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Miranda joins the fray later that afternoon.
But I was also damaged and jaded and hard. I, too, turned to her for advice. She was my sounding board when it was decision time. The children grew into well adjusted adults, and I saw them and their families from time to time. Unfortunately, as time went on our closeness faded. I did not hold it against them in any way. It was best that I be kept at a distance so my bitterness wouldn't infect their lives.
Mrs. Jensen worked for me until the kids left for college. Then she retired. I offered her free room and board as a pension. She had been a constant in my life for 15 years. She tried her best to get me to live again and find someone to share my life with. I appreciated her efforts but in the end she died knowing that I would always be alone.
I never really opened up to anyone ever again. My friendships were shallow and unfulfilling. I never really dated with the exception of a few group meals set up by casual friends. I developed a deserved reputation as an ice hearted, ruthless bastard, who was not to be crossed. For the most part I was avoided and I didn't blame anyone but me.
My sexual releases were managed well enough. My ever increasing wealth allowed me to maintain a steady rotation of call girls and escorts. I paid generously for their time and use of their bodies. I basically just fucked them and showed them the door. There was one I was quite fond of for awhile. Her name was Candy. I later found out it was really Marybeth. She was a passionate and willing partner. I think I was more than a client to her, too. But I could never burden someone else with my demons, so when I felt her becoming too attached to me, I cut her loose.
If you are wondering what happened to Jennifer, well, she had a hard life. She tried for almost a year to talk to me. I am not sure why she tried. Did she think we could reconcile or was she hoping for a relationship with my children? Maybe. I had given her fair warning, but she didn't listen.
She tried to stay in Chicago, so I started having her followed. When she applied for a position, I made sure her work history was always there to greet her. When she started dating, which appeared to be almost immediately, I sent care packages to her potential mates letting them know all about the woman they were letting into their lives. I didn't really care if they wanted to keep her around after they knew the truth, but I didn't want her to be able to reshape history by ignoring it. I had to live with it every day, so it was only fair that she did too.
As I said, my ex-wife kept up a steady campaign of unanswered phone calls, letters which I never read or responded to, and always kept my email inbox full. I think some sick part of me wanted some measure of her suffering. I suppose early on some type of professional help would have been appropriate. It may have saved some part of my soul and allowed me to gain back some sense of normalcy. But in the end, I never went, and as time passed it seemed too late to do any good. I could have changed my phone number, but I didn't. An assistant could have sorted my mail, but I always did it myself. I could have blocked her incoming emails. It would have prevented me from opening one of them accidently.
It was a stream of so sorry and it didn't mean anything. Of course it was a situation that got out of control. She had always loved me. Hadn't she suffered enough? I responded with a gift and a simple note. I purchased the smuttiest piece of lingerie I could find from her favorite store and had it wrapped carefully in the pure white ribbon that really brought out the pink of the box. I attached a beautifully hand written note. I am sure she appreciated the symmetry as she opened the card addressed to 'BITCH'. I hope she was able to understand my meaning when she found the massive butt plug and bottle of lube in amongst her new whore uniform. I thought the 'GO FUCK YOURSELF!' was a pretty clear instruction.
One of her potential beaus tried to take me to task for tormenting my ex-wife.