Right up until the very day that George Winslow met Montgomery Davis, he could say that his had been an ordinary life. Married right out of college to Beth Anne, his high school sweetheart, and proud father to five year old, Charlie, and two year old, Julia, George’s life had rolled out for him like a red carpet. But on that fateful day, he’d chosen to take a walk on the wild side, and now, now he was terrified that he might never get that simple, yet achingly beautiful, life back again.

Of course, that day had begun innocently enough. He woke up at 5:00 a.m. to his alarm and eased out of bed so as not to awaken Beth Anne. He went for his morning run, and jumped into the shower when he returned. He helped Beth Anne dress the kids and cajoled Charlie to eat two bites more of his breakfast cereal. He’d painfully waited for Julia to put her own shoes on, and then put up with her temper tantrum when he had to remove them and put them back on the right feet. He’d even said no problem when Beth Anne asked him to stop for milk and eggs on the way home from work.

It was in the minivan where things had begun to unravel. In fact, George could pinpoint when the shit started hitting the fan. He’d managed to get Charlie buckled in, and had picked up Julia and sat her in her car seat, but she had stiffened up her body and thrust her legs out, refusing to sit back against the seat. George had felt himself getting frustrated. He remembered barking at Julia, which, of course, had made her start screaming shrilly, in his ear. He had shoved her rather forcefully into the seat, and Charlie had cried, “Daddy, you’re mean!” at the exact moment that Beth Anne appeared at the door of the minivan. She had diffused the situation, but not without making him feel inadequate first. By the time he’d slid into the driver’s seat, George had felt defeated, and angry that he felt defeated. His life wasn’t what he had expected it to be. It was a thought that struck him as an odd one for him to have, but even as he took note of it, he kept on with his duties like the good, family man that he was.

He drove Charlie to kindergarten, and dropped Julia at daycare, and then headed to work. He attended a meeting where his boss shot down his idea for an upcoming project, and praised an asinine idea put forward by a young jerk that had only been with the company for a week. He left his desk at exactly 12:04 p.m. for lunch. There was a little bistro just a bit down the frontage road that he liked to frequent, not because of the food, which was dreadful honestly, but because it was always empty, save for the cook and a surly waitress. But, on this day, George had found himself caught up in a traffic snarl. Having no other choice, he sat in the line of cars, feeling his blood pressure inch up as the indignities of the day flicked through his mind like a bad movie.

Forty minutes later, the minivan had managed to move maybe a hundred feet. His lunch hour was nearly over. Irritated beyond belief, he’d finally decided the hell with it. He’d spun the wheel and crossed over the double yellow line, drove off the sloping ditch, backed up, went forward, backed up again, and, as he could feel the occupants staring at him from their vehicles, he did a burn out as he sped off back to work.

He’d almost made it back. There had only been one more traffic light to sit through, a left hand turn into his employer’s parking lot, and then a quick ride up the elevator, only he hadn’t done that. He’d turned the minivan into a small lot instead. He parked and shut the car off, and then screamed. He screamed until the tendons in his neck had felt like they were going to burst, and while he screamed, he pounded the dashboard with his fists until his knuckles bled.

And then there had been a tap on his window. A man had been standing there. His eyes had glowed with kindness and concern. He’d motioned for George to roll down his window, and that was when George met Monty.

Monty had immediately seen the depth of his inner turmoil. His voice had been so soothing, so gentle and full of compassion. He’d stood there, outside the minivan, listening as George unloaded all of the considerable rage and confusion that had built up inside of him through the years. And Monty neither laughed, nor poo-pooed it away. No, Monty had simply listened and commiserated, making him feel like he mattered in a way that he’d never really felt before.

So when Monty had suggested that George come meet with him at the Soul Stretch Center, which happened to be the very building whose lot he had pulled into, it hadn’t seemed that odd at all, and he had eagerly agreed. In fact, as he had pulled out of the lot into traffic, George felt a strange sense of euphoria, and that euphoria continued even as he went through the rest of his day and returned home that afternoon. It had still been with him through dinner, as he sat listening to Beth Anne whine about her day, which, to tell the truth, never seemed that tough to George, and through the monotony of dishes, baths, and bedtime for the kids. And then he did something that he had never, ever done before. He told his wife that he had to step out for a bit.

