfect sense to me that we needed a time-out, or at least, she needed a time-out.   Since adults don’t get to put other adults in time-out, time away became my way of keeping peace.

I owe, I owe, so off to work I’d go.  That kept me going, and I went there gladly most days.  Michelle was more than I could handle and becoming more than I could stand to be around.

It hit me one day that our friendship was dying and sex was becoming less frequent and much less exciting.  It makes sense now –didn’t see it then - because as much resentment as we carried for each other, it was hard to be romantic and resentful at the same time.  Oh, I don’t mean to say we stopped having sex altogether, but that was just it.  Sex was something we “had” but didn’t enjoy, at least not as much as we had when we first got together.  I remembered those times and it was incredible, especially after a few drinks.  She was ready and I was readier!  Thinking about how it used to be made “how it had become” even more disappointing.  So I stayed up doing "work” late enough that Michelle went to sleep most nights without me.  She probably didn’t mind all that much.  I realize now how alone she must have felt.

I tried to find something to watch to distract myself, and usually I could find either a movie on TV, download one, or pop in a DVD and enjoy that huge screen and killer sound system…by myself. 

I almost forgot to mention the kids.  Really makes me sad to think how much I forgot about the kids…then.  They really got caught in the middle of this free-fall.  Between the job and Michelle, I had little time or energy left for them so, although I made it to most of their recitals and games, I really wasn’t “there”.  My head was back at work or trying to make sure I didn’t get cross-wise with Michelle.  I saw some signs that the kids were slipping away, but I was way too occupied to get involved.  That was Michelle’s job to fix that problem.  She certainly had more time with them than I did.  Her little job was only part-time, after all; mine was way more than full time and getting “fuller”.  Truth is I don't think I knew how to succeed as a Dad and I didn't want or need a reminder.  What were my kids, after all, but reminders that I was a failure as a father.

My late night TV time turned into later nights spending time trying to find some shows that had at least a little “skin” since I wasn’t seeing any real skin much any more.  I figured I could actually get some pay-per-view movies that were “fulfilling” without Michelle’s knowing about it because she or I paid most of the bills online without looking into the statements much.  A few extra dollars would go unnoticed.

 I didn’t realize how easy it was to find some pretty raunchy stuff.  When a few months past and she never noticed the extra movie charges, I upgraded the package to get some of the channels so it was even easier to find the views I wanted.  Of course, there was always the internet. 

Man, it is amazing how this stuff sneaks up on you, isn’t it?  I rarely went to bed with M, except when I knew it was a “good night” and the chances of actually scoring were pretty high.  I could read the signs.  I think she was actually trying to recapture what we had; but I wasn’t nearly as interested as before.  She wasn’t either because those “good nights” became fewer and further between.

Then, Chloe happened.  Chloe Bradford came to work for SSI in an admin role, and she looked a lot like Michelle did …about 10 or 15 years ago.  I had begun to noticed how much Michelle had changed after two kids and a decade of marriage, until her younger twin showed up in a cubicle outside my office door.  Chloe was a breath of fresh air…funny, bright-eyed, interested, and well…nicely put together.  She even laughed at my jokes.  I couldn’t remember when Michelle laughed at my jokes.  She thought my humor was too crude.  But not Chloe...  She listened and seemed to hang on every word I said.  It was as if I’d found the woman that I had fantasized about…it was the woman I had hoped Michelle would be.

Chloe and I worked a few projects together at the office then went with a sales team on some business trips.  Before long we were talking late, going to dinner or getting a few drinks before calling it a day or a night. 

The big project our team was assigned in New York City was the golden opportunity that came to us last fall.   It was the catalyst for taking our casual, flirty relationship to the next level.  That 4-day weekend found us alone together most of the time, and we didn’t waste time.  After our SSI team finished preparation for the next day’s presentation, it just sorta’ happened.  The team had gone out for dinner and drinks.   Afterward, when we came back to the hotel, we knew it was our time.  Her look told me enough to convince me that it was safe to ask.  I did ask, and the answer took all night to tell.

