An Emotional Affair

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She claimed it was only platonic.
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Farmers_Son
Farmers_Son
1,781 Followers

There is no sex in this story. For all you RAAC and BTB lovers you will be disappointed. Please go read another story if that is your expectations from this story.

*

I was trying to wake up but I was struggling. There were strange noises assaulting my ears as I tried to open my eyes and see what was happening to me. There were also strange odors present. I had no idea where I was.

Included in the strange noises were soft voices. They were hard to pick out. I heard just snippets of the conversation. There seemed to be at least two voices, both female. One seemed to be accusing the other but the whole conversation was kept quiet and I could only make out a few words at a time.

". . .if he wakes up you know he is going to be pissed at you."

"No, I just have to explain."

"I know him. He won't forgive this. Look at what he tried to do."

One female started to cry. The voice was familiar but she kept her voice so low I couldn't be certain of who it was.

I tried to raise my arms but my hands were tied down. My throat was sore as hell and I could hardly swallow. I tried to make some noise but no one heard me if I did make some noise.

I moved my legs. Thank goodness they weren't tied down. Somehow I got the impression that I was in a hospital bed and in a hospital room. I don't know why, though.

I finally forced my eyes open. I was flat on my back with the ceiling tiles above me. I tried to move my head but something was pulling on my lips.

Suddenly a nurse appeared in my field of vision. She smiled and told me that she was glad to see me awake. The other voices stopped and then my wife, Melissa, was leaning over me and telling me how much she loved me and how scared she had been for me.

Now, I am not the sharpest tool in the tool box. I am just smart enough to know that one thing, that I am not the smartest person you will ever meet.

I remembered that my name is Wade Carlson and my wife is Melissa Carlson. We live in a great little community where everyone seems to know each other's business. I think I am forty-three years old but I am kind of fuzzy on that. I remember my birthday, August 8th and the year I was born.

I looked at Melissa. She had been crying. Her mascara was running down her face. I thought she still looked pretty good. I remember she is a year older than me. We have three kids. Scratch that, I have two daughters from a previous marriage and Melissa has a son from her previous mistake of a marriage.

Her husband had been a drunk and an abuser and she had finally tossed him out after ten years. I remember she had been only twenty when she married the first time.

My ex-wife was a cheating slut, pure and simple. Hell, she probably cheated on me on our honeymoon. I know that she was not even trying to hide her lovers from me. I suppose it was because she knew I wasn't smart enough to figure out that she was cheating on me. My own daughter, Cindy, told me that she had come home early and found Wendy getting fucked on our living room floor. Wendy had tried to tell me that she wouldn't do it again but somehow I decided she was lying so I divorced her. She even gave the kids to me to raise. I suppose she wanted the freedom to have sex with whomever she pleased and didn't want to have to worry about the girls while she was doing it.

She also got hooked on drugs and booze and ended up in rehab multiple times. The last time I had any contact with her she seemed to have finally gotten control of her life.

The only problem was that I couldn't remember how long ago that was. What had happened to me? Was I involved in some kind of accident?

I looked over and the other female was now in my view. It was my wife's best friend, Helen. "Hello, Wade. Welcome back to the land of the living."

The nurse must have made a phone call as a man in a white coat was soon standing by the bed. "Hello, Mr. Carlson, welcome back. I am sure you are confused about what the hell is going on here."

I nodded, as well as I could. There was something in my mouth and I couldn't talk. It was starting to irritate me a lot.

"Mr. Carlson, we have a tube in your throat so that we could breathe for you while you were unconscious. I think that you are awake enough to remove the tube and let you breathe on your own. I have to warn you though that you may not be able to speak for a bit. The damage to your throat was not permanent but you need to stay quiet and rest a lot."

With that comment he did something to the side of the tube and then told be to breathe out as hard as I could. While I did this he slid the tube out of my throat and my mouth. I almost forgot and tried to immediately thank him but he told me to stay quiet.

My hands were released and a marker board was provided so I could ask questions. My first one was, "What happened?"

