Feeding An Addiction Part 3: Ch 11 free porn video

Scarsdale, New York: Sunday 31st March 2019

Hi, this is Sue.

Pete and I have argued long and hard over whether or not we should share the fuller story that he shared in abbreviated form in Chapter 10. I love Pete and understand why he only wanted to share an abbreviated version of my final night with Francis. After all the things that happened that night, Pete just wanted to draw a veil over everything and move on as fast and as painlessly as possible. That’s why Pete’s description of collecting me at the airport only ran to four sentences and forty words. He couldn’t bring himself to describe any more until we’d reached much happier times in March, just before the birth of Grace and James’ baby boy.

I understand his view, but from the earliest days after Francis’ departure I took a different view. Until recently it was academic, because certain legal discussions we were having with the hospital stopped us sharing anything more than a cursory description of events. But now that these discussions have reached a satisfactory end, we’re free to share a fuller picture.

As I say, Pete and I argued long and hard as to whether to share this fuller account. In the end Pete has finally come round to my way of thinking and so he’s supportive of what I’m about to share. By sharing this, some feelings and thoughts become more painful for me, some better. The same is true for Pete. But we agree that by sharing ‘the full picture’ we’ll hopefully strengthen and amplify the cautionary nature of our tale. Pete and I are genuinely happy to be expecting a new addition to the family, whatever the circumstances in which our little girl was conceived. But I’m sure as you read through our description of those last days, any couple reading this will think again before inviting a third person into their marriage.

When I read Pete’s last entries and there is stuff that he, being Pete has left out, for among other reasons, not wanting to sully anyone’s name, well I think some need it, including me. If you haven’t read it, please make sure you read his account of how our lives changed dramatically over the course of four years. If you haven’t read it, I caution you that this refers to events in that and jumps about a bit and there will be spoilers.

My description really falls into two parts.

Mine and Pete’s feelings and reactions after that dramatic Sunday morning in the hospital as Grace revealed the true extent and horror of what depths Francis had sunk to in his pursuit of a winning a life with me.

And secondly the full picture of what happened on that last night with Francis. As you see later, my personal recollections of what happened that night were hazy at best. I said ours is ultimately a cautionary tale, and the full events of that night couldn’t make that clearer. And with my hazy memory, I’m only able to fully describe this now because of a taunting video Francis shared with both Pete and me shortly after he arrived back in Nigeria.

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But I’m getting ahead of myself. Now Pete’s agreed to me sharing the fuller picture, I need to describe how I felt on and after that fateful Sunday morning as Grace revealed Francis’ treachery.

As events unfolded in that hospital room back in October, I was in a state of shock. I couldn’t believe that Francis would do something like this. I looked over at Pete and I think he was in the same state of mind and I’m really not sure how we got home that day. It was when we were in the safety of our home that it all finally hit me.

It wasn’t just the revelations of the day, it was everything that had happened over the last three and a half years, maybe even our descent over all our years together. On some level or other Pete and I had played the game ever since we were together, with the use of ‘named’ sex toys as we imagined me with Jared my ex and Sean the black pornstar. The narcissist in me loved the attention even then, but really the nurse in me should have seen Pete’s kink (and my accompanying growing obsession) for what it was far sooner. I’m embarrassed and ashamed that it took nearly losing him for my eyes to be opened.

I needed time, I needed to cry and scream, I needed to get everything straight in my head. Pete, ever patient, always putting my needs first gave me the time, I didn’t know how long it was when he knocked on the bedroom door and I hadn’t realized he had tried a number of times before. When I did let him in, he said nothing, just holding me and stroking my hair while I got myself into a place I could talk.

I couldn’t believe what had happened. That morning I had been surprised and overjoyed with the pregnancy result. You hear stories of people missing one pill and getting pregnant, and it seemed that I was like them. It had been less than four weeks since I had stopped taking the pill, so I must have fallen pregnant almost straight away, to get a positive result that Sunday morning.

All of that excitement had been forgotten when Grace fainted and with everything else that followed, with all the questions this raised as I sat there watching my world falling apart. As my panic and desperation built on that Sunday morning in the hospital, I was consumed by a whole host of questions.

Why hadn’t she said something earlier?