 After that long weekend, we spent as much time together as we could.  Not only was our time together a thrill, but so was our time apart.  We talked regularly plotting and planning our next “project” to justify long hours "at the office".  Of course it wasn’t really an SSI project at all and we weren’t at the office.  The only accurate part of the stories we contrived was the “long hours” part. 

 Within a few months we were making plans to leave our spouses and finally be happy together in a relationship where hiding and lying were no longer necessary.  Finally, we’d be free.

Things were moving fast, and Michelle was clueless.  She had buried her head into the kids’ school functions, sports, and dance, while trying to keep up with her growing responsibilities at work.  She was distracted and disinterested.  Sundays were usually pretty laid back at our house, but lately I noticed Michelle would take the kids and be gone most of the morning.  She’d started going to church.  I couldn’t imagine giving up sleeping in, reading online news on my iPad, and casually drinking coffee for getting up early, getting herself and the kids dressed, then going to sit for hours listening to someone who just wants to make everyone feel awful.  Sorry, but I had been there and done that.  Besides, I don’t think church folks would have approved of my plans.  My feelings had locked like a laser on Chloe and our future together.  I was livin’ the life ..or two lives, I guess would be more accurate.

Even when the kids needed me for some homework help, I could hardly focus on what they needed.  My mind and heart were elsewhere.  Or on the increasingly rare occasions that I actually attended one of their events, I’d notice other couples –parents of our kids’ friends.  I’d wonder what was going on with them and imagine that they were just as unhappy as I.  My guess was that they were either locked into a failing marriage, trying to be faithful while miserable or doing something on the side.  Guess I was trying to justify my leaving by imagining others were doing the same thing.  I actually did know a couple of men and women who went to Michelle’s church, who left their spouse and kids for a more exciting life with another lover.  One guy even left his wife for another man.  At least I wasn’t going that far!

But one couple kept showing up at these events.  They looked at each other differently than most; they talked to each other rather than spending all their time with friends.  She seemed to adore him; and he, her.  Strangely, that is how I had once wished Michelle would look at me.  That wasn’t going to happen now.  But I no longer needed Michelle to look at me that way; Chloe did….when no one was around to notice or when she could sneak a glance during a meeting at work.  I can’t imagine anyone noticing anything about Chloe and me that was outside office policy.

Chloe and I planned to go public at the end of the school year, you know, to make it easier on our kids.  Neither of us cared much about the impact of this news on our spouses, as you can imagine.  About a week before the big day, the strangest thing happened.  I got very dizzy driving home from work and discovered that I could not keep my car in my lane.  Before I hit someone, I pulled over and instinctively called Chloe, then had to stop that call so I could call Michelle.  After describing what was going on and answering a few questions about my location, I heard sirens and just before blacking out completely, felt myself suspended in space traveling in what felt like a horizontal position, first on a moving table and then in the back of an ambulance.  I moved in and out of consciousness during the ride, but remembered nothing about hospitals, ER’s, or surgery. 

Four days later I came back from wherever I had been to find that I had been in the hospital for those 4 days, had been taken to the ER on Monday, had brain surgery on Tuesday, was kept in a chemically-induced coma for 2 days and was just revived within the past few hours.  The fast-growing tumor in my brain, though benign, was large enough to create problems and had to be removed immediately or permanent damage was likely.

My first image was of Chloe but as my vision cleared, I realized that my speech was not as quick to return, so I didn’t say her name audibly.  It wasn’t Chloe gazing caringly at me. It was Michelle.  Over the next 10 days, my recovery moved along rapidly, and Michell was my constant companion.  I didn’t find out until later than Chloe, who had no knowledge of what had happened to me on the way home that Monday, had called my phone Tuesday and Wednesday during work hours.  She had been doing that for the past few months with no apparent reason to stop. 

The word finally got back to the office of my hospitalization and the calls stopped.  Chloe had to be content to hear dribbles of information and misinformation through office channels.  Finally she got the courage to call Michelle at the house to get a first hand report “so she could tell all the office staff exactly how I was doing and about the prognosis.”

