Chapter 1: Cheating
Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, Cheating, Slut Wife, Interracial, White Couple, Black Male, White Male, White Female, First, Masturbation, Voyeurism, Menstrual Play, Slow, .
Desc: Sex Story: Chapter 1: Cheating - Cheating wife, treacherous partner, saved lives, murder pinned on someone else, intrigue, finally love and fulfillment.
We are the Wilson family. My wife, Melody, is thirty-one, tall and willowy, sensuous, with an easy smile and very self-confident. I am Bill, thirty-five, six feet tall, a little overweight and diabetic but, even at two hundred ten, still attractive to women. Despite that I am loyal and faithful to my wife. Our son, Bradley, is nine. We've been married almost ten years.
My best friend and his family, Pete and Marsha Stone are both thirty-five and their daughter, Mellissa, is also 9. Mellissa is a type 1 diabetic, whose health is kept under control with blood glucose monitoring and regular insulin injections. Pete is a big guy, six feet three inches and about two hundred thirty pounds.
Pete and I had been friends since third grade. We were next door neighbors. When my folks and I moved into his neighborhood in my third grade year, he and I hit it off and became fast friends, BFF, I think it's called.
We were in trouble together after we got our driver's licenses, we'd been caught drag racing our two cars against one another. Officer Fife didn't much appreciate our squealing tires, racing engines and high speeds on 'his' pavement, in 'his' town. We were Best Men at each other's weddings. We'd been thick throughout most of our lives, eating at one another's homes, overnights when we were kids, barbecues, etc. Our wives were best friends too.
Our tenth Wedding Anniversary was coming up and we wanted to do something really special. Melody and I had been talking for years about taking "The Great Canadian Train Ride" across Canada, from Toronto to Vancouver. It is a thirteen day, twelve night trip in dome cars, also with sleepers so we could take advantage of a beautiful scenic trip, and do something really different. It takes in the scenic Jasper, Lake Louise, Banff, and the Northern Rocky Mountains like no other trip. I'd actually wanted to take this trip since my college days.
Pete and I are both dentists and have thriving practices. We bought a building in Denver that suited us and went into partnership, remodeling it so we both shared a receptionist, waiting area, billing clerk, laboratory, rest rooms, that sort of thing, but had our own dedicated exam and work rooms as well as private offices.
We close our practices down each year for the month of July, taking the whole month off for some really worthwhile vacation time. Then, the rest of the year we don't take any time off, except for weekends and holidays, and we rotate on-call for emergencies on those, so we are pretty well tied to one another.
Pete's wife Marsha is a five feet four inch trim and sassy redhead. She has a bright, wonderful personality and works for one of the Urologists we know from Northglenn, a northern suburb of Denver. She's thin, petite but full of vigor and fun. She's great looking and, so far as I know, totally faithful to Pete.
Melody, my wife, is tall and sensuous, willowy, with luscious full lips, puffy breasts, lithe body, perfect hips and long legs with dainty feet. Wherever we go, men look at her. She turns the heads of high school kids and old men alike, to say nothing of those in our own age group. She's just one of those women who are blessed with superior looks. Personality wise, most never know her, because they can never get beyond looking at those delicious lips or hips. She doesn't work outside our home, though she could if she wanted.
Melody and I met in her freshman year of college. She was training to be a dental hygienist and I was becoming a dentist. We had some classes together as I was a graduate teaching assistant. I asked her out and we dated off and on for nearly three years. We got married in her junior year. We had Brad in her senior year. Melody did finish, getting her four year degree, but it took an extra year for her to do it.
I am four years older than her, but I had extra years of schooling, plus 2 years of internship, so I got my DDS before she got her four year degree.
Melody was wild in high school and even during college. While we were dating she admitted to having experienced other guys before we became serious and engaged. We dated off and on before we decided to get married. She knew Pete long before we got married, because Pete and I were together all the time, so they went back almost as far as she and I did, though I'd met her first, but introduced them on our second or third date.
I never knew for sure if they'd been intimate. Sometimes I kind of suspected that they had been during one of our breakups. Despite the possibility, they remained loyal to me, never changing how they acted toward me and I really had nothing for proof, other than an occasional uneasiness. There was never any hard evidence or real indication, or at least none that I recognized.
