Forgive and Forget?

Finishing up around 3 o'clock he went to have a shower and get changed before putting his plan into effect.

It was twenty minutes before six when he slipped cautiously into the bar that Clayton always took his staff to for their Friday drinks. He needn't have worried about being seen, the place was crowded and the staff of McMillan & Henderson were all situated towards the back of the pub.

Sidling up to the bar he stayed hidden amongst the general crowd and, after ordering himself a beer, tried to locate his wife. It took him a few moments but he soon caught sight of her standing next to her boss, both of them had their backs to him, while Clayton's hand rested intimately on his wife's pert round arse.

Stepping back a little to ensure he couldn't be seen he watched them for the next half-an-hour.

It was quickly obvious that Stephanie wasn't intending to leave and try to make it home by seven as she had promised. Her much older boss was busy running his hands all over her, squeezing her rear, tracing his fingers over the back of her thighs and occasionally up her back, all without a word of protest from her. The only occasion he removed his hand was when one of their work colleagues came over to speak to them.

He was just considering whether or not to confront them when Clayton leaned in to whisper something in his wife's ear. She nodded and smiled before allowing him to put his hand in the small of her back to guide her out of the rear door of the pub.

Totally stunned by what he had witnessed Rob just stared after them as two of the pompous arseholes Steph worked with ambled up to the bar next to him. If they recognised him they gave no hint of it and, waiting alongside him, continued their conversation.

"I see old man Clayton's gonna be getting his regular helping of Friday pussy."

They both laughed, clearly having no idea who they were standing next to.

"Can't say I blame him though." The other one commented, "I wouldn't kick her out of bed either. She's got an arse to die for."

His colleague chuckled, "You can see why he takes her on all his business trips. He must be shagging her brains out while her husband ain't got a clue."

"Stupid bastard should've kept her locked up. I would have."

The two of them laughed again as they ordered a round of drinks and Rob had to turn away before his anger got the better of him and he said something.

'He had been right. His wife was cheating on him.'

It was official, and it appeared everyone where she worked knew it as well.

He put down his glass and walking away he pushed through the people around him before stumbling out into the fresh air. Suddenly a feeling of nausea gripped him and he bent over, his hand on the wall, as he emptied the contents of his stomach onto the pavement.

Gasping for air he retched again and then slowly stood upright, still holding onto the wall for support.

'How long had it been going on?'

'What had he done to drive her into another man's arms?'

'Had she ever really loved him?'

Numerous questions flooded his mind during his slow drive home, none of which he could find any answers to.

Back at the house, determined to confront her, he poured himself a drink and, setting the glass on the table in front of him, he sat down to wait for Stephanie to arrive.

"Hey babe. Sorry I'm late." She called out cheerfully as she came through the front door shortly after eight o'clock.

Rob said nothing and just stared calmly at the woman he loved and wondered how she could appear so normal when she had just been fucking another man.

The longer he paused the more she became unsettled by his cold gaze, shifting uneasily from foot to foot.

"Are you ok hon? Has something happened?"

Studying her he noticed the things he had obviously missed before; her hair was a little out of place, her cheeks were a little more flushed than usual and she seemed more nervous than she should be.

"How long have you been fucking Clayton Henderson?" His tone was curt and to the point.

"What... I... I'm not doing anything with Clayton.... We talked about this, remember?" His wife blustered, a deeper flush appearing on her cheeks, "Why would you say something like that?"

"Don't lie to me Steph, please. I went to the bar tonight. I saw you and... and that douche bag together."

Somehow Rob stayed calm and composed despite the anger boiling up inside him.

"I don't believe you. You're just trying to make me say something that isn't true."

"His hands were all over you. I stood at the bar and watched the two of you. Then you left together sometime after six." Ignoring her comment, he continued on.

"I... we... we..."

"You obviously didn't leave to come home and then I overheard two of your so-called colleagues talking about how Clayton was getting his regular helping of Friday pussy."

Stephanie's face turned pale and she started to hyper-ventilate as her eyes clouded over and the tears began to trickle down her cheeks.

