A Chance and a Change

I was twenty three at the time and It was time for me to move out from my parents' house and this was the prodding I needed. When my mom saw empty rooms and bare floors. There was nothing, not even a bed so they took me to Orange Furniture where they bought me a queen bed and a kitchen table set. We stopped at Home Depot for two rugs. I managed to find the rest of what I needed at garage and moving sales over the next few weeks. You would be surprised how nice the stuff and how cheap it is when you go to the last day of a moving sale in a neighborhood full of McMansions.

I fondly remember my mom heading back that day I moved out and into my own place. My mom beamed at me then hugged me, "I am so proud of you!"

Yeah, I adore my parents and have no basis to complain about my childhood. I know kids who had awful parents and it made me realize just how lucky I was as a kid.

Business was almost the same as when Richard had run it and my income soon climbed dramatically now that I owned my own business. I was pretty proficient with the internet and understood things like search engine optimization and this new company named Facebook which I did in addition to the phone book and good old-fashioned networking. I also took a booth in the Summer 2007 Home Show down in Rockland County where I had a bigger version of my 'English Pub' Bar. I had all the work I could handle and was backlogged from that show into the following spring.

*******

Part two

She sure can fill in a bikini.

I met my future wife, Brittany going into a McMansion in Sparta, New Jersey in August of 2008. I was there to Install some commercial cabinets in this oversized three-car garage. I was in the kitchen getting a deposit check from the homeowner, William Rossi when Brittany came in with a weasley-looking guy. Brittany sure could fill in a bikini nicely... WOW.

Well, Weasel came in and looked at me in my work boots, T-shirt and jeans and said with a smirk, "Who let the grease monkey in."

I shrugged as I really don't give a shit what Weasel thinks and shrugged, "Cabinet maker so more like a saw-dust monkey."

He rolled his eyes and said, "Well, monkey looks right."

William, the homeowner, rolled his eyes then admonished the man, "Brandon. That is enough."

Weasel er Brandon rolled his eyes, "Still a working monkey."

I asked oh so innocently, "And what do you do?"

Brandon said, "I have trusts."

I shrugged, "So you do nothing but take up space and oxygen."

Brittany giggled and Brandon casually backhanded her. It wasn't all that hard, but that was a mistake. William was frozen for a second in shock then was walking toward confronting Brandon. Brandon was about to backhand Brittany again when I did a simple armlock and take-down on Brandon who was now on the floor with me considering removing his arm to beat him to death with it. I don't like men who hit women. The more disturbing part was that Brittany looked more chastened than surprised and shocked at being struck. I was rusty from being out of practice for a couple of years and only the equivalent of a mid-level purple belt in Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, but it was enough to armlock a weasel.

I mocked him, "So the weasel likes hitting girls huh? The monkey wants the weasel to apologize to the woman in the bikini."

He was arrogant for about two seconds, "The name is Brandon and fuck you monk... OWWWWW!"

I really was considering dislocating his shoulder, but William asked, "Please. Just remove him from my home."

I did make him apologize and learned the young woman's name was Brittany, William's twenty-two year old recent college graduate daughter. I'm not sure why Weasel accidentally walked into the door frame from the kitchen head first then did it again on the door frame of the front door. Weasels must be clumsy.

Pro tip: Apply ice to a bruise early to reduce size and duration.

I hope Weasel lives far away so he cannot ice them.

Better pro tip: Don't be an asshole that hits girls.

Brittany held a marketing degree and was looking for work. With a two point four grade point average, she had majored in partying more than anything until her Dad read her the riot act and she got serious after almost failing out during her sophomore year.

She smiled and we flirted and two weeks later, went out for the first time. She had matured a lot since her college party days and even admitted that she had a problem with alcohol until her junior year when she had to choose between partying and succeeding. She grew up and did much better in her final two years, getting mostly B's.

