February Sucks - The Bus

[:::: Authors Note ::::]

Many LW writers have had a turn at George Andersons, February Sucks. It is an excellent story with some authors going for the full burn, others reconciling, and others going different routes. I have loved all of the different versions as most writers tried to work with most of the characters and the various 'personalities. In some ways, it feels like an LW author right of passage to submit a version or alternative to this story.

I've been pondering a version myself for a few months, and as February is again upon us for my understanding, I wanted to explore things a little more from Linda's perspective. If she genuinely regretted her actions, what would that look like? I wanted to try and keep some of the characters similar to GA's original. This also means that if you're into the BTB side of this story, you might want to steer clear of this one as it focuses on reconciliation. If you like the burn, I recommend you read 'February Sucks -- Big Time' by Saddletramp1956, his burn version is one of my favourites.

When we look at what attracts us to the tale of Jim and Linda, I have been asking myself why, what is it that hooks us in with their tale, and why have so many of us wanted to write our version? I have come to believe that we engage with this story because, in many ways, we feel that Jim and Linda could be us. They love each other, and the lead up shows us how much they want to be together and be a family with their kids. But, until Linda walks out, Jim and Linda are committed to each other, that sudden unexpected betrayal creates a knot in us that we need to be resolved. This is likely why George's story is so popular.

Now, as an Aussie, I'm used to writing the Australian way. I have tried to write a little more American for this story. If I slip a few Aussie words in, please forgive me.

I would like to thank Burke for getting in and editing with me, I've made a few changes since his edit, so of course, the mistakes are mine. Lastly, I have reached out to George Anderson for permission to use his original story as a baseline but have not heard back from him. So, I'm taking a punt that he gives his approval, and I acknowledge the original storylines and characters are his.

Let's pick up from where the detestable tight-end changes Jim and Linda's lives forever.

I hope you enjoy 'February Sucks -- The Bus.'

[ :::: From GA ::::]

"Hi, I'm Marc. Would you like to dance?" He was standing behind Linda's left shoulder, holding his hand out to her.

I felt Linda gasp as she dropped my hand as if it were a hot potato. I watched dumbstruck as she turned her back to me, gave Marc her right hand (it almost disappeared in his big paw) and gracefully rose from her chair.

"Hey, man, now my feelings are hurt. I thought she was just dancing with you tonight." Dave smiled as he needled me.

"Yeah, that's what I thought, too," I groused.

"Relax, Jim. It's just a dance." Jane tried to soothe me. I tried to believe her, but I couldn't help having a bad feeling about this.

The band played a couple of fast songs, and our whole table watched them dance. So did everyone else in the room. Marc was good, far better than I was, and Linda was clearly enjoying herself. Her partner and her dress combined to show her off to perfection.

"Don't they look great together? Come on, Jim, let's join them," Dee invited, clearly trying to distract me.

"Thanks, but no."

The next song was a slow one. I watched Linda melt into his arms, fitting perfectly as though she belonged there. He was good at that, too. Lots of practice, I'll bet, I thought to myself sourly. Marc said something to Linda; she smiled sweetly as she responded. He wasn't doing anything I could legitimately object to. He didn't dance any closer to her than I danced with Dee or Jane; his hands didn't go anywhere they weren't supposed to.

Another slow song, a ballad this time. I could see the band leader watching my wife and her partner, taking his cues from them. Marc was smiling as he held Linda in his arms; he was clearly pleased with whatever was going on. I'd seen enough. I rose from my chair, and felt Jane's hand on my arm.

"Wait, Jim. Let her have this. Don't ruin it for her."

I jerked my arm free, and then I looked at Linda's face. She clearly wanted to be exactly where she was, and nowhere else. She did not want any interference from me. I slumped back into my chair. Finally, the song ended. Marc nodded at the band leader, who started a faster song. He and Linda left the dance floor, smiling at each other, but not touching, not even holding hands. Linda gave him a last brilliant smile as she turned toward our table and Marc turned toward his.

The difference between a woman's best smile and her second-best smile isn't much. Unless you know the woman well, you probably wouldn't notice it at all. As Linda neared our table and our eyes met, her best smile faded to her second-best. I knew then that we had a problem.