"How long?"

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it...." She gasped for breath and stammered.

"How long?" He yelled at her now, "How.... Fucking.... Long?"

She sniffled and looked at him, "How... how long what?"

"How long has this been going on Steph. When did you start fucking the slime bag."

"It isn't what it seems Rob... I... I did it for you... for us."

He laughed out loud at her comment, "Don't feed me some more bullshit, just answer the question."

"Since... since we... we went to Edinburgh." Sobbing now she stared at her feet and stumbled over her answer, "When we had to finalise the... the contract. That was the... the first time."

"Fuck it, that's nearly two months. You've been cheating on me for all that fucking time?"

"I..."

"Did he screw you tonight?" He interrupted whatever she was going to say.

"Rob..."

"Answer me. Did... He... Fuck... You... Tonight?" Annunciating each word clearly he spat out his question.

Staring miserably at the floor she nodded, unable to look him in the eye, her cheeks streaked with her tears.

"Does he make you come?" Rob demanded angrily.

"Please baby... it was just sex... it doesn't mean anything."

"It does to me." His voice rose several decibels, "Does he make you come when he fucks you?"

"Rob..." She pleaded again.

"Fuck it Steph, tell me. Does he make you cum?"

"Y... yes." Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

"Do you give him oral sex? Do you kiss him? When you're away on business with him do you stay in his bed after you've had sex?"

"Yes." She blubbed, "Yes we...."

He snorted, "You're making love with him not fucking, you cheating slut."

With that final retort he turned on his heel and headed up the stairs.

"Rob, please... can't we talk? Please baby." She hurried after him sobbing almost uncontrollably.

Reaching their bedroom, he pulled out two large holdalls and started to empty some of his clothes into them.

"What... what are you doing. Where are you going?"

"We're done talking. I'll find a hotel for a couple of nights and see a solicitor first thing on Monday." Rob didn't bother to look up from his packing.

"Solicitor!" Stephanie gasped her heart starting to pound frantically in her chest, "You... you can't... I love you. I did it for you. You have to believe me."

"Bollocks Steph!" He glared angrily at her, "Even if I accepted that as an excuse for the first time you did it, you went and carried on doing the horizontal tango because you fucking liked it."

"Please... I love you... please."

"I'm done. You'll hear from my solicitor."

Picking up his bags he shoved roughly past her, ignoring his wife as she slumped to the floor wailing. Slamming the front door behind him the last sounds he heard as it closed were of Stephanie, upstairs, crying hysterically.

He had been in the car for barely ten minutes when his phone rang for the first time, the screen informing him that his wife was calling.

Glancing at it momentarily he ignored it and concentrated on driving.

A minute later his mobile pinged indicating that a message had arrived.

Knowing who it was likely to be he picked it up to look at what she had sent.

'Rob. I'm so sorry. Please come back so we can talk. Please. I love you.'

Throwing the phone aside he ignored her text and the following half a dozen messages and calls that followed in quick succession. Then, fed up with hearing it ring, he simply turned his mobile off and the radio up.

He didn't know where he was going and just kept driving until, an hour or more from the house, he spotted a hotel ahead of him and decided to pull over.

Checking in to the Holiday Inn he threw his bags onto the bed and got his phone out of his pocket, turning it on.

There were more than a dozen missed calls from his wife, along with numerous text messages, all of which he deleted. However, in amongst them were three calls from Stephanie's parents and, much to his surprise, a couple from his.

His next task was to block Steph's number. Even if he had to speak to her at some point in the future there was no way he wanted anything to do with her at the moment. The way he was feeling he was likely to say something he might regret later when the solicitors got involved.

Blocking her parents was more difficult for him. He had always got on well with John and Margaret Franscombe, they had treated him like a son they never had and he almost gave in and phoned them. Then he had a moment of clarity, knowing they would be phoning on Steph's behalf, and resisted.

His own parents though were a different matter and, with a sigh of resignation, he tapped in their number to speak to them.

His mother picked up after the first ring.

"Rob! What on earth is going on? We've had Stephanie on the phone, in floods of tears."

