Small things make all of the difference in the world to a person's mental state. Take for example the sound of eight very precise pistons moving back and forth in their own respective cylinders. The output of that movement, funneled through a specially tuned exhaust system creates a mechanical symphony of sorts. That sound might be considered to be a loud and un-necessary noise, by a person who wants to relax and have quiet or simply isn't atuned to it. But it can also be viewed as being very musical and calming in nature by the person directing that sound and its volume by a slight twitch of their foot on their Mustang's accelerator pedal.

My Black 06 GT was propelling me rapidly down the road to a place that I neither wanted to visit, or saw the purpose of. I was headed for the office of Dr. H. M. Martin, a therapist who specialized in Family counseling and emotional disorders. I foolishly thought that my marriage was humming along like those eight synchronised pistons, but I was wrong.

My name is Scott Jennings, I'm 38 years old. I'm currently 5' 9" tall and a shade over 170lbs. I'm also currently in the process of divorcing my wife of the past 17 years. I cited irreconcilable differences because we live in a no-fault divorce state, so the reason doesn't matter. I figured that irreconcilable differences was vague enough that she'd let it go through, since it wouldn't disclose the true reason and embarrass her.

Actually, Becky cheated on me, and I was willing to do anything on God's green earth to get away from the bitch. She on the other hand was singing a verse of the, "Oh Scotty I love you. I made a mistake. I don't want a divorce blues." Unfortunately that wasn't the kind of music I enjoyed, so I wasn't buying it.

She'd hired a lawyer and a pretty good one. They were doing everything they could to delay the process, but I knew that all I had to do was fight my way through it and I'd be free.

I pulled into the parking lot in front of a nice looking building. The Mustang's low growl attracted a lot of attention. I got out, locked the car and headed for the building's lobby. Just as I got to the doorway, I saw Becky's Dad pull into the lot in his Buick. I waved at him, and dropped my hand, as Becky waved at me too.

I was in the elevator, when I heard her yell for me to hold the door. I snickered and pushed the button to close it. There was just no way I wanted to be trapped in an elevator with her. When I got to the fifth floor I looked around and found the office. I went in and smiled at the receptionist. She gave me a form to fill out. She looked at my form when I returned it to her, and laughed out loud.

My answer to one of the questions had made her laugh. I was sure that I knew which one. The form had asked about the reason for this visit and I'd written, "Obtaining freedom from a cheating Bitch."

We were still smiling and laughing when Becky walked into the office. "We were just talking about you," I said, sitting down in an isolated chair in the waiting room. The receptionist started giggling again, as she handed Becky the same form I'd just filled out.

After a few minutes the receptionist told us we could go in and see Dr. Martin. I walked into the room and looked around. I'd never been in a therapist's office before and was underwhelmed. Besides the famous couch that I'd expected, there were a couple of chairs facing each other and another chair behind a desk for the doctor.

"Sit wherever you'd like," said Dr. Martin.

Becky looked around and sat on the couch. So I took one of the chairs. She immediately got up and sat in the other chair. I moved to the couch. Becky followed me and by that time Dr. Martin told us to just please find a seat and stay in it. I sat in the chair behind the desk.

I think that surprised both Becky and Dr. Martin. "Wouldn't you be more comfortable in one of those chairs or the sofa?" he asked.

"No, I'm fine here," I said.

"Some of the exercises we'll be doing require you to speak directly to your partner," said Dr. Martin. "In order for us to reach the desired results, participation is a must."

"First off," I said. "We need to be very clear about the desired results. We are not all working for the same things here. For me, being as honest as possible. I don't want to have anything further to do with Rebecca. I'm here only because the court ordered it. Perhaps in some ways I'd like to know why she did what she did. But that is of course secondary to my goal of freedom. The reality of it all is that she lied to me and cheated on me, probably for years, so I'm not locked in on needing a straight answer from her, but if one is forthcoming I'll take it." I looked him straight in the eye so he could see that I was being as honest as I could.

