Professional Realtor - His Story

I got to the hospital and went inside. Walking to the courtesy counter, I identified myself to the middle-aged lady behind the desk and gave her my wife's name as the patient. She looked Marissa up on her computer and turned to another lady next to her.

"Could you please escort Mr. Watson to the ICU, please?" she asked.

"Sure," the other woman said before looking at me. She came around the counter and indicated that I should follow her, so I did. We went upstairs to the ICU and I was met by a uniformed police officer.

"Mr. Watson?" he asked.

"That's me," I said.

"I'm Officer Simpson. I'm the one who responded to the report of your wife's accident," he said.

"What happened?" I asked.

"She was going through the intersection of Third and Main when she was hit by a truck. The other driver was drunk, ran a red light and struck her vehicle on the driver's side. I'm sorry," he said.

"That's alright," I said.

"Her car has been taken to a wrecking yard. There's not a whole lot left of it," he said, handing me a card for the wrecking company. "If there's anything I can do, feel free to call."

"Thank you, officer," I said, taking his card. After he left, a man in a white medical smock came up to me.

"Greg Watson?" he asked.

"Yes?" I asked.

"I'm Doctor Blake. I'm the physician in charge of your wife's treatment. Can we speak for a bit, please?"

"Sure," I said. He led me to a small room, closed the door and sat at a chair in front of a small round table. I sat in another chair across from him. "How is my wife?" I asked.

"She's got a number of broken bones and there were quite a few internal injuries. She also took a pretty bad blow to the head. We've got her in a medically-induced coma to help her heal. There's something else, though. Did you know your wife has gonorrhea?"

"Yes, I found out the hard way this morning," I said.

"And I take it you're getting treated for that?" he asked.

"Yes," I said.

"Good. But that's not all. Our initial tests indicate she might be HIV-positive. We've sent for a full workup on her blood, but it'll take several days, if not weeks, to get results back. Have you been tested for HIV?"

"Not that I know of," I said. "They took blood when I went to the Urgi-Care this morning, but I don't know if they tested for that."

"I suggest you see your primary care physician as soon as possible. Tomorrow would be good. The sooner you get tested, the better. If either or both of you do test positive, you should discuss it with your doctor. Generally speaking, as long as you practice safe sex and take your medications, you should still be able to have a fairly normal sex life," he said.

"That's not going to happen, doc," I said.

"I... see," he said.

"How long will she be in a coma?" I asked.

"That depends on her," he said. "It could be ten days to two weeks. Depending on how fast she heals, she could be here a while after that."

"Can I see her now?" I asked.

"Of course," he said. "She could really use your support right about now." I chuckled to myself at that. He got up and opened the door. "She's in room five, right over there," he added, pointing to her door.

"Thanks, doctor," I said, shaking his hand. I walked in to her room and looked at her. She was covered in bandages and a cast covered one leg all the way to her hip. Her face was black and blue and there were several cuts that had been stitched up. She looked like she had been through a war zone. I offered a prayer for her, then slipped off my ring.

I pulled out the envelope with the pictures and wrote her name on the front. Then I put my ring inside and sealed it shut. I looked at the nurse tending to her.

"Could you please see to it that she gets this when she wakes up?" I asked.

"Of course," the nurse said. "Go ahead and put it on the tray right over there," she added, pointing to an empty wheeled tray.

"Thanks," I said, placing it on the tray so Marissa could see it. I took one last look at the woman on the bed. As much as I hated what she had done, I didn't want to see her like this. I saw she still had her rings on, so I removed them and put them in my pocket. "Goodbye, Marissa," I said quietly. "I'll see you later." The nurse looked at me funny as I walked out of the room.

I called Loretta on my way home from the hospital to bring her up to speed on everything. She was shocked when I told her what happened and what the doctor told me.

"Greg, you know Frank won't let her stay here if she's HIV-positive," she said. "I know it'll be safe, but he won't want her around the kids. I can't go against him on that." Her parents had retired a few years ago and had moved to Florida, so that was out of the question.

"I guess I'll need to find her an apartment then," I said.

"I think that would be best," she said. "I'm sorry, Greg, but I'm not going to put her over my family. She made her bed, she can wallow in it for all I care. When you find something, I'll help you move her things, but then I'm washing my hands of her."

