Burned by Smoke

Let me begin by saying YES there are spelling errors, errors in grammar, and run on dialog. I did have a volunteer editor review this. I did have others on another hosting site offer comments and critique. I did my best to take that into consideration and make changes. I am not an English lit grad. I just feel that since I read and comment on others work I should at least submit something to the site. This is my view of how someone discovers a cheating wife and how he would react in a real world. I hope you enjoy but if not at least leave contrastive criticism rather than bashing for the sake of bashing.

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Let me begin with the customary background stuff and get that out of the way. My name is Dale Lewis, 48 years old and about as average as you can get. At 5'8 I am not tall and at 170 I am not really overweight. I have most of my hair which is now turning gray and I keep it cut "high and tight" as some would say. I run 3 miles a day and more on weekends. I can finish a half marathon well under 2 hours. I drink socially and don't smoke and I have never cheated on my wife. I worked many years for a financial institution in the IT department and worked my way from a simple programmer to an executive in charge of a very large department. Getting there required a lot of long hours and some travel overseas to places like India and Brazil as the outsourcing started. Yes, that sucks.

A lot of close friends losing jobs to cheap labor bothered me to no end but what the corporation didn't know is that I had been lining up jobs for our best employees with other companies. I made a lot of connections over the years and that was paying off now. I set up excellent retention packages and severance packages for my team. That means if they stayed the six months to train their offshore replacements they walked away with not only an exceptional severance package but a very large bonus check.

Because of my contacts, I had set it up where two weeks after the lay off they would start another job at a similar company with the same or better pay than what they had. If the leadership ever found out what I had arranged I would have been let go on the spot. As for me, I negotiated a deal where I also received a very lucrative package and the company bumped up my time of service to actually let me retire. I then just had to leave for six months and they would take me back at my present salary but at a lower level position. All I had to do was mentor the new management team. One extra side benefit was I could work remotely. My office was basically any place that had an Internet connection. What resulted was my being at home all day and night and working to what amounted to about four to six hours over a 24 hour period. That is a pretty sweet deal.

Since I was home I assumed the primary role of housekeeping, shopper, laundry worker, and cook. I didn't mind as for the past 20 years due to my long work hours all that work fell on my wife Lisa. She never complained, really, but I always felt guilty. My doing this now for the past five years has made me feel much better. I still don't feel I have made amends but it is a start.

Lisa is my wife of 22 years. She is 44 years old and a beauty. She is 5'5 and weighs in at 120lbs. Most of it is in her chest. She would kill me for mentioning that as she has always been self-conscious about being large breasted. I met her 24 years ago on the beach. It was a "Bo Derrick" moment. She was just coming out of the water and did one of those head moves whipping her hair back and I was on the sand watching her every second. She had on a one-piece suit that fit her so well. High cut on the sides, low cut on the top, and oh those breasts! She was a 36 C at that time and all-natural. Turn the clock forward 20 years and two kids later and she is still a knockout. Some more has been added to the hips and after the two kids the breasts have increased to an easy DD. Still natural breasts, not as perky, but they are still a sight to behold. Lisa works downtown for one of the remaining large insurance corporations. She has been there since we married. Her schedule is pretty solid as she leaves for work around 7:30 each morning and is home at 5:30 each evening. Three times a week she uses her lunch or spare time to work out at the company fitness center. It could be a class like yoga or it could be the elliptical or treadmill. She showers and then gets home all at the same time as non-work out days. She rarely has a girl's night out but once every few months she will have dinner and drink after work with a few of her close friends. It is always at a local restaurant and not a club and I have an open invitation to join that I have used often.

