Rainbow River

-- Bryan --

I stared at my barely used tandem kayak as I picked up a paddle. It was like the two seats were just mocking me. Just another reminder of my failed marriage. I had purchased this kayak over five years ago, just before the bottom fell out of our relationship. It was a natural purchase, really. The house we lived in backed to the Rainbow River. A crystal clear, spring fed river that ran though the little town of Dunnellon. Kayaking and canoeing down the river was a popular pastime, despite the occasional alligator sighting. I had figured we'd be spending hour after hour on the river, enjoying the serene vistas as we lazily paddled downstream.

Boy was I wrong. I thought I had it all, a great job, a beautiful wife, a big house on the river. Instead, I was living a lie, I just didn't know it. Turns out my new wife was using me for money and status.

When I met Jennifer in college, she was struggling like most college students. Her smile was just beyond compare. I was instantly smitten. I never thought for an instant that her interest was more about my wallet than about me. There was money in my family, everyone knew it. I never tried to hide it myself. I guess that was my first mistake. It wasn't long before Jennifer and I were a couple, and I was helping her with her tuition, room and board.

The sex was incredible, that's for sure. I guess it's one of the reasons I had never suspected a thing. Everytime we made love, things just seemed to get better and better. I thought for sure I was pressing all of her buttons, at least she never let on that I wasn't.

Our relationship grew, or so I thought. Things seemed to be moving along naturally. By the time we graduated and I had gotten a lucrative job as an engineering consultant, I felt it was time to make our relationship permanent. I had it all planned out. A romantic weekend getaway to a tropical island, first class flights, 5 star resort and a 1-1/2 carat diamond ring. Maybe it was all over the top. I didn't care. I thought she deserved it.

I popped the question the first night at the most exclusive restaurant on the island. I have to admit, her reaction wasn't as bubbly and excited as I expected, although not altogether cold either. It took her a minute staring at the ring before she said yes. At first I chalked it up to being in shock, but for the rest of the evening she seemed...distant. Even sex that night felt off. This was the first time I wondered in my heart if there was something wrong. I should have taken this as a big red flag. Hindsight is always 20/20.

She was back to her beautiful, fun-loving self for the rest of the weekend. I thought maybe I was just worrying about nothing. The sun, surf, sand and quite a few umbrella drinks seemed to heal whatever was wrong with her. Soon she was showing off her engagement ring to anyone who would look. My pride swelled. I'd soon come to regret that feeling.

Things seemed normal upon our return. We planned our future life together. I never had a clue that she wasn't 'all in'. Probably because I was too busy making sure her every whim was satisfied.

One thing Jennifer seemed to love more than anything else was horses. It was one of the reasons we bought the house in Dunnellon. It was near Ocala, where some of the most prestigious thoroughbred farms are located. We spent weekend after weekend touring the farms. Soon we were even bidding for part ownership of a racehorse.

Jennifer loved the racing scene, if for nothing else just to be hobnobbing with the well-to-do. Expensive trips to the Kentucky Derby, Belmont and Preakness, along with many other noteworthy races. All on my dime of course. She always looked gorgeous when she was dressed to the nines at these events. I was never all that comfortable with the brash display of excess, but I put up with it for her. It always seemed to make her happy.

In the midst of all this we were married, and although the patriarch of our family, my grandfather, preached to me about the advantages of a prenup, I thought it was out of the question. No way she would ever betray me or leave. Right. Stupid me. I was so blinded by my love for her I never saw it coming.

Everything was gorgeous on our wedding day. She looked so beautiful in her white gown. Wide smiles from her and her family made me feel at ease. Visions of our future rushed through my mind. I had no doubt we'd have a big family of our own and that love would conquer all. My dreams always included us growing old together, surrounded by children and grandchildren.

I proudly said "I do" at the altar. There's that word again. 'Pride'. Of the seven deadly sins, theologians and philosophers reserve a special place for pride as the deadliest of all the sins, the root of all evil. Another red flag maybe? I don't know. It seemed right to me at the time.

That night in the honeymoon suite was one of the best nights of sex we'd ever had. I lost count on the number of orgasms we both shared. I knew in my heart we were soulmates. I didn't think anything would ever come between us. I reveled in the attention with her on my arm, I felt so lucky.