"We've split up. She's been having an affair with her boss so I'm divorcing her." He told her being as succinct as he could.

"Oh Rob, no. Can't you patch things up with her?" Was Joan Carver's immediate response, "You two are so well suited."

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. It was the sort of comment he expected from his mother.

"No, mum. I can't. She's made her bed."

For the next twenty minutes they talked about what he was going to do as she tried to persuade him to come and stay with them. It was an offer he resisted; he didn't want to be anywhere Stephanie could find him and there was only so much of his mother's sympathy that he could take right now.

"Please don't tell her where I am." He asked as he started to close the call, "I need some time."

"You really should talk to her you know. You can't sort this out by yourself."

"There's nothing left to sort out but I will speak to her when I'm ready mum, but not now."

They said their goodbyes and finished with him promising to call her again the following day before he turned his phone off.

Suddenly, sitting on the bed in a featureless hotel room, he looked around and wanted a drink.

An hour later, showered and changed, Rob was sat down at the hotel bar nursing a tumbler of Jack Daniel's and contemplating the rest of his life. Lost in his thoughts he was completely unaware of anyone else around him.

"Care to buy a girl a drink?" A busty blonde in a very tight dress and far too much make-up slid up on to the stool next to him, "It's been a quiet night."

He glanced across at her, "Sure but if you're looking for business hon, you're wasting your time with me."

"Having a bad day?" She looked at Rob quizzically.

"The worst you can imagine."

He snorted and took a large swallow to finish his drink before ordering himself another from the barman and telling him to by his new friend whatever she wanted.

"G & T please, ice and lemon."

"I'm Rob by the way." He added turning back to her.

"Bridgette." She smiled, "I guess she really did a number on you then?"

"What makes you say it's a woman." He asked her as her gin and tonic arrived.

Picking up her glass Bridgette took a sip and chuckled, "In my experience honey the only thing that can make a man look as miserable as you do is a woman."

"You should be a psychologist... you'd make a fortune."

She grinned, "Thanks, but I kind of like what I do."

"I'm sure you do."

"Thanks for the gin hon but I need to go earn my living." Sliding off her stool the blonde picked up her drink, "But a word of advice from someone who knows. Forgive and forget... that's all it takes. If you want to move on or back just remember, the choice is yours."

With those final words Bridgette headed across the bar and sat down next to a lone male, immediately engaging him in conversation, leaving Rob to finish his drink before going up to bed.

Laying there waiting for sleep to come he thought back over what the whore had said to him in the bar.

'Forgive and forget.'

He wasn't sure that he would ever do either.

_______________________

Monday morning came around quickly enough and Rob's first task of the day was to find himself a solicitor to start divorce proceedings.

Not having anyone he could ask for advice he simply used the internet and by lunchtime he had engaged an older woman by the name of Annette Fielding, who seemed to be very efficient.

Leaving all the details with her so she could get the ball rolling he went back to the hotel and his room. Sitting there staring at his laptop he tried to find the motivation to start the day's work. As much as he didn't want to admit it to himself he was still very much in love with his wife despite of what she had done.

'What was she doing now?'

'Was she fucking Clayton?'

'What about Henderson's wife? Should he tell her about their affair?'

He was still sitting staring aimlessly at the blank screen when his phone rang.

"Hi, mum."

"You didn't ring me yesterday Robert. I was worried about you?" She chastised him.

She only called him by his full name when she was annoyed with him.

"Sorry, I needed some time to think."

"Have you spoken to Stephanie yet?"

"No, I haven't. Not since I walked out Friday night."

"That poor girl is going out of her mind with worry. She phoned me again just now, crying her eyes out over you."

"I'm sorry mum but this is all down to her. She's the one who was fucking her boss."

"Robert! Language." Joan Carver sounded outraged.

"Sorry mum, I'm busy with work, I have to go. Please don't tell her where I am."

Without waiting for a reply, he disconnected the call and, sighing with resignation, he opened his laptop.

