"You've loved me your whole life," she pronounced it as Gospel. "I took that for granted. I foolishly thought if I could explain my actions in a way that I could make you understand, then you'd allow it. If you didn't allow it, at least you'd forgive me. But it never occurred to me that you would leave me because you loved me so much. I was woefully ignorant about that as well."

Mary stopped talking, waiting for my response or needing a break. I didn't plan to let her off the hook.

"I can't buy that," I told her. "You claim to love me and then, use my love against me. To sabotage my love and trust. That makes no sense."

"I know that," she left the word "now" hanging like an anvil. "After the first time, it got exponentially easier until you left. Actually, it was after I went with Ron to his house. He was getting better, stronger. I still had to help him get up and move, but he no longer needed me for... that. At least I didn't feel like he did. His first two prostheses were in place but he was still hounding me about sex. When he said the word, sex, that is, for the first time, something hit me like a ton of bricks.

"He'd tell me," she continued, "how much he enjoyed being with me, how connected we were. I told him my only connection was with my husband, and it sounded about as stupid when I said it as it probably sounds to you now. At least you have the same look on your face as Ron did."

Another pause and I waved my hand for her to keep on. "For the first time and to my eternal shame, in that moment, I figured out what he was doing... what I'd allowed him to do."

"Yeah, I'm gonna stop you right there," I said with a certain venom. "You knew well before that. At least you know me as well as I know you. Now I wonder about that. Anyway, we had this fight or discussion or whatever before I left. You knew what you'd done to me, to us."

"I didn't," she replied vehemently. "I only knew that I'd hurt you deeply. I excused that as me not getting to you first, so I could explain. I'd made all these excuses in my head. He was my friend, as Barb had been. He was your friend too. He needed me, needed us. I could tell you what was happening and you'd see my logic. It could be something we did together out of our love for him. You left and I knew that I'd hurt you because of how you found out."

Looking at my wife, it was easy to discern that she truly believed the crap coming out of her mouth. I briefly wondered if she might have some permanent brain damage. Suddenly, I looked at the time on my phone.

"We'll need to continue this later," I said. "We need to get back so you can call the kids." She frowned, knowing that I meant 'just in case'.

You'll need to have them network with each other, because the international call rate is going to be crazy, and you'll be on the phone with them until well past the time you need to get some rest."

Mary put up no argument. I knew on top of everything else, she was scared shitless. Her head always went to the worst possible outcome.

On the drive back, Mary was uncharacteristically quiet. Finally, she asked me, "Why are you here with me?" I found the question fascinating.

"Because," I stated. "My vows said better or worse, sickness and in health. I do not have it in me, no matter how cruelly you treated me, to leave you here when you needed me...or someone the most."

I slept restlessly but not over the procedure. I had a lot to think about for our trip home. There were going to be changes and demands and consequences. Mary wouldn't like most of them but if she wanted any chance at a future friendship, let alone a reconciliation, she'd have to abide or get the hell out.

Not precluding the procedure and what the doctor found, Mary would find herself in a situation that she either embraced or that broke her. Broke us.

Mary's procedure took only ninety minutes. She was mildly sedated and told me she loved me before going under. She also apologized profusely. I kept the kids notified by text.

Dr. Burns came to find me while Mary was in recovery.

"Devon," he said, sitting next to me, "Mary came through the procedure splendidly. You'll be able to see her soon. I wanted to let you know, that we found other damage - older damage - maybe from an earlier fall. Most likely when she was an adolescent and up to and including her early twenties." He paused to let that sink in.

"I'm a doctor, Devon," he continued, "not a soothsayer, so I can't say for sure if Mary has had certain confused behavior in the past... but you would, since you've known her so long. I have no interest in influencing you regarding your relationship, however, I do have some advice. I'd think hard about what you know to be true about Mary's personality and consider any past behavior to the contrary. It may help explain her recent lapses in judgment or it might open many new cans of worms. What to do with that information is entirely up to you, of course."

I had to process what he was saying in layman's terms. Initially, I considered whether I could have been one of Mary's confused, bad decisions.

