I fully acknowledge my weakness, but I think Janine has a share in the shattering of my vows to her. I’d only had that one fling back in college—with Phil. But Chet and Phil had had an affair after college, and now Chet was living in the next acreage to ours. Obviously Phil and Chet had talked about me, and Chet knew all about me before he moved here, because he had made quite clear to me that he wanted me and knew that I had an addiction to what he could provide. He was one hunk of a man, but I’d left that behind me—had convinced myself it was just youthful experimentation, and short-lived at that—and I was devoting my life to Janine.

I had done everything I could to avoid Chet, who had gotten quite direct in his approach, but it had been Janine herself who set up that fatal day. I had taken off from work to pull a couple of stumps out at the lower end of our yard. Janine was off that week for a visit to her mothers and had pressured me not to work out there alone. I had resisted her suggestions, and, unbeknownst to me, she had asked Chet if he could come down to help me. He obviously was delighted to help.

So there we were, standing next to each other in the driveway in our work clothes, waving gaily to Janine as she drove off, doing all we could to act like there was no nervous tension just under the surface, ready to explode.

I would still see the tail end of her car, and Chet was still waving when he said, in a husky voice, “Let’s go into the house.”

“God, no, Chet. We’ve been all over that. I’m going down to work on those stumps. You can go on home. I’ll just tell Janine you were a great help.”

“That’s what I want, Rick. I want to be a great help to you.”

“Help? God, Chet, how can you help? I’ve made a choice, and the only help you could be is just to stay the hell away from me.”

“I’ve seen how you’ve looked at me,” Chet replied. “I know you want it as much as I want you.”

“I’m going in the house to get a couple of beers, Chet. It’s a real hot day. When I come out, I’d like you to be walking back to your house. I have to get to those stumps.”

“It looks like rain. And, you’re right; it’s hot as hell out here. Not really a day for this; a day to be relaxing in the house.”

“Bye, Chet,” I said, and I went back into the house and took four beers out of the fridge. Then I thought of the ax and being alone down there with the tree stumps and I put one back.” I walked back out of the house, and Chet was gone. What a relief. He was right. No matter what I did to try to stay on the straight and narrow, I ached for him. I tried my best not to admit it, but there it was. I wished that Chet hadn’t moved here at all. Everything was going fine until he showed up.

I walked down to the end of the yard, but I could hear the chopping noises before I even got to the garden shed down there. And I