Melissa started crying again. The doctor didn't respond so finally Helen started to explain. "It is now, Wednesday, the twenty-third of July. Last Friday night you and Melissa went out for supper. Something happened either at supper or just when you got home because you went out behind the house and tried to hang yourself. If Melissa had not been following you and trying to talk to you, you might have succeeded. She held your body up until the paramedics and the fire department could get there and cut you down. You have been sedated since then to let yourself heal."

I was flabbergasted. I tried to talk but my voice was so scratchy that I couldn't even understand myself. I think everyone understood me and started to assure me that indeed this tale was true. I had no recollection of anything.

Melissa held my hand and tried to tell me how much she loved me. Helen looked sad. The doctor looked embarrassed and the nurse fluffed my pillow and got me something soothing to drink. I used the marker board to thank her.

The doctor told me. "Mr. Carlson, I don't want you up or even trying to get up. We will raise the head of the bed but I am ordering you some sedation to help you rest tonight. Tomorrow we will start with liquids such as broth and see how your throat is doing. Is that okay?"

Wow, he asked for my opinion. I just nodded. Soon a euphoric feeling was overcoming me and I was slipping into darkness again. I thought I heard Melissa say something to Helen just as I slipped under. "Thank goodness he will rest now. I have to go and tend to Jimmy. Are you staying long?"

I didn't hear Helen's reply. I fell asleep wondering about this Jimmy person. I could remember Melissa's son's name was Tim Ryan. And her father's name was Bob Players. Who was Jimmy? I felt I knew him and somehow I didn't like him.

When I woke the next morning I was a little groggy. I suppose it was from the sedative that they had given to me. My hands were untied now and I could move a little but when I tried to change position in bed and slide up a little an alarm went off. The nurse was suddenly in my room with me and she cautioned me to not try to get up. I couldn't protest as my throat was screaming in pain. It must have shown on my face as she immediately went and grabbed some kind of medication and gave it to me. The screaming pain subsided to a constant ache.

After a few sips of beef broth I was visited by physical therapy, where they made me do all sorts of stretching exercises in bed. Then some girl who looked about fifteen came in an announced she was a speech therapist and she worked with me to try and make my throat better. It hurt like hell.

After that was an occupational therapist, whatever that is. I thought she did the same thing the regular physical therapist did.

Another meal of broth was my noon meal. I couldn't call it a lunch as it was just broth. I managed to squeak out a few words after that meal.

Then came the head doctor. I mean the mental kind. I can't spell his title so I won't even try. He sat down and started asking questions about how I felt and I had to write answers for him.

Of course he wanted to know why I had tried to harm myself. I had to tell him I had no idea. Suicide was not in me. I couldn't imagine why I would feel I should try to off myself.

He then asked me about my growing up. There I think I have a good memory. I know I was not the average body type. I now stand about five foot nine inches with long thin legs. My body is kind of short. My waist is 30 inches but my inseam is 34 inches. Kind of hard to fit me. Most jeans feel kind of baggy. Melissa always tells me I have no butt. I struggled to get "C" and "D's" in school. Don't even ask me what that means for a GPA. I could never figure that out. I graduated high school but college was out of the question both due to my lack of smarts and the fact that my brother is under heavy medication and my mother is just plain crazy. There was never enough money for the regular bills let alone school. I got a job as a day laborer and made sure all the money went to help mom and my brother. Somehow I got introduced to Wendy, my first wife. She is a lot smarter than me but I always seemed to make more money somehow. Anyhow we had two girls, Cindy and Buffy. When Wendy and I broke up the girls were not in school yet. Now Cindy is sixteen and is rebelling a little as Melissa and I make sure that they toe the mark. Cindy is very resentful. Buffy is thirteen now and just goes along with Cindy as she adores her sister.

Melissa's boy, Tim, is twenty-two and out of the house.

I told the doctor that I remember that Cindy snuck away from the house and took Buffy to Wendy's house. It was within the last year if I remember right. Things are still fuzzy at times. Cindy wanted to drop out of school and get pregnant and figured her mother would allow it so she filed charges against me for child abuse. It wasn't true but Melissa and I went through some hell for a while.

