Chapter 2

A mix of soft voices and metal clanging awoke me. I blinked, my eyelids flittering from the glow of overhead lights. Something was in my throat. It ached, my mouth dry. I reached up to find an airway tube securely in place. My temples throbbed and my brain ached as if someone had clubbed me with a bat.

“Nurse! He’s awake!” someone yelled, sounding vaguely like Dad. My arms felt heavy, weighed down by exhaustion and a slight tug. I opened my eyes enough to see that an IV was stuck in my arm. Rhythmic beeping of some monitors caught my attention, and my mind put enough together to know I was in a hospital room.

Then the memories flowed back to me in a rush. The visions of my wife cheating came roaring back, and I remembered swilling down way too much bourbon. It was the aftermath of a night gone too far. I heard a machine whining, the rate of beeping louder and more rapid. My blood pressure had skyrocketed, as I relived the images of my cheating wife.

A woman, dressed in blue scrubs, stood over me, looking at the monitors before catching my gaze. “Relax. Concentrate on something else.” Her hand held mine, gently squeezing it.

Her radiant smile and warm eyes caught my attention. I breathed deeply, my thoughts focused on her.

When the beeping slowed and lowered in volume, her smile broadened as she spoke, “Well, you put us in for quite a scare, didn’t you? The Doctor is on his way to remove the airtube. Your throat will be sore, and it’ll be difficult to talk at first. Just relax and we’ll take care of you.”

After she left, I felt a hand squeeze mine before Mom’s face appeared before me. She looked tired, her eyes puffy and red. Recognizing my confused look, she explained, “I’m sorry, Dave. We should have been more concerned about you, but you didn’t act too upset when you left for the basement. If it weren’t for Jack calling about his concerns, we wouldn’t have gotten to you in time. Your father wouldn’t even wait for an ambulance. He carried you to the car and rushed you here.”

I squeezed her hand in return as thanks for taking care of me, something she and Dad have done all their lives. I couldn’t ask for better parents.

She stepped aside as the doctor took over, carefully removing the airway tube. When finished, he turned off one of the monitors and adjusted the bed so I was more upright and handed me a cup of water. “Drink slowly as your throat allows. It’ll take getting used to.”

I managed to sip a bit, feeling the cool water burn all the way down. My head spun, and my eyes reflected my concerns that he was giving me more alcohol.

He smiled and explained, “There’s still some alcohol in your system, so you’ll feel a little dizzy for a bit. We’ve hydrated you as much as we could with the IV, and you’re mostly out of danger. Rest and I’ll be back in an hour to see how you’re feeling.” He left in a rush as I heard someone page him over the intercom.

The nurse returned and said, “I’ll remove the IV and oximeter now, and you’ll be able to rest for a bit.” Disconnecting me, she moved the stand to the side, returned, and said, “Drink as much water as you can and get some rest.” Her feet pressed some buttons, lowering me back down, before leaving.

I leaned up enough to drink some water before flopping back down. I looked over to see Mom and Dad sitting in chairs, watching over me. “Sorry,” I croaked, my voice hoarse and crackly. “Guess I got a little stupid with the booze. Thanks for taking care of me. You said Jack called. What tipped him off?”

Mom scooted her chair closer and held my hand, saying, “It’s not the first time he’s seen a husband drink himself to unconsciousness when their life has been destroyed. Lisa was actually the one who told him to call because she knew you were going to review the videos and, from seeing them herself, she knew how it’d affect you. It sure did me. I hope your laptop recovers from the way I slammed the lid down.”

A smile and slight giggle formed, brightening my mood. Suddenly, I felt exhausted and barely eked out, “Thanks, Mom. I’m really tired and going to take a quick nap now.”

I was out for six more hours before coming to. My strength had returned, and I felt much better. I took a long drink of water, watching Mom and Dad asleep in their chairs, leaning against each other for support, exhausted but still there for me.

A nurse walking by noticed me awake and came in to adjust the bed to an upright position. “How’re you feeling? Better?” she asked, her warm smile uplifting me.

“Much stronger and the room isn’t spinning anymore, although my head still hurts,” I replied, returning her smile.

“I’ll be right back with some pain killers and will notify the doctor you’re awake,” she said, turning and leaving.