"The judge gave us counseling, twice a week for a month to see if our differences could be settled, and believe me they can't. I'm only here so the court looks favorably on me and gives me a better settlement. I've been nice so far. But that won't last for long. So I'll sit here if you don't mind because I won't be staring into her eyes and holding hands with her under any circumstances."

"Are you afraid of your wife?" he asked.

"Not unless, you consider being hesitant to pick up a stray venereal disease as fear," I said. "I just consider it prudent."

The hairs on my back stood up as I noticed how Dr. Martin paled when I mentioned picking up a disease from Becky.

"Then what do you have to lose?" he asked after regaining his equilibrium.

"What do I stand to gain?" I asked back.

"Well you could possibly get your marriage back on track, and get your wife back," he said firmly.

"I don't want either of those things," I said.

"Why not?" he asked. "Most of us long for companionship, intimacy, and love. It's a part of the human condition. What makes you different?"

"I'm not," I said. "I want those things very badly. I just need to get rid of Becky's cheating ass so I can go find them."

I heard Becky sigh when I said that, and realized that I had struck a nerve. She still wanted us back together badly. I couldn't figure out why though. Were suckers that hard to find?

"Okay, we're not making any progress with this line of discussion, so why don't we just concede the seating arrangements, and talk," he said. "Mrs. Jennings why don't we start with you. What do you hope to accomplish during our course of treatment?"

Becky stood up like a schoolgirl reciting her lines in the school play. "I want to try and open the lines of communication between my husband and I, and repair the damage done to our marriage. I want us to work past this, and live out our lives together. I want us to grow old together and have kids together. Scotty is hurt but he knows that I love him more than anyone or anything. I hate to have gone to this extreme, but he has refused to speak to me except through our attorneys. I wasn't even allowed to apologize for my actions, or ask his forgiveness," she tried to look at me as she said this but I refused to even make eye contact with her.

"The thing that bothers me the most, and that I also hope to work through, is my husband's reaction to what went on. I mean I know that I made a mistake. I also know it was a big one, but I can't give up on us because he's all I want. I know that my actions made me look like a slut. But Scotty just threw me away like I was garbage. One mistake after 17 years together, and there was simply no communication. We didn't talk about it, just game over, get the fuck out of my house and never come back. It hurt me very badly."

Becky's eyes started to tear up. And I couldn't help it, I laughed. I started clapping my hands and applauding.

Dr. Martin offered Becky a tissue, and looked at me. "Mr. Jennings please try to refrain from negative impulses. You both need to view this area as a safe zone, where we can all be completely honest about our feelings and our thoughts. You probably wouldn't like it very much if your wife derided every comment you make, so please don't to that to her." He looked at Becky again to see if she was still upset.

"Okay, Mr. Jennings, why don't you tell us what you'd like to see come out of this therapy."

I looked down at the floor, as if in deep thought. I cradled my chin in my hand, like the great thinkers do, then I looked up and smiling asked a question. "I'm supposed to be perfectly honest, right?" They both nodded their heads. "No one will think less of me or judge me right?" They nodded again.

"Well, okay," I said really quietly as if I was ashamed to say it. "Despite what I said earlier, deep down inside of me, what I really want is..." And I hesitated here.

"You can tell us," said Dr. Martin.

"Yes, honey, get it out," echoed Becky. They were both leaning forwards in their seats.

"That cum sucking whore, the fuck out of my life, with a quickness," I smiled.

Becky's face fell and she started crying out loud.

"Whew, you're right Doc. It feels really good to get my feelings out there," I said smiling and fanning my face with my hands. "What a relief."

"Let's try something different," said Dr. Martin. "Mrs. Jennings, a question. How did you feel about your husband the day you married him?"

Becky tried looking at me again as she spoke. "I loved him, very much," she said.

"And how do you feel about him now?" asked Dr. Martin.

"I love him so much more now," said Becky tearing up. "I wish he didn't work so much. He doesn't seem to be able to separate his life from his job. Sometimes I think he's married to his job and I'm just an appliance that he uses when he gets home."

