STORY SUMMARY: The internal thoughts and memories of a man who has been fool enough to make the biggest mistake of his life. A bit more has been added to the story since the Contest Version was posted.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: The author does not own any publicly recognizable entities herein. No copyright infringement is intended.

Statue of a Fool

Observer:

Looking out over the expanse of the park, we see the usual items – a playground with children playing on the swings, slide, teeter-totter, sandbox, and monkey bars. Mothers and baby sitters are sitting on the benches lining the playground, talking, laughing, reading, needlework, and interacting with the playing children.

An older woman has stopped at the drinking fountain in the middle of the junction of the park's walking paths to give her Golden Retriever a drink. Being thoughtful, she has pulled out a plastic bowl from her purse to hold the dog's drinking water. She smiles to herself, remembering a similar drinking fountain from her youth, she steps on the pedal at the fountain's base and drinks slowly and deeply from the cool water bubbling up from the middle of the fountain's bowl. An older gentleman waits patiently for her and the dog. He and the lady have been married for many a decade but nowhere near long enough for either of them.

A man and his son are running a radio controlled boat on the small duck pond, the young boy giggling as he tries, unsuccessfully, to chase the ducks with the boat.

We see a man sitting on a park bench under a tree. His elbows are on his knees, his hands are folded together between his knees, his back is hunched over his arms and he's looking at the ground a few feet in front of him. Occasionally he wipes his hand over his eyes, trying to hide the tears that quietly escape from them. He looks across the park towards the city, at the statue of a man on a rearing horse. He wonders what a statue similar to that one would cost and what it would take to get it set in a prominent location in the park. Maybe other men would see the statue and its inscription and not make the same mistake he has made. Through his selfishness, he has destroyed the love of his life, his family, and any happiness he had hoped to have. Mutilated would be a better word for what he has done.

Christian:

Why? Why did I do it? I have no valid reason or good excuse for being or acting so fucking stupid. How could I do that to my wife, my reason for living, my Ana? How could I do that to my children? To Mom? To Dad? To everyone that loves, make that loved, me? Just for a few hours of selfish, self-centered pleasure.

Yeah, she was beautiful, bigger than I normally prefer but still beautiful. Standing about 5'8" and weighing around 140, maybe 150, pounds, with long, dark brown hair and deep, penetrating eyes, she was a knockout and I wanted her. I wanted her like I've not wanted a woman since Ana stumbled into my life. Wanted her I did, and being THE Christian Grey, I got her. The biggest damned mistake I have ever made. Why did I do it? I keep asking myself that question but cannot come up with an answer. Even the expensive charlatan has been unable to help me find that answer.

How and where we met wasn't and isn't important, but meet we did. Interestingly, I remember hearing church bells ringing in the distance when Sable and I met. I now realize they were tolling out the demise of all I held sacred. She was unattached and lonely and I was feeling unappreciated and ignored by my family. Our union mended both things for us. It filled what was empty in us. It screwed me royally.

Once we admitted our mutual attraction, it was easy for us to start meeting secretly at Escala a couple of afternoons each week, and an occasional weekend evening. Not wanting to give Ana, or anyone else for that matter, any reason to become suspicious, I would have long "working lunches" or evening "dinner meetings" or appointments with Flynn. Escala was the perfect place for these meetings. Nothing was out of the ordinary to the onlooker. Our trysts left us relaxed, satisfied, and looking forward to our next time. We experimented, explored, created, and learned more and more about each other. Me, I was developing feelings for Sable, strong feelings. Being me, I thought Sable felt the same way about me. I was wrong.

It got to the point that a couple of afternoons and an occasional evening just was not cutting it for me. I needed and wanted more. I started questioning my marriage and rethinking my life with Ana, questioning my love for her and hers for me, and wondering if I still needed/wanted her as much and in the same way as I had. My answer always came back, "No. Sable was who and what I needed and wanted." My decision was made. I will never forget and will always regret that decision. May God have mercy on my soul for what I have done.

Sable and I were just recovering from a thorough, long, thirst-quenching afternoon of deeply satisfying love making when I decided to follow through with my decision. We were snuggled together, almost comatose from our satisfaction and relaxation. Our conversation is indelibly burned into my memory.

