tagLoving WivesNice Day for a White Wedding

Nice Day for a White Wedding

byIronDragon©

Foreword:

Do NOT take this one seriously, folks. It's just another BTB satire of mine where the main character gets some fairly twisted revenge on his cheating slut wife and her Asshole lover.

FAIR WARNING: This is FANTASY. It is NOT REALITY. Just wanted to make that clear right quick for the "super-realists" out there. LOL

Oh, and as an homage to StangStar06, there IS a Mustang in this tale. One of the most awesome Mustangs ever made, in my not quite humble opinion.

Hope you all enjoy the ride! :)



I.D.


----------------------------------------------------------------------

What can I say? I was blindsided. My wife Maggie had just laid a big bombshell on me... make that two big bombshells on me.

"Mac, we need to talk." She said as I came in from work. She was still dressed in her business suit from where she worked as an accountant. I was dressed in my coveralls from where I worked, overseeing my chocolate business.

I'm Angus 'Mac' MacDougall, and my wife is Margaret Sullivan-MacDougall. Yes, she hyphenates her last name. Pretty pretentious, if you ask me. But whatever. She goes by Maggie. I'm of Scottish descent, and she's of Irish descent. Of course, that should have been my first clue that we weren't really compatible, but shit! I was in love with her golden blonde hair and green eyes and rockin' body at first sight!

We'd met ten years earlier when I'd just gotten out of the Army and we started college together. She was 18, and I was 22. I was using the G.I. Bill to get a culinary degree, and she was going for, of course, the aforementioned Accounting degree. For some odd reason, we hit it off.

It was probably that she was a chocolate connoisseur, and I wanted to make chocolate candy and cookies and basically anything chocolate, come to think of it. My Mom had a thing for chocolate, and so did a lot of women. It was a seller's market, with chocolate always in high demand.

While most businesses do most of their sales at Christmas time, chocolateers can make bank all year 'round. Christmas, of course, but also Valentine's Day, Easter, Independence Day, etc. et al. Valentine's Day is in a dead heat with Christmas for chocolate demand, and my little chocolate shop/factory does better business at Valentines than Christmas, most years.

Oh, and I HATE my first name. Angus. Seriously, mom? You HAD to go and name me fuckin' Angus?! I introduce myself as Mac to everyone. NOBODY calls me Angus, not even my wife. Ok, Mom and Dad call me Angus, but ONLY when they're pissed off at me. Every other time, I'm Mac.

So Maggie had just told me that we needed to talk. I tensed up immediately, since EVERY GUY ON EARTH knows what those four words mean when strung together in a sentence. We know it and fear it. "We need to talk" has been the forerunner of break-ups and Divorces since the dawn of time.

So it was with a sense of impending doom that I sat down at he table and looked at her. I knew my world was about to come crumbling down around me. 10 years together. 8 of those happily married. Well, I had been happily married. I had believed the same of Maggie. I flashed through the possible reasons for what she was about to say.

Sex? No way! We had sex on a regular basis, usually 4 or 5 times a week, and marathon sessions at that! I NEVER failed to get her off multiple earthshattering times. We had a great sex life!

Money? Not likely. I was pulling down 6 figures a year net, close to a quarter mill after everything was settled with overhead, payroll for my employees, taxes, etcetera. We were doing very well here. Our combined income was close to $375K a year. We were NOT hurting.

Lack of Love? Not on my part. I loved her with all my heart and soul! Had she fallen out of love with me somewhere along the way? Hell, we'd just been talking about starting a family a week ago!

She interrupted my reverie by pushing the dreaded manila envelope across the kitchen table to me as I sat down.

"Maggie, please tell me this isn't what I think it is." I looked at her, and her face was a studied mask that betrayed nothing.

"I'm sorry, Mac." She said softly. "I should have talked to you before, but I want a divorce."

"Why?" I asked with far more calm in my voice than I was feeling at that moment.

"It's complicated." She hedged, looking away.

"You met someone else." I must have been in shock, since I still hadn't flown into a rage.

"Yes." She said even more softly, barely whispering.

"How long?" I asked. God, what was wrong with me?! I should have been standing and seething, pacing back and forth as I called her everything but a Child of God. I should have been threatening the Asshole for whom she was trading me in! I should have felt something other than total numbness!

"8 months." She said.

I closed my eyes. "8 months." I repeated. "You've been cheating on me for 8 fuckin' months, and the first I hear about it is that you want a Divorce." I shrugged. "I suppose you're going to take me to the cleaners in court. Since Alienation of Affection isn't looked kindly upon here in California, I'm left with very little recourse, here."

