An Overheard Conversation

Since I had gone to the hall bathroom I heard Tiff exclaim, "Hey, I don't hear the trimmer anymore. Where's Karl? You don't think he came into the house, did he?"

Gail responded with, "Let me check." There was a pause. "I don't see him from the window in here. Maybe he is in the garage cleaning up. I will go see. Maybe you should put on your blouse. I don't really want you to cover those luscious titties but I don't want him to see them in all their glory."

Footsteps came out and headed away from me. I wiped my face with her fancy damn guest hand towel and went back to the living room and found my chair waiting for me. At least the furniture hasn't let me down yet! I collapsed back into the chair. My gut was still roiling. Evidently puking doesn't always make you feel better when your life is falling apart at the time.

I barely paid attention as the thoughts started again. My wife is not my friend. She is not my partner. She does not have my best interests, hell any interests, at heart. She might be a sexual partner and a bedmate but she is not my lover. I only labored under the delusion that she was.

Was she that good of an actress? Did I miss any signs of her treachery? Was I just another trusting fool? Was she always a lesbian and I just was clueless or was that first time with Carly where she changed? She never seemed to be adverse to sex with me. I mean, yeah, we have slowed down a little since getting married but I still dipped my wick at least twice weekly. The daily work load certainly didn't make sexual thoughts a priority. Even as a clueless male, I understood that a guy just can't tell a woman, "Hey, let's have sex." And that suddenly she will be turned on and ready to fuck. That truly only happens in bad literature and porn. Hell, even in porn they either edited a lot to shorten the foreplay or used a tub full of lubricant to get a woman wet enough for penetration. Shit, they might have to do both. How would I know?

With all the recurring thoughts running through my mind, I barely noted Gail calling my name. For a bit she was outside looking for me. Then she must have come in and checked the kitchen and the family room. I heard her call out to Tiff. "He's not outside and I can't find him in here. The truck and my car are here. Do you think he went for a walk?"

I then heard Tiff. "I don't know and, right now, I don't want to know. I need to get out of here. You have confused me to no end today. If he happened to overhear anything you were trying while we were in the bedroom, he might have bailed on you. I need to get out of here. Oh, I already said that, didn't I? Bye."

Tiff must have walked right by me to the front door. I don't know. The room was getting darker as the sun went down. She might not have seen me sitting there like a statue or maybe like a piece of furniture. That was It! I was just a piece of furniture to Gail. Something that had a little value when needed but ignored until needed. After all, who cares about a chair or a couch until you need a place to park your butt?

After the door closed was when Gail must have finally recognized the stench of tuna puke. Or would that be puke that smelled like tuna? Do tuna puke? How would you know? Strange thoughts were swirling in the fog in my head.

Gail's exclamation penetrated a little. "Oh, God, what a mess! Karl, where are you? What is going on? Even if you threw up, why didn't you clean up after yourself? Inconsiderate bastard. Lazy-assed lunkhead. Jesus, the things I have to do around here." I guess she was trying to clean up the puke. I hope she puked. It would serve her right.

While she was occupied I continued to sit and try to make some sense out of my life. I guess I need to clean up. Do I have puke on my tee shirt? I know I must smell of sweat and grass clippings. Yes, I need to take a shower. Gail will be upset with me if I am not clean. Does this mean I need to use some of her perfume after showering? Would that make me less of a man or more interesting to a lesbian? Why am I thinking like that?

After I clean up, then what? Divorce was an absolute necessity. She needed to be free to marry Carly and before there were kids involved. I needed a lawyer to guide me. Should I kick her out? Should I leave? Can I change the locks? Both our names were on the mortgage. How do I keep her from stimulating my cock while sleeping. Is that rape if she gets me hard and climbs aboard to get me to inseminate her without my permission? Can she be charged with that? Would I want everyone to know my lesbian wife raped me to get pregnant? Should I leave to protect myself?

Where would I go tonight? I don't think I can safely drive the way I am thinking. We lived in a subdivision miles from the nearest motel. I guess I could call a taxi or an Uber but then what?

