A Letter to Isabel

Story Info
A departing letter to a cheating wife.
5.9k words
4.18
113.5k
100
Share this Story

Font Size

Default Font Size

Font Spacing

Default Font Spacing

Font Face

Default Font Face

Reading Theme

Default Theme (White)
You need to Log In or Sign Up to have your customization saved in your Literotica profile.
PUBLIC BETA

Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the "A" icon tab in the Story Info Box.

You can temporarily switch back to a Classic Literotica® experience during our ongoing public Beta testing. Please consider leaving feedback on issues you experience or suggest improvements.

Click here
BlackHeart93
BlackHeart93
1,066 Followers

An Original Story

Dear Isabel --

If you have opened the envelope, then you have found my wedding ring. That may give you an idea of what the enclosed letter is about.

I love you Isabel. I have loved you most of my life. But I am leaving you - forever. In fact, if you are reading this letter for the first time, I have already left.

I have chosen to leave this way because I don't want to go through all the acrimony that will result from the accusations, arguments, bitterness, hurt, anger and recriminations that would certainly come to be if I had stayed. Although this may be a shock to you right now, I think it will be easiest for both of us in the long run.

As you might guess, I know you have been unfaithful to me and to our marriage vows. I have known for many months. I think I have done a pretty good job of hiding my hurt and anger until now. I am quite certain you did not know that I had knowledge of your long-term infidelities.

I could have made this letter very short: Isabel: You have been unfaithful. I am leaving you. Goodbye. However, there are certain details concerning finances, property and our children that have to be made clear. And too, you should probably be made aware of exactly how I discovered that you were fucking [I am going to use a number of expletives in the following paragraphs to help impress upon you how I feel about your actions] another man and how much I know about you and your paramour -- who I am going to call the Asshole throughout the rest of this letter.

An additional reason that this letter is so long is that it gives me the opportunity to describe how deeply you have hurt me and to tell you of the anger -- rage -- that I have been keeping locked up inside my soul. This anger needs to be vented before either of us can move on.

We were both fortunate to have great jobs when we met. I was a young civil engineer four years out of college and had been working my way up in a design and construction firm that had great potential. You were a recent human resource graduate and fortunate enough to get a good job with a prominent public relations company in the same city where I was located. We both met while we were on company business in another city. I think we were charmed with each other after only a few casual conversations and one dinner together. I thought you were the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. (I still think so.) We made plans to see each other after we returned home. Soon we became inseparable. We dated for a year and then became engaged and married soon after that.

Up until eight months ago, I thought we had the idyllic life together. Our children, James and Ana, were the blessings of a lifetime. They grew up to be healthy, happy and well-adjusted adults. We were fortunate too in that they we very intelligent and both are now in the prestigious universities studying for their respective careers.

Our jobs kept both of us on the road and away from each other often. I had construction projects I was overseeing around the state and, later, around the country. Fortunately, I was seldom gone for more than a few days at a time. The travel associated with you job was less often but usually lasted a week. Although we did what we could to makes our trips coincide in order to minimize our time apart, that wasn't always possible. Before one of us left, however, we always had an enhanced love-making night. And we would repeat it when we got back together after a trip.

I thought we were doing so well. After the kids left home, we had more time for ourselves and we took advantage of it. We went on more vacations together. We spent more time making love. I always thought you were so good in bed and you seemed to be satisfied too. When you seemed to have doubts about your sexuality approaching your fortieth birthday, I bought you a negligee that you used on our special nights. I told you how sexy you look even though you were over forty. You seemed to like dressing up for our nights together and even enhanced your sexiness by adding thigh-high hoes and five-inch, fuck-me-now heels to your nighttime attire. I thought you were so hot and I told you so many times. Soon we added other negligees with matching push-up bras and thong panties to your wardrobe. This manner of dress was at odds with your normal mode of bed clothes that consisted of panties and a night shirt.