Dad stirred and, seeing me awake, shook Mom. They yawned and stretched, obviously aching from the uncomfortable sleeping position.

The nurse returned with a little paper cup with two pills, which I dumped in my hand and swallowed them down easily. She refilled my water cup and left the room.

“She said the doctor will be here shortly,” I informed them. “Maybe he can clear me out of here, so we can go home and get some decent sleep. I could have managed here on my own, but thanks for staying. Too bad they don’t have cots to put in these rooms for guests.”

“We made do, much like we did when you broke your arm when you were little,” Dad replied. He smiled and added, “As long as you don’t repeat it in the near future, we’ll weather through it.”

“I’m over it now. It was hard to grasp the conflicting emotions from so many years of happiness turning ugly so quickly,” I explained.

Our conversation ended when a different doctor from before entered just as I took a drink of water. “It looks like you’re in good enough shape to be released, except for the psych evaluation, but he won’t arrive for a few hours.”

“It won’t be necessary,” I stated firmly. “I didn’t do it to kill myself. It was a mistake that won’t happen again.”

“I just arrived, so I’m not aware of the circumstances, but if your wife could confirm to me that she’ll watch you, I could authorize your release,” he stated. His brows rose as he saw my expression souring.

“She’s the reason I’m here, and I don’t intend on watching another thirty minutes of her cheating on me, at least not while drinking bourbon,” I replied.

The doctor tried not to grin, but couldn’t help a slight upturn of his lips, probably experiencing divorce himself.

Dad stood, walked near me, and said, “We’ll watch over him. We’re his parents, and he’s staying with us.”

The doctor talked a bit with Dad and Mom and promptly left, saying he’d approve my release. Dad went to retrieve the car, and Mom handed me a fresh set of clothes as mine were in a bag, thoroughly coated with my puke. Twenty minutes later, a nurse, built like a brick shithouse, brought in a wheelchair for me to sit in.

“I don’t need that. I can walk,” I stated indignantly.

“That’s nice, but you don’t have a choice,” she snarled, sounding as if she’s heard it more than once.

Once home, we all retired to our beds. It wasn’t until noon that I awakened, threw on some sweats, and ventured upstairs. Mom had a pot of coffee waiting and brought a cup to me as I plopped onto the couch. After a few sips, I began to feel better. Mom scrambled up some eggs as I requested, and afterward, I felt tired again and passed out on the couch.

Around three, I heard the doorbell and Dad jumped up to answer it. He stepped outside and closed the door, but I could hear Kat screaming and begging to see me. She inquired about the hospital, and then it occurred to me that she was still listed as my primary contact, so the hospital at some point had notified her.

Finally, Dad lost it and yelled, “He almost died because of you! Leave him the hell alone! He’ll contact you when he’s god damn good and ready!”

The sounds of her weeping uncontrollably were her reply as her voice faded as she walked back to her car and left.

Dad settled into his favorite chair and switched on the TV while I dozed in and out for the afternoon. I’d regained enough strength to sit at the table to eat that night, and afterward we enjoyed the evening, avoiding the topic of my failed marriage.

The next day, completely refreshed, I took a long walk, and when I returned, I turned on my phone, which had been collecting dozens of messages, mostly from Kat. I ignored them, except for the one that had ‘Saturday’ in the preview line. I opened it to see that she wanted to meet with me when I came over to pick up my stuff. I replied, “If you’re there, I’ll leave and never talk to you again. Your choice.”

Among the messages was one from Lisa, which I looked at immediately. She was concerned about my health, again apologizing for introducing me to Kat. I replied, “Hi, Lisa. Thanks so much for telling Jack to call my parents. I owe you my life, and I don’t begrudge you one bit about Kat. She fooled all of us, and you couldn’t have known how it’d turn out. I’ll see you on Monday. Thanks again.”

Messages from Kat continued to flow in through the evening, which were promptly deleted.

Saturday morning, I downloaded the videos from the cloud onto my phone and drove Dad’s SUV to the apartment to pick up my belongings. He offered to help, but I refused, wanting as much room as possible so I’d be able to do it in one trip.

No sign of Kat, so I started the process by lugging out all my clothes. After that, I systematically went through each room, leaving anything that didn’t pertain specifically to me. When I grabbed two of the cameras, I paused, thinking I should leave one to see if she’d continue to cheat on me, but then grabbed it, knowing I didn’t care. She was no longer my wife, just a slut whoring her body out.