I tighten my hold on her, pulling her closer, enjoying the feel of her head on my chest. "Sable, I'm going to divorce Ana. I love you and want you to be my future. I will, of course, give Ana anything she wants but, once I'm free, I want us to get married. You are to be my future."

Taking me by surprise, she pulled away from me and raised up on her elbow, looked me straight in the eye. "What the HELL!? Marry? Why? We have a good thing going for us so why mess it up?" She sat up, threw her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She turned, in all her beautiful naked glory, and just stared at me, mouth open, shaking her head at me. I sure did not expect this reaction. I'm dumbfounded. She turned and headed for the bathroom, me right behind her. Watching her tight, firm ass gave me a hard on. "Now is not the time, junior." I thought to myself.

She peed, wiped herself, flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and then turned to me. "Christian, there's no way in hell I would marry you. I'm a one-man-woman and I will settle for no less than a one-woman-man and, honey, that ain't you."

Gritting my teeth, I spat out, "What the hell does that mean? I've always been faithful in all my relationships and always will be."

"Oh, really?" she purred, fists on hips. "If you're so monogamous, why are you here? Why have you been with me for days on end for weeks while your wife is waiting for you at home?" She sighed deeply, closed her eyes, dropped her head, gave it a small shake, and then lifted her eyes back to mine. "Christian, I'm very fond of you, I may actually love you, but you need to understand, you're just a side piece until someone better comes along."

I was furious, red hot anger shot through me. "A fucking side piece?" I bellow out.

Calmly, she tilted her head to the side, smiled a small smile, used a soft, slow voice as you would use for a child, "Yes, Sir, a literal FUCKING side piece. You know, the piece you have on the side, the piece you don't want anyone to know about? And tell me, did you honestly think I would want a full time man that cheats? Honey, if you'll play with me, you'll play on me and THAT I won't tolerate. I deserve more than that and will accept no less. Now, it's time for me to get dressed and home. Christian, it's been fun and I thank you for the experience." She turned, walked out of the bathroom, pulled the door closed behind her, left me speechless, wondering what had just happened.

I couldn't let her have the upper hand in this so, I rushed back into the bedroom. She was almost dressed and I couldn't help looking at her physical perfection, remembering all the pleasure and fun I had and shared with that body. But, "Sable, I need to remind you of the NDA you've signed. You can't tell anyone about anything we've done or said. Do you understand?"

She smiled, licked her lips, and looked down as though contemplating something. Looking up, looking directly into my eyes, she smirked. "Thank you for reminding me, Christian. I do remember the NDA and now I have one for you to sign, too." Reaching into her rather large purse, she pulled out an envelope. After opening the envelope, she pulled out a couple sheets of paper, handed them to me, asking me to compare both copies, to verify for myself that they are identical. Once I did that, she handed me a pen, a cheap, discount store pen, and asked me to sign and date each copy above the line at the bottom, the line with my name, Christian Trevelyan Grey, typed under it. Also, I was to initial on a line below my typed signature that I verified that both copies of the NDA were the same and that each of us got a signed, dated copy. I signed, dated, initialed and handed both copies back to her. She looked them over, held both out to me and said, "Pick one." I did and she folded the remaining copy up and put it back into her purse. She handed the empty envelope to me, for me to keep my copy of the NDA in, I assumed.

"Now, just to confirm for both of our understanding, neither of us are to acknowledge our mutual involvement in any venture, personal, private, public, or business related. If we should meet in a social or business arena, we are just meeting for the first time. If asked, neither of us has met the other in the past. To put it bluntly, we are strangers if and/or when we meet in the future. Do you agree? Any questions, Christian?" She stood, awaiting my response.

What could I say? I had just confessed my love for her and the next thing I knew she was sending me – ME, Christian Trevelyan Grey – on my way - the same way I had ended my contracts with my subs. "Yes, Sable, I agree to all the terms. If we should meet or run into each other again, I have absolutely NO idea who you are. But, I do have a question. What the hell happened?"

