Page 54 of Marriage and the Midlife Crisis

“You have more gray hair than I do,” she sniped, pointing at my light brown hair that was more than liberally sprinkled with silver at the temples.

“I know,” I tried to soothe. “He suggested that I go see her, too.” I’d refused, horrified at the thought. Mitch got his roots touched up , along with highlights every three weeks, but that was my idea of hell on earth. It seemed there were limits to my midlife crisis after all. It’s too bad those limits hadn’t included my wife and sons.

My admission didn’t help, and Melanie crossed her arms over her chest, and her foot started tapping out a fast beat on the carpet as she stared straight ahead at the wall in front of us.

“Your friend sounds like he’s quite the manipulator, Ryan.”

“Ex-friend,” I corrected. “Officially, as of last night. I packed up his golf clubs and the other shit he had at our house and told him to come pick it all up, which he did. I also told him I’m selling my season tickets to the Colts and the Pacers. I dropped out of our golf league for next year, too.”

Melanie’s eyes widened in surprise, pausing her foot tapping to stare at me. I gave her a small smile.

“I told you that we got into it after the bullshit in Vegas. You can’t be that surprised.” I flexed my hand, which was feeling a little better now that the swelling was going down.

“I figured he’d weasel his way back into your good graces.”

“No way in hell, sweets. Not after what he did, and definitely not after what I know now. He’s out of my life, and he won’t be getting a second chance.”

“Melanie, how do you feel about that?” Kim asked, after Melanie hadn’t said anything for a full minute. Her arms were no longer crossed and her foot had stilled, so I hoped that we were no longer in danger of her exploding, although I couldn’t blame her if she did.

“I’d like to believe that you’ll stick with it, but so many times you’ve agreed to cut back on your time with him, but you were obviously just trying to placate me, because a few days later you’d be right back at it.”

”I’m done with him. Our friendship is over,” I insisted.

She just shrugged, and I started to get frustrated.

“Why is that so hard to believe, Mel?”

Kim cleared her throat, then pointed out that it’s not that cut and dried. “From what you’ve both said today, Ryan, you’ve gone back on your word more than once when it comes to Mitch, and if she feels that you’ve chosen him repeatedly, you’re going to need to show Melanie, and maybe even your sons, why this time will be different.”

She kept her expression and her tone neutral and encouraging, but I still felt that I’d been judged and found lacking, at least by my wife, if not by our therapist. The hell of it was, I was judging myself, so I couldn’t even fault them.

“Words alone aren’t enough. You have to give your words validity through your actions as well. Melanie will need to see consistent change over a sustained period of time to know that’s it’s going to stick this time.”

“I can do that,” I vowed, staring at Melanie so she could see the sincerity in my eyes. She held my gaze for a long moment before turning away.

“Now, both of you have mentioned the weekend in Las Vegas and it seems to have brought things to a head. Melanie, could you explain what happened?”

“It’s the stuff I told you about on Tuesday,” she told Kim, who nodded in understanding. “Ryan and I talked on Wednesday, and he explained everything.”

“And how do you feel after hearing his explanation?”

“I’m still hurt and angry, and I still have questions, but…I do believe that he didn’t cheat.”

Relief flooded through me at hearing her says those words, and for the first time in four long days, I felt as if I could breathe again.

“I do feel like he betrayed me though, not only by going to the strip club in the first place, but especially for not leaving right away. You broke your promise, Ryan. You knew how much it would hurt me, and you did it anyway. You chose to hurt me just so you could keep the peace with Mitch, and I don’t understand how you could do that.”

I was swamped by a wave of guilt at the sight of the tears in her eyes, and the sound of the pain in her voice.

“Why?” She asked raggedly.

“I wish I had an answer that made sense, but I don’t. I did it because I was a selfish asshole. Because I didn’t think you’d ever find out,” I admitted softly.

“Would you ever have told me? If I hadn’t found the evidence, the shirt and the thong…would you have come clean on your own?”

Hoping I wasn’t putting the final nail in my own coffin, I answered her honestly.

“No. By the time I got home, I’d decided not to tell you. Initially, I had every intention of telling you everything. I told Mitch that I felt too guilty to face you, and I would have to confess as soon as I saw you. He told me that it wasn’t fair of me to unburden my guilty conscience at your expense. He told me that I’d be hurting you in order to make myself feel better. He convinced me to keep my mouth shut. No, I allowed him to convince me,” I amended, knowing I had to take responsibility for my own choices. “Yes, Mitch talked me into it, but I didn’t have to listen to him. That was on me.”