A Long Hard Road Out of Hell

I reached over and unplugged the phone from the wall jack, then went back into the bedroom and unplugged that one too. The LAST person I wanted to talk to at that time was Emily.

Once that was out of the way, I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Wonder of wonders, at least the asshole didn't drink my beer! I still had almost a full case in there from when I'd last taken Leave a month before taking the bullet. I pulled out a Beck's Dark and drained it in several glugs. Then I pulled out another one and drank it more slowly as I collapsed back onto my couch.

My brain was going through all the emotional turmoil that comes from this kind of betrayal. Emily wasn't the first to dump me or cheat on me, but her betrayal had hurt the most. The previous cheater was the girl I was supposed to take to Prom before I took Lena instead. Breakups I could deal with, and after Bridget (I'll just use the same name here for her as I did before) cheated on and dumped me, at least Lena and I had been there to pick each other up, and we had fallen In Love.

Things don't work out quite like they do in fiction, though. She ended up engaged to some guy when we had ETS'd the first time, and even though it hadn't lasted, by the time they had broken up, I was with Emily by that point. Our agreement had remained the same. We wouldn't be more than Best Friends if one or both of us was in a relationship with someone else.

I wanted nothing more than to call Lena and talk to her. I wanted nothing more than to go with her to the mall and catch a matinee movie. I NEEDED my Best Friend, but her last words to me kept hurtling through my brain. The finality of what she'd said stuck with me. I hated her in that moment. I hated Emily in that moment. I hated myself most of all, though.

The fact that I'd been stupid again and had alienated my Best Friend when I needed her most was galling to me. How could I have been so stupidly fucktarded? Instead of giving her my reasoning and asking her advice, I'd just told her what I was going to do. She'd tried to talk me out of it, but I'd stupidly said "Well, I'm going. I have to do this."

At least Emily had said she understood, of course. But then, who's to say she wasn't already fucking Jim behind my back? Right then, I started second-guessing our entire relationship. I started second-guessing myself, and I started second-guessing EVERYTHING in my life.

"What did I do that was wrong?" I asked myself over and over. Yes, 6 beers later, and I was a fuckin' wreck. Nearly 2 full combat tours in Afghanistan plus the 1 in Iraq, never cracking under pressure, and I come back home to find my fiancé in my bed with another man, a man who was supposed to be my friend, and THEN I crack?! FUCK!

The next 48 hours were a blur. I woke up. I ate. I shit. I pissed. I drank more beer. I went back to sleep. I had full blown Depression, and didn't know the first thing to do about it.

What got me out of my stupor was the pounding on my door at 1000 hrs. 2 days after I'd gotten home. I couldn't go back to the bedroom to sleep, and the spare bedroom was being used as storage, so I had crashed on my couch instead. I awoke to light streaming in the windows and the pounding on the door getting louder. I was hungover and out of beer. Bad combination. I was angry as fuck when I looked through the peephole to see my mom and dad standing there.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! I had completely forgotten to call them when I got back! I'd been planning to, up until I found Emily and Jim and had forgotten all about it. I opened the door and saw that Dad had a grim look on his face, and Mom was openly crying. I hugged them both, then backed off as they realized how much I stunk. Yeah, I hadn't showered since Outprocessing, either.

"Ok, Mitchell, get a shower!" my dad ordered me. I nodded and shuffled back to the bathroom to take care of my hygiene, and the hot shower actually made me feel a bit better.

When I had toweled dry and put on some fresh civvies, I was at least presentable, even though I had 2 days' stubble on my face.

As soon as I came out, Dad started in first.

"Why didn't you call us when you got in?" he asked with an irritated tone.

"Good to see you too, Dad. Probably because my world came crashing down around me when I caught the whore in bed with the asshole," I snarled back, not in the mood to be lectured. I'd had enough lectures in College, thanks a fuckin' lot.

Now it was Mom's turn to annoy me. "Don't call Emily a whore, Mitchell!" she admonished me.

"You're right, Mom. Since Jim probably wasn't paying her, that would make her a slut," I reasoned.

"Mitchell Nolan!" she shouted, but Dad interrupted her.

"Mitch, are you sure that they were doing what you thought they were doing?" he asked.

"Yes, Dad. I watched for a moment in shock before I kicked Jim right in the scrote and then dragged both of them out of here naked. Who told you I was back, by the way?" I thought I already knew the answer, but was just waiting for confirmation.

