Talk of the Town

I drove home and cried my way through making the best dinner I knew how to make. It was also Dennis' favorite meal. When he came home from work, I begged him to sit down and eat dinner with me one last time, since he would be moving out the next day.

I was sure that it was the saddest day I'd had since I met him. We sat across from each other barely able to look into each other's faces and pushed a lot of food around on our plates.

"How are things with your baby?" he asked.

"It's OUR baby, Dennis," I spat.

"That remains to be proven," he said calmly. "But truthfully, I don't think it is."

"Have you given up engineering in favor of becoming a psychic?" I asked him.

"Maybe I always was," he said. It was the first time that I'd seen him smile in weeks. "I probably should have told you this before," he said. "But I always knew before you told me. When we were pregnant with Frank, I felt something. It was our first time, and I really thought that I was feeling something odd about you. But I knew something was different. When we were pregnant with Chels, I was the one who told you that you needed a test. I had the same feeling, and I knew what it was that time. I wasn't feeling anything odd about you, but I could feel my daughter."

"So you're telling me that you can tell that THIS baby isn't yours?" I asked.

"I never said that," he said. "I'm just telling you that I don't feel anything this time. It could be because you and I are no longer connected emotionally or ..."

"Dennis you're wrong," I cried. "I love you just as much as I ever did. I just made a mistake. I was a foolish old woman who just did a really dumb thing. But it didn't mean anything. And trust me, I am suffering for it. Most of my friends are no longer my friends. I guess I'm banned from the grocery store too."

"You and Brad will just have to shop somewhere else," he said. "Big deal, Sarah, don't bring him into my house anymore," he told me. "You can fuck him in a motel room ... Or his parent's house. I'm only letting you live here for Chelsea. If I hear that he's been in my hou ..."

"Dennis, Brad, and I have nothing to do with each other anymore," I sobbed. "He doesn't even admit to knowing me and he bad mouths me to all of his friends. He has them believing that I'm some crazy old friend of his mother's who won't leave him alone. But a lot of people around town know what's going on. I can tell that by people's reaction to me in the grocery store."

"Well once you guys get further into the pregnancy you'll be back together, and I'm sure that he'll be involved with his child," he said.

"Dennis, he says it's not his. He told me to get an abortion," I said. A look of anger flashed across his face and receded within the space of a heartbeat.

"You can't beat morality into him, Dennis," I said.

"His parents are good people," he said. "They'll make him do the right thing."

"Dennis, I want this baby to have the same life that Frankie and Chelsea had," I said.

"That's between you and Brad," he said.

"What if it's your baby?" I asked. "Why punish him because of something I did?"

"If it is my child, I'll do my best to be in his life," he said.

"Dennis, I mean everything. You have to swear it," I said. "A baby can begin to learn things while it's still in the womb. Do you remember how you used to talk to Chelsea before she was born? You spent hours rubbing my tummy and telling her how her life was going to be and how loved she was. You have to swear to be in this baby's life the same way."

"I swear if it's my child, I'll do anything you want until he or she is old enough to understand why things are the way they are," he said. I was happy with that because it meant that I would have him move back into the house until the baby was in his teens at least.

"But at the same time, I need you to swear something too," he said.

"I swear I will never cheat on you again," I said.

"Not that," he said. "You have to swear that if it's not my child you'll leave me alone and let me move on with my life."

"Dennis, I'm really sorry, but I can't promise you that," I told him. "If it was ten years from now, and you had moved on and married someone else; I would still go after you. If I had a sister, and you were married to her and even worse had kids with her ... I would still go after you. I'd be your wife, your side piece, your booty call, or anything else you wanted. I can't help it. I love you."

I was crying so hard I could barely speak. Something in him softened, and he took me in his arms.

"I love you too, Sarah," he said. "A part of me always will. A part of me will also wish very much that what you did had been a one-time thing. I'm not sure, but I think we might have survived it if it had only been once, but you did it repeatedly. You knew what you were doing. And you had to know that there'd be consequences."

I could barely comprehend what he was saying. It seemed like it had been forever since I'd been in my husband's arms. I was in heaven. I let out a contented sigh and squeeze him even tighter to me.

