When I first met Dana, the woman that would become my wife, she was a new college graduate working at a large financial firm in a major city in the American southwest that is known for its very hot summers and pleasant winters.

 The company she worked for joined with my employer to arrange funding for a new medical wing of a hospital and Dana and I ended up being assigned to work together on the project. Of course, working together for many hours will lead to us getting to know each other better, finally going to dinner after work, then getting together over weekends, meeting each other’s parents, and talking about a future together. It didn’t take long to figure out that we loved each other, we were married a year to the day from when we first assigned to work together - which we called our first date.

During our dating days and after our marriage, we did many things with her family. Dana was the third of four children with two older brothers (each over six feet tall) and one younger sister as beautiful as Dana who was doing fashion modeling work. With a family of four children, their parent’s household was a bustling place with something going on all the time. There were always sports activities going on as her two older brothers were coaching soccer and youth football teams.

Her older brothers had been football jocks in high school and college. One of them had played in the NFL for a year. They were successful business executives with families that reflected their parent’s drive, ambition, and physical good looks. I never did get to where I could beat any of them in any game of basketball, hangman, or even tossing the football. However, they accepted me into their family very nicely and I felt comfortable being around them.

I should tell you a little about us. My wife Dana, is twenty-eight years old with silky dark brown hair that hangs very beautifully down to the middle of her back and she usually keeps it styled nicely. She is 5’8” tall, hazel eyes, 36C, and a body that is a magnet for any man’s eyes. With her height, looks, and figure, she could easily be a fashion model like her baby sister. I felt like I had won the lottery when she actually did marry me. I couldn’t have been more thrilled to be able to come home to her each night. She was the center of my world and everything I’ve ever wanted in my lifetime companion.

My name is Phillip Harris, but most everyone just calls me Phil. My looks are just typical for an average American white guy. I’m thirty years old, 5'8" (which is the same height as my wife Dana), I’m about 170 pounds, blue eyes, and light blonde hair that is thinning on top knowing that it’s probably going to get worse as my father and grandfather are completely bald. I wasn’t that gifted in the penis department with, at most, barely a five-inch long cock that my wife has said is adequate to satisfy her, but she would have preferred something longer and thicker, but she’s told me several times, “You get what you get in your DNA and you can’t change it.”

During our dating times and numerous times afterward, we talked in-depth about having children. There was a little debate over how many we would like to have; we settled on four: two boys and two girls with alternate sexes on each pregnancy. We joked that we both knew that we really can’t determine what the sex of our child will be, you just love the ones you get.

After our wedding, we purchased a four-bedroom, two-and-a-half baths, three-car garage home, with a nice size backyard in an upscale suburban area of our city that was perfect to raise a family. It had playgrounds within a few hundred feet of our home, with nice elementary, junior high, and high schools that are among the highest-rated in the state. We’ve outfitted one room to be a nursery and we’re going to eventually turn the second bedroom into a young child’s bedroom, we set the third bedroom up as a guest room, for now, the fourth bedroom will be our office.

I know it sounds like we’re planning the details long before my wife even got pregnant, but we’ve always done things far enough ahead of time so we can make all the little adjustments and not be rushed when the time for it to happen gets here. Even our wedding date and details of a honeymoon were all set within six months after meeting each other. We just like to get things planned and on the books so we can have a structured life.

I thought things were just about set the way we wanted them for our future. We just needed to get my wife pregnant.

For several months, my wife had started to detail the calendar days for her fertile times and schedule when we should time things right for sex. We were doing the basal temperature method to track her ovulation dates and fertile time. She had taken her temperature every morning immediately after waking for at least six months, so she pretty much knew what day to expect her ovulation to happen.

We found out that it is best to have sex for the three days before ovulation and on the day of ovulation. If you wait three days after ovulation happens, a woman’s safe days start and continue through her next menstrual period. So we needed to time things correctly to be a couple of days before or on the day that her temperature raises about four-tenths of a degree. She would track this on a chart that she kept in a small notebook on her nightstand by the bed. She needed to take her basal temperature before she got out of bed every morning as moving around raises her body temperature.

She would fuss over the details of her ovulation days trying to ensure that she could plan the details out of when we should schedule sex. There were more than a few times that she had me hold off sex for several days so, as she said, “This will give us a few more days to help build up your sperm count for the big “ovulation” day.”