When Pete met Marsha and fell in love, it seemed there were no more 'sneaking suspicions' so I never pushed it. We were a foursome and partied hardy together lots of times. We all went a long way back, together.
Melody is a strange one in bed. When she is menstruating, she becomes sexually ravenous, almost 'rabid'. During a four or five day part of her cycle, I think she could have sex continually, 24/7 in her quest to scratch that itch. During that time of her month, we have almost nonstop sex, when I am home. Plain vanilla sex nowhere near meets her needs and desire for sexual fulfillment. She wants it rough and hard, lots of it. Many nights during our ten year marriage and three year courtship I'd have to get up and shower her menses off me before going to bed.
However, during the rest of the month, she is bland, sexually. She isn't demanding, and almost never initiates sex. Also, when I am done, she is done. She really doesn't seem to care one way or another. There doesn't seem to be any way to excite her, try as I might.
I asked a gynecologist friend about it once and he just shrugged and said, "Different women are different. I wouldn't worry about it if everything else is normal. If there's no excessive cramping, bleeding or other abnormality, let it run its course."
So, I learned to live with it. I know that once a month I'll get my socks screwed off for a few days - the rest of the time, I get by with whatever I just have to have, and no more.
In March, Melody and I decided to take Bradley on the Great Canadian Train Ride that summer. It would be the best family vacation we had ever had, and we couldn't wait for July so we could leave.
I mentioned to Pete what we had decided and he showed a great interest in the trip. He asked if I'd mind if he asked Marsha and maybe plan the trip so we could all go together.
It was great with me and I said, "We'd love it. Ask her and we'll get you the information so you can book it. You need to book right away though, so don't wait."
I told Melody about my conversation with Pete earlier that day. The strangest look swept across her face - it almost looked like arousal to me.
Marsha called that night and got the booking information from Melody - they had decided to go with us.
In June, before our trip, I was scheduled to be off on a Wednesday afternoon, which is common. Pete was just scheduling lightly and said he wanted to get out of the office early too. I didn't go golfing, like I usually would do, deciding instead to get caught up on some insurance paperwork, sign patient notes and the like. I stayed in my office, with the door closed so I wouldn't be interrupted.
About 4:45 pm, I hit a bump in my hitherto smooth-sailing paperwork, and needed to see Pete about a regulation we were supposed to be following. I pushed the intercom to his office and said, "Pete, you still here?"
A long silence followed, "Uh, yeah, whatcha need Bill?"
"Good, I'll just come over to your office; I need to ask you about this Medicare regulation." I switched off the intercom, stepped out of my office and walked the twenty-five feet to his office. I just opened his door and went in.
Melody was in there and they were breathing kind of hard. They were a little disheveled. Her hair was messy, their clothes rumpled. They acted like they'd been caught doing something they weren't supposed to be doing.
"Melody, what are you doing here?" I asked, looking at Pete then at her.
"Oh Bill, I thought you were golfing. I was just telling Peter about our trip, what we are expecting, that we're so excited. I was just saying that we'd been planning this for years and how you'd wanted to do this since college," she blanched
"Yeah?" I snorted, "What's up here guys? My wife and my partner bumping their uglies?" I queried, rage building in me.
"Bill, knock it off," Pete said, "We thought you were golfing and we were talking about the trip. Your birthday comes in July, while we'll be on the train, and we were talking about that, if you need to know the truth." He appeared relieved at his quickly thought-out excuse, but it was still an excuse!
I left the room without saying a word, walking out to where my car was parked in the shade. No wonder she hadn't seen it, I hadn't used my regular parking spot because it was so hot that day.
I got in and drove off. My cell rang repeatedly; Pete's office number, Melody's cell and finally Pete's cell. There were probably thirty calls in that first two hours. I beat her home, loaded a suitcase, hotfooted it out and got a room at the local LaQuinta Inn.
My cell phone rang at intervals all evening, up until about midnight. I had it on silent, so I'd see the light come on, but I did not answer it.
The next morning I was at the office at eight. I had a heavy patient load, with appointments stacked one after another. I had been trying to get everyone seen, who needed to be seen, before being off for a month. Pete had a heavy load that day too, for the same reason; I'd checked his appointment book.
