Tell Me Why

I had been on a rare business trip and I was eager to get back home and relax. The older I get, the more I appreciate my home, cuddling with the wife, and a couple cold beers. You really can't ask for too much more, can you?

I walked through the doorway and heard nothing. Usually, Jen would have the radio on, or a CD of Enya playing when she was home alone. I went through the living room and into the kitchen. Jen was sitting at the table, crying like a baby.

After 23 years of marriage, I am able to detect certain hints that indicate unhappiness. This was definitely one of them! I quickly realized that whatever the problem was, it wasn't an emergency. Jen handles them very well and only allows tears when there is time to spend on personal emotions.

I grabbed a cold MGD from the refrigerator, pulled out a chair from under the table, and sat down across from Jen. I knew she would tell me the cause of her tears when she was ready. I didn't know it would take so long. Jen just blubbered for another 15 minutes as I sipped my beer and waited.

"Mike, I have done something terrible and I feel like dying!" she finally wailed.

Then the tears started in again. I sat there, not really daring to attempt a guess as to what exactly Jen had done. With my wife, a terrible thing could range from cold-blooded murder to accidentally admitting her true weight. It took another two minutes, but she blew her nose and composed herself.

"I went to Tom and Linda's party last night. Remember we accepted an invitation before you found out you had to leave town on business?" asked Jen. "You said I should make an appearance anyway?"

I nodded my head and waited.

"I guess I had more to drink than I realized. A man there offered to give me a lift home so I wouldn't have an accident or get picked up by the police for driving under the influence," continued Jen. "He walked me to the door and I tried to thank him by shaking his hand. He just took me in his arms and kissed me hard!"

"Jen, I don't think you have to be so upset," I finally spoke. "If you like, I will look him up and straighten him out on that."

"Mike! That isn't the problem. At least it is only the beginning of the mess I am in. He persuaded me to invite him in and the next thing I knew, we were having sex in our bed!" she almost screamed in her agony.

I would have felt better if she had taken the butcher knife and plunged it into my heart! I felt dizzy and weak. I began to perspire and I felt cold. It was if I was suddenly afflicted with some terrible disease or infection, or something. Breathing became difficult. I lowered my head to my hands and tried to regain control. If I had been able to think of a response, I wouldn't have been able to voice it. I don't believe I passed out, but I lost all track of time. Jen's loud crying was the only noise in the room.

I don't know how long I sat there, but eventually I began to regain some semblance of rational thought. I knew I could not control myself to remain civil to Jen, and I had no desire to physically harm her. I stood, grabbed another beer and walked back out the front door. We have a front porch with some wicker furniture on it. I sat down in a chair in the evening shadows and tried to think through my anger. I could faintly hear Jen's sobs from the kitchen.

We had been married 23 years, had two kids in college, and were just beginning to feel comfortable with our lives. In fact, I thought we were happier than we ever had been. Our income was more than adequate. We hadn't had any of those money spats lately, which married people, especially with kids, so often have. I had adjusted to the empty nest easier than Jen, but I thought we were doing great.

To go from being a contented guy to contemplating divorce in a matter of minutes was quite a leap. I knew myself well enough to know I would never have an open marriage, or enjoy any kind of swinging lifestyle. I needed the complete devotion of one woman and I always felt I had it. I had never strayed, or even came close.

We were partners. We owned everything jointly. We were best friends, or at least we had been. I would have laid down my life for Jen and been proud and happy to do it. She was such a large part of what I was, that I couldn't see how I could function without her. I had become dependent on her presence, her wisdom, and her love. Now I was sitting in the twilight weighing if, and how, I should rid myself of her. It was the lowest point of my life.

Finally, I drew a deep breath and went back into the house. Jen had stopped crying. She was probably dehydrated and simply unable to shed any more tears. I sat back down at the table.

Jen slowly raised her eyes to look into mine. It appeared that she was deeply shocked at what she saw. She gave an audible gasp and her hands trembled nervously.

"When you are ready to discuss this, this situation without tears and crying, let me know. We have a great deal we need to determine. I will try to be fair," I stated so coldly and unemotionally I surprised myself.

My lack of emotion wasn't lost on Jen, either. She slowly shook her head as she listened to me.