Why couldn’t we see through what had happened? I mean, for heaven’s sake, Pete and I tried or at least had unprotected sex for twenty years after Donovan, but nothing. Even after Winnie and Grace’s warnings that Francis would do whatever it took, we still missed it.

Why hadn’t Pete reacted in the hospital? James, who had only just found out about his involvement, had been the one to fight for us.

Why hadn’t I reacted?

What were the tears really about?

There was so much swirling around in my head, it was impossible to even get the questions straight, let alone sort out any answers. Now Pete was just holding me, and that just added more questions.

Why wasn’t he saying anything, hell he should be shouting at me?

How could he love me still, how could he trust me?

I’m carrying the child of a man who had turned out to have carried out monstrous acts. He had professed his love for me and his friendship for Francis and Grace and he betrayed us in the most vile way possible. How could Pete bear to see me, let alone live under the same roof. And how would he feel as I grew with that baby inside me?

Pete was Pete, the only thing that mattered to him was my health and happiness, and that I always come home to him. At that moment I loved him for it, but I also got so angry with him about it too. I guess my anger was at what other people see as weakness or passivity. I see it differently, as this is the side that would actually walk on burning coals and lay down his life for me. He wouldn’t be happy about it, but he would take the pain and suffering to ensure my happiness. My anger wasn’t that he would do these things, but that he would do them without challenging me or my motivation, something which a more classically masculine or assertive husband would have done, helping to protect me from myself. Beating myself up about my own behavior, sometimes during these days I shifted some of the blame from myself by thinking of how a different type of husband who would have helped protect me from myself. Maybe fifty percent of this was blame was unfair to Pete, but sometimes the grass always seems greener, right. As I look back now, I wouldn’t change Pete for any other man in the Universe, but I just think we were a dangerous fit for each other. Both too ready to play the game, with both of us only prepared to slam the breaks on when we are already over the cliff’s edge. Just like in the roadrunner cartoons, as Wile E. Cayote will testify, that’s a little too late!

It was also this anger I felt towards him that really started a new boulder rolling, one of realization about Pete and why he is like he is, and this also bred anger at myself that I had missed all these signs for nearly three decades.

It was another side of Pete that really shone through in those days after the hospital revelations from Grace. One that will dig through a mile of shit to find some good. He did this with Francis, extolling how the games had been on us, the decisions had been ours, we ultimately chose to allow me to get pregnant. In those days after the hospital drama but before my final night, Pete didn’t paint Francis as a saint. He called out the huge and monstrous things he’d done, but my husband insisted on putting it in the context of our role in the game and the love that Francis felt for me, a love I reciprocated.

At the time, a big part of me was happy for Pete’s pushing of this argument and view of Francis. What woman wants to believe she’s fallen in love with, been duped by and is carrying the child of a monster. Pete’s more balanced view avoided me having to face these painful truths.

But this view was one Pete and I went along with only before the events of that final night with Francis. After that final night, boy did Pete and I see the error of our ways and how wrong we’d been. We were happy to call out Francis for the man he truly was at that time. Not just a lovelorn man who’d played every card in his hand, and a few that he’d stolen. But in truth a man who was acting as a manipulative sociopath.

But in those after Grace’s revelation and before my final night with Francis, I also did a lot of reflecting and realized that I had become quite needy over the year of my affair with Francis. There was no getting away from the fact that Francis and the others I had had sex with were all good lovers and that I had eventually put Francis on a level with Pete. With hindsight I’m ashamed of this, but I can’t deny it’s true. This was the level to which I descended in my own addiction. An addiction that sadly matched that of my loving Pete, who was happy and excited to watch me play in this way.

The strange thing was that there must have been something missing as although Francis was better at sex and could pull out orgasm after orgasm from me, sex and love with Pete was never ever a let down, and often better because of our history and our love. Oh he still pulled an orgasm or two from me every time, but with him it was like a joining of the body and soul. And in my selfishness, I didn’t see this and nearly flushed it all down the toilet.

It’s incredible how a near miss can bring things into such a clear focus. My need was not for love, it was for something different. For the adventure and adrenalin from the games we played. My love for Francis was genuine. He was handsome, smart and charismatic, and he rocked my world in bed. Yet even when I ended up living half the week with him and trying to get pregnant with his child, my love for him was never as deep as my love for Pete. I knew this in my soul, but the novelty, excitement and adrenalin rush of my relationship with Francis made me lose site of this most important truth. I’d allowed it overshadow the deeper love I had for Pete. A man who was my soulmate and life partner. Had been for twenty plus years and was still playing that role whenever I thought of my future. Yet Pete and I, with our different but related addictions, had nearly lost sight of our love and let our addictions drag us into the abyss.

