Sorry I haven't written in a while. The three months after the storm have been a little bit hectic, to say the least. With the rebuild of the mansion and my marriage...

I still can't believe I was that stupid.

Blame it on all the blows to my head. I do.

After the twisters destroyed Smallville, there was a lot of rebuilding to be done. Not just on the mansion or the town, but on relationships. My relationship with the Kents was estranged to begin with, and my relationship with Clark had been given a huge test.

In the end though, he had forgiven me. He knows me better than anyone else; he knows that I become obsessed in my quests for answers. The fact that he is still my friend speaks volumes for Clark Kent. In order to rebuild our friendship, or at least patch the holes that existed, Clark spent most of his free time this summer at the mansion. He was my escape when I needed one. Taking care of LuthorCorp while my father recovered was more than a full time job. Especially since my father wasn't aware I was overseeing things.

And then there was the business trip. The disaster that started, well, the disaster.

Two weeks of dealing with suits. Two weeks without Clark around for the sanity escape. Two miserable, long weeks.

Until I met Desiree.

She took my breath away, I can't explain it. It's as if she had some kind of power over me. I loved her. Couldn't imagine life without her. And within those two weeks, I asked her to marry me.

When I heard about the fire at the high school, I rushed over there. I believe I rushed passed Clark as well. I hadn't seen him for two weeks, and didn't even say hello.

I had to make sure Desiree was all right.

She was substitute teaching at the school. Another reason I loved her. She wasn't a business woman, she wasn't interested in the corporate life. She was simple. And beautiful.

I wasn't surprised that Clark had saved the day yet again. He seemed a bit upset with me, understandable now that I think about it. I was getting married. That night. I asked him to be my best man. He's honored, he tells me. He doesn't try to talk me out of it, doesn't tell me I'm doing this for the wrong reasons. He had accepted the fact that I had found true love, and I believe he was happy for me.

My father, on the other hand, was less understanding. He had a prenuptial agreement all ready for signatures when I returned to the mansion. When Desiree saw it, she agreed to sign, which only proved to me how much she loved me for me, and not my money. I believed she was the best thing that ever happened to me, so I tore up the agreement.

The wedding was beautiful. A valiant effort by all on short notice. I felt like the luckiest man alive. A beautiful wife, my best friend as my best man, and my father no where to be seen. It was a good day.

As I tried to explain to Clark at my wedding, sometimes you just know when something is right. I wanted Clark to be happy, I really did. I encouraged him to talk to Lana at the wedding.

Maybe that's why it hurt so much when I found out he was hitting on my wife. She had told me everything, how he was eyeing her in school, that he came on to her last night. She explained to me that she understood how close Clark and I were, and she wanted to get to know Clark a little better. But when she told me that Clark was suggesting they get to know each other on a much more personal level, I was hurt.

Clark came over the next day. I thought he was there to apologize, instead he told me that Desiree came on to him. Now Clark is a good looking man, don't get me wrong, but I had serious doubts that my wife would hit on him. I didn't get the apology I was hoping for, instead Clark gave me a piece of paper showing that Desiree wasn't even her name, my wife was actually someone else.

I confronted Desiree on the name change. It didn't really matter though, we really did only know each other for two weeks. I'm sure there are things about me she didn't know, such as Club Zero. All that mattered to me was her. Not Clark, not my past. Just her.

With that in mind, I decided to shut down the Talon. I had only invested in it for Clark, so there was no need to continue funding the dive. Lana threw a temper tantrum of course, which sealed my decision. The Talon was making no profit. Lana was entertaining friends after hours, and in the process managed to cost me even more by a fire that broke out earlier that week. The look on her face was priceless when I handed her the eviction notice.

I didn't think Clark would take the eviction so personally. When he torched Desiree's car, I was in shock.

But what really hurt, what hit home for me, was when I saw Mrs. Kent at the Talon the next day. The things she said to me, all of it making sense. I knew Clark wasn't capable of this. I don't know my own wife. Clark has stood by me when no one else would.

When Mrs. Kent told me that she now joined her husband in his feelings for me...

I tried to call out to her, but the pain was overwhelming. I felt the tears burning my eyes, the knot in my throat prevented me from making any sound.

She was right. Clark was right. I was too blind to see it.

I returned to the mansion after a few hours of fast driving and a lot of thinking. I confronted Desiree, expecting her to convince me that everything would be okay. That she loved me for me. I wanted her to remind me why I loved her in the first place.

Instead, she had Jonathan Kent waiting at the mansion to kill me, so she in turn would receive everything I had.

There was no reasoning with him, just as Clark and Mrs. Kent couldn't reason with me. Whatever she held over me, she now held over him. And he was not happy.

I heard Clark scream. I heard the shotgun fire. I ducked to the floor, but never heard the bullet hit anything. Mr. Kent had come closer for a better shot, Clark throwing his father out of the way.

While Clark dealt with his father, I went after Desiree. I wasn't sure what I was thinking, it's not like I would've hit her or anything. But before I knew what was happening, she hit me with the liquor decanter on my back, and set me on fire.

The funny thing about being on fire is you don't feel the pain at first. You feel warm, the sweat forming on your body. You hear the crackle of the flames in your ear. The sound is deafening.

I think I screamed for Clark. I vaguely remember him covering me with one of the curtains. I remember the look in his eyes.

He'd saved me yet again.

I owed him my life. I owed him apologies beyond words. When I went to see him, instead of trying to put into words everything I had felt, he once again turned the tables and let me know that everything was okay. That we were still friends, giving each other advice and being there for each other.

I've given up on love. On passion.

But I'll never give up Clark Kent.

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