Cliché 2 - the Receipt

by oldgrump

Copyright© 2019 by oldgrump

Drama Story: All of the cheating stories have their clichés - I came home unexpectedly - she (or he) stopped or slowed way down on sex - he (or she) started using anything for an excuse to start an argument - bills from hotels that you had not been to - gas receipts from areas that your spouse wasn't supposed be in. They are clichés because any and all of them have happened enough that they become somewhat commonplace reasons for adulterous divorces. Mine happened just that way.

Tags: Blackmail   Fiction   Crime   Cheating   Revenge  

Edited by Barney R. Spell and grammar checked by Grammarly


Description: All of the cheating stories have their clichés – I came home unexpectedly – she (or he) stopped or slowed way down on sex – he (or she) started using anything for an excuse to start an argument – bills from hotels that you had not been to – gas receipts from areas that your spouse wasn’t supposed to be in. They are clichés because any and all of them have happened enough that they become somewhat commonplace reasons for adulterous divorces. Mine happened just that way.


I had come to the house to collect some papers for a patent application when I found the receipt. I accidentally knocked a file folder off of the desk in our home office. I was putting the papers back when I saw a receipt for a credit card that I did not know we had. The receipt was for a gas station on the opposite side of the county. The date was a day that Jane said she was in her office all day. I knew my marriage was in trouble, if not over.

I am Albertino Castillini 34 and married to Jane Castillini (nee Roma) 30. I am not ‘connected’ but I know and am related to some who are. We have no children as Jane said she was not ready. From what I see on the receipt, there will be no children.

I am an engineer and inventor. I hold 20+ patents for a lot of simple, but useful pieces of electronic gear that make industrial maintenance easier and more efficient. I am also someone who decides on a course of action and does everything he can to reach the end objective.

Jane is an account clerk with a local CPA office. Her job does not call for her to leave the office. She insisted on working, even though I had more money than some minor cities. She said that she was not a ‘stay at home’ type of wife.


I met Jane Roma when she was 25, and her car broke down outside of my office/workshop. She had run her car through a huge puddle and drowned the ignition. I offered to drive her to where she wanted to go.

I explained to her that short of replacing the wiring harness and distributor cap, she would not be driving her car until everything dried out. She finally agreed.

We then pushed the car into the parking lot and I took her to the office where she worked. I agreed to pick her up when my day was over. I did not tell her that I was the boss and the hired help. I just asked what time her workday was over.

When I returned to my workshop, I took the wet ignition parts from Jane’s car and took them into my shop. Being inside and warm the parts dried quickly. When dry, I replaced the parts.

I picked Jane up and took her back to her car. When it started right up, she asked what she owed me. As she was and is a good looking woman, I said that there was no charge, but if she wanted to return the favor, she could allow me to take her to dinner some evening. She agreed.

For that dinner I took Jane to my Uncle Vincent’s place, ‘A Touch of Italian’, it is probably the best Italian restaurant in the county. It turned out to be a great, if somewhat embarrassing, evening. Aunt Celia came out of the kitchen and gave me the ‘you’re so cute’ cheek squeeze. Then she said; “Bertie, it’s much too long for you to come here. Is this your new girlfriend?”

Jane laughed and I blushed. Then Jane told Aunt Celia, “I’m not his girlfriend, yet, but I am glad to see that he can blush. I am paying back a very big favor that ‘Bertie’ did for me.” She said ‘Bertie’ with just a bit of a ‘rub it in’ smile.

I just took it as it was meant, a teasing gesture.


We dated for nine months, me exclusively, and I thought Jane said she was too. We had many great times, she never refused a date with me, and on Valentine’s Day at Uncle Vincent’s, I ask her to marry me. I got a shock when she said she was not ready.

I was hurt and asked what was missing that would let her get ready. I was shocked again when she said that she needed to be exclusive to the man she was to marry.

I was devastated. I was angry. I asked Jane, that if she had not been exclusive to me, why did she let me think she was being exclusive. And when did she have time to date, other than weeknights.

Jane angrily came back with; “I never said I was exclusive, I am dating others. You are the main guy, but I am not ready to be exclusive, much less get married.” She added; “If I was ready, you would be the one.”