"That aside," Dr Burns finished, "the procedure was completely successful. Mary is permanently cured unless she has another hard fall."

That last part was great news. I'd grown tired. I worried about Mary's health, constantly contemplating what my future would be like, and what the kids would think if my plans worked against their mother. She would come out smelling like a rose to the kids, even if I gave them the full chapter and verse on what Mary had done.

One thing that didn't happen in our tropical paradise was any sort of rest and relaxation. I brought my wife back to our room later that day, and she slept like the dead from early evening until the following morning. The kids were, as expected, very relieved.

Mary could feel my relief too, but she also felt my newfound resolve. The conversation we were to have after her procedure didn't happen because I'd lost the desire to have it.

Mary gave me space, but she was also reluctant to start or to push it. Dr. Burns told us Mary couldn't travel by plane for seventy-two hours after the surgery. With very little conversation as we remained in Mexico and almost none on our travel back home, Mary seemed a combination of nervous and forlorn. I'd come back to rescue her in her hour of need just like other times in our lives, but she knew this time was different. I could see the worry about our collective futures play across her face.

I wasted little time when we arrived back at our house, after all, I'd had more than enough time to think about what I would do. Mary busied herself doing all the things she and, I suppose other women do, when returning home from a trip. Even with the size of our small home, she didn't notice me clearing out the spare room closet that had been used for storage and then some of Ron's belongings. Any remnants of him were tossed in a trash bag and I moved the storage items to the garage.

"What are you doing?" she asked about forty-five minutes after I'd started.

"Rearranging," I stated without emotion. When I turned with the last of the storage items, she wore a sad puppy look. That wouldn't work, that day or any others to come.

"This is your room now," as I spoke the words, it was easy to see that Mary understood that I hadn't said 'FOR now'. Surprisingly, when I'd finished organizing and shelving all the crap in the garage, I found Mary moving most of her clothes and other things from our bedroom to her new one. I didn't say a word.

Later, Mary cooked a nice meal and offered me a coffee as I sat in the living room channel surfing.

"Devon," she asked meekly. "Can you please skip the boob tube tonight so we can talk?"

I didn't expect her to have herself together enough at that point but nodded and turned the TV off.

She sat in her favorite chair across from me and fluffed up some pillows behind her back. "Devon, first, I want to thank you for taking me to Mexico," she began sincerely, "for caring for me and about me, after what I did... what I've done to you. I love you and I think you know that. I know I've got a lot to make up for..."

"Hold it right there," I put my hand out in a 'full stop' motion. She'd made her first major mistake and only a few sentences in.

"All of my life," I continued, "I've been there for you. Always. I do the rescuing and then you do the making up for things." I paused for that to sink in and as it did shock registered on her face as though she'd never considered such a thing.

"I do the loving husband thing, something you've already said you took for granted." I began again. I do it because I've always loved you. I'm not sure that making up for the things you've done wrong can be categorized the same. One thing I know is that in order for me to stay... here, to stay married, things need to change."

Mary isn't a stupid woman, ear condition that caused confusion, or not. She isn't the type to have a 'fish out of water' look. Still, I'd never seen her that shocked. I pulled some papers out of my back-pants pocket and unfolded them.

"I'm going to explain these conditions, Mary," I sternly said. "Just stop me when you hear one you can't or won't abide by."

Most of what I read off to her that night was standard for any betrayed man. Sleeping separately until or if I felt like having sex with her. I made it clear that I wasn't sure that feeling would ever come back. No pouting, crying, or trying to seduce me. No moping around or overtly trying to please me to get back in my good graces.

I made sure she understood that GRACE is exactly what it would take for us to have a future. I'd have to forgive, if I could, but not forget. Then finally I made it clear that she was the one who'd changed the terms of our relationship.

I continued talking about splitting our money, or in our case, not doing it. I wanted her to fully appreciate that if it weren't for our age and state laws regarding Medicare or divorce, we probably wouldn't be having the conversation at all.