In those dark days between the hospital and my last meeting, I owned up to Pete that if it had not all blown up and Francis had asked me to go with him to Nigeria to raise his child, I would have seriously considered it. I mention this now to show just how blinkered I had become to everything else that was important, no, everything else that was far more important in my life. I look back now and know that if this had happened, Pete would have loved me forever, but the hurt in his eyes told me he would have struggled to forgive me and that it might well have crushed him. Deep down before the blow up, I knew I’d seriously consider it and I knew how it would likely impact Pete, but I justified it would be okay because he would have Grace and their child to focus on.

I’m sorry, writing this is hard and I need to break away every so often to shed more tears and to get myself together again. I’m not looking for sympathy and am sure I won’t get much, just some understanding for why my writing is a bit all over the place. I suppose I can be thankful that I’m not writing on paper as the ink would be running all over the place by now.

Pete kept on over the next few days after the hospital incident about how we were as much to blame, that Francis in his obsession for me had gone temporarily insane and so on. I stopped arguing after a while, it was pointless, Pete was not trying to excuse or apologize for him, he was trying to get his head around how someone could do this to their friends and loved ones. Again, that’s Pete, he could not grasp the fact that while it might have originally been friendships that had bought us together, for Francis this morphed into something totally different.

He was, as Pete put it, hardwired to get what he wanted at all costs and had always won so this messed him up in more ways than one. There was the need to have me all to himself, but he could not get his head around how I could not leave the ‘lesser’ man as he had put it on one occasion. This drove his determination to win to extremes. He just did not know how to lose, even as a child he never had and it was almost a childlike reaction but with the power and knowledge of an adult.

We had had a blazing row that night he described Pete as the ‘lesser’ man and I warned him never to try and put Pete down again if he wanted to even remain talking to me. Pete questioned why I had given up my regular visits that week and I put it down to an excessive theatre schedule.

I think when I stopped arguing with Pete about how he saw Francis, he took it as me agreeing with him about Francis behavior. Partly I was, because it suited me not to believe Francis was a monster. But deep down, because I spent so much more time with Francis than Pete did, and in such an intimate way, in my heart I knew how bad his need to have me had become. But like addicts the world over I pushed these inconvenient thoughts away and concentrated on getting my next rush and fix from our game and my relationship with Francis.

In those dark days after the hospital, I thought long and hard about terminating the pregnancy. I’ve never been one to foist my views on other, but because of the way I’d been brought up I had never been in favor of abortion. But as I thought about carrying Francis’ baby I seriously thought about termination it as this would cut all ties with him and give him no reason to contact us ever again. Pete was instrumental in helping me avoid a decision I know I’d have regretted. He knew we felt the same about abortion, but he knew I was thinking of it as a way to help save us, and save me from further pain. Finally, Pete’s assurance that we were safe got through and we were determined to make the best of this. To have the second child we’d always wanted.

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The second part I want to share gives a fuller description of what happened on that last night with Francis. Pete only shared about the part of it he directly saw, when Francis sent him a taunting FaceTime call. But sharing about other parts of that night is extremely painful for both me and Pete, so please bear with me as I explain all that happened that night, and in the immediate aftermath.

The important thing to understand is how I was feeling as we got to the end of that first week after the hospital events. Francis was heading back to Africa and I was all over the place emotionally. Pete got it right that after how things had blown up at the hospital I was grieving for my lost relationship and feelings for Francis. I had loved Francis and it felt like the person I loved had died in that hospital room that morning, but I still needed the funeral, I needed closure. When I heard that he was leaving imminently I felt the need to get that closure to bury the love I once had. Jenny had assured me that Francis had made all the right noises and was beside himself over losing me and our child, so it was with nerves about what Pete would think and say, but confidence that I could handle Francis that I asked if I could go see him one last time. Oh God, what a fool I was!!