Chloe confirmed with her call to Michelle what Michelle had suspected.  While I was unconscious and out of touch with work for four days, Michelle innocently checked my phone for missed calls and saw the call history from the last several days.  Chloe’s number showed up much more often than anyone's, even Michelle's.  Michelle then went online to see our last few months’ phone bills.  There in full display was the growing relationship with a woman named Chloe.  I was so sure Michelle would never look; and, even if she did, she’d never know that the Chloe Bradford listed in my contacts was much more than just another business associate.  Bottom line is that I didn’t think Michelle would really care.  Why should she?  Our love was dead.

Elizabeth Michelle (Garland) Landis, is a classy lady with a kind soul and a deeply caring heart, unless you crush it and then abandon it, as I was doing.  Even in her pain from my obvious betrayal, she didn’t say a word or even hint that she knew.  Oh, she knew more than I could have imagined.  She had some long-term friends, who worked with SSI from the beginning and were still there.  After finding Chloe’s name so frequently showing up in my call history, Michelle began to make some subtle inquiries. 

One lady, Sallee Emerson, who'd been with SSI from the beginning, got a call from Michelle during my recovery.  Michelle asked if Sallee knew a woman named Chloe Bradford, who worked for SSI.  I discovered later, when all the stuff hit the fan, that Sallee actually started crying at the question.  She told Michelle that she’d almost called several times but didn’t know if it was any of her business.  Though Sallee had seen nothing all that inappropriate at work, she knew from office scuttle-butt that Chloe and I were seeing each other on the side. 

As I said, Michelle is classy and not volatile.  My lying helplessly at the hospital and now at home along with my desperate need of her for the last few weeks had caused her to soften toward me.  She waited for 3 weeks into my recovery after my leaving the hospital.  She hadn’t tracked my calls or read my emails.  She knew all she needed to know to bring her case and the damning information to me at an appropriate time.

But let me tell you something.  Michelle served me, cared for me, actually smiled at me and invested in me.  I didn’t expect it and certainly didn’t deserve it.  Knowing now that Michell knew about Chloe makes it that much harder for me to understand, except for one thing – Michelle loved me, or I should say “loves me”.  Even now.  She does.

We had our talk one night after the kids went to bed.  It wasn’t loud but it was emotional, at least for her.  I was still set on leaving.

Choose the ending for yourself:

Choice #1: 

Jesse's Come to Jesus Meeting

I left the house immediately after Michelle and I finished our conversation.  It really never became an argument.  I almost wish it had.  What I was doing needed some justification at that moment and a good old-fashioned knock-down, drag-out would have been all the fuel I needed to propel me out the door and into Chloe’s waiting arms.  But it wasn’t like that.  Our final confrontation wasn’t like that, at all.

Not only was it not a confrontation; it wasn’t even final.  Really it was simply a sad talk about what went wrong, who would suffer, what steps needed to be taken and by whom.  No launch-worthy emotions stirred in her or in me, so my parting was slow, deliberate, and much harder than I had expected.  I think maybe it is like when my Grandpa Landis died back when I was a teenager.  We knew his death was imminent, and my parents and I had talked about his passing.  But when we were in that hospital room at the exact moment of his final breath, it was hard because it was final and all hope of healing was lost with that final exhale of life.  It was over; we were shocked by our response.  I cried, and my Dad wailed in a way I didn't know he could.

The final confrontation of my marriage shocked me, but not with some flood of feeling but with the lack of it.  In some ways it was worse than death because I knew now that I would have to face Michelle and our kids, Janie, and Jesse, Jr, over and over again, unless I totally checked out of their lives.  But I knew then and there that was not going to happen.  I was leaving Michelle but not the kids.  That was what I told myself.

Something stirred in me as I walked out the door.  A feeling I had not felt for Michelle for a long time.  Her expression of sadness was burned into me.  I made the mistake of looking deeply into her eyes as we had our final words, and that is when I saw it.  I had relegated her to a mean, disinterested, cold, unlovable woman.  Her eyes told me she was the person who loved me once, and I felt something come over me.  I repressed the emotion masterfully until I was in the doorway, headed out.

