John shrugged his shoulders and sighed, “No matter… it doesn’t matter anymore.” Moving to the door he stepped into the hail and went quickly to the nearest exit where he walked outside into the fresh air, hoping that somewhere he could find the sanity he’d left behind three months before.
CHAPTER EIGHT
For thirty days and thirty intolerably long and lonely nights Joan was alone, her mind continuously gnawed by the thought of what had happened to her once happy life. She avoided the Kents, lay in bed most of the day, and drank too much.
At the start of her second month by herself she had a dream that she and John were back together and when she woke up her pillow was wet with tears.
That was the morning the letter arrived! Joan recognized John’s hand writing and quickly she ripped open the envelope, positive that her dream had been a good omen that John had changed his mind… that everything would be all right between them.
Eagerly the beautiful young blonde began reading, and then her hands began trembling and the words blurred as her tears splashed down onto the paper.
It was all there – the end, the painful ultimate ending – words written by the only man she’d ever loved. The words of regret, expressing the shame he felt, and then, his disappointment in his wife.
Joan continued to read although she could barely see the words. John wrote that he was sure that there was no love on either of their parts any longer, and he definitely had no trust in a marriage that had become nothing more than a constant round of sexual orgies.
“Oh God,” she sobbed, and crumpled the letter up in her balled fist. It was all so unfair… John wouldn’t give her a chance to prove how much she still loved him. But she knew he was right about one thing. The beautiful love and marriage they had for five years had been destroyed. It was no more! But maybe, if they worked hard, there might be some hope! Surely what they had before was worth trying again.
She was still standing with the letter in her hand when the telephone rang. She ran to it, sure that it had to be John, who’d had second thoughts about sending the letter. “Hello… hello…” she sniffed.
“Hello, darling,” she heard Aunt Sara’s bubbling voice on the other end of the line. “You sound strange.”
“No… no… I’m all right…” the sobs were almost choking her, and the scalding tears were flowing harder than before.
“Are you still alone, honey?” Sara asked, having learned a week ago that John had left her.
“Yes, Aunt Sara… he wants a divorce.” There was a long pause then Sara’s voice, sounding almost pleased, came over the wire. “Look, darling, I’m on my way to New York, and it would be fun to have you along. I can introduce you to some really fantastic people. You’ll love them. Why don’t you come with me?”
“I’m too upset, Aunt Sara. I can never be happy again.”
“Oh come on, don’t be a silly goose,” the older woman teased. “We’ll have more fun than you’ve ever had… Happy? Happiness is relative, darling. You have a new life ahead of you. Excitement. Wonderful, entertaining friends, and lovers galore.”
Joan knew that she had to pull herself together, that unless she wanted to commit suicide and end it all, she would have to learn to live without John. Not being the type to take her own life, she abruptly decided her new beginning should be away from the place where she’d known such great happiness before. She waited only a second more, then closing her eyes in defeat, she said quietly, “All right, Sara. I’ll come!”
“Look, darling, meet me at International Airport at four o’clock this afternoon. I’ll have the tickets. Oh, this is going to be much fun.”
“I’ll be there,” Joan promised, then hung up the receiver. She stood by the telephone stand and stared around the room where she and John had been so happy in the past. The room blurred again and she made a futile effort to wipe the tears from her reddened eyes.
As the beautiful young blonde stood there, swaying and staring almost blankly around the room, she remembered her dream. Oh God, if only it could he true – could happen again! It was then she gave in to something she had wanted to do all day and night for the last thirty days.
She would call the apartment John had rented and beg him to give her another chance. She was positive that she could change his mmd if she only had a chance to prove her love for him.
Trembling with expectation, Joan quickly dialed the number, hoping that he hadn’t gone to work yet. She crossed her fingers and held her breath as the phone rang… and rang.
“Hello,” she heard a female voice answer.
“Is this the apartment of Mr. John Stanley?”
“Yes, it is, just a minute,” Joan heard the girl speaking, but not to her, “darling, it’s some woman. Wants to talk to you.”
Accepting defeat, blinded by tears, Joan slowly replaced the receiver and then, as she silently went to pack her belongings, she remembered a statement she had made to Bill the night they’d so thoughtlessly taught him about swapping, “It may work for some couples, but I’m sure, it doesn’t work for everyone.”