After disappearing on one of his long walks, Pete agreed but thought that if I was comfortable doing it, it would be better to do this without him. There was no question that he would come or that he would drop everything and come later if I wanted him to. So that afternoon I got in my car and headed off to Francis’ place, knowing exactly what my conscious brain and half of my feelings told me I wanted to get from the meeting. Yet after going through so much, we really had not learnt enough. (Maybe that’s unfair to Pete. Pete’s the first to admit his faults, but in this instance it was me who hadn’t learned enough.)

If I’m totally honest, I drove across town with two very different sets of thoughts and emotions. At one level I wanted to tell Francis exactly what I thought of him and his actions, and to make him to do something practical to make recompense. But bubbling below the surface was the desire and maybe even need for one more last physical and emotional ‘goodbye’ for the man I was grieving for. The man who I thought I knew. The volunteer at the shelter, the kind and caring oncologist. The man who had died at the hospital that Sunday morning as Grace had read out the charge sheet and led the prosecution, before James exacted some old school retribution.

And it was a Sue who had her surface feelings mixed up with her below the surface emotions who banged on Francis door, and was quite surprised to see his face was still in as bad a shape as it was, but I tried not to show it, I needed to remain in control.

“Oh, it’s you?” he said, having pre-warned as I’d asked Jenny to act as an intermediary to let him know I was coming. He looked strangely excited to see me.

“We need to talk. I hear you’re going back to Nigeria tomorrow and there are things to be said and done.” This seemed to surprise and confuse him a little as maybe Jenny hadn’t told him what frame of mind I was in, but he regained his poise once more.

“Erm, I suppose you’d better come in. Would you like a drink?”

“No thanks, there are things that need doing, then maybe, after.”

“Look Sue, I’m rea..” CRACK!! This must have hurt Francis because my hand started stinging as soon as I slapped his face, but it felt good and reminded me of how I’d vented by anger on Brandon three years back.

“Don’t, don’t you dare!! Do not apologize, do not think you can get around me with words! I despise what you did, I am not here to for an apology, it’s too late for that!” He didn’t respond, just hung his head.

“Okay what you have done is despicable, but it is done. You have left me and a young girl expecting babies because of your manipulations. Now you’re packing your bags and running away. I thought you were a man of honor, but you’ve proven that wrong once already, how about changing my mind.”

“What do you want from me Sue, I promise never to contact you or Grace again. Is that it?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of some sort of fund, Pete and I will be okay, we have decent jobs, but at the end of the day this is your child so you should pay at least some towards it’s future and I want it in writing that you acknowledge you cannot be the father of this child, you are doing this a parting gift from a friend. And you are setting up a fund for Grace to help her and James not just with their child’s future but with its upbringing.”

There was no argument from Francis. “I agree, Sue. I want that someday you’ll maybe see me in a different light. Realize I was insane with love for you, and that’s why I did these terrible things which I can never condone. If I can one day change your mind, well, that will be enough for me.”

I was pleasantly surprised at his reaction. I’d been expecting a fight, but instead I saw just the smallest of glimmers of the man I’d loved.

So, we spent the next hour online I set up two trust funds into which Francis deposited the money he made from the sale of his house as he would be moving into Winnie’s old one. I had him spilt it a third and two thirds in favor of Grace and James which left $100,000 to mature for eighteen years when the child I was carrying would head off to college. I thought Pete and I were in a good enough place to cover the costs of bringing the child up.

Once this was all done, we talked and it was a strange mixture of remorse from Francis and reminiscing about happier times and some of the great memories we had. Our first night dancing, some of the things we’d seen at the shelter. The time we’d shared in Lagos. We must have talked for a good hour, and at the end of it I was feeling genuinely nostalgic and sad about what we’d had and what we’d lost due to Francis’ actions.

I saw the same look in Francis’ face. But being Francis, he had to go further.

“Sue, tell me, is there any chance for us? Even after everything, is there any chance for you and me?

I looked at him, and I can’t deny the embers of feelings were still there, but I told him the truth. “No, Francis. The man I loved died in that hospital room a week ago, when I realized what that man would do. How he’d hurt and manipulate.”

A strange look came over Francis’ face. “I understand, Sue. But I had to ask. It breaks my heart to think of you here with our child, and me in Nigeria. Away from you and not knowing our child. Will you at least have a farewell drink with me?”