She shook her head, chuckled and said, "You broke the cardinal rule – you fell in love. That was the deal breaker. Good bye, Christian." She opened the door, turned, and continued quietly, "Also, if I ever, EVER hear you have broken the NDA in any way, for any reason, under any circumstance, I will sue your ass and anything else you may have, off." She walked out the door leaving it standing wide open. I then realized I was sitting there in all my natural glory and tears were welling up in my eyes.

After a bit, the shock of what had happened wore off and I quickly rinsed off the smells of sex and Sable in the shower, dressed, and headed home to my wife and children, to my home on the Sound.

I got home earlier than normal. Ana met me at the door with a smile and kiss on the cheek. Teddy and Phoebe came screaming, "Daddy", and just about took me down when they both launched themselves at me, catching me around the knees and thighs. The house was alive with life being lived, dinner was perfect, the kids chattering up a storm about school, their friends, teachers, and wanting a dog. Ana sat across from me. My beautiful, loving Ana. Even though she was eating and interacting with us, she seemed a little preoccupied, a little out of the ordinary quiet. After dinner, Ana and I cleaned up the table and kitchen, loaded and ran the dishwasher, put the leftovers away, wiped down the stove, counters, and table. Normally, Gail would do that but on the days I would see Sable, I would give Gail and Taylor time off so they could have some time for themselves. Yeah, Taylor knew about Sable and what was going on and why they got the time off to be together. I don't know if Gail knew or not. I really didn't want to know what she knew or, didn't know.

Later, after Teddy and Phoebe were bathed, tucked into bed, read to, and sound asleep, Ana and I sat in the library, Ana's library, enjoying a glass of excellent wine, and just chatting about nothing of significance. She still seemed a bit off, though. Finally, after concern and curiosity got the better of me, I had to ask, "Ana, is something bothering you?"

Sitting her glass down on the side table, she glanced down to the floor, took a deep breath, and, "Christian, Is there something I need to know about?"

Panic started to set in on me. What does she mean? Does she know about Sable? How could she know? No, it has to be something else. I decide to play dumb. "No, Ana, not that I know of. Why do you ask?"

"I swung by Escala earlier this week. I was on my way to see Dr. Greene, but nature was calling and I haven't been feeling all that well for the past few weeks and I just needed a few down-time minutes. I noticed that someone had been in there, making themselves right at home, even in the bedroom. Anyway, back to where I started, Dr. Greene ran a couple of tests, and Christian, you have given me one of the most unexpected gifts ever. Can you guess what that gift is?" She says, turning to fully face me.

My heart leaped for joy. No, she can't be! Can she? Is she? Again? When? I had a face-splitting smile on my face and took her hands in mine, wanting to jump for joy. Shaking my head in disbelief, I cupped her cheek with my hand, "No, Baby, I can't but I do hope it's what I'm thinking. You're pregnant?"

Out of the blue, her face was furious, her voice sharp and painful, and her hand made contact, hard contact, with the side of my face. "You stupid, son-of-a-bitch asshole! You've given me gonorrhea, gonorrhea of the throat, vagina, AND anus. You've made it around the world with your little gift." She drew her hand back again, but I caught her wrist before she was able to swing it at me.

I lost it. I took both her wrists in my hands, she struggled to free herself from my grip but was unable to. I was so angry all I could see was red. "What the hell to you mean? Gonorrhea? How in the fuck did you get THAT shit?" I snarled at her, squeezed her wrists so tightly my hands began to hurt. Shaking her, I scream, "Who've you been fucking, you cheap tramp. Tell me and tell me now before I hurt you. I will kill the motherfucker!"

"Christian, you're hurting me. Let me go, Christian." Then, all I heard was a blood curdling scream that went on and on. The door burst in and Taylor, with Gail right behind him, charged in. He grabbed my wrists, trying to get my hands from around Ana's wrists. The next thing I know is I felt something, something hard, hit the side of my head, knocking me unconscious. Somehow or other, Ana got loose from me. Thank God.

How long I was out, I have no idea but when I did come to, Ana was in Gail's arms sobbing hysterically. My head hurt like something I'd never felt before or after. Taylor stood over me, ready for any action I might take. Slowly sitting up, holding my head, I looked at Taylor and asked him what happened. Why was my head hurting? Who hit me and with what and could I have a couple of ibuprofen? It seems Gail has quite a swing and books are very hard. I sincerely thanked her but hope never to cross HER again.