About six months after our wedding, she announced, “Tomorrow evening is the time for the big event.” I was excited and I knew she was too. The next evening we followed the plan she had laid out. After we got home from work, we showered and changed into some more comfortable clothes, then enjoyed a nice dinner. We both cleaned up the dishes and the kitchen. When I wasn’t looking, she slipped away, then came back a few minutes later dressed in a sexy nightgown I’d never seen before. She proceeded to drag me to the bedroom, began the kissing, and I got into the foreplay she likes. She already had love-making music playing in the background. She undressed me as I undressed her.

She was still nervous when she dragged me to the bed and laid down beside me. I’d found that if I very lightly touch her back and sides with my fingertips barely touching her skin, that it always seems to get her adrenaline going. She even gets goosebumps when I do that. She calls it ‘her little tickle’, but it gets her adrenaline going because she knows what’s to follow. After touching and stimulating her for a considerable time, she initiated the sex by moving up on top of me and slowly impaled herself on my cock. She likes this position as she can control almost everything that goes on, including the depth, speed, and force.

She kept slowly riding me in this position for about five minutes but then wanted to be on all fours and let me approach her from behind. After several minutes of this, she had her first orgasm. I had to do all I could to hold back as it wasn’t time to let her have my deposit yet.

She rolled over on her back, grabbed my head with both hands, and brought my face up to where she could look me straight in the eyes with a very intense stare and said firmly, “Now, let me have the wonderful warm cum of yours. Put it as deep into me as you can.” With that, I started pumping and I noticed that she was squeezing me on the way out, but then letting me slide back in with little effort. It felt wonderful knowing that we were really trying to make a baby. When we both came together in a crescendo of panting and screaming, she said, ”Wow, I can tell you’ve been saving that up for me. It felt like a balloon of hot cum just burst inside me. There’s got to be enough sperm in that cum-dump to make me pregnant.”

We continued with the “Big Event” evening keeping us making love for more than four hours. It was well after midnight when she finally said that she felt her pussy was full. She should have more than enough of my sperm in her pussy to get her pregnant - after three ejaculations, it should be. As we collapsed into a spooning position, we immediately fell asleep. We repeated with more sex the next evening just to make sure that there were enough of my little swimmers in her womb to get a baby started.

However, the best-laid plans of mice and wives can go astray. You can imagine our disappointment when two weeks later, she announced that it didn’t work, her period had come, and she wasn’t pregnant.

I hugged her for a long time and said, “It’s going to be OK, honey. We’ve got a whole future of months to keep trying. We’ll schedule everything again for your fertile time next month.

We’ll get this figured out yet. We need to pay closer attention to your basal body temperature so we can make sure we do it just before your ovulation day because we’ve read that the sperm can live three to five days inside your body waiting for the egg to appear. That way we’ll be sure to hit your fertile days. We don’t have to wait until your temperature jumps slightly to indicate that you have ovulated.”

 She seemed to be OK with that plan as she gave me that cute little look where the right side of her mouth turns up in a one-sided smile. She turned and walked away.

Unfortunately, we had the same results repeat over and over for the next four months. She kept saying that she knew she was doing everything the way the book said to do it. She just wasn’t getting pregnant.

It was coming up to the fifth month and I was ready to try again. When the days got closer to her expected fertile days, she was not anywhere near as excited for our ‘make-a-baby’ session. She stalled me off and said she thinks she might have been miscalculating her fertile days. Even then, I had to convince her.

Sex with her this time was ok for me, but nothing to rock the boat about. She never really got into it this time. She did not have an orgasm either, which was unusual for her. I asked her what was wrong and why she was so listless. She wouldn’t answer me. She just walked away. I knew something was definitely on her mind. Something was troubling her deeply.

A few evenings later, when I caught her just staring at a blank wall, I asked again, “Dana, I know something is deeply disturbing you. I need to know what it is and what I might be able to do to solve this. Have I done something wrong? If so, I apologize, but please tell me what it is and I’ll fix it. I need to know what is wrong and why are you so listless and unhappy?”

She just gave me a look that spoke “sadness” to me, walked away, went to bed, and pulled the covers up to her head. After several tries to get her to talk to me, she pretended that she went to sleep. I was bewildered, got up, and left going to the living room and turned on the television. My eyes were watching the screen, but my mind was on Dana.

What was her problem and why won’t she talk to me about it? She has never been this way in all our dating and married life. Was she this despondent because she hadn’t gotten pregnant yet, but she also showed no interest in having sex that would help solve that problem? What was going on?