Gail must have finished cleaning the floor of the bathroom as I could hear her walking back toward the mudroom. She must be putting the dirty towels into the washer. I wonder if she noticed that I wiped my hands with her guest towel.

Then I heard her call for me again. Our house has three bedrooms so I assume she checked them all. She came back to the family room and looked again. I could see her shadow as she moved about. And then there was blinding light. I squeezed my eyes shut against the sudden glare after being so used to the deepening darkness of my refuge.

"Karl, what are you doing sitting here in the dark? Why haven't you responded to me? I have been calling for you? When did you get done with the yard work? Why aren't you speaking? Is there something wrong? I found that you puked in the bathroom? Are you ill? Please answer me. Karl? Karl?"

She came close. I could sense her but I kept my eyes shut. I was sitting bolt upright so she knew I was conscious. She touched my face. "You aren't feverish but you stink. Why didn't you get cleaned up before you changed? Karl, please answer me. You are beginning to scare me."

I opened my eyes but didn't make contact with her. I thought I sprang up but I must have slowly risen as she had plenty of time to move back out of the way. I know I tried to say something erudite. I wanted to scream at her for being a lying, cheating lesbian slut but nothing came out. I worked my dry mouth and tongue but only made some kind of inconsequential sounds. I wanted to cry but something wouldn't let me show how much I hurt, at least in front of her. She had no name I could utter or even think. She was now just She or It or Slut or? I had no word that accurately described her.

I settled for a nod and shuffled past her and headed for the bedroom. You know which one, the one we used to share, the one we called the master bedroom. Well, it was still the master bedroom and She was the master, at least for a short time longer. She followed me. "Karl, please speak. What is wrong? Are you having a stroke?" I shook my head.

I shuffled into the "master" bedroom and pulled out clean jeans, a shirt, and some socks and underwear. I also grabbed my slippers. I hate walking around without something on my feet. Maybe it's because of the dirty places I have to crawl into but I am afraid of something slithering across my bare feet. I don't care if it is a cockroach, a silverfish, or even a toad or (shudder) a snake. It doesn't need to be on my feet.

The woman named She was right behind me. I think She was still begging me to speak but now I wasn't hearing anything. Maybe I was having a stroke. My fingers and my feet seemed to be working okay. My vision was clear. I had a purpose. I was going to take a shower. I could remember my name and the day of the week. I just couldn't hear Lying, Thieving, Cheating Lesbian speak and I couldn't seem to be able to talk.

I turned and almost ran into She. She was that close. With a yelp She jumped out of harm's way and I went back out into the hallway and down to the hall bathroom. I had no way to lock her out of the bathroom in the bedroom so I needed to change where I cleaned up. I stopped in the doorway and turned. Lying Lesbian had to suddenly stop to now keep from slamming into me. I put my hand up and She paused her questions and the voicing of her concerns. Stepping back quickly I shut the door before She could start up again and pushed in the button to lock the door. I don't think She knew how easy it would be to defeat the lock and I certainly wasn't going to let her know right now, maybe never.

It still smelled of tuna flavored puke but the mess was gone. I turned on the exhaust fan and started the shower. I stripped down and soon was standing under the warm shower. We only had a fifty gallon water heater so I decided to forego the short hot shower I normally indulged in and went for a long warm shower. Damn, there was no soap or shampoo in here. I guess if you run enough water over your body that soap might not be necessary. Since I don't care now whether Lesbian Slut could smell me, as long as I didn't gross myself out, who would care if I used soap tonight.

I stayed there until the water started to run cool. I didn't want to make myself hypothermic as that slows mental processes and would put She at an even better advantage, so I reluctantly shut off the water and used another guest towel to dry myself. While drying I worked my mouth a little and tried to say something. Nope, no intelligible sounds, just some moans and a few clicks. Thank goodness it was the weekend. Hopefully by Monday I could speak again.

After dressing, I opened the door and carried my dirty towels and clothes past a startled She toward the mudroom. I moved the now clean towels from the washer to the dryer and then threw all my clothes into the washer, measured out the soap and started it. See, I might be a clueless male, but I can run a clothes washer.

