A Wife's Fall Pt. 04

The fruits of my plan bore its harvest a little over a month after my parent's visit. It was my day off; by then, I worked all the overtime I could to squirrel away money for when the baby was born. I was in the middle of painting the baby's room a soft blue; I just had a hunch, when there came a pounding on my front door. I was not surprised to see my sister standing there when I opened the door, mad as Hell. I sometimes wonder if I'm losing out on what enjoyment feels like when my sister glared angrily at me as I just stood there. I have been avoiding her calls; I know Betty sometimes talks to her, she informs me when Maggie does.

"Really! I had to hear it from Mom?!" Maggie screamed at me as she stood on my porch.

"Hear what?" I asked, playing dumb. It seemed Maggie did not like that response. This would have been so much fun if I could feel something as I recounted that day.

"Don't you fucking play dumb, Wane! You know damn well what I mean!" I looked down as my sister poked me in my chest. Like I said, she's emotional, hence why she's a sociopath and I am not.

"Do I?" I asked with a cocked eyebrow. It seems my sister was not amused as she crossed her arms in a huff.

"You going to let me in or what?"

"Hadn't thought about it; the last time you were here, you pulled some shit in my own goddamn house. So you'll forgive me if I'm apprehensive about letting you in," I stated in a calm tone; I am very calm, maybe too calm for some people. She actually appeared hurt when I said that. I wondered if sociopaths could feel hurt. I'll have to look that up.

"Wane, please, you know why I did that. Come on, you can't just leave me out here?!"

"Actually, I can, and I will," I stated, slowly inching the door closed. Only to feel her hand striking the front of the door, stopping me. "Yes?" I mused as I opened the door once again. "Is there something else I can help you with?" I asked; I was being an ass. I know I didn't care.

"Don't get smart with me, Wane! Suppose you think I don't know about your little secret, you'd be wrong. In that case, I'm sure you don't want me out here mouthing off to anyone and everyone that will listen about how you had a hand in those two murders a few months back, now do you? I'm sure that big titty bitch will just be dying to know about it." I wondered if she thought threats actually worked on me.

"It'll be your word against mine; all they'll see is a disgruntled sister shut out of her brother's life while I am a respected blood splatter analyst who has worked in the department for the past four years. So go ahead, let's see who they believe," I taunted, throwing her words back at her. I really wish I could take enjoyment out of what had transpired that day. Alas, I cannot, so you'll just have to live it for me. I could see how that irked her just as I thought it would.

"Wane," I watched as she took a deep breath, "please let me in; I did say I was sorry. I just had to know, okay?! You know how I am. You are a very rare man with your condition. I had to know if it was real or not. Are you really going to keep me away forever?"

"I'm thinking about it," I admitted.

"What do I have to do to make it up to you?" I felt a devious smile forming on my lips, knowing my sister was not going to enjoy this.

"Go out in the front yard, take off your shirt, twirl it over your head, repeating this phrase, I'm a pushy little bitch three times as you hop on one foot in a circular motion. If you do that, I might let you in." I do not think my sister was expecting me to say that as her jaw dropped.

"You can't be fucking serious?!"

"As you well know, I'm very matter-of-fact in what I say."

"There is no way I am showing off my tits to the whole damn neighborhood!"

"Interesting. You're more worried about your tits being on display than appearing as a fool given your so-called acclaimed status as a doctor," I uttered, putting the word doctor in air quotes.

"Ugh! It's like talking to a brick wall!"

"I'll take that as you've had many sessions with a few of them?"

"Wane, please, I'm tired; I drove all this way, please, show me some mercy here?!"

"If you're a doctor as you say you are, then you would know mercy isn't in my makeup," I stated, watching my sister hang her head. "Why did you come anyway? No one invited you? Do you make it a habit of showing up at people's doors uninvited?"

"I came to see the baby, as well as you and Betty."

"You're like seven months too early for that; I would have thought a doctor would know that," I mused, tapping my chin.

"Wane, don't make me have to pull out the big guns." I heard the warning in the tone of her voice, which would mean my parents.

"Fine, you big ol' whiner, if you're going to be like that, you might as well come in," I said, stepping to the side.

After that, well, I put my sister to work painting the baby's room. If she thought she would sit on her ass after showing up uninvited, she was dead wrong. As the months passed and our baby grew inside of her, we did still see a marriage counselor. Just because we were having a baby did not mean our troubles were over. Sure, they were progressing, but I still had trouble trusting Betty. I suspected she picked up on it. I don't know how that woman can read me so well, but she can, which is odd, given that my own parents cannot. However, I wasn't about to go looking into it. In reality, I had far more important things to worry about than that at the moment.

Somehow the picture of Betty's ultrasound found its way to her parents. In the middle of Betty's sixth month of her pregnancy, we received some very curious visitors to our house. I was putting together the baby changing table that we had picked up from Ikea. I have to admit I do not know how normal people put together something from them and not lose their shit. I know Betty was so frustrated with the instructions that she gave up on it. I couldn't blame her; they might as well be hieroglyphs for all the good that booklet was. When I walked into the front room of the house when she called for me. I was not expecting to see Betty's parents kneeling on my porch with their hands folded as if in prayer. Begging me to forgive them for what they had done. I glanced at Betty, wondering if they knew that was impossible for me. I can still feel their lip imprints on my ass to this day, as disturbing as that sounds.