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Now here is where my story begins. We fell into quite the routine regarding my wife's return home from work. She would always make a beeline to the kitchen table and drop her backpack in the left chair at the end farthest from where we sat for dinner. The table seated six but since the kids had long moved out we only used one end closet to the appliances and counter space. The far end became a place for mail and her bags. She would say "Hi Hon" and then either following it with a short statement of "today sucked" or "what a great day". Her next move was to make the simple announcement "I am going up to change". My immediate reply would be "but I love you just the way you are". She would follow up with "oh, you're so cute" and then walk over to me and give me a quick peck on the lips and head upstairs. Upstairs she would wash her face removing her makeup, she would then put her hair back with some sort of headband, and finally put on her "comfies" as she called them and then sit down with me and chat about the day. While she is upstairs I would make some sort of pre-dinner cocktail.

It was that way, every workday, for the last 5 years - until today. Today was just a tiny bit different but it was enough out of the norm for me to catch. At the time I had no idea what it meant if anything, and I just let it go as I didn't know what to say or why I would say anything. What happened today was instead of the little peck on the lips I got an "air" kiss. You know the kind you see on TV shows where two women who don't really like each other meet at some social engagement and they just ever so lightly pucker their lips and smack the air near each other? It was that quick little gesture. But what I also noticed as she quickly breezed by was the usual light scent of her perfume but also a very unusual light scent of cigarette smoke. That didn't hit me as anything wrong but since she has never come home from work with any kind of smoke smell I found it strange. You can't smoke in the building at her place of work nor on the grounds. Restaurants and bars are all now smoke-free. The only time she smelled of smoke was when she went to the casino and then it would be a knock me over smoke smell. Lisa was once a smoker but that was well over 20 years ago when we dated. She came from a family of smokers while I was from a non-smoking family. She quit sometime during our engagement as she felt awkward and uncomfortable smoking around my family. She only had what is referred to as a social cigarette with friends in the first few months of our marriage. I hadn't seen her smoke since.

So I said nothing and the evening continued as normal and so did the next week. No more air kisses and no more smell of smoke. But then it started to happen again. Not every day but more often. It started to get to be several days a week but there was no exact pattern. It wasn't like every Monday, Wednesday, Friday. It was just random. Still, I let it go.

The next change that occurred was with her fingernails. Lisa loves a mani-pedi. It is her escape for a few hours where she is pampered and comes back relaxed and feeling pretty. I can't remember the last time she polished or filed or trimmed her own nails. Every other week or on-demand if we have a social event she goes to the salon. She does not get the long fake nails you see on some women. Lisa always prefers what she called a natural length. She once had the long fake nails when she was a bridesmaid. She couldn't stand it as she could not type, use the phone, and she feared breaking a nail. The pain associated with tearing off your fingernail terrified her. After the wedding those nails didn't last the week. So imagine my shock when she came home this time with long fake nails. Not flaming red as you may think but a natural look or color but long. Again, I didn't say anything. If she brought it up I would have questions but I wanted to see where this was going.

This behavior if you can call it that, continued for the next month. Days with the same old routine and nowadays with the new routine as well as the upkeep of the new long artificial nails. My mind was spinning. What was causing the cigarette smoke? Why the change to long nails? Nothing else was out of whack. Sex was often and great, conversation was great, no girl's night out or sudden business travel. But I needed to know. I was confused and I was curious.

It was early into the third month when things came to a head. It was a Saturday at breakfast when she informed me that she was going shopping with her girlfriend Brenda. Brenda was a former coworker who had moved a few towns away. They wanted to go outlet shopping, which was about an hour from our home. She said that with the distance and the fact she had a lot to catch up on that she would be gone most of the day. This is not really out of the norm for her and I had no reason to not trust or believe her. It was for all intents and purposes a non-issue. I told her to enjoy herself and I would find plenty to do around the house and yard so don't worry about me. Later that morning she was off and gave me a big kiss goodbye.