She was still right behind me. It was strange. I could hear the dryer and the washer but I didn't seem to be able to hear Lying Lesbian Slut anymore. Her lying mouth was moving but I heard no sound. I pondered that. Was it because she wanted to use it to pleasure her lesbian lovers? I used the plural as I assumed she was a promiscuous lesbian if she was attempting to seduce her friend Tiff as well as have a relationship with Carly, her college roommate and acknowledged lover. How many other women were having sex with my soon-to-be ex-wife?

When I decided I had no way of figuring out that last question I decided to go online and order some food to be delivered. No, I was not going to order a tuna salad anything. Don't go there, okay?

Let's see, where is my phone? Oh, yeah, in the kitchen on the charger. I assumed She was following as I went back down the hallway. I pondered which bedroom would be the most comfortable for the near future as I went by each doorway. Both extra bedrooms had queen sized beds with nice mattresses for when family would visit. Yes, we had planned to turn one into a nursery but that was now out of the question. How do I secure the door after choosing my bed for the night? Should I push She out of the master? Naw, that would be mean and I don't care to fight about where I sleep, except I will not share a bed with Lesbian Slut.

I found my phone and soon had one of the food delivery places bringing me some soup and a simple sandwich. I assume Conspiring Slut wanted to know if I had ordered anything for her but I still couldn't hear her for some reason. I would have to look into that little fact. Well, someday, maybe.

I then went back to the master and started to move clothes to the farthest bedroom from the master. I wanted as much separation as I could get until I had a chance to make other accommodations. Where wasn't that important. Whatever my income could afford, I guess. I was a worthless male. I could make do with anything that was warm in winter and somewhat cool in summer. It certainly wouldn't have to have guest towels in the main bathroom.

As I worked to move, even though I couldn't hear She, I could feel hands grabbing my arms and trying to take my clothes away from me. I shrugged her off when I could. My next trip was to make sure my soap, shampoo, and toiletries were secured. First I was going to just put them in the bathroom but then, I decided She would just move them back to mess with me and I was tired of being messed with. So, they went into the bedroom with my clothes.

The doorbell went off. Ahh, my soup. I didn't care about the sandwich as my stomach was still upset but soup was what was needed. I headed for the front door and arrived at the same time Lesbian Slut arrived. She tried to take the food but I made a no-no motion with my hand and forefinger and She backed off. I acknowledged the delivery person, a female, with a nod and accepted the bag. I motioned to She and left the door opened. I assumed She might want to convert the delivery person to lesbianism while she was there. I ignored them both and went to the kitchen to eat.

You know, the loss of hearing can be a good thing. I ate relatively undisturbed even though I assumed She had not shut up since finding me sitting in the dark. I sat at the peninsula, which by the way she insisted on having built before we moved in. She stood in my field of vision and gesticulated but that was not hard to ignore as I ate my meal.

After I finished my simple repast I placed the containers in the trash and then checked my watch. It was still a little early for bed. I certainly didn't want to sit in the family room and watch television. All of the chairs allowed She to sit close. I was afraid I might catch something if I shared a couch with her or maybe I was afraid that she might catch something from me, namely sperm to start that baby making stuff! I decided to use my time wisely and go for a walk.

Cheating Lesbian Slut seemed upset that I was still ignoring her as I walked out the front door and down the block. For some reason She didn't seem to be following me, though. I then walked a couple of miles at a steady pace. All the while I worked my mouth, lips and tongue trying to find words.

Success! After about twenty minutes, I was starting to make sounds that I could recognize. I still don't know why I couldn't hear Lesbian Slut but I wasn't going to lose any sleep over that small unfortunate (or was that fortunate?) problem. I started to hum some old favorite tunes. After a bit I realized I was humming children's hymns.

As I headed back to the house (no longer considered a home) I improved from humming to actually whistling. I was feeling better. Yes, I was still sad. I was sad that the woman I had placed my love, my trust, my faith, my future, and had hoped to be the mother of my children had turned out to be a conniving, lying slut that fully intended to screw me over for the next twenty or so years. I was also grieving about the loss of the above. The next few months were bound to be massively stressful, depending on how many roadblocks She put up to prevent a divorce.