Her eyes seemed forever on the verge of tears. "When we first got together I knew that I loved him, but now it's a deeper kind of love. It's been forged by 17 years of being together through good times and bad times. I feel like Scotty is a part of me. I don't think I could ever figure out how to live without him."

"Mr. Jennings," he asked. "How did you feel about your wife when you first got married?"

I hesitated because I couldn't see where he was going with this. "I loved her so much that I could hardly breathe." I said.

"How did you feel about her the day before the incident that ruined your marriage?" he asked.

"Well, I loved her even more. Like she said, when we were first married, it was a teen-aged kind of thing. It was full of optimism and hope, but it wasn't really based in reality. Maybe you can say that it was superficial, because it was only the top layer. But after 17 years a person just gets so much further inside of your mind and your body and even your personality that they become a part of you. I understand what Becky was trying to say, I feel like if she had died, I wouldn't have been able to last much longer either. At least I wouldn't have wanted to. And while we're on the subject of my job, I hate my fucking job. I go there because I make good money and we need it to afford the house that Becky wanted and the vacations that she loves, and her car and all of that shit that we've accumulated. Yes Becky has control of the hours she works, but Becky's job can't pay for even half of our mortgage payment. I work hard and work a lot of hours because I wanted her to have a good life and be happy. I don't work the way I do for me, I'd be happy living in a one bedroom apartment as long as I had a garage for my stang and Becky with me."

"I never knew that," gasped Becky, she reached for me. "All of these years together I just thought you liked it. I never knew you did it for me."

I moved even further away from her. "Well it was all fucking wasted though, wasn't it? But don't feel bad, we were both in the dark. You never knew I hated my job. I never knew you were an unfaithful slut. We've both learned a lesson so let's get on with our lives," I said. "You can find yourself an unemployed guy, and I'll find myself a woman who loves me enough to keep her legs closed when I'm not around." Becky sobbed and leaned clser to me. I scooted my chair in the opposite direction.

"Mr. Jennings, how do you feel about your wife now?" asked Dr. Martin.

"I can't stand the sight of her," I snapped. "The thought of touching her makes my skin crawl. The day I came home and caught her, I must've taken 10 showers and just couldn't get myself clean. I threw away all of the furniture in the living room and burned it. Then I burned the mattresses on all of the beds in the house. I slept in my Mustang for two days until I got a new mattress, and new linen. Right now I'm in the process of re painting all of the rooms in the house. Then I'm going to replace every piece of furniture in the house. I need to get rid of her, get over her, and then replace her too."

I turned and looked at Becky. "I'm really lucky in some respects because, this happened while I'm still young enough, to start over and still do all of the things I wanted to do with my life. When I replace her I can still have kids. I want to be a great dad. All I need to find is a great mom." Becky's tears started to fall as she listened to me. The look on her face told me that she was in agony.

"In a few years I'll have moved far enough up my company's ladder that I won't have to travel at all and I'll be able to take those long family vacations that we always talked about, only I'll be doing them with someone who deserves it." Becky was openly crying now.

"Mr. Jennings, do you think it's possible to go from the deep kind of love you just admitted that you felt for your wife, a day before the incident, to the kind of incendiary loathing you claim to feel for her, overnight or over the course of your separation? It took 17 years for your love to deepen to that level. That kind of emotion can't be destroyed in only a few weeks time. I think that you're just angry and confused right now. Is that possible?"

"Fuck no!" I shouted. "That is pure psychobabble. It wasn't over the course of a few weeks. It was instantaneously gone. When I walked into my living room and saw her with those guys and the look on her face, it was all I could do not to vomit. All of those assholes scattered like roaches when they noticed I was there. Not one of them had the balls to even face me. Most of them left their clothes and wallets there, so I know that they lived pretty close. One of them was my next door neighbor who I considered a friend. I just gathered up all of their wallets, and gave them to my attorney. I didn't even get most of their names. But as soon as I come to terms with the whore, I'll be looking into my revenge on them as well," I said. I noticed that both Dr. Martin and Becky looked very tense when I said that.