Though she was the mother of our children, she certainly had lost all humanity in my view.  All I came to feel was the hurt and rejection she’d unfairly served up to me for these last several years.  I had my case made, my mind made up, my Chloe waiting, and now “the talk” had been completed, but I hadn’t looked at Michelle, really looked at her for a long time…perhaps months or even years. 

I turned quickly away to try to refocus and get that image of her eyes out of my head.  The car roared to life and I was on my way west on Simms Avenue, my street, for the last time as the resident of 5445 Simms Avenue.  My heart was thrilled to start again, but sad that I had to be the bad guy.  Why didn’t she have the affair so I could use that as my ticket to start again?  But that’s not Michelle and never had been. 

I reached the parking garage of Chloe’s apartment building, switched off the key, and sat with the lingering image of Michelle’s eyes.  They were tired, sad, but familiar and kind.  After all hadn’t she been at the hospital every day and night?  Hadn’t she cared for me?  Of course she had.  She’s my wife….was my wife.  No, she still IS my wife.  Chloe hadn’t come to the hospital, but of course she couldn’t come.  She was my affair, my lover. 

That reminds me.  Michelle didn’t even bring Chloe into the picture until near the end of our conversation.  And even then it was only to tell me she knew about Chloe from her journey into my phone.  She wasn’t even looking for another woman, but she was trying to make sure I didn’t lose clients by missing calls for those days in the hospital.  That was it.  That’s when her eyes turned deeply sad and teary.  I thought she would go ballistic because that would have been her default response just a few months before. 

She did say that she’d found God or something.  Whatever that means, and I had noticed a difference, but it was way too late and my feelings for Chloe were way too deep for “church” to stop this train from leaving the station and going to its final destination…Chloe’s arms.  Oh, yeah, I guess I’d better go on up, but there’s just one more thing.  I had almost forgotten. 

That couple who stood out in the crowd as two people who seemed not only to love but also to like each other, they came by to bring some meals and my favorite brand of coffee.  They actually attended M’s church. And that preacher that came to the hospital and prayed for me most of the days I was in recovery.  He even dropped by the house.  I had dismissed the couple and him.  Oh, he was nice enough and not pushy as I figured most preachers would be.  He asked questions, showed interest, even asked if he could pray for me.  I told him, “Sure, can’t hurt, right?”  I figured prayer was like chicken soup.

Michelle said he was a good speaker and had asked me to go to church with her and the kids a few weeks before my surgery.  I told her I’d think about it, but I couldn’t go to church, could I?  I am having an affair.  I might be a sinner but at least I am an honest sinner.  Is there such a thing as an honest sinner?  You know what I mean.  I was not about to be a hypocrite.  At least, I was not a hypocrite.

That won’t hold up.  Sure, I AM a hypocrite and have been for a long time.  Married but sleeping with another woman…. Does that fit the definition of hypocrite?  Yeah, it does.  Then there’s J J (Jesse Junior) and Janie.  They don’t deserve a hypocrite for a father.  So I am making the right decision by leaving.  Now Chloe and I can move on.  Michelle can move on, J J can move on, and Janie can…can ….. move on …without her Dad, without me. 

How long have I been sitting down here?  Gotta’ turn the air back on if I am going to sit here much longer.  I’ll just start the car and sit here in the quiet while I gather my thoughts before going up to the woman who is the answer to my prayers.  Well that’s not true.  I haven’t asked God for her.  He probably isn’t pleased with me at all.  He’d probably rather I go home, stay with my family. 

I can’t.  Not now, I just can’t.

What am I doing?  If I get out of this car and go up the elevator to Chloe’s apartment, everything changes.  Everything changes for keeps.  Sixteen years and three people get flushed.  More than three really; Chloe’s husband and their kid.  Now we’re up to five.  My Mom, M’s folks, my brother and two sisters, her three brothers bring the number to … ,to…  What difference does it make?  This is about Chloe and me, isn’t it?  No, not really.  This is ridiculous!  What am I doing?

