I had just walked into my home and immediately knew that something was wrong. I had noticed that Sharon's car wasn't in the drive, or in the garage, but I thought nothing of it at the time. I just assumed that she had stopped at the store for something on the way home. We had been getting low on some groceries, so that's where I thought she might be. The house seemed empty when I entered the kitchen from the garage, devoid of everything that made a house a home. There was no one thing I could point to and say, 'There, that's what is missing that makes this a home.' What usually makes a house a home are little touches, the little things like a loving keepsake in a special place or if, like in our home, many of those keepsakes, like my wife's bell collection, are scattered all over the house.
We had a corner cabinet in the dining room where most of her bells were on display. She had everything from a large old-fashioned hand school bell to a dainty, hummingbird bell made of lead crystal. Scattered about the house were several more, placed as her collection grew. I tried to pick one up from each state we visited when we traveled, and I, along with others, got her bells as gifts for Christmas and birthdays. I looked to the cabinet and it looked like many of the bells were missing.
I glanced around and saw little things that should be there and were now gone. I ran to the bedroom and checked the closets. My closet showed the one suit I had worn two days ago in tatters. Sharon's closet contained two blouses and a pair of dress slacks that I don't think she wore anymore because they were too baggy.
This terrified me and I ran to the other side of the house to our children's rooms. Jason, at 14, was the typical teenage boy. His room was always a mess, but his room was even worse than normal. His drawers were open and nothing remained inside. His closet was wide open and there was nothing, except for a jacket that he had outgrown.
I was now devastated, and could hardly walk, let alone run to Jessica's room. Her room was neat, but devoid of clothing, her TV, and her stereo. Both of their laptops were gone as well. I sat on her bed and cried. What had I done to my family to cause this tragedy? What could I have possibly done to make Sharon and the kids leave me alone like this — just up and move out in the middle of the day?
I must have cried for at least a half hour before I pulled my cell phone out from my pocket and called Sharon. The phone immediately went to a canned voicemail message, "The subscriber you are trying to reach is unavailable at this time. To leave a message press '1' now, and leave your message at the tone." I pressed '1' and said, "Sharon, please call me and explain why you left me and have taken our children away from me. I don't understand what I did to cause this, please, I beg of you to call me." I'm not sure that she would understand the last part of the message, since I was crying again after I said the word "explain."
I'm not sure how long I sat on Jessica's bed, but I finally dragged myself into the den/office and was surprised to see a piece of paper on my keyboard. I certainly hoped that this would explain what I had found upon arriving home.
It was a letter from Sharon.
You are a bastard of the first order. Angela saw you going into the Holiday Inn, room 104, over on the Interstate. That was at noon two days ago, you were with some blonde dressed like a business woman. I described your PA, Pamela, and she said that she looked kind of like what I described. So how long have you been fucking Pam? Ever since she became your secretary ten years ago? If not then, when did you start this affair?
I was devastated when Angela told me she saw you. She said you must have driven Pam's car as your old Mustang wasn't in the parking lot. There is no mistaking that midnight black car with the gold pin-striping and ghost white flames. You didn't want to be recognized by that car, so you drove her car instead. Angela described you to a tee with your blue suit that I shredded in anger over your cheating and lying.
I thought we had a great marriage; we made love three to four times a week, even with the children grown. It was easy with them on the other side of the house. I always gave you every bit of my love, except for what I gave our children. We conceived our children in love, nurtured them in love, then you go and do something like this. How could you do such a despicable thing to me and them? We gave you everything you ever wanted. You wanted a loving wife, I always loved you, hell I still do, but I can't accept what you have done to us and stay with you. You wanted children; we had a boy and a girl, then you didn't want to spoil the set and got snipped. I wonder now if that wasn't planned so that you could go behind my back and whore around on me and the children. God, I hate you right now, but I do still love you more than anything in this whole world.
But I will not put up with a cheater, Rob. I had a hard time being civil to you last night after Angela called me yesterday. But I had to put on a brave face and now you know why I had a headache and wouldn't make love to you last night. I had a hard time not taking the butcher knife and cutting your heart out as you lay in bed sleeping. I will be seeing a lawyer in the morning, but please do not try to contact me or the children for now. You will be hearing from my attorney as soon as I can get things started.
Your, soon to be ex-wife
How could Sharon believe that I had cheated on her, and with — of all people — Pamela Swanson? Pamela is very happily married to Peter. They have been to our house for meals and barbeques numerous times. Sharon and I attended their wedding, and we even went to their anniversary party last month. But, the really unbelievable part was that I have never even been to the Holiday Inn on the Interstate. Sure, I have driven by there thousands of times, but I have never even been inside the lobby, let alone any of their rooms. Most of our business clients stay either at the Comfort Suites or the Candlewood Suites along the Interstate. Yes, I had worn my blue suit on Tuesday, but I never even left the office once I got there at eight, until I left at five. I even had Jason's Deli cater our lunch meeting with the Board. I could prove where I was at lunchtime on Tuesday. I had to talk to Sharon, we had to get this straightened out; I would never cheat on her. She is the yin to my yang, my better half, my soul mate. How could I cheat on her?
I guess it's time to introduce myself. I'm Robert Carter Freeman, or 'Rob' to most people. I'm forty years old since May 21st, and married, I thought happily, for 17 years. I met Sharon White in college, Texas State in San Marcos, actually. We met on a blind date almost 19 years ago. My roommate, Tom Smothers, had four tickets to a Willie Nelson concert at the Backyard in Bee Cave, TX. I had wanted to go, and my current girlfriend had dumped me to go with Carlton Britton, the hotshot center of the basketball team. I was now a single, so Tom convinced Shelia Thornton, his girlfriend, to find me a date who wanted to go to the concert. Sharon was the result, and we never looked back from that first evening. I knew she was the one for me. I really couldn't say how the concert was, I'm sure it was great, like several I had attended before and since, but I only had eyes and ears for this lovely brunette creature beside me that night.
Sharon was shorter than me at 5'- 6" to my 6' even. She was perfect as far as I could tell; she had a great figure with medium-sized boobs, a great ass, and fantastic legs, but to me, her eyes were her best feature. They were almost battleship grey with flecks of gold that sparkled in the light. Her smile lit up the whole night, much brighter than the sun, had it been shining that night. I fell in love that night, and I swore I would never hurt this angel come to earth just for me.
We dated off and on for about six months, except for the summer break, and I asked her to marry me just before Thanksgiving break. She said yes and I was on cloud nine. I asked if she would accompany me home to meet my parents in Round Rock. She hesitantly accepted. She said that she was a little afraid to meet my parents since she wasn't sure that they would like her for stealing their only son away from them.
I have three older sisters, and I was the baby of the family. My next older sister, Mary was 35 to my 22, with Faith at 43, and Hope at 40. My parents, John and Sheila, were both 62, so they still kind of doted on me as I still mostly lived at home, except when I was at school. I interned at DeGrady and Associates, an architectural firm that built homes and business buildings, during the summers. I was working toward an architectural degree so that I could work full time for them in Georgetown.
Sharon's parents lived in Bastrop, and she had two older married brothers, Jacob in Miami, and Gary in Santa Barbara. She also had a younger sister who was still in high school, and would graduate next year.
After calling her parents and promising them she would bring me for Christmas, she finally accepted my invitation to Thanksgiving at our home in Round Rock. Things progressed rapidly from there, and we were married after her graduation two years later.
I had now risen up the ladder and was the chief architect for large business and industrial plant buildings. We were sought after by many builders for our skills in architecture, ecological designs, and customer relations.
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