"No, Mac." She said as she shook her head slowly. "Your business is yours. Not mine. The house is mine by inheritance from my grandparents, but I will give you a few days to vacate. After you've found your own place, of course. I'll be seeking marginal alimony for a while, until I remarry. Nothing bank breaking, though.

I sighed. "Do I know him?" I asked at length.

"If you harm him in any way, you'll end up in jail." She said unnecessarily. Not that I didn't want to fuck him up, but I didn't want to lose my business, either.

"I know that. I think I have a right to know who's been horning me for the past 8 months, though." I shrugged.

"Reginald Pennington." She said, holding her head up straight. Son of a bitch! That, friends, was bombshell #2. I HATED him already, even before this.

Ok, now I was fuckin' angry! I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to calm myself. Reginald FUCKHEAD Pennington. Blonde, blue eyed, mega-rich from Old Money, Hitler's ideal for the "master race", you name it. Oh, and ultra-snobby with a racist bigoted streak a mile wide, too.

I had warned Maggie about him after we had dinner with him to discuss some of the charities we were all involved with at the time. She'd laughed off my warning and told me he was harmless. Yeah, right! Harmless like a fuckin' rattlesnake!

We'd met him at a charity event in our community, and even then I didn't like the way he'd been looking at Maggie. He looked at me with disdain, and looked at her with pure lust in his eyes.

My anger barely under control, I finally managed to look Maggie in the eyes again. "Well, I guess there isn't much I can do about it, then." I shrugged as nonchalantly as I could.

"I wish it hadn't come to this, Mac." She smiled sadly, which I knew was an act. She was just trying to "ease" my pain. I saw through it for what it really was, though.

"That's a lie, Mags." I said evenly. My brain was now working on a plan. "But whatever. I'm not going to contest the divorce, as long as it is what you say it is. I'll have my lawyer go over the papers with me before I sign them, you know."

She nodded. "I wouldn't expect anything less, Mac. Just so you know, it wasn't anything you did or didn't do. Reginald and I just clicked on a soul level. I really do love you, but I'm in love with him. I'm really sorry it has to be this way, Mac."

What a load of bullshit! She was "in love" with his money. His family is worth billions. The night of the charity ball we'd attended, he'd danced too close to Maggie, and as they separated, I noticed him adjusting himself after she was coming back to our table. I knew for a fact that he didn't have enough to satisfy her in bed. I almost missed the fact that he had a hard-on under his tight slacks until he adjusted it. I had to, as I did then, suppress a laugh at the fact that at least cock-wise, Maggie was trading way down from my 7 1/2 inch Beast with the cut head and the 2 1/2 inch width.

But since I didn't want to rock the boat quite yet, I just said "I'm sorry too."

Well, after that little talk, she handed me the manila envelope. "You'll be officially served in the morning, Mac. I'll meet you with my lawyer at Tim's office. This is just a preview of what I want from the settlement." She's referring to Tim Grayson, my best bud since grade school, and my lawyer in all things since I started MacDougall's Chocolate Factory.

"You know what? Get rid of the alimony, and you have a done deal. Reggie is rich. You don't need my money, do you?" I knew it was a longshot, but shit! She owed me that at the very least!

She seemed to think about it. Hell, if she went for it, I might not even go through with the plan that had already semi-formed in my head.

"No, Mac. I need something from all of this. After all, I did waste 10 years of my life with you." Oh HELL NO! That statement right there, that our entire marriage, indeed our entire time together while dating and being engaged, had just been a waste of her time, galvanized me. I looked at the proposed alimony, and raised one eyebrow. She wanted $2200 a month in alimony for two years, or until she remarried, whichever came first. That was about half of what I made per month after overhead and paying my workers. I could live on it, and I had more than enough saved in my personal savings account.

I pretended to think about it. "Fine. I guess that it will be worth it in the end." I shrugged finally. "I'm going to pack now. I'm leaving tonight."

And I did. I packed my suitcase and suit bag with my clothes, toiletries, and all that shit. I also packed my extensive music CD collection that included everything from Marty Robbins to Metallica to Mozart. Yeah, it encompassed all those genres. Hell, I even had some Sir Mixalot in there just for shits and grins.

I loaded it all into Bullitt, my 1968 Mustang Fastback 390 GT, and left out of there. I was gone in less than an hour, and calling Kat on my cellphone as soon as I was on the road.

"Hey, Mac. What's up?" Kat answered on the second ring.