"I understand," I said. "I don't blame you."

"It's getting late and I need to go to bed, but keep me in the loop, Greg," she said.

"I will," I told her. "Thanks."

It was nearly midnight when I got home. Exhausted, I undressed and collapsed in the bed, falling asleep almost as soon as my head hit the pillow.

I woke up the next morning and called the doctor's office to make an appointment for later that day. I was mildly surprised when they told me they had an opening for later that morning. Then I called my parents and filled them in on what had happened. They were shocked to hear of her accident, and the possibility she might be HIV-positive, but said they would take the girls to the hospital if they wanted to see her.

I also told them about the evidence I had been given. Dad asked me to forward it to his email address.

"It's pretty bad," I told him.

"That's okay, son," he said. "I'm a big boy." After I forwarded the email, I called Gina to update her. She was also shocked, but said that would give her time to "fine-tune" the divorce papers. Then I called Marissa's office to let them know about her accident. They gave me their condolences and promised to stop by and see her.

The next two weeks were hectic ones. I managed to find a two-bedroom ground-floor apartment with an attached garage, so I put a deposit on it and paid two months worth of rent in advance -- all from Marissa's half of our account. The girls and Loretta came by and helped pack all of Marissa's things, including our wedding album, and we took them to the apartment.

I also got the report from the DNA lab and was happy to learn that both girls really are mine. I couldn't help but smile at that. I met with the insurance man and he looked over Marissa's car. I couldn't help but wonder how she managed to survive the accident. The insurance man said the same thing. He ended up totaling the car. Since the car and the insurance policy was in her name, she would get the check. I pulled her stuff out of the car and took it to her apartment.

"Have you been by to see Marissa?" Mom asked a week after her accident.

"No, I haven't," I said. "At least not since that first day. Why?"

"I was just wondering," she said.

"She made it pretty clear she doesn't care for any of us and wants an escape. I'm giving her what she wants. Just not on her timetable," I said.

Two weeks after that fateful Monday, I went to see the doctor. I had been cleared of the gonorrhea Marissa had given me, but the doctor was still waiting to see if she had also given me something worse. The pain in my groin had dissipated to almost nothing, but the emotional pain I felt in my heart would take a very long time to heal. I called Alan and told him I would be back to work the next day, which made him quite happy.

That same day, I got a call from the hospital telling me Marissa had finally woken up from her induced coma. The nurse who called said they were taking tests and examining her and suggested I come see her late that afternoon. That worked fine for me.

I called Gina and told her the news. She had filed the divorce papers with the court, and we were both waiting for Marissa to wake up so she could be served. She arranged to have the process server meet me at the hospital that afternoon. My next call was to Loretta, who agreed to meet me at her room. I told the girls their mother had woken up, but they simply shrugged their shoulders, saying, "whatever."

"I'm going to see her this afternoon. Do you want to come with me?" I asked them.

"No, thanks, Dad," Lisa said. "I'm too mad at her right now."

"Me too," Ginger said. "Besides, I have a lot of homework to do."

"Alright. I'll take you over to your grandparents when I leave, then," I said. I knew this would be harder on them than me, and I didn't want to force them to see their mother if they didn't want to. About 4:30, I took them to Mom and Dad's house and explained that Marissa had woken up and I would be meeting Loretta and the process server there.

"Let us know how it goes, son," Dad said.

"I will," I said. "I'll be back by to get the girls when I'm done."

"Good, then you can eat some of your mother's lasagna when you get here," he said with a smile. Mom's lasagna was the stuff of legend, and was guaranteed to lift my spirits.

"Sounds good," I said before I left. When I got to the hospital, I went to the ward where Marissa was being cared for. I saw Loretta by the nurse's station, talking to the doctor and I spotted a man in a tan jacket not too far away, holding a manila envelope. No doubt, the process server. I went to the nurse's station and spoke to the doctor.

"How is she," I asked.

"She's awake, and her vitals look good," he said. "The antibiotics we had her on have done their work, and we're just keeping an eye on things. She seems to be healing up nicely. Nevertheless, I want to keep her here for another week, but I think she can go home after that."