My nipples sprang to life, and my pussy was gushing. I hadn't worn a bra hoping for just the opportunity that was presenting itself. His arms started rubbing my back, and my knees got weak.

I felt his arms tighten to try to hold me up. His hands grabbed my ass cheeks. I pushed my boobs even further against his chest. I wanted him more at that moment than I had wanted anything in my life.

I needed him to fuck me. I needed him to show me that I was still desirable to him.

"Sarah, what are you doing?" he asked.

"Can't we just do it one last time?" I asked. "It doesn't have to mean that you want me back as much as I want it to. We can just be two healthy adults taking care of their urges. As a matter of fact, you know how horny I get when I'm pregnant. You can come over and fuck me whenever you want. I have never refused you Dennis. I won't start now. You can come over every day and every night. Whenever you want some pussy just come and get it. It doesn't have to mean anything. Just ..."

"That's the problem," he said. "Maybe that's why we don't belong together any more. Because to me, it WOULD mean something. Sarah, whenever I was with you, it was special every time. It ALWAYS means something. At least to me, it does. I'm not like you, Sarah. I can't have sex and share myself with someone just for kicks. It's just too personal. I loved you too much for that."

Suddenly, l realized that I had lost him. There was no hope for us, and what's more I knew then that I didn't deserve him. I had taken something pure and special and just ruined it. Even if the baby did turn out to be ours, things between Dennis, and I would never be the same. He would never trust me the same way again. Even the look in his eyes when he saw me changed.

My daughter hated me. She blamed me for her not being able to live with her father when, in fact, it had been the court that'd made the decision. While it was true that I wanted her in the house with me because I knew that Dennis couldn't stay away from her, the judge had made the call.

I also knew to the day when her brother found out what was going on. I knew because it was the first day in the two years that he'd been away at school that he not only didn't call me, he didn't return my calls or texts. I didn't hear from him at all since that day. I had destroyed my family and had nothing to show for it. Everything hung on my baby's DNA.

It was a lot of responsibility to place on the thin shoulders of a fetus. I smiled thinking about it because as much as Dennis wanted to be free of me, he never would. It seemed like I was gambling with my future and my family, but the odds were in my favor. Dennis had cum in me literally thousands of times over more than twenty years. Brad had me only ten or twelve times, and we used condoms. I still remember his disgust at having to take the used rubbers with him, because of my paranoia about Dennis finding them.

The chances of it being Brad's baby were remote. "Let me know when they have the DNA results," said Dennis as he turned towards the door.

"What," I asked. "Dennis they can't even do the test for another three weeks. What will I do until then?"

"Figure out what your next step is," he said. "Start getting ready to have your baby. Mend fences with Chelsea. Find your next man. I think they call it having a life.

Look, Sarah ... I'm going through the same thing. On one hand, the easiest thing in the world would be to wrap my arms around you and say," okay it never happened." I hurt so bad every time I think of you in my house ... Letting that asshole fuck my pussy. I wish it had never happened. I wish our family was still all together. I wish the hardest choice I had to make was where to go on our next vacation. But YOU did this to US. The rest of us never had a say in things. YOU did this, Sarah. So don't look to me for support. I'm still trying to get over my own pain from this.

I'm not even sure where I'll find the strength to help the kids deal with it. You're going to have to fix your own life this time."

Like I said before, I thought it was the worst moment of my life. But I was wrong.

The next three weeks were like a nightmare. I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned all night. I kept reaching for Dennis and wondering where he was, and then I'd remember and cry my eyes out.

I once made the mistake of going to my daughter Chelsea's room. I thought that maybe we were both feeling alone, and I really needed a hug.

Her reaction stunned me. She sat straight up in her bed, looking at me like I was crazy.

"Chels, we both miss your dad," I began.

"I don't miss him," she spat. "I just got off the phone with him. He picks me up after school every day, and I'm spending the weekend with him. Maybe if you hadn't chased him away you wouldn't miss him either."

"But Chels ..." I sobbed.