I continued to quietly whistle as I started up the walk to the house. I barely noticed a couple of extra vehicles in the driveway as I approached the door. Vaguely I wondered who might be visiting at this hour. It was almost ten at night. I mentally shrugged. Any visitors had to be because She invited them and that affected me, NOT!

I opened the door and noted She must have called her reinforcements in the name of Tiff and Carly as both were sitting in the living room holding Lesbian's hands. I decided to continue whistling and didn't stop when the extra females tried to speak to me.

Carly was the first to speak. "Karl, how are you? It has been a long time. Gail was telling us that something must have happened today to upset you and you have not felt well since. Care to let us know so we can help you?"

Suddenly I could no longer hear her. First her speech became just a low key buzz and then, poof, nothing at all. Her lips continued to move but I no longer heard any sound from her.

Next came Tiff. "Karl, I know you must have overheard us this afternoon. I am so sorry that I played even a coincidental part in this fiasco. I certainly never intended to hurt you. Please let Gail explain herself. It would have to be better than what you think you overheard. Please." She stopped when I didn't quit quietly whistling.

I focused on Tiff. "I am sorry to be a poor host, but it is my bedtime and I need to get some sleep. I seem to be exhausted for some reason. I am sure you can find your own way out." It was hoarse, even to my ears, but I think I was understandable. The Thing Called Carly seemed to be angry and Lying, Cheating Slut had tears running down her cheeks but somehow it didn't bother me. I grabbed a dining room chair on my way to my new bedroom and secured my door with the chair before disrobing and crawling into the bed.

I slept like a baby. Well, if the baby had cholic and couldn't be consoled. I tossed and turned. I watched shadows move across the ceiling. I broke down and cried. I have no idea if I sobbed out loud. I heard noises. Someone tried to open the door a few minutes after I turned off the light and attempted sleep. Someone knocked. I assumed it was either She or The Thing Called Carly as I heard no voices. I ignored the knocking. I must have dozed a few times as there were gaps between times that I checked my phone for the time.

Well, I felt that I was more tired in the morning than when I actually laid down. Yeah, I accepted that my marriage was over. I was still depressed, though. Whoever came up with the five stages of grief failed to stress that it was not simply a linear progression. You can be in multiple stages at the same time. I certainly felt that way. And it was a Sunday. I was stuck here with Lesbian Slut and was unable to start the process to separate myself any further from her. In one way, not being able to hear her, allowed some separation to already start.

What to do until Monday morning? That was my main thought as I removed the chair from under the doorknob and started out into the hallway when I tripped and almost fell into another time zone. No, I am kidding. The narrow hallway saved me. I only put a medium sized, well, the size of my cranium, hole in the drywall before I stopped. Lying, Cheating, Conniving Slut must have made some kind of noise when I tripped over her, but I didn't hear it. My deafness concerning her was still intact.

I looked over at Lesbian Slut as I tried to determine if I was bleeding. She had obviously spent the night on the floor outside the bedroom door. For what reason I could not fathom. She had a pillow and a blanket to make her more comfortable. Now we were both hurting, at least I was and I assumed She was from the grimacing as She held a hand over her side where I must have caught my foot causing my fall. Since I was deaf concerning her voice, I had no idea what She was saying.

While I was determining the extent of my injuries, both other bedroom doors opened and The Thing Called Carly came out of the master bedroom and Tiff came out of the other guest bedroom. I assume the noise level increased but I could only hear Tiff as she asked what had happened. I kept it simple since my voice might still be hoarse. "I tripped over her when I came out of the bedroom. I wasn't looking down where I was stepping and tripped. I hit the wall and left a big dent. I have no idea how badly She is hurt. Maybe you and That Other Thing should take her to the ER."

I pointed at The Thing Called Carly as I said "That Other Thing" so there would be no mistake. Tiff barely acknowledged me as she and The Thing Called Carly bent to help Lying, Conniving, Deceitful Lesbian. Since we were all crowded into the narrow hallway, I could not move toward the living room or kitchen so I picked myself up, with no help from anyone I might add, and went to the mud room and moved my wet clothes from the washer to the dryer and folded the dry towels.