In return for her cooperation, I promised to live with her as friends - actually as friendly as I could bring myself to be - was how I'd phrased it. I told her that I expected both of us to be fully transparent with the children, without necessarily covering the specific, gory details.

To her credit, Mary sat stoically, as salty tears ran down her cheeks. She only looked away when she needed to blow her nose. After I'd finished, she stayed quiet even though it was evident she'd wanted to interrupt several times. Eventually, she squared herself to speak.

"Devon, I don't know what to say," she started. "I know I love you and always will. I know abiding by your demands will be painfully difficult. I know I'm willing to play by your rules - pay my penance - as it stands. I can only hope you can forgive me at some point, especially now that I'm cured of..."

"Let's talk about that," I cut her off. "You need to understand that I don't see things the way you do regarding your condition. If we have any chance at all, you're going to have to grasp that what you did to me with Ron, even what happened in high school, I don't see them as having anything to do with your ear issue or any confusion you may have had as a result."

Mary's shocked look had turned sad. She got up and almost ran down the hallway.

I heard her in the bathroom and the water running, presumably washing her face. To her credit, she came right back and sat back in her chair just looking at me.

"You're not saying anything," I announced more than stated. "So, I guess you're wondering what I mean. Mary, your confusion may have contributed to Ron getting in your head, but then again, maybe not. What I do know is that you've always been impulsive, impetuous, if you will. Your desire to help others, even stray animals, could be considered a fine quality, except not so much combined with those other two."

Mary was crying again. Except then, they were the tears of cold, hard truth.

"You brought that giant mutt home, you remember?" I went on. "The one you didn't bother to ask me about until the kids had spent several hours swooning over it. I had to be the bad guy, getting rid of it, remember? Then there was that cat. You're allergic to cats, and still, here's this black, long-haired cat that you just needed to rescue.

"The year Lindsey moved out," I was on a roll. "We started talking about getting a boat. Nothing fancy, we agreed. So what happens? You come home from garage-saling and there's an inflatable canoe with a couple of paddles in the trunk."

Mary had had enough. "We had great times in that silly little canoe!" she shrieked. "You loved our time on the lake in that thing and it only cost me fifteen dollars."

"You're right," I agreed. "We did... I did. But that's not the point. God, it's difficult to realize that I could think I knew someone so well, all my life, I might add, and still have gotten it so wrong. Tell me one time you've ever even considered consulting me about decisions that we were both supposed to make together.

"Better yet," I went another direction, "tell me how you went off and got pregnant so fast after we went our separate ways way back when?

Clearly, Mary hadn't expected the conversation she found herself in. "What are you asking?" she asked incredulously. "We've talked that to death, even before we got back together. What are you insinuating?" The wide range of emotions swept across her tear-stained face like a high-definition jumbotron.

"You don't know how to say 'no'," I disappointedly stated. "All these years and I'm just now realizing that sad fact. At the same time, you're hoping to restore my trust and respect in you. I hope you're starting to get a clear picture of just how tough that's going to be."

Mary couldn't hold my gaze and instead inspected a random spot on the hardwood floor. She knew just as surely as if it had been tattooed onto her forehead.

"Yes, I'm starting to," she said as she got up and left the room.

The first two weeks in our once-loving home were frigid at best. Thank goodness we had the little 300-square-foot building out back. I used it as an office from time to time and during that period, I did so again. There was a small coffee maker, an under-counter fridge, a toilet, and a hand sink, which allowed me to stay out there and work without having to go into the house.

Mary seemed to spend our nights together in self-reflection. During the day, she'd go shopping, or look for knick-knacks at garage sales. She never did go back to her retail job. I came home one afternoon from a sales call and found an old-fashioned metal sign that said 'office' hanging outside the door to the outbuilding. She'd dusted and tidied up the space for me.

I gave her all the space she needed. Some nights she'd be staring at the TV but I knew she was paying zero attention. I was doing the same. Yeah, that was a tough half-month.