During the day, several messages came in to reception from Melody for me. I told the receptionist I was, "too busy to take any calls today, so to tell Melody not to call because I am snowed under."
She still persisted, but so did I. The poor receptionist knew the Wilsons were feuding, but she didn't know how seriously. I hated my staff to be in the middle of this, but I couldn't do anything about it except talk to Melody, and I was not going to do that right now.
I slipped out of the office Thursday night before anyone could catch me and went to my LaQuinta room. Friday morning I was back at work, still fully loaded with work, patients one after another, and there was no letup.
Right around twelve-noon, Melody walked into the office, thinking I might have a lull for fifteen minutes while I scarfed down a sandwich. There were patients in each of my three exam rooms, employees everywhere plus Pete's contingent of staff and patients. There was no privacy, and a shouting match was out of the question, though I considered that choking her to death would be quiet, and I could do it in my office where I could remove her body hours later after everyone had left!
I couldn't do that but I could dream it. I think the patient sitting in the chair at that moment probably got a little too much Novocain, but she didn't have any pain during her procedure. My reputation for 'painless dentistry' would be intact!
Melody stood in the doorway of the exam room as I was working, bent over my patient, concentrating on my work. She stood there, staring at me.
My assistant said, "Dr. Wilson, uh, Mrs. Wilson is here."
"Oh, hello, dear, I'm snowed under right now, as you can see - can it wait?" I forced a cheery answer.
"Ok, uh, yes. What time will you be home honey?" she asked, just as forced, just as cheerily.
"It's the weekend tonight; I have patients until late and then some catching up to do on paperwork. It'll be really late, I'm afraid." I intoned, "Don't hold supper."
She just said, "Ok, see you later tonight then," turned around and walked out. She knew that I was steamed from my forced tone and words. Knowing me for a dozen years, she knew I'd address her when I was ready and not before.
I left a note on Pete's desk before I left the office. "9pm tonight here – Bill."
When I walked back into the office at 9:10 pm, I found an agitated but contrite partner/friend.
"Dammit, Bill I spend enough time in this office, why tell me 9 pm if you weren't going to be here on time?" He started in.
"Because, you miserable sonofabitch, I'd have killed you if I'd come in here at 9pm. It took me a moment to take control of myself and calm down as I was remembering catching you two the other day. I just saved your miserable fucking life, so quit your fucking bitching."
"Jeeze, Bill, cool down. Nothing happened." He said.
"If nothing happened, it is only because I interrupted you," I seethed.
"You are out of control, Bill. If you aren't going to talk reasonably I'm leaving," he threatened.
"That's OK with me, I'm putting your ass on notice now. You lay a hand on my wife and your life will not be any fun, any more," I yelled, eyeball to eyeball with my partner.
I drove straight from the office to home. When I walked in, Melody was sitting at the table; she had been crying.
"Bill, I'm so glad you're home. Honey, I want to talk to you, please." She begged.
"Melody, first you will listen, and then you can talk," I said, sternly.
"I know you two have your stories worked out by now. I know you too well to be fooled by your lies. So, you get to make a choice, this may be your last choice as far as this marriage goes, but you do get it."
"Here it is: Tell me the truth, in full. If I sniff one hint of a ruse or a lie, I will move to end this marriage immediately. If you tell me the truth, no matter how damning it is to you, I will consider everything and decide when I am more in control; I'll wait until we get back from Canada," I said. "That is your choice."
"Oh, honey, I ... well, OK, I love you," she began, twisting her hands, looking anxiously about her but not at me. It was a long silence as she decided what and how to tell me.
I sat expressionless glaring right at her face while waiting for her to speak.
"Billy, you know how I get just before and during my period. This isn't news to you, I am so horny, I can't help it, something happens to me. Most of the time, I wear you out and can get by. But, there have been times through the years when you either weren't available or couldn't quite get me where I needed to be, I ... sometimes ... I ... went to Pete." She began trembling, looking at me, unsure if she was doing the right thing in telling me the truth about her and Pete.
"He's always been your best friend, and he's always been such a gentleman to me, and so helpful and safe. When we were in college, you were taking exams, cramming all night, you had to do well or you couldn't go on, and the subjects were so tough for you, remember?"