"Emily came by and said that you kicked her out. She didn't say why, only that it was a misunderstanding," Mom said. "Oh, God, I was afraid that something like this would happen." She was shaking her head.

"There was NO misunderstanding what I saw, and what do you mean by that, Mom?" I asked, suddenly getting a sinking feeling in my gut. I saw from the look that Dad had on his face that this was news to him too.

Mom realized what she'd just said, and paled noticeably as she sighed with resignation. "I guess I should tell you, but I saw them together at the mall a little over a year ago. I confronted Emily later that day, and she admitted that Jim was... satisfying her while you were away. I... I didn't know what to do. She begged me to keep it a secret, and promised that when you got out, she would stop with Jim."

I saw a tear in Mom's eye as she finished telling me this, but right then, I had no sympathy for her.

"So you knew, and didn't bother to give me a heads-up about it? Thanks, Mom. Thanks a helluva fuckin' lot!" I shouted at her.

"Mitch, don't talk to your mother that way," Dad said.

"Both of you need to leave now. Please. I'm not in the mood right now to listen to anymore of this bullshit," I said softly. Now, most people that know me know that I'm not extremely pissed off until I start talking in a barely audible whisper. When I'm shouting, that's only moderately angry. When I drop my voice, that's when I'm ready to commit homicide.

"Ok, we'll leave. I'm sorry, son," my father said as he guided my sobbing mother to the door. They closed it behind them, and I threw the deadbolt again.

As soon as I'd done that, I went back into the living room and screamed out in emotional pain. My own mother had known about it! She'd done NOTHING to stop it or even tell me that something was going on! How the hell could MY OWN MOTHER not tell me this shit?! How the hell could she side with that cheating slut over her own son?!

Up until that moment, I had loved my mother as any son should. She'd cared for me when I was sick as a kid. She'd patched up my skinned knees and other times when I'd gotten into fights or skateboarding or surfing or doing stuff with my friends and got injured. Up until that moment, I would have died for my family, and my mother in particular. Up until that moment, my mother had walked on water, and nobody could have told me otherwise.

But then, I'd thought the same of Emily. In a different way, of course, but still the same level of love in my heart. Now my heart was breaking twice over. "Where will the betrayal end?" I asked to an empty apartment.

I had to get out of there. I couldn't keep moping and feeling sorry for myself forever. I turned on my cellphone to about a hundred voicemails and texts from Emily. I listened to one of the voicemails, and she was sobbing and begging me to talk to her. I deleted the rest of the voicemails, and deleted the texts unread.

I turned my phone back off, then went out to my baby. My '79 Z-28 had been neglected by yours truly for too damn long. I got in, buckled up, and took my baby for a spin.

As I said in "Coolness Under Fire", I had restored that Camaro when I was in High School, and had kept up maintenance on it ever since. One clutch later, and it was still going strong. Engine was perfect, as I did maintenance on it every six months, and of course oil changes every three months. While I'd been gone, Emily had taken it to get checked twice, and had kept gas in it. I told her to add some Octane Booster to it and drive it every couple months. At least she'd done that. I'd have to thank her for that eventually... maybe.

During my time in, I'd let my CompTIA certifications slip, so had to get recertified in A+, Network+, Server+, and Security+. Yeah, I didn't have much time over there to keep them up to date. I got lucky and was able to audit some classes at a local Computer tech school in Phoenix, and after 5 months had my Certifications again.

Once I had my Certs up to date again, I was able to find work with a computer repair shop and started trying to put my life back together.

During that time, the calls and texts from Emily finally stopped, and I breathed a sigh of relief when a week had gone by without so much as a peep from my ex.

Mom called me a few times to see how I was doing too, and I was able to stay civil with her... barely. Yeah, my ex-slut-fiancé was history, but Mom, as much as I didn't like her right then, was still Family. My shitwad little brother at least stayed the fuck out of the whole mess. Dad, on the other hand, kept wanting me to patch things up with Mom, and wanted ME to apologize to HER. I told him, as diplomatically as I could, that it would be a cold day in Hell before I apologized to her, and she would need to apologize to me before I even talked to her for more than a few minutes at a stretch.

Yeah, she STILL hadn't apologized to me for keeping Emily's affair with Jim a secret. Hell, every time she tried to "explain" the situation, I hung up on her. Fuck it. I don't need explanations. No explanation would make it ok in my book. As far as I was concerned, it would just be an excuse.