Any pictures I found of us, I turned face down so I wouldn’t see them in the process. Hearing a soft knock at the door, I swore under my breath, suspecting Kat had decided to meet with me after all. I opened the door a crack to see her father, Bob, his expression neutral, but at least not angry.

“Can we talk, Dave?” he asked.

Anyone else, I would have slammed the door, but I liked and respected him. He’d treated me well throughout the years. I invited him in and we sat in comfortable chairs opposite each other. He began, “I haven’t got many details out of Kat, except that you two are breaking up. She almost had a mental breakdown when she returned from your house yesterday, learning after the fact, you were in the hospital.”

“It’s probably better if your daughter explains the reasons, Bob,” I stated, his face still neutral.

“She hasn’t been forthcoming, so that’s why I’m here,” he replied. “You and I have always had a good relationship, and I’m guessing from the few hints she gave that it wasn’t your fault. I want to know the truth, no matter how much it hurts. You owe me that much, Dave.”

He was right. We’d always shared a special connection. Going into the kitchen, I grabbed two snifters and the bottle of Macallan, twelve-year scotch. I kept it specifically for Bob, knowing it was his favorite. I set the glasses onto the coffee table, between us, and poured several drams into each.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” he asked, obviously hearing about my hospital stay.

“I’m good, and it’ll make what I’m about to tell you a lot easier. Reader’s Digest version: Kat has been having an affair for the last five months.”

He let the silence grow. Another sip, before answering, “Normally, I’d not have a problem believing you, but this is different. I need proof of something so serious.”

I hesitated, ready to deny him his wish, but relented, understanding his business-like thought process. “I have videos, but no father should witness his daughter in the arms of a man. I do have one of them capturing only their shoulders and heads, but I’m going to warn you, the language is brutal.”

“I’ll stop it when I’ve seen or heard enough,” he replied.

I searched the folder and found the one I was looking for. I clicked on it and handed the phone to him.

The pair of cheaters grunted and groaned, obviously in the throes of intimacy. Kevin croaked, “The last several months have been unbelievable, Kat. I love fucking you. Whose your pussy belong to, baby?”

Kevin’s head lurched forward as he thrust in deeply, her head bounced as she grunted, replying, “Yours, baby. I love you and your cock. Fuck me hard!”

Bob had seen enough, handing me back my phone. I stopped it and looked up to see him blinking rapidly, holding back his tears. He polished off his glass. I refilled it. He sat silent, his eyes glaring into space.

Finally, he asked, “There were no signs she wasn’t happy with your marriage?”

“There were signs of her affair, but I ignored them, because I was so much in love with her,” I replied. I listed off what I had described to Jack and added, “I don’t think she was unhappy. I don’t know why she felt the need to cheat on me. She never gave me a reason as to why.”

“God dammit!” he exclaimed. “I loved you both so much. Why did this have to happen? Do you think you can forgive her and reconcile?”

“It’s too much for me, Bob. She broke our vows, my trust, and everything that was important to me. It would’ve been much easier if she would’ve just told me she didn’t love me and wanted to move on, but to keep acting like we were husband and wife, then cheat behind my back, destroys any chance of repairing our relationship. What would you do, Bob?”

His face saddened as he reflected on my question. “That’s easy for me to answer, because I did forgive Helen when she cheated and I took her back.”

Seeing my look of shock at hearing that Helen had cheated on him, he continued, “It was a little easier because the guilt she felt from cheating convinced her to confess. It was hard for me to understand how it happened, and Kat was only ten, so I didn’t divorce her. Did Kat provide any clue at all as to why she cheated?”

I replied, “She kept insisting it was only sex and had nothing to do with the love she felt for me.”

His face twisted in agony as he painfully explained, “That was Helen’s reason too, and I’m sure Kat heard her repeating it several times, listening to our arguments. It’s probably why Kat thought it was okay.”

“Do you ever regret forgiving her?” I asked, wondering if maybe I’d made a hasty decision to discard years of our otherwise perfect marriage.