If you recall about eight months ago, we were nearing the date of our 24th wedding anniversary. I had hoped that we could spend it together but you had an away trip. I asked if you could get out of it but you said that you had already tried and had to go. I was disappointed but I understood. There had been times when I had to go on trips and missed birthdays and other special events. We agreed to have a special day to ourselves after you returned.

As usual, you were scheduled to leave on Sunday. Also, as usual, you packed your suitcase the night before and left it by the front door along with your briefcase. Because I was going to miss you on the day of our anniversary, I decided to surprise you by putting a bottle of your favorite expensive perfume in your suitcase along with a happy anniversary card.

I arose early on Sunday morning while you slept in. After I started the coffee, I picked up your suitcase and opened it. While I was trying to secret the bottle of perfume and the card in the bottom of your luggage, I noticed your black negligee packed underneath all of your other clothes. I immediately thought that was strange since you only wore your sexy bedroom attire for me when we had a special evening planned. As I looked further, I found your matching black bra and thong underwear as well as your black high-heeled shoes.

Within 30 seconds, it hit me and a knot began to form in my gut. The idea that you might be planning to wear these items for someone else struck me like a thunderbolt. I immediately shook off my trepidation and looked for another answer. There wasn't any possible alternate idea as to why you would pack these items except that, for some reason, you might like to prance around in your negligee in your hotel room by yourself - which seemed unlikely.

I sat down and had my coffee while looking at the things I had unpacked. My alternatives were simple: Either confront you before you left or wait to find out for certain that there wasn't some other explanation that was not obvious. I decided on the latter. I desperately hoped to find a non-obvious reason why you packed what you did. So, I repacked your suitcase just as you had it - without the perfume and card - and set it back by the door as if it had never been touched.

I know that if I saw you later that morning before your taxi arrived, I couldn't hide that fact that I was seriously concerned about something. I pulled myself together, went upstairs, took a long shower and dressed. I went to the bed where you were still sleeping and, with an academy award winning act, kissed you and told you that I had to go to the office for a few hours and that I would not be back before you left. I had to get out of the house.

I did go to my office but I didn't do any serious work. A few of my associates were passing in and out but, essentially, I stayed to myself. I didn't want talk to anyone. The company had a complete gym on the premises for the employees' benefit. I wondered into the gym after a while and changed into my gym clothes. I actually had not used the gym in a long time but it gave me something to do. I didn't have a routine so I just experimented with the machines, the weights and the jogging machine. It both gave me time to think and, at the same time, seemed to relieve a little of the stress and anxiety I was feeling.

I reviewed your travel history in my mind. Almost always you left on Sunday early afternoon so you could start your meetings Monday morning and you returned on the following Saturday afternoon. We usually telephoned each other in the early evening when we were apart and talked about how your days went and what the children had done. Thinking about it more deeply, I realized that it was you who always called me in the early evenings and I would not feel the need to call you later in the night. It never occurred to me that you might have had any plans other than to go to bed. But now, I wasn't as certain.

As sure as the sun comes up, you called me Sunday night about 7pm. You said your flight went smoothly, you had a preliminary meeting with some of your associates and you were going to go to bed early in anticipation of an early start on Monday. I didn't believe you entirely.

I did not have a plan of any sort as to how I might find out about any extracurricular activities you might have that evening. I wondered, for instance if you were really going to be in your hotel room that night. I decided to call you later that night. However, I didn't want to call your cell phone and I didn't want you to know it was me necessarily. Instead, I used our home phone to call your hotel at 10pm. I asked the hotel operator to connect me to your room. I let the phone ring exactly ten times and then I hung up without taking the option to leave a message. I called again at midnight with the same results. The hotel phone rang ten times and was not answered. I called at 2am, 4am and 6am. All calls went unanswered.

At seven am, I called you on your cell phone. You answered and I apologized for waking you and I gave you some bullshit reason why I had called. You said that it was okay because you had to wake up anyway and start getting ready for your work day.

The following night I did the same thing. I called from late evening to early morning with no answer from you in your hotel room.