"After I told Becky to pack her shit and get out, I did actually vomit. And I felt better afterwards. It was like when you've eaten something that doesn't agree with you, and your stomach purges it. I truly believe that I vomited away all of my feelings for Becky. The sight of her in the living room burned away all of the surface feelings. Vomiting purged all of the deeper ones. Very soon I'll be totally free of her. As soon as I can get this divorce over with, I'll take a few months off and start looking into some of the things, and people I'd like to explore for the rest of my life."

"Well this is a good place to end our first session," said Dr. Martin. "We really didn't make nearly as much progress as I'd hoped for. But at least we learned what the two of you hope to accomplish. I need to think about what we've learned today. And I have a homework assignment I'd like you to do during the week until our next session. I want the two of you to talk..."

"Not going to happen," I snapped before he could complete his statement.

"What do you mean?" he asked. He was surprised by both my tone and by the fact that I cut him off before he could even finish.

"According to the judge, I have to attend these fucking sessions or be held in contempt of court. I didn't want to be here at first and I still don't now. I will attend the sessions until they either end, or you figure out that you can't fucking fix us. But that's it. The judge did not say I had to do homework or talk to her. I only have to be here. See you Friday." I got up and left the room. I did stop for a few minutes to talk to the receptionist on the way out. And I noticed that Becky was in the room with Martin even longer than I spent with the receptionist. I wondered what they still had to talk about after our session was over.

I went back to work and checked over my sales reports. My numbers were still very good even if you didn't consider the fact that I'd missed three days of work, taking care of my personal issues after throwing Becky out of the house. If I hadn't taken those days off, I might've set another sales record for the month. As it was I'd still be the top salesman again.

About halfway through the afternoon, my phone rang. I looked at the caller I.D. and saw my in laws number. I knew Becky was staying with them so I let it go to voicemail. A few minutes later Krystal, the secretary I shared with three other salesmen came over to my cubicle and told me I had a call on line four.

"Krys, I told you a few days ago not to put any calls from Becky through," I said reminding her. Krys was cute but she wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer and sometimes she forgot things.

"It's not your wife, it's her mom," said Krys. I thought about it for a few minutes and decided to take the call.

"Hello, Martha," I said into the phone.

"Scott, can we talk about this?" she asked quietly.

"I'm listening," I said.

"Have we come that far?" she asked. "I know that you and Rebecca are having some issues. But are things so bad between "us," that "we," can't sit down and talk?"

"No Ma'am," I said. "I'm perfectly willing to talk, as long as Becky won't be there. Would you mind if we did it on neutral ground since I know that she's staying with you."

"No problem, at all," she said. "Do you still like Texas Roadhouse?"

"Still my favorite," I said. "Some things never change. They start out great and stay that way."

"Yeah, I always thought that you and Becky were like that," she said sadly. "How about 4 o'clock?"

"I'll see you there," I said. I wondered what Martha would want to talk about. Becky's parents Martha and Jonathon Kent were straight shooters. I knew that there'd be no deception or bullshit out of her. It would be a good chance for me to tell them my side of it, and see how they wanted to handle things. I was sure that they'd have to pay for Becky's lawyers etc. and let her stay with them for a while, so they had a stake in this too. Maybe I could get Martha to see reason and get Becky to stop trying to fight the divorce and just let me go.

Texas Roadhouse is a great steak place. They serve other things of course but their steaks are really what put them on the map. They have a festive Western décor and the waitresses and waiters have a lot of personality. They make dining there an experience. Becky and I had been coming to this particular one for as long as they'd been open. We'd tried a couple of the other locations but this one just seemed like home. We knew a lot of the wait staff by name.

When Martha joined me, she smiled and just stood there in front of the table. I'd forgotten my manners and standing there was her polite way of letting me know it. I quickly rose, hugged her warmly and pulled out her chair for her.

