Losing Faith

I tried to initiate sex again a couple of times, but Larry rejected my advances. He had some excuse, but I think he was harboring some ill feelings still. I cried a lot over the next two weeks.

While we prepared for the Grand Opening, the amount of work I had to do was overwhelming. That helped me to get my mind off of the problems Larry and I were having. Larry kept showing up at the gallery, unexpectedly. I felt he was checking up on me, spying on me, and trying to catch me doing something wrong. I was on pins and needles.

I had promised Josh that he could put his art on display in our "local talent" room for the opening. I was shocked when he brought in the pieces to show. Most of them featured me! Amanda seemed very jealous that she was not the featured model. She made a couple of snide comments to me about it.

"I guess that's why Josh hasn't had much interest in fucking me lately," she said as she admired a piece that portrayed his cock penetrating my pussy, something which had never happened. "Your husband must have got over the shock of catching you guys pretty quickly. You never told me he was so cool about things. Maybe we should all get together some time. I can do him while Josh does you."

Before I could answer, Josh stepped into the small front room of the gallery. "I like the sound of that," he said, grinning wickedly.

I ignored both of their comments. I was too worried about the display. "Josh, when did you make all of these?" I asked, gesturing at the sculptures of me. "I don't think we should show these. You need to take them out and put ones in of Amanda. I mean, I run this gallery. I can't have my naked body on display like that!"

"Oh, come on, Faith," Josh began arguing, "You're fucking hot, and they turned out so well. I can swap a couple of them out, but I am proud of these pieces."

"If you guys are going to argue, I'm going to go work on the mailing list," Amanda said and excused herself, leaving me alone in the room with Josh.

I pointed at the sculpture that clearly showed his cock penetrating me. "I never posed for that! How could you make that! Everyone is going to think you fucked me!"

"Ok, calm down," he said. "I just wanted to see it. I call the piece Secret Desire. If you're not comfortable with it, I can swap it out."

"Yes, please," I snapped, "If Larry were to see these, I don't know what he would do."

"Alright, alright," he said, giving in, "I will move them today." I heard the chime that sounded whenever the front door opened. I assumed Amanda would greet whoever it was.

"Thank you," I said, "we need to go review the agreement for your show. Do you have time now?"

"Sure," he said, stopping with a shocked look on his face. He was looking toward the door. I turned to see what had his attention and felt a burst of fear again. Larry was standing just inside the entrance to the local talent room. I didn't know how long he had been standing there, but I didn't think it was very long.

"Oh, hi Larry," I said, shaking nervously, but trying to act nonchalant. "Let me introduce you to Josh."

Larry took a deep breath, then shook hands with Josh. He was cordial. I could tell Larry was sizing Josh up, but he seemed to be handling the situation rather well. I explained that in addition to being a model, Josh was an artist and we were featuring his work for the opening.

Larry took an interest in Josh's sculptures and was admiring the one closest to the door. It was the first one of me that Josh had made. It was a close-up model of my open vagina with a model of Josh's cock protruding from inside it. Larry was staring at it closely with a puzzled look on his face.

"Is that modeled after your cock?" my husband asked as he pointed at the large black penis. I felt flush and knew that I was blushing profusely. I had to do something to distract Larry and get the conversation away from the sculptures. Josh started to explain to Larry about how he had made the statue.

"Honey," I interrupted, "Josh and I have some paperwork to finish up in my office for his exhibition. Will you excuse us? I'll be home around seven tonight."

Larry told me he would be leaving soon, and I let out a sigh of relief. As I walked past him, he went to kiss me. It felt like he was trying to show Josh that I belonged to him like I was his property. I didn't like it and turned my head slightly so that his kiss landed on my cheek.

"I'll see you when I get home," I said rather coldly, then walked out. Josh and I went upstairs, and I didn't speak until we were on the stairs. "Fuck, I'm so screwed," I said as I stopped and leaned against the wall. "If Larry sees those sculptures and realizes that it's me, he's going to flip out. I lied to him! I told him you were gay!"

"Oh, shit," Josh said. "So, he has no idea that you modeled for me?"

"No!" I said in a whispery cry, "I couldn't tell him the truth. Oh, my god, Josh! He'll divorce me! I can't lose Larry. I can't lose my marriage! I'd rather die!"

"Come on, Faith," Josh tried to calm me, "don't say shit like that. We can deal with anything that happens."

