Chapter 3

I had the evidence on tape. Well not on tape, on a digital recording. I sent an email to myself containing the video, to my non-FBI email account. I wanted to preserve the evidence, just in case. My FBI training, I suppose.

I had to confront her. Maybe this was some sort of aberration? Caused by the girls leaving? I didn't know. I was grasping at straws. Probably not, but I wasn't a good enough actor to fake it while I did something else. Half an hour I sat in the car and still couldn't believe what I'd seen.

I turned the car around and headed for home again. In a few minutes, I got there. I could hear the shower running. I guess after a workout at the business end of a horse's cock, you'd need a shower. I took off my jacket and tie, locked up the gun, and just sat at the kitchen table to wait. In a few minutes, I heard the shower turn off. A few minutes later, she was dressed in jeans, a checkered shirt, and boots, and she entered the kitchen.

She was surprised to see me.

"What's wrong, Chris? Why are you home?"

"Now that the girls are out of the house, I decided I need to confront you about the extra sex you're having."

She was still a beautiful woman. She was 36, but had the firm body of somebody who has a physical job. She still had those large breasts, 38D I had learned. I looked at them, encased in a bra now. Then at the narrow waist and slightly broadened hips. Still the girl of my dreams that I fell in love with nineteen years ago.

But this was nightmare time.

"What?! How could you accuse me of something like that?"

So, that was her defense? Lie.

"I know about it, Liz. I've even got video. Don't bother to lie."

She sat heavily in a kitchen chair, opposite me.

"I love you, Chris. I always have and I always will. Just you. I swear."

One trick I'd learned from the many interrogations I'd been part of at the FBI is: shut up when the guilty party starts talking. So I shut up and just nodded.

"They didn't mean anything to me. None of them. It was just sex. I never gave them blowjobs and I didn't even feel it when they were in my pussy."

Them? Obviously, she wasn't talking about the horse. Because I could see that she damn sure did feel it in her pussy when that horsecock took her. I thought back and made a decision. I needed the who, what, and especially how long it had gone on – whatever 'it' was. Oh and the where. Did she fuck them in my bed?

"Elizabeth," I said. I never used her full name. Then again, I'd never realized how deceitful she'd been. "What you tell me now has to be the whole truth. If we're going to have any chance to save this marriage, it has to be the whole truth."

"No, no, no. You can't mean it! You can't throw out a lifetime of a perfect marriage for a little bit of sex on the side. It meant nothing. It was just sex!"

I reverted to silence.

"Okay, okay. The whole truth. But you can't get mad at me. It's just that they had long, slender cocks. And I wanted anal again. They never measured up to you. You're so big and that's good, but ... I just... [sigh] What do you want to know? I'll tell everything."

Well! That was a surprise.

"When did all this start? How long have I been a cuckold?"

She flinched at the word. "When Daddy died. I was a wreck. I called on old friends to keep me sane. I talked to lots of people, remembering old times. Mostly they were girlfriends, you know. But some of them were guys and there was David, David Carmody, remember?"

How could I forget? Good looking bastard. Was the quarterback and middle linebacker, great athlete. Always bragging about all the girls he'd bagged. The name brought a flash of recognition. David was the name of one of the guys Liz had mentioned as one of the guys she'd "necked with" in the hayloft, back when.

I nodded.

"And of course, Mel and Billy Joe and Tom."

I vaguely remembered the names, from High School. Basketball players, it seemed to me. Tall and thin.

I nodded again, saying nothing.

"Well, we started remembering old times and that led to reliving old times, and ... well ... they've been coming out here in the middle of the day ever since. Not all at once, you understand," she said quickly, having seen the expression on my face. "I'm not a slut, after all. Just one at a time. And mostly for anal, like I said. So I wasn't really giving them anything that you were going to get." She realized what she said and didn't like the sound of it. "God. I love you so much. You've been so good to me."

Oh well. That's a relief. It was only one at a time, because she wasn't a slut. Darkness descended on my soul.

Apparently, she didn't remember that she told me she was a virgin when we first hooked up. 'Reliving old times, ' indeed.

"So," I said. "You've been fucking around on me for ... what ... nine years, with these guys? That's almost half our married life."

She couldn't meet my stare.

"You done telling me everything?" I asked.

She nodded.

"Nothing else to tell?"

She was getting nervous, wringing her hands together in her lap, twisting the wedding ring on her finger.

"That's a lot of fucking around, Liz. Was I ever presented with sloppy seconds? Seems to me we used to make love a lot. Did I ever have to eat somebody's cum from your cunt?" I intentionally used the more vulgar term. I was disgusted.

"Never! I always washed when they came out on..." It hurt her to say it. She almost whispered. " ... on Friday." Then in a more normal voice. "But it was just my ass. And he got me so hot for you. I never denied you anything. Please forgive me, Chris. I love you."

"Where did you do it? In our – my bed?"

She nodded again. "I am so sorry, Chris. You've got to see my side of it. Please."

I kept ignoring these pleas. I was still trying to get the facts. Fortunately, I'd remembered to turn on the small recording device I had from the FBI.

"So, four guys for nine years. Just reliving old times. When were these old times, Liz? Before we met, I assume?" A cold voice.

"Oh yes, that was all before we..." and then it hit her. "When I said that my hymen had broken because of horseback riding, that was true. You never exactly asked me if I was a virgin. I guess I fibbed about that, but that was so long ago. It wasn't really my fault. I knew that you wanted me to be a virgin, and I really didn't want to disappoint you."

I kept on learning things. I guess a 'fib' didn't rise to the level of a lie.

"Uh huh. I see," using my non committal FBI voice again. "So that continued after we decided to go steady, right?"

"Yes, I guess so."

"You're not sure?"

"No, I'm sure. That was David. That's what started this off again."

"Did it continue after you told me you were pregnant?"

She looked at me in horror. "That all ended long before that. I swear. It was over. I promise."

"Then who is the twins' father? Don't bother to lie to me. I have the DNA tests, proving that I'm not the man."

"What?! It can't be. I mean ... you can't have any DNA tests. It's not true."

"It is true, Liz. And you knew it." I decided to empty that particular bag right now. "Your father told me. After we'd had some meaningless argument, you were on the phone with Jolene. You said that I was mistreating the girls, and that their father wouldn't have done that, if he knew. So, it's a lie that you hadn't had sex with their father, and it's a lie that you didn't know about it. That lie has been festering since before we were married. And you keep on lying to this very minute. It's not looking good for us, Liz."

She covered her face. "Chris. I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry. I know you love the girls and you've been a perfect father to them ... Oh God! My father knew." She was crying again.

"Yes, I loved the girls. I still love them. It's their mother that I'm having difficulty with." I couldn't keep the anger out of my voice. I was suddenly glad that my gun was locked away. If I had it in my hand, I'd have shot her where she sat.

The lying bitch couldn't keep all her lies straight. That was the problem with lies: one you started, it was hard to remember them all.