“It worked out well for us. We both love Kat so much that we struggled at first but came to terms with it,” he replied, pausing and knowing his next words would nail the coffin in his daughter’s coffin. “With my trust gone with her, I worried each time she’d go somewhere without me. Every time she seemed distant, I’d suspect her. I never caught her cheating again, but it was always in the back of my mind that she’d seize the first opportunity if I weren’t vigilant. It’s no way to have a marriage, and I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.”

The tear in my eye showed him that there was no possible avenue toward reconciliation.

He finished his drink, stood, and shook my hand. “I know how much hatred is in your heart right now, as I’ve been there. Try to remember the good times, and I beg of you, as her father, not to destroy her. I know that with the evidence you have, you could alienate all of her friends and relatives and crush her. As your friend, I ask you not to do that, and in return, I’ll do whatever I can to help you.”

“Thanks, Bob. You’ve always been good to me, and I appreciate you listening to both sides of the story,” I said, as he turned and left.

The rest of the weekend, I received dozens of texts and messages from Kat. After listening to one to ensure it wasn’t something important, I deleted the rest. I thought about blocking her, but I didn’t, unsure of whether I’d need to contact her before the divorce. Her emails got tagged as spam, so it wouldn’t clog up my inbox. Much of the evening, I spent compiling all of our financial records and anything that Jack might need for the proceedings.

Monday at Jack’s office, I was greeted by Lisa with another much-welcome, tight hug. After catching up and talking about my stint in the hospital, we finally turned to business.

Sitting behind his desk, Jack asked, “Did you review and take care of the items on the list I gave you, Dave?”

“Not really. I guess I’ll start this week. Let’s draw up the agreement and proceed with the divorce. I’d like it served to her at one next Saturday, at her parents’ house,” I stipulated.

Jack leaned forward, his tone serious, “Dave, I can’t stress how important it is to lock down your finances. If she obtains an attorney, he or she could preemptively clean you out.”

I let out a heavy sigh, slumping into my chair. “I’ve already lost everything I valued in life, Jack. There’s nothing left to take.”

He stood, walked around, and nodded toward a loveseat along one wall. “Sit there, Dave.” While I changed seats, he stepped out, said something to Lisa, and came back in, Lisa following him. She closed the door, settled on the couch beside me, and wrapped one arm around me.

Lisa was an unbelievably attractive woman, whom, in normal circumstances, I’d be drawn to. More importantly, she was a close friend. The comfort she offered was maternal, her presence setting me at ease.

In a soft, calm voice, she said, “Dave. You’ll get over this with our help. We’ll move forward and make sure you come out of it with a new future. Don’t dwell on what could have been, but rather, build on what can be. We’ll take it slow and go over everything with you. Will you do it for us?”

The combination of her smile, deep blue eyes, and soft fragrance would swoon anyone over, and I was no exception. “You’re right,” I agreed. “It’s time to quit feeling sorry for myself. It’s just that,” I paused, catching my breath, a tear forming in my eye, before finishing, “I loved her so much, I can’t imagine a future without her by my side, but I know now that will never happen.”

Shuffling through the pages I gave him, Jack asked, “No prenup?”

“We didn’t have anything of value when we started, and from how much we loved each other, I couldn’t imagine us ever drifting apart,” I explained.

He replied, “I understand, but I think the smartest move, although it was by accident, was when you made separate accounts for saving for the house. She has about twenty thousand more in hers, so we’ll request the total of the two split down the middle.”

“No,” I disagreed adamantly. “It’s dirty money. Her promotion was probably from whoring with Kevin, so I’d feel like a pimp if I took any of that money from her.”

Jack studied me, searching for the right words to ease my frustration. “I can understand how you’d feel like that,” Jack replied. “You have about fifteen thousand in your joint account to split, and of course, we’ll request your retirement account to be off-limits. How about debts?”

“Let’s leave the joint account alone. She’ll need it to pay off the cards and the rest for the apartment, which the lease ends in two months,” I said.

His brows furrowed, “You’re being awfully generous to someone who cheated on you. Let’s talk spousal support. She makes more than you do, and with the adultery charge, we’ll be in a good position to ask for alimony.”

“No,” I said again, defiantly. “I don’t want any excuse for her to communicate with me. She’s essentially dead to me. I want her out of my life in the shortest amount of time.” Jack and Lisa sat motionless, letting the seconds tick by, absorbing my mood.

