DISCLAIMER: Star Trek is the property of Paramount, this story deals with pain, lost love, shame, guilt, fate and love, pretty much like life.

By ralst

My marriage is over. After less than two months the vows have been broken and dishonour has been brought to our household. Adultery, in some cultures a crime punishable by death, in others a cause of shame and banishment, for humans an embarrassment to family and friends that will eventually be forgotten by all those not directly effected. I was directly effected. I will never forget the anguish that accompanied the revelation, or the tears that were shed. Is it better or worse that the betrayal was made through love, not just unrestrained lust? Does the realisation that the love a marriage was built on was not strong enough to compete with the love of another, make the pain all the more deep? I wish I knew, I wish I knew how to stop the pain.

Tom sits beside me, his head bowed to stop our eyes from accidentally meeting, the air between us is thick with unspoken accusations and apologies. I am too tired to talk, too worn out by a day of devastation to utter a single word. In time the arguments and recriminations will begin, just as eventually the healing will also start to form a barrier between us and the pain, between us and our old friendship. All those years of trust and ease gone with the sight of another pair of lips dancing across flushed skin. Adultery. A simple word for something that sets in motion such a complex set of feelings and results. In some ways it's like a death, the end of trust, the end of innocence, the end of all the dreams we shared together.

He shifts in his seat, probably wanting to leave, get away from the pain and awkwardness, I don't blame him, I want that too. But something is keeping us together, sitting here in absolute quiet, the oppression of failure weighing us down. With our parting we could begin the journey into a now more unsure future, a time that will come no matter how we try and delay it. So we both sit and try to alter time, make it stop right here before our lives are forever changed. It is useless, change has already taken place, love has come from outside and stolen away the bonds of our marriage, shown the prospect of an altered and uncertain future. No matter how long we sit here, that future will eventually be embraced, the new love consumed in ever deepening bonds of emotion. The future is unstoppable, the end of our marriage already woven into fates loom.

As he clears his throat I can hear the tightness of his voice, pressed down by trying to withhold his emotions, his sorrow. I know that sound, because that is how my own voice will sound, strained and harsh, a source of pain amongst a river of devastation. "Do you.." When it comes his voice is soft, the rough texture of the sound masked by its limited volume, "think, we could.." I know what he is going to say and the possibility constricts my chest in a vice like grip of sorrow, "try again?" How can we try again? How can we forget? How can I forget? "Put all this behind us.." Forget lips fastened to skin, whispered words of love and devotion, the sight of limbs entwined in worshipful love, "make a fresh start?"

He looks at me now, with big sad eyes that have always eaten into my heart and made me forgive him anything. I can feel it now, the weakening of my will, not wanting to deny this poor man-child what I know will make him happy. "I.." Could it really be that easy? Could we both just go on with our lives as if nothing had happened, as if the foundation of 'us' hadn't been destroyed? "I can't." I see the tear slip silently down his cheek, he makes no attempt to wipe it away and for some strange reason I want to brush my hands across his skin and take away the watery signs of his distress. "I'm sorry Tom." Am I? If I truly was, wouldn't I try to make it work? "I just can't forget.." No I'll never be able to forger.. "Her."

His head bows in defeat, the battle for our marriage, for my love is over, it was over the first time I realised how much I loved Seven. Any last chance of our marriage lasting was shattered the day she told me she loved me too.

I am an adulteress. I am without honour. I should be shunned by all who know me.

I am also in love, in sweet magical love with a woman who makes me rejoice in every breath that I take. The mere thought of her lightens my dark mood of self hatred and loss, it cannot banish them entirely, as they are emotions I need to acknowledge and finally embrace, but it is enough to see me through, enough to keep me together in my shame.

"I am so sorry, Tom, I love her."

The End

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