"Mike!" she sobbed again. "Don't leave me, please. It was a mistake. It won't ever happen again. I promise!"

"I have no reason to trust you or believe anything you tell me, Jen. I thought I could bet my life on you. Shit! I pretty much have bet my life on you. 23 years is a long goddamn time to invest in anything to have it go bust!" I replied.

"We have to decide our course of action from here on, but you have to be rational. I think it would be best if we just avoid each other for awhile," I reasoned. "When you feel you are able to answer my questions and make some decisions, let me know. However, do not think this can drag out indefinitely. It can't. I can't, and won't, live like this very long."

I got up and went to the linen closet and dug out linens for our son's bed. Jen watched in abject misery as I made up the bed.

"Mike, can't you still sleep with me, in our room?' she pleaded. "I need you more than I ever have."

"That's a goddamn shame!" I snapped. "What the hell do you think I am? A fucking wimp? A spineless shit that will sleep in the same bed his wife betrayed him in? Sleep with the unfaithful tramp that betrayed him? I have never been unfaithful, and I'll be goddamned if I'll sleep in a bed, or room, were my wife has made me a fucking cuckold!"

I firmly guided her from the room and locked the door. It was early but I was totally drained. I slept in short spans that night and got up in the morning feeling more exhausted than when I went to bed.

To my surprise, Jen was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee in front of her. I checked the clock and it was 5 AM. I couldn't remember that last time we were both up that early on a Sunday morning. I poured myself a cup and took a seat at the table.

"I want to get this over with, Mike," she announced. "I will tell you everything and you can tell me what comes next."

"Then start talking and don't make me ask a bunch of questions. You know what I need to hear and I expect you to tell me," I answered. "Go ahead and start."

"I started out having fun at the party, but I must have had a few too many drinks and you weren't there to take care of me. This guy flirted with me from the time he found out you weren't coming," admitted Jen. "I enjoyed the attention. As you know, I am 44 years old. It felt good to have a man seem interested in me."

I stood up suddenly and refilled my cup. Jen stopped talking when I moved so abruptly.

"I can see this isn't going to work, Jen. You want to play games and I am in no mood. It is taking every thing I have to control my anger," I warned. "You are not helping at all."

"I thought you wanted to know what happened, Mike," she responded. "I was just…."

"Shut the fuck up!" I snarled. "You are trying to use spin control here. You know what I have to hear, but instead you're just bullshitting me. I am not in the mood. I'll ask the questions and you answer them!"

Jen was shocked. I had never spoken to her like that before. I had always treated her with respect and love. But then, she had always deserved it before. She slowly nodded her head and I started in.

"Who the hell was this cocksucker? You have been remiss in revealing that rather important fact," I told her.

"I really think it would be better if you didn't know, Mike. I know you and you'll do something bad and get into trouble. I think…"

"Then pack your fucking bags and hit the fucking road!" I yelled. "If you were thinking of me you wouldn't have fucked him, would you? If you want to keep things from me, fine. My lawyer will talk to your lawyer and you can carry your lover's name to your grave. Shit, you'll probably move in with the bastard. If that's what you want, then we'll skip this agony. Just pack and go!"

"No, Mike!" cried Jen. "He isn't my lover! I don't want to ever see him again. I'm just afraid you'll kill him or something. I couldn't live with that."

"If you want to decide what you can live with, and what you can keep from me, we are done right now." I declared. "Either you answer every question or get the fuck out. Those are your options."

"It was Wes Stevens!" blurted Jen. "His wife was at a family funeral. He, he slept with me."

I showed no more emotion to Jen. In my mind, I was wondering if I could kick his ass. One thing was certain. I was going to give it my best shot! He was a little taller than me and maybe 10 pounds heavier. I also had about five years on him, but fuck it! It was mine to do, and I had no intentions of shirking that duty. There are a few things in life that are so obvious, so clear to a man, that they need no thought. I had to keep an appointment with Wes Stevens.

"Did you suck his cock, Jen?" I demanded. "How big is his cock, anyway?"

"Mike! Don't talk to me like that!"

"Well, fuck you!" I shot back. "You don't deserve any consideration. Any time you feel you are betraying your lover, you can walk and I will never ask again, but you won't be allowed back through that door without a court order!"