That really did not make me feel better. I said; “I have been exclusive from the first two weeks we were dating, you have been with me every time I asked. I told you I was exclusive. I wish you had been more upfront with me. I now know where I stand.” I continued; “Because of finding that you have been dating others without telling me, I will not be worried about dating you anymore. Consider this our breakup.” I walked out of the restaurant and drove back to my house.


I did not talk to Jane again for almost seven months. I never saw her during that time, except at a distance. When I finally got close to her, it was a real accident. I was running down one of the streets in our town. I turned a corner to start running back to my house. There she was and I fell over into the gutter trying to avoid running her over. In the process of trying to stop my fall, I broke my right forearm and my left wrist. I was in pain and disoriented.

Jane helped me up after she stopped laughing. Then she noticed that I was in extreme pain. She called an ambulance and made me sit on a window box that was in front of the corner storefront. I later learned that I passed out a couple of times.

The paramedics loaded me into the ambulance. That was the last thing I remember until I woke in a room that had curtains in the typical hospital area. The doctor came in and informed me that they were taking me into surgery, but they wanted to wait until I regained consciousness. He explained that they were not sure why I passed out and were worried about why I became unconscious in the first place.

He went on to explain that the wrist fracture was a simple one. He explained that he was planning on using a stainless rod to fix the major forearm bone that was broken in several places. He also said that because there was no internal bleeding and no head injury, he believed that the consciousness problem was most likely from shock. He said that since my athletic activity-induced blood pressure was normally very low, I was much more prone to shock.

When I came awake, I was in the recovery room. The doctor told me everything went well, and other than some major scars at the surgical sites, I will be as good as new. He then said that he wanted me to stay in the hospital for a couple of days to ensure that I don’t develop an infection.

Once I was in the room, I called my parents, and they said they would come into town the next day to visit. I called Jane’s parents and asked if I could have Jane’s phone number. They told me they did not give that out but would tell her I called. I did not tell them why I was asking.

Just as I got off the phone, Jane walked into my room. She looked like she had been worried about me; at least I assumed it was me she was worried about. The first thing she did was try to apologize for laughing when I fell.

I waved it off and told her that it was pretty funny until we both realized that I was hurt. Then I commented that from now on, I would confine my running to a track.

Jane then asked what the damage was and recovery was going to involve.

I told her what the doctor had told me.

Jane then told me that I had passed out a couple of times while we were waiting for the paramedics. She asked if the doctor had said anything.

I explained about the low blood pressure.


Jane was in my room every evening. She was there when I had a big setback; I had started talking incoherently. The doctors discovered that I had an infection at the surgical site. It was virulent because of my weakened condition.

I ended staying in the hospital for over two weeks. The stitches came out after the infection occurred. The surgical sites were left open to allow drainage. When the infection was gone, the sites were restitched.

When I finally went home, Jane was over to my house as much as she could be. She even stayed in one of my spare bedrooms during the week. One evening I got up the nerve to ask her why.

“I made a series of major mistakes when I told you I was dating others. I was afraid of the deep feelings I was developing for you. I was also afraid of the feelings for me I saw developing in you. I thought that by making you think that I was dating others, I thought that I could somehow slow those feelings down because of the pretend others. When you basically told me to kiss off, I discovered that I was wrong. The feelings were as strong or stronger, and you were gone.”

I then said, “Would you like to go out with me sometime once I am capable of doing for myself again?”

“Yes,” she said, “I want that very much. Just let me know as soon as the doctor says you can go back to normal. In the meantime, I want to help you as much as you will let me.”

“I’m just about ready to go to the rehab appointments that I need for the broken arm. There was some muscle damage and I need to exercise to bring it back to normal. The problem is I can’t drive, and I can’t reserve a taxi for the times I need to go. Could you possibly drive me a few times?”

“Sure, I want to very much”

Until the casts came off Jane was my chauffeur, chef, maid, bath attendant, and ass wiper. I had no way to keeps secrets from her. She did go home to her apartment on the weekends. The ultimate embarrassment; my mother, took over on the weekends.

My casts were finally taken off after 5 weeks. Jane went back to stay in her apartment. I continued my rehab and found that I enjoyed working out. When rehab ended and I could, I joined a local fitness center, and while I still jog, I use the high school track, there are no curbs to fall off of.


When Jane and I started dating again, I only asked her out once every couple of weeks or so. I was still hurt about her non-exclusive ploy.

After about 2 months, Jane confronted me at my uncle’s place about my apparent lack of commitment. “Why are we only going out occasionally? Don’t you want to go out with me?”

