Shattered Ch. 02

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I would like to thank everyone who provided constructive criticism to the first chapter. Again, I apologize for not putting "Chapter One" on the first segment of the story. For those of you who did not wish for me to continue the story, then you do not have to read the second chapter. As always, your comments are welcome, and I encourage you to provide more feedback at the end of this chapter.

*****

Towering trees blurred by on either side of the sports car as the happy couple navigated the winding road on a dark summer's night. The evening was perfect for a secret encounter as they were the only people out on the road. The radio gods favored their midnight rendezvous by populating the air waves with love songs. The happy couple laughed at the irony of the late night infomercials played on the radio suggesting that there were hot women staying in, talking on the phones rather than going out and being social. The serenity of the night took away the stress and strain of the daily routines in life. No bills that needed to be paid. No household chores that needed to be done. Nothing mattered except the two people spending time together. The lonely country road fueled the nostalgia and the ability to travel back in time as if they were teenagers all over again. The age of the couple did not figure in to their plans.

The towering trees were not the only phallus symbol along this twisting and winding path. The well built specimen of a man had unzipped his jeans and had revealed his thick penis, giving a knowing glance to the woman sitting in the passenger seat. The veins in the man's cock throbbed with excitement as the woman's eyes bulged at the sight. She reached across so that she could grab hold of the hard shaft, mesmerized by how small her hand looked in comparison to the man's member. The mushroom head seemed to call out to her, begging her to kiss it. The man freed a hand from the steering wheel so that he could guide the woman's lips closer and closer. It was clear what he wanted.

"We're going too fast," protested the woman. Her words lacked conviction as she was mere inches away from welcoming the man's cock into her mouth. Compulsion grabbed her. She planted a loving kiss on the tip of the cock. As she stared at the object of her desire, she found the words to say, "I don't even do this for my husband."

"I'm not your husband," replied the man in a smug tone.

*****

The soft tones of the office telephone brought the distraught man back to the present. Normally, the telephone was the bane of his existence while at work. Constant calls about a computer not working properly, or the system going slow, or any other grievance that centered on 'user error' kept his department busy to the point of being irritated and annoyed. The ringing would normally generate groans and smirks; however, the sound of something other than his thoughts and wild imagination was a welcomed relief. The fact that the caller ID showed up as the Switchboard on the phone's LCD display helped temporarily.

"Information Technology, this is Steve. How may I help you?" was the programmed response from the IT Director.

"Hey," greeted Amber. Her tone quite somber and demure as she questioned, "How are you doing? Are you going to be ok?"

How do you think I'm doing? My wife is fucking around on me, and you think I'm going to be ok?His thoughts screamed out, lashing out at the first person that he encountered. However, Steve had enough sense to filter his response, "Oh, I'll be fine. Just..." He paused in an attempt to keep the emotions from surfacing; however, he failed miserably. "... It hurts, but I'll get through it." He paused to regain some sense of composure, but dutifully asked, "What can I do for you, ma'am?"

"Steve..." Amber wanted to say so much more, but couldn't find the words. Not without sounding like a greeting card found in some novelty shop. Her heart reached out to him. "Steve, the doctor would like to speak with you about your wife."

What? Does he want her cell phone number so he can give her a call once she's recovered in order to have her thank him properly?Again with the cynicism, though not once does his filter allow this to pass through to his mouth. "Oh joy." Steve mimicked the physician in his head.Yes, Steve, your wife has an inflamed larynx caused by having a giant penis stuffed down her throat at the time of the accident. She won't be able to speak ever again.He contemplated whether or not to list that as a pro or a con since she would not be able to nag him any more. "I'll be right there."

The early morning hours in the Emergency Department focused on two rooms. Patient care and proper documentation ruled the air. The skeleton crew of nurses attended to not only the needs of the patients, but also the attention of the only physician on duty. Entering orders, typing up nurse's notes, receiving lab results and x-ray reports were common tasks and considered the norm. However, upon Steve's arrival to the ER, the nurses found other duties that were suddenly neglected such as checking and stocking supplies. It was only the physician that turned to face him.