Things calmed down and Ana and I continued our conversation, with Taylor and Gail observing. I requested their presence in case I flipped out again. Gail was thumbing through a rather large, hardcover book – War and Peace, maybe?

Ana kept insisting I tell her who I had been seeing, for how long, how seriously, what she looked like. Her questions seemed to go on and on and on and . . . . But I did remember the NDA I had signed earlier that evening so couldn't say much, actually, I couldn't say anything. What I was able to tell her was how long and what she looked like. I felt she needed the truth so when she asked me about my feelings for the slut, I had to be honest and tell her that I was in love with the other person.

Then, Ana dropped the bombshell on me, "You will be hearing from the CDC and they will want a full and complete list of ALL your sexual contacts within the past several months – names, addresses, and phone numbers. They already have my huge list of one." SHIT! Now what do I do? Give the information when asked and take a chance of being sued? Do I notify her directly and let her know she has a STD? The phrase, ". . . in any way, for any reason, under any circumstances, I will sue your ass and anything else you may have, off," kept repeating through my brain. SHIT! Sometimes life just really sucks, and I had better speak with an attorney right away. I excused myself and called Dad. He wasn't too overly pleased with the subject of, or reason for, my call.

Dad said that I'm required by law to make full disclosure to the CDC but the NDA is also legally binding. His recommendation was I contact Sable directly and let her know about the gonorrhea and her need to get tested and treated. If she doesn't comply with my request, I give the CDC her information and then I take my chances with the courts if Sable should sue.

Ana and I did not share a bed or room that night. I really couldn't blame her.

The next morning, the first thing I did was get on the phone and make arrangements to see my doctor, get tested, and treatment started. The testing seemed superfluous to me but went along with it anyway. Since Ana had already been diagnosed with gonorrhea, doc went ahead with the treatment while waiting for the test results. Good thinking, doc. I was embarrassed to know that his office staff knew why I was there, and I don't do embarrassed. I guess I do now.

After my uncomfortable visit with my doctor, I went to the office and spent the rest of the work day behind a closed door worrying what was going to happen next. Little did I know I was up Shit Creek with no paddle or life jacket. I needed my wife, my kids, my home.

Normally, I would work until I had everything well in hand and under control but today was just not normal. Letting Taylor know I was ready to leave, I cleared off my desk, locked it and my file drawers, got my coat and briefcase and took the elevator to the lobby. Taylor was waiting for me with the SUV at the front door. I got in the SUV, fastened my seatbelt, leaned my head back on the seat headrest, and closed my eyes. That's all I remember until I hear Taylor exclaim, "What the fuck!" Opening my eyes, I just asked what the matter is and he informed me that the codes to the manor's main gates didn't work. What the Fuck?!

Taylor pressed the gate intercom button and waited. Soon an unknown voice came through the intercom, saying, "How may I help you?" Taylor identified himself and his passenger and demanded admittance. After a brief pause, the voice came back and said that Taylor and his passenger was not to be granted access to the property. Sliding to the front of my seat, leaning over Taylor's shoulder, I nodded to Taylor and he, again, pressed the intercom button. Again, the unknown voice answered, "How may I help you?" "This is Christian Grey. If you want to keep your fucking job you will open this gate IMMEDIATELY!". Again, that shitty voice - "Sir, you are not to be granted access to the property."

I jerked my phone out of my pocket, almost ripped the pocket off my coat, I hit Ana's number on speed dial. The phone rang several times before Ana answered, her voice tight and low, "Yes, Christian?"

"Anastasia, what the fuck is going on? Let me in and let me in NOW!"

"Christian, all the codes for the house have been changed and all the locks, as we speak, are being changed. YOU no longer live here thus are not to be on the property." Again, that tight, low voice. SHIT!

"Ana, let me in or I will tear the gates down and you and everyone else will be sorry. So Let. Me. In!" I heard a goddamned chuckle from the intercom.

"Calm down, Christian, before you have a stroke. All of your things, personal and private, have been moved to Escala, you know, you're little playhouse. Now, you can play house all you want and won't need to worry about us. Taylor, please take him home to his playhouse." I heard a "click" indicating the intercom was off. That day could not get any worse, or so I thought.