Jen was just beginning to realize the depth of my anger. She had always been able to charm, cajole, or coerce her way with me. As upset as she had been, I don't think she really knew how thin the ice was. She was starting to understand. She slumped a little in resignation and fear.

"He wanted me to suck his cock, but I wouldn't. I wasn't that certain I even wanted to be with him, but he was persistent and I was weak. It is not an excuse, I know. His cock was very similar to yours. I even remember thinking to myself that most men must have about the same equipment," answered Jen.

"Did you use a condom?"

Jen blushed and looked to the floor as she answered, "No."

"Did he come inside you?" I grilled.

"Y…yes, he did," confessed Jen.

"Do you plan on keeping the baby?" I quietly asked.

"Ohh! Mike! I shouldn't get pregnant. I had my period a few days ago," Jen assured me. "I was safe."

"It sounds like you considered it at the time and decided to risk it. Is that accurate?"

"No, it isn't. I thought about it all day yesterday," Jen told me. "That was pure luck."

"Yeah, that was lucky," I repeated sarcastically. "Time will tell how lucky it was."

Jen had been holding up pretty well but was beginning to weaken as my questions cut her to the core. It was extremely difficult for a woman that had always been as moral as Jen to discuss such a sordid subject, especially when she was involved. Tears began tracing paths down her cheeks.

"Did you have an orgasm, Jen? How many times did you do it? Did he come more than once? What positions did you do? Did you make any plans to meet again? Did you think of me at all? Do you want more strange cock now? Should we run an ad in the paper or on the Internet? How much fucking do you want, and need?" I went on without mercy. "Tell me!"

"I didn't have an orgasm. I didn't really enjoy it. He just stuck it in and came, just once. He was terrible. I don't want to ever see him again and I don't want any one but you, ever again! I wish it had never happened." sobbed Jen.

"Why did you confess to me?" I asked more gently. "Why didn't you keep it a secret?"

"I knew I would go crazy with guilt, Mike. The only way I can survive this horrible mistake is to get you to forgive me and love me again. I pray you can!" Jen replied passionately.

"That is the single reason I haven't tossed you out, possibly after using my belt on your ass for ten minutes or so," I told her. "If I had found this out some other way, it would have been far worse. Believe me."

"And I do deserve a beating, Mike. If that would help, I would gladly let you whip me till the skin was gone. I would feel punished and be able to pick up the pieces of our life," confided Jen. "If only it were that simple!"

"You will give two weeks notice tomorrow that you are quitting your job," I stated. "You will make an appointment with your doctor and get checked for disease and pregnancy."

"Mike! I am due for a promotion and a raise this year! I will stay away from Wes. I don't work on the same floor that he works on," Jen reasoned. "I can avoid him."

I sat there looking into Jen's red, swollen eyes as she pleaded her case. I didn't even blink. I had made my decision. She would now have to make hers. As she returned my stare, she reached her decision.

"Okay, I'll submit my resignation and make an appointment with the clinic. I really fucked things up, didn't I, Mike?" asked Jen.

"Give away the bed and we'll remodel the bedroom so I can stand being in the room. I will sleep alone in Tom's room indefinitely. This is not going to be easy for me to forget, or at least forgive, Jen. I feel I have to try. I have too much invested in you to give up. That doesn't mean it will work. I really have been hurt by your actions," I admitted.

"Mike, I'll do anything you want of me to make it up. You are being hard, but I can see it is the only way. Don't give up on me, please. You will be glad you gave me this chance, I promise." Jen managed between sobs.

Jen gave notice at her job the next day. She made an appointment with her doctor for Friday. At night she worked on a resume for finding a new position. She made dinner and pretty much left me to my thoughts. I was having a tough time.

I never had doubts about Jen before. I had always trusted her implicitly and shared all my thoughts with her. Now I felt both alone, and lonely. I missed the little things, the smiles, the quick kisses, the quick feels, and the sharing. I couldn't believe how much Jen's indiscretion had changed my very personality.

I no longer trusted her, which was destroying my feelings for her. It had to be hard for Jen, but I really didn't care about her. I was far too concerned with my own well-being.