Thinking of what Bob asked of me, I added, “No adultery charges, either. Irreconcilable reasons, and I don’t want to use the videos.”

Jack explained, “Actually, we’re in a no-fault state, so the adultery angle doesn’t play into it, but the videos can be useful to convince the offending party to agree to a timely closure. What you’re asking for is less than normal. In fact, it might be a little too good. A judge is likely to recommend counseling sessions, sometimes lasting up to a year.”

“No therapy or counseling,” I said, sternly. “I don’t want this to drag out. If it comes down to that, I’ll authorize the use of the videos to demonstrate there is no way we’ll ever reconcile.”

“Alright, Dave. There’s also a chance we could sue the company under MHRA and Federal Title VII, if we can prove the company was aware of their affair, or if sexual harassment could be proven. Sometimes a company settles, just to shove it under the rug.”

“We won’t do that,” I stated. “They’d probably fire Kat, and it’ll be hard enough for her without her losing her job. I don’t want to destroy her, just be rid of her.”

“Okay, I think we have enough to proceed. Serving on Saturday won’t be a problem. Are you certain she’ll be there?” Jack asked.

“I’ll let you know if she won’t be. I’ll coordinate with her father, Bob, who I’m sure will cooperate to keep her daughter from being embarrassed,” I explained.

I stopped by Human Resources when I arrived at work to remove Kat from everything and to change my online deposit to my savings account, rather than the joint checking. Next stop was the bank to open up a checking account and get new credit cards in my name. When I asked whether I could remove my name from our joint cards, they said I could if I paid off the balance, which I did.

When I arrived home, I composed a note to Bob, hoping he still felt the same way as when I talked to him on Saturday. I wrote, “Bob. I asked the process server to serve Kat at your house on Saturday at one. I delayed it until Saturday, so it wouldn’t happen at her workplace and would be embarrassing for her. If you can’t convince her to be at your house, let me know, and I’ll change it. Additionally, help her obtain new credit cards and assist her in securing a lawyer. Once served, review the decree, and if you’d like to discuss any changes, please let me know. I’m truly sorry it came down to this, Bob, but I think it’s best for both Kat and me.”

Not wanting to sit around and mope any longer, I notified Hank and Ruth I’d be returning to work the next day.

Ruth smiled when I walked into work the next day, greeting me, “Welcome back, Dave. There have been several messages from Kat for you.”

“Delete them and block her number. Also, notify security not to allow her access in the building,” I ordered, my tone firm, matching my unwavering expression.

Her brows furrowed, but as usual, didn’t argue, “No problem, Dave. I’ll take care of it immediately.”

When it was nearly noon, I walked out of my office, ready to get some lunch, when Ruth informed me, “Kat’s been sitting on a bench outside the building since a little after noon.”

I turned to reenter my office and said, “Could you have UberEats deliver a grilled chicken salad? I’ll eat here from now on.”

When I was ready to leave for home, I saw Kat waiting outside on the bench. I elected to go out a different exit, easily avoiding her again. This became my routine for the rest of the week.

The weekend went as expected, with Kat sending a flurry of texts after she was served. On Sunday afternoon, I decided to let Heather know about her husband’s affair. Even though I didn’t have any qualms about telling her, breaking my promise to Kevin, I wanted someone else who was closer to her. Remembering Monica and her were friends, I found her contact number from when we used to dine out together.

Without letting her know the purpose of my visit, I asked, “Monica, would you mind if I talked to you about something tonight? We could meet at a Starbucks or somewhere else. It shouldn’t take long.”

Her voice, filled with excitement mixed with loneliness, replied, “I can’t break away from the house, but why don’t you come to dinner? I’ll have it ready at six.”

I hadn’t planned on spending that much time, but at least it’d give Mom a break from feeding me for one night. “Sure, sounds good.”

After providing me her address, I headed out to arrive at a quarter to. It was a large house in a cul-de-sac located in a very nice neighborhood. A young girl, perhaps around five, was playing in the front yard. I didn’t recall her mentioning a child when we’d dined together, so I wasn’t certain I was at the right house.

When I approached, she said, “Hi, I’m Camila. Who are you?”

I knelt to her height and replied, “I’m Dave. Could you help me out? I’m not sure if I’m at the right address.”

“No, Mommy says I can’t talk to strangers,” she replied, her smile one that could melt hearts.