"We have stabilized your wife, and we are preparing to have her airlifted to St. Mary's Medical," explained the Indian doctor.

Twenty years of marriage, love and devotion was hard to turn off for the hurt husband. Instinct forced him to inquire, "Airlifted? What's wrong? Is she ok?" He looked past the physician towards the occupied trauma room, expecting that his wife was behind the closed curtain. It was with that gaze that he spotted movement from one of the hallways. The night watchman had made his way in a casual manner to the ER, though his intent was clear: monitor the exchange between physician and the 'angry' husband.

The physician continued in his heavily accented English, "There was some swelling near the spinal cord, affecting her motor functions. Fortunately, there was sensation in her extremities. She's breathing on her own. She's currently on methylprednisolone and being sent to St. Mary's Medical for surgery, to relieve the swelling and to decompress the spinal cord."

Oh, you have got to be shitting me.Steve looked to the ceiling in frustration and aggravation.Do you hate me? Do I look like Job to you?After cursing the heavens, Steve looked the physician in the eye and asked, "Will she be able to walk again?"

"We should know more after the surgery. The fact that she's showing signs of sensory perception in her toes is quite promising," answered the physician.

Steve spied the other exam room being occupied this evening. The pulled curtain protected the privacy and the identity of its occupant. A glance towards the security guard stopped Steve from doing something reckless and stupid. A feigned smile accompanied Steve's response to the physician. "Thank you, Doctor."

The lonesome back corridor of the Emergency Department, generally used for the transitioning of patient care such as moving ER patients to surgery or radiology or admitting ER patients up to med/surg as an in-patient, served as refuge for Steve. Dubbed the "Interstate Corridor" by hospital employees based on its length, the quiet and the long expanse of the hallway provided the IT Director with time to focus his thoughts. With each step, Steve realized that his life resembled the crisis that the hospital faced not an hour ago. The centralized switch failed, causing chaos and disarray throughout the entire hospital. Jill was his 'centralized switch'.

In the safety and privacy of the network operations center, his favorite comic book anti-hero would be proud of his technological man-cave. Tucked away in a hidden closet with the spaghetti mess of network cables and twisted pairs used for the telephone circuitry, Steve found sanctity and serenity in the IT fortress of solitude. The green, blue, orange and red LED lights, which belonged to the various pieces of network equipment, had a calming effect similar to that of an illuminated Christmas tree in a darkened family room. Steve plugged his laptop into the radiology network and pulled up the PACS software.HIPAA be damned. I'm simply verifying the integrity of patient data after experiencing a potential for data loss, Steve told himself with a sense of purpose. If my wife was being stabilized for a spinal injury, then it was you who needed the CAT scan, mother fucker. Let's find out exactly who you are.

The violation of the governmental regulations hardly registered in Steve's mind as the different screens appeared on his laptop's display. The patient's demographics was the first screen accessed, revealing not only Don Juan's real name, but his address, phone number, and his employer. Unable to curb his technological fetish, Steve scrolled through the numerous images of the CT scan. While he may not have understood what he was seeing, seeing the 'insides' of the man who wrecked his life provided a mild form of catharsis. It humanized his villain. Finally, he accessed the preliminary radiology report to discover that he suffered a mild concussion and would be held overnight at the hospital.

While the pain and anguish lingered in the back of his mind, Steve compartmentalized his thoughts. In the confines of his home away from home, the images of his wife's infidelity were pushed to the background. His task at hand revolved around obtaining information about his wife's lover; a task similar to his system audit responsibilities. In his mind, Steve was back at work where he was safe from harm. The sudden ringing of the telephone startled Steve out of his thoughts and processing of information before him. A quick glance to the LCD display caused him to emit a tiny chuckle. "Do you have a GPS tracking system on me or something? How did you know I was here?"

Amber's voice and her words touched his heart, "I know you, Steve." There was a pregnant pause before she continued, "Besides, your car is still out in the parking lot. I can see it on the security cam. And since you didn't answer in your office, and you weren't back in ER, I figured this would be the next place that you would be."