She brooded for a couple of weeks without saying much to me. After about three weeks, I asked her about her basal body temperature charts and what did it show. She muttered, “I stopped checking my morning temperature a few weeks ago. It all seems like a big waste of time. My body is doing what it wants to and I just have to go along for the ride.”

I replied, “What does that mean? Why, all of a sudden, do you feel so lackluster about us getting a baby started?” I received no answer.

I let this go on for several more weeks with no real change in her willingness to talk to me about what she was brooding about. I hadn’t pressured her for sex as she made it clear she wasn’t in the mood.

Something had to be resolved or I was going to blow my top at her. When nothing had changed in another ten days, one evening after dinner, I took her by the hand, she pulled back and didn’t want to follow me, but I held her hand tightly, and I led her to our living room couch. I indicated for her to sit down. I had to get some kind of answer out of her as to what was going on in her head and why she’s being so depressed.

I started, “Dana, I’ve never seen you act this way in all the time I’ve known you. I need to know what is going on in that head of yours. I need some answers. I’m going to sit right here in front of you until you tell me what’s going on inside your mind. Something is deeply troubling you. If it’s something I did, please let me know and I’ll fix it. If there is anything else, please tell me so I will know how I can help you. I just don’t know what to do to help. Please open up and tell me.”

She sat angled towards me with her head down, hands together, and her fingers tightly interlaced in her lap. She took several deep breaths, with tears in her eyes she looked up at me. “First of all, I want you to know that I love you very much. I really enjoy being married to you and living here in this wonderful house. You know I want children very much and I know that you would be a fabulous father to them. We’ve got the things completed with this house and the nursery is all ready for a little one. But what’s been on my mind is that I can’t stop thinking of what our kids will look like.“

“Genetically, I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that with you, as the father of our children, as the sperm donor our kids will be copies of you - short to average height, light blond hair, with average size body builds. I’m envisioning our boys with you as their father and they will be smaller to average size so their chances of being selected to play on high school, college football, or basketball teams will be low to non-existent.”

“I also know that our boys will follow their father in most genetic details, including that they will have small penises. I can’t help it, but I want children with lots of dark hair. I want the boys to grow to be taller than me, so I can look up to them too. I want their girlfriends and future wives to look up to their men so they can wear high heels when they go out together and not feel she is towering over her date. They will be proud of him because he is handsome and well respected.”

“I want a guy that is large enough that he can play football and other sports and could even be a contender for being a captain of the team, maybe go on to be a professional player in the NBA or NFL.”

After a long pause for at least a minute of her looking down at her hands, she looked up at me and said, “I think that a guy who is tall - around 6’2”, muscular and strong, with dark hair, and has a huge cock would be the ideal father for my children. I hate to say this to you, but I feel I want another man to be my sperm donor instead of you.”

My mouth dropped to the floor. Hearing her say that was the biggest shock of my life! That was totally unexpected. I was absolutely stunned.

I sat there staring at her as she hung her head again. I finally stammered out, “Wow! What do I say to that?”

After another few moments, I said, “Dana, this is the first time you have ever indicated that you thought I was inadequate to be the father of our children in any way, but especially genetically. I’m very much shocked that you would say this.” I just sat there for what felt like forever, looking at her as her eyes kept moving several times from her hands in her lap up to look at me. She finally stared back at me with a seriously straight face.

I finally uttered, “So let me get this straight so I will be clear about what you just said to me. You are saying that you want to have another man inseminate you so you can have a child or children that look like him and not me. Then you want me to support you and them and take care of them as if they are our children?

Her reply was just about what I thought she would say, “Yes, I want to have another man get me pregnant, and then we will raise the children as our own. I know you will love these children as your own because they are my gift to you. We can have four children - two boys and two girls, just like we planned, and have a family that will be just like I dreamed about. A happy family with lots of love for everyone in it. Our boys will be the leaders in their high school and on their school and college teams. Our girls will be beautiful and smart. They could grow up to be fashion models like I always wanted to be”.

I now realized that she felt that any children I fathered would be undesirable to her as she thought my DNA was inferior to another man with the traits she wanted in her children. I realized that she wanted a totally different type of man to father her children.

I was very upset. I was about to explode but kept trying to hold myself together so she would continue the conversation with me. It was one of the toughest things I have ever done – keeping my anger down and mouth in control.

I pressed her for more information about why this sudden change of plans from what we had discussed long before our wedding. She said, “Some of my co-workers brought in their families and the children of the guys I work with looked exactly like my brothers and sister did when they were younger. They are very handsome, rugged, and manly even though they are teenagers. The daughters were equally as impressive with their long brown hair and their beautiful smiles. I want my kids to look just like them.”