The day before our anniversary, I called the hotel flower shop and ordered a bouquet of flowers for delivery to your room. On the card I included I wrote "Happy 24th Anniversary / I love you". On the back of the card, I instructed the florist to write, "For delivery at 8am." I asked how late they deliver and was told me that within the hotel they deliver up to 10pm at night. I specified that I wanted them delivered to my wife's room exactly at 10pm on the night before our anniversary. If she was not in her room, the flowers were to be left at her door. I called the florist the next morning and they told me that my wife had not answered the door and that the flowers had been left as instructed.

I didn't talk with you again until the evening of our anniversary. You thanked me for the wonderful surprise and told me how much you loved me. You said that the flowers had arrived in the morning before you went down to the lobby for work and that it was a big surprise when you answered the knock on your door at 8am.

It broke my heart to think you were fucking someone on the morning of our anniversary and would probably be doing the same thing that night. The knot in my gut was being pulled tighter and tighter the more I dwelled on these thoughts. I was alone at home and not in a very good mood. I told myself that there is not any conclusive evidence that you were cheating there might yet be an innocent reason for your actions and behavior. I couldn't stand being in the house with nothing to do so I went for a walk, a long walk. Walking seemed to help. Like the exercise I did in the gym, it relieved some of the anxiety I felt. Nevertheless, I was starting to feel the hurt that goes with the knowledge of infidelity of a wife. And with that, came the anger that someone I loved would betray me like that. But I suppressed those emotions at the time because I had no real proof that you had done anything wrong. I was still hoping for a plausible explanation to events. I stopped my overnight telephone calls to your room and just decided to soak up the turmoil that I was feeling inside.

I made a remarkable display of normality when you returned on Saturday. That evening, we went out for a belated anniversary dinner at an expensive restaurant. As we often did when one of us was about to leave on a trip or had just returned from one, we made love that night. I had a feeling that you were slipping away from me and I held onto you extra tight. You even comment that I seemed to miss you much more than normal based on how ardent I was with you in bed. I explained it was because of our anniversary celebration and I felt especially turned on by you.

I had to find out for certain what was happening to us. There is no way I would confront you because, if I was wrong, I would never forgive myself and you might not ever forgive me either. I thought of following you myself but quickly dismissed that idea as impractical because I could never pull it off and I had a demanding job of my own. The obvious alternate solution was to hire a private investigation agency.

I research private investigative services online. I narrowed it down to a few and did further research into reviews by former clients and recommendations by individuals whose opinion I valued. I finally selected a company called Special Investigative Services (SIS). They were especially highly recommended because of their surveillance capabilities and I thought that was the specialty I needed.

Basically, I told my story to the SIS agent assigned to me, a Mr. Smith. Further, I told him that I wanted to find out what my wife was doing while away on her company trips. He outlined their agency capabilities to me and said if I just wanted you followed that is a reasonably simple matter. He told me what the approximate cost of such a surveillance operation would be and, although expensive, I was confident that they could do the job. And I had to know.

Three weeks later you told me about your next company trip. It was to Atlanta, one of the cities in which you regularly hold your events. When I got your hotel and flight information, I passed it on to SIS. I was told that they would have an associate on your flights and they would maintain a room at your hotel for the week. (All of which I eventually paid for.) Further, they cautioned me against making any phone calls to you during the night but to maintain our normal communication protocol. They promised they would have a report for me soon after you returned from your trip.

It was an impossibly difficult week for me. I found that the knot in my stomach was tied so tight that I lost a lot of my appetite. To keep from climbing the walls, I started going to the gym regularly and developed a vigorous workout program. Further, my walks in the evenings became jogs. It all helped - a little.

When you returned the next Saturday, I again acted as though everything was normal. I made love to you that night and again you seemed to think that I was extra ardent and you responded similarly. I thought that our sex life was very good and I couldn't imagine how you might want any more sex than what we had at home. However, I was wrong.