"Kat, I just got kicked out and I'm going to be served Divorce papers in the morning at Tim's office. Maggie is 'trading up', at least in her mind." I snorted, the bitterness finally showing through in my voice.

"Shit! Are you kiddin' me?!" She sounded as shocked as I felt.

"Nope. I'll be staying at the Holiday Inn until I can find a place." I replied.

"Oh HELL no! You get your ass over to my place right now, mister Man!" She was 'going ghetto' on me, as she puts it.

"Fine! Yes, ma'am!" I chuckled in spite of myself.

"Good. See ya when I see ya." She Ended the call, and I couldn't help but smile and shake my head ruefully.

Katrina Monroe is my Manager at the chocolate factory. She looks quite a bit like Aisha Tyler, only a bit younger. Just as tall, though. 6 feet of Nubian goddess. We all call her Kat, and she doesn't object. Her boyfriend, Darius Jackson, plays for the L.A. Dodgers, which made him cool in my book. He was on a road trip right now for 8 games, and would be back sometime next week.

That gave me a few nights at Kat's place in her guestroom before he got back. Hell, Darius was cool with me, so I might be able to stay even longer.

No. I needed to find my own place. Hell, I could probably buy an affordable house outright with what I had in the bank... But then, the 50/50 split in community property hadn't taken place yet. FUCK! Yeah, I'd have to probably rent an apartment for a while before I could afford my own house again.

My thoughts were interrupted as I realized that I was close to Kat's place. Her boyfriend only stayed there sometimes, but he kept after Kat to move in with him down in L.A. Kat wouldn't budge yet, though. She wanted a full-on commitment from him first. As in a ring-on-finger commitment.

So here I was, 32 years old, still in good shape, already a millionaire, but shit on and wiped out by the woman I had fallen in love with and married. My soon-to-be-ex-wife, the cheating gold digging slut.

I pulled into Kat's driveway and parked right next to her little Ford Fusion. I swear to God, that little car cowered in fear of Bullitt. I smirked as I gave Bullitt one more gun of the engine before shutting down the big V-8.

As I opened the trunk and grabbed my suitcase, I saw Kat open the door and walk out in just some daisy dukes and tank top. I caught my breath as I took in her full breasts, straining at the tank top, her long silky legs, and her gorgeous round ass. I quickly pushed those thoughts from my head, however.

I closed the trunk and walked toward her, and Kat let me in without a word. The look on her face was one of disbelief, warring with several other emotions. I'm pretty sure I was still in shock at this point. Yes, I was in shock. It was how I was still functioning.

But no sooner had I gotten inside, but I dropped the suitcase and collapsed to my knees. The depths of what had happened finally, FINALLY sank into my shock addled brain. I had compartmentalized it as long as I could, but now it all came bursting out of my mental compartment and out of my eyes. Great wracking sobs shook my body as the tears flowed freely, and I felt two long female arms go around my shoulders as Kat knelt beside me.

I clung to her desperately, her presence alone holding me in this world and keeping me from completely withdrawing into myself.

"Shh, it's ok now. You're going to be fine, Mac." She soothed.

"No I won't." I shook my head. Yes, I was wallowing in self-pity. I admit that freely.

Her response was to pull my head to her ample bosom, and I felt loved at that moment. The love of a very good friend, but at least I felt love from somebody.

She drew me to my feet with her and we walked... Ok, she walked and I stumbled into the living room and collapsed on her big leather couch.

"Hey, we can watch Darius play! Dodgers are playing the Braves tonight in Atlanta!" She was trying to cheer me up, and she knows how much I love Baseball.

I sniffled like a kid. "Ok, I guess it couldn't hurt." I tried a smile, but I think it ended up as more of a grimace.

She turned on the TV and the game was in the 4th Inning in Atlanta. The score was already 4 - 2, Dodgers. That actually did cheer me up, and took my mind off of my own woes.

Kat got us both a beer, and we watched the game together. It went back and forth for a while, but we ended up winning in extra Innings. By the end, we were laughing and cheering as Darius caught the fly ball to end the game and secure another great Dodgers victory!

I was taking a big swig of the local microbrew when all of a sudden, Kat's laughter stopped.

"You have GOT to be fuckin' kiddin' me!" She exclaimed loudly, her mouth open in shock as she glared daggers at the TV. I followed her gaze, and saw Darius kissing some woman on there. Not just a friendly peck, either. They were engaged in a heated round of tonsil hockey.

"Is there something in the water?" I wondered aloud. It was all I could think of to say as I saw Kat's relationship go down the drain along with my marriage.

