A Marriage in Trouble

Standing, she walked over to the cupboard and retrieved the tickets. She placed them down on the table and slid them across the her husband.

"What are these?"

"Cruise tickets. Twenty-one days cruising the Caribbean. I booked them two months ago. I was saving them as a birthday present for you."

He glanced through the attached brochures. "Very nice."

"Mark, I love you, that was just a small token of how much I adore you. I don't want a divorce. I know this seems painful and weird, but if you work with me, we will find ways for you to forgive me. We could see a therapist together."

"I don't think it would help Liz. I have thought about this continually since I busted you. It's the lack of respect you have for me. I don't think I could ever trust you again. I'll be honest. The fact that dickhead gets away scott free bugs the shit out of me. I promise you this. If I get his name he is going to suffer. I will do everything in my power to fuck him over. He'll wish he never met you."

"I have never disrespected you. I have never lost respect for you."

"You disrespected me the moment his cock slid into your slutty hole."

"Damn it, Mark. There's no need for the disgusting obscenities. We were having a rational discussion."

"Sorry you can't see my point Liz. You did disrespect me. You gave away something you promised me was mine and mine alone."

"We never made any such promises. Our vows never included any such words. I broke no promise to you. For twenty-three years I was a faithful wife. Never strayed. Never even so much as looked at another man. Even after the affair, I broke no promise.

"Okay, we may not have said the words exactly, but the sentiment was there. You just said so. You said you were faithful for twenty-three years. You forgot to mention you were unfaithful for two."

He slid the envelope across the table. "You should read the terms, because I'm serious. I do want a divorce. If you and I can agree on the terms of the property split, we won't need to go to court. It will save us thousands. As you know, this is a no-fault state. You can't stop the divorce, but you could make it expensive for both of us."

"So that's it. After everything we've been through. You throw it all away?" She didn't even attempt to hide her disgust.

"I didn't have the affair, Liz. That was all down to you. Your selfish actions caused this."

"No, the divorce is all yours, Mark. There are alternatives."

"None that appeal to me. Sitting in some therapist's office spilling our guts out. No, I don't see that as an alternative."

"We could live together here, just the two of us. Give it time see if we could make it work. Don't you see this is all just a knee-jerk reaction. You're angry. If you gave us time, allowed some love back in, it would push aside the anger and you would think more clearly."

"Give you a chance to fuck some love back into me. No, as pleasant as that sounds, I still couldn't trust you. Every time you walk out that damn door I would be wondering where you were going. Who you were with. I don't want to live my life like that."

She opened the envelope and started to read. "Oh my god. You don't want the house?"

"No, too many good memories. Now, too many bad ones. I need a fresh start."

"Well I love this house. It's been our home, we raised our children here. I'm not selling," Liz replied.

"Then you better get down to the bank and organize a mortgage."

"You haven't listed any furniture?" she said incredulously.

"No, if you're staying. It's all yours."

She read through the financial split. She earned far more than he did, but Mark decided she should keep her 401, and he'd keep his.

She sighed, sipped her wine, swirled the red liquid around the glass. "It all seems very fair."

"Six months, and we will be no more. If you agree with the financial split, we could go to the bank tomorrow and split everything. I'll need money to find an apartment."

"You're moving out now?"

"Yeah, I've already started. My wardrobe is empty, my drawers are empty. Everything's packed in the garage."

She shook her head in utter disbelief. "You're not even going to give us a chance, are you?"

"No, I can't run that risk. I still love you, Liz. I always will. You carved off such a huge chunk of my heart I'm not sure there's enough left for anyone else. If I stay, even for a month, you will weave your magic. I know that because part of me wants that. I fucking love you so much. I can't believe you so callously cut me out of your heart."

"I never cut you out, sweetheart." She rushed around the table and climbed onto his knee. "I never ever cut you out. I built you up. I tell everybody what a wonderful man you are. I love you, and I don't want to lose you. It hurts that you want to throw me away."

Grabbing his head in both hands she kissed him, their combined tears melded together as their tongues wrestled passionately. The fire grew so quickly they were soon in bed. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he drove into her with a hunger he didn't know he possessed.

Her cries of "yes, yes, don't stop," urged him on. Her orgasm was so close she had to cling to him, her crimson nails digging into his soft flesh.

