1/5/09
So I've messed things up with Clarisse again.
Well not exactly, but it was a very close call. Everything had been going so well for us up until last night at dinner.
Clarisse said she had a craving for the seafood restaurant by the pier. So I called to make a reservation and although they were booked out, I told them who we were and they arranged a special table for us on the balcony overlooking the water so we could see the boats going by. Being famous has its perks...it also has its downside because everybody was staring at us from their tables ALL night long, which was quite disturbing.
The dinner started off well, we spoke of Mia and her achievements as we usually do, then conversation drifted to gardening, then some new Genovian sport involving a large pear-shaped ball and a bat resembling a frying pan. Then during the second course of our five course meal, a well-dressed little boy came over and tugged on Clarisse's skirt, asking her to autograph his napkin, which she did with great pleasure, then he stood still and looked at me with his bright blue eyes and said, "Mummy says you're a bad man."
I found this unusual and a little bit offensive, yet I remained calm and whispered, "Thankyou."
Then I looked over to a woman who was calling the boy back to the table -obviously his mother- and I realised she looked somewhat familiar. It took a few seconds to register, but when I realised it was somebody I had slept with several years ago, my heart started beating faster. Just what I need during a romantic dinner - an ex showing up. Couldn't for the life of me remember her name, but I do remember she had a tattoo of a black cat on her neck. My eyes drifted to the child, who was showing Clarisse his loose tooth, and I realised the kid looked a lot like myself. Warning sirens started going off in my head as I immediately considered that he might be mine. After all, it wouldn't be the first time I'd had a child with somebody and not known about it, nor the second time.
As I observed the boy's features, I tried to think exactly how long had it been since I was with his mother. Clarisse and I married about five years ago, together for about four or so years before that. Actually I think the last time I slept with someone that wasn't Clarisse (or Charlotte) was just before the new millenium. If he was any older than nine, I was in trouble. But I couldn't put an age on the kid, so before he went back to his seat, I asked him, "How old are you?"
"Seven next Tuesday."
I smiled to myself and completely ignored the kid after that.
Clarisse smiled at him, "Oh Happy Birthday."
The boy blushed and sat back in his seat, while I sighed with relief at there being no chance that he was mine. Although I did keep looking at him every few seconds afterwards, perhaps I was unconvinced he was telling the truth because he answered so quickly. I noticed Clarisse chewing her food slowly with her eyes focussed on me as I observed the child, she leaned over and in a low voice, asked, "What was that about?"
"What?" I couldn't blurt it out quick enough.
Clarisse put her fork down, "How old are you?" she quoted me sarcastically, "Why should his age be of any interest to you?"
I took a sip of wine to delay my response, "Just making conversation."
"No you weren't," she said, quite adamant to drag it out of me, "You were much too happy when he told you his age. And you neither responded to him, nor acknowledged his birthday."
It seemed I was caught between a rock and a hard place, I didn't want to tell her that I'd slept with the boy's mother because the idea of me being with someone else - even if it was ten years ago - has become a touchy subject and I wasn't sure how she would take it.
She eyed me suspiciously as she elegantly drove her fork into a cube of cheese and lifted it to her mouth.
"Can we just forget about the kid and enjoy our dinner?"
We sat in silence for a moment until a waiter came to refill our drinks, I wondered how long Clarisse's forced smile would last. As soon as he'd walked a few feet away, she gave me a questioning look, "Please tell me you aren't upset because he called you a bad man?"
Taking this as an opportunity, rather than an insult, I said, "Well if someone that young thinks so little of me, I can only imagine what everyone else thinks."
Rolling her eyes, she sighed, "I wish you wouldn't concern yourself with the opinions of others."
Without thinking, I responded with, "I wished the same thing of you six years ago when I asked you to marry me, but you shot me down because you were worried about what people would think! It's as if you assumed I would disgrace you."
"Which you did!" She half shouted at me, causing a few heads from around the restaurant to turn, "You-"
She thought about what she was saying and lowered her voice to barely a whisper, "You played me for a fool."
At that point, things took a wrong turn. I was trying to avoid talking about the woman at the other table because I feared it would start an argument, now it seemed we were having one anyway.
"You and your little whore embarrassed me in front of the entire country with your sordid affair."
As she spoke, she forgot her table manners and began stabbing the remaining cubes of cheese with her fork just to keep her hands busy. There was nothing I could possibly reply with, so I stayed silent, while she continued.
"Nobody has ever made me feel as low as you did when you cast me aside and went for a younger woman. A woman who was living under my own roof!"
A tear welled up in her eye, which she wiped away discreetly, "So if you're wondering why I no longer care what people think, it's because I've already suffered the ultimate humiliation."
Clarisse went quiet after that and lay her fork down on her plate. Her eyes glistened with tears as she looked out at the marina. I tried to apologise without words, but she'd turned away from me, "Clarisse, I know I've hurt you-"
"Don't!" She said through clenched teeth as her eyes bore into mine, "Don't you dare make me cry, not here."
