There is no sex in this first part but in the future part coming in a few days.
By Rachel Wrenn
© 2021 MaxxandRachelWrenn
The house was dark except for the glow from stove light from the kitchen. Cara, my wife’s car was in the garage. It almost dark, early evening a little after 5:30 pm. The house should not have looked so lifeless, where was Cara?
I parked in the garage and slowly exited the car I wondered what was going on.
I opened the kitchen door stepped inside and sat my briefcase on the breakfast table. I walked through the kitchen into the dining room. As I walked in I saw Cara sitting at the other end of the big table. Infront of her was a full wine glass, with a half-full wine bottle nearby. This morning, that bottle was unopened and was waiting for us to open it together tonight to launch our weekend.
Other than the wine bottle, there were several papers laying on the table, in front of her. I couldn’t see what they were, from where I was.
‘Here we go,’ I thought, turning on the voice recorder app on my ever-present phone, thankful that we lived in a one-party-consent state.
“How long have you known?” Cara asked, not look up at me.
“Long enough,” I said not exactly knowing what she was talking about but having a really good idea. Her question shocked me so I just went with it, hoping things would become clear as she talked.
I should stop to explain. When I came home, I had not anticipated this conversation. But I deal in clichés every day, so it was very easy to see where this was going. I’m a freelance writer. I do travel articles, humor, opinion, and advertising copy, but I’ll write almost anything, if the pay is right. I also ghostwrite books, bio’s and do quite a bit of editing for several freelance publishers. I stay pretty busy meeting deadlines and doing rewrites to satisfy the client. It can be stressful, but the money and freedom make it worth it.
On the side though, just for fun, I write erotic fiction posted on two leading websites. I’ve written several hundred stories under different pen names keeping my branding clear from my other work. I have read many, many, more stories than I have written. So, I am up on all the tropes. I’ve written dozens myself, often involving a cheating spouse with a surprise revelation.
The thing about clichés though is that they are very often true. People are all the same, I suppose. It comes down to DNA to separating us apart.
But like I said, when a guy gets home to find his wife of over 22 years, sitting alone in a blacked out house, illuminated only by the faint light of the kitchen stove, and halfway into a bottle of wine, there are only a few ways that the conversation is going to go.
For instance, she was not going to tell me that we had won the Powerball lottery. Sure, the heat pump might have exploded, or the basement might have flooded both had happened a few years ago, or she could have had a car accident, but I had seen her car on my way in and it was fine, but none of these events would ever cause, somber drinking.
No, I had the feeling deep in my gut, this was serious. I knew with great certainty within two seconds of having seen the murky tableau of the scene, this was possibly even a marriage, ending scenario, come to life.
I knew Cara had no medical appointments lined up either, so I ruled out a health problem. An accident involving a relative would have led to a phone call. This was something else, and that something else had to be infidelity. Q.E.D.
It was very disappointing and shocking, to say the least. I stood looking at her not moving since she first spoke.
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“I never meant to hurt you,” Cara whispered looking down.
I was fishing now not knowing what she was referring to exactly but I had an idea and I would not happy if I was right!
“Of course not my dear, you never meant to do anything but enjoy yourself at my expense! Not thinking at all about the truth. You never considered how whatever you have done would affect me, us or our family! Your selfish little self just wanted to have a little fun with no consideration of how it would affect us if you got caught. My God, dear, you had to know you would get caught, everybody does at some point!” I stated firmly as I moved over and sat at opposite end of the table.
I looked to the other end of the table, “You know from church that forgiveness is not possible without a full confession!” Using Cara’s Catholicism, she had admittedly been lax in and now it was so much more obvious. So, I thought it was a strong weapon.
I sat with my arms outstretched with my palms face down, in front of me on the table. Far more rudely than I normally would explain, “Cara, if I am going to have to fight you for the truth, you can just fuck off, pack all you shit and get out! Cara you’ve been fucking us all over enough as it is!”
Cara flinched, and her shoulders sagged.
“I’ve only slept with him twice.” Cara said softly, recoiling, waiting for my next blast.
“So, fucking him ONLY twice, what makes this less bad than if you had fucked him, say 25 times! That is a novel idea… but NO dear, fucking him just ONE TIME was far too many times!” I stated clear.