I sat mute, listening, not outwardly reacting. My hands were cold, my throat was dry, I wondered if I'd have a stroke, my head pounding.
"Well, I needed relief, and ... Pete, well he was always around and safe. I knew I could trust him and he hadn't met Marsha yet, or if he had they weren't serious yet. He never came onto me; I just called him and asked if I could come to see him when you were in a study group one night. I went to his house, that one that he and those 4 guys rented together off campus. He was waiting for me out front when I pulled up, wondering if something was wrong. He was concerned for me," she said.
"I was so horny Bill, I couldn't help myself. I saw him and threw myself into his arms, kissing him and grabbing at his crotch and rubbing mine on his leg. I was beside myself. Pete took me upstairs and we had sex." She was crying, sobbing.
She looked at me with fearful eyes, wondering how I'd react, what I'd do. She was shaking and sobbing.
"Have you fucked him since?" I asked.
"Yes, several times through the years. Like I said, I knew he's safe and wouldn't hurt me. When you were out or unavailable; when I couldn't get enough from you, I knew I could call Pete and he could help me. His p ... penis is so large; it can make me calm down sometimes. And, after he comes once, he can go a long time before he comes again, which is just what I need, you already know that," she wept.
"So, I'm not enough for you, you are out of control, need a second man to keep you serviced, can't use a dildo, is that about right?" I asked.
"Then," I continued, not waiting for her answer, "the rest of the month, I languish while you do not require your servicing. My needs are secondary to yours and for years you've felt like it is ok to fuck my best friend, behind my back, for your needs, because he is so much bigger than I am, AND he's safe and convenient?"
"Do not tell Pete, don't tell Marsha, and don't tell ANYONE that you've told me this, Melody. I am going to think about this and I want my options open. If I find out you've betrayed me further with him, protecting him from me, I won't be happy. Understand?" I said.
"Ok, I won't. Please, Bill, don't leave me," she begged, "I love you."
This is no weak willed woman. Melody is a woman of considerable allure, and she knows it. I know that she didn't need to beg me; there'd be dozens of men that could warm the cockles of her heart if she'd wanted. That she did seem to be repentant, even trapped inside her own body during 5 days per month, wasn't necessarily her fault. I do know that her proclivity for uncontrolled sexual lust and need for satisfaction is real. The facts cannot be denied, not even by a totally distraught husband. However, there are dildos and some medical remedies, if she'd only have sought them.
However my friend, my partner, my brother in all ways except blood was a different story. That is betrayal in the highest sense of the word, to me.
"Is there anyone else?" I asked her.
"No, never; I mean, when we were dating, before we'd, you know, gotten engaged there were some, but not after we committed." She said. "Oh, I'm such a rotten person. Oh, Bill, what am I gonna do? I'm so sorry," she cried remorsefully.
"You are sleeping in the guest room for now, for starters," I said. I went upstairs to bed. When her 5 days of oestrus visited her, I was not going to be available to her, that much I knew. It would hit her a few days after we were on the train in Canada, according to my figuring. I was going to lay in wait for my partner and sink his life, like he'd sunk mine.
We each took our own cars to DIA when we left for Toronto. We had so much luggage that it wouldn't all fit in one car plus all six of us, four adults and two kids. We had to pack for three weeks, even though the train ride was thirteen days, we had to spend a night in Toronto and a night in Vancouver, plus it's always good to pack a little extra for emergencies.
We got on the train on Friday morning and off we went, heading for Vancouver via the entire Canadian part of the continent.
Melody began to show signs of her monthly cycle after two days on the train, and I ignored her, refusing her attempts to mate, pushing her, intentionally, into Pete's arms. She held out a day and a half, and finally sought him out, bedding him in our sleeper during the afternoon of our third full day. I opened the door of the sleeper, unexpectedly to them, and they were furiously fucking; both were bloody, oblivious to anything but the clack, clack, clack of the train as they went at it. "Whiskey Tango Foxtrot," as the author said (WTF?), I said.
About the time they noticed me standing there, Marsha, white as a ghost, came running and crying down the hallway of the sleeper car, "Something's wrong with Mellissa, I can't get her to respond to me, please come help her Bill," she cried, never even noticing her husband and my wife, tangled up in the sleeper unit.