It was only about a year and a half later that my world started to crumble. Between my busy job and the horse racing schedule, I was barely able to keep up. I begged Jennifer for a break just to stay home one weekend so I could recharge my batteries. A big fight ensued. I gave in, of course, and off we went to the Melbourne Cup.

The flight sucked the whole way. Storms rocked the tin can we were flying in. Coupled with lengthy delays and even losing our hotel reservations should have been my clue that this trip was going to be a disaster. It didn't help that my wife was in my ear the entire time about our upcoming heavy travel schedule. By the time we found accommodations in a shitty airport motel, I half-heartedly dragged my suitcases inside and collapsed on the bed. I was completely exhausted.

I must have fallen dead asleep. By the time I woke up, it must have been early morning Melbourne time. Jennifer was in the bed next to me in a deep slumber. I got out of bed to relieve myself.

When I was coming back to bed I noticed her phone kept lighting up. I began to worry that something might be wrong with one of her family members back in the states for texts to be coming in at this hour. I never look at her phone. It always seemed to be constantly attached to the end of her arm. I picked up the phone and looked at the notifications to see if I needed to wake her up for a family emergency.

It wasn't her family texting. It was her ex-boyfriend, Robert, from college. Weird, I hadn't heard or thought about him since back in our days living on campus. I wondered what in the hell he could want, especially at this hour.

As I read texts it was obvious. He wasn't an ex-boyfriend. The X-rated garbage they'd been texting back and forth spelled it all out. She'd married my money and kept him for fun. I felt my heart drop out of my chest as I kept scrolling through their smutty dialog. I couldn't believe it was real. The killer was how she'd put me down to him, degrading me and telling him he was better at everything that happened in the bedroom. It even came out that she was siphoning money from me to keep him afloat at his failing business. My wife was a cold, calculating, two-timing whore and I was the clueless dumb-ass. Where was my 'pride' now?

By the time I was done I'd learned that they'd never really broken up. My whole love life was a lie. I looked up from the phone at my sleeping wife as tears filled my eyes. My whole body was shaking. Most people would never be able to believe that you could go from an all encompassing love for someone to a deep visceral hatred in only a handful of minutes. I'm living proof that it can happen.

In those moments, my heart was broken, I was broken. My anxiety swelled. It was like I didn't even know who I was anymore. In fact, it didn't seem to matter who I was. I just needed one thing. To leave.

I pulled on my pants and took my wallet off the nightstand, pulled on a t-shirt, slipped on some shoes and silently exited the motel room. I took care not to wake her. I just wanted to leave everything behind. Everything in that room was tainted. My wife, my wedding ring, my phone, God...even my luggage were things I never, ever wanted to see again.

I wandered the streets of Melbourne for I don't know how long. I was in a daze mostly. Many folks asked if I needed help or something. I must have looked that bad. I just brushed them off and kept moving. My racing heart wouldn't let me open up to anyone. Here I was on the wrong end of the world, so far away from my family and anyone that truly loved me.

I had left my phone behind. Just as well, I didn't want anyone finding me, especially my wife. My god, the bile that rises into my throat whenever I say those two words. 'My wife'. It disgusts me to my core. It felt like someone had just ripped my heart from my chest and thrown it into traffic. My depression surrounded me like a thick fog.

Word finally got out that I was "missing". At first Jennifer didn't know about the exposure, just that I was in the bed one minute and gone the next. She slowly let my family know as hour after hour passed without me showing up back at our hotel.

I don't know how long it was until I appeared back on the grid. I had finally run out of cash and had to start using my cards to eat or find a place to sleep. The police found me at some seedy motel all the way across town. One of them even joked that I was probably on a 'walkabout' as they roused me from my sleep. It was all they could do to break me out of my stupor and let me know my family was looking for me. They radioed back that I was safe, at least physically. I sure as hell wasn't sound.

Once I was finally located, my family sprang into action. No one knew what had happened, just that I needed help. Next thing I knew a limo pulled up to the hotel I was staying at to bring me to the airport. That must have been a sight. As we pulled away I swore I saw a couple of hookers chasing my limo down the street.