Brittany had made me work a bit, but she did sleep with me a month in. She was very pretty. Her face was not model-beautiful but she was far closer to a model than a dog. Her blonde hair framing that pretty face sure got her noticed. She was fit and trim and had a double D chest with half-dollar-sized areolae. Her vagina was pink, beautiful with medium-sized labia, and made for being licked. I had this trick I learned where I could pull her clitoral hood back and suck on her clitoris to make her eyes roll back in her head if I did it long enough. I did that a lot. Brittany loved her orgasms. Sex was good and it stayed good... until it didn't years later.

We became an item and fell in love. We were together for a year and in November of 2009 I bought a ring and did the whole thing right, even formally asking her father for her hand in marriage. Her father faked it fairly well and did give his blessing. I was successful but not a professional, yet I was a drastic improvement over her previous boyfriends like Weasel. William was wealthy or maybe even rich. He owned an import company near the docks in New Jersey, went to work every day and was not part of the idle rich. William worked and had little patience for those who did not.

I did my marriage proposal in a big but classy fashion with both families present. She had been dropping hints that a ring would be welcome and the answer would be yes, but I faked her out by making her think it was going to be a Christmas gift. I had all the families and her best friends gathered the Saturday before Thanksgiving at her father's house for a pre-holiday dinner where we were going to 'plan the holidays', which to her meant an upcoming proposal at Christmas.

We sat down at dinner and I helped Brittany and did the whole 'pull the chair out for the lady' thing then pulled out a small wooden box I had made from Brazilian Ebony wood with glass inlays I had made from a local glass artist that said 'FOREVER'. She knew what it was but it took a second as my ring box was not the typical box you got from a jewelry store.

She did the thing many women do when getting their ring and put her hand over her mouth in shock but she was nodding yes as she did it. It took a minute to get the official yes answer from her which was followed by her kissing me hard in front of everyone. I put the ring on her finger and it was a done deal. 'FOREVER' was not going to happen, but I made that clear when I started my story.

William liked me to a point but never truly warmed up to me. I dated Brittany anyway because she liked me and her parents never really stood in the way. I was not a rich doctor or lawyer or anything, but I was an improvement over Brandon who was living solely off trusts. Her father had a modicum of respect for me as he owned his business and respected me for also being a business owner. William had no respect for men who did not work for their living who relied solely on trusts and family money.

William did take me aside several times during my courtship with Brittany to thank me for treating her well. He knew we were intimate and did not object when I took her to St. Lucia in the spring of 2010 before we were married. Neither of us were virgins when we met and William knew I was not her first, so had nothing to say when I told everyone about our trip.

I knew Brittany had a boyfriend her first two years in college and she even complained that he had cheated on her her sophomore year which caused them to break up at the end of the year. That coincided with her changing from party girl to student after her father told her he was not going to continue to pay for her to drink and party. If she wanted her degree, she had better shape up. She said her body count was two before me. (I know, double it. At least) I never got any indications that she was a slut in college. She was a drink and dance girl, not a drink and hook-up girl. Yeah, I looked at her social media from the time, and the stories lined up. She undoubtedly fucked her boyfriend and likely quite a few times, but I wasn't a virgin either.

By that point, I was making almost a hundred thousand dollars per year and I am pretty sure William had me investigated with a PI and knew I was anything but poor. In any event, we had fallen in love and I loved Brittany deeply. We had that sickening sweet thing going with finishing each other's sentences and being almost inseparable.

The engagement went smoothly and we married in June of 2010 at her father's country club in Westchester, New York. The wedding went well, and no, my middle-class family did not act like uneducated trash at the wedding. In fact, my mother and Brittany's mother got along like old friends.

I'll spare you too many details of the honeymoon which rocked! Tahiti was awesome! Her father paid for two first-class seats and booked us a private cottage that was directly on, and over the water! We ate, made love and skinny-dipped a bunch of times as the beach area was clothing optional and I loved her all-over tan. Brittany was a bombshell and was sexually insatiable for most of the first seven or so years.

We moved into one of her father's rentals at a greatly reduced rate to save up for a home and did fairly well to work on getting a large down payment for a nicer home. Understand that this is part of the New York City metro area and everything is expensive. The marriage was good until fate intervened, my wife was twenty-nine and I thought gorgeous. We had talked about having kids, but no plans were concrete so we did not have them yet. I guess I could call myself lucky on that one because...