"Do you know how hard it is for me right now?" she asked. "What you did is what everyone in town is talking about. Half of them think that I'm going to be like you. Go back to your room mother."

On days when I was really depressed, I did things that I'm not really proud of. I called his phone and hung up when he answered. And I ... Okay I stalked him. After being together for over twenty years, I knew his goings and comings. So I drove to his job and watched him go into the building to work. I went back at lunch time and saw him go out to eat with several of his coworkers.

I got really angry when I noticed that one of the group was a woman. She was about my age and was even built like me. It would be the ultimate insult for Dennis to dump me and just roll out my fucking clone. If he liked me that God Damned much why not give the original another chance instead of settling for a poor copy?

I felt like shit when they returned. I'd been ready to confront them when I noticed that the woman was holding hands with and kissed one of the other men. I also noticed that Dennis wasn't paying her any attention. I drove home and told myself that I was just being silly.

A couple of hours later, I jumped up and ran to the window when I heard the sound of his Mustang's exhaust system. As usual, he'd picked Chelsea up from school. She hopped out of the car, hugged her dad, and headed into the house as he roared off. He hadn't so much as looked toward the house.

Every day I missed him more. It just seemed like everything I did reminded me of what I had lost. When I went into town, the reaction I got from people only served to remind me even more how they saw it. I already had to shop at a market in the next town. The punishment I received was definitely inversely proportionate to the pleasure I received from my mistake. And I suffered through it alone. I was the butt of all kinds of jokes, but Brad ... Except for Dennis beating his ass; he seemed to get off scot free. People simply laughed about it and patted him on the back.

He lost his pretty, young girlfriend, but she quickly rebounded and was already seeing another boy. And truthfully, Brad wasn't ready to settle down anyway. So from my point of view, I was the only one suffering for what had happened.

According to Chelsea, Dennis was miserable too. I just didn't understand why if we were both hurting, we couldn't help each other.

Three weeks later ... Three weeks during which I sank further and further into depression, the bottom fell out. I called Dennis on the phone.

"Dennis, hi, Honey, it's me," I said. "Are you surprised?"

"I'm only surprised that you actually stayed on the line long enough to say something instead of just hanging up as soon as you heard my voice," he said.

"I've never ..." I began.

"Sarah, before you lie to me AGAIN," he said. "You should remember that they have this wonderful thing called caller ID."

"Okay," I said. "I may have called you two or thirty times. But I have never lied to you."

"Sarah, this is all water under the bridge, but I seem to remember you claiming to love me. I also remember you promising to forsake all others or some other bullshit like that," he said.

"But Dennis," I sobbed.

"Why did you call Sarah?" he asked. His voice was no longer as angry as it had been the last time we spoke. It was as if he'd just accepted the fact that we were no longer together and was moving on from me. It made my heart hurt to know that he was trying to erase me from his heart like the wrong answer on a math test.

"Straight to the point, huh, Dennis," I said. "Just like we were strangers ... No polite greetings ... No how are you, Sarah ... Just straight to the point. It's like I was a salesman or a Jehovah's Witness."

"How are you, Sarah?" he asked. And in a testament to his character, there was no trace of sarcasm in his voice. It sounded as if he really wanted to know.

"I'm fucking miserable," I told him. "I'm a pariah. I'm the talk of the town. No one talks TO me. But everyone talks ABOUT me. I'm lonely, and this is the worst pregnancy ever. It's not fun having a baby alone. Whatever happened to you being with me? I remember you rubbing my tummy and talking to the baby. No one does that now. And your daughter clearly hates me. We both know that the only reason she's still on the house with me is because the courts ordered it."

I sighed. I blew out a breath and felt better. Just the act of telling someone what I was going through had made me feel better. It was funny that the only person who would listen to me was the person I'd hurt the most.

"How are you doing?" I asked, feeling guilty that I hadn't asked before.

"Not good," he said, "People won't leave me alone. They're all so busy trying to help me that they don't give me any time just to sit back and figure out where the hell I went wrong. And everyone seems to be trying to fix me up with someone. I never realized that there were this many women in town. Even some of your friends who never spoke to me are calling and asking me to go out. But I'll get over it. What do you need?"

