Cheaters Never Win Ch. 02

Conclusion

Well, I left you hanging at the end of the first chapter so here we go continuing this fictional tale of woe and marital discord for our friend, the famous E. R. doctor, Dr. Jon Williamson.

I stared at the report through my tired eyes. Three thirty AM is not the time to get anything new started.

As expected, my blood type was O+.

I knew my son's blood type was A+.

My wife's blood type was (my eyes blurred as I read) O+. Hers was identical to mine. My son was not and could not be my biologic offspring. Sherrie had duped me low these 15 years. Someone else had been the sperm donor. I didn't know for sure who it was, but I knew who it wasn't. I had a an inkling of an idea as to whom it might be.

This person suddenly was my mortal enemy, as was my cheating wife. Some how I felt relieved. Now I had the sad goods on her. Now I needed no expensive DNA testing. Old cheap and easy technology won out over the newer expensive kind. There could be no argument or effective denial on her part. The remaining questions were now becoming clear. Who? Why? And what was I going to do about it? Only the third question was of any importance to me. The "What was I going to do question" had to be answered.

The phone rang and I was needed back in the E.R. treatment area. Patients are waiting! I wondered if they wanted treatment by an emotionally impaired physician as I felt myself to be. I wondered if I wanted to make any difficult clinical decisions so soon after such a shock. There was no alternative at this time of day. I had to do what I had to do and do it to the best of my professional training. The rest of the shift was actually clinically easy and quiet. I'm still amazed at how many moms bring their kids to the E.R. at 4 am with a runny nose of three days duration.

As I left the E.R. at 6 am at the end of my 6 to 6 shift, I suited up in my "civis", told the new 7 to 3 nursing shift hello then walked the one block off campus and got an Egg McMuffin and large coffee. watched the am news of shootings and drunken fights on channel 42. As 8 o'clock approached, I found my self driving to the Investigators office. Ushered in again, I requested that more information be acquired concerning my wife, her daughter Sammie and this Mr. Sherbert. I was conjuring up nothing less than a tsunami for Mr. Sherbert and justice for my wife and me.

Upon leaving, I confirmed my appointment with the divorce lawyer for the day after my third night in the ER. I planned to take action even before all the information was gathered together. My anger seemed to overcome caution and good sense. Things I thought about later.

Sleep came easier than I expected. The next two days became just a blur in my memory. All I remember now is the growing feeling of the finality, the death, of my once sacred loving marriage. Acceptance of this fact gradually overtook the anger I had felt which had developed after the shock and disbelief. I recognized that I was progressing through the stages of grief to the finality of the fact: the death of my marriage but the burial was yet to come.

However, there was unfinished business that needed to be attended to. . I had to make "Final arrangements" for my marriage. This included retribution to the offending parties and reconciliation among those injured innocents. As the short time progressed, I was doing better and feeling increasingly empowered.

On the fifth day, I was sitting in my attorney's office with the confrontation with my wife yet to come. I spilled my guts to her and included every bit of evidence I had. It took all of thirty minutes before I was relieved of keeping secrets with everyone about my situation. I felt like I had had a very satisfying mental and emotional bowel evacuation.

"Dr. Williamson, what do you want to be the outcome?" She looked at me as if I was her son. She was certainly old enough to be my mother.

"First I want that this never happened. Obviously, we have no time capsule so that cannot happen. Next, I want to review my legal options. Then I want you to help me through the legal steps. Frankly, I cannot see living with my wife and I cannot envision the details of a future with or without out her. I am still overwhelmed emotionally but slowly becoming aware that there needs to be a rapid final solution. I want out! I want it to be total and quick and clean with as many of rights as possible. I want full custody of my son then I want my life to be as undisturbed legally as possible. I want a rapid, clean, final solution".