Melissa's mom passed away last year and between the sudden emptiness of the house and the loss of her mom she has been depressed, I guess. I mean, the house is still ultra clean and she makes most of the meals but she is sad all the time and the dog isn't a good substitute.

I was getting pretty tired so the doctor let me rest. I had another round of physical therapy followed by speech therapy and occupational therapy after eating some Jello. I used to like Jello but their Jello was tasteless.

In the afternoon Melissa came back in and sat and talked to me. She is the type of person who could talk all day and you would never get tired of hearing her speak. I am normally very quiet as I don't have much to say. I don't do politics as they all seem like crooks to me. I couldn't tell you the last time I voted as I just have no idea who to vote for. I had to quit one church as the pastor talked about stuff I couldn't understand. About all I got from one of his sermons was that we had to forgive. I never could figure out what we were forgiving.

Melissa looked tired to me. I suppose it was from worry about me. Here I never get sick and now I am in the ICU for trying to hurt myself. I still needed to know what happened. I asked Melissa by writing on the marker board. She ducked her head and started to cry. She then dried her eyes and told me that she didn't know what had happened.

"We went out for supper last Friday night. You wanted to talk with me about something important to you. We ate supper and you kind of hemmed and hawed a little and then you just got up and paid the bill and we came home. You hadn't even had more than one beer. You usually drink two or three when we go out but not Friday night."

We had gone out for supper. I still couldn't remember anything about it. That was unusual since she is such a great cook that most places can't compete with one of her meals. "Were we celebrating something? Did I get a raise at work?"

She just cried again and said, "No, we just went out to have a quiet meal, just the two of us."

That didn't make much sense as we eat together as a couple all the time since the girls ran away. She asked, "Could the fact the girls had run away have something to do with how you feel? I know that both you and I were very frustrated and upset when they ran away to that bitch, Wendy's, house. For all we know she is still using. Then the accusation that you had been abusing them, that was the kicker as far as I was concerned. I know I told you that I didn't want you to let them back or even acknowledge them."

I nodded. I was remembering that conversation. It had to have happened after the police came to the house and then the woman from Child Protective Services investigated. The accusations hurt. They hadn't come to anything but Melissa told me that now there would always be a question and a mark on our records indicating that we had been accused of bad behavior. I didn't know how they could do that but we had both heard bad stories of how that kind of accusation haunted people for ages.

It didn't seem right that my children abandoning me would cause me to try and kill myself. No, something else was nagging at my memories. I tried to remember what else had happened.

Somehow I got the feeling that whatever it was had been building for quite a while. I was tired so I closed my eyes. Melissa got up from the chair and gave me a kiss. "I love you, Wade. I need you home with me." She hesitated a moment. "I will see you tomorrow night. Sleep well, my love." I nodded and then fell asleep.

I had some strange dreams that night. One of them had Melissa talking to some strange dude. They looked at me and then laughed me and then walked away hand in hand. For some strange reason I was tied to a chair and couldn't speak or get up. I woke in a sweat and in pain. I called for the night nurse and got some pain medication. The pain in my neck subsided a little and I didn't have another dream that I remembered.

In the morning the nurse asked me how I slept. I shrugged my shoulders and didn't write anything down. "The night shift nurse reported that you were yelling in your sleep last night before she brought you some pain medicine." Maybe that was why my throat was so sore when I woke up. I certainly couldn't yell right then as my pain was back.

Melissa came in about one in the afternoon. I wrote and asked her why she wasn't at work. "Dear, surely you remember I was laid off a month ago. I take care of Jimmy now."

A flood of memories came back. I was suddenly very tense and upset. My hands were shaking so bad I couldn't write anything down. Luckily, just then, the physical therapist came in and we started to work on my leg and arm muscles. It was a welcome distraction from my thoughts.

Melissa tried to keep talking to me during my workout but I was concentrating on what the therapist was talking about as she worked my legs and arms so I had no idea what she was telling me.

