Chapter 1

“Are you completely blind!?” yelled Erik behind the counter. 

“Don't you see the guests that have practically sat down? They might want to eat. We are a restaurant and you are being paid to at least pretend to be a waiter. God forbid you actually serve the guests,” he snarled angrily. 

This woke me up from my daydream. I looked at him with a surprised look that I assume, somehow made him think that I questioned the tone in his voice. That seemed to anger him even more. This realization brought me to act and I went towards the guests that ware waiting at the door. 

After I was done with showing them to their table, I descended back into my thoughts where I was separated from the surrounding reality. My “tuning out” so to speak was becoming increasingly common for me this past week, and sadly something I thought would be even more so in weeks to come. I knew that it would probably lead to problems at work, and that worried me. However, I knew no way to stop so I had to gather my self and soldier on through this day and many more days to come. It was not easy, in part because I got a new speech in that angry voice a half-hour later, an I knew that they would continue on coming. 

Also, this time it was due to what Erik somehow perceived as nonchalance on my part, towards him when he called for me. I was not responsive enough, I suppose. 

“Don't you for a second think that just because you make the work schedule for the waiting staff, that you are some kind of boss.

Because you aren't and that kind of attitude is hurting the perception people have of this place. I'm busting my balls to make this a memorable dining experience for our guests, while your lackluster serving performance is sabotaging my efforts,” he said. 

He was an asshole all the time but I hated him the most when he thought he was being smart. Using words like “lackluster” and “performance” when disingenuously describing my work effort.

The guy hasn't read two books in his life.

“There is never a smile on your lips when you are welcoming the guests,” he continued. 

This was a lie. 

“Unless they are young girls, then you are all smiles and flirts,” he said. 

Yet another lie. 

I could smell the alcohol on his breath for the hundredth time this year. He was bigger than me and looked threatening, always on the edge. In part due to alcohol, his temper made me and the rest of the workforce uneasy. He is a mean drunk. We saw him as a bully. Not all of us, but almost. There was one big exception; our boss, my wife. She saw him as a wounded animal who deserved another chance. I took comfort in the fact that she loved me, she understood that he lied about me, and that rest of the workforce shared my thoughts on him. 

Even though he managed to bed many female colleagues through the years, that later on claimed it was a mistake, and that everyone makes mistakes, and that they were embarrassed for it. Whatever they claimed, they gave it up for the men that could most accurately be described as Biff Tannen’s evil twin. 

“Don't play dumb with me. I don't want you undermining my authority in front of the guests and employees,” Eric said.

He was in the middle of one of his speeches that I successfully managed to zone out. I could take this abuse despite being mentally rather low these days. Reason for that being that this might be his last week on the job.

My name is John Andersson and I am a married man. My wife’s name is Diana. We have two kids, Michael and Olivia. I'm tired right now. Multiple nights of almost non-existent sleep have worn me down.

What is the cause of my lack of sleep you may think?

Well, there is unrest in the middle east, Arsenal not winning a significant title for over ten years, Donald Trumps presidency, and as always: the Freemason’s stranglehold on the adult comic-book industry, which is killing the creativity as we all know. A little humor for the readers of my misery, even if the Arsenal fans reading this might not be amused. 

No. My lack of sleep is caused by something else.

My beautiful wife, the love of my life, has expressed the interest in expanding our relationship to include other people. It is the idea that she has put forward more than a year ago, but now it is not something she is putting out there to gauge my reaction. Instead, she has a plan of action ready that she wants me to understand and accept. We have been married for four years. Our kids are six and three. We seem like a perfect family on the outside, but she wants to date other men. 

And this is the reason that I can't focus on my job nowadays. Where is my life going? That is the question that is constantly posing itself in my head, transformed in different ways yet with always the same existential implication. She wants to stay married because she loves me, but she wants to have sex with others, and she wants me to accept that. If I can't do that, then it is for the best that we go our separate ways, she says.

It all started, I think, with one of our guests flirting with her about two years ago. He was mocked by everyone at the restaurant for it, guests and employees alike. She agreed to go out on a date with him as a joke. I thought it to be a joke myself and didn't worry about it at first. But I become increasingly worried as it took me forever to get her to tell me what had happened on their date. And to my astonishment, she had sex with him. 

I was starting to get suspicious after a couple of days. The guest in question's demeanor changed. He was not the meek clown anymore that always came with some tacky presents to my wife while sucking up to me at the same time. He was not some safe guy that I felt for, because he really liked my wife knowing that he could never have her.

Before their date, I thought of him as a man that seemed to look up to me and respect me. That dynamic changed after their date and now my wife seemed to be a little shy around him, unwilling to talk about their date. This was a tell sign that something had happened, and eventually it was confirmed by her. It was tremendously hard to take in for me.

This incident rocked our relationship hard, and it almost killed it. We have been going to counseling for a long time after that. There, I was assured that her transgression had nothing to do with me. She had a need for validation by other men. This need got to a boiling point two years ago. She said that she struggled with her weight, even though she still looked amazing to me. When the counseling stopped she started going to a therapist by herself.

All of this culminated in what she calls a two-part realization. First part is that she is not, sexually at least, a one-man woman, and the second part is that she yearns to be accepted for what she is. We have spoken about this extensively and as the time went on she wanted to know where I stood on the issue.

Will I stay or will I go?

The question I pose myself a tad pertinaciously is: Should I stay or should I go? Is it the same question as fight or flight? I ask myself and chose to fight. I remember the heartache her indiscretion caused me. All the soul-searching it made me do. Could I have done something to prevent this? Who is she really? And so on.

She is a thirty-year-old woman with a great figure, despite having given birth to two kids. She has great boobs, firm double E’s, auburn hair, and a face that made people think of Hayley Atwell. She is one meter and sixty centimetres tall. All of this is accentuated by a soft cheerful female voice that makes people think of a Disney character. 

We work together at the same workplace, my wife and I, and she is my boss. I never had any problem with that before the transgression. But things have changed in a number of ways since her date with Mark. Mark was the name of the guest that bedded her. That event has made me insecure, and that insecurity is manifesting itself in various ways ever since. Most notably in my reactions to Erik's behavior towards me.

I also have some special position in the restaurant. I'm responsible for the waiting staff, training them and making their schedules. That position comes with certain authority and responsibility. I'm good at my job and liked by all colleagues except Eric, whose feelings towards me are based upon two things I assume.

One is: Him being an ass hole in general; and two, him wanting to fuck my wife.

Diana is good at her job. She can be stern or understanding and compassionate. All depending on what the situation called for. She likes her job and takes it seriously without being a bore herself. Both guests and employees like her. Some more then others and Eric was, apart from me, her greatest fan. They had a special bond and understanding, one could say.

That was one of the thoughts I had in my head while getting yelled at by him today. Surely she would at least spare me the indignation of having an affair at our shared workplace? I thought to myself. But what was I supposed to believe, past experience considered? Therefore, as I mentioned earlier, him being on his way out of the restaurant was important to me. I was trying not to get my hopes up too much, but I was failing at it. 

I'm hoping for him to get fired; because of the fact that Diana cheated once before while claiming that nothing would happen and that I was silly for even thinking such a thing. Because of that, I'm hoping that this antagonizing, womanizing, alcoholic gets the shaft before being able to put some serious moves on Diana. As I see it now, I can’t really trust her anymore. 

Her position as I understand it, is that she loves me. She feels that I'm a great father, a great friend, and a gentle lover. I hated the last compliment. I tried to rough it up in a sack a little since I heard her describe me as a gentle lover, hoping that it will somehow decrease her desire to sleep with other people. If I could show her that I can be bad, she might abstain from polygamy, was my idea. It didn't work. She just gave me a kind smile and embrace while whispering that I didn’t need to try so hard.

“Let's make love instead,” she said.

But as time went on I struggled to get her to have sex with me. It angered me. She was less in the mood for it every day that passed it seemed. "This is not unusual for couples after a couple of years," said the therapist. But our situation was a tad different. I know that she wants sex, just not with me. We sporadically talked about it. I always tried to get some information out of her on what she wanted in a lover in order to adjust myself. She figured it out and grew impatient with me on the subject. At last she told me that she wanted variation, that she is the kind of woman that didn't belong to anyone and yet she belonged to everyone.

It annoyed me tremendously to hear her say this because it was such an obvious Lana Del Ray rip-off. Furthermore, it meant I needed to accept her for the slut she is. I was a man whose wife belongs to everyone was the message I received. 

It led to me not pushing the subject anymore. Instead, I bottled up my frustration and tried to suffer, with dignity. It was hard and I found myself constantly thinking who will be my new rival. Will he be a muscle bimbo or another version of me with a somewhat larger penis. The penis thing loomed large in my head. I almost blamed myself for her infidelity due to my shortcoming in the D department. Maybe it was the sole root of all of this, I thought at times. 

But I eventually understood that it perhaps was not. She wanted to feel desired from different men; that was all. And I was starting to come around to the thought of this and also looking for ways to live with it. I didn't want us to separate yet. I was a good father and she was a good mother. I didn't want someone else to be a father figure to my kids, either. Also, it might work if she did it with some sort of dignity. Maybe I could do the same, find someone as well. Maybe then the jealousy would lessen or disappear completely. But basically, I didn't want a life without her.

Was this true love or me being weak? I couldn't tell. 

So I thought to myself: bimbo or brainiac, or something in between, all men are welcome to come on my wife’s face. It will only cost you dinner. Step right up folks! I knew that what I thought wasn't funny, but I still laughed to myself. What will happen if other people see her walking down the street with another man?

The thing that was troubling me now was what if she finds someone that she clicks with and decides to leave me despite my trying to accept this new lifestyle of hers? The best option would probably be to find a couple with similar leanings and do this together. That was the final idea I would try to put forward. I would feel included in this and also perhaps avoid some of the jealousy. Preferably, it would be a couple with children. That would guarantee some stability, I thought. 

Eventually, after being consumed by this issue the whole day at work and the commute home, I arrived at our address, where I was awaited by my wife and kids, all of them in good mood. I got a peck on the cheek from Diana as I entered the kitchen door, which was followed by the kid’s onslaught as well. I picked up my daughter and ruffled my son’s hair while I thought I heard him tell me about something related to football. 

I couldn't hear him properly because my daughter was talking my ear off about how her friend, Tomas pushed her to the ground during playtime today. My son looked up at me waiting for a reply on what he said. I didn't catch it all. And I could see a bit of impatience on his face. My wife came to my rescue and took Olivia in her arms while giving me an expression that suggested Michael's story was worth listening to. 

He was being bullied at school and was often sad when arriving home. Today he was in a good mood. He scored a goal, a nice one. I went with him to the living room and listened to his story. It was great to hear that he was picked for the team and that he even scored a goal to help his team to the victory. He even made a drawing of it and showed it to me.

I caught a glimpse of Diana passing by, giving me a proud smile on her way through the hall. She was carryng Olivia in her arms, probably on their way to the bathroom. She was so pretty, my wife. And this moment was so great, happiness for everyone. It was something worth working on, I thought. Later that night after we got the kids in bed and sat down in the living room sofa ourselves, intending to watch Netflix while enjoying some wine and cheese, we started talking about our respective days. 

I started first. I told her about Erik's temper swings. She listened with concern this time. No usual jokes at his expense. 

“I'm worried about him,” she said. “He is losing his plot. This might end badly for him”.

“About time it does,” I replied. “He has been a pain in the ass for the entire workforce. Everyone hates him”. 

“That is a part of the problem,” she said. 

“What is?” I replied.

“The workforce hating him?” she asked.

“What are people to do? He is rude and mean to everyone. He is a grown-up, yet he behaves like the biggest baby. He is the problem! Don't you see that?” I said.

My voice was somewhat loud now. I noticed that myself and made an appropriate correction. 

“What is going to happen to him this time?” I asked. 

“I don't know, I honestly don't know,” she said. 

“He is a human being you know. He has not had the easiest of lives. And if he is a monster, it is not all his fault. I see good in him and I hope other people would, too,” she concluded. 

This was not the answer I was hoping for.

“What do you mean you don't know? He hit a colleague for no reason. Is that colleague obligated to see good in him?” I said.

“Of course not, but if I fire him he might end up on the street,” she said. 

“He is a grown man, older than you in fact! Maybe the street is where he belongs!” I said. 

I could not believe what she was saying, and in my disbelief, I raised my voice again. She was taking his side again. 

“He must go, Diana. You can't let him stay after he has physically attacked yet another employee. You know the result of this will be that Daniel will quit? He is a great employee. He has been there for a long time and is liked by all who work with him, as well as the guests. On the other side, we have Eric who is a good chef but also a pain in the ass for all people that work with him. And let's be honest, people hate Eric,” I said, matter of factually.

“Well, not everyone hates him,” she said with a sly grin, interrupting my rant. 

“No, not everyone,” I continued. “You seem to like him! You seem to be able to forgive him, everything he does to the rest of the staff including me, your husband.”

Again, I raised my voice. Her joke was a bit too much to handle at the moment.

“Don't be such a baby,” she said with a patronizing smile. “I didn't mean myself, and yes, I don't hate him either. I'm talking about all those women he's bedded during the years that later always claimed to be disgusted by him.

People are not always what they seem. I'm just saying. That is all. Therefore, you shouldn't believe all the hype of him being hated.”

The tone of her voice was just as annoying as the message she was communicating. Then she continued, “Don't get me wrong, I understand how you feel and I'm truly impressed by the way you are handling his childish behavior. And to be honest, thinking of it makes me a little horny, actually,” she concluded.

I stared at her in disbelief. Was she trying to get out off this by having sex with me?

“So I'm guessing that he stays,” I said calmly.

“I don't know,” she said.

“I actually don't feel like talking about this right now,” she continued. “I'm happy. My son scored a great goal on recess today. He came home with a smile on his face for once. My husband is a great guy, patient and loving, and I want to give him my love. I'm in the mood for it. Give me your love,” she said pleadingly. 

I was angry, I was not in the mood for love. I wanted sex. I wanted it to hurt. I wanted her to feel pain, and I made sure that she did. She started to unbutton my pants while kissing me lovingly. I kissed her back while my heart pounded. 

I wanted to make love to her at this moment. Just like we did years ago. Love and nothing else but love. But I got a grip off my feelings and decided to be less loving and more aggressive. This was out of fear that she was making a fool out off me again, by using sex to avoid an uncomfortable conversation. Sex that I desperately wanted, sex that I thought belonged to me. She was callous at this moment, I thought. I stood up and she pulled down my pants. She opened her mouth while maintaining eye contact with me, smiling cunningly. 

I was erect and shoved my penis into her mouth. She accepted it eagerly while maintaining eye contact. My hands went on to her head and then through her hair, both of them. I instructed her to put her hands behind her back. She complied. I started thrusting my erection down her throat. At first, it was slow and polite with maintained eye contact. Her smile was still visible, but I picked up the pace shortly after and I pushed myself harder and harder into her mouth, making her smile disappear. I was fucking her mouth while her hands came up against my thighs as a way for her to soften the impact at first.

I kept on with the same pace at first, ignoring her discomfort. Then I slowed down a little, to let saliva drop on her face in a form of my prolonged spit. I smeared it over her face, mixing it up with her own saliva that was there already. As I entered her mouth with yet another violent thrust, she pushed me away and freed herself.

“Maybe we should try this some other time,” she said, while trying to catch a breath.

I said I was sorry while looking down at her disappointed face. I felt embarrassed.

“It is okay. We can cuddle a little, instead,” she replied with an awkward smile while hitting the sofa seat suggestively a couple of times.

She looked at me warmly then, trying to make me feel better. I put my pants back on and sat down. She then put her head on my shoulder. We started watching House Of Cards. I could not focus on the show and wondered if she could? What was she thinking? I didn't ask her anything else that evening. Instead, we saw two episodes and went to bed. There I gave her a kiss. She reciprocated with the same. It was intense and quickly developed into a lovemaking. It was our mutual way to say I'm sorry, and it was great. I fell asleep that night in a better mood than in a long while.

Chapter 2

Next day at work went a tad easier than the day before. It was due to the expressed love from the day before, I suppose, I felt after the shock of that love again today. My anxieties about Diana and all the men in her proximity, especially Eric, were as bad as before. There was no rational reason for them not to be. But at the same time, I felt loved. That made my focus shift towards something more positive today. Before last night, I was caught in an emotional singularity of thought. Everything was dark and fear based, I was only thinking about losing my wife and all that it meant. I was questioning all the decisions I made for years back in time.

Today, I know that my situation is hard but I don't feel alone in it. Her making love to me, despite me being rude to her showed to me that she might love me after all, that her love might justify a little suffering on my part. The day went on and I endured it to endure another day. When I got back home the usual routine started: Peck on the cheek from the wife, kiss from the daughter, and absence of Michael. I gave Diana a look, implying, “Where is Michael?”

“In his room,” she said, a little concerned.

“I will go and talk to him," I said. And so I did.

Entering his room, I saw him draw. He liked that a lot. I think he got it from me. Sometimes we do it together. He was drawing some animals. It looked like a pride of lions. I sat next to him and said, "Hey."

“Hey,” he replied.

“How was school today?” I said. 

“It was okay,” he replied.

“Did something bad happen?” I asked. 

“No, not really,” he said. 

“Did you play football?” I asked again. 

“No. I was not allowed,” He said in a deflated voice. “Benjamin did not let me,” he added.

Benjamin is the name of his bully at school. Not being allowed to play football is bad, but he doesn’t want to talk about it. That makes it hard on me as a parent. I can’t cheer him up.

“It is a nice drawing. Is it something you got from Lion King?” I tried.

“Yes,” he said. 

“It's good. Do you want us to draw together? We can draw together after dinner if you'd like that?” I asked.

A calm "Yes," was all he said. A measured response by a kid who is very focused on what he is doing.

After dinner, both of us went back to his room and started drawing. I had to get started with my own project as well. Apart from being a waiter, I’m also an “up and coming” comic book artist. I’m no star by any means yet, but I have been published.

And I have spoken with my publisher about a new project that I just haven't got around to do yet.

And since there is no day like today I might just as well get started. It will be a great way to bond with my kid as well. The problem is that my next comic book is going to be more on the adult side, which meant that I have to be careful with what I draw when sitting with Michael.

And so we started to draw for a couple of hours.

I managed to ask him a couple of questions about school during that time. It turns out that Benjamin did not score a goal the day before. He said that Benjamin stood in his way yesterday and that he would not play if Benjamin played.

The other kids therefore excluded Michael from the game, without him going to the teachers to complain. He was embarrassed.

I knew that I had to have another talk with the teachers at the school because of this.

After a while, Michael got tired of drawing. He started playing video games instead, and I went back to the living room. There, Diana was sitting with a bottle of wine and two empty glasses.

To be continued...