"No," I corrected him, "You don't know Larry. When he gets something in his mind, it is stuck there. You can't get him to change his mind. If he believes I've cheated on him, he will leave me. I don't know exactly what he would do. What am I going to do?"

"I don't know," Josh answered, shaking his head. Just then we heard a loud crash from out in the showroom.

"Oh shit!" I shouted and started running. Josh was right behind me. I could see Larry backing out of the local talent room with a shocked look on his face.

"What was that noise?" I called out as I closed the distance. Larry was walking like a zombie. He turned to face me. Our eyes met. I could see the pain in them. I could see the hurt turning into rage. Everything around me seemed to disappear. All I could see was Larry. He knew it was me in the statues. He knew I had lied. He was looking at me like I was a slut. In that instant, I felt it. I was lost. I was no longer his wife.

"Larry, wait, please!" I called out frantically, "I can explain!"

He ran out and down the street. I tried to run after him, but collided with a display, sending it toppling over, the glass case shattering. I bolted outside, but he was already at the corner. I screamed for him to stop. People in the streets were looking at me as if I were mad. Maybe I was.

I made it to our house, just as Larry drove past me. I waved my arms wildly, crying out for him to stop. He didn't even look at me. I collapsed on the sidewalk. Amanda and Josh were there. They picked me up and helped me into the house. I called Larry's phone, but he didn't answer. I tried again and again. I texted him. He didn't answer.

"I have to find him!" I shouted, "I have to stop him!"

"Calm down, Faith," Amanda said soothingly. "He'll come back once he cools off. Let him blow off some steam."

"No!" I shouted, "You don't know him! I have to stop him! I can't lose him! I can't!"

I was frantic. I used Amanda's phone to call him. He didn't answer it either. I convinced Amanda to drive, and we went all over trying to find him.

"Maybe he went back home!" I suggested. We returned, but he wasn't there. I called and called, but he didn't answer. After a while, the calls went directly to voicemail.

Amanda stayed with me that night, but I didn't sleep. I was desperate. Morning came and still no word. "I'll die if he leaves me," I said to no one in particular.

"He'll be back," Amanda said. "You'll see. Then we'll all tell him the truth."

"I never cheated!" I said, crying, "I never did!"

"I know," said Amanda, "I'm sorry, Faith. I thought you and Josh had been fucking! I told Larry! I thought he knew."

I was shocked. "You told Larry I fucked Josh?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"I mean, not in those words," she explained, "but, yeah. I said Josh fucks all his models and how I thought it was hot that Larry was okay with you fucking Josh."

I burst into another bout of crying, "Oh, my God. It's over! I've lost him!"

"I'm so sorry, Faith!" Amanda cried out, tears running down her face as she hugged me. "It's my fault!"

"No," I told her, "It's not your fault. It's mine. I didn't cheat but does that matter. I wanted to. I did things a married woman shouldn't do. I wanted things I shouldn't want. I felt things I shouldn't feel. I cheated on him with my heart, my mind. I just didn't do it with my body."

"No!" Amanda cried hugging me tighter, "we will make him understand. You didn't do anything wrong! You didn't cheat! You love Larry and were faithful."

The rest of the day was a blur. I didn't eat. I couldn't sleep. That night I still hadn't heard from Larry. We went looking for him again, to no avail. I was growing despondent and desperate. I wanted to call my daughter, but couldn't bring myself to do it. If I did, I would have to tell her what had happened.

I had a fitful night, tossing and turning, making frequent trips around the property, looking for any sign that Larry had been home. Amanda found me outside as the sun was coming up. I was shivering uncontrollably, from being nearly naked with the temperature in the low forties. She forced me to go with her to a 24-hour emergency room. I got a prescription for Lunesta to help me sleep. I didn't want to get it, but Amanda insisted.

It was Sunday. Larry had left Friday afternoon. I was growing deeper and deeper into depression. The sleeping pills knocked me out, but when I woke up, I didn't feel any better. I felt worse than before. I was groggy and disoriented, which only added to my frustration and sadness. Sunday evening bled into Monday morning with still no word.

I woke up at one point on Monday and saw a voicemail on my phone. I grabbed it and played it back. It was Larry. He sounded incredibly drunk. He slurred his words so badly I could not understand half of what he said. I heard the word "slut" several times and the word "divorce" twice. I broke down again. I tried to return his call, but it went directly to voicemail every time.

