Chapter 1

I had just finished my lecture in my Thursday afternoon class on economic theory when Ann walked up to the lectern. Ann is beautiful. Not run way model beautiful but country girl pretty. She always wears jeans and cowboy boots. Today she has on a pretty summer blouse that shows just a little cleavage. It is hard to hide those 34-c breasts! Her hair is light brown with just the right amount of blonde highlights. If I was not married maybe. Know what I mean?

“Dr. Jones I saw your wife today.”

I look up into her steel gray eyes, “Where? In the mall?”

“No. My partner and I have a house up at the lake. She likes to suntan on the deck while I fish. You like to fish Doctor?”

“Not really. But why do you think you saw my wife?”

“Your vanity plate, DR.ECON.” I had taken Sue’s car in this morning to be serviced. She was in my car.

“You’re wife has short blonde hair right?”

“Yes, so where did you see her?”

“She pulled up just as I was leaving this morning. She parked in the drive next door and went in the house. Does she fish?”

“No. Ann do you know who owns that property.”

“Of course. Tyrone Williams, the football player. You guys friends?”

“No. he was a patient of my wife’s a couple of months ago. She’s a nurse. He was on her floor.” I imagine Ann saw the distress on my face.

As she walked towards the door she stopped and said, “Dr. you be careful. Tyrone is about 6’ 3” tall and weighs maybe 235. He plays middle linebacker on the local pro team and this guy is mean. He was thrown out of two games last season for un-necessary roughness.”

I derived two things from that short conversation. First Ann is a lesbian! I would have never guessed! Partner, SHE likes to suntan! No big deal. To each his own I guess.

The other thing is that my wife of 6 years is cheating, AGAIN! Now I need to explain before you think I am one of those characters in some internet story who likes to watch or lets his slut wife run around while he sits at home with the kids. I am nothing like that.

I met Sue the year she graduated nursing school. I had just received my Ph.D. in Economics. Her dad was a big time heart transplant surgeon and had made lots of money over the years. Sue had told him I was a Doctor. When he found out that I was not a medical doctor he was pissed. He demanded I sign a pre-nup. He was thinking I was after his money. Both Sue and I signed. I stuck our copy in a drawer where it stayed for the next couple of years.

Sue got pregnant and had our baby girl during our first year of marriage. No problems. Dr. Heart, his vanity plate, helped us buy a nice house and everything was going like we had planned.

Then when Sue stopped breast feeding her pretty 34-b breasts pointed to the floor! She worked a deal out with a plastic surgeon at the hospital and had a boob job! I did ask about the costs. She told me not to worry she had worked out a deal with the doctor. I asked what kind of deal.

“Just something between medical professionals,” was all I got for an answer.

About a week after her boob job I had to drive her to the hospital for her first post-op exam. When the nurse called her name I got up to go with her. The nurse stopped me and said only the Sue was allowed back with the doctor. Then Sue and she exchanged a smile. What the hell was that about?

Okay, I sat down and waited. It seemed like it took a long time. When Sue finally came out she was grinning and this doctor was also grinning. When he saw me he had this funny look on his face. Like he knew something I didn’t.

In the car I noticed that Sue had used a mouthwash. I asked about that.

“When he took off the bra and the bandages he squeezed my breasts really hard. It surprised me and it hurt. I threw up in his sink from the pain. This mouthwash is standard in the hospital. It’s under every sink.”

I thought okay I can believe that. When I got home I ordered one of those DNA kits. I had my baby girl checked. I am the father.

I few more times over the next five or six months I smelled that same mouthwash on her breath. When I asked it was always, “I had the spaghetti for lunch, or the tacos.” I believed her. I mean she didn’t want to have bad breath when tending to her patients. Right? I drove by the hospital parking lot on my lunch hour. Her car was always there.

About five months later she made a strange remark at supper.

“I guess Dr. Bells (the plastic surgeon) is out of my life. He accepted a job with a clinic on the West Coast. He, his wife and kids have moved.

I did ask why she said he was out of HER life and she said that she just meant that if she had any problems with her implants she would have to look for another surgeon. Yeah right!

Things cruised along fine for the next year or so. Now I did smell that mouthwash on her breath a few times. But what should I have done? I would look like a fool in divorce court complaining about my wife’s mouthwash! If I was going to enforce the pre-nup I had to have “irrefutable proof” that she was cheating.

On our daughters third birthday I went and picked up little Becky and drove over to the hospital. We were going to have a birthday celebration at Mickey Dee’s, my daughter’s favorite restaurant.

There on the steps at the side entrance was Sue. There was another man standing close to her. Too close!

It looked like they were having a deep conversation. I blew the horn and she turned and looked surprised to see me! She said something to this guy who looked to be Chinese then ran to the car. When she got in I asked her what that was all about.

“Oh, that’s just Feng. He’s one of the students here. I gave him a bad grade on his bedside manner and he’s pissed. He’ll get over it. He graduates in a month and then he will be someone else’s problem.”

We made it to the restaurant and had a nice celebration. I took Sue back to the hospital and Becky back home to the nanny. I made it back to the university in time for my afternoon classes.

The next morning I called the hospital. They are not a teaching hospital. Sue lied! Still not proof of anything.

For the next year and a half, life was great! Sue was always home when I got there and though I did smell the mouthwash on her breath every now and then I wrote it off to her having a chili cheese dog at lunch.

A couple of months ago she came home all excited. There was a celebrity on her floor! Tyrone “The Beast” Williams was in the hospital undergoing some tests. He was a professional football player. He had been an All American in college then for the first 3 years he was All-Pro. I do not follow football so I was not impressed. I should have been!

This is the same Tyrone that Ann said owned the house next door to her on the lake. The house my wife had visited this morning!

I get home and find our daughter, who is almost 5 years old now sitting in front of the television watching a cartoon movie.

“Where’s mommy?”

“She has a headache and is upstairs in your bedroom.”

I start thinking. Thursday is what she calls one of her “ME” days. She is off work and instead of staying home with her baby girl she goes shopping, has lunch with a couple of her friends from the hospital then is home by the time I get here at 5pm. I need to check something.

In my home office I pull up my diary. There it is! Every Thursday for the past 7 Thursdays she has come home with a headache, or some other excuse for why we cannot make love! Usually it is Saturday or on a couple of occasions it was Sunday before we made love. I feel stupid! I should have picked up on that! But now that I know I may be able to get that ‘irrefutable’ proof that my attorney said I would need.

I knocked on the bathroom door and asked if she was all right or needed anything. She said no that she just need to relax and see if her headache would go away. She asked me to take care of Becky tonight. I agreed and went back downstairs.

The nanny had left supper for us so I fed the baby then got her bathed and in bed. I killed time on the internet finding out all I could about Tyrone Williams.

At around 11pm I showered and went in and got in bed next to Sue. I knew she was awake but she was pretending to sleep. I let the cheating slut sleep.