But things began to improve. I found myself talking more over dinner, sharing things about my day like we used to. She'd go on about the kids, or something our little rebel Lindsey had done. The children seemed very happy that we were still together.

It was obvious that Mary was intent on winning back what had been lost and as the frost began to melt she seemed happier and maybe even resigned to her fate. We started to garden after I put in some raised beds. For the hot summer, she'd found an online deal for a small pool, just big enough for us to float around in and do some water calisthenics. We began to follow some of our old routines, before the issues with Ron, like going to the movies on Friday or Saturday night.

As for Ron well, neither of us ever spoke to him again. That was one of my conditions that Mary readily agreed to. The condition that we never associate with the others in the group was something she put up a fight for until she saw me coming into the living room with our large suitcase packed.

Mary had an unspoken way about her, making sure I knew she was available - sexually - to her without trying to be seductive. We'd known each other for so long that nothing verbal was needed.

It happened almost a year after we came back from Mexico. I had just retired myself and we'd had a nice dinner at one of our favorite swank restaurants on the lake. The atmosphere was more electric that night. Mary wasn't swooning, but it was apparent that she was proud of me. There wasn't any contribution from alcohol either, since I didn't drink and the Bailey's and coffee she had after dinner, usually made her sleepy.

We walked in our front door laughing about who knows what, and it just happened.

Mary could see... what? Desire in my eyes? She was on me before the front door closed. I hadn't planned it so no little blue helper for me, but to my astonishment, I didn't need it. Clothes were flying as we clumsily made it to our... my room. I'm surprised neither of us broke a hip!

Sufficient time had passed, so there wasn't any rough stuff on my part. I made love to Mary like the old days and she returned it in spades. After we caught our breath, my wife coaxed me back to attention, pleasantly surprising me. Then we took our time and did a few positions that were nearly long forgotten.

As I lay there looking at the ceiling afterward, Mary scooted up and nestled her head against my chest. Just the way she breathed told me she was content.

"Am I forgiven?" she asked gently. She felt me stiffen slightly and immediately looked up at my face. "I'm sorry," she said, her tone alarmed. "It just came out. I..."

Smartly, she stopped before going any further. I found that my pleasure in her constant atonement had abated.

"We should talk about that," I said with a slight smile. "If you're up to it."

She was and we talked for nearly two hours with a few breaks for water and the bathroom. It was amazing that so much had been left unsaid over the year. She sat up at one point and held my hand as sat there cross-legged, looking at me.

"I've been an incredibly selfish wife and partner," she began. "I can only hope I've earned back some of what I lost because of my stupidity." I slowly nodded in agreement.

"Devon," she went on. "For a long time, I've felt an overwhelming sense of trying to help people." She saw I was about to revert to our circular argument and put her hand up while continuing to talk.

"I never took stock of it, beyond what it did for those being helped, or me. Never until this past year. I just couldn't see how being there for someone in real need could be anything but good. But Dr. Evans helped me to see." Before she could continue, she saw the questioning look on my face.

"Oh, yes," she said. "Dr. Evans is a therapist I saw for the first three months after we got home last year. I didn't say anything because things were so tumultuous between us, I didn't want to rock the boat. Stupidly, I went there hoping to get some advice on how to get you to see I never intended hurt or pain. Boy, I certainly got an education. I never considered past my own selfish desires how my actions would affect others - people I loved and cared about."

I wasn't happy she kept another thing from me, but she had a full head of steam so, I just remained quiet.

"And I learned something else," she squeezed my hand. "I learned that you were right. Right about everything you said that day we got home from Mexico. I've been that way all my life and seeing myself in that mirror - in that light - sickened me and told me that I had a long way to go, beyond simply telling you I was wrong before I could ever fully make it up to you. I've been trying and hopefully, you've seen improvement from me in that regard."

"I have," I said cautiously. "But I've also seen you walking on eggshells, being uptight, and some of the joy within that makes you who you are seems to be gone. If that's because of how I've treated you, well then, I'm sorry. If it's just because you're trying to be someone you're not for my benefit, then I think we have a bigger problem."