I started to realize that she wanted to recreate the family that she had grown up in. She wanted to have kids with the same looks, the same physical size, and shape. I got the feeling that she has her eyes on one of the men in the office to be her sperm donor.

I reminded her that she must know that seeing us with children that we claimed as ours with their dark hair, different eye color from mine, and a difference in stature and skin tone would cause several questions from everyone, especially family, as to how the children look so different from me.

I asked about her cock size requirement that she had told me about. She said that other women she works with tell her that these guys are very large around and long. She said one of her single woman coworkers said she couldn’t get enough of her boss’ body and they had sex as often as they could arrange it.

I asked her, “Since you’ve got this so well thought out, when did you plan on having sex with this other man?”

“I want to do it as soon as it can be arranged with my fertile time. I want to get pregnant with his child as soon as possible."

I knew that she had held me off from having sex until it was past her most fertile time and there was no way we were going to have sex now – not after her admission of what she really wanted her children to be like.

I started to let my anger show when I said, “Why did you marry me if this is how you feel if you want your children to look like someone else? Why did you wait so long to let me know about this?

She replied, “After we got serious about starting our baby, I realized that I wanted to have children that would have different physical features than you. What I want for them, you can’t give me.”

“Yes, I know I will never be able to give you the children that look the way you want. Most importantly, I will NEVER be the cuckold husband that willingly sits back and lets another man breed his wife. If this is truly what you want, you go do it with this perfect man you selected, but I won’t be around or be any part of taking care of you or the child. If you succeed in having this 'man of your dreams' breed you and get you pregnant, you will raise that child on your own!"

She simply commented, “I’m very sorry that you feel that way. Maybe I have misled you after all we’ve planned for our lives together. But I’m sorry. I want my children to have the best chance at a healthy, exciting future. I want to give them the best start in life that I can. I think that’s the best thing a mother can give her children - making sure they have the best possible DNA.”

After that comment, I stormed off to our bedroom to start packing up to leave but then realized I didn’t have anywhere else to go except a hotel and that would get very expensive. So, for at least the time that the divorce paperwork would take to be finalized, I moved out of the master bedroom and into the guest bedroom of our home. I would use the guest bathroom and with some luck, I could get my work schedule rearranged to where I would be out of the house for most of the time that she'd be at home. She had to know that this desire for another man’s DNA, and not mine, has no place in my life.

How could she expect me to take her change of plans without reacting this way? No man that cares about himself or his future, and especially if that man wants to have children of his own will sit calmly by and let his wife pick another man as her sperm donor where she expects her husband to raise the children of her affair. I was so upset that I couldn’t sleep and watched a lot of late-night TV shows. She kept to herself knowing that I was very upset with her and her decisions.

She never did come to the guest bedroom and try to talk about any of this. She almost acted as if she was glad that she had said the things she did and had a big weight off her shoulders. I saw her two days later and she was humming and singing as she was doing laundry.

I also now realized that I had not seen any proof this last month that she had a menstrual period. What could be the reason? Could she already be pregnant with her co-worker’s baby? Could she be trying to convince me to allow her to have sex with another man so she could try to cover up the fact that she is already pregnant, by trying to convince me it happened during the sex that I allowed her to have? Could she have already started the baby – without me?

Being alone allowed me some time to think about the past few months in detail. I had never suspected her of cheating, but now I had to do some investigation to satisfy my curiosity – if nothing else. I was able to sign in to our joint cell phone account and check all the calls and text messages that she had sent over the last few months.

There were about twenty texts to a number that I didn’t recognize that were sent over the last two months, about three of them on the evening of when I’d moved into the guest bedroom. They were also in the evening hours when she would have been home. I had to find out who this number belonged to.

The next day, I went to a landline phone at my work and dialed the number. A man’s voice answered. I said, ”I was given this number that is from a man that said this would be (I made up a name) John Johnson who works at (I gave him my wife’s work’s company name).”

He replied, “This isn’t John Johnson, I’m Richard McMichael, and I work at the same company. Let me look up in our company directory for the name of John Johnson.” Silence for a few moments, then, “I’m sorry, but there is no “John Johnson listed in the current company directory.”

I simply said,” Thanks for looking, “and hung up.

Well, now I had the name of the guy to whom she sent six text messages during our evening hours just in the few weeks. There had never been a time before that she ever needed to communicate with anyone at work outside of her normal work hours. So what were these texts about? How to get the contents of the texts?