The driver handed me a new phone. Thank God my family hadn't yet notified Jennifer of my whereabouts. I guess they had a feeling. I cried as I spilled the whole story to my big sister, Kim. We made a pact to keep my status hidden from Jennifer for the time being.

I don't even know what the pills were that the driver gave me when he dropped me off at the airport. "Take these when you get on the plane," he said. Once I was seated I asked for some water and swallowed the pills. Chemistry worked its magic on me. I woke up when the stewardess tapped me on the shoulder. Everyone was already off the plane.

Once I had finally made it through customs, Kim surprised me by meeting me outside at the taxi stand. She must have thought I was nuts. I ran to her and hugged her for what seemed like forever. I sobbed as I thanked her for saving my life.

"You need to get a hold of yourself, Bryan," Kim whispered in my ear. "You still have a lot to get through and you need to be strong."

"I know, I know," I sobbed. "It just hit me all at once."

"You can do this, Bryan," she said as she broke our embrace. "You have a head start. Jennifer is still back in Melbourne and she doesn't know much. You need to use this time to get your ducks in a row."

"I will," I responded, trying to button up my resolve.

"And for god sakes," continued Kim. "Don't let that bitch weasel her way back into your heart. If you do, the whole family will disown you!"

"No chance of that," I said as I felt my strength coming back. "Too much shit under this bridge." Yeah, my metaphors were fucked up, but at least my family had my back.

Kim smiled as she handed me a key. "We took the liberty of having the locks changed at your house. I hope you don't mind. At least you'll be able to stay there without any unwanted intrusions!"

I hugged her once more. "Thanks, alone time is what I need now. I'll have to see if I can convince her to stay away. Maybe all of her shit in garbage bags on the front lawn will clue her in."

"That's the spirit!" Kim yelled. "Let me know if you need anything. Here's your limo home. Remember! Your family loves you!"

'Thanks again Kim," I said as I gave her a final hug. I made my way to the limo. The driver was quite confused about me having no luggage whatsoever. I guess I probably just set the record for the lightest load of an around-the-world traveler. Not a record that I ever want to think about again.

I wasn't half way home before I got a call on my new phone. It was our family lawyer, Mr. Peter Floyd, Esq. "I've been briefed on the situation by your sister, Mr. Steele. I am at your disposal. What would you like to do?" he asked.

"One word Pete. Divorce! And as soon as legally possible!" I said in the firmest tone I could muster.

"Well, luckily you haven't been married for too long and there are no children involved," said Pete. "I will see to it that the financial impact to you and the family is minimized."

"I don't want that gold-digging slut to get one more penny from me!" I yelled into the phone as my rage swelled. "I don't care if you have to burn both of us to the ground!"

"Mr. Steele," Pete replied. "I understand your anger, but let's not lose sight of the final goal, which is to get you untangled from this mess. I will do my best to make sure that she is cut out of your life completely. This is a long process, I will need you to keep a cool head whenever you interact with your soon to be ex-wife."

"I understand," I said as we pulled into my driveway. "Thanks Pete. You're gonna have to earn your keep on this one. I'll make sure to include you in any correspondence. Thanks for your help."

"I'd like to say 'my pleasure'," replied Pete. "But I know there is nothing pleasurable about this. Take care of yourself Bryan. In fact, if I may, I'd like to suggest therapy. Many people who have had to face a contemptuous divorce like this have benefited with professional help. If you'd like, I can come up with a list of good therapists."

"That would be good, thanks," I said. "I'll be sending a message to my soon-to-be-ex here shortly and I'll cc you on the message. Goodbye Pete, Thanks again."

"Your welcome, Mr. Steele. Goodbye."

I made my way into my house and collapsed on the couch. At least I had gotten some sleep on the plane. In fact I was still a bit groggy from the medication. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I needed to compose a message to Jennifer. My stomach churned as I tapped out my missive.

'Jennifer. It's over. I read the messages from Robert and there is no need for us to talk any further. I have instructed my lawyer to pursue a divorce. I will no longer correspond with you directly. Any questions will need to be routed through my lawyer, Mr. Floyd. You are no longer welcome at my house and the locks have been changed. Please coordinate removal of your belongings ASAP. This will be the only correspondence from me. From here on out I will be blocking your number.'