That preacher said that if he could ever be of service to me that I should just call.  What’s that church?  I wonder if preachers answer the phone at 11 at night?  What am I saying?  I know what I am saying.  I am going home if Michelle will have me.  I have not done many principled things in my life, but this may be the biggest.  I wonder if Michelle is still up?  I’ll call her and see.…

“Michelle, I didn’t know if you’d answer the phone, but would you let me come back home?  I need to tell you what is going on in my head.  I have never been willing to see if there are other ways to fix our marriage.  I thought I could do it myself and then I just gave up trying.  Nothing I can say will make up for what I have done and was about to do to you and our kids, but if you’ll help me, I’d like to go to that church, the…..New Life Community Church and talk to the preacher alone, at least at first, then together if you will. “ 

“You will, that’s great. I can hardly understand what you are saying.  I am sorry to make you cry."

“Maybe I need to have one of those ‘come to Jesus’ moments.”

“What did you say?” 

“You think I already had one.  Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re right.”

“I’ll be at the house in less than a minute.  You’ll do what? OK, I see it now.  The porch light is on and I can see you standing in the door.  Thanks, Michelle.  We can finish this conversation face to face …for the rest of our lives.  I almost forgot I loved you, but now I remember.  I am so sorry I forgot.”

 Choice 2:

Michelle’s Letter

We had our talk one night after the kids went to bed.  It wasn’t loud but it was emotional, at least for her.  I was still set on leaving.  As our “end all conversation” was coming to an end, Michelle asked if I would wait two minutes to read a letter she’d written.  I asked her if it would take long, that Chloe was waiting, and that Michell shouldn’t try to change my mind.

Michelle gave me the letter she’d written.  It was dated 4 years earlier.  Her letter was written about the time I was obviously giving up on her.  She’d finally noticed that I was pulling away from her and the marriage.  In the letter she stated, well, why don’t you just read it yourself?  Strange, isn’t it, how important it is to actually be able to say what you need to say to one another and do it in a kind way to get the truth out?  Why don’t we do that more often?  I don’t have time to settle that age-old dilemma now.  Here’s Michelle’s letter.  It isn’t that long.  Please take time to read it.

“Jesse, I know I should have told you long before now, but I thought by writing this on paper first, it would make the telling of it easier to do.  We’ll see. 

Just two years ago, about 10 years into our marriage, I met Seth at work.  He was so kind and treated me with such tenderness that I was drawn to be with him and actually went to his apartment a few times for talks and drinks.  That only lasted a time or two, but the third time I was there with him, we went to bed together.  I felt horrid and knew instantly that I had no business being there.  I dressed and left.  I never went back and actually asked to be moved to another office to get away from him.  He got transferred soon after so I didn’t have to move and didn’t have to explain to you why I wanted a transfer.  I did have lunch with him once more to apologize, ask for forgiveness, and let him know that I would not see him alone again….ever. 

I know I should have come to you immediately, but you seemed so distant and we weren’t communicating much or very effectively, anyway.  I figured this would destroy you and maybe end our marriage.  I am so ashamed and sorry for what I did.  Would you forgive me?  I want you to know I have done nothing even close to that since and vow never to do it again.  Will you forgive me for being unfaithful to you?

I sat there in utter disbelief and found myself getting angrier by the second.  How could she have done this to me and then have kept it from me for this long?  This means I have been sleeping with a woman and being intimate with a woman who has been unfaithful to me.  Who was this guy Seth?  What did he think he was doing and with my wife?  Then it hit me.  What was this rage that was about to spew all over Michelle?  She had known for weeks that I have been having an ongoing affair, and, yet, she'd been calm all through this conversation. 

Michelle told me she still loved me and that she didn’t judge me.  Then she said something that shocked me almost as much as the letter.  She told me that she had decided that if I left her for Chloe or any other woman, that she was going to focus on God and on loving me as she should have been doing all along.  She mentioned that neither of us had homes that helped us know what real love looked like.  At first I resented her throwing my parents “under the bus”, but she explained the good things they showed us, but that we had even said to each other that we wanted our marriage to be "more than we’d seen at either of our homes”. 