I left the door to the sleeper open, exposing them to passers by, and ran to the dome car where the kids were sitting watching the scenery roll by; Mellissa was pale, clammy and semi-conscious.
"Has she had her insulin, Marsha?" I asked.
"Yes, just like normal." She replied holding up the vial of Novolog to me.
"It's cloudy, Marsha," I said, "Look, It's no good." I took the vial and noticed that it was very cloudy and had sediment in the bottom, a sign that it had lost its efficacy.
"Do you have another vial of Novolog?" I asked her, "Also get her blood glucose monitor, let's check her sugars," I said.
The meter read that her sugars were over 480, she was in hyperglycemia, probably ketoacidosis too. The insulin, not being any good, had not been working, she'd been getting sicker and sicker and nobody had noticed.
Marsha brought another vial of the insulin, unopened, still in the box and handed it to me, "it's all I have with us, it should be more than enough for three weeks," she said.
I opened the box and it was no good, either. The insulin also was cloudy and must have come from the factory that way, or allowed to get too hot or too cold.
"You have no other insulin, then Marsha?" I asked.
"I brought two vials, Bill. That's two thousand units, more than enough for three weeks under any circumstances," she said with anguish.
"I'll have to give her some of mine then. But, I don't have enough for us both for ten days to get us to Vancouver," I said, "especially since we need to give her so much to get her back to normal now. Do you think 80 units will be enough for this initial bolus?" I asked her.
"That is a big dose, I've never had to give her that much," Marsha worried.
"She's over 480 Marsha, we need to get her sugars down," I said.
Pete and Melody rushed up about that time, looking sheepish as could be.
"Did you get all the blood cleaned up?" I spat at them.
"Pete, I am going to save your daughter's life, you cheating bastard. Not because of you, but in spite of you." I said, not waiting for their answer.
Melody, Pete and Marsha watched as I pinched Mellissa's lower belly and injected my own insulin into Mellissa. She was a sick little girl.
"What are you talking about?" Marsha asked.
Melody and Pete were standing there in total embarrassment.
"Our spouses have been lovers for 12 years or more, Marsha. I just caught them fucking when you were running up to tell me about Mellissa. They were in our sleeper going at it," I told everyone within earshot.
Melody started crying and Pete withered at Marsha's glare. Mellissa was still comatose, unstable and there was no way of doing more for her at the moment with what I had available.
I asked for her glucose meter again and took another reading after 15 minutes. She was slowly descending, it was 414. I took her reading again in 30 minutes it was 288 and then again 30 minutes later, it was 160. She was conscious again, but cranky and scared, weak and tired.
"I'm not sure I have enough test strips, Bill if we keep testing her every hour. I only brought about 75," Marsha worried, "We usually only test 4 times a day."
In spite of the infidelity of my best friend and my wife, Mellissa, my treacherous partner's daughter was the most important issue of the moment. The most worrisome thing was that I didn't have enough insulin for us both for 10 days. Now, the test strips also became an issue. I only had what I needed for my own use, but it was essential that we keep a close watch on and control of Mellissa's sugar levels. She was brittle at the moment and may continue to be until we could get medical help.
"Make sure and see that she drinks a lot of water, we'll have to use my test strips when you run out. Let's try to get and keep her stable and see where we're at." I instructed.
She is the most critically ill, being a type 1 diabetic. Her body produces no insulin, or cannot process what she does make, and is totally dependent on external insulin.
I am a type 2 diabetic, and while my body produces 'some' insulin it isn't enough. My weight and sedentary lifestyle were my culprits, for sure. I decided that I had to forego full doses to make sure she got enough to get her safely to the end of our trip.
I tried to calculate what she'd need. Her mom said she normally took about 50 units a day of the short acting insulin. With the 80 I already gave her she'd need almost 600 units of what I had on hand, and I only had about 900 units. I usually take around 70 units per day. I had started the trip with a full vial plus one third of another. But, I'd taken the partial vial and a little of the new one, then gave Mellissa 80 units. That's how I figured I had about 900 units left, and we needed about 1200-1300 units between us to get us to Vancouver. We were in the middle of the Canadian wilderness and had over 9 days of cross-country travel left.