"Counselor", my mind wandered temporarily as I thought of the unspeakable. "I tremble with horror as I remember the Nazi's use of those words "final solution". In my memory, pictures of the starved and partially cremated bodies flashed in my mind. Those words meant the extinction of millions in Nazi ruled Europe in the early 1940's. Surely, I do not mean that kind of "final solution". Yet hate has not totally exited my thinking. So yes, I want a final solution visited upon the monsters, both of them. I have never struck a woman. I have mixed feelings about the thought of hurting the one to whom I am still married. This thought is very alien to me even though she has destroyed my life and seriously hurt my family. She and her ex have cuckolded me. My desire to rain down fire and brimstone, Sodom and Gomorrah style, is still quite inviting to my conflicted mine. Perhaps she will also turn into a pillar of salt."

My mind came back to the present.

"I am ready to flee this relationship and see the culprits burn in hell. Like the ancients, I want to be far enough away so that the just rain of fire and brimstone destroy only the guilty. I want as little "collateral damage" especially to my children, as possible. That's why I'm here."

"Well Jon, I see you have read secular and Biblical history. Now let me show you the legalities and options awaiting you."

Her tone was both professional yet friendly. (I had not yet learned that she and my mother had been classmates in college and roommates for their freshman and sophomore years, and that they had remained friends.)

"First, if you do violence and get caught...as is likely, you go to prison and lose out really big time. Just give up on raining down fire on them or washing them away with a tsunami of your own making. In addition, you end up denying your own faith in God to make things right eventually. You will destroy yourself with first hate, then violence then regret and you will have many terrible beyond current comprehension, awful, isolated days in prison to regret your bad decisions. Just forget about that option."

She looked straight into my eyes as she then questioned. "Who will your son have as a father then? He will have an angry convicted felon wasting his life in prison as a father. Is that what you really want for him?" (That put an end to my thoughts for violent retribution for my son's welfare was paramount).

"Second," she continued in a rather benign tone of voice, "This is a no fault state. Divorce is relatively easy. You will end up splitting assets equally plus and you end up paying alimony and child support. Her ex, still has parental rights and may be a formidable adversary causing you unknown grief. Your son will be forced to live with your Ex, his mother. In addition, if you go to prison you lose most of your half of the estate. It might be in your best interest not to divorce her at all.

"Third, the judges in our community are high on marital counseling and generally require some before granting even an uncontested divorce. Claiming adultery, even if admitted or proved, complicates everything legally and family relation wise. We can consider later.

"Fourth, you could move to Nevada for six months then divorce her. That is a viable option but I would lose you as a client." She grinned a little and paused. With a smile she continued "and much of my fees for all this".

She continued after a brief pause. "If you do this, you should engage a divorce lawyer in Nevada before changing domiciles and you should let me know so I can do all that I can to protect you here both before and after you leave. That is if you choose that option. You might learn that that option is not so attractive once you get the details on Nevada law. I am not going to counsel you about Nevada law but I see this as the wimp husbands solution: just run away. That is not in your son's best interest for sure. It would be legally difficult, financially disastrous and giving your son a very weak and pathetic father figure for a dad.

"Fifth, you can just disappear with your assets to live overseas somewhere. This is another wimp solution. Do not plan to return to the USA if you do that, as she will likely have an arrest warrant out on you. You likely will not be able to take your son either. Generally, a country will not extradite you if you have not committed a crime here and selling out and leaving is not a crime. Disappearing with your minor son is a crime. If you leave this country, you leave him behind but with her. I think you do not want that. In addition, getting work in another country is sometimes very hard and at other times quite easy. The UK has need of general practitioners, I hear".

Of course you can forge ahead, bullheaded and blind folded, in effect without counseling. True, you can do it on your own but the price, knowing your personality, might get very difficult emotionally for you. Get the divorce process started. Then a period of separation. Hours of grief trying to sort out your to be split finances. fighting for custody, arraigning for child care, trying to stay calm mid the many emotional battles. You can do it without personal or marital counseling but you will be picking to sail out of the safe harbor into a hurricane. And, unprepared, I might add.

"Lastly, you can reconcile. Impossible situations, like yours, frequently are not impossible with counseling and time. I suggest this route. If that fails, I will try to help you with your other options but I insist you try counseling first. I have contacts with several very professional and successful counselors."

With that she stood, effectively ending the interview.

"Thank you" I smiled meekly. "Please write those options out for me as I obviously have not taken notes.(I had already memorized them as she went along. I'm good at doing that but I wanted back up memory also.) I must now confront my wife and my future, most likely not including her." I added the last to indicate my lack of faith in counseling. (but I had to try, if only for my son's sake.)