Cara cringed again, never raising her head, refusing to look at me
So I barked loudly… “Who? Damnit, WHO… Say his FUCKING name, God Dammit! Full confession, remember or your fucking… out of here!”
“I only slept with Jack twice, when we travelled for work, a couple of months ago.” Cara said sadly looking up but not looking at me.
I could still see her sad, tear filled, eyes. It made me sad. I could feel the bile bubbling up in my throat as I felt sick to my stomach!
Her admission narrowed her potential cheating partners down. We knew a lot of Jacks. She worked with several as well. They were all married, so I took a chance.
“I talked to his wife.” I stated.
“What… you talked to Miriam?” Cara eyes bored into me as fear spread over her face and her breathing stopped.
Bingo. I now knew which Jack.
“No… I lied… but ‘full honesty’, on your part, does prevail again!”
Cara looked at me then, her face was a picture of confusion.
“What, you didn’t talk to her?” She gasped
“Yes… I lied… So, Do You Like, It… That sinking feeling you get when you feel completely betrayed? Do You… Like it… Do You Like How It Feels? Just so you know if you even care… I fucking hate it!” I shouted as I stood and leaned on the table.
“I don’t understand.” Cara’s face showed her confusion.
“It’s simple dear. Until this moment, I had no clue you had really cheated on me and our family. But now I do as well as who it was that you fucked, how many times you fucked him and when. So, ‘full honesty’ prevails once again. Now I am going to tell the asshole’s wife and divorce your cheating ass!” I yelled even louder.
“But this…” pointing to the papers on the table, and starting to cry.
I saw them now. She must have found them on my desk. They explained how to file for divorce in our state. They were background for a slut wife story i was writing about annulling a fraudulent marriage. My previous stuff had focused on revenge on the asshole, not the divorce technicalities.
When she saw the papers, my wife’s guilt, made her jump to the conclusion that I knew she was cheating. Her guilt was eating her up and her fear and angst really pushed her to jump way ahead a few inferential steps.
“Oh those?” I stood up and headed for the door, ready to walk out forever.
“Well let’s call them a sad coincidence!
Goodbye, Cara, I guess you and Jack can fuck all you want in YOUR bed now, because I will never be sleeping in it again!”
Her head dropped on her arms on the table, and she began sobbing loudly.
I walked out and closed the door. This was not what I had expected when I came home tonight the complete opposite. Know what do, I do!
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I sat in my car thinking. Boy a really great day had turned into pure crap. Now what.
As I thought about what had happened, I was sad and angry.
I had come home happy, excited to tell Cara the great news. I had received a very large, six figure commission to ghost write a biography for a major politician that had just left office and had a long controversial career in politics. It was a huge deal. The biggest I had ever received.
Now that was all just, dust by comparison. I really had no feelings about the project, one way or another. I was worried about my marriage, my stable life, but my family most of all!
I was very confused and sad. Suddenly in less than a half an hour the whole last 22 years of my life came crashing down on me. Our beautiful family of six was no more. Thank God, our children are old enough to process this as adults and make their own conclusions.
As for me, at this moment, I could see no other recourse available to me, but DIVORCE!!
Boy, that is an ugly word, I never thought would cross my lips in real life.
I have written mamy stories on the subject of cheating with may different ending. Each is unique and some end OK, but most do not.
I thought this was going to end badly for everyone.
As I thought and my rational mind returned and I knew I needed to do the right thing here. As angry as I was, I could not let the anger control me. My imagination can go wild on this subject, as it does in my stories. But since they are all imaginary characters it really doesn’t matter what happens as long as the reader is satisfied, and I feed a hunger that they may have.
But this was completely different. This was REAL LIFE… MY LIFE, not some schmuck that deserved what happened, or a wife, married to a whimp or a guy that wanted to be cuckold.
NO this was me, a good man, a great provider, a loving husband that worships his wife and loves her to the death. A great father that loves our four children so much. God… I knew this would just kill them!
I looked at my watch, it was almost 8:00 pm. I had been in my car now for an hour plus. What was I going to do now?
More to come.
Comments invited…