I'd have to cut my doses to about half or a little less, to make sure she had extra in case she needed it. This was going to be painful. I could end up pretty sick myself here.
To make things even more tense, we had only the two sleepers between the two families and nowhere else to go, except the dining car or the dome car. It was quite the dilemma not only for me, but also for Melody and Pete.
I stopped talking to Pete and Melody. I just never said a word directly to them. I talked to the kids and I spoke some to Marsha. We went to bed that night and I could hear and feel her masturbating next to me, crying and suffering terribly, but I had no sympathy, I had been betrayed and I knew it'd been going on ever since I'd known her. She could have learned to use a dildo, or get some medical help, or, hey, how about talk to me?
Pete, my so called best friend was even worse to me, in my mind. The two of them carried on behind my back. If there was a time to seek a solution to her problem that had years to present itself, now wasn't it, and it wasn't with my best friend twelve years earlier, either. Now, in the middle of nowhere, stuck together, I was going to ride this into the ground and them with it.
If needed, I'd do my best to pound sand up Pete's ass. The trouble was, he was probably capable of beating me. I'd never be able to get the better of him with the tactic of surprise, because he'd now be on alert, I'm sure. So, the element of surprise might not be that easy to come by.
Melody was miserable. Caught in the act after having admitted to me at home and in the throes of her 'disease', if that is what it should be called, she couldn't get me to deal with her. She was afraid to see Pete alone again, Marsha was furious with her; she was adrift and alone with no obvious remedy.
Well, Melody found a remedy, leave it to her; the conductor. He was a portly, kind, black man of sixty or so, and he had his own berth on the train. Melody found it and him in it and introduced him to a menstruating, highly aroused white woman who liked to fuck. I'm not sure the man ever was right after that encounter.
I followed her the next night as she left our sleeper, the train lulling everyone as it trundled down the track, everyone but her ... and me. When she left the car, I left the sleeper. When she walked through the next car, I went into it, from the other end, following. When I couldn't see her, I knew she was somewhere in the car I was in. I just opened each compartment until I found them.
She was already impaled on his cock and grinding hard on the sleepy black man. She opened her eyes, looking at me and never stopped. I stood and I watched a moment, incredulous; the conductor looked up at me and actually paled, fearing for his life. I stepped into his little apartment, put my hands under Melody's armpits and yanked her off the man. Then, I dragged her back to our car, she whimpering as we went.
When that old conductor saw the blood on himself in the morning, I am sure he'd freak out. I took Melody back to our room and used my belt to tie her hand and arm to our bed. She'd not leave this bed without me, and I wasn't going to touch her. She'd have to tough this one out.
The next morning, there was some sort of mechanical malfunction with one of the diesel train locomotives. They announced that we'd make an unscheduled stop in Banff for repairs, expecting the wait would be one to two days. At least we could get the insulin crisis averted, and Mellissa to medical attention, but I also decided on something that would scorch the earth of two families.
With the four of us seated together in the dining car, Pete, Marsha, Melody and me, I laid out an ultimatum.
"One of two things is going to happen here in Banff," I said. "Either both Pete and Melody get off here and find their own way back to Denver, or I do." Their eyes widened, their mouths open, breathing shallow.
"Bill, don't be stupid. There is no need for this," Pete begged.
"Oh, honey please I'm so sorry, don't do this," came Melody's reply.
Marsha never said a word, she just looked at me with a mixture of, 'don't leave me with them' and 'I wish I could go with you.' But because of Mellissa, unsure travel arrangements might not be wise, and she needed constant monitoring. They could get the supplies they needed in Banff, go to the clinic and have a doctor treat her, but getting through the rest of the trip would be tense.
"I have a DNA sample of Bradley and I'm going to check him for paternity, whether or not I am his father. More than that, my days as part of you two's, and my unwilling, triumvirate of monthly pleasure is ended. I'm through with you both. Our partnership, both of you hear me, our partnership is cancelled from this moment forward." I was yelling as I finished, the veins in my neck sticking out, my fists clenched and white, the lips of my mouth were dry and thin, I was in fight or flee mode and do or die it would be! I had become enraged and out of control with anger, insult and the deep sense of betrayal.