Since I was the owner of the cell phone account, I could get access to some of the details of the texts that were available. The phone company didn’t store much more than I already knew, just the time of the calls/text, the sender and the receiver of the texts, the size of the text, and if it contained any photos or not.

Since I knew his name and the company he worked for, I decided to go to social media (I searched through all of them I could find) and try to see if I could find his name and some details about him. Mostly, some of the professional sites that share resume and background information shows a photo of the person. After about an hour of looking - Bingo - I found him!

There his picture was of a larger, muscular, tall guy with very distinguished and masculine looks, with dark, almost black hair, a proud chin, and brown eyes. He looked good in his business suit. On the site, it showed his current position in the company as a division general manager, showed his university education, listed seven other companies he has worked for, and his time in his current position. I even had his contact information, including his email.

I had to find out what the current relationship was between my wife and Richard McMichael. From my wife’s comments, he was married with teenage children. I was pretty sure his wife would be interested to find out if any liaisons are going on between Richard and Dana. But what do I do about it now? I thought I would just wait and see how this developed.

I filed divorce papers the next day.

Another month had passed with nothing changing between Dana and me. I only saw and spoke to Dana a couple of times and then it was only a yes or no.

The following Thursday evening, I was able to catch her in the kitchen and I said to Dana, “I know that you trying to arrange to have sex with one of your co-workers. So when do you plan on doing that?”

“It’s very timely that you would ask about that today. Everything is set for tomorrow evening, Friday, and I will be staying with him over the weekend. So I won’t be home until late Sunday. But why should you care? You should already have the divorce paperwork in process, don’t you?”

With that comment, I thought I would throw her lovers' name back at her. ”Yes, divorce paperwork is in process. I want you to know that if you get pregnant, you must let him know that since our divorce will be final before the baby is born, you will make sure you tell Richard McMichael that his name will be listed as the baby’s father on the birth certificate.

She spun quickly towards me and glared with her mouth open, clearly shocked, “How do you know his name?”

“Dana, you aren’t as clever as you think you are. I know you’ve been talking to him and texting him for several months. This will be your first official overnight adultery session with him, so I will clearly have the grounds to divorce you. Be prepared to be the mistress that will get the wrath from his wife and family when they find out.”

I continued, “I’m serious, most states require that, with a married couple, the husband will be listed on the birth certificate as the father of the child born when they are married. Any child Richard breeds into you won’t be my child so I want his name on the birth certificate. I’ll get the proper forms so you can fill his name and information in for the county clerk.”

With arms folded in front of her, she stood defiantly and glared at me for a long moment, then turned and walked away to her bedroom without saying a word and slammed the door.

The next day was Friday. I purposely didn’t come home until after 10:00 pm. I got busy at work and didn’t notice the time escaping – mainly because I knew I didn’t have anyone to come home to. It’s amazing how long it can take to go through the details of a multi-million dollar financial transaction looking for any problems or future issues. When I got home, the house was dark. Of course, Dana wasn’t home. Her car was in the garage, so I assumed he came to pick her up.

Too bad I wasn’t there to see how she was dressed. I’ll bet she went overboard for him. I ate a microwave frozen dinner, then was in my guest room bed by midnight. I laid there thinking about how many months it had been since I’d had sex with Dana. Now, another man was going to breed her tonight and continue doing it to her throughout this weekend. She would be pregnant when the divorce is completed – unless the judge orders a DNA test of the baby to see who the real father is. That could delay finalization until the baby would be born.

Saturday morning was a sleep-in day – partly because I didn’t sleep well with my mind on Dana and Richard McMichael. I got up about 10:00 am feeling crappy. There was grass to mow and other yard work to do so I got started on it.

A little after 3:00 pm, I went inside to get a drink of water, when I heard the doorbell ring. I wasn’t expecting anyone, but I went through the house to answer the doorbell. It was a surprise when I opened the door and there stood two policemen.

They asked, “Are you Phillip Harris?”

“Yes.

“Are you the husband of Dana Harris?”

Again I replied, “Yes.”

“I’m afraid we have some bad news to give you. Your wife has been seriously hurt in a car crash. She is in the city general hospital. Right now, she is listed in critical condition, but stable.”

“Oh my God, what happened?”

“The red Porsche that Mr. McMichael was driving was speeding and it looks like he swerved to avoid another car, spun out, and slammed into a large concrete abutment on the river bridge. Luckily, the ambulance was able to get to your wife and get her out of the wreck fairly quickly as they had the jaws of life with them. They got her to the hospital immediately.”

