Is Life Better If We Never Met?

Aaron walked away from his testimony in shackles. He was never escorted by fewer than three guards as they brought them back to his cell. His trial had been over a decade ago, and the United States government was harsh in their punishment. They'd told him death was too quick, mere prison too good for him. They kept Aaron in isolation, suspended from the ceiling, his wrists and ankles elevated, as he hovered motionless, watching a blank wall.

Days might have been weeks, or even years. At first he had human interaction whenever a small woman came in to feed him, but that gave way to a feeding tube. He hung suspended, his muscles deteriorated and withered, wondering if he'd ever see another human face, when an echoey knock rang at the steel door.

"Mr. Drake," a booming voice said. The man that walked in wore full military honors, and his hair was graying. His jaw was chiseled by Michelangelo himself, and when he looked at Aaron, the knowing smile sent a shiver up his spine, "Meagan's been found."

The man leaned against the concrete wall and let himself laugh an evil little laugh. He took his time admiring Aaron. He stared at how long Aaron's beard had gotten, how black his fingers had turned with a decade of unwashed dust.

"She goes by Erin now, funny enough," the old man cracked, "But get this."

The man took slow crashing steps towards Aaron, and knelt so they were staring eye-to-eye, "Not only," he said, chewing something while he spoke, "Are you a treasonous bastard. You're a dumbass."

The man roared his head back in laughter. He took a moment to compose himself, then reached out his hand and rested it on Aaron's back.

"You were so convinced she still wanted to be with other men, you literally stripped her of her memory of you to prove it, but you know what?" the man asked, "She settled down anyway. She met this man named Jack, and they've been trying. All she ever wanted was a family, and you fucked up your own life trying to give her the opposite."

The man gave another laugh, and when he looked back at Aaron, his eyes were wet, "You have to admit it's funny. No?"

The man gave a great sigh, then sat back against the wall, "No matter," he said, "But I will say this. We ain't gonna hurt her. Like you said in your testimony, she's an innocent woman, that just wants to live a family life. She hasn't done anything wrong."

Aaron tried to spin away, but the harness swung him back to face the old man.

"I should also say," the military man continued, "That it was a lovely testimony, but I must admit, I actually laughed a little bit at that too. You actually admitted, in a court of law, that you loved hearing about the other men your wife fucked?"

Aaron tried to speak, but his entire body was so weak, he could barely make a sound.

"We're gonna keep an eye on her, of course, just to make sure there aren't any instruments," the old man said, "But it gave me an idea. You must be so damn bored down here, why not give you what you want? Why not show you all about what your wife's up to? Terry, hit the projector."

The concrete wall that Aaron had spent a decade studying every crack and chip came to life with a video screen. It was a quiet suburban house at first, shuffling through cameras until they found a man, lying naked on the bed.

"Mr. Drake," the old man said, "You have a nice life."

The door swung shut, and Aaron had no choice but to watch the screen. He saw the way Meagan danced into frame, dressed in cupless lingerie.

"We finally got the house to ourselves," the man in the video said.

Meagan gave the scrunched up smile, one of pure happiness. It was a smile Aaron thought she only had for him. He watched while the man pulled down her panties. By the time he buried his head between her legs, working his tongue up and down her pussy, Aaron felt the tears start to fall.

He watched, as Meagan turned and fell back to the bed. He saw the man's ass as he climbed on top and started to thrust. The camera showed every detail. Aaron saw the way Meagan's painted toes curled. He saw the way her hair bounced and how she couldn't decide what to do with her hands. They sometimes settled high above her head, other times clawed at the man's back, or cupped her own breast.

Aaron watched as the man finished and rolled to the side. He saw the way cum dribbled from her pussy, and as he sat there watching, a lone thought circled around his head, I wish someone would erase my memory.