I closed my mouth and felt a lump form in my throat. In the four months we've been back together, we've barely touched the subject of my affair. She'd never let me apologise or explain myself, we just didn't talk about it. Now her resentment came flooding out unexpectedly in the middle of dinner, she'd been bottling it up and chose to explode at that moment.
Clarisse composed herself and began eating again, not daring to look at me. Oh great, I thought to myself, I've really messed it up this time. What will I do now? Can't go back to Charlotte, can't live at the palace and I'll kill myself before I deign to live in a car again.
After another long silence, the waiter returned with the third course and asked us how the meal was. I hate it when people ask this because if there was something wrong with my meal, I would damn sure tell them about it! Nevertheless we said, "It's delicious," gave him a smile and he left.
"Joseph," she whispered, still looking down at her food.
I perked up at the sound of her voice, "Yes?"
Clarisse looked around and made sure the waiter wasn't in earshot before she said, "It's not really delicious."
Giggling a bit, she smiled and continued to eat. I smiled at her smiling and laughed when she said, "A starving dog wouldn't eat this."
Thankful she'd changed the subject, I asked, "Should we call it a night and get take-out on the way home?"
She smiled again and ate a small portion of the fish on her plate, "No, that would be rude."
Eying her surroundings suspiciously, she picked up the plate and threw it towards the water, only she didn't quite throw it high enough and it bounced off the railing, before it fell in. I'm not sure whether she meant to hang onto the plate and just toss the fish over the side, or if she was trying to get rid of the plate as well. Anyway I never would have expected her to act so inappropriate at a restaurant - especially a fancy one. We both laughed like school children at the small mess beneath the railing. I wondered if I should toss mine into the water too, but I was enjoying my meal, so I ate it instead.
Clarisse excused herself and went to the bathroom before the waiter came back, leaving me to explain her missing plate, "The plate tasted so good, she must have thought it was part of the meal."
Stone-faced, he gave me an unconvinced stare as he picked up my plate and carried it away. Soon after, Clarisse returned looking refreshed and cheery. The rest of the meal was fine and the conversation didn't turn sour again.
When we got home, I couldn't help but think about her little outburst at the restaurant. I imagine the amount of resentment she showed me was only the tip of the iceberg. So I was thinking to myself, do I really want to continue living life knowing that she's bottling up her resentment? Knowing that I'd still be walking on eggshells until she snapped again? So I thought long and hard about it, and decided that we finally needed to talk about it.
I found her in her office, leaning over the desk with her head in her hands. She never liked me being in her office/sanctuary, it was a place just for her to be alone. Ignoring her wishes, I entered anyway and put a hand on her back, startling her as she looked up at me.
She spoke in a low voice, "I apologise for my outburst at the restaurant, it was completely inappropriate and I feel terribly ashamed of myself."
"No," I told her, aware that I might be signing my own death sentence, "It's high time we spoke about my affair."
Shaking her head with disapproval, she turned away, "I don't want to talk about it. It's bad enough you had one, I don't want to hear the disgusting details."
"Well, you're clearly still mad at me. Perhaps if I explained, we could move on and-"
"I don't want to hear it!" She raised her voice and stood up.
"No, but you should."
I placed my hands gently on her arms and kept eye contact, "No words can fix what I've done to you, but I'd appreciate it if you'd let me explain why I did what I did."
"Clearly I didn't put enough effort as I thought into being the perfect wife."
"No, Clarisse, you did nothing wrong. If anything, you were too perfect! I fell in love with you because you were beautiful, smart and a little bit crazy."
I massaged her arms and continued, "When we moved into our own place, that side of you disappeared and I guess...I got bored. So I had to find my own way to make life more interesting."
"By fucking Charlotte?"
I sighed at her choice of words, "I thought I was in love."
Clarisse struggled to get away from me, but I tightened my grip on her arms. Her eyes were teary.
"By the time I realised I was only after an ego boost, it was too late. Jess was growing inside of her and I couldn't exactly turn back time. Then when you realised what was going on and kicked us out, my world came crashing down and I realised the entirety of my mistakes."
She finally broke free from my grasp and crossed her arms, "You must think very little of me, if you believe I remained ignorant throughout your entire affair."
I frowned, trying to understand her words.
"I knew you were fucking her long before you got her pregnant. I kept it to myself, because I honestly believed you would get bored with her and come back to me if I waited long enough. Obviously when that didn't happen, I finally gave up and let you go."
"How did you know?"
"I recognised the signs of an unfaithful spouse."
I thought about this for a moment and stupidly said, "Takes one to know one, I guess."
I received a hard slap across the face, something I no doubt deserved. A drop of blood slid down my lip as I apologised to her saddened face.
"I hated you for a long time and I wanted you to suffer. I even considered luring you back here under false pretences to remove your manhood. But I changed my mind and well, here you are today all in one piece."
I instinctively moved my hand to cover my 'manhood' as she called it, just incase she had second thoughts, "Thankyou for reconsidering."
A short burst of air escaped her nose and she looked away from me.
"Do you still hate me?"
She nodded, "Yes, but not nearly as much as I did. I realise the love I have for you is stronger than the hate and I know you're very sorry for what you did."
She made damn sure I was sorry when she took everything I owned.