“Do you have a room number for her at the hospital?”

“She hadn’t been assigned a room at the time we left the hospital to come to find you. The hospital has been calling your phone for at least two hours, but you’ve never answered.”

“I was working in the back yard and with the lawnmower running. I can never hear my phone with that noise, so I left it in the house. Thanks, officers. I’ll leave as soon as I can get changed out of these dirty clothes.”

“Mr. Harris, we’re so sorry this has happened, but we are glad we got hold of you. If there is anything we can do, please let us know.” One of them handed me a business car giving me his contact information.

I took a quick shower, dressed as quickly as I could, jumped into the car, and headed straight for the hospital. When I got there, I went straight to the critical care unit, signed in, and was instead directed to go up to the general admission floors to the room they had assigned her. But there was nobody in her room.

A nurse saw me enter the room and said, “Are you Mr. Harris? I nodded my head. “If you are looking for your wife, she is still in surgery. They are doing what they can to put her back together. You can wait here, or you can go down to the surgery waiting room to wait for her to be brought up to the room. It could be a couple of hours yet before they bring her up.”

“I’ll wait here. It will be more private to make some phone calls.”

“If you need anything, I’ll be at the nurse’s station is just down the hall.”

I called her parents and told them about Dana. They had not heard anything, so they were very surprised and instantly worried. Both of them said they would quickly come down to the hospital and wait with me. I phoned my parents and other friends. Told them not to come down to the hospital tonight or probably even tomorrow as she will be sedated and they won’t be able to talk to her.

Dana’s parents arrived about thirty minutes later and set in the room with me. We exchanged pleasantries, but I didn’t have much to say to them and I apologized for not saying much. I told them my mind was on Dana and her recovery. They seemed to accept that as the reason I kept so quiet. I sat and read a magazine or two in seclusion.

It was about three hours later that Dana was wheeled into the room. She was slowly and carefully transferred to the bed in the room, which was probably her home for the next several weeks. She was unconscious and heavily sedated. Lots of bandages and towels were around her middle and legs.

One of the doctors had followed her into her room. He looked at me and said, “Are you Mr. Harris?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Your wife has some very bad injuries to her pelvis and upper legs. It looks as if the dashboard of the car came over and crushed her pelvic area in the crash. Her pelvis is broken in three places, both of her femur bones in her thighs are broken. The surgery put everything back into place as best we could, but her recovery time is going to take six to nine months to heal enough so she can walk unaided, but over a year or more to be able to be mostly normal. There will be a lot of physical therapy and work that she must do. But she should with time, be able to do most things without problems. However, I’m sorry Mr. Harris, but there is one more thing that I need you to know. We weren’t able to save the baby. It looked like it was about eight to ten weeks along. Her uterus was damaged somewhat, but we think that she will heal well enough to be able to have additional children.”

Needless to say, that came as a huge shock to me – finding out she was already two months pregnant. I hadn’t touched her because we hadn’t been speaking in over three months, so I knew it wasn’t mine.

I guess I must have had a very sullen look on my face as the doctor looked at me and said, “Is there anything more that I can do for you? Anything further that I can answer?"

I just looked down and shook my head. He and most of the medical people slowly ambled out of the room.

Dana’s mother and father then came over to me and put their arms around me. Her mother looked at me and said, “We didn’t know that she was pregnant? That would have been your first child. We are so sorry for you and her both. To have this happen and then to lose the baby is going to be very tough on you both.”

“It’s ok, mom and dad. We’ll survive,” I just didn’t have it in me to tell them that the baby wasn’t mine.

We talked for a little while about how she will have some trouble getting around our house. Luckily, our home is all on one level so she will not need to climb stairs. She might be in a wheelchair for a while. But as she is still my wife, I felt obligated to stay and take care of her.

After a while, her parents went home and left me alone in the room with Dana. All I could hear was the constant beep of the monitors, and Dana quietly breathing. I settled back on the small couch in the room and got to thinking about how her decision to go have a weekend with her lover had ended up here.

I realized that the policemen had told me that Richard McMichael had been driving and lost control. What was his status, was he in this hospital too.