About 7:30 that evening I felt like going out for a quick bite to eat and was just opening the door to the garage at the same instant Lisa was going to enter. It was one of those weird moments when I pull the door while she was about to push. We came face to face in an instant about to collide. You know how at those times you are startled and exclaim OH! In that instant, for the first time there was smoke on her breath. She excitedly drew back and said she had to pee and rushed by me to the bathroom. I don't know why I did it but I then went to her car, which had the window down and looked inside. The smell of smoke was strong and I could see ashes on the floor beside the driver's seat. I had to snoop. I searched around in the glove box and under the seat and then in the center armrest console. Nothing was out of the ordinary but then something caught my eye. I saw a small makeup bag in the armrest. It was familiar as she always takes something with her. You know what is usually inside, the basic mascara, lipsticks, compact, hair ties. But what caught my eye was the rectangular shape outline on the bag. I never noticed that before. Opening the bag I saw a lighter and a pack of Virginia Slim 120 cigarettes. I mentioned that Lisa smoked when we dated. But she was a Marlboro girl. She never smoked anything but Marlboro's. Why did she have this brand in her bag? Even if she said they were not hers they were in her makeup bag in her car. Now I am not someone that will wait six months for a PI report with video and audio. This is not proof of an affair. All it means is she is smoking again, but why? How do I find out? Well I can ask her of course but what will I get for an answer? You never know until you try.

I took the cigarettes out of the bag and went back into the house. Once in the house I could hear the shower running so I knew she was covering up the smell. I went upstairs to the bedroom to check the clothing. I did a wash that morning so the only thing in the hamper would be her clothes. Looking in the hamper I found the clothes she was wearing, smelling of cigarettes, but no panties. None. The only time in our life together that she had no panties on was in bed or when she wore a bathing suit. She never went commando. So the underwear had to be in the bathroom with her or she went commando, or she left them someplace.

I went into the house and decided to call Brenda. Sure she could cover for her but like I said earlier - you never know until you try. We still had an old school phone book we kept. I know in modern times we all have cell phones but Lisa still used this for when she wrote out our Christmas cards. I wouldn't have Brenda's number in my contacts and I didn't have Lisa's phone handy to check her contacts. When I called Brenda's her husband Jeff answered. I asked if Lisa had left her watch there. He sounded taken aback and said "Why would her watch be here? I haven't seen Lisa since you both were here six months ago?" I then explained how Lisa and Brenda spent the day shopping. His reply sealed the deal for me when he informed me that Brenda has been at her mother's in San Diego all week! He asked what was going on and all I could say was I was going to find out and hung up.

I went upstairs to the bedroom as the shower had stopped. When the bathroom door opened and Lisa came out she was startled to see me. I simply stepped past her and started looking for the panties. I saw nothing on the floor or in any of the drawers and nothing in the linen closet. She came in a bit upset and asked what was I doing. I angrily said "Come downstairs and we will talk," and stormed out.

A few minutes later she was dressed and came down to the kitchen where I was sitting and she took a firm posture and said "What's wrong with you? Why are you acting so weird?"

I said, "Why the shower," and then I held out the cigarettes and said, "I found these but I couldn't find your panties, who has them."

There was a long pause. She sat down, looking at the table and not me, and said nothing.

"Lisa, for over 20 years I never lied to you. I think now you at least owe me the truth. For 3 months now I knew something was going on but I didn't know what. There is the faint smell of cigarettes, the long nails, the avoidance of the kiss when you get home from work, and now the lie about Brenda and the haste to shower. I know Brenda is out of state visiting her mother. I called. What has been happening at work has finally escalated to the point of you telling me lies so you could spend a day with him, whoever he is. Time to come clean."

Up until now, I thought I knew my wife. I fully expected the denial and anger and her somehow coming up with some story and turning this all on me as if I am a controlling and manipulative person. Instead what she did next came as quite a shock. With tears in her eyes she slowly reached out and took the cigarette pack and lit one up. After a long drag she exhaled and said "Sorry, but I need this." She then began to tell me her story. I actually found her calmness unsettling.

"It all started about six months ago when I was assigned to work with the Mergers and Acquisition team. The company had plans to enter into the health care market and with my former positions in the legal department, working with the lobbyist, and my experience as the chief of staff for several former departments they felt I would be a great addition to the team. It would be more clerical and research than I do now and offer excellent visibility. No promotion or pay raise now but it would really set me up for the near future.