"I keep telling you that you're the most attractive woman in here," I whispered in her ear as I seated her. I reached for her hand, and held it in both of mine. "Is it time to take the next dance back to our room?"

For just the tiniest moment, I could have sworn Linda was afraid. Her eyes widened and I could feel her hand trembling. She covered the moment quickly, though, and looked away from me, across the table.

"I'm sorry, everyone, I just have to go to the restroom right now. Linda, come with me?" Dee's voice could be heard far beyond our table. I was too preoccupied to wonder why she had to broadcast this to the room at large. Linda looked at me apologetically.

"Sorry, Jim. I can use some freshening up, too." She rose and left, without answering my question. Of course, the conversation immediately turned to why no woman who is out with a group can possibly go to the restroom by herself. I had just started to wonder why my friends were working so hard to keep the conversation going on that topic, when Dee came back. Alone.

"Where's Linda? Is she okay?" I practically shouted.

"Relax, Jim," Dee said, smiling. "Linda is fine, she just has something to do. You don't need to worry about her. She is a grownup woman, you know." Upon which my friends started teasing me about how much I worried about Linda. It's true, I did; she worried about me the same way. I put up with it for about five minutes, and when Linda still hadn't returned, I'd had enough. I got up and headed for the bar, taking an empty plate with me as an excuse. I approached one of the female bartenders.

"Excuse me, but my wife went to the restroom about fifteen minutes ago, and hasn't come out. She never takes that long. Could you please go, or send someone, to be sure she's all, right?"

The bartender gave me a dubious look. The plate in my hand gave me an idea.

"The wings are great, and she likes spicy food, but every now and then she gets a reaction. Really, I just want to know she's all right. Her name is Linda. Here, let me show you a picture of her." I put down the plate and pulled up Linda's picture on my phone. The bartender was beginning to look somewhat sympathetic when there was a voice at my elbow.

"She's all right, you don't need to check on her." Dee was addressing the bartender. "Everything's fine. I'll take care of this." She placed a five on the counter. I wondered why the bartender looked at me with what seemed like sympathy as she pocketed the bill.

"What... why... but she went there with you? because you asked her?" I was completely confused.

"Jim, she's not in the restroom. She has left the club."

"Left? Without me? Why? What's the matter? Why didn't she tell me? Where did she go? Is she all right?" I still didn't get it.

"Let's go to the end of the bar where there's some privacy." I just went where Dee dragged me. It was quieter in the dark corner at the end of the bar. Dee looked me in the eye.

"Jim, Linda loves you. She loves you and the children more than anything else in the world, and she always will, and you know it. But she is spending tonight with Marc."

I stood there with my mouth open, looking stupid as my world ended. Pictures whirled madly through my mind, or what was left of it. Linda at the top of the stairs in her beautiful blue dress. Linda at dinner; Linda at the club; Linda as we fed wings to each other. Linda in Asshole's arms. My anger rose.

[:::: February Sucks -- The Bus ::::]

"So, on what was supposed to be a special night where we celebrated Valentine's Day, where I got us a hotel room to celebrate our love, my LOVING WIFE, walks out to go a FUCK another man!" I just about screamed in her face. "She didn't even have the decency to look me in the eyes and tell me that she was leaving me."

"Jim, Linda isn't leaving you..."

"Then where is my wife, Dee? Can you point her out in this crowd?"

"Jim, you need to calm down. People are starting to stare. It would be best if you accept this. You're a good man!"

I stood and walked away from Dee before I did something stupid, like slapping her. I was angry, I was hurt, I was devastated. As I walked back to my table, each step felt like a part of my soul was being torn away. As I approached the table, Dee was trying to follow and I reached for my jacket. Dee was trying damage control.

"Jim, you need to stop. You are making way too big a deal out of this. It's only tonight, and she will come back to you tomorrow. After that, everything will be okay, you'll see."

I whirled on Dee, "You think everything is going to be okay. You facilitated my wife to run away with another man if I am correct. You didn't need to go to the restroom, did you? Your role was to get me out of the way so my oh so loving wife could cheat on me?"