"Touché, young lady," replied Steve. The mention of the ER brought images of his cheating wife back to the forefront in his mind. His voice cracked as he asked, "Anyway, what's up?"

Again, a pregnant pause was noticed before she relinquished, "There is a Gloria here to see you? She said you called her. Should I tell her about –"

Steve cut her off almost immediately, "No, I can do that, Amber. Thanks for letting me know she's here. Could you direct her to the cafeteria? I need to pack up in here and then I'll be right there."

Gloria was married to "wandering eye" Dan and was their friend and neighbor. During the day, Jill and Gloria would often times have coffee together and would get caught up on their soaps. Since Gloria and Dan did not have children, they would invite Steve and Jill over for dinner. Steve cared very little for Dan's egotistical and materialistic nature; however, Gloria was quite charming even if she fell out of the pages of a salon beauty magazine. Through the store bought California blonde hair and the silicone enhanced breasts, Steve could see the goodness of the woman's heart. The changes she made were out of love and devotion for her husband. Of course, she had to compete with the young, gold digging secretaries.The asshole is so busy with sniffing around other women; he doesn't see what he has in front of him. She's just another trophy to him. He's such a fool.

Even with it being nearly 4am, Gloria appeared to have rolled out of bed as if she just walked out of a hair salon. In the dim lighting of the hospital's cafeteria, he could see that her long blonde hair was perfectly straightened, with none of the dark roots showing. Her make-up was subtle, but brought out the beauty of her high cheekbones. Her clothes, while modest, highlighted her Barbie doll curves.

"Steve, you sounded so distraught over the phone! Are you all right? Is everything ok?" Her whirlwind of questions paused as she had a minor epiphany, but then she returned to her onslaught of questions. "Jill said that you were at a conference all week. What are you doing home? Did something happen to the boys or to Jill?"

During the friendly interrogation, Steve poured himself a cup of coffee with enough creamer and sugar to wonder if it should actually be called a cup of cream with a touch of coffee. When Gloria showed signs of no further questions, Steve exhaled slowly a cleansing breath and then answered in a somber tone, "Jill was in a car accident about an hour to an hour and a half ago. Apparently, there's some swelling around her spinal cord. She's being airlifted to St. Mary's Medical for surgery."

Gloria gasped, placing a hand to her chest. Like all men, Steve could not avert his eyes from drifting towards the impressive rack the woman had, especially when she brought attention to her bust with a simple gesture like that. With a concerted effort, he pulled his eyes away and continued, "I think there's some concern about paralysis, but the doctor did mention something about sensation in her toes. He wouldn't commit, though, to a definite answer. I guess we'll know more after the surgery."

"What was she doing out that late at night? Were the boys with her?" Gloria found a chair and sat down, overcome with her friend's tragedy.

Steve shook his head, "No, they're away at college. Jake decided it would be cool to get a summer job up there, so that he had spending money for when school started. And, Justin had moved out a while ago, now that he's a junior and ready to be a 'man'." As he talked about the boys, a sense of pride overwhelmed him. "I called them to let them know their mother was in an accident."

She inquired, "So what happened? Do you know? Did she say anything to you?"

Steve took a long sip of his coffee in an effort to curb his tongue. He savored the flavor, calming himself before saying, "I don't know exactly what happened. I haven't seen a police report of the accident, though Jimmy was going to find out for me. And the ER staff was busy stabilizing her that I couldn't get in there to see her."

Gloria narrowed her eyes, sensing a bit of half-truths in Steve's response. "Steve, what is it? What's wrong? There's something you're not telling me."

With all the pent up emotion built up in his heart, Steve stood up from his chair and began to pace. "Has she said anything to you? Not today, but in the last month or so?" He threw his hands up in the air in a helpless gesture, "About anything? About me? About how I'm spending too much time at work or about me not going to gym with her?" He sighed, pleading for some sense of understanding from his wife's confidant, "Anything?"

"Just your typical 'ragging on the husband' nonsense that every wife says about their husband. I'm sure it's the same with you and the guys. How we are total bitches and do nothing but nag, nag, nag," Gloria answer's was tempered with uncertainty and confusion.