Taylor and I arrived at Escala, parked in one of my many reserved spaces, and took the private elevator to the penthouse. While I waited in the foyer, which was crowded with boxes, luggage, and full trash bags – trash bags? - Taylor checked the apartment. Upon his return, giving me the "all clear", I ventured into the kitchen. I needed a drink and I needed it NOW. The wine cooler was down to one bottle, the fridge was mostly bare except for some old milk, butter, jelly, and beer. I wondered how long it would take Gail to restock it. I was feeling a bit hungry.

Taylor made an appearance in the kitchen, laid the SUV keys on the breakfast bar. "Sir, it appears you will need to change your bedding before going to bed tonight. I've arranged for Sawyer to pick me up so that the SUV will be available for your use. Unless, there's anything else you need, I'll wait downstairs for Sawyer." What the hell did that mean?

"Taylor, what the hell do you mean?" I asked him, afraid of his answer.

His reply was as bad as I feared. "Sir, your bed is unmade and appears there are quite a few stains on the sheets and covers. Since Gail has chosen to stay with Mrs. – uh – Ana, my place is by my wife's side. I'm now employed by Ana. Have a good evening, Sir." With that, he turned, walked and left me wondering what just happened.

No food in the house, a dirty bed, and a foyer filled with who knows what, what could I do? Yep, call my Mommy, and call my Mommy I did. Needless to say, Mom wasn't at all happy with me. Dad had filled her in on what I had been up to and now learned Ana had kicked me out of our home, Mom was pissed but did come to my rescue by asking me to come stay with them for a few day, until I could get my living arrangements straightened out. I took her up on it.

While on my way to Mom and Dad's, my cell rang. The caller ID flashed my Doctor's name. I had to take his call. Seems I did have gonorrhea, a drug resistant strain at that. I was just going to have to call Sable and let her know about the gonorrhea and the CDC. She wouldn't be happy, either. Christ! What else could happen?

When I got to Mom and Dad's, they both met me at the door. Mom gave me the stink eye, a cuff upside the head, and a hug. Dad glared at me, handed me a full tumbler of his 80-year old Scotch, and invited me in. Gretchen warmed me a plate of their dinner leftovers. I ate, drank, and then had to make my call to Sable.

Shortly after I arrived at my parent's home, Elliott came storming in straight up to me, and then I saw stars. I never saw his fist heading for my face but I sure felt it. The resulting black eye was impressive. I'm not sure who hits harder – Gail and her book or Elliott and his fist.

Looking back now, I'm amazed at how calm I was. Everything was falling apart, I had absolutely NO control over anything, and I was not exploding. Yet!

I wanted Dad in on my call to Sable, so we made the call on speaker from his home office. Mom insisted on being there, too. I had to agree with her. I dialed Sable's number. It rang several times before she finally answered, "Christian, you are in violation of the NDA!"

"Yes, I know, but something serious has come up and it is vital you know about it. Sable . . ."

She interrupted me, she fucking interrupted ME. "Just spit it out and it had better be good, or so help me, God, you will rue the day you were born." she growled over the phone.

"Sable, please sit down. I just learned that we have a drug-resistant strain of gonorrhea. I got it from you and have passed it on to Ana. My doctor is required by law to report it to CDC who will have to have the names, addresses, and phone numbers of all our recent sexual contacts. I had to give them your name and info." I held my breath, waiting for her response.

"You goddamned, mother fucking, cock sucking, syphilitic afterbirth of a grudge fuck, don't you go blaming me for your low-life disease. I WILL see you in court." She hung up. I thought she may have broken my eardrums.

I held my phone out at arm's length, looked at it, and said, "See you in court, then." She did start a law suit against me for breaking the NDA, but before the hearing date, she settled out of court for the amount of $500,000.

No matter what I did, what I offered, who intervened, Ana would have none of it or me. I begged her to go for marriage counseling with me. She did go for a few sessions but the more she learned about Sable and me, the less she wanted me or our previous life. Once a cheater, always a cheater she said in our last session. Not true, oh, so NOT true, Ana, but she would not let me prove it to her. She refused to give me a chance to show her what "faithful" meant.