“Where are you going?” Beth Anne asked, with alarmed eyes and a hint of alarm in her voice.

“I’m meeting someone,” George answered, honestly, “It’s a – it’s a work meeting.” he had added, which, of course, had not been the truth.

The whiff of guilt that he had felt as he backed out of the driveway hadn’t been enough to stop him though. And when he’d stepped into the Soul Stretch Center for the first time, and had been warmly greeted by Monty, and other, kind, smiling faces, George felt like he’d finally found himself amongst friends.

There, at the center, Monty gathered the seekers together in a room filled with candles, pillows, incense, and soft music, and he admonished them to stop trying to find themselves in the savage world outside, but to turn to him, instead. It had not been an accident, he said, that they had found themselves at his doorstep. A benevolent universe had led them to the one man who could help them find their true selves. And he could help them. Absolutely he could. But, his help would only work if they gave themselves fully to him. To do such important work half heartedly, Monty had intoned, would be akin to not doing the work at all.

George felt a ping of anxiety then, but mostly because he worried how Beth Anne was going to react to his new found endeavor. When Monty had finished his talk and directed them to help themselves to refreshments, George had patiently waited until the crowd around Monty had thinned out and then he had sidled over and asked him if he should bring Beth Anne to the next meeting. Monty’s answer had been a very firm, no. In fact, Monty had drawn George off the side and said that under no circumstances should George tell Beth Anne anything at all, reminding him that most, if not all, of his problems were directly related to his unhappiness at home.

Put that way, George clearly realized that it would serve no purpose to bring Beth Anne to the one place that was offering him some respite, and he made a pact with Monty that he would continue to come alone to the center. Monty had rewarded him with an offer to counsel him the following day, and George had left the center that night feeling as light as a feather.

Over the following weeks, George continued going to meetings at the center. Beth Anne grew increasingly vocal about her suspicions and confronted him about his schedule change, but he would not be deterred from attending his sessions with Monty and his fellow seekers, so he just ignored her and hurried out of the house.

At the center, George found it increasingly easy to share his life story with his fellow seekers. Though he had always been reticent, the combination of nonjudgmental welcome and soothing ambience made him comfortable enough to tell them all sorts of things that he never would have even considered telling strangers about before. During one meeting, after Monty had given a sermon on the evils of money and how it took a toll on your overall wellbeing, George found himself telling them about the fairly substantial inheritance that his wife had received when her grandfather had passed away, and how it had drove a wedge between them. Monty, of course, asked him to share how having the ‘gift’ of money had impacted their lives, and George, truly thrilled at having finally been singled out by Monty in a group setting, had eagerly explained that he had wanted to use the money to pay off school loans, credit card debt, and car payments, while his wife had wanted to set the money aside for their children’s college fund. George was absolutely amazed at how much better he felt after sharing his story, just like Monty had said that he would.

It was right after that meeting, that Landon, a distinguished gentleman in his early sixties, had approached him. George had felt a frisson of excitement race up his spine, for Landon was clearly one of Monty’s right hand men, having been with him since the very beginnings of his ministry. Landon had praised him for giving Monty’s sermon credence, and had kindly asked if he and his wife had figured out what to do with the inheritance. George had told him that his wife had won that particular battle and that the money was just sitting in the bank, awaiting their children’s future educations. Landon, George remembered, had smiled broadly and quickly called Jennifer, a distractingly beautiful woman, and another of Monty’s coveted inner circle, over to meet him.

Everything about Jennifer was designed to grab a man’s attention. From curves in all the right places, to the heady scent that permeated the air around her, George had felt unable to speak without feeling like an idiot. But, he needn’t have worried, for Jennifer, just like Monty, had rushed to make him feel comfortable, and soon had him feeling like a member of the inner circle, himself. At some point during the evening, Jennifer had leaned in close, allowing George a glorious peak of her ample cleavage, and whispered that they really needed to have coffee together sometime soon. Perhaps the next day, even.