Martha had more class in her toenails than her daughter had in her entire body. I wondered what had happened to make Becky fall so far from the tree.

We skipped appetizers and went straight to the main menu. Our waitress, Shelly was an old friend of ours. Becky hated Shelly and always told me that Shelly had the hots for me. I had never seen any evidence of that, but looking at Shelly, I kind of wished that it had been true.

I ordered for both of us. I ordered the Grilled Salmon that Martha loved and Steak Medallions with both Peppercorn and Mushroom sauce for myself. Shelly adjusted my collar as she left.

"That girl likes you," said Martha.

"Martha what are you talking about? She was just being a good waitress," I said.

"Okay what's going on with you and Becky that's bad enough that you two need to go into counseling?" she asked changing the subject.

"Becky didn't tell you?" I asked.

"She just said that after 17 years, you two needed a break for a little while, so she'd come home for a few days," said Martha. "She's been in my guest room for nearly three weeks. And now you guys are in counseling. Jonathon and I have been married for almost forty years and have never been away from each other for more than a day or two. We've had a few arguments, but we always worked our way through them without needing help from anyone else. You do know of course that we're always there for either of you to come and talk to."

"Martha, I just wished that I had married you instead of Becky," I smiled.

"Scott, you love my daughter. Maybe a little too much, you let her push you around too much," she said. "So what's the problem now?"

We were interrupted as our food arrived. We hadn't ordered drinks but Shelly knew us well enough to bring me a Pepsi, and an Iced Tea for Martha.

"Martha, I don't think I'm the one to tell you what happened between us. That's up to Becky, but suffice it to say that it's far more serious than she's led you to believe. I don't even know if she's told you this, but I've filed for a divorce. We couldn't come to terms because Becky has been fighting the divorce as hard as she could. The court ordered us into the counseling to see if we could work through our differences. I really want the divorce to go through. I was hoping that after our talk today you'd be able to help me to convince Becky to just let me go, because there's no use trying to put us back together. We're too badly broken."

Martha stopped eating and just looked at me. The old lady was a lot smarter than I gave her credit for.

"You wanted a divorce which means that either you fell in love with someone you love more than Rebecca. I don't see that as being possible," she said staring at me. "Or, oh my God, she cheated on you." She looked at the reaction on my face as she said it, and hers fell too.

"How stupid can she be?" she asked. "I can't imagine a daughter of mine sneaking around in sleazy hotel rooms with another man while her husband is at home. No wonder she sits at home crying all day long."

"Uhm, it's far worse than you think, Martha," I said. "You really need to sit down and talk to Becky about this. After you've spoken to her, I'll tell you the truth about it, but to be fair to her we really should give her the chance to come clean with you."

We spent the rest of the time, just eating and making small talk. Before leaving she told me that one way or another she and Jonathon wanted me to stay in their lives. I could tell that our talk weighed very heavily on her and I felt bad about it. I loved her and Jonathon. I'd probably miss them at least as much as I'd miss Becky.

After Martha left, Shelly came back by the table. "If you and your mother in law were planning some kind of party for Becky, I hope you'll keep us in mind," she said. "We do great parties."

"The only party I'm planning with Becky will probably be our divorce," I said sadly.

Shelly looked around the room, and then leaned over and hugged me. In the three weeks since I'd been estranged from Becky I don't think I'd had one erection. but as Shelly ground her breasts against me I was full blown in a heartbeat.

"If you need anyone to talk to you can always call me," she said. I asked for the check and gave her a substantial tip. As I was leaving she caught me at the door and brought the receipt over. "Remember what I said," she whispered to me. As I looked at the receipt I noticed that she'd written her phone number on it. I doubted that I'd ever call her but it was nice to know that maybe life after Becky wouldn't be as desolate and lonely as I'd anticipated.

The next day I got a call from my lawyer. He wanted to know how the counseling had gone, and if there was anything he should know. I filled him in on everything including my refusal to do the homework. He laughed and told me that as long as I went, I should be okay.