As the day that our son was to arrive drew close. I asked my Captain if I could stay at the precinct just in case I got the call that Betty was on her way to the hospital. My Captain was very understanding, even if that meant I had to do some extra work to cover those that covered for me out in the field. I didn't mind. Betty was my sole focus. I would rather be there than at some crime scene, possibly an hour from the hospital. I was not going to let my wife go through the birth of our child alone. I'm sure you're wondering what happened to Holly during all of this. She transferred to the State police department. I heard a rumor it was because her husband found out about her extra-marital affairs, and she had to skip town to save face. I know Betty was overjoyed when I told her about it. I did hear Betty mutter: take that, you fucking bitch! Wane will always be mine! When she walked into the kitchen to refill her glass. So when the day came, as much as I don't like Celine, I was happy if a man like me could be happy that she was with Betty at the time when her water broke. I didn't hesitate; I grabbed my gear and bolted for the elevator. I heard my Captain's encouraging words trailing after me.

Our son, Conner, was born at seven o'clock the next morning after eighteen hours of labor. He had Betty's hair color and my eyes; I wonder if my son inherited other traits of mine. He is a very quiet baby, maybe too quiet when the others around him were crying; it didn't seem to affect him, or was that because Conner couldn't hear them, to begin with? I couldn't answer that at the moment. However, I will be on the lookout if he does inherit my disorder. I wasn't about to let my son be chased down like a dog the way other psychopaths were. If I could survive in this world, so could my son. Although, I did hope that Conner was only deaf and not like me. It would make his life a whole lot easier. Not that I wished my son was deaf, I just knew from experience going through this life with what I have would not be easy on him if it turns out to be true. Looking down as Jan, now at the age of eight, slid her hand into mine as we gazed into the nursery.

*****

~~~Betty~~~

Four years have passed since the birth of our son, Conner. I know Wane was very worried about Conner's lack of auditory stimuli when he was younger. So we had him tested. I was heartbroken when I held our baby, who was a toddler at the time, in my arms as the doctor gave us the news. Our baby, our sweet Conner, had acute hearing loss. If it wasn't for Wane and that detached mind of his, I would have broken down in a fit of sobbing. While Conner would be able to hear with the use of hearing aids, which we did get for him, I did find Wane hunkered down at the computer doing something with his hands.

One day when Conner was two and Wane had the day off. I found my husband and our son on the living room floor. Conner's laughter filled the air. I do love the sound of my son's laughter; it's just so infectious. My eyes widened when I recognized my son's hand gestures when he was speaking with his father. I wondered why he wasn't talking. I knew he could; we have taught Conner how to speak vocally. I could see Conner was wearing his hearing aid. Yet, the two of them chose to speak in sign language. I wondered just when Wane learned how to sign and when he taught our son?! Also, why he didn't include me! Oh, I will fix that soon enough, I assure you. So that night after I had put Conner down for the night I demanded Wane teach me sign language. It wasn't fair that the two of them could converse like that and leave me out! I wanted to be that close with our baby as well!

It did take a while for me to get the hang of sign language. Yet, I was determined to master it. It had also taken two years for me to win Wane's trust back. It was a very hard long road. One that I was not about to travel down ever again. However, the day I did, I had woken up; Wane had already been up, given that I could hear him feeding Conner. I looked over to where I have always placed the necklace that held Wane's wedding ring, the 'Scarlet letter' of my fall. Only to find that gold band missing from the chain. I franticly looked around for it, thinking it somehow fell off when I took it off last night. Once my mind cleared enough from its fright at the thought of losing his wedding band, I realized the clasp of the chain was secured to the other end like I had left it the night before. Then the realization hit me, I didn't care if I was only in a bra and panties. I raced out of our bedroom and barreled into my husband. Madly kissing him all over, lavishing that finger with my sweet kisses when I saw it adorning Wane's finger. I slapped Wane's chest when Wane gave our son the sign that I've gone loco.

I knew Wane also worried that our son had inherited his disorder. I don't know if it's too early to test Conner for it yet. Nevertheless, I have seen Conner displaying a wide range of emotions that I know my husband had trouble comprehending. I knew that was a relief to him.

Now, as Wane and I celebrate our eighth wedding anniversary surrounded by the people who have come into our lives. Made each one of us a better person, except for Wane; he was the exception. I can't help but marvel at how easily this could have all gone to shit. That I could be some divorced woman, spending her night out trying to find the connection I had destroyed if it wasn't for my husband. It was through him that I was able to rise from the ashes of my folly. It was through him that I got another chance to be the wife Wane deserved. I still can't believe how foolish I had been then, seeking something when I already had the best that this life could offer me. Leaning over, placing a kiss on top of Conner's head, praying that he would never have to experience what I had put his father and our marriage through. I felt a hand on my swollen stomach. Yes, I am pregnant again, and no, it isn't someone else's child. Placing my hand over Wane's, knowing that our daughter would be born in a little over four months. The only man I am a slut for is Wane; no matter how kinky, how depraved it is, I will never deny my husband as long as it doesn't harm our baby.

Now I leave with this message and warning before I return my attention to the guests who had traveled from so far away to attend this party of ours. If you are thinking of cheating, either you be a man or woman, ask yourself. What if it was your spouse about to do what you're about to do? What if you go through with it? What happens when you're caught like I was? Can you handle the hurt, the grief, the sneers, the repercussions of what you're about to do? Do you wish to be divorced and lose everything you worked so hard for? Because you will be found out in the end, they might not be able to overlook what you have done. They might not even give you that option; they may, like my husband has constantly seen at his job, murder you and leave you in your own pool of blood. Sure, it might be fun while in the middle of the act, but afterward, you are no better than my parents. I might have fallen, but I strived to repent for my sins. Can you say the same thing?

"Uncle Wane, come dance with me." I gazed up from my husband's hand as my now twelve-year-old niece spoke. As I watched Jan leading Wane through the crowd, I knew there was no place I would rather be.

The End.