I accepted as a parting kindness and Francis disappeared to his drinks cabinet and poured us both drinks. He then raised his glass. “Let’s drink to you and Pete, and to a safe and happy pregnancy.”

It struck me as a lightly strange toast, but I raised my glass and drank.

We chatted a while more and it seemed only natural to carry on sipping at my drink. I began to feel a bit strange, but at the time I put it down to the stress of the last week. We’d been talking for maybe thirty minutes and I’d pretty much finished my glass, and I was feeling strangely light headed.

Francis had been to the restroom and walked up behind me. My memory of what happened next is pretty hit and miss, but I remember feeling his strong hands massaging my shoulders. I remember thinking it felt good, and I remember Francis saying that we should make love one last time before he flew out of my life. I just about remember saying ‘no’, that I didn’t want this. But then the rest of the next few hours is a blur to me.

Virtually the last memory I have is getting up to go and Francis pulling me in for a kiss. I’m sure many people trying to give up smoking will tell you similar, they pick a cigarette out of habit because it feels comfortable, safe, familiar. Yet those determined to give up also know how wrong what they are doing really is, so will light up the cigarette and think ‘tomorrow I will give up’, others will put it down or even throw it away. As he was leaning down to kiss me, I pushed him back trying to break from his hold, I was trying to throw the cigarette away. I remember trying to slap him again and him grabbing my wrist saying we should have another drink.

I’m not really sure what happened next. Of course Pete described to me what he saw from Francis’ taunting FaceTime call. Of how Francis and I made love, and I seemed to be totally into it.

A few days after Francis left, he emailed a video to both Pete and me of what happened after the Facetime call had ended. It turns out that after his last solo farewell love-making with me, designed more to taunt Pete than anything else, he’d arranged a gangbang for me.

From the intro he narrated at the beginning of the video, he made his motives clear. He said that if he couldn’t have me, he wanted to give me a farewell gift. With acid dripping from his mouth, his commentary reminded us of my night with the three porters. And he said that as I wouldn’t leave Pete for him, he’d decided that my farewell present should be a night with twice as many men as I’d enjoyed on ‘the night of the porters’ as he called it. His anger and jealousy dripping from every word he spoke.

Apart from what I saw in the video (which I’m too embarrassed to describe), I only have vague memories and dreams about all the men that night and what they did to me, and then of being at the airport and Pete offering me my passport, then I was in hospital and finally I woke up properly on Sunday afternoon. My mouth felt like a family of dogs had slept in it and I had sore boobs, pussy and bum, what the hell had Francis done?

I had a quick shower and when I came out Pete was sat on the bed waiting for me looking very worried, as well he might. I just raised an eyebrow at him. He got up and hugged me so tight and led me over to sit on the bed. He explained how he had expected my ‘closure’ to be a farewell fuck and much as it galled him, he had agreed thinking ‘if you love her, let her go…’ Then he told me of the video call from Francis and finally that he had received the text ‘from me’ to meet him at the airport.

He said he had cried most of the drive to the airport, thinking this was it and that is why he turned up and just gave me my passport, something he was embarrassed to mention in his description.

It was when I didn’t react either to walk away or to hug him or even shout at him for assuming the worst, that he knew something was wrong. He had been too overwhelmed to look at me properly when he handed it to me, but when he did my eyes were glassed over and I wasn’t focusing on him.

It was then he rushed me to the hospital, not mine and when they got me into a gown and saw the state of my back, they got a rape kit and did a full examination. Not only did I have welts all over my back, I had bites on my tits and tearing to both my vagina and anus. I tested positive for cocaine, ecstasy and rohypnol and when they tested the sperm in me, it turns out there were six different types.

At the time we tried to work out who it might be, but when Francis’ video arrived his introduction told us not to bother trying to find the other five guys who’d ‘enjoyed me’, as they were all sailors on a Nigerian oil tanker and were already long gone and out at sea in international waters.

In the video we saw Francis tell the five sailors how I’d be going to Nigeria with him. He explained about the three porters and how my husband had enjoyed watching, adding that this was a last group fuck to punish the lesser man for thinking he could stop a Nigerian man , one of their own, taking me.

Obviously without my passport, even in my drugged and compliant state he couldn’t get me on the plane, so dumped me at the airport.