There was a gasp at the table, and for a moment, Dee looked embarrassed, then she took a prideful stance. "Yes, Jim, Linda asked me to do it because she knew you wouldn't go along with her night with Marc. But, Jim, you should understand, it's Marc freaking LaValliele." She softened, "Linda loves you, Jim, but she is being swept off her feet by an amazing man. Let her have her night of passion. She deserves this! You love her too much to let this hurt the two of you."

Like a volcano, my emotions were starting to erupt. "You stupid cow, you obviously have no idea what love is, and to think she DESERVES this. What the actual fuck Dee! Did I deserve to have my wife of TEN YEARS and mother of my TWO CHILDREN walk out on me with no reason whatsoever? I came to this club with all of you tonight to celebrate our love despite a shitty month. I planned to take my wife back to a hotel room reserved for the two of us to make love to her all night. So, tell me, Dee, my dear, faithful friend, do I deserve to be shit on like this, do I?

She just stood there. I turned back to the table.

"So, what do all of you think of this?"

Every one of them averted their eyes. They knew she walked out with Marc.

No one knew what to say until Dave spoke up, "Jim, are you going to be, okay?" Dee sat down beside him, just staring at me.

"No, no, I'm not, on what was supposed to be a night of celebration, of affirmation of our love, I've been made an unwilling cuckold, and your wife helped make that happen."

"Jim," Jane spoke up, "Can't you see your way past this? I mean you and Linda, what about the kids?"

"Exactly, Jane," I snapped. "I had done nothing but love my wife. So, when you all stopped me from interrupting her from dancing with that asshole, I loved her. I loved her right up until she walked out on his arm to go and fuck him on our night, not his, not hers, ours and in Linda and I. So how do you think I'm feeling right now? How do you think my kids will react when they learn at some point in the future that their mother left their father for a night to fuck another man on a night that was about their parents?"

I looked at each of them and then settled my gaze at Dee, glaring at her. Of course, Dee couldn't look at me.

"And I'm sure she's thinking about how much she loves her kids right now. So, tell me, if the prick had singled you out, would you have gone and been thinking about your kids, would you have been worried about what Phil was thinking."

Jane stammered, "Jim, it wouldn't be like that." She avoided looking at her husband, message sent.

Jane then tried to stare me down. "Look, what if it was the other way around? What if there was a fantastic Sports Illustrated model here tonight and she wanted to dance with you then offered to spend the night with you. Can you honestly say you wouldn't be tempted? Would you turn her down?" Jane had always been the motherly figure of the group, trying to be wise and always look at the angels.

"Name a person that would not be tempted," I responded. Jane and Dee sat back and smiled. I continued. "But of course, I would turn her down. I'M MARRIED! And tonight, was supposed to be about affirming love, not tearing it apart." I replied, none of them, now even Jane could meet my eyes.

"You know what, I obviously don't know any of you." I pulled out my wallet and dropped a twenty on the table. "That will pay my tab. I think you can all pay for the slut I came here with tonight." I turned and walked out of the club.

At the door, the bouncer gave me a look. "You going to be okay man?"

I glared at him; he knew. I could guess it happened before. "No," and I kept walking, ignoring his follow-up.

It was cold out, and my anger cooled somewhat on the walk back to the hotel. But, underneath the rage, I felt a deep sense of loss. My best friend had just walked away without a second glance, with nothing but the consideration to have someone stop me from following her. I wondered if Linda would ever feel this pain, or did she even care. She had been my love, my best friend, my life partner, and she had walked out tonight without a word like I was nothing. It wasn't a business trip away from me or a drunken night out. I was right there with her, one moment holding hands and kissing me, then next abandoned.

I walked through the Maddison hotel lobby in a daze, lost in my own thoughts. I caught the elevator up to our floor and got out my room card. I was going to grab my bag, well, the bag with both mine and Linda's stuff, including some new sexy lingerie she bought and wanted to show me. I would just grab the bag and leave. Just as I was about to open the door, I heard a noise. It's one of those noises that you hear in the throes of passion, and I knew the voice. It was the sound of my wife moaning. She was in the middle of an orgasm in the hotel room I had booked just for our romantic night out without the kids.

Linda had brought Marc back to our hotel room.

I must have stood there for just on five minutes before one of the staff came by. "Sir, are you alright?" the guy asked, shaking me out of my reprieve.