Pete rose from the table and I swung at him, grazing his chin and knocking him off his feet, but not really hurting him. Melody started to stand and I cocked my fist at her, ready to smash her face if she stood all the way. She sat back down and avoided a closed fist, but I also avoided sure jail time.
Pete stood back up, out of the range of my swing, but I attacked him with a vengeance, rushing at him and hitting his chest with my fists, missing his face. He was the better man and he had me on the ground in a heartbeat, holding me down.
I could hear Melody crying and the whole train car was disrupted. Two or three men helped Pete contain me, telling me, "calm down, buddy, what's the problem?"
"He's fucking my wife, that's the problem. Let me up and I'll leave the train," I said.
Melody cried, "Oh, no, Bill ... please don't leave. Bill, please."
The three men, Pete included, eased their hold on me. I slowly got off the floor, went to the sleeper, them following me closely, and got a suitcase. I packed my essentials and stepped off the train, walking away without looking back, seething and breathing utterings of hateful vitriol.
Neither Pete nor Melody had ever seen me so livid, so animated. Like a vicious trapped beast, I am sure they realized that I was a very present threat to them both aboard that train.
I was able to catch a tour bus to Calgary and then flew into Vancouver and on to Denver direct. I was home in two days. They had at least eight more, maybe nine with the connecting flight home, depending how long repairs took in Banff.
I sent the swab from inside Bradley's cheek to the lab. I listed my dental practice including my half of the building and equipment for sale in a professional journal for dentists. The journal also has a strong presence online, so the available business was instantly listed worldwide to any dentist looking to make the move immediately. I paid all outstanding credit cards, utility bills, mortgage payment on the house and car payments out of our existing checking account, which nearly depleted it. I took half the savings, half the certificates of deposit and all my belongings and got ready to move out of our marital home when they returned. She had a credit card in just her name. I did not cancel that one, but I cancelled everything else for which we had joint ownership.
I hired a lawyer and had him draw up divorce papers, which were to be served upon her return home. I also had the lawyer prepare a lawsuit against Pete to dissolve the partnership, with breach of trust, perfidy, alienation of affection and whatever the lawyer could find to support my claims against him for sleeping with my wife over the twelve years we'd been together, effectively breaking up our marriage.
I spent the eight days before their arrival back in Denver cleaning up all my messes, accounts and business. I received the DNA tests on the day they were to arrive back in Denver from the trip. Bradley was not my son.
As hard on the boy as it would be, I was innocent of wrongdoing, and I was done paying the price for Melody's and Pete's indiscretions. The boy had to be Pete's, if Melody's claim were true, that 'only he and I had bedded her since our engagement.' Bradley knew Pete well, Mellissa would be his sister, Marsha his step mother, if she decided to stick it out. He would be fine. As fine as any poor bastard could be.
Like I had said, "The partnership ends here."
In my mind, the onus of support was out of my life, off my shoulders and I just needed to finish the sale of the practice, the building, the equipment and move on.
The offices were still shut down for summer vacation, and it was only July 16, so I had over two weeks before patient issues resumed. I'd thought of just moving my practice, with patients, to another location in Denver. However, after weighing the pros and cons, I just wanted away from Melody and Pete. I never needed to lay my eyes on either one again.
Truthfully, I was so humiliated, hurt and demeaned by Pete's and Melody's treacherous betrayal that I just had no will to resume life as it had been. I should have been more responsible to my patients ... those were mistakes I made.
In my meager defense, I was swamped with emotional distress and my natural instinct to run away overcame my moral duty to stay and fight it out. I am a wimp, but I was not going to suffer their abuse any longer. I'd kill or be killed first.
I'd been humiliated by becoming aware of Melody fucking Pete for years; then again on the train after she knew how seriously I was taking this. I was humiliated on the train by Pete in that fight, facing the train's conductor, humiliated at every turn, in my mind. I just wanted relief from the pain; the pain of humiliation, the pain of anger, the pain of hatred and bitterness. I was emotionally unstable, I am sure, but I knew that to preserve anything of myself, I needed to extricate myself. I needed to let them work out their own problems, with me no part of any of it. I was in self-preservation mode, animalistic with rage. I was a danger to her, to Pete and probably even to myself.