I thought about calling the police and reporting him missing but didn't. What good would that do? I took more of the pills and passed out. I came to hours later, and someone was pounding on the front door. I got up unsteadily and made my way to the door. I opened it, and some young guy was standing there. He gave me a strange look. I must have looked like hell. I'd not bathed or even brushed my hair in over two days.

"Are you Faith Mitchell?" he asked, holding something in his hands. Groggily, I nodded.

He shoved a large manilla envelope in my hands and said softly, almost apologetically, "You've been served, ma'am." As I tore open the envelope, I didn't even see him leaving. I stood in the doorway, and saw the forms read the words at the top "petition for divorce."

"No, Larry, please," I cried out as I slumped to the floor.

At some point, I started drinking. I felt an overwhelming sadness. It was as if every cell in my body was in pain and crying out for relief. I sat, staring at the papers, shaking my head and finished off another glass of Larry's ale. My head was hurting badly. I was having difficulty thinking. I took another sleeping pill and rinsed it down with a fresh glass of beer.

I had destroyed my marriage. My life had been perfect. Now it was shit. Larry was divorcing me. I looked at the papers again. I could see his signature.

"Oh, Larry," I cried, "you can't leave me. I have nothing left. You're my whole life."

I felt something in my other hand. I looked down to see that I was clutching the bottle of pills. I saw the yellow warning label on the side. I hurt Larry. I betrayed him. It didn't matter that I'd never had sex with Josh. It didn't matter that the only person I'd ever fucked was Larry. He didn't believe me. He thought I was a slut.

I played his voicemail again and again. Slut. Divorce. Slut. Divorce. Slut.

I staggered to my feet and reeled across the room and out the side door. I walked past the brewhouse, the empty garage. I tottered drunkenly through the wooded lot and down the back street. A few minutes later I was in the alley behind the Faith Mitchell Gallery. I unlocked the back door and stumbled through the displays to the local artist room.

I saw my tits on display in porcelain, with a black cock touching them as sperm sprayed onto their cold, stone-like surface. I smashed the crowbar into it, shattering it into a million jagged pieces. I turned and saw my cunt, open and hungry as Josh's big, black cock penetrated it. "Never fucking happened," I mumbled as I brought the steel down over and over destroying the sculpture.

I winced as I stepped on broken shards, but kept swinging the crowbar, smashing every one of the fake depictions of sex that had never happened. Finally satisfied, I dropped the crowbar and fell to my knees. It was over. My marriage. My happiness. My life.

I crawled across the floor, trying to make my way upstairs. I was exhausted. I made it about halfway down the hall and gave up. I lay there thinking of my Larry. I took the top off of the bottle of pills.

I heard Larry.

Slut.

Divorce.

I raised the bottle and poured the pills in my mouth and tried to swallow them. I don't know how many went in my belly and how many fell on the floor. I emptied the bottle and shook it trying to get out more.

Slut.

Divorce.

"I'm sorry, Larry," I mumbled.

"Oh my God, Mom!" came a voice I knew from somewhere, a female voice. I tried to focus, but it was too difficult. I felt movement, and someone took my hand gently. I felt another shift, and someone took ahold of my other hand in a firm, manly grip.

I opened my eyes a little. There was a bright light, and I could hear voices. I blinked several times, trying to clear my vision. I felt sick and exhausted. I fought the need to go back to sleep. My eyesight cleared just enough to see one of the people holding my hand. It was my daughter Tina. I tried to smile at her. I had missed her so much.

Someone else was here, behind Tina. I shifted my gaze and saw Larry. I began to cry and tried to speak, but my mouth was dry and cracked, and words would not come out.

Tina shushed me. "Don't try to talk," she said, scolding me softly, she was crying too. She didn't want me to speak, but I had to! I needed to tell Larry I was sorry! I needed him to know the truth. I never cheated on him! I loved him! He was my everything!

I shook my head and was able to get out "No! I need to tell you!" I don't think they understood me or could hear me as my voice was so weak and broken. I looked into my husband's eyes, pleading with him to understand, overwhelmed by sorrow and remorse.

He stared at me, and his face showed pity, not love.

"It's okay, Faith," he said, squeezing my hand. It looked like he was trying not to cry. "We can talk tomorrow. You need to rest. I'm not going anywhere."