"Later that week we were all told to meet in the board room for the introductory meeting and hold a kick-off. A meet and greet sort of thing and then receive our assignments. That is when I guess you can say the trouble started. As soon as he walked in I was awestruck. It was an instant attraction. I felt like I was hit with lighting. I saw YOU. I saw you just as you were when you were thirty years old. He had the same hair, same face, and same mannerisms. It was like I was transported back in time. With the exception of being bigger - it was you!"

"Bigger," I asked.

"Well he is like 6 feet tall and broader, but remember you also had a firm and strong physique as well. You were and are just shorter, I guess."

"But he is bigger," I said intentionally insinuating not in height. Her look told me all I needed to know.

"It's not like that, honey. That's not what I was after. I love you and I love how we make love."

"Just go on. I don't want to hear about your sex with your fuck buddy."

She let out a gasp, took another drag of the cigarette and continued.

"I stared at him the entire time not hearing a word of the presentation. He would catch me looking but he paid no attention to me. I was just another person at the table. For some reason that pissed me off. I somehow felt like it was YOU that was not interested in ME. I must have lost my mind because at that time I felt that I had to take the initiative and I had to win you over. It was again like when we were young and dating and I did everything I could to keep you. It was like I was losing YOU. A week or two went on and I did everything I could to gain his attention but he was very professional and treated me no different than anyone else. I didn't know what I was going to do. Then something happened that gave me my window of opportunity. The director said we would form small teams that would work on individual assignments and then once a week we would regroup as a larger team and report on our progress. I knew the person who was to determine who paired up and I asked if they would put Blake and me together."

"Blake? That is the guy who took my wife?"

"Yes, I mean no! Yes, his name is Blake. Blake Martin. But no, he didn't take your wife. I was the aggressor and I am and I will always be your wife!"

"We'll see about that."

She shuddered a bit, took another drag, and then continued.

"Once we were paired up we spent all day together. I just kept seeing you and again in my fantasy world, we were transported back in time. I must have been insane, I don't know, but again the more he just acted like I was a common coworker the more I felt I was losing you. You had no interest in me. I turned up the flirting. I would touch his hand, his shoulder, I would sit closer and give him what I thought was sexy looks. He never said anything but I noticed he didn't remove my hands."

She finished the cigarette and lit another.

"What about the smoking? Have you been a closet smoker all these years and just get careless? "

"As we worked closely together I learned Blake was a smoker. He took frequent breaks and when he came back I could smell the smoke. One day when he was going for a break I asked if I could go along. I said we could continue to discuss the project while he had his cigarette. Since there is no smoking allowed on company grounds we would go across the street to the small café. We would get a coffee and then sit outside at the park. One day he saw me staring at him while he smoked and he apologized and asked if his smoking bothered me. I told him no and mentioned that I was once a smoker but quite a long time ago.

"This continued on for a few more weeks and then one day I figured that if I smoked then maybe we would have some connection. We would have something in common. I asked him for one of his cigarettes. That is what got me smoking again. I moved my workout time from noon to later in the day so I would shower at work, using the fitness center before coming home. But on days when we had later meetings I couldn't. So I guess those are the days you started smelling smoke on my clothes."

"The nails," I asked.

"At some point when Blake and I were at the park smoking, I saw him looking at me. And it was the look I had been waiting for. He showed an interest. His gaze was the same I see you give me when you are just daydreaming about something and when I catch you looking it makes me feel sexy and wanted. I just smiled at him and said "What?" He blushed. He actually blushed at being caught! He told me he thinks pretty women who smoke are sexy. "I was sexy!" He said he always had a thing for girls smoking long white cigarettes with long nails. Now at this time I didn't have long nails and we were smoking his brand of cigarettes, Newport's, which have a cork filter. That is when I decided to get my nails done and buy my own cigarettes. These Virginia Slims 120 are the longest all white cigarettes I could find. Very feminine if a cigarette can be feminine.