I turned with both firmness of intent yet trembling of hands to head home.

First on my agenda was some sleep which I badly needed. This was the third day after three night shifts and sleep came easily, helped on my Lunesta sample. I set my alarm for 5:30pm. This would get me (as usual) up for supper with my wife and son. The next thing I remember was the alarm clock telling me to get up.

I did my morning routine at 5 pm after 7 hours of needed sleep. Sherrie knew my routine and had supper ready at 6:30. As usual for teenagers, my son was in a hurry and left shortly before supper was actually over. He raced out to attend some type school function planning. He was always in a hurry. Typical teenager, I guess. Supper chat was light and benign. I helped Sherrie with the dishes keeping everything seemingly normal. Easing up behind her and putting my arms around her waist, I whispered that I needed to talk to her after we put the dishes in the dishwasher. She tensed a little then nodded her head as she hung the dishcloth up on the appointed hanger.

"Do I need some wine for this?" she inquired.

"Probably you will but I just want a cup of the left over coffee."

We sat at the now cleared table. She took her usual place at the right hand of the head of the table, which was my place. This was symbolic of our places in the family structure.

I began. "Sherrie I visited a divorce lawyer this morning".

She sat stoically.

"I know!" She stated, "Her receptionist is my cousin and she immediately called me immediately after you arrived there. Why did you go see a lawyer? What is so wrong to cause you to do that? What is there that I don't know about?" She seemed rigid and tense. She rubbed the rim of her wine goblet nervously.

"It is not what you don't know about, Sherrie. It is all about what you do know all about but, sadly, have not been telling me. I have acquired quite a lot of information over the past week about your adultery. I'm quite sure you don't know just how much I really do know."

I looked her straight in the eye and continued. "Perhaps you would like to explain what happened last week at a motel where you and your Ex were registered as man and wife and where you and he got into some sort of fight which also involved our daughter Sammie. I await your full explanation".

She stood, straightened her dress, took on an air of superiority, and said, "That was and is none of your business. He and I were settling an old problem, which has gnawed at me for years, and we finally settled it. It has been resolved and is over. The issue was settled. It no longer exists and what it was has been is of no concern of yours. You and I are man and wife now. He is only part of my past. That part of my past, I regret deeply. I have nothing more to say about it"!

Her tone was haughty perhaps even arrogant. Well, to be truthful it was really down right belligerent and commanding. There was to be no explanation from her.

"Sherrie, sit down" I commanded.

I looked directly at her yet she did not budge. On previous occasions when I had finally issued a similar stern command, she had always complied immediately.

I stood up straight, threw my shoulders back and commanded in a much louder voice "MRS WILLIAMSON! SIT DOWN!"

Again she did not move.

"This conversation is over!" she announced looking at me sternly and directly at me. Our eye contact was adversarial. Hers were narrowed and furrowed and her face rigid. I had not seen her like this ever before. We stared unblinking at each other. Each ws waiting for the other to back down.

Yet she did not move, nor did I. Stalemate ensued.

I spoke first after a moment of mutual defiance. "Sherrie, this is going to get ugly pretty quickly if you don't cooperate"!

With that, she smiled very thin lipped and her eyes narrowed even more. "And just what are you going to do about, Mister Williamson"?

I remained stood but moved closer to her. Now I was within arms length but not touching her.

I spoke in an even tone, trying to keep my anger under cover.

"Mrs. Williamson, and that name is now on the temporary list I inform you. You have destroyed our marriage. You have cuckolded me by fucking your Ex these many years and bearing his son whom I have all this time thought I was his real father. Your daughter hates you and him. What you have been doing disrespects me for not putting an end to the cheating. I always trusted you not to be doing what you have been doing. I knew nothing of your cheating." (I was not going to accuse her of causing Sammie's near two near death encounters. To do so would have revealed my initial source of her cheating."

NOW SIT DOWN OR PACK UP AND LEAVE NOW! ONE OR THE OTHER!" (I hated to have to confront her like this.)

She turned and headed for the bedroom without saying another word.