When I heard his words, I felt overpowering relief. He wasn't going anywhere. I cried more, tears of joy and tears of hope. But, it was not enough. I needed him to understand. I tried to speak, but it came out a jumbled mess. I tried to say "I did not do it! I did not cheat on you with Josh!" But, all he heard was "Don't do it!".

I guess he thought I meant the divorce. "No, baby, it's okay," Larry said, "I won't do it. I won't divorce you."

I was so happy to hear what he said, but I needed to tell him the truth. I asked Tina to give me water. She did, and it helped.

"No," I whispered, trying to tell him that I was not talking about the divorce. "No divorce."

When he repeated my words back at me, I felt incredibly frustrated. "NO!" I tried to shout, but it just came out a harsh whisper. I yelled as loud as I could, "I never cheated!" All that came out was "Never!" I shook in frustration.

Tears started flowing from Larry's face. He didn't understand me. I desperately needed him to hear me.

"Yes, honey, never," Larry said, his voice shaking as he tried not to cry, "I'll never leave you!"

"No!" I yelled. He seemed surprised. My voice was much louder now. I pressed on trying to get it out. I yelled each word. "I never cheated on you!"

He heard me that time. I could see the look of disbelief on his face. The anger came back. He thought I was lying, again.

"What?" Larry said, his mouth falling open, "What? You were fucking Josh! I saw the sculptures! He only does those of women he fucks! Amanda told me!"

I shook her head violently, "NO! NO! NO!" I spoke slowly, deliberately, one word at a time. "I. Only. Posed. No. Sex. Never! Only! You!" He had to understand. He had to believe me.

I could tell he was struggling with what I told him. "But, Amanda said," he started. I interrupted him.

"Fuck Amanda!" I shouted, "I never cheated! I swear!" I was overcome with sobbing and struggled to keep speaking, "Please, believe me!"

Larry stared into my eyes. I willed him with all my heart and love. Believe me! Believe me! Believe me! He leaned down and wrapped his arms around me. He kissed me on the cheek.

"I believe you! I believe you!" he said, crying against me. "I'm so sorry!"

"I told you she didn't fuck him!" Tina yelled and slapped her father on his back.

Chapter 6

Larry and Tina insisted that I rest. I reluctantly agreed, but when I woke up a few hours later, I had to admit that the rest did wonders for me. I was able to sit up and drink a little. Larry told me that Josh and Amanda had come by while I was out. I looked nervously at Larry, but he smiled and kissed my hand.

"They told me everything," he said.

"Everything?" I asked. I was afraid what that meant, but I was determined to tell the truth to Larry and never hide anything from him again.

"Yes, I believe it is everything," he replied. "How you all had become friends and how you watched them working on his sculptures." He paused so his words should sink in. I blushed.

"Including how much it turned you on," Larry continued. "But, they also told me how you didn't give in to your desires. I'll be honest with you. I don't know if I would have had your willpower to resist that level of temptation."

I couldn't look him in the eyes and stared at my hands.

"I'm proud that you did resist," he offered after a few minutes. "That tells me you really do love me. I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me everything that was going on from the start."

"I'm sorry, Larry," I apologized, "I was embarrassed and ashamed to tell you. I should not have kept it from you, and I shouldn't have lied to cover it up."

"No, you shouldn't have," he agreed with me. "But, I see how it happened. Even though it never went too far, you were afraid the truth would hurt me, and so you told one lie. That lead to another and another. That's the problem with lies. They breed rapidly."

I nodded. "Can you ever forgive me?" I asked, raising my eyes to meet his gaze. This time, I saw love in them, not pity. He smiled.

"I already have," he said. "Don't ever do that again. In the future, you can and should tell me anything. I will never judge you badly if you tell me what you want, what you do. I don't know that I would have liked it, at the time, but we could have discussed it."

I nodded. I knew Larry was right.

"Who knows?" he said, chuckling softly, "I might have been open to experimenting with you."

I grinned at him. "That would have saved us a lot of trouble," I admitted.

"Under the circumstances," he began, "I hope you understand that I had to tell Josh that his sculptures, well, what's left of them after you got through with them, were not welcome in your gallery and that he would need to find a new place for his studio."

"Yes," I said, "I agree. Josh was trying his hardest to seduce me into fucking him. He nearly succeeded. He knew I was married and didn't care. That's not the kind of friend I want in my life."