Something We Have to Talk About

With a deep sorrowful sigh she dropped her eyes from Jonathan back to her hands that were once again clasped resting on the table. "I would hope that if you loved me enough you would understand what this means to me and be happy for me.'

Tears starting to form in her eyes, she looked back to Jonathan's eyes, her eyes, her expression almost questioning, begging. "I don't know what else I can say or tell you. I only thought that your love for me would be strong enough for you to look past your male ego and selfish desires and want the best for me. I'm sorry if you can't do that. I'm very sorry."

She sobbed, putting a hand in front of her mouth, she jumped from her chair, running from the dining room and down the hall towards the bedroom. The door behind her, closed with a slam.

Jonathan stiffly walked over into the kitchen and pulled a bottle of Jim Beam from out of one of the cabinets. Before moving back into the dining room he tipped the full bottle up and drank letting the liqueur flow down his throat in three than a final four heavy gulps.

Sitting back on that same chair he had before, he stared for a moment back at the corner and the chair Susan had been sitting in. Lifting the open bottle once again he toasted, "Here's to my loving wife, here's to my fucking, loving, adulterous slut-wife." Then with the bottle pressed to his lips, he allowed another 3 heavy gulps of whiskey to slide down his throat.

Jonathan normally never got angry drunk, but this night wasn't normal was it? The more Jonathan drank, the angrier and more depressed Jonathan seemed to be getting. Normal quiet Jonathan was also getting to be very verbal. Angry depressive thoughts and alcohol was allowing Jonathan to not only become very verbal, he was also becoming very abusive in his language.

At one point Jonathan got up and staggered bouncing off the walls walking towards the closed bedroom door. Finding it locked he slammed his fist against it, "God damn it Susan! You're not only fucking others. You're locking me out of my own goddamn bedroom. I can't even be a man in my own house anymore. You fucking turned me into a cuckold and wimp that isn't allowed to sleep in his own goddamn fucking bedroom anymore. What's next? You going to fuck him in our own bedroom? Is he going to be sleeping now in my bed, in my place instead of me? Is that your next move? Or has that already happened?"

Jonathan staggered back into the dinning room, but not before calling out once more the Susan, "You're a goddamn fucking slut Susan. I hope you know that. I never should have married your whore ass."

About a half an hour later Susan walked back out of the bedroom. She was dressed and had a small overnight case of clothing in one hand. Intending first not to stop, she did though. For moments she looked staring in pity at Jonathan now completely inebriated, his head on the table, the bottle of Jim Beam mostly empty and tipped over in front of him.

Just before she turned to leave, Jonathan saw her and raised his head for a moment. "Going to your lover slut?"

Susan did not answer him at first, but turned and walked away, opening the door. "Yes, Jonathan I am going to him tonight. You're so angry and drunk I'm afraid of what you could do. You've said enough cruel things to last me a lifetime. If I hear anymore I'll only learn to hate you. I only pray that tomorrow you'll think differently and that we can talk."

Jonathan slept for a time to than awake, pulling the bottle once more to his lips. Then he fell back asleep.

Once during the night he did though wake and felt even halfway sober. He stumbled then into the bedroom. Sitting on the bed, feeling so alone, the full volume and consequences of last evening swept over him. He cried in deep hysterical sobs that did not seem to end.

Yes, this is how I'm ending my very first cheating wife story. Things don't happen always the way we'd like them to, or how we think they should end. We all are independently thinking people with free choice to act according to our perception of subjective chance. So, things do happen differently, and we either learn to cope, or we don't. Just like with all of us, it's now up to Susan and Jonathan to either cope and find livable solutions to problems or not. But, either way, life goes on, even if, without us. -- Nicole