Trying to put all thoughts of Stephanie out of his mind Rob threw himself into work. Despite his problems and his desperate need to sign up a major customer he still had a number of smaller client's systems to oversee and maintain.

Settling into work he found his week becoming more and more frantic as the days went by but he was only partially successful in occupying his time. Most evenings he sat alone in the hotel bar, miserable, and desperately missing his wife.

Apart from spending time on his business he had a further couple of sessions with Annette, his solicitor, to agree the main points of the divorce. Having little to split between them; their house had been rented, all they had was a couple of thousand in terms of savings and both he and Stephanie owned their own cars.

When they had finished after the second meeting she told him that with all that in mind there should be nothing to hold up the process unless his wife objected.

He had also managed to find an affordable small one-bedroom, fully furnished, apartment to rent and moved out of the hotel on the Friday.

Getting himself settled in during the morning he switched on his laptop after lunch to do a couple of hours work when he saw the e-mail from George Jacobs.

Immediately puzzled about why he was contacting him after turning his initial proposal down and going with another company, he opened it. Reading it through to the end he went back to the start and re-read it, not sure if he could believe what it said.

Apparently the company that Jacob's had originally chosen had completely fallen down on their first task and he now wanted Rob to take over the project.

It was a major breakthrough for his fledgling business and for the next month or so he found himself working 12 plus hours a day, seven days a week.

It proved to be a blessing in disguise for him, taking his mind away from Stephanie and his impending divorce. With his hugely increased workload Rob also needed to find and equip a small office and, at the same time, take on his first two members of staff.

Starting with the bank he arranged a business loan and then quickly found suitable premises. After that it was interviewing and recruiting an administrator and a young technician to assist him.

Amber Stoddart was his first employee. The 48-year-old widow was looking to get back into employment after her husband had died two years previously and, sympathetic to her story, Rob immediately offered her the job as his office manager.

Later the same day he took on Chad Barlow. Fresh out of university and a total computer geek he seemed perfect for the position Rob had in mind.

Days turned into weeks and the weeks into months as, after getting his first large contract, Rob soon landed another major client. Forced to expand his workforce again, he had to employ two more technicians to support all of his customers while still working flat out himself.

Being incredibly busy he had little time for a personal life, not that he was looking to start dating. His female interaction comprised almost solely of a little mild flirting with Amber, his office manager, and the occasional telephone conversation with his mother.

Fortunately, much to his relief, she stopped mentioning his soon to be ex-wife whenever they spoke on the phone. He missed Stephanie more than he cared to admit and knew getting over her was going to take a long time, if he managed it at all.

The wheels of justice turned incredibly slowly for Rob and it was more than six months before he finally received his decree absolute. Opening the letter he read through the contents, his heart numb as he realised his marriage to the only woman he had ever loved was over.

Staring at the sheet of paper in his hand he barely heard Amber when she spoke to him from the doorway.

"Everything ok Rob?"

"What.... oh yeah... it's all... umm.... all good."

Despite being more than twenty years older than him Rob had always found Amber to be an attractive, if somewhat reserved, woman. Of medium height, she had short dark hair cut in a bob style, brown eyes and a curvaceous figure with plump full breasts.

Somehow though, she managed to intimidate him, especially when they flirted and he always felt a little tongue tied around her.

"Don't try to fool me Rob, I can see somethings up." She stood with her hand on her hip and gave him an enquiring look.

He didn't answer and simply threw the letter on the desk for her to pick up and read.

"Ah, I guess it's all done then." She stated flatly as she put the papers back down after she had finished with them.

"Yeah, I err... I suppose it is."

Amber frowned at him, "Tell me, when was the last time you had a night out?"

Rob shrugged, "I've no idea. Probably a month ago."

"Bullshit, I can't remember you saying you were going on a date or out with friends since I started here." She bluntly confronted him.

"Ok, it was more than a month ago."

"That's settled then, you and me are going out after work to have a couple of drinks tonight. No arguments."

"I'm too busy. I've got a lot of things to do."

"Yes you have, to have a few drinks with me."

He just shook his head and smiled knowingly, "I'm not gonna win this one, am I?"