When I got home I once more thought about my life and all the happy memories I had shared with my friends, and, for once, I didn’t cry. I sat in my kitchen, realizing that I had nothing left to do, truly surprised that my usual nervous ‘I’ve got to find something to do’ energy wasn’t there to fill me up and send me to my feet and out the door. It was a strange moment of contentment, my mind wasn’t absolutely still, but much calmer than its usual full speed space machine. I felt more settled and content than I had frankly ever been. I sipped my hot chocolate and thought about the few things I had still left to do. My phone rang and I contemplated ignoring it so I could just continue exploring the calm I felt inside of me. I didn’t recognize the number on the screen and that, of course, made me curious. ‘Hello?’ I answered. ‘Hello there!’ a warm, well-known voice answered my obvious who-the-hell-are-you question. ‘Mike!’ I yelled ‘I’ve missed you buddy, what part of the world are you. “No silly. That would not be cuckolding anymore would it?”“No.” I sighed.“You weren’t listening properly when Paulo talked about Derek and Gayle was you?”I tried to think about what he said. “She has met a guy on-line from New York and she is going to see him on her own and he’s coming to Portugal.”She was still smiling as she shook her head and stepped closer. “The ultimate act of cuckolding Rick,” she said softly, “is a wife having her lover’s child and the husband bringing the child up with her as his own.”I thought about it for a moment and then realised that she was right. That would not only be humiliating for him but would also be a constant reminder that his wife had let another man father her child. I nodded in response. “Yes, I see what you mean now,” I admitted. “But why go to New York?”She stepped back and laughed again. “You weren’t listening properly were you Rick. He’s an African American Rick!”The penny dropped. “Fuck,” I responded.“Yes, fuck indeed,” Maria said with.
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