My hairline was receding a little, my chest seemed to be headed south and my eyebrows jutted in every direction. Hair had begun to sprout in my ears. I found myself wondering if I could somehow comb it back to meet my hairline. My confidence had taken a severe blow. Did Jen want a younger, more virile man? I had never been an Adonis and Jen was a very attractive woman. Suddenly I was a jealous husband. I was insecure. Jen had taken that trust and contentment I had enjoyed and destroyed it. Now every man was a potential competitor and I didn't feel that I offered very much competition. I was miserable.

It was three weeks later that I bumped into Wes Stevens. I was with a coworker and we had just visited a jobsite, checking on the progress of the crew and to see if anything was needed. We were headed for the car when I saw Wes picking his way through the construction debris. His company sold and installed security systems and he was probably trying to make a commission selling to our project. I never actually found out for sure.

"Hey guys," he yelled to us. "Wait up. I want to talk to you."

We had only met a couple times at a some of Jen's company functions. Men don't remember the husbands of women they want to fuck, but men do remember the men that try to fuck their wives. He didn't place me as Jen's husband. We were just two guys he was trying to network. As he walked around a delivery truck to reach us, I took the opportunity to give my coworker a heads-up.

"Dave, this shithead and I are going to have a go-round. I expect you to stand back and stay the hell out of it, okay?" I demanded more then asked.

Dave gave me a quick look and nodded. I think he could see how deadly serious I was.

"Would you two be the ones I should talk to about security needs here?" asked Wes.

"I'm the one you should talk to about taking advantage of Jen, asshole," I answered. He looked bigger than I remembered.

"Jen?" repeated this Wes. "I'm here on business, Buddy. We can discuss trim latter."

I have always heard that the first punch is a huge advantage. I hate to think how things would have turned out if I hadn't landed the first shot to his jaw. He staggered back and shook his head. Then he came back at me cursing and swinging. I'd like to say I gave him a proper beating, but I didn't.

Five minutes later we were both bleeding and gasping for a breath. Word had spread and we had a dozen guys from the construction crew standing in a circle with Wes and me in the middle. He was ahead on points, I knew. I was taking a lot of shots to the head and chest. The difference was my three weeks of pent up rage. I wouldn't go down and I wouldn't quit. I don't know if I finally put him down or if he fell from exhaustion, but he was down and I was standing, barely.

Dave helped me into the car and drove me to the emergency room. My nose had been broken and I needed to have a few stitches in my cheek and over my left eye. They gave me a prescription for the pain. Then Dave dropped me off at my house.

"Go to bed and get some sleep, Mike," he suggested. "I'll tell them at work you weren't feeling good. That was one hell of a fight!. I won't ask what it was about."

"Thanks, Dave. Thanks for everything. I'll be better by Monday," I assured him.

"Your head will be swelled up like a fucking basketball on Monday," laughed Dave. "I got into a fracas like that in college. It took well over a week for the swelling to go down. I was the winner, too."

I didn't want Jen to see me so I tried to sneak into the house and slip into my room undetected. Like everything else that I tried lately, it didn't work. I was a little unsteady and banged into the coffee table as I tried to tiptoe through the living room. Jen heard me and came in from the laundry room. She gasped when she saw me.

"Oh, Mike!" she cried. "What happened? Oh my God, you were in a fight, weren't you? I can guess who you were fighting with! Lie down and let me get some ice."

I didn't have the strength to argue and I knew some ice would be a good idea. I could feel my eye swelling shut. I sat down and closed my eyes. I was beginning to hurt in places I didn't know I had been hit.

Jen put some wet cloths and some ice bags on my lumps, of which there were plenty. Then I felt water dripping on my forehead, so I opened my good eye to see what she was doing. There were tears streaming from Jen's eyes and landing on me.

"Oh, Mike! What have I done to you?" sniffled Jen as she gently wiped my face and applied the ice. "You never had any problems like this before. It's my fault that you are all cut and swollen. It looks like your nose is broken! I am so sorry, Mike!"

It sounds strange, but I felt better on the inside than I had since Jen told me about her and Wes. It was the closure, however brutal and barbaric, that I had needed. I felt more like a man and less like a cuckold wimp. I reached out and squeezed Jen's hand in mine.