The following day, George met Jennifer at an upscale coffee shop that he ordinarily would have never had the nerve to enter, but that was before he’d had a woman as stunning as Jennifer beside him. He knew that every man in the place was wondering how a guy like him had managed to land such a looker. Jennifer had sweetly ordered for the both of them, and they had taken seats on a swanky velvet couch and sipped at their whipped coffee. He’d been surprised when she informed him,(and this was supposed to remain between the two of them), that The Soul Stretch Center had been having some financial difficulties lately. Monty, it seemed, was always being asked for money from other seekers, and he apparently could never say no, even to the point of taking on his own, personal debt, just to make sure the center could remain open. This news, of course, had promptly sent George into a tailspin. He couldn’t lose the Soul Stretch Center, and, Monty, when he’d only just found them. How much did they need, he asked her, and she had told him a number that wasn’t out of reach for him. He’d insisted that he would come to the rescue. Jennifer couldn’t have been more grateful.

Just like that, George had become a member of the inner sanctum. Monty showered him with more attention than ever, which he reveled in. But, while his life at the center was more fulfilling than ever, his life at home was falling apart. The more time he spent with Monty, the less he spent with Beth Anne and the kids, and she had become increasingly skeptical of his ‘work meetings.’

A month after George had gifted the center with a sizable financial endowment, Jennifer came to him once again, asking for more, and he had hurried to write the check. The praise that Monty heaped on him at the next meeting was the reward, and George had floated on cloud nine for at least a week after.

A month later, at a hip, downtown bar, Jennifer pulled him away from their table and pressed herself against him as she moved her hips in rhythm to the music. Stunned, George felt his heart race in double time as he stood in confused stillness. He was a married man. He knew that. She knew that. And then she looked up at him with her big, luminous eyes, and asked him to help the center once again. This time, George said that he would have to think about it.

At the next gathering, Monty had warmly reached for his hand and led him into his office. There, among the curtain beads, crystals, and incense, Monty told him that Jennifer suggested that he might be losing his faith. George hurried to assure him that that wasn’t the case. Monty had nodded, sagely, and then offered that if he were to find his way to another financial gift to the center, surely the reward would be even greater this time. And that was how George had found himself in bed with Jennifer. The experience had been surreal, and everything he’d dreamt it would be. But after, as he drove home and climbed into his marital bed with Beth Anne, guilt wrapped a vise around his chest and he decided, right then and there, that he would never, ever do it again.

A week later, Beth Anne got to the mail before he did, and happened upon their bank statement. She was livid when he came home that evening. What the hell happened, she had shrieked, and he had lowered his head, unable to look her in the eyes as he lied, telling her that he had put it into stocks so that it could grow into an even greater sum. The surprising thing was that she bought his lie, hook, line, and sinker, and had been so impressed by his fib, that she had served the kids bowls of ice cream in front of the TV, and then pulled him off into the bedroom for sex, which almost never happened when it was still light out.

The lies he had told his wife were keeping him up at night though, and despite throwing back antacids like they were candy, the tightness in the pit of his chest never seemed to leave him. Eventually, he went to Monty and explained his concerns. Monty suggested that he join their meditation and yoga classes, and they helped a tiny bit, until the day that Jennifer sidled up to him and offered to meet him at a hotel. He had desperately wanted to say no, but he hadn’t. In bed, at the hotel, while Jennifer moved down his body, softly kissing him until he felt delirious from the pleasure, she whispered that it was Monty’s desire to take the Soul Stretch Center global, which, of course, would require a sizable investment from everyone. He did still have quite a large sum of money left from the inheritance, didn’t he, she had asked. He had nodded, even as burning acid shot up his esophagus and made him cough.