Their combined orgasm was like a tush of searing emotions. It left them both gasping for breath.

"Oh my god, Mark. That was so intense. Oh hell, I'm still tingling." She rolled over towards him as he lay on his back, staring at the ceiling.

"That was amazing. Thank you." She purred like the cat that got the milk. As she peered into his eyes, she became really nervous. They looked empty, vacant. She kissed his mouth, his cheeks, his nose. As her lops slithered over his, she sucked his tongue into her mouth, scared to let it escape.

Her hands roamed over his body, dallying on his still throbbing erection. She kissed her way down his chest, her tongue swirling around his proud nipples, lower, prodding his little tummy button. Then her senses overloaded. Her own aroma and taste coated his pulsating cock as she sucked it into her mouth.

She slavered over it, enjoying their combined juices, the flavors of their lovemaking. Needing no encouragement, she swung her leg over his stomach and impaled herself on his rampant erection.

Leaning down, he opened his mouth, welcoming her kiss. Then her ride to joyous oblivion began in earnest. Back and forth, up and down, round and round her hips swirled. She ground down hard maximizing contact with her clit.

Mark reached up, enjoying the soft yet firm flesh of her cute little titties, the nipples hard and erect.

With all the conflicting swirling emotions, Liz was overcome with images of their lives. Her body reacted to the new neurological inputs. She moved her hips, the feel of his cock pushing up into her gooey center moved them both into overdrive. It was fast, then slow. Ragged and energetic. The crescendo took them both by surprise.

In their own worlds, they rushed headlong towards the explosions that were going to be impossible to stop.

They both lay in the dark struggling to breathe. "Jesus Christ," Mark gasped.

"I know, right? God, that was beyond incredible," Liz said breathlessly.

There was no way to stay awake after that. They cuddled together, letting the darkness take them. The morning found Liz snuggling as close as she could, her head resting on Mark's chest.

These were the moments she lived for: waking staring up at his face. He really was a good-looking man. Several of her closest friends had confessed they thought Liz was a lucky woman, and she agreed. He was everything she had wanted in a husband.

Letting her hands wander over his firm chest, she sighed, her memory going back to that horrible year. God it was awful. She fell into that depressive dark hole and could find no way out. She had a wonderful life, but still, she couldn't shake the thoughts that plagued her. She missed her daughters. They weren't just daughters, they were best friends and they had been so close.

She phoned them several times a day. The girls recognized her dark state and tried to include her in things, but she smothered them and they slowly pulled back.

Liz was a psychologist, and acknowledged the obsessive behavior. For the first time in her life she felt alone. How the hell could she explain her feelings of loneliness to her husband?

Her friends tried, but it didn't matter what, or how often, they said to her she just needed to get out and start enjoying life, that she was being silly; all that did was pile up words on top of words and those words pushed her deeper into the darkness.

How many times did she catch herself running Mark's razor across her arms, sometimes drawing blood. She wanted to feel the pain, awaken her. She could feel the insanity of her actions.

Then came Damon. Why did his words mean something? Why was he able to lift her up when nobody else could? There was no real answer, but he did. The flirting, the flattery, the compliments.

The lunches were fun, but that first kiss... Oh god, she felt so guilty. She pulled away, told him it must never happen again. But it did, and soon they were having sex. That's when the shame really settled over her.

How had she let it happen? She wasn't some stupid young girl. She wasn't a slut... Was she?

But the attraction grew stronger, and Damon was so much fun to be around. The gloom that her life had become lifted miraculously.

She felt so bad about cheating on Mark; she made herself a promise to be the best wife any man could ever wish for. She convinced herself the affair meant nothing. It was separate from her marriage. It took nothing away from Mark. So long as he never found out, there would be no harm.

Mark roused from his slumber. He saw Liz staring into his eyes as he blinked. "Hey, sexy," she whispered, leaning down for a kiss, their mouths sliding together, their tongues curling and playing.

Her hand caressed and stroked his erection. She felt it growing and strengthening. "Are we going to start the day in style?" she cooed.

His fingers were soon deep inside her pulpy pussy, her juices coating his hand as he played with her sex.