I reread my statement twice before I finally hit send. I'm sure my lawyer was fine with it. It was cold and devoid of emotion. It did nothing to hint at the raging inferno that was burning my heart into a hateful pile of black ash. It was the first step for me to put up the walls around my soul. I vowed to never be in that position again.

I broke down as I blocked her number. I threw the phone after I finished the task and began to sob, almost uncontrollably. I couldn't even believe that I still had tears left. I feared that I would never recover from this wound.

It didn't help that the house was filled with her shit. It didn't take me long to realize that I didn't even want to be there until it was all removed. I half thought about burning it all down, but finally thought better about it. I secretly booked a long stay at a condo near work. It wasn't until my lawyer finally gave me the 'all clear' before I moved back. She barely left me a pot to piss in, but I didn't care. I could easily outfit a house, and the new stuff would leave no trace of her.

--

Although I had successfully blocked Jennifer, it didn't take her long to start sending in the flying monkeys. I was able to dodge most of it since I knew most of her direct relatives and close friends. It was when she started sending more distant relatives that someone finally broke through.

I answered the phone to a number I didn't recognize. I guess it caught me off guard. When the woman explained she was a cousin of my soon-to-be-ex and was calling on her behalf, I launched into the most vicious, expletive laden vitriol that one could imagine. The poor woman must have thought that she'd just leaped into a wood-chipper by mistake. I verbally tore her limb from limb, chewing up her flesh into small unrecognizable bits. When I finally took a breath, she meekly said, "Well, I guess that's a 'no'," and hung up. I felt bad about it afterward, but it was just further proof of what Jennifer had done to me. I was damaged goods.

With my lawyer as my gatekeeper, my interaction with my ex-wife was kept to a minimum. I only ever saw her again at the courthouse when we had to go in front of the judge for the last hearing. I answered the judges questions with brief answers and made no attempt to converse with her. The divorce was granted. I signed and my lawyer and entourage kept the ex-wife at bay. She tried to get at me as I was loaded into my limo. The vision of Jennifer chasing my limo into the street mimicked that of the whores chasing my limo in Melbourne. I thought it quite fitting.

Although the relationship was legally over and I was free, my recovery was slow at best. Thankfully, Pete had come through with a list of councilors and I chose one who specialized in relationship trauma. Dr. Beverly Taylor was a godsend. She worked hard to get me to realize that this had happened through no fault of my own. It took quite a few sessions to even convince me to get back out into the world and start doing things I enjoy.

Like so many people with PTSD, I had buried myself into the only thing that felt safe for me, my work. I took on so many extra projects that my bosses were concerned for my well-being. I always brushed off their calls to take a vacation or at least a little time for myself. I was professionally wildly successful, but my accomplishments soon became less and less fulfilling. The hole in my heart that I had been trying to fill with busy work stayed just as large and empty as the day I broke down in Melbourne. I finally started taking Beverly's advice to seek out activities that were comforting for me. Hence me unearthing my kayak.

As I stepped off the dock, I slipped into the forward seat of the kayak. At least from this position I didn't need to stare at an empty seat in front of me. It was tranquil out on the river. Most weekdays saw very little boating traffic. Weekends on the other hand were a totally different story. A state park back at the headwaters of the river rented out boats, tubes and kayaks to any and all that would pay the fee.

Today it seemed like I was the only person out on the river. I could paddle at my leisure and take time investigating the local flora and fauna. I had even brought my diving camera along. I wanted to start taking some wildlife pictures I could use to start filling all the blank walls in my house.

The river did not disappoint. It was just what the doctor ordered. I'd always longed to get out on the river back when I was married. Never did due to our ridiculous travel schedule and her not being interested. Time seemed to stand still as I floated along. The crystal clear river allowed me to easily see the bottom as schools of fish swam by. Snapping turtles and the occasional small alligator sunning themselves on fallen trees was a common sight. Waterfowl teamed along the river. Majestic Blue Heron would reposition themselves as they fished along the banks. The Mallards never seemed to miss an opportunity to swim up to the side of my kayak, begging for a scrap of bread.