I strolled down the hall to the nurse’s station. I found the nurse that had talked to me earlier. She looked at me and I said, “I was told that Richard McMichael was driving the car that wrecked hurting my wife. I was wondering what is Richard’s condition. Is he here in this hospital too?“

“Mr. Harris, in most cases we are not allowed to discuss other patients, but since your wife was in the car with him, I think I can break protocol and tell you. Richard McMichael has now deceased from his injuries. His body was taken to her selected mortuary as per his wife’s instructions. That family is hurting very badly as he was dearly loved. They are going to plan a funeral. I’m sure the newspapers will soon have an obituary published for him.”

I was stunned. I just stared at her. She finally replied, “Mr.Harris, did you know him very well?

“No, not really, I’ve only spoken with him once. He and my wife worked together at their employment. That’s how they knew each other.”

I walked back to Dana’s room and sat on the couch again. Thinking about what a difference twenty-four hours can make. At this time last night, I envisioned Dana lying naked in a hotel somewhere in the city, in the throes of passion as she and Richard made love. She must have told him that she was pregnant with his child. I’m sure they discussed the options and what she was going to do about taking care of the baby. I thought it a little ironic that she was pregnant with the baby she wanted that would have had the dark hair and brown eyes, and how quickly and painfully it was ripped from her.

Now there was only pain and loss on everyone’s part, including Dana, Richard, his family, and even me. My future at least for the next year or so has changed. I can’t leave a wife in this condition. She needs help now more than at any other time in her life. I would be considered a horrible scoundrel or worse if I left her now. I guess I better call my lawyer tomorrow and tell him to put a hold on the divorce paperwork.

Dana woke up on the afternoon of her second day in the hospital. I was there when she opened her eyes and saw me sitting on the couch next to her bed. She smiled and said her first words to me, “Oh, you’re here.” It came out like she was glad to see me. She said slowly, ”Ah, err.. how long have I been here? What day is it?”

I took her hand in mine, “Today is Monday. It’s midafternoon. You were in a bad car accident last Saturday afternoon around 1:00 pm. You have been here two and a half days. From what the doctors tell me, you will probably be here for at least two to three weeks, then be moved to a twenty-four-hour care center for a few more weeks. You were badly hurt.

Dana said, “I don’t remember much about the accident. It happened so fast. What did they have to do to me?”

“You were in surgery for about six hours. They said they had to put you back together as best they could. I called your parents and they came and sat with me while we waited for you to get out of surgery. They heard what the doctors told me about your pelvis being broken in three places and both of your femur thigh bones were also broken.”

“I hurt all over,” Dana commented. “Everything from my neck down is throbbing. I think I need some more pain relievers.”

I pressed the button on her bed control that buzzed the nurse.

“Dana, this recovery could take up to six to eight months to be able to walk and a year or more to have your full strength and capabilities again. You are going to need to put in a lot of effort to do your physical therapy and get better.”

As the nurse walked in, I said, “You better rest now. I’ll talk to you more tomorrow afternoon, after work.” Then I left.

When I got in to see her the next afternoon, I deduced it was up to me to deliver more bad news.

I held her hand and looked into her eyes. “I don’t know if you know or not, but someone must tell you that your Richard was killed in the car crash you two had last Saturday. His family is making funeral arrangements. When the arrangements are finalized, I’ll let you know about them. You will not be in any shape to go to the funeral. So you need to decide if you want me or anyone else to go to the funeral and represent you, and bring you back the details.”

Instantly, her eyes filled up with tears. She looked down and started crying. This let me know that she must have been deeply infatuated with him and she probably felt that she loved him. I think a woman must feel strongly for a man to let him make her pregnant, maybe she thought she was in love with him. After she regained her composure after several minutes, I had to tell her something else that will break her heart a second time.

“After the surgery where they put you back together, the doctors told me that they found that you were about eight to ten weeks pregnant. Unfortunately, they did everything they could, but you lost the baby when your pelvis was crushed.”

That was when she started sobbing intensely. Maybe I should have waited a day or two before I told her about losing the baby but I was sure it was on her mind. To find out that two major people in her life had been taken from her in one accident must have been horrible to try to come to grips with.

I left her cry and be alone for a while. It was several hours later, after she had dinner, that she finally turned to me and said, “I’m so sorry for what I’ve done to you. To see that you have stayed here with me after all I’ve done is amazing to me. I would be lost without you now. Please don’t leave me. Please stay and help me through this. Tough times make a marriage stronger and I don’t know how I’m going to make it without you. I need you now more than at any time in my life. After all of this, I’ve found out that I really do love you very much.”

