Rebirth

REBIRTH

It was supposed to have been a surprise for her. In a way, it was, although it ended up being more a surprise for me. All in all, I'm pretty sure I can say it wasn't how either of us had planned on celebrating her thirtieth birthday.

You hear about it happening, you know? You hear tales. You read stories, and you think 'Aw, that's sad.' But you never really expect it to happen to you. You don't expect to have your whole world drop out from underneath you to leave you with this damned aching emptiness where your heart used to be. It's always about some older guy who's ex-armed forces, or a cop, or a lawyer, or an accountant, or some guy who spends a lot of time away from home. It's never about some geeky IT guy with no authority or powerful friends to bail him out. You never hear it happening to a guy who just commutes to work, doesn't spend more time at the office than he has to, and plays some D&D on the weekend.

You never hear about it happening to a guy like me.

But it does, and it did, and as I stood there in the doorway of our bedroom looking at her and her lover, my universe came crashing down around me.

I'd left work early that day, taking a few hours off to come home and surprise her. That morning, I'd wished her a happy birthday with kisses and breakfast in bed before heading out to work. Gwen, my wife of six years, had seemed subdued but I had chalked that up to sleepiness. I mean, breakfast in bed. Who wouldn't enjoy that, right? We had exchanged 'I love yous', and off I went, smiling to myself because she had no idea that I was coming home early with luncheon reservations for that high-end bistro that she loves but we can rarely afford.

She had said that she was taking a few days off of work for her birthday. I had asked before setting up my clever plan in motion with each bit of information that I had subtly gotten out of her. Was she going anywhere? Nope, Gwen had told me that she had simply wanted to chill, maybe watch some Netflix. Did she want to go out later to meet up with some of our friends? Sure, she was excited about that! A chance to go out on the town, she was always up for drinks and dancing!

Chill. Netflix. Netflix and chill. Damn, I was an idiot for not catching that. Maybe it was a slip of the tongue on her part, but I was so fucking trusting that I didn't think about it.

I had casually mentioned that there might be a surprise for her later on, a little something to celebrate her birthday. But I did my best to make sure Gwen wouldn't guess that I was coming home early, that I was taking her to her favorite restaurant, and that I had the choker that she'd been drooling over for the past four months in my pocket.

If she had been aware of any of that, especially the fact that I would be home early that afternoon, I might not have been the one who ended up all the more surprised.

Because how could I have expected it? As I stood in the doorway of our bedroom, seeing how the sunlight from the window fell across her heart-shaped face and bared breasts, I asked myself that. How could I have expected it? I couldn't. There was simply no way, no indication that anything had been wrong. Nonetheless, the same rays of afternoon light that illuminated the features of the woman I loved so very much also shown on the very naked body of her lover.

Gwen naked was no big deal; she usually slept in the rough, much to my delight. Hers was a small frame, delicate, her breasts the perfect handful, her pale skin so soft and kissable! She wasn't supermodel, big-tits, huge ass beautiful. She was small and pale and dark at the same time and to me? Perfