How do you begin to trust again after being burned?
I was in love. She was my wife and I thought she was my best friend. Debbie and I were married for six years when I found out it was all an illusion.
We were living in Portland at the time, Debbie had recently taken a job as an internal auditor with the largest real estate firm in the city, I was in sales for a national machine tools manufacturer. Given my product line, it was rare for me to be downtown; most of my clients were in the burbs or outlying areas in Western Oregon, but this day found me in the city with an extra two hours on my hands.
I called Debbie, asked her to lunch and was disappointed when she told me that she had to finish a spreadsheet before an important meeting that afternoon. I didn’t want to waste the opportunity so I went over to Jake’s for a bowl of their crawfish Etouffée. I was enjoying the nut brown sauce over rice listening to the table of ladies behind me and wondering how they do it. All four women seemed to be talking at the same time. It wasn’t the first time I’d witnessed this phenomenon and it always puzzled me, men can’t do that.
I sat there smiling to myself while trying to understand how anyone could comprehend the gibberish when something one of the ladies said registered in my head; I wasn’t the only person intrigued by the lady’s question because the other three women at the table stopped talking at once.
“So is Deborah Miller doing the dirty with Simon Walker?”
This question got my instant attention because my wife’s given name is Deborah; she uses that name in her professional life, only family and friends call her Debbie; and Miller is the name she shares with me since we married (I’m Mark Miller, by the way)………..Continue Reading this story on the next page,Go below click>>>2