I came over to the bed and held her hands. I said, “I will stay until you feel you want to go sleep with someone else and make a new baby with them. After then, I will be gone”

With tears running down her cheeks, she looked into my eyes and said, “I don’t think that will ever happen. I’m seeing a side of you I didn’t know was there. I want to stay and find another way to go forward with our lives together.”

I replied, “I think I’d like that too. I still love you very much.”

The next evening, Wednesday, after 7:00 pm, Richard’s wife Olivia came alone to talk to Dana. Dana had only briefly seen her in the past, and never spoken to her. Olivia sat in a chair next to Dana’s bedside and started. “I’m so sorry that I must talk to you at this time and in this place. I know you are not in very good shape to have someone come in and start asking you tough questions, but there are some things that I must know and it appears you are the only one that can answer them for me. Please, Dana, I don’t want you to sugarcoat anything. I want you to tell me straight out. I know that Richard has had several affairs during our marriage. I’ve known about some of them while they were going on and he always promised me that he would stop, but they just kept happening. I stayed with him for the kid’s sake and the fact that we had a nice home, all the money I needed, and he treated the family well. But, Dana, Richard had told me that he was going out of town this weekend on a business trip. That obviously wasn’t true as he was driving his Porsche he was so proud of with you in it on Saturday afternoon. You need to be truthful and honest with me. Did you stay with him on Friday night? “

Dana's face looked as if she was in great pain. Dana looked at her with very sorrowful eyes as she glanced down at her hands again, she muttered, “Yes, we spent Friday night together.”

The next question was, “How long have you been having sex with Richard.”

I listened intently to this answer, “We’ve been seeing each other for over four months.”

“Did he ever tell you that he was going to divorce me and marry you?”

“No, he never said he was going to do anything like that. I didn’t want that. I had a different reason to be seeing him other than to try to steal him away from you. I wanted him to be the father of my children. If you didn’t know, I was ten weeks pregnant with his baby when the crash happened last Saturday, but through the surgery and damage to my pelvis, I lost the baby.”

“So, you were pregnant by him when the crash happened? What were your plans of how the baby was to be raised?”

“Because my husband and I were headed for divorce, I was going to raise the baby by myself. I wasn’t going to insist on any support from my husband or from Richard. It was only this last Friday evening that I told Richard about me being pregnant with his child. He seemed to be happy that he had done what he was being requested to do for me. I didn’t want anything further from him for the baby or me. It was my baby and it was my responsibility.”

Olivia asked, “I can see that you are a headstrong woman and determined to do things your way. However, there is one thing that is bothering me. Why wouldn’t you want to have children with your own husband? He’s not bad-looking, looks to be in good physical shape, and you must have loved him enough to marry him and stay with him up till now. Why are you two splitting up?”

It took a little bit, but Dana finally looked up at her and said, “I have this vision of what I want my children to look like and the physical attributes that I would like them to have. When you brought your family into the office and visited Richard, I was absolutely enthralled with your children. They were my idea of what perfect children look like. Tall, strong, dark-haired handsome young men and poised, beautiful young girls. They are going to be a force to be reckoned with when they grow up wherever they go.”

Dana continued with, “Unfortunately, I wanted something that my husband can’t fulfill with his DNA. My husband is a good man and would make a wonderful father, but he wasn’t happy that I wanted someone else to be my sperm donor. He just couldn’t accept that he wasn’t good enough for me.”

“Yes, I can see how that would be a huge blow to any man – to find out that his wife doesn’t want to have his children. I’m surprised that he stayed with you as long as he did.”

“As I’ve already said, he’s a really good man and I still love him very much. He has already told me that he will stay with me until I’m healed enough to be able to take care of myself – which could be a year or more. Not many men will do that after what I’ve already done to him. I wish we could have found another answer to how to get the things I wanted in my children, without losing my husband.”

Olivia stood up and turned to look at me, “Phillip, you are an exceptional man. After everything she has put you through, are you still going to stay and take care of her until she can be on her own? If so, she doesn’t realize how good a man she has. My husband would never have done that for me.”

Turning back to Dana she said, “Treat this man well. I’m asking you to reconsider what you are giving up so you can have your fantasy of what you want your children to be like. Many average-height men have children that are taller than they are. A lot depends on what your DNA contains too. Remember, nutrition is a large part of how the child grows and develops. Be realistic in what you would be leaving behind with this man and your marriage.”

She squeezed Dana’s hand, then with more than a hint of grace and dignity in a very bad situation, with her coat on and purse over her arm, she strode out the door.

To be Continued in Part 2 of: “Wife does not want her husband to be the father of her children.”