I had to admit that I remembered saying that to her, when we first started talking marriage or being together.  Her folks were kind and quiet, but they seemed to endure rather than enjoy each other.  They’d get Michelle caught in the middle of their dysfunction by talking to her in secret about what the other was doing wrong.  They never spoke to each other about their problems, or at least Michelle never heard them.  They just talked to her and hid their feelings from each other.

My folks were no “Cleaver family” either.  They would shout and argue then the next day act like nothing was wrong.  I actually think they considered their arguments as necessary to a good marriage.  They’d argue but not do any thing differently than before.  So the fights continued and got worse over time.  When I graduated high school, Dad took up with his secretary at the church.  Oh, yeah, my Dad was the pastor of the biggest church in our town.  That was a kick in the gut for many people, but I got over it and pretty much just wrote him and God off as unnecessary.  If Dad’s God wasn’t big enough to keep him from wrecking our family, then I had no use for a God that was that weak.  Besides, if God sanctioned the dysfunction of my folk’s marriage, He could keep away from me.  I didn’t need Him.

Now, the truth was out.  Michelle was weak and had failed to be faithful to me.  I was weak and had failed to be faithful to her.  I didn’t expected this wrinkle to show up in my plans to be with Chloe.  For some reason, I saw Michelle a little differently than when this conversation started.  Feelings rushed through my heart making me angry, then sad, then I pitied her, that turned into feelings of superiority, which immediately got replaced by inferiority, and I could not make them settle on just one emotion so I would know what to do with this trauma. 

All I could do was to pose a question to Michelle.  Why did she choose to bring out the letter when it was too late?  Her answer changed me.  Michelle said that over the last 6 months, she had seen God in a new light and that my stay in the hospital had confirmed for her that she still loved me.  Even the discovery of Chloe made her want to fight for the marriage, and it was not just for the kids though they certainly figured into the change in her.  She knew they needed parents, two parents.  They needed those parents to not just live under the same roof, but to love each other.  She said she wanted to stop fighting me and fight for me.

Her preacher down at New Life Community Church had taken the church through a DVD marriage training series on Sunday mornings about 3 or 4 months ago.  He showed what God intended for marriage.  God meant marriage to be a growing friendship where hearts connect in love, a deep spiritual connection where two people served and worshipped God, and a passionate physical intimacy that got more passionate not less passionate over the years together.  Michelle said that she prayed and admitted to God at the last DVD showing that she didn’t know how but was willing to discover how to do that with me.

She was trying to get up the nerve to come clean about her affair, her “sin”.  She called it a sin.  Her explanation was that God’s love is pure and powerful, but that adultery, homosexuality, and much of the cultural stuff that is acceptable to society is not to acceptable Him.  It isn’t that He hates people who do this stuff so much as He hates what they, or we, do because it is so far below the love He offers.  She lost me there, because I didn’t know God loved anybody but Himself.

Come to think of it, I had recently noticed changes in Michelle, but it was way too late.  Chloe and I were planning to move on with our new lives.  I was about to restate my case and get my things together to go to Chloe’s apartment, when the other shoe dropped.  The letter and her admission of guilt were causing my head to spin, then she told me what I never in a million years expected to hear. 

Michelle said that she’d prayed with the preacher over me while I was starting my recovery the day after surgery.  Get a load of what she prayed.  She said that she was going to love me and find out how to love me in a way that brought life back into our marriage, if God would spare me and let me live.  How about that?  So, wait a minute, she must have prayed that right before she discovered the news about Chloe and me.  So I asked her if she was still praying that prayer, knowing I was seeing another woman.  You know what she said?  She said, “Every day I am praying that prayer.” 

Well, that was a “kick in the teeth”.   