From his conversations with Jenny, he knew that I was coming that Saturday night, and he determined that he’d either persuade me to go to Nigeria with him, or have his final farewell ‘taunt fuck’ broadcast to Pete, before upping the game with the videoed gangbang with him and the five Nigerian sailors.

What has taken a few sentences to write took Pete and I many days and weeks to talk through and come to terms with. This is also when we determined that over the past four years we had kidded ourselves about communicating, it had always been done with half reasons and assumptions.

If I’d communicated better and explained to Pete that my plans were to get some sort of recompense for the babies and be home that night, then he would have known the call from Francis was wrong and called the police there and then and come round himself. If he had explained that he thought my request was for a farewell fuck, I could have corrected him and he would have known the video call was wrong. Hell, if he had just said “See you tomorrow” when I left, it may have alerted me to his expectations and again I could have corrected him. Whichever way, we would have saved us both the suffering that we went through that night and subsequent months.

We have vowed that nothing will ever go assumed or unsaid between us again. Another positive from this is we were given full support by the hospital to help us through this.

Of course it was a tortuous process. They were planning on hushing it up and paying compensation. But then some junior in the legal office thought they could pin the blame all on me and Pete and save themselves the compensation. Of course, it was a high stakes game of Russian Roulette. They were banking on us not wanting to ruin our reputations in public.

But as I’ve stopped working there to concentrate on our impending arrival, and Pete bluffed a great game, in the end the hospital backed down. They paid a large settlement, to avoid the embarrassment, and also provided counselling for the rape, marriage counselling and CBT for Pete’s self-esteem which is helping us deal with a lot of issues. As part of the agreement for the settlement, we had to agree to forego pushing for any prosecution of Francis, the hospital or the sailors. As the hospital was understandably concerned about reputational damage, even if what happened was really all on Francis.

In terms of getting justice it felt wrong to agree to this, we knew that in all practical terms there was no way Francis was ever going to come back to the USA, where he would risk all kinds of legal jeopardy, especially with the evidence from the video. Plus, though Pete’s friend Nick at the UK Anti-Terrorist Squad, Francis had been inserted into the no-fly list and would face an interesting reception if he ever dared try and enter the USA again. So reluctantly we took the large financial settlement, using it for the future of the two babies.

I suppose that leaves a couple of questions still. Over the time from the Sunday hospital revelations and my last night with Francis to now it has taken a lot of talking, introspection, soul searching and counselling to get us to where we are now and I’m still not sure of all of it.

First of all, why did we not react in the hospital? Simply put we were both in total shock, shock at the revelation, shock at watching what we were both in our own ways coming to see as the new normal collapsing around us, shock that Grace had kept it a secret for so long, shock at what James did. Pete is not a violent man, but I think if James had not done what he did this would have been the one occasion when Pete would have struck out, like he did with Brandon.

We have since had long talks with Grace, even including her in one of our counselling sessions and while she was scared for her family, the fainting fit was beyond her control and she felt it was her ancestors pushing her to take action. We were both very angry about what she had done and that she had not felt comfortable to confide in us, but with talking and understanding came forgiveness. Once again, we started to feel protective toward her and came to think of her and James as surrogate children. Pete told me that he had used some of his contacts in Africa to ensure Grace’s family would be as safe as possible. He wouldn’t tell me the details, “Sorry my love, if I tell you…”

“You’ll have to shoot me?” I had cut in with a smile on my face.

“No, but someone else might…”. The look on Pete’s face was deadly serious and to be completely honest this frightened me. “…just know that he knows he’s being watched.”

Next, why did Pete talk positively about Francis after the hospital revelations and allow me to go to him, especially expecting me to stay the night. As I have said, some of it was down to his self-esteem issues, the other part was he was still terrified of me leaving with Francis. He thought it he spoke badly of Francis it would push me more and more to him and felt he had failed totally with the events of that Saturday night. Yet even through all this his voice said it was exactly what he should have expected, he had had an excellent run with me and should be grateful for that. Thankfully now he is understanding that his childhood fears and concerns are just those and although they should not be forgotten they should be left there. There were of course some arguments from him about his size and low sperm count, but again this is being worked through, after all he did father Donovan and was an excellent father and as a lover he is always attentive and caring there has never been an occasion he has entered me before I orgasm, a habit built from his insecurity of his size. Thinking back, I wonder if any of my bigger lovers would have actually cared if I had an orgasm or not or if they were just a by-product.