George went to Monty, and explained that he just couldn’t see how he could possibly give any more money to the center, even though he desperately wanted to, on account of his wife, who would surely stop him. Monty gave him a gentle, compassionate smile, and said that he understood. Relief flooded through George, and he slept like a baby that night. The following day, he came to the center for a yoga class during his lunch hour. Jed, one of Monty’s early followers, came over and laid out his mat beside him, and even helped him several times on his positions. George didn’t know much about Jed, other than that he was an ex cop, and seemed to provide security for Monty on occasion, but he was grateful and surprised by his attention. After the class, Jed asked him to hang back and talk a bit. They sat on their mats and waited until the room cleared, and then Jed handed him a small bag of powder and told him to put it into his wife’s drink. George had felt his face go pale as the ramifications hit him. Surely Jed wasn’t suggesting that he drug his wife?

After that strange encounter, George went to Jennifer and expressed his confusion about what had just happened. She, in turn, asked him if he wanted to help Monty, or not. Was his allegiance to a wife that he had professed was his greatest source of misery, or to the Soul Stretch Center, who had done everything they could to help him with his wretched existence. Put that way, George felt contrite, and he had rushed to assure her that, yes, of course he wanted to help Monty. Jennifer had pursed her red lips and crossed her arms over her full bosom, and hissed that if he truly wanted to keep the center going, and see it expand to its full potential, then getting that money was the only way. She had settled against him then, and kissed him sweetly, as her long, bouncy curls tickled his cheek. He had felt intoxicated by her nearness, and that’s when she had whispered that Jed was only trying to help. Just imagine, Jennifer had said, if he were to no longer have his wife to worry about. If he were to have all the inheritance money to spend in any way that he wanted. Imagine how grateful Monty would be, how grateful all of them would be.

It was, George decided, time to rid himself of the noose that was his wife. Beth Anne would never allow him to give the money to Monty. She would always hold him back, and keep him down. By getting rid of her, and gifting the center with the full, substantial remainder of inheritance money, he could finally gain Monty’s undying gratitude and adoration. He kissed Jennifer lustily, and headed out to the minivan, his mind made up.

It was supposed to be simple. All he had to do was tip the contents of the tiny plastic bag into Beth Anne’s drink, but first, George had to get her a drink. He searched the cabinets until he found a glass that wasn’t actually plastic, and opened the refrigerator. There was a pitcher of something red and cheerful in there. He grabbed it and poured some into the glass. He took it over to the counter and felt for the bag in his pocket. He pulled it out and started breathing heavily as an image of Beth Anne’s smiling face appeared before him; a memory of when they had just bought the house, and she was spinning around the kitchen with joy. For a brief moment, George felt the remembered joy, too, but he shoved it aside and held the packet up. He started to open it.

“Daddy?”

George’s fingers closed over the packet. Charlie was looking at the drink on the counter.

“You’re having some fruit punch?” Charlie inched closer, “Can I have some, too?”

George smiled and handed the glass to his son with a trembling hand, “I thought you were supposed to be upstairs in bed, little man.”

“Mommy’s crying in her room and I feel sad for her,” Charlie said, his eyes wide and distressed, “Mommy cries all the time now.”

“She does?” George felt his mouth pull into a frown.

Charlie nodded, “Uh huh. She thinks you don’t love her anymore, but you do, Daddy. You do love her, don’t you?”

“Of course I do, Charlie.” George cried, as an intense rush of emotions suddenly swelled up inside of him, and he realized at that very moment that it was true. It had always been true. He loved Beth Anne. He’d always loved her. And, more importantly, he loved the family that they had created. He loved all of it, so, so very much. And he didn’t want to lose it. He couldn’t bear to lose it.

Charlie’s small hand wrapped around his, “Daddy, let’s go tell Mommy that we love her,” he whispered, “I bet she would stop crying.”

And as his son led him through the house, George’s eyes welled with tears as he realized that he’d gone too far out onto the precipice, but he hadn’t stepped off the ledge yet. Not yet. He could still take a step back. He could still save his family. And they would save him.