Excuses are like assholes. Everyone has them, and they all fuckin' stink.

Finally it all came to a head when I went to my folks' house for Thanksgiving that year, and Emily and her mom were there too. I should've fuckin' known. I saw them, turned to leave, and was intercepted by Dad.

"Son, you need to listen to Emily, at least. Just to give you a sense of closure. To find out why she did it," Mom said as Dad was blocking my exit.

A fuckin' ambush. SOP calls for the ambushed to assault through the ambush with violence of action. That, unfortunately, doesn't work in the civilian sector. So I did the civilian equivalent of assaulting through the ambush.

"No, Mom. I don't need to listen to excuses. That's all she has. She was lonely. She was sexually frustrated. Jim was there for her. She had an affair with a MARRIED MAN!" I shouted at them all, glaring at Emily the whole time.

"And you didn't need to go and tell Sherri about it! You ruined their marriage!" Mom shouted right back.

I laughed harshly at that. "No, mom. Jim ruined Jim's marriage. Jim and Emily. Not me. Don't even try to make this my fault! While I was over there fighting for our country, I was being cuckolded by a man who said he was my friend! Is that how friends are supposed to be? If I ever see him again, he'd better run. I won't be so nice to him as the last time I saw him!"

Mom, strangely enough, had no comeback for that one. I think it was the venom in my tone that shut her up. Emily and her mom were both looking down as if ashamed.

I looked at Emily and addressed her. I had an idea. "Emily, do you really want to be with me again? Faithfully this time?"

Oh, did I fail to mention that Sherri kicked Jim out and Divorced him? She moved into an apartment two buildings down from mine, and we'd become friends with benefits. Anyhow, I had an idea of how to deal with Emily.

Emily's face brightened, and she looked at me with hope in her eyes. "Yes, Mitch! Yes, I want to be with you again. I swear that I will never cheat on you again! Please! Give me one more chance!"

I nodded. "Ok, then this is how it's going to be. If you accept this, we'll try it. Go into the Army. Get posted overseas. While you're over there, I will have a year long affair with Sherri. While professing to love you, I will be having sex with Sherri whenever we get a free moment."

As I talked, Emily paled more and more as I gave her my ultimatum. Finally, she started sobbing uncontrollably.

"I'll take that as a no," I said sarcastically with a shrug. Then I softened my tone a bit. "Do you see now, Emily? Would you be able to take me back if I did that?"

Emily shook her head no. "No, I couldn't." She ran out of the room after saying that, sobbing with her mom right behind her.

I looked at Mom. "Mom, if Dad was doing that to you, would you want to know or not?"

Mom was sobbing now too as she realized that the tables were turned. I wasn't going to let anyone make me the fuckin' bad guy. She finally said it. "I'm so sorry, honey. I thought they would stop, but they didn't. I'm so, so sorry I didn't tell you. I thought if I did, you would get hurt over there."

That hadn't occurred to me. I should have thought of that, dammit! I'd seen soldiers in my unit get Dear John letters from wives or girlfriends and lose their edge after reading them. Some seemed to lose the will to live, and others were so distracted out on patrol that they would step on a landmine or get caught flatfooted in an ambush.

I sat down heavily on the couch as I shook all over and dropped my face into my hands. Mom had done it to protect me. Hell, it was my fault for not telling anyone that I'd been wounded and was coming home, too. Once again, I didn't want them to worry about me. Like I said, I was fuckin' stupid back then.

Like a friend of mine says, everything happens for a reason. God works in mysterious ways. However you want to put it.

As soon as I had ahold of myself, I hugged Mom, hugged Dad, hugged my shithead brother Mel, and left before Emily and her mom returned from wherever Emily had gone to cry. I told Mom that I understood, but I just couldn't be there anymore.

Once I was back at my place, I called Sherri and she came over. We spent a quiet Thanksgiving together with some takeout from Fry's Marketplace.

"I take it things didn't go well?" she asked after we'd finished eating.

"It actually went better than I thought it would," I sighed. "At least now I understand why my mom didn't tell me about the affair. It made sense, too. While I was over there, I saw guys get killed because their wives or girlfriends dumped them."

Sherri nodded. "Ok, I can see that. But she should have at least told me before I married the shithead!"

I couldn't blame Sherri for her anger. Until a few hours before, I had the same anger towards my mom.