I stood not believing what was happening. She was leaving me. Her glass of wine was still half-full.

I sat down sucked her wine into my mouth intending to end my dry spell, then ran to the kitchen and spit it out. I thought to myself, no cheater is going to drive me to drink. It will take a better woman than her to do that. She isn't worth it any more. I washed my mouth out of the remaining wine taste with the now tepid coffee. (I had had a real problem with alcohol earlier in my life.)

I sat down again at the dinner table with a good view of the great room. The hall to the bedroom and the way to the front door and garage door were in easy view. She could not exit the house without my seeing her. She had closed the bedroom door so I heard nothing from the bedroom.

I waited an hour. My mixed up thoughts were interrupted by my cell phone ringing. My son wanted to stay over night with friends. It was not a school night so I agreed. I told him to come home right away and get his toothbrush. He agreed. Ten minutes later he arrived and disappeared into his bedroom and then reappeared almost immediately with an over night kit.

"Night Dad, and thanks. Where's mom?"

"She is in our bedroom. She wasn't feeling good after supper so she went to lie down. Have a fun night and no girls staying over!"

He laughed. "Who would want some dorky girl messing up three guys sleep-over? We're finishing the RC kits. (Radio Controlled gas powered model airplanes was his hobby)". He wasn't as far along in puberty as I had thought. With that, he was gone.

Sherrie had not reemerged and I had heard nothing so I went to the bedroom door and tested it. It was locked. I called out. "Sherrie, are you alright? What are you doing? You can't just up and leave us? Are you packing or just feeling sorry for yourself and pouting?"

"Go away, Jon. I want to sleep. I will tell you everything tomorrow morning, I promise. Just let me have this last night as a night of peaceful sleep. Please don't bother me again tonight." She pleaded and I knew she had won round one but tomorrow was to be the next final showdown.

"OK Sherrie." I yelled through the locked door. "Just remember you have a lot of explaining to do tomorrow. I'm going to sleep in the guest room. Tomorrow you are going to tell me all about your infidelity with your mind and your body, you know, the body you promised me was mine exclusively. Your pussy, obviously, has never been mine exclusively as you vowed to before God and family. Not only are you a cheater but you're a liar also. That I now know."

"I know. I know." She was crying even as she yelled out her reply. "Just remember that I tried to love you. You have to believe that in spite of anything you might have heard. Now please let me sleep and don't bother me again tonight." Her voice had a ring of finality to it.

There was a little airline "remain over night" bag I had acquired several years ago from now defunct Eastern Air Lines. I had everything I needed for personal hygiene before going to bed.

It was still too early for me to go to sleep so I stayed up another couple of hours. I could not get interested in TV. I was up to date on my CME. My time clock had not reset yet. I decided to take a time out and take a run, tire myself out physically, then take a shower and be prepared for the showdown to continue the next morning.

That is exactly what I did. Run until exhausted. Shower until relaxed. Sleep until the morning. I had no plan other than to force a confrontation and then decide to go for the 'mandatory' counseling. My life was over with her, that I knew. Perhaps the marital counseling along with legal advice would speed the divorce and clean up the details at the same time. I reviewed all my options. None seemed acceptable. Each lay heavier than the other on my heart.

I slept half well. Sleeping upon command was a needed skill to survive the brutal shift work in the Emergency Room.

The next morning I rolled out of bed with the sun already high in the sky. The clock said nine o'clock. Pretty late for me to be getting up. I dressed in the clothes I had from yesterday. Coffee was not on. Sherrie was not down yet. She was not due to work today, it being Saturday, but her routine was to have breakfast for us ready much earlier than nine.

I fixed a pot of coffee, two pieces of nine-grain bread toasted, artificial butter and low sucrose jelly and scrambled eggbeaters sprinkled with sharp cheddar cheese. I sat myself at the table and ate a silent breakfast. Better, get used to this I thought. That thought was distressing and bitter. The loneliness of divorce had already set in and we had not even begun to talk. Maybe our marriage could be rescued or repaired. I couldn't see how but I couldn't give up so soon either in spite of what I knew. My son deserved my best try at saving the marriage even though it seemed utterly doomed.