"Must be a cheatin' drug in the damn water!" She snarled. I glanced at her, and the fire in her dark brown eyes made ME nervous. "And a WHITE woman?! That son of a bitch! He said he doesn't even like white women!"

I listened to her going off on him for about 20 minutes, then she looked at me and broke down in sobs of her own. I returned her favor from earlier, holding her as she let it all out. When she was all cried out, she looked at me with bloodshot eyes that pretty much mirrored my own.

"Look at us, huh? Two of a fuckin' kind." She laughed sadly, and I smiled as a few stray tears ran down my face too.

"Well, at least Maggie did it to me in private." I shrugged. "That fucktard did it on National Television. I'm so sorry, Kat."

"Not your fault, hon." She hugged me tight, then reached for her cellphone. "Scuse me while I call his cheatin' ass and tell him what fuckin' time it is."

"No problem." I nodded as she hit his speed-dial button.

"Hey, Darius... Uh huh. Yep, we saw the game. Mac came over, since his cheatin' bitch wife is divorcing him and kicked him out... No, he's going to be staying with me for a few days... Just until he can find his own place... No, and that brings me to why I'm calling you. I saw you playing tonsil tag with that ho!" She stopped and listened for a few seconds, rolling her eyes. She silently placed her finger to her lips and hit Speaker so I could listen in. I nodded in understanding.

"But baby, I'm just playin'. I got needs, ya know. She don't mean nothin' to me. I just need a little somethin' somethin' on the side while I'm on the road. You gotta know that." Asshole was whining and wheedling. Dumbfuck didn't belong on the Dodgers now, as far as I was concerned.

"Well, Darius, we are done now." She said with iron in her voice. "I'll have the shit you left here sent back to your place in L.A. I don't want to see you, hear from you, or anything. Ya feel me?"

"But baby..." He started, sounding desperate.

"Nuh uh. You lost the right to call me baby when you sucked face with that ho on National Television. I don't play that shit! We are done. D-O-N-E. Finished. F-I-N-I-S-H-E-D! Get that into your head right now! Goodbye, Darius. I hope the bitch was worth it!"

Before he could whine anymore, Kat Ended the call and blocked his number. She looked at me and gave me a rueful smirk. "Well, that's that. Zero Tolerance."

I nodded. "Zero Tolerance. I agree, Kat. Cheaters don't deserve second chances."

"So, what is she doing with the Divorce? Don't even tell me she's going to take you to the cleaners! I swear, I'll smack the blonde off her head!" Kat always got me going with her euphemisms, and I found myself grinning at that one.

"Strangely, no. She wants $2200 a month in alimony, probably so I won't try to stand in the way of her getting remarried ASAP, but other than that, the settlement she's offering is very fair." I shrugged. I was all cried out, and had come into the 'acceptance' phase of Divorce Grief.

Ok, 'acceptance' was way off. I wanted to make them pay, and now that I was thinking clearly, my plan was coming into shape in my head. It would depend on a few things, like who was catering their wedding, but the more I went over it in my head, the better it felt.

"So she must be serious about the asshole? Did she tell you who it was?" Kat asked.

"Yeah, and you're going to love this. Reginald Pennington IV." I smirked.

Kat's eyes went wide. "Shit! I never woulda taken Maggie for a gold digger!"

"Neither would I, until now. She had everyone fooled, apparently." I shrugged. "Her parents never liked me, so I'm pretty sure they pushed her into it, at least a little. I was never 'good enough' for their little darling." Ok, I have to admit that I let my bitterness show through there for a moment.

"Well, fuck 'em." Kat shrugged. "I can see the wheels turning, Mac. What are you planning?"

Kat could always see when I was thinking really hard. She saw it often enough at work when I'd have to solve some problem in the shop or the factory.

"Revenge of monumental proportions." I smiled serenely as I told her. "Just trust me on this. It will make a lasting impression on them for the rest of their lives."

"Ok, I'm almost afraid to ask. What you got so far?" Kat was chuckling now.

I laid out my basic plan for her, and she erupted into gut-busting laughter. "You are one CRAZY mothafucka!" She squealed as tears of laughter fell down her face. "Ok, we need to figure out how to do this shit!"

So we did. We stayed up, drinking beers and hashing out our plan of action for when the wedding would take place. We figured that in 3 months, since I wasn't going to fight the Divorce, that they'd get married 1 to 6 months after that. We'd be ready, and if I could remain cordial with Maggie, and yes, even Reginald, I might be able to get into the wedding without crashing it.

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