Part 3

Meeting a Norse god on Friday the thirteenth.

Friday, November 13, 2015

Brittany had bounced around from job to job until we were at The New York City Marketing Association Show late in 2015. Brittany was handing out resumes, looking for a better job than her current one working for Orange County Fasteners. She wanted a job doing websites for fashion or architecture, not nuts and bolts. I was there for support and we walked into the booth for The Greater New York Area Real Estate Owners Association. Ty "Norse god' Jensen was a former member of the New York Giants and was manning the booth as a meet and greet.

He was well named 'Norse god' In a room with a hundred men in it, he was the best looking. Six foot four, muscular, handsome, blonde complete with a square jaw and bass voice. The kind of guy who has women lined up to give him anything he wants with no work required. I'm a decent-looking guy with a good income, but I am number thirty in that same room. From the moment I saw him, I knew he wanted Brittany and he did not hide it. He smirked at me then changed his expression and pretended to be charming. He played it cool and talked to her about her resume. He gave her his business card and promised to look at her resume after the show. He looked at me again then disregarded me. No smirk, he knew he could have any woman he wanted and I was no threat.

I thought I had dodged a bullet when he never got back to her and life went on until January of the following year when she got the call from Ty himself to come in for an interview. The holidays and all had delayed things.

Monday, January 11, 2016

Brittany received a call at six that evening. She seemed excited and ended the call then came to me, "I have an interview next week!"

I was happy for her until I wasn't, "Great! Where!?"

"Ty Jensen Properties"

I think I hid it well but it felt like a gut punch to my stomach. I hope as I faked enthusiasm, "Well I hope you get it."

I was lying.

She didn't seem to notice my expression so I think I dodged that fight.

Yay.

Sigh.

She started a week after the interview.

Friday, March 31, 2016

More fucking 'great news'. My mom called and told me my cousin on my mother's side had a baby born with the HR7-BV gene. The more common name for this rare disease was 'Fire nerves'. This caused a baby to be born with the nerve endings exposed and when they were exposed to air, caused a sensation like burning to the poor baby who died of shock less than ten seconds later from an overload of pain. I had to be tested. I kept it quiet, but made arrangements for the following Wednesday. There was only a twenty-five percent chance I carried the gene, but if I had it, there was a seventy-five percent chance the defect would manifest itself if I had a child.

Part 4

I am an April Fool

Saturday, April 1, 2016

I had to finish installing some cabinets down in Alpine, New Jersey and it was the only day the customers were available to okay my work and pay the final bill. I walked into the door to find my wife sitting at the table with a strange expression and saying those infamous words, "We have to talk."

Brittany's tone was ominous and my stomach was immediately in knots.

She asked, "Sit down please. We need to discuss some things."

I vaguely remember sitting down and looking into Brittany's eyes. They were different. Where there once was a tenderness for me, I was looking into cold steel blue eyes. There was no hate, just detachment.

The five-cent version of the bullshit was they fucked in the job interview and never stopped. He did not have to work for it, he fucked her right in the interview because she wanted the fantasy man and just the chance to be with the best-looking guy in town.

She apologized and said she still loved me. I know. Yeah right. Bullshit.

She said we didn't have to divorce. Yeah right.

He only wanted her part-time so we should stay together. Once was too much.

She was going to Bermuda with him the coming weekend for three days. Really? You are leaving for a fuck fest for three days and think I am going to sit home with my dick in my hand?

I got up, fished my keys out of my jeans, and went to my van in the driveway. I have no idea how I made it to the parking lot of The Orange Heritage Trail, but I did. I cried. Not sobbing but she broke me. It was the last time I cried. I had invested every part of myself in our marriage and now my life was gone, in an instant. My future went from a life plan with Brittany to nothing but questions. My heart was crushed and my ego lay at my feet in a million pieces.

When I got home, she tried to hug me, telling me that we could stay together. It was just a part-time thing. I rejected her and packed my things. I made no threats about divorce because it was a foregone conclusion. I could never trust her as she had already cheated, even if she backed out of the weekend. She worked with him and loved her job. I was not going to fight a war that I had no chance to win.