Some might prevail on me to help Melody. 'She has a medical issue, ' they may say. I reasoned about that back and forth and decided that she'd had it from before she knew me. I knew she'd had gynecological visits several times. It would have to have been a subject, and even if she didn't mention her condition to her doctor, she was dishonest with me from early on, before our marriage.
She had options, lots of them through the years, but I was done helping her; it was now time for my self-preservation.
A Chinese lady once said to me, when I became angry with someone intruding on my massage, "Why do you hurt yourself with anger over someone else's mistake?" I needed to step back, take stock and calm down or I would lose myself in this rage.
I got an offer on my practice before we opened back up August 1. I had finally decided to keep my patients and employees served while I was in secret negotiations to sell. I returned to work, never talking to Pete or Melody, just staying at my apartment and going to work.
The divorce was in the works. Pete had been served his papers; me suing for the dissolution of the partnership with damages, plus back child support. It would be up to him to prove that he wasn't the father, with Melody's claim that he and I were her only partners during the time of Bradley's conception. Nothing more was being dealt with by me, other than negotiation of the sale of my practice and regular, ongoing patient care.
I sold it, finally, in September. I took less that I could have gotten if I'd have wanted to wait it out. But, I did net a small profit. I had to notify the divorce court about my new net worth, including the proceeds of the sale of the business. Fine, I did it. 'Let the fucking continue, ' I thought.
Melody made several attempts to talk to me; I refused every one of them. I had Bradley's DNA results inserted into the divorce paper servings so she knew about that.
By the first of the year, I was extricated entirely from the dental practice and the building. The divorce was not final, but it was rapidly approaching finality, in late January, which would complete the mandatory six months minimum. I just gave her half of everything, she didn't ask for alimony and Brad isn't my child, so there was no child support due there.
The partnership lawsuit and paternity claim still loomed and probably would take a couple of years or so to settle. I was going to hurt him as much as I could, so I didn't care how much time it hung over his head; it was worth it to me.
I only had a license to practice dentistry in Colorado, so I moved to a small town on the Northeastern Plains, Sterling. It is a town of ten thousand folks, about two hours northeast and would suit me just fine. It presented a lot slower lifestyle. I'd have to start up a new practice, go slow, retrain new staff and acclimate myself to my new home, but I had enough of a nest egg to weather most storms that could come my way for a few years, and I was more than willing to do what I had to do to make this work.
Our divorce was finally granted. I never had to talk to Melody, though she wanted to and tried to several times.
To this day I haven't seen Pete. When we ultimately go to court I'll have to face him then, but I am more than willing to air my dirty laundry with him in public, so I have no thought or worry there.
His attorney did try and settle, but I just told my lawyer, "No settlement, I want a judgment, period." I wanted my day in court, to expose his treachery as a friend, how he went into a business partnership with me, knowing that that would tie my wife and him together, making their trysts appear innocent and more likely. I was after money, sure, but I wanted his actions to face the light of day.
I never talked to Marsha again, either. I wondered how Mellissa was doing so many times but I didn't want to risk Pete being around or him tapping the lines, potentially jeopardizing my suit against him, so I let it hang.
I'd begun to build a good equity; equity in my practice, the building, equipment and our home. I walked away from it all, disgusted, humiliated and furious.
The issues are still unresolved, somewhat but I am not unhappy now. I am building a new patient load and I have a few friends from around my neighborhood. I don't date too often, but I do occasionally take a twenty five year old hottie out to dinner. She is a patient and that's how I met her.
I did not pursue her, she did me. I finally relented and we went out to eat, to talk, but no sex, yet. Maybe someday there will be, but not yet.
A bitter divorce, betrayal by your best friend and partner are traumatic events. Looking back, I know I mishandled some things.
But, I can't go back and I won't demean myself to Pete or Melody, so all I can do is do what the old rancher from Sterling says to do, "Brave on, motherfucker, Brave on!"
Thank you for reading my story. -Pultoy
Part 2 is in editing process, will be posted as soon as I get it back.
Part 3 is written, has not entered editing yet. I'll post as soon as it finishes the process.