“I want that more than anything in the world, but I am not going to be the one to be made a fool of again; so, until you ask me to be exclusive, we can either continue as we have been, or we can split up for good. If you decide that we need to see each other more, you need to commit.”

That went over like a cow pie on the walking path. Jane, without saying a word, got up and walked out of the restaurant. I did not hear or see her for almost a month. I did not call her and while I knew she was talking to my mother, my mom knew better than to try to intercede.

I was at my shop when the phone rang. It was Jane, and she was pissed. “Asshole, why haven’t you called?”

“It’s good to talk to you to Jane. I haven’t called because your leaving in the middle of A GODDAMN DATE told me that we were through. Are you saying we are not through?” All I heard was a click as she hung up the phone.


If that was the end, then this would be a very short story.


Jane called again a week or so later and apologized for leaving the date, and for hanging up on me. Then she said words that knocked me on my ass. “Bertie, I love you, but you have an annoying habit of being right all the fucking time. I lied and you took it. I left and you took it. I got mad and you took it. Then you explained why and I got mad again. You make me crazy because you never seem to get angry even when I hurt you. I love you asshole, and if it takes the rest of my life I’m going to marry you. What do you think of that; huh?”

“Yes” and then I heard the phone drop and a deep belly laugh came from the dropped phone. Then all I heard was a click.

15 minutes later my shop door burst open and Jane jumped into my lap. She kissed me, cried, kissed me again and cried some more. She was trying to talk and kiss me and hug me and punch me in the chest all at the same time.

When she finally calmed down, I got her going again when I said “My love I needed the kisses but you punch like a girl. You need to put more emotion behind the punch. Do you want me to show you?”

She started laughing and crying again and finally said “I AM EXCLUSIVE. Is that ok? I love you, I want you, and I need you.”

Being the eloquent soul that I am, I said “Yes.” Then I picked her up and kissed her as I carried her to my car. I opened the door, reached into the console and brought out a ring box that had been with me for more than 2 years. I set Jane on the hood of my car and slipped the ring on her finger and said; “Jane Roma, you are the reason I breathe, the reason I wake up in the morning, the reason I watch the stars at night. I want you in my life; I want you to be my life. I need you for my partner. Will you marry me?”

Being just as articulate as I was she answered; “Yes.”


We invited every one of our local family to dinner at Vincent’s. Once we informed them of our engagement, I was shuffled off with all of the other men for what I assumed was going to be a female battle plan.

We did all of the moderately normal things. Jane had a bridal shower, I had a bachelor party, both of which were tame by modern standards. I heard that there was not a male stripper at the shower, and there was not a stripper of any kind at my party. I did not even get drunk, though some of my guys did. I had one beer and I made it last all evening.

We set a date for the following May and were married by the local Bishop. The church, the flowers, and the bridesmaids were beautiful, but I only saw the black-haired beauty that was to be my wife that day.

We honeymooned in Sicily and stayed at a distant cousin’s villa. It was a glorious month. We did a lot of touristy things, but mostly we enjoyed discovering my heritage. We then spent a couple of weeks at Jane’s relatives in northern Italy. We saw Venice, Naples, and a lot of mountains and olive groves.

We returned to the rat race in the middle of summer. Jane wanted to start working, and I had no real good reason to complain. We made passionate love at every chance we could.


Things were going great until Jane changed jobs and got work at the CPA’s offices. Then things started going downhill. She started to pick arguments and denigrate my inventions. The only thing she fought about was that she wanted to use my money to live a rich man’s lifestyle. She was pissed when she found out that I was drawing a salary and that my company owned all of the patents, the shop, and my house. I did give myself an unreasonable raise, but Jane seemed determined to spend more than we made.

I stopped those arguments when I gave Jane a debit card with a daily limit and told her that from then on, she was to either contribute half of the living expenses or quit working. She ran home to mama.

Mama would have none of it. She called me and when I told her what we were fighting about, she cut up Jane’s debit card and sent her back to me.

Things got even frostier when I showed her how much half of the expenses were from the previous month. They were several hundred dollars more than her entire take-home money. The spending was immediately under control.

Then Jane started to complain about just about everything. We did not go out, we did not entertain, we did not...

Things in our love life got frosty also. I had finally heard enough of; I’m too tired, I’m not in the mood, I not...

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