I might be a nice guy. I might be easygoing. I might be a lot of things that the big alphas like Ty laugh at. I am me and I will not change who I am. I just won't. I do not care if you laugh at that.

I am a lot of things. There is one thing I am not.

A fucking idiot.

Friday, April 7, 2016

Brittany got her divorce petition that Friday. No, I did not do it at her workplace. Fucking with your soon-to-be-ex's employment is a great way to pay alimony and the other man was her boss anyway. No, I did not kick her out of our rental. Trying that is the fastest way to get a family court judge to fuck you in the ass and come down on the side of your ex. Her father owned the rental anyway.

Surprisingly I got a call from her father three hours after she was served, "Brian, I want to apologize on behalf of my family. I did not raise my daughter to be a whore!"

I was shocked by his words

He then shocked me more, "I've had the petition looked at and it looks fair, not that they diverge from 50/50 anymore. My apology is this. Give your attorney my name and I will pay the bill as long as it is not outrageous. You shouldn't have to pay for Brittany's stupidity."

He sighed, "Look. I always wanted for her to marry a doctor or something, but she chose you. As far as I can see... and I looked, you maintained your end of the bargain. My foolish daughter has traded you in on vague promises from a known womanizer. Keep it quiet or my offer is void as I do not need more drama in my life. Get this shitstorm over with and sign the final agreement then give your lawyer my name. This call never happened, but I will do my best to make up for my daughter's not keeping her end of the marriage."

I played 'nice' and won, or perhaps lost less than I could have. Everything was split exactly halfway and I even got a bit of a nod from the judge as our eyes met briefly. It was as if to say, 'Well played'. My lawyer told me to keep my mouth shut unless I was asked a question and additionally, he nodded. I answered perhaps a dozen questions with short answers during the whole hearing. Ty paid his whore, my-soon-to-be-ex, almost as much as I made in my business so there was no alimony.

I kept my bargain and so did her father and he paid the bill in full.

Despite my marriage crashing, I had gone to the lab for my appointment that previous Wednesday and received the test results the following Friday, the day Brittany was served her divorce papers as she was packing to leave with Ty. An hour after she left, the mailman came to me with a registered letter with my results. A registered letter told me that it was bad news even before I opened it.

I was a carrier of the gene and any child of mine had a three-quarter chance of having the 'Fire Nerves' birth defect. I was never going to be a father. It was another knife to my heart and ego.

This news was terrible, but not as bad as Brittany's betrayal because I was convinced I would spend my life alone from that day forward. With both things happening at the same time, I only felt hopeless. I considered not getting a vasectomy, but taking that chance was too great a risk should an accident happen. I had no intention of ever dating, but I knew that the future was unknown and the risk was far too high.

Brittany had Ty's love child nine months later and three months after the divorce was final. I had to provide a DNA sample to prove I was not the father and I did. I got a check from her father for the five hundred dollars the test cost me. I never told him about the test, but William sure had eyes everywhere.

Ty fired Brittany for coming after him for child support and naming him the father. He fought like a rabid dog, but a court ordered his DNA test and he was the father. That was a mess and big news about the local former superstar and the local newspaper and website for Orange County sent a reporter to me for my take. I said no comment. I was a mess and hated life, but wanted no part of Brittany or Ty.

I got a text two days after the story and my refusal to comment on my ex having Ty's love child from William's number, 'Thank You.' Two days after that a two hundred fifty dollar gift card arrived for PetSmart for Max. There was no return address on that envelope but I know that William had sent it. It was odd. William was never in my corner but he was never out of my corner during my marriage. After it was wrecked by his daughter, he was a class act in thanking me for not making drama that would affect his family.

Part 4

Crashing and Burning

Saturday, April 8, 2016

I was starting to have a mental breakdown and realized the trauma was overwhelming. I texted my father who sent my mom to pick me up and I moved in with my parents as I could not stand the sight of Brittany nor the pressure of my personal life imploding. God bless my parents. While I wallowed in my pain that weekend, my parents rallied, got some moving help, and moved all my shit out of our place and into their two-car garage as I damn near lost my mind.