"Uhm ... Tomorrow this all ends," I told him. Truthfully, I was so pissed at hearing that some of my supposed friends were hitting on my husband had me about to come unglued. "Tomorrow, I'll get the results of the DNA test, and maybe you can start taking care of me like you promised. So I will call you as soon as I leave the doctor's office and ..."

"Don't bother," he said. "I'm going to meet you there."

"I knew you'd want to be involved in our baby's life," I gushed happily.

"Sorry to rain on the parade," he said. "But the real reason I want to be there is that I just don't trust you enough to take your word for it. I know it sucks, but I'm being honest with you."

I nodded my head as a tear rolled down my cheek. It was a bitter pill to swallow. Dennis had told me before that he couldn't trust me, but this was more than words.

The next day we met up at my doctor's office. She was all smiles. She reached into her desk and pulled out a huge envelope. She put on her glasses and looked over the report.

Her smile was no longer present as she looked up at us. I felt my stomach lurch as if I was about to vomit.

"There's no easy way to say this," she said. "Sarah, Dennis isn't the father."

I really have to give Dennis credit. As I passed out he caught me and prevented me from hitting my head on the edge of the large hardwood desk we were sitting in front of.

When I regained consciousness, he was still holding me.

"You probably don't believe this," he said. "But I really am sorry, Sarah." He sat me up in the chair. The doctor gave me something to drink, and Dennis took my hand.

"I wish you all the luck in the world, Sarah," he said. "You're a great mother. You've been through this before. You'll do fine."

And then Dennis was gone. When he moved out of the house, it felt like someone had reached into my chest and yanked out my heart. That day it felt like someone had just dropped a chunk of cement into the still bleeding hole.

* * * * * *

Jaime

I didn't realize it on the day my life changed. It seemed like any other Saturday morning. My plans weren't chiseled in stone. They were more like penciled in on the cocktail napkin in my mind. I would wake up at 10 ... 11... Noo ... 1 o'clockish. And go out for a nice long walk in the nearby woods to get rid of all the stress I'd built up during the week. Hopefully, there would be no annoying calls from my mother or anyone else. All I wanted was a stress-free weekend of relaxation.

So why did I hear jarring and clanking and then a very loud vroooooom sound at the ungodly hour of 9 o'clock?

I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to get back to sleep, but the sounds persisted. I couldn't get back to sleep. It was as loud as if they were building a fucking road in my front yard.

I was angrier than even my mother could make me as the peace and quiet of my lazy weekend was destroyed. As I threw on a robe to cover my nakedness, I had one thought in mind. I wanted a chunk out of someone's ass. One of my stupid neighbors was about to get a dose of my anger.

I threw my door opened and stepped out onto my small front porch. There was a huge moving van parked in front of my house. There had to be at least eight men carrying furniture that looked brand new into the house next door to mine.

There were two or three smaller trucks from a furniture store, an electronics store, and one that I couldn't make out lined up down the street waiting to unload.

The men were all going about their business very efficiently. As I looked around my temperature rose. And then I spotted him. He drove up in a glass black Mustang GT. The car was very heavily customized. It was completed blacked out. Even the things on the car that would normally be black had been replaced with custom upgrades.

The normal black plastic honeycomb mesh grills had been replaced with metal bar billet grills that were so shiny that they had to have been the expensive anodized aluminum versions.

The rims were black chrome split spokes that had to be at least twenty inches in diameter. The tires glowed, shone, and looked either expensive or lovingly maintained. Even though the car, which I thought was a generation down from my own Mustang, looked much more aggressive and much newer.

But truthfully, I had simply neglected my car the way I neglected so many other things in my life.

"Breakfast, guys," he shouted enthusiastically. At once the drivers and loaders all ran over to the house and sat down on the stairs and porch to scarf up the offered free breakfast.

I almost laughed when I looked at what he called breakfast. There were several huge boxes of donuts, a couple of bags of McDonald's breakfast sandwiches. Then there were a couple of bottles of orange or Apple juice and a couple of cases of beer.