When that therapist was done the nurse came in and helped me up to a chair. I was weak as a kitten for some reason. She told me that the tube in my penis would be coming out later then I would have to pee for them or they would put the tube back. Since that damned tube was a little uncomfortable and I had to be careful about the bag I was hoping I could pee immediately.

The speech therapist and then the occupational therapist came in while I was sitting in the chair. Melissa didn't get much time to say anything else before she had to go see to Jimmy's needs.

Then the head doctor came back in and started to ask again how I felt. Some of my memories were clearing up. I could now talk a little but tried to keep to Yes or No answers and wrote out the rest. It took a while.

I told him how proud I was of Melissa. She was the ideal of a woman who is a mother and a housekeeper. She is also very creative. She used to work for a florist and made wonderful arrangements for any type of event. She even planned events such as graduations and weddings. I always told everyone she was by far smarter than me. I know she was very sad when the kids left. It seemed like she lost some of her will to live. Our sex life also suffered during that time.

Then she had gotten a job helping out handicapped people. It was just kind of a nurse's aide type job but it let her cook and clean and be a companion for different people. Mostly she worked with physically handicapped individuals and not mentally handicapped.

Her attitude had improved and even our sex life had improved. She was happy and if she was happy then I was happy. At least I was happy until she was assigned to help out Jimmy Barlow. Jimmy was an alcoholic drug user who had suffered injuries from a car/train accident. Actually it was rumored that Jimmy tried to commit suicide by train but no one had accused him of it.

He had suffered a brain injury alongside multiple fractures. Now he could talk again and live on his own but his left side was permanently injured and he could not use his hand. He walked but his left leg didn't work well so he kind of shuffled along.

Anytime he could get hold of alcohol he drank until he was completely wasted. He refused to admit his problem so he was not in any kind of therapy. He couldn't drive anymore so he had to walk or get someone else to bring him alcohol. I don't think he had any friends left. Melissa told me that she felt sorry for him since even his parents and other family wanted nothing to do with him.

Soon after she was assigned to help him, Jimmy started to call Melissa more and more to come and help him do everything. She started to let other clients slide so she could rush over for whatever Jimmy needed at the time. She started to go to his apartment before I headed off to work so she could help him get dressed and then she would make him breakfast, something she had done for me since we got married but didn't have time to do now.

Then she would go over to his apartment at noon and fix him some lunch. She used to fix me a lunch to take to work but now she didn't have time. She might stay at his apartment in case he needed something in the afternoon and then would make him supper. I was having to eat leftovers or a cold sandwich. I told the doctor I couldn't remember when we had last sat and eaten a meal together.

Now it might seem like a childish thing to complain about since it was Melissa's job to help her clients but she didn't make more than one meal for any other client. She didn't drop everything and go help any other client. Their visits were scheduled and for specific reasons, not every reason under the sun. Also, Jimmy was living independently and shouldn't need a full time housekeeper and that was what Melissa became.

I didn't really mind it, at first that is, as I knew what kind of caring individual Melissa is and how much she needed to feel needed. But over time it kept getting worse. First her employer became upset with the fact she was not making all of the visits that she was supposed to do. She was written up a couple of times then finally let go.

This just gave her more time with Jimmy. I met him whenever she would go and bring him to our house for a meal. He wasn't obnoxious but he just didn't seem to have much of a personality at all. Since I don't speak much it was Melissa who kept the conversation going. She would joke and kid us both and call us her boys. There were times some other friends would be there and they seemed to be less friendly and open when Jimmy was there.

I don't drink much but I always keep some beer around. One night Jimmy was left alone in the house for a while. When we returned he had sucked down each and every ounce of alcohol in the house and was shit-faced. I told Melissa to never bring him there again and she argued with me that I could not tell her who she could invite into our house. We went to bed angry with each other and still had that drunk bastard in the house the next morning.

She continued to go to his apartment each and every day. She would spend hours there. I tried to get her to see that she was neglecting our relationship but she would just say she loved me and that was not debatable. She said that I was worried about nothing if I thought she was having sex with Jimmy as she believed he was impotent because of his injuries and his alcoholism.

Farmers_Son
Farmers_Son
1,781 Followers