"Good," I said. "Can she have visitors?"

"Yes, but not for too long," he said.

"I won't be here long," I told him. He nodded his head in understanding. Loretta and I headed for her room and the process server joined us. Marissa looked up when we walked in. I saw that she had opened the envelope I left the first day here.

"Hello, Greg. Loretta," she said quietly.

"Marissa," I said in response. Loretta said nothing. Marissa looked at me sadly before speaking.

"I take it you've found out," she said, pointing to the envelope.

"I have," I told her.

"So, did you have me followed or something? How did you find out?" she asked.

"You gave me your disease," I said. "That's how I found out. And yes, I had you followed after that. I have pictures, video and audio. More than enough to prove adultery." I looked at the process server and nodded my head. He looked at Marissa before speaking.

"Are you Marissa Watson?" he asked.

"Yes," she said quietly. He handed her the envelope and took a picture.

"You've been served," he said before walking out.

"You couldn't even wait until I was out of the hospital to have me served?" Marissa asked.

"Nope," I said. "You're the one who wanted to escape. I just moved your timetable up a few years."

"Do the girls know?" she asked in response.

"Yes, they do," I told her. "And they're not too fond of you right now. That's why they're not here. And you don't have to worry about being 'saddled' with them. I'm asking for full custody. I'll give you liberal visitation rights, provided they want to see you. Right now, though, they don't want anything to do with you. I don't blame them. One bit." She looked at me, shocked that I had used her own language against her.

"And I take you hate me as well," she said.

"Hate's a pretty strong word," I said. "Let's just say I don't think very highly of you anymore." She nodded her head.

"Do you think you can forgive me?" she asked.

"Maybe one day, when I can look at my girls and not see the pain and anguish on their faces anymore. Pain and anguish you caused, by the way. And for the record, the girls ARE mine. I had DNA tests done on them."

"So, where will I go when they release me?" she asked.

"I've arranged an apartment for you. Loretta agreed to take you there when you get released." Marissa looked at her older sister when I said that. "All your stuff has been moved in and the utilities are in your name." I pulled out an envelope and handed it to her. "That's your half of our joint accounts minus the deposit and two month's rent on your apartment. Your car has been totaled, so you'll get a check for that as well." She took the envelope and nodded her head.

"By the way, I also know about your little 'escape' fund. My lawyer put a freeze on that account. If you sign the papers, she'll release the funds. Minus my half, of course," I said. She looked at me, shocked that I found her nest egg.

"I'll fight you for that," she said.

"I don't think that would be very wise," I told her. "Unless, of course, you want the evidence I have to be made public. It's pretty... graphic." She deflated after I said that. "Have your lawyer look the papers over. I'm sure you'll find them to be as fair as possible under the circumstances. Then sign them so we can end this sham of a marriage." Marissa looked at Loretta, hoping her sister would stand up for her, but that didn't happen.

"You stupid bitch," Loretta hissed. "I warned you years ago that you would get burned if you didn't get yourself under control. You didn't just lie to your husband and your kids. You lied to me when you told me you had put all that crap behind you. I promised Greg I would take you to your apartment when they released you, but that's it. After that, I'm done with you."

"What?" Marissa asked, tears falling down her face. I knew how close they were and I knew this was hard on the older sibling.

"You heard me, you stupid, lying cunt," Loretta said. "After I drop you off at your apartment, I don't ever want to see your skanky ass ever again, until you get your shit together. You hear me?" Sobbing, Marissa nodded her head.

"I'm sorry," she cried.

"That and a five dollar bill might buy you a cup of coffee," Loretta said. "I'm serious. I don't want you around my family until you get your head outta your ass. And you can start by apologizing to your husband and your girls." Teary-eyed, Marissa looked at me.

"I'm so sorry, Greg," she said. "I know you don't believe me, but I do love you."

"You're right. I don't believe you," I said. "Sign the papers, Marissa. End it now." She nodded her head, saying nothing. "Goodbye, Marissa." I started to leave, but she spoke before I got to the door.

"Can I call the girls, Greg? Please?" she asked.

"You can call anytime you want," I told her. "I can't guarantee they'll talk to you, though."

"I understand," she said quietly. "Thank you for that at least."