At that moment J.J (Jesse, Jr.). and Janie came into the room.  This was already getting tougher, and I had planned to come back over in the next day or two to tell them face-to-face that I was leaving their mother, but that I would always be their Dad – no matter what.  Now that I think of it, I hadn’t been their Dad for the last few years.  I was the bread-winner, the occasional tutor, but rarely their Dad.  J.J. asked if Mom had told me the news.  Did they know about the letter?  Of course, she wouldn’t tell them that and not tell me, would she?  That wasn’t it.  Janie gave Michelle that little look and tilted her head as if to say, “Come on, Mom, you have to tell him.”  Tell him

what?

Reluctantly Michelle said, "I am pregnant'.  She wasn’t going to tell me just to keep me at home.  She wanted me to stay because I wanted to stay and for love not for a new obligation. Stuff started to come together in my head and my heart:  Michelle knew I was being unfaithful; she still loved me; she was praying for me, and she'd even come to bed with me during my recovery as I was regaining strength.  We'd actually been intimate in bed a few times; apparently, enough times for her to conceive a baby. 

Why did I get so excited at this news?  I hid my unexpected happy feelings about this new baby, then worked hard internally to replace them.  I didn’t want more children, especially with Michelle.  In fact, Chloe and I had decided just recently that we’d not have any more kids.   We were going to be a couple with no kids or only occasional kids…every other weekend or something like that.  But I was genuinely happy inside and out of nowhere a great weight hit my heart that brought tears immediately.  What was this?

I still don’t know what to call it exactly, but I saw the brokenness of my family then the picture of my preacher-dad walking out the door leaving me and our family behind for that younger woman, who I still didn’t like even after all these years.  And, the picture of our family portrait came into view, as I was moving back to look at Michelle and to ask her something.  I wasn’t sure what.  But I saw it and my eyes locked onto the smiling faces.  I believe those smiles were genuine, as much as we could understand love then, we were still hoping for better than we now experienced.  And to top it all off, my mental snapshot of that portrait included another little boy looking at me from the frame, wondering if I would stick around to be his daddy. 

I lost it.  Begged my kids to come to me and let me just hold them a minute.  I looked at M and saw, really saw, the woman I had come to ignore over the last 6 years.  It was then I knew I was going nowhere.  Chloe was everything I thought I wanted, but it wasn’t what my family wanted or needed.  They needed me, and for the first time in a long time, maybe ever, I asked God to help me become the man He designed me to be.  If Michelle was going to fight for me, the least I could do was to fight to become a husband, that was worth fighting for

With help from God, Michelle, my kids, the preacher who offered to help, or from somebody somewhere, we were going to break the string of family failures and do what I thought was impossible.  We were going to love each other well, I was going to know my wife though I didn’t know how, at least not yet; and this new little boy (and it was a boy) was going to have a Dad, his real dad, in his life.  He wasn’t going to be reared by a new daddy or a Mom who was trying to be Momma and Daddy.  He was going to have me. 

I should say that he was going to have me if Michelle would forgive me and let me stay.  I thought I knew the answer based on the events and revelations of the evening, but I needed to start being a man of integrity right then.  I slipped to the floor from the chair and on my knees moved the few feet to get right in front of her.  It took me a few seconds, seemed like a longer, to get my composure so I could speak.  I hadn’t noticed until now that J.J. and Janie and come to either side of me and knelt beside their Daddy. 

I asked Michelle to forgive me and to help me get real with her, with our kids and with God.  I knew how to be a hypocrite.  I had forgotten, if I ever knew in my whole life, how to be a man of love and a man of real integrity. 

Michelle’s letter had caused me to pause just long enough for the truth of my next son to be revealed, and in the middle of it all God showed up to keep me from doing what I thought nothing could stop.  I called Chloe and told her the worst news she could imagine, but that conversation though incredibly awkward, was not the hardest conversation I had had that night.  The toughest one finished just before I called Chloe. 

When I admitted my wrong to Michelle and to my children then asked for their forgiveness, I received forgiveness and a welcome home from three of the four other people present at the time.  I never had to mention that period of failure to our son Jonathan until he was old enough to understand what it means to need and receive forgiveness. 