While at work on Monday morning, I received a call on my work phone from SIS. They had a preliminary report ready for me and wanted me to come to their offices. I took a long lunch break at drove to their headquarters. Soon after sitting down with my assigned agent and a Ms. Jones, who was identified as the associated that trailed you to Atlanta and back, he pulled out a paper that he wanted me to read and sign. Basically, it said that SIS has cautioned me against taking any violent actions based on an SIS report that might be distressing to me. I signed it.

Ms. Jones told me matter-of-factly that my suspicions were correct. It did appear as if my wife was having an affair with a man who attends her company events from a different office than hers. Their general routine was to keep to business during the day, sometimes hardly speaking to each other. However, in the evening, the report continued, you would leave your room, often dressed attractively in a cocktail dress or skirt and sweater. You would go outside the hotel where you would meet your gentleman friend. Apparently, the two of you did not want to take the chance that you would be recognized together by any of your company associates since your company had a strong fraternization policy in place. You would most often go to a small, cozy restaurant or lounge for dinner and then go dancing. You would return to the hotel, enter separately and go to your own rooms. Shortly thereafter, you would leave you room with your overnight bag and go the asshole's room where you would stay overnight. You would return to your room about seven in the morning and then prepare for your business day.

On several nights, you did not go out to eat but, rather, had dinner sent to the asshole's room where you again remained until morning.

The SIS associate further reported that while together the two of you seemed very affectionate. You frequently held hands with the asshole and put your arms around each other. You kissed frequently and passionately. Sometimes you petted each other while dancing or while in your secluded lounge booth.

SIS operatives were able to find out who your boyfriend was. His name was Floyd

I sat there stone-faced and emotionless. I had steeled myself for this possibility over the last several months. The chief associate told me how sorry he was to deliver this information to me. He asked me if I wanted him to do anything further. I told him I would think about it and let him know. It didn't take me long to decide that I wanted to know everything.

SIS representatives briefed me on everything they could do for me in the way of surveillance. In addition to just following you and observing your activities outside of your hotel room, they told me they have the ability to provide visual and audio coverage of everything that went on inside of your rooms. I don't know how they could do this and they wouldn't tell me. I suspect that they planted miniature recording devices inside of your rooms while posing as hotel repairmen or, perhaps, they were able to duplicate your hotel key cards and enter when you were away from the hotel.

In addition, they could hack into your computer e-mail account. They could record everything that you sent or was sent to you as well as read all of your back mail. Further, they could monitor and record everything that was said on your cell phone as well as trace all of the phone numbers that you called or had saved in the cell phone memory.

Finally, the SIS rep said that they could use their operatives to gain the confidence of either you or your asshole paramour on a social level and elicit information about your relationship, attitudes and activities.

The cost of SIS services was not inexpensive. It was like buying a new car. However, I had the money and I decided on the package of capabilities that I thought was sufficient to provide me with the information I felt I needed -- both on a personal level and for legal purposes should the need arise.

Again, I was advised not to take any actions on my own that would alert you to the fact that I suspected that you had been unfaithful. At home, I did everything I could to put on an act as if everything was normal. The only thing I did that was different was to make love to you more ardently both because I wanted you to voluntarily give up any extra-marital activities you were engaged in and because I thought that I was going to lose you and I wanted to be especially close to you.

The reason I thought that I might lose you is that the initial reports of your activities stated that you and your asshole boyfriend seemed genuinely affectionate toward one another. The thought crossed my mind that you might really have fallen in love and that you were just waiting for the kids to go off to college before you were going to ask for a divorce.

The knot in my gut continued to grip me like a vice during any waking moment -- except when I was exercising. I started working out at the gym regularly and developed an exercise plan that was very strenuous. I eventually worked up to the point where I could do 50 push-ups without breathing hard. I also worked up to ten pull-ups. My street jogging program turned into half marathons. First, I entered a five-K race and, not long ago, started running 10-K races. My running times were not Olympian but I was pleased with myself.

BlackHeart93
BlackHeart93
1,066 Followers
12