"You never let me say the words, though. Clarisse-"
"No."
Quickly I grabbed her shoulders and forced her to look at me, "Clarisse, I am so sorry. I was stupid...idiotic...and just plain..."
I stopped on account of her tears, which were pouring out rapidly as I spoke, "I've never loved anyone as long or as much as I've loved you."
"Shit..." she whimpered as I drew her into my arms, "I didn't want you to see me like this."
"It wouldn't be the first time, but I promise you it will be the last."
Shaking her head, she sniffled, "Don't make promises you can't keep."
She stayed in my arms for a while and there was silence. I listened to her sobs and felt her warm tears drip onto my neck. Eventually she spoke, "Joseph, I want you to leave."
Shocked, I released her, "What?"
"You're in my office. Leave me alone for a while, hmm?"
"Of course," I whispered, my heart returning to normal as I went for the door, "Sorry."
So I'm still living here even after I went against Clarisse's wishes to not talk about the affair. I'm 60 per cent sure she still wants to be with me, but for tonight, I shall give her some space by sleeping in another room. It's lonely by myself and I'm having a hard time getting to sleep because I'm not sure how she will be in the morning. I can only hope everything will turn out fine and our love is strong enough to survive this.

6/5/09

Well it's been almost a week since that unpleasent evening where I was finally able to apologise for my unfaithful behaviour and I must say all is well. She still hasn't said, "I forgive you," but I don't ever expect to hear it. I think that's why she tried to stop me from apologizing for so long, because she's not ready to forgive. She seems happier to just move on and act as if it didn't happen. I knew I should have forced her to discuss it months ago when we first got back together, but I was just happy to have a proper roof over my head that I was too scared to screw it up. But everything is fine for the moment. I spent a few nights sleeping in another room, but since Monday's hot night of passion, Clarisse is quite willing to share her bed again.

Mia visited on Sunday and brought her laptop around to show me how "Skype" works. She was able to get a hold of Charlotte, but she didn't want to speak to her, so she just gave the computer to me and stood by talking quietly with Clarisse. Tears poured out of my eyes when my daughter's face showed up on the screen. I know she hasn't been gone that long, but I really miss her. She didn't seem to comprehend what was going on, but I spoke to her so she could hear my voice and even though she didn't pay me much attention, I still feel we made a connection.

I tried to keep my conversation with Charlotte brief, but her mother kept interrupting to tell me how better off Charlotte was without me. Janine never did approve of me being with her daughter, not only was I older than Charlotte, I was older than her as well by about four years. Luckily Charlotte was able to get rid of her so I could spend some time just watching Jess. I asked Charlotte how they were settling in and she said she managed to secure work thanks to Clarisse's letter. When she told me she was dating someone new, I suddenly became jealous, but tried not to show it due to Clarisse and Mia still being in the room. I do have concerns about the sort of person Charlotte would date. She never did have the best taste in men and I'm concerned she might fall for someone who won't treat my daughter kindly. You hear so many stories about 'my stepfather did this, my stepfather did that, my stepfather touched me here', I can't help but be concerned. I would murder anyone who dared lay a hand on my little girl, even if it meant trekking 2000 miles to do so.

I told Charlotte to be weary of this, then I decided I'd spent a questionable enough amount of time speaking with her and ended the call, saying another painful goodbye to my daughter.

I was quite grateful to Mia for allowing me to see Jess. I may be imagining it, but I think she's beginning to get over what I did to her grandmother. She smiles when she sees me now and even gives me a hug on occasion. I know it's a long-shot, but if I can get her to forgive me, perhaps she can convince the rest of the country that I'm not such a bad guy. It would be wonderful to walk down the street and receive friendly smiles, instead of spiteful frowns. I've spent so long being hated, I'm not sure I remember what a friendly face looks like. But if I could live the way I used to without strangers whispering behind their hands when I passed by, it would mean my mistakes were forgiven and we could all move on with our lives. Perhaps even find something new to gossip about.