"You're welcome," I said before turning away from her. As I walked through the ward, I saw the nasty looks from the nurses. No doubt, they didn't approve of me serving her with divorce papers in the hospital. Too bad, I thought. I drove to my parents' house and drowned my sorrows in an extra-large helping of Mom's lasagna.

...

Epilogue:

The divorce went through without a hitch. Three months later, I was a free man, in more ways than one. Not only was I free of Marissa, I had also learned that I had dodged a bullet and was HIV-negative. Oddly enough, Marissa's tests also came back negative.

Gina handed me a check for just over $450,000.00 -- half of the money Marissa had in her secret account. I really didn't need all that, so I placed it into two accounts for the girls' college education.

Life went on for the three of us. Lisa and Ginger were my main reason for living these days. Sure, there were times when things were a bit strained. It's not easy being a single dad with two teenage girls. But I managed, with my Mom's help and guidance.

I didn't keep tabs on Marissa, but the girls told me she was adjusting to her new life as a single divorced woman. Yes, they had finally spoken to their mother, and she apologized profusely to them. It had taken nearly a year before the girls warmed up enough to spend so much as an afternoon with their mother. She had bought a new car and was back to selling houses, but with a different company.

Somehow, word of her escapades had gotten out, and her management wasn't too happy with what they had learned. She was given a choice to either leave voluntarily or get fired. She took the first choice and landed at another company, where, the girls told me, she's doing quite well. And, they added, she finally gave up her fake persona.

As for me, I found there were a number of single ladies in the church vying for my attention. I found myself inundated with various dishes to take home -- pies, casseroles, even a pan of lasagna now and then. And it seemed my girls were anxious to see me get attached again.

"C'mon, Dad, you need to get out and start dating again," Lisa told me. "It's not healthy for you to be alone."

"I wouldn't even know where to begin," I said. "And I'm not alone. I have you two keeping me pretty busy."

"But we're not gonna be here forever. It's simple, Dad," Ginger said. "You walk up to a woman and ask her out for dinner. You can do that, right?" I looked at my younger daughter and wondered when she became an expert on dating.

"I guess I can give it a try," I said. That Wednesday night, I bumped into Rhonda Carson in the line at the coffee shop at our church. She had lost her husband in Iraq a few years back and was raising a 17-year-old daughter by herself. She was one of the women who had given me a casserole to take home for dinner.

"Hey, Rhonda, how's everything going?" I asked.

"Hanging in there, Greg," she said. "How about you?"

"I'm doing okay, and I really enjoyed that casserole you gave me last week," I said.

"Thank you. You doing okay raising your girls by yourself?" she asked.

"It's a bit of a challenge sometimes, but yeah, I'm managing." She laughed at that.

"Well, if you're 'managing,' you're doing pretty good, I guess," she said.

"How are you doing? You've got a teenage daughter as well," I said.

"The hardest part is trying to deal with everything by myself," she said.

"I can relate to that," I said. We got our coffee and sat at a table talking about the challenges of single parenthood when I decided to make a move.

"Listen, Rhonda, I'm fairly new to all this dating stuff, but would you like to have dinner with me sometime? Maybe this Friday?" I asked. She thought for a moment, smiled and nodded her head.

"Yeah, Greg, I'd like that," she said. "What did you have in mind?"

"I don't know," I said. "I'd like to try that new Texas Roadhouse place. Does that sound okay to you?"

"I could go for a steak," she said. "Sure, that sounds like fun. Maybe we can catch a movie afterward or something."

"Great," I said. "I can pick you up at 6:30 if that's alright."

"That sounds perfect," she said. "In fact, you can bring the girls over and they can stay with Linda if that's alright." They had known each other for a long time and were already friends, so I thought it would be a good idea.

"Sounds good to me," I said. The girls were thrilled to hear of my date with Rhonda, and they liked the idea of spending an evening with Linda, so it was set.

That Friday, I took the girls over and we headed out for dinner. Rhonda looked very nice in her denim skirt and we had a great time. We didn't have sex that night, but she did give me a scorching hot kiss when I pulled up in front of her house. I spotted three sets of eyeballs checking us out from her front window and I thought I saw them giving each other a high-five.