I bet many are asking why Pete never mentioned any of this. And the truth is, it’s a mix of reasons. He couldn’t mention some of the details of my last night with Francis until we finalized our recent settlement with the hospital, part of the final agreement being we can now talk about that night provided we make clear it had nothing to do with the hospital and agree not to push or support any prosecutions.

But aside from this he just wanted to draw a veil over things as quickly and quietly as possible. In Pete’s mind, my feelings were still far too raw. Pete wrote the final part of our story quickly and in a hurry to draw a line under it. But for me, guided by our counsellor, while I have cried, screamed, stared into space, deleted it umpteen times, deleted chunks and rewritten them and even now there is loads that I must be missing, I’ve found writing this down cathartic and a help in the healing process. It was very typical of Pete to do what he did, trying to protect me, but in the end he’s agreed t me sharing this as he can see it’s helping my healing.

And of course the other reason he didn’t want to share the full story of the last night was that every time he thinks of this he feels sad and a failure that he couldn’t protect me from what happened. No husband wants to feel like that, especially not one with insecurity issues.

Finally, let me clear something up. In my previous contribution it said that Francis was and is a wonderful man. I stand by what I wrote, but I know I need to explain it too.

Up to the point that he let his obsession take over, he was kind, gentle, caring man, an excellent doctor and talented lover. He was a wonderful man.

Then it all went to hell in a handbasket as you are all now aware.

Pete’s contacts have kept him informed and he has updated me with the pertinent information. We have learnt that Francis has set up a foundation in Nigeria using money he inherited from Winnie, whose sole purpose is to sponsor and support the training of nurses in both his and Grace’s countries. This year he will sponsor one from each and is hoping to gain support from corporations operating in Africa so that he can expand this to more nurses and hopefully more countries.

After the wakeup call of losing everything he had in New York and the knowledge that he can no longer come to America to see his children, he has now reassessed his life and goals and is putting his energies to good. Hopefully with this venture he won’t accept losing. I could never say he is still wonderful; my original line was he was a wonderful man and is now doing a wonderful thing. Pete edited my entry, to my disgust, as there was still too much to write and he wanted to try and tell the story in a linear fashion without giving away anything before its logical place. What Francis is now doing is wonderful for those young men and women that it helps.

This isn’t a softening towards Francis, I can still never forgive what he did and if ever I was to see him again, I would want to tear his eyes out, but maybe some good came of it.

Our daughter is now imminent and our lawyers have said that the moment she is born a petition will be put in with the courts to have Pete listed as adoptive father. The story we have been telling is that I have agreed to be a surrogate for Grace using her egg and James’ sperm, as they were having issues. After the last procedure it was found she had fallen naturally, but too late to stop anything and mine had taken. As they were still a young couple and one child would have been too much, Pete and I had a long conversation and decided to adopt her. We have spoken with Donovan about all of this, he has read the entire story, including my time with James, which was hard. He was shocked, but we told him the truth, including Brandon and the end with Francis. Rightly he called us a pair of stupid fools and hoped we had learned our lessons. He then hugged us both and told us through three sets of tears that he loved us more than anything (nearly) and looked forward to having an ‘adoptive’ sister. While he was home, he asked Kate to marry him and she said yes, the four of us are looking forward to taking our babies to their wedding in Oxford next year.

(Author’s note: One of the joys of the Lush family is how readers and friends get quite worked-up about what is to come, what’s left unsaid and what should have been. This addition is a valuable addition to the end of the Addiction series, telling the end part of the story from Sue’s viewpoint. This was mostly written by Kiteares, and when I read it I loved it. Within reading the first few paragraphs, I’d forgotten it wasn’t part of the original and was enjoying it as if it was really Sue talking to me. I’ve made a few small tweaks, but this is mostly Kite’s work. So to all readers, please consider this the ‘official’ and better end to the story – until the sequel! Thanks Kiteares, Rawraw.)

(P.S. I’ve published this under my name to keep the links and make it easier for people to find, with Kite listed as just a collaborator. But this is mostly Kite’s work. All Lushites, please join with me in encouraging Kite to use his obvious talents to write for us!”)