August 9th (11 page)

Dear Tess,

This is a letter I almost didn’t write because of my disgust with myself and the guilt that consumes me. My despicable behavior and character flaws once again have threatened my soul and those I love most. Somehow I’ve lost whatever conscience I had.

My self caused living hell isn’t over. I’m in the midst of trying to find the courage to confess to the only woman I’ve ever loved and can’t live without. Three days ago I ended the free fall that’s caused my problem but I haven’t had the balls to tell anyone, not even my friend Gary or my therapist. For a reason I’m beginning to understand, I feel like I can tell you anything and everything.

It wasn’t planned. It all started very innocently and unexpectedly. Rogers Schmidt was considering an investment in a start-up software company in June. As is typical, the company founders gave their presentation
in our office and I then made an appointment to spend a couple days in their office talking with their staff and checking out what they’re doing firsthand. That’s what I do, analyze and make a recommendation.

After spending a couple of hours with the two founders I was given a tour of their small offices and then introduced individually to their handful of employees. As with most start-ups, almost everyone has an impressive title since it’s much easier to hand out titles than money. Except for the small corner office the founders shared, the remaining office space was divided into cubicles. When I was introduced to their VP of marketing I was shocked. Trying not to look like I’d just seen a ghost I shook hands with the very attractive woman. It was a handshake that felt like foreplay as she squeezed my hand then let go of her grip only to squeeze my hand even harder.

There stood Hope, probably the last woman in the world I wanted to see. Nine years after we had one night of drunken sex that nearly destroyed me and my marriage here she was, but now she was working for a start-up Rogers Schmidt was evaluating for a possible investment.

As I listened to the CEO praise Hope Bennett and her marketing plan, I flashed back nine years and Hope telling me she was only an escort to pay her way through college. Back then she was going to San Jose State. I also remembered how she stroked my ego by telling me she really liked me and was very selective. After the CEO suggested I get together with Hope later in the day to
hear her marketing plans I tried to reassure myself the past was the past and I had learned my lesson.

Later that afternoon I met with Hope. Standing in her cubicle felt awkward and I was relieved when she suggested we grab a cup of coffee and sit outside at one of the picnic tables provided for the building tenants. I started the conversation by telling her how surprised I was to see her. After she told me she didn’t believe in coincidences I paused to ponder what she meant. Smiling with a twinkle in her eye she said she had read about me in an article in the San Jose Mercury News about the movers and shakers of Silicon Valley. Flattered, I tried to remember if I had ever told her my last name.

Without me asking, Hope volunteered that after graduating from San Jose State she got her Masters from Cal. Then she went to work for a start-up and later married the founder. Their marriage lasted a couple of years before they divorced. Ironically she added their marriage ended when her husband cheated on her. When she asked about my life I nonchalantly told her business and family were both great. When I started to ask her questions about the marketing plan she smiled, looked me straight in the eye and gave me somewhat of a confession.

“You know you were different, don’t you? I needed the money back then but you were different. I wish we had met in a different context when we were both single. Intelligence has always been the biggest turn on for me. I hope our past doesn’t affect your analysis because
this Company really has something that’s going to be very big and I think I’d really enjoy working with you.”

As I swallowed hard she made a smooth transition to her marketing plan. She really did know what she was talking about and I was impressed by her answers to my questions. The trouble started when I needed help figuring out a spread sheet she handed to me. To point out what I was missing she walked behind me, leaned over my shoulder and casually pressed her breasts against me as she circled some numbers with a pen. When I didn’t pull away she whispered what any man loves to hear in my ear.

“You were the best lover, ever. I still remember that night because you were so sweet and thoughtful and actually concerned about me. It really wasn’t about the money with you. I hope you believe me. I wish you weren’t married, but I also wished for the same thing years ago.”

And just like that, I gave in. All it took was her hot body, beautiful face, ego boosting words and now a wildcard, her intelligence. When I suggested we finish going over the rest of her marketing plans at dinner, she smiled and answered with her voice an octave lower, “I’d love that. I can really learn so much from you.”

That night I repeated the behavior I most despise in myself. To help me from thinking about what I was doing I drank most of a bottle of wine at dinner. The sex was wild and pure passion. I thought I enjoyed the evening until the moment I got into my car to drive home.
That’s when whatever conscience I had repressed returned with a vengeance.

Stupidity is often defined as making the same mistake over and over again. How stupid am I since I continued the escapade with Hope for the next two months. It seemed as long as I continued to see her I perpetuated a lie I didn’t have to confront. I was consumed with trying to act like everything was normal once I got home.

Finally, three days ago I stopped the madness and ended whatever Hope and I had. Now I’m left alone in my own pool of guilt to contemplate my way out of the huge hole I’ve dug for myself. I don’t know how or where to start.

Oh Tess, I need someone to save me from myself.

Dear Tess,

I’m truly sorry and apologize for my last letter.

I was at the lowest point of my life and dumped my misery on you. Somehow writing you allows me to face my conscience and do the right thing and the night I mailed you the letter I confessed to Maggie after the kids were asleep. I’ll never forget her screaming at me when I told her what I’d done.

“You stupid son-of-a bitch. Again, with that same fucking bitch. How could you jeopardize our marriage and our family? How? Tell me how? I am so fucking disappointed in you. Why Dan, why? Do you want a fucking divorce, is that what you want?”

That was the first time Maggie had ever screamed at me or said the word fuck. Then she started to cry and shake. I never wanted to hold her more but when I tried to put my arm around her she told me to keep my fucking hands off her. For what seemed like a half
hour we sat motionless across from each other in the den with her sobbing and me slumped in a chair. Finally she asked me two questions I will never forget.

“Dan, do you still love me or do you want a divorce?”

And, my answer was the first step in rebuilding our marriage. I told Maggie my truth. She was the only woman I had ever loved and I couldn’t imagine my life without her. I never, ever had thought of a divorce, never. I acknowledged my despicable behavior without any excuses. I admitted to my character flaws, a drinking problem and a life that often came too easy for me. I needed help, I wanted help and I wanted our relationship and our family to flourish more than anything in the world. And I’ll never forget her response.

“Dan, I believe you. I’m still mad as hell and hurt so badly I can’t even look at you but I want to work it out, if we can. Let’s get our butts into therapy and learn how to really communicate with each other, again. But Dan, as sure as I am in saying that let me tell you something else. If you ever fuck around again, we’re finished. You need to know that. No more throwing yourself at my feet asking for forgiveness. No more second chances. Understand? Am I clear?”

And that was the start of my recovery. I immediately started therapy alone and with Maggie. I also started Alcoholics Anonymous finally admitting to myself that there is no such thing as a part-time drunk. I attend meetings regularly and have been sober for almost a year.

I did have one more conversation, by phone, with Hope but only after I shared with Maggie what I needed to do. I told Hope I would never ever see her again. I tried to assure her that Rogers Schmidt’s decision not to invest in her Company was strictly a business decision made in our partnership meeting and wasn’t influenced in any way by our relationship. I’m not sure whether she believed me or not but we ended our conversation by wishing each other the best, and when I got home that night I shared every word of that conversation with Maggie.

Tess, I continue to learn about myself and accept my weaknesses and character flaws. I believe I now know what triggers my destructive behavior and am committed to not falling into those traps again.

I thank you for being the catalyst that gave me back my conscience.

Dear Tess,

It was a wonderful year especially welcome after two very tumultuous years.

Maggie and I are back on track and really communicating. We’ve also gotten back our intimacy and with the kids older we try and get a date night every weekend. Even though I’ve now been sober without a drink for almost two years I still go to meetings.