When Friday rolled around, Becky showed up for our counseling session dressed up. She had on a white jacket and skirt set that she knew I loved to see her in. She had done her makeup and hair, and looked great. Becky had always been a pretty woman and today was no different. I smiled at the receptionist and told her how great she looked, and how pretty she was. Becky wasn't pleased.

"That slut is way too young for you," she snapped.

"I guess you're the expert on sluts, huh?" I said back. "You're all dressed up, are you going out on a date? I thought you just invited them back to my house and fucked them in groups. Why would you even need to put on clothes?" That started Becky crying before she even got into the room. I couldn't resist twisting the knife, so I kept going. "Hey Becky, do your parents let you have your orgies in their house, or do you wait for them to leave like you did with me?"

Dr. Martin shook his head and handed Becky the entire box of tissues. "I had a chance to review some of your answers to the questions I asked you last session," he said.

"Mr. Jennings, up until your discovery of your wife's behavior, you loved her deeply. Is it possible that you still love your wife, but find yourself unable to separate the woman you love from her behavior? Perhaps what we need to do is treat your wife alone for a while and try to discover what was at the root of her behavior, since she obviously loves you. Would you be willing to agree to that?"

"You mean I wouldn't have to come here anymore and you'd just root around in Becky's head. You'd try to figure out what made her into a slut and why she stoped loving me?" I asked.

"Basically yes," he said.

"Hell yes," I snapped.

"Fine, then I'll tell the court that you've agreed to put the divorce on hold until we discover the reasons for the breakup in your marriage," he said.

"Wait a minute," I said. "I never agreed to that. If you want to shrink Becky's head that's fine. I'm sure her next husband or her pimp, whatever the case may be, will appreciate it. But my goal here is to get this divorce moving as quickly as possible."

Becky appeared hurt. "Scotty," she cried. "I never, ever stopped loving you. That won't ever happen. There won't be another husband, ever. You're stuck with me!" she was screaming and crying. Dr. Martin merely continued to add notes to his pad.

"It's obvious that whatever came between the two of you is still very painful, and we're not going to make any progress until we address it," said Dr. Martin. "Mr. Jennings why don't you tell me what happened at least the way you saw it.

"Okay, not that it matters anymore but here's what happened," I began. "I've always loved Becky. Since the very first time I saw her I was smitten. When we first got together and all the way until the day I caught her cheating on me, I was the happiest man I know. Nothing affected me, because I knew that at the end of the day I'd go home to the most beautiful woman in the world and she was all mine. There was no way I'd ever even think about cheating on her, I just loved her too much."

I looked at Dr. Martin as I said this. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Becky tearing up. "I'm a salesman Doc, and a good one. I work a lot of hours because I don't want Becky to want for anything. I wanted her to drive the car she wants, and wear the clothes she likes. I want us to live in the neighborhood she likes, in a house that she can be proud of. As I said before I hate my job but I'm good at it and I do the very best I can, for Becky. My job means that I often have to travel for business. But you can call my boss if you'd like. I'm actually on the road far less than the other salesmen. Mostly because I don't want to be away from Becky unless I have to."

"She and I had a talk very early in our relationship, and we established our ground rules. She made me promise that I would never cheat on her, for any reason or our marriage was over. It was that simple she would not put up with any cheating. I feel like a fool now because, I guess those rules didn't apply to her."

"She told me that even if we were arguing, or had been apart for a long time, it wasn't a reason to cheat. She was very emphatic about it. She even told me that she could forgive anything except that."

"Over the past few months Becky had been complaining more and more about my road trips. Doc I only go on the road once or twice a month, and I'm never gone for more than 3 days, but she wouldn't let it go. I've been busting my ass, and I'm in line for a sales manager position that would keep me off the road, but I guess that didn't matter."

"I told Becky that I had to go out of town again and that I'd take her out on the weekend when I got back. She didn't say anything about it. She wasn't happy or sad, she was just kind of numb. The only thing I remember her saying was, "If you have to."