"Don't tease me, babe," she purred. "I need you."

Rolling her onto her back, he clambered between her legs and the lovemaking was as intense as the previous night. Talk about having your breath taken away. Mark was more than breathless.

They showered together, and as they cooked and ate breakfast together, they talked. "Mark, I love you, I screwed up, and hurt you. I will be forever sorry for that. I never intended to hurt you. I hate that I made you feel so bad."

As they finished eating, she said, "Can you see the love is still there? I felt it last night, and this morning. The emotions were raw and real. I know you love me, I can feel it. This is how we could be for the rest of our lives."

"If only it was that easy, Liz. You're right, last night was amazing and this morning wasn't bad either. I'm just not sure I can forget and forgive."

"Could we try, please, Mark? I'm begging," she pleaded. "What do we have to lose?"

When she saw the hesitation, she got a brain wave. "Can I make a suggestion?"

"I'm listening," he replied.

"All right, you were pretty angry and filed those damn divorce papers. What if I agreed to sign them, but you held onto them. We try to try and find ourselves again. Try and save our marriage, which is far to good to just flush away."

"You'll sign them?"

"Yes, so long as you agree to hold onto them. If we can't make it work. If I can't prove to you that it is working, then I will help you complete the divorce."

Mark still wasn't convinced, but said he would consider it. Liz went off to work, and Mark spent the day thinking. By the end of the day, his head hurt.

That night was a repeat of the previous. The weekend was a great one. They went cycling, went out to dinner. Liz was on fire. She could see the changes in Mark. The anger faded and the real Mark shone through.

Mark felt it as well; he was starting to think he might be able to let go... It was just his trust issues. He couldn't stop wondering what Liz was up to. Was she seeing the dickhead?

Apart from his insecurities, things were getting back to the way they were. The only thing sticking in Mark's craw was dickhead. He was going to get away without suffering any consequences. That just wasn't right. His problem was he had no way of finding out who he was.

That changed, when he was playing golf with some buddies. He was at the bar buying the first beers, when a guy came over and patted him on the back. "Mark Webster?"

He turned to see a burly guy staring back at him. "Can I help you?"

"I was thinking I might be able to help you. My names Ray, I'm a security guard at The Grand."

The realization dawned on Mark. He reached out to shake Ray's hand. "Let me drop these drinks off with my buddies and I'll come back."

Back at the bar, he brought Ray a drink, and asked, "Why did you come over?"

"I was there the day you busted your wife cheating. I wanted to help you, but man, I need that job. The way they treated you was real bad. How are things going for you?"

"We're trying to fix things, but she won't tell me the bastard's name. I want him to suffer. He's a dirt bag, and needs to feel some pain."

"Do you want his name?"

"Oh, hell yeah."

"Okay, give me a few days. I'll see what I can do."

They shook hands again, and Mark slipped Ray his business card. "If you need money, I'm happy to make it worth your while. I don't expect you to get yourself in trouble."

Ray laughed, before saying, "I wouldn't say no to some cash. My wife's about to have our first baby. But I'm not asking."

It took the best part of a week, and it cost Mark a grand, but he had the dickhead's name and phone number from his registration form. Ray did great and Mark was happy to pay.

Now Mark needed to figure out how he would use the information. He wanted to hear his voice, that was first. Using a downtown phone booth, He dialed his number. "Hello, Damon Wright speaking. How can I help you?"

He wanted to say. "I'm coming for you, asshole," but settled for "Sorry, wrong number." Hearing his voice fueled Mark's anger. It had been waning recently, because everything had been going so well between himself and Liz. Now that he had something tangible, it came back with real force.

It only took a three days before Mark had everything he needed. He had decided the punishment should fit the crime. He tried to destroy his and Liz's marriage. He would repay that favor.

Sitting at his desk at work, he made the call. The phone buzzed for several seconds before the voice answered. "Hi, this is Kristi."

"Hey, Kristi. You don't know me. My name is Mark Webster. I'm calling to inform you that your husband, Damon Wright, has been having a sexual affair with my wife for the last two years."

The phone went silent for several long moments. "What did you say?"

"Kristi, I'm sorry for calling you like this, but I think you need to know what sort of asshole you're married to."