She filed for divorce, and I did not fight her. All she asked out of the divorce was the home on the Sound and Grey Publishing. That's all, no child or spousal support, just the house and GP. She told me that as long as she was alive, HER children would not do without. I automatically signed clear title to both the house and GP over to her, and the courts gave her very generous child and spousal supports. Both support checks go into the same account that I monitor without her knowledge. Twice a year she makes large withdrawals and divides the money between my Mother's favorite charity, Coping Together, and regular large food donations to the various food pantries throughout the city. As much as I hate the idea of people going hungry, I don't understand why I didn't think about supporting the food pantries. Naturally, Ana being Ana, she would think of that. Always there, always willing to help out those in need, just as long as the one in need is not me.

Ana doesn't deny me access to Teddy and Phoebe, so I spend every minute with them as possible. We do alternate holidays and birthdays. They're getting old enough now that I can take them on extended visits and vacations. As much as I love being with my children, I miss my Ana. Every time I think about her, which is constantly it seems, my heart breaks a tiny bit more and I have to hide my tears. It's a good thing I now wear contact lenses because when one of the kids, or an adult, notices my tears, I tell them that I have something under my lense. The kids seem to buy it, but I've noticed frowns and slight shakes of the head when I tell a family member that.

I've dated some since the divorce, dinner or theater dates, but nothing romantic or physical. The last time I was with a woman in that way was Sable, the night my world unraveled and left me empty and alone. Rosie and her 5 sisters do spend a lot of time with me when I'm in the shower. The warm water and the body wash I still use that was Ana's favorite brings back memories of the hours Ana and I spent in the shower together and the love and passion we shared there. Those memories make me want Ana so very, very much that Rosie and her sibs come into action. A poor substitute I know but it's the best I can do. I haven't heard of Ana dating but she is a beautiful, intelligent, caring person, and I know from personal experience, hard to resist. It's only a matter of time . . .

Observer:

The playground has cleared out all but for a few stragglers, the older couple and their dog have found their way home, the father and his son have pulled the radio controlled boat out of the water and the ducks are safe for another day. The man sitting on the bench under the tree is still there, still wiping tears he tries to hide, still looking at the statue, still thinking about the mistake he made, still wondering what it would take to have a similar statue and inscription placed in a prominent place in the park. Tomorrow, he would look into having a STATUE OF A FOOL put in the park for all to see. He will even pose for the statue.

Two Years Later

Observer:

We, again, are visiting the park. The playground is the same except for a new coat of paint on the play equipment that can be painted but the children could not care less. The benches are still there, occupied by mothers and baby sitters. The ducks are still on the pond but the radio controlled boat is missing, along with the father and son.

There's the elderly man, this time alone, approaching the drinking fountain. He lovingly runs his fingers around the fountain's bowl, stepping on the foot pedal and dipping his hand in the bubbling water. He wipes his wet hand across his eyes. He's just biding his time until he joins his wife and dog at the Rainbow Bridge.

The bench is still under the tree, still occupied by the same man that is still sitting, still lost, still lonely, still trying to hide his tears, still trying to figure out why he did what he did. Now, instead of staring at the statue of the man on the rearing horse, he is looking at a statue sitting several yards from his bench, a statue of a broken, sad man sitting in the same position as he. There's a brass plate on the bottom of the statue: "STATUE OF A FOOL. A man that tried to find elsewhere what he had at home."

Walking by the statue, a man and his son stop to look at the statue and read the inscription. The boy looks around him, sees the man on the bench, tugs his father's hand and says, "Daddy, that man looks like this statue."

AN: This is Christian's story, not Ana's, thus the concentration on him.

A drug resistant disease doesn't mean it can't be cured. It just means that it is harder, takes longer, and can be vastly expensive to cure since the usual antibiotics/antimicrobials don't work against it. As far as Christian using condoms, he wasn't thinking with his big head. If he had been thinking with his big head, he wouldn't be where he is now.

Sable loved Christian. She wasn't "in love" with him.

Story inspired by and based on the country song, "Statue of a Fool", as performed by Ricky Van Shelton.

The Rainbow Bridge rainbowsbridg dot com / Poem dot htm