Steve continued his pacing circuit, looking for some kind of answer or some kind of revelation, "Then what about other men? She's been going to the gym a lot. I mean, she looks fantastic. Does she talk about the guys at the gym?"

"Well, she has talked about a few guys, but it was all B.O.B. fodder. I don't think any of it was serious. You know, just like men jacking off to some big breasted actress wearing nothing but a string bikini in some B-movie," explained the good neighbor, though the tone in her voice conveyed that she knew more.

"Bob fodder? What the hell is that?" snapped Steve, unable to contain the rage within his heart to lash out at someone for his wife's infidelity.

The unexpected burst caused Gloria to recoil. In a defensive tone, she said, "B.O.B. stands for battery operated boyfriend. You know, her vibrator? Steve, don't get so bent out of shape. It's only her vibe. There's nothing to be insecure about. She loves you."

"Bullshit!" His voice carried just a little too loudly in the empty cafeteria. Steve took a deep breath in an attempt to regain composure. With a stern look, Steve lashed out, "Bullshit, Gloria. When a guy jacks off to some movie star beauty queen, the likelihood of that guy stumbling into that actress and getting her in his bed is like a million to one. It's never going to happen." He exhales before pursing his lips. His eyes bore holes into his neighbor's trophy wife in an attempt to see her thoughts. "When you fantasize about the next door neighbor or the guy at the gym you see every day, the chances of something happening increases exponentially!"

Gloria failed to hold back the whimsical laughter. She did her best to be sympathetic to Steve's outburst as she explained, "Steve, I've seen the way you look at me, or rather my breasts. I'm all right with that. After all, they're store bought and should be appreciated." She attempted a smile to lighten the mood. "So you can't tell me you don't fantasize about me, or some of the nurses that work here? I bet you have a few naughty nurse scenes in your fantasies."

Steve's shoulders dropped, succumbing to the frustration, "Ok, yes, I fantasize from time to time. However, you know what? There's a difference between fantasy and reality. I never take fantasy in to the real world. Fantasy is just that, fantasy. Something make-believe and would never happen in real life."

Gloria reached out to him, placing her hand upon his forearm and gave a gentle squeeze, "Jill would never do anything like that, Steve. It's all just girl talk." Again, she smiled at him in an attempt to lighten the mood. "Don't you trust her?"

Steve broke away from the touch, much like a sailor avoiding the call of the deadly siren, "Not any more!" It was one thing to think the words, but it was another thing to actually say them. When Steve spoke the word aloud, it made them real. The dam broke. Tears filled his eyes as he collapsed into his chair. Defeated, he said, "I caught them. I saw them in my own bed."

The revelation took her breath away. She asked softly, "Caught who?"

"What can you tell me about Christopher Whitman?" The question sounded like it should be coming from a detective, interrogating a person of interest to a crime. Steve watched Gloria closely for any signs of deceit or recognition.

Her eyes widened in shock as Steve mentioned the name. Carefully, she shook her head and did her best to sound unsure, "I don't know who that is, Steve? Is he a friend of yours?"

He tilted his head, giving the woman an expectant look that suggested he did not believe her. He clucked his tongue before responding in a challenging manner, "Christopher Whitman works for your husband's trucking company. Do I need to go ask him who he is?"

Resigned to her fate, Gloria downturned her eyes and relented, "All right. Chris was a forklift operator at one of my husband's warehouses. With the economy taking a down turn, and Dan needing to eliminate some of the fleet, it meant that hours were being cut at the warehouses. With no trucks to unload, there was no need for forklift operators. Since Dan and Chris were tight, he offered him a job at our house as a handyman."

Gloria's cheeks turned rosy red as she continued with her story, "Jill came over the day after you left for your conference and caught us being naughty." She swallowed and subconsciously licked her lips as she visualized the memory. "I was sunbathing topless right in front of him. He so brazenly took out his cock and started stroking it right in front of me and right in our backyard for everyone to see. It was then that Jill walked in, saw what was going, apologized profusely and then ran back to your house, totally embarrassed. Since then, she always called first to make sure it was safe to come over. Plus, she always left for home if Chris came into the room."