"This is a joke right, who is this? Is it you, Ron?"

"No, this is Mark Webster. If you hang up and hit redial, it will call my office. I am just arming you with information. What you choose to do with it is your business."

"I don't believe you. We're about to have our second child."

"I am sorry," he said. "I can email you the photographs from the hotel register if that helps?"

"Yes, send them to me. What did you say your wife's name is?"

"Her name is Liz Webster. The email will also have photographic evidence. The hotel has CCTV, and it captures all registrations."

"Oh my god, you're actually serious?"

"I'm afraid so."

"Why are you doing this, Mark?"

"I consider it payback. He did his best to destroy my marriage. I figured it was only fair that I repay that debt. As I say, I'll email you all the evidence I have. My wife already confessed. They met about two days a month for the last two years."

"Is it over?" she asked tremulously.

"Liz has assured me they are no longer seeing each other, but I'm not sure I trust her."

"Are you guys trying to work it out?"

"Yes. Sounds stupid, and I feel terrible about it, but the simple answer is yes."

There was more; she asked every question Mark had asked. The tears started and just kept on coming. When I disconnected the call, she was in hysterics.

I was late home that night, and dinner was already on the table. Liz met me with a passionate kiss. The feel of her hot body pressed against me aroused me as it always had. She was quick to stop the kiss. "Dinner will be ruined if we don't stop now."

We talked about our days; she obviously couldn't divulge too much information about her patients, but she released enough so that I understood. I explained my day, leaving out the phone call to Mrs. Wright. It was pleasant,

It was the next night when it all turned to shit. I was helping Liz prepare dinner when the house phone rang. Liz answered it, and I saw her face go completely white, her hand came up to cover her mouth and she stared emptily at me as she just listened.

I watched as it happened in slow motion. She fell back against the wall and slid to the floor, her eyes full of tears, which quickly grew into hysterics as she repeatedly sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Oh my god... I'm so sorry. We never meant to hurt anybody."

Then the phone fell from her grasp and her knees came up to her chin, her hands covering her face as she wailed painfully. I went and sat beside her, my arm circling her shoulder. "It'll be okay, just breathe."

It took nearly an hour before the tears subsided enough for her to speak. She pushed me away, her eyes boring into mine. "You malicious bastard. Why did you do that Mark, why?"

"Liz, I told you I was going to get him. He tried to destroy my marriage. Well, let's see how he likes a taste of the same medicine."

She swung a short sharp punch to my shoulder. "I cannot believe you could be so spiteful, so out-and-out hateful. Nobody was trying to destroy anything. He wasn't trying to break up our marriage. Christ, Mark. She's pregnant. They're having their second child."

"None of my concern. It's just destiny. You know the old saying: 'He who lives by the sword dies by the sword.' It's karma if you like."

She stood up, wiping her eyes furiously. "No, Mark, this was some pitiful attempt at vengeance. A repugnant hateful crime. You may have ruined their marriage."

"As I said Liz, he destroyed ours," Mark hissed angrily.

"No Mark, you destroyed ours. You didn't have to do that. Everything has been going so well for us. I can't believe you could do something so cruel. What has that poor woman ever done to you?"

"Nothing, Just like I did nothing to dickhead. That was his choice to fuck another man's wife. Once he chose that path, well, all gloves are off. He got what he deserved."

"No, Mark, this is cruel, a nasty vicious attack on a poor innocent woman. If you wanted revenge, why didn't you just take it out on him?"

"The punishment fits the crime."

She shook her head in bewilderment. "We have been doing so well. I felt like we were finding ourselves again. Then you do this. Haven't you felt like we were really making progress?"

"Maybe, but I don't trust you. That's the problem. Every day you go to work I wonder where you're going. Are you seeing him again? On the weekends, you say you're going to meet up with friends, and I wonder... Are you really. I can't help it. That's just the way I feel," Mark spat out.

"Why didn't you say something. We could have seen a therapist."

"No, not for me," he snapped. "I couldn't think of anything worse. Airing our dirty laundry in front of somebody else..."

She paced around the living room like an angry lion, her eyes catching his occasionally. The look of pure disbelief, or was it disgust? Mark wasn't sure. but the evil eye she gave him made Mark very uncomfortable.