"I hear you, and wait... Jim was screwing Emily since BEFORE you got married?!" I asked, astonished. That would put their affair at over 2 years, not the one year that Mom had thought it was, and Emily had told her it was.

Sherri nodded. "Jim admitted to it in marriage counseling. Ugh, I just wanted him gone, but the fucking Judge ordered it," she said as she rolled her eyes.

"Well, I'm just thankful that I didn't marry her, no offense to those who do get married," I gave her a half smile and a shrug. "No messy Divorce to deal with."

Sherri just shook her head and smirked back at me. "None taken, hon. Well, what do you want to do now that we're out of food?"

The look on her face told me exactly what she wanted to do.

"I wouldn't mind fucking your brains out, if that's what you're asking," I said with a grin.

"Good, because I need to get my brains fucked out tonight," she confirmed.

That was a hell of a night! We were at it from about 1830 hrs. until midnight, before exhaustion finally caught up to us.

There was no love with Sherri, though. We were just relieving each other's needs while getting a sort of "revenge" on our exes. She admitted that Jim had never made her come, and she was as mystified as I was why the fuck Emily would take up with him, and continue even after realizing that he wasn't that great in bed. Sherri had married him because she loved him, and had never cheated on him. But then, Sherri had been a virgin on her wedding night. Definitely old fashioned, but hey. To each their own. She had no plans on getting married again anytime soon, and I had no plans to get into a real relationship anytime soon either. Fuck Buddies worked for both of us.

I missed Lena, though. Every time I picked up my phone and wanted to call her, I would curse myself and put it back down. Her last words to me kept going through my head, and I'd been a total asshole and just hung up on her back then.

Life, such as it was, went on. I worked. I ate. I drank... a LOT. I slept. I shit. I pissed. Yep, I was surviving. The hurt and anger cooled after a while, of course. Hell, it was the longest I'd ever held a grudge.

No, I didn't get back with Emily. I do have SOME self-respect, thanks in part to Sherri. I'm proud of myself in that even at my lowest point, I never gave in to Emily begging me to let her back into my life. That wasn't going to happen.

I remembered some good advice I'd received about dealing with cheaters. "Get out. Get out and don't look back."

I remembered the good times with Emily, of course. But like I said earlier, the warning signs had been there. She was possessive. She wanted to control me. She couldn't stay faithful to me, judging by recent evidence. She's a selfish woman who thinks with the gash between her thighs. Fuck it.

So I didn't love her anymore, but I didn't hate her anymore, either. Just indifference.

Then Sherri got a much better job offer in Albuquerque, New Mexico. So after helping her move over a long weekend, we had one last romp before going our separate ways. It was fun, energetic, and damned if Sherri wasn't awesome in bed! She'd come a long way since our first time together after her Divorce was final.

But when I got back to Tempe after a day of driving the morning after our last time, I found myself in the same rut I'd been in before. Except this time, Sherri was gone, and most of the women I asked out were looking for more than a FWB relationship, which I wasn't ready for.

I'll be honest and say straight out that I didn't trust women for anything. Hell, even with knowing and understanding why Mom had kept Emily's affair a secret, it would be a long time before I would really trust her again, if ever.

A few years passed. Life went on.

Well, survival went on.

I fell into a rut of Work-Eat-Sleep for months. Get up, eat, go to work, eat lunch, come home, eat dinner. I supported the entire fuckin' staff at Carl's Jr. and Burger King. Yes, I CAN cook. I didn't have the motivation for anything like cooking my own meals, though.

I still worked out, though. Every morning early before work, I'd go for a run. I'd do 100 pushups, sit ups, and run for a couple of miles.

Until one morning I didn't. I'd lost my motivation. Hell, I fell back into depression from that disease, lack-a-nookie. In layman's terms, I severely needed to get laid.

No, I didn't get a hooker or escort, even if I was tempted. Nah, it ended up being just me, internet porn, and Rosie Palmer with her 5 sisters.

I also started smoking cigarettes. Yeah, I know. Smoking sucks. I knew it before, but my self-respect was so fuckin' low at that time, I didn't really give a shit anymore.

One Saturday, I was thinking about Lena back home. Yes, I still thought of Santa Barbara as Back Home. It was where I'd grown up my first 5 years before our fathers went back into the Army, and where I'd gone to High School after they got out again. Where WE had gone to High School. Lena and me. It was where most of my fond memories were rooted, too.