I remained silent and after she fidgeted for a bit, asked, “Aren’t you going to tell me where you wanted to go?”

“You said we couldn’t talk,” I replied.

She giggled and asked, “Okay, I guess it’d be alright if you tell me who you’re looking for.”

“I’m looking for Monica Williams. Do you know if she lives around here?” I asked.

“My mom is Monica, but her last name is Murphy now. Follow me,” she instructed. She opened the front door and yelled, “Mom, a strange man is here looking for you.”

The sounds of her footsteps signaled her approach, followed by a red-faced Monica. She’d ditched the goth look and wore an attractive sundress that fit her curves perfectly. She was like a different woman than I’d met before. What I saw was an alluring and beautiful woman. “Sorry about that. Camila’s manners can be a little sharp at times. Please come in.”

After I walked in, she looked behind me and seeing no one else, asked, “I didn’t ask, but I assumed Kat would be coming also.”

Her expression softened when she noticed my pained look. “That’s the reason I wanted to talk to you. We’re getting a divorce.”

She gasped, held her hand to her mouth, and asked, “It’s Kevin, isn’t it?”

In a shocked tone, I asked, “You knew? Who told you?” I began to wonder if their affair was common knowledge, and I was more clueless than I’d thought.

Seeing my shock, mixed with a little anger, she apologized, “I’m sorry. It’s just that I know my brother, and from the way he and Kat used to look at each other. I had my suspicions.”

Once the implications set in, she exclaimed, “Oh no! Poor Heather. Does she know?”

“I’m not sure. That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I think we should warn her so she gets a jump on matters. I seem to remember you being friends with her and thought it’d be better if you were with me when I tell her,” I replied.

“Of course, I’ll take tomorrow off and drive over to tell her. Could you go with me?” she asked.

“Sure. My boss is giving me a lot of latitude while I deal with this mess,” I replied.

The dinner was delicious, and with Camila present, we managed to avoid discussing divorces. Her daughter, an absolute delight, filled the conversation with laughter and warmth while she related stories. I couldn’t help but periodically glance at Monica and wonder who was at fault in her divorce. Russ would’ve been an idiot to cheat on such an interesting and beautiful woman. Her silky black hair, framing her heart-shaped face, was very easy on the eyes.

Afterward, Monica told Camila to go to her room and play while she picked up the dishes. I offered to help, but she wouldn’t hear of it. When finished, she led me to the living room, where we sat in comfortable barrel chairs facing each other. After I explained how I found out Kat had cheated on me, she comforted me the best she could, explaining it would get better with time, as it had with her.

She gave me a tour of her house, which reminded me of what Kat and I had discussed. The master bedroom was located on the main floor with three guest bedrooms on the second floor. Two bathrooms upstairs and one in the master bedroom, with another on the main floor. The large living room was centered around a majestic stone fireplace. A formal dining room and den completed the tour.

It was far more house than a mother and child needed, but I was hesitant to say it; instead, I commented, “You have a beautiful house. It’s almost exactly what Kat and I had talked about getting before.”

I stopped, unable to finish. She reached out, placed her hand on my arm, and softly consoled, “I know how much it hurts. You’re still young and can make a new life. I’ve thought about selling it as Camila and I don’t need something so large, but I love it too much. We bought it with the idea that we’d have three children, but that didn’t come to be.”

My eyes glistened as I fought back the tears, knowing that Kat and I also planned on a set of kids. Monica read my expression and asked, “You too? I’m sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s fine,” I replied. “It’ll just take some time, getting used to having all the things I had planned destroyed. You seem to have recovered nicely, so maybe there’s hope.”

“There are still some rough patches, but it becomes easier each day, and of course, with Camila, my mind is occupied with her a lot of the time.

We bid farewell, and that evening I sent a note to Ruth telling her I’d need to take off Monday and Tuesday. When I arrived at Monica’s, she apologized that she couldn’t find a sitter for Camila. She asked if I’d mind putting a booster seat in my car for her daughter, and I quickly agreed. She had an extra from her husband’s car, stored in the garage. After installing it, we took off for Heather’s. When she voiced her concern about Camila being present when we talked to Heather, I offered to have my mom take care of her. She readily agreed, and before long, we pulled up to Mom’s place.