The birth of your first child is supposed to be a time of great joy and the months after the blessed event are supposed to be filled with awe, wonder and love. And it was that way, but only for six weeks or so. My life came crashing down at 3:37 AM on a Wednesday and I doubt that it will ever be the same again.
I'd come home from work, charged up and ready for some fun. Deanna had a doctor's appointment that afternoon and he was expected to tell her that it was okay to practice sex again. Deanna was not home when I got there at five-thirty and when she wasn't home by seven I began to get worried. At seven-thirty I started calling around to friends and relatives, but no one had seen or heard from her that day. The doctor's office was closed, but I left a number with his service and told them it was an emergency. He called me back about twenty minutes later, but wasn't able to tell me anything other than the fact that he had seen her at one in the afternoon and had given her a clean bill of health. I called the two local hospitals and the police department, but they had no record of an accident or incident involving Deanna. The police said that they would keep an eye out in case her name came up in a report, but that they couldn't take missing persons report because she hadn't been gone forty-eight hours. At nine-fifteen my mother called me and asked me when Deanna was going to stop by and pick up the baby and I told her I would be right over.
I was just reaching for the car keys when the phone rang. It was the manager of the Bide-A-Wee motel and he was calling me to let me know that there was a hysterical woman in room 214 and according to the identification in her purse it was Deanna. I called my mother and told her I was on the way, but that I had a stop to make first and then I headed for the Bide-A-Wee. The manager told me he had been making his rounds when he came to room 214. He found the door standing open and when he looked inside he saw Deanna naked on the bed and crying hysterically. He went and got his wife to try and calm Deanna down, but she just wouldn't stop crying. He had gone into Deanna's purse and found a card that gave our number as an emergency call number and he had called me. He led me to room 214 and let me in. His wife was sitting next to the bed holding Deanna's hand and talking to her in a soothing voice as Deanna lay there and sobbed. The manager's wife got up when I came in and she and her husband were starting to leave when I stopped them and asked a question.
"Who is the room registered to?"
"To her. She came in about a quarter to two and rented the room."
"How did she pay?"
"With cash, same as always."
"Same as always?"
"Yep. She used to come in every Monday and Thursday, but we haven't seen her in the last two months."
I thanked them for their help and they left me alone with Deanna. She was still on the bed sobbing softly, but I made no move to comfort her. I have no idea what made Deanna hysterical, but I knew what she had done. There was white stuff in her hair and on her face that could only be cum. I pulled the sheet down and uncovered her body, a body covered with hickeys and love bites. Her tits and lower body were spotted with dried cum and when I pushed her legs apart I saw that her cunt was red, puffy and slightly opened and a mixture of blood and cum was leaking out of it. Deanna's overnight case was on the counter in the bathroom and I looked in it. A change of underwear, a tube of KY Jelly, a douche bag, a half-empty carton of condoms and some cosmetics.
It was painfully obvious to me what had happened. Deanna had gone to the doctor, gotten clearance to have sex, had called someone and then had rented a motel room where they had gotten together and then something had gone wrong. I didn't know what pissed me off more; the knowledge that she was an unfaithful whore or the fact that on the day she was released to have sex, knowing how much I had been looking forward to it, she had gone to give it to someone else. I looked over at the sobbing mess on the bed and muttered a "Fuck you, you lousy cunt" and then I went out to the car and got the small digital camera I always kept in the glove compartment. I shot about thirty exposures and when I was done I went and got her purse off the dresser. I took out all the credit cards, cash and the checkbook to our joint checking account and then I tossed the purse on the floor and left to go over to my mother's and pick up the baby.
First thing in the morning I called in sick to work and got busy arranging things. I cancelled credit cards, closed checking and savings accounts, cashed in CDs, changed the locks on the house and then got busy packing Deanna's stuff in boxes and moving them out into the garage. I was just finishing when the phone rang. It was Deanna.
"Can I come home?"
"No Deanna, you can't. Except to pick up your stuff which is boxed up and sitting in the garage."
"Please Davy, I need to come home and talk to you."
"We have nothing to talk about Deanna. What I saw in that motel room last night told me all I need to know."
"Please Davy, I nee..." and at that point I hung up the phone.
The next call came at two in the afternoon and it was Deanna's father. "Davy, Deanna is hysterical. What did you do to her?"
"Threw her out of the house. Packed up all her stuff and put it in the garage and told her to come and get it."
"What the hell is wrong with you Davy? This is upsetting her mother and that upsets me."
"Upset? You want to talk about upset? Well just let me tell you about upset" and then I told him about what happened and said, "The bitch is lucky I didn't get physically violent with her."
There was silence on the other end of the line and then he said, "Sorry I bothered you" and he hung up.
Two days later Deanna and her two brothers showed up to pick up her stuff. Over the next two weeks I heard from my mother, "Davy, you need to sit down and work things out with Deanna." From my older sister, "Dave, you're being an asshole. Talk to Deanna." From my younger sister, "What the hell is wrong with you brother mine? Deanna loves you. Sit down and talk things out." Since all that they had heard was whatever Deanna had told them I felt the need to set the record straight and I told all of them what had happened and that put an end to the phone calls.
The last one to hassle me was Deanna's older brother Don. He works in the building next to mine and one day I was having lunch in the restaurant just across the street from both of our buildings when he came in and saw me. He came over to my booth and looked down at me.
"I've got half a mind to kick your ass for what you are putting Deanna through."
"Well, you got part of it right."
"That you have half a mind."
His face clouded over and I said "You have half a mind if you think I could do what I've done without extreme provocation" and then I told him what had happened.
"That's bullshit man, Deanna just isn't that kind of girl."
I just happened to have my briefcase with me because I planned on going from lunch to see a customer. I told him to have a seat and then I took a large brown envelope out of my briefcase and handed it to him. I had the pictures arranged in order. The first showed room 214 from the parking lot with the motel's neon sign to the left of the picture. The next shot was from just out side the open door to room 214 clearly showing the room number and the naked woman on the bed just inside the door. The next three were shots taken as I approached the bed and then there was a shot looking straight down at Deanna which clearly showed her face and the condition she was in. The last shot was down into her overnight case and showed the douche bag, the KY and the other evidence that this was clearly a planned trip to the motel and not something that 'just happened'. I took the pictures back from him and said, "I need these for the divorce."
"Divorce? Oh come on Dave. The girl made a mistake. You can work through it. There isn't any need for a divorce."
"Maybe you could work through it Don, but I can't."
Over the next six weeks I managed to learn the story behind what happened. The first part of the story came from a guy who worked with Deanna and who bowled in the same league that I did. The night we bowled against each other we were sitting waiting for it to be our turn to be up and he said, "I hear that you and Deanna are toast."
"Yeah. It is over between us."
"No offence Dave, but I could never understand what a guy like you saw in a slut like her."
"You knew she was a slut?"
"Could hardly miss it. I only saw it the one time, but a woman who would do what she did couldn't possibly be doing it for just the first time."
"What did you see?"