"Everyone keeps asking me that tonight, no, I'm not. In there right now is my wife fucking another man."

He gulped. "You're not going to do anything stupid, are you, sir?" he asked.

I looked at him. He must have been nineteen and would have had no chance again if I got physical. I sighed.

"No, not going to do anything stupid." I handed him the room card and just turned and walked away.

As the elevator took me down to the lobby, I was lost, my marriage was over, I was a pathetic cuck of a loser, I must be, I reasoned, my wife dropped me like a ton of bricks and brought her lover back to our hotel room to fuck him. Tears began to fall from my cheeks, and my feet tapped onto the tiled floor of the hotel lobby. My vision became blurry with the tears pouring from my eyes, and I am sure I got more than a stare or two as I walked. I was defeated and had no idea what to do next. I was totally and utterly numbing at that moment to everything going on around me.

From the corner of my mind, the part that was still working was my kids, Linda didn't care about them, so I should. Making a decision, I meandered my way back outside to the cold. I walked, lost in my own personal hell and wasn't paying any attention when everything went black.

[:::: Linda ::::]

I woke the following day in the hotel bed feeling sore and satisfied. Marc had fucked me and ridden me hard, and I must admit that I loved every second of it. He had a chiselled body, his cock was huge, and he knew how to fuck. I must have had a dozen orgasms in our time together.

I turned, and beside me laid Marc. He was still asleep as I rose and went to the bathroom. After seeing to my morning needs, I looked in the mirror. I had that well fucked glow. My hair was a mess, and I even had some remains of Marc's semen on my breasts. He had tried to get me to swallow, but I didn't do that despite him being a force of nature. He also tried to take my ass. Again, he got rebuffed.

I started the shower, and the hot water felt good, my stiffness from sex with Marc being soothed by the hot water. I sighed. The sex had been animalistic and passionate. Marc had seen what he wanted and taken it.

I was interrupted by the shower door opening and Marc stepping in. "Room for another?" he asked. In a few minutes, he was again inside me, making me groan, bringing me to another orgasm. Afterwards, we dressed, and he asked if we could have breakfast downstairs. I giggled as I agreed.

Over breakfast, we got a couple of looks. I was sitting with Marc LaValliere, so it made sense. While we ate, a lot of the talk in the room was of an accident outside the hotel last night. Apparently, some guy had been hit by a hotel shuttle bus. He was severely injured with multiple broken bones and numerous internal injuries. There had been a lot of blood, and witnesses said he appeared in a daze, not seeing the bus as he stepped out right in front of the moving vehicle. No one had any idea who he was, but everyone saw him come out of the hotel.

Marc chuckled. "Poor shmuck, he probably had his girlfriend break up with him and was crying too hard." I laughed too, but something didn't feel right. There was a queasiness that I couldn't shake hearing the reports on the poor guy.

After breakfast, Marc offered to take me home, which I accepted. I guessed that I would have a lot of making up to do to Jim. I could understand he would be upset. Sex with Marc was terrific. I had enjoyed it immensely, but it was a one-time thing, and though great, it was nothing close to the love that Jim gave me. So, I knew I would have to be extra loving to my husband for a little while.

On the ride home, Marc was friendly; we talked, and he laughed. "Linda, I have a lot of one-night stands, but if you ever want a repeat, I'd be happy to entertain you."

He dropped me off at home, and I pulled my suitcase behind me, unlocked the door and walked inside. The house was cold and dark.

"Jim? Jim, I'm home." I was trying to sound my usual self; I didn't want to upset Jim any more than I had. "It's me, the same me as always!" There was no response. I wandered around, and I discovered he wasn't home. Surly after the club, he would have come home?

I called Dee and asked if she knew where Jim was. She told me he blew up at the club and left. No one had heard from him, she said to me in a dismissive tone. Then, she changed the topic "But Linda, how was it, how was spending the night with Marc LaValliere?" Her voice sounded dreamy.

I giggled, "It was great, Dee. He most certainly knows his way around a woman's body. I don't think I have had that many orgasms since my honeymoon!"

Dee laughed, "it sounds incredible, and I have to admit that I'm a little jealous. But you're going to have to suck up to Jim seriously. When he left last night, he was more pissed off than any guy I've ever seen."