That night though still fresh in my mind was 43 years ago.  I am in my 80’s and Michelle passed last year.  Our kids are grown with great careers and grandkids aplenty, 10 to be exact. Elizabeth Michelle (Garland) Landis and I saw miracles in our families.  God restored relationships with our parents, many of our siblings came to know this God we serve, and perhaps most exciting of all, our three children and all ten grandchildren love each other, their families, and our Lord. 

We did it.  By God’s help we stopped the cycle of dysfunction in our family tree and passed a better legacy down the line than the one handed to us.  I think my preacher Dad would be honored if he were still here, and I know my Heavenly Father is pleased. 

Choice 3:

Chloe’s plea:

Most of the financial arrangements had been set in motion before my near-fatal hospital stay.  Now that the recovery period is over, I have made the final preparations for leaving.  Last week, unknown to Michelle, my attorney and I started putting divorce papers together.  Tonight before “the talk”, I was home for dinner with Michelle and the kids, and after dinner that evening told Michelle the news in the kindest way I could.  Immediately after “the talk” I left to meet Chloe at the apartment I had rented.  Everything went just as we’d planned. 

“Just as we’d planned” is probably not a very accurate statement.  The divorce was final in 6 months, Michelle continued to try and get me to go to counseling either at the church or with a counselor of my choosing.  I figured it was much too late for that. 

We settled everything using a mediator.  I told you Michelle was a classy woman.  Though she wept softly throughout the final mediation, she never begged me to stay or railed on me for being unfaithful.  I think she simply, silently slipped into the depression that held her captive for the next several years.

My kids, our kids, did finish high school and college, but the dysfunction I set in motion didn’t become apparent for several years.  J J, I mean Jesse James Jr., our oldest, was brave through it all.  He became the “man of the house” after I left.  I saw him as often as I could, but I know now it wasn’t enough to fill the hole I left in his soul the day I abandoned him, his mom, his little sister, and the little brother I'd conceived with Michelle during my recovery prior to my walking away. 

Janie was another story altogether.  She cried herself to sleep for weeks.  I tried to console her and help her to know what a wonderful “new mommy” Chloe would be, but the puzzle pieces didn’t fit to make a beautiful picture, since the puzzle pieces came from two very different puzzles. 

Michelle never remarried or at least not as of yesterday when I saw her at Janie’s wedding.  Janie didn’t want me to walk her down the aisle because I had broken her heart and our family.  Her big brother is to this day the one she says “has never abandoned me”.   I cried on the way home after holding it back at the reception.  At least, I was welcomed to attend the wedding and reception.

Why I didn’t see this coming is beyond me?  All the hell I went through, after my church-going daddy left us for his best friend’s wife, should have been enough pain to make me do whatever it took not to repeat the same steps.  But it wasn’t.  I swore I would never do that to my family even after a few years of marriage to Michelle that was less than stellar and becoming more miserable by the month.  We were doing OK.  I thought I could pull the marriage out of the fire on my own.  After all, that’s my job…fixing things, putting out fires, being the creative hard-working guy at work that get’s things done!

Guess you are wondering how Chloe is doing.  I can’t tell you.  She went to a new company after we married about 5 years ago.  It took her a few years, but she found a new romantic interest and left me for their top sales guy.  We lasted about 3 ½ years.  I have dated several women in the last year, but right now I’m not interested in marriage.  SSI, S-Energy Sales Inc., is doing well. I sold my share of the business to move Chloe to a bigger house.  Neither the house, the cars, the shopping junkets to New York City, or anything else I tried to keep her interest did any good. 

Sometimes I look back on what I had with Michelle and think what life would be if I had put as much energy and money into saving our marriage as I did in destroying it. 

Janie and her new husband are away on their honeymoon.

Michelle is alone in the little house she moved to after she lost our home in foreclosure a couple of years after I left.  She’s probably home alone.

I wonder what J.J. is doing this weekend.  At least he will still talk to me.  

People talk about "do overs", don't they?  Oh, God, I wish I had one now!  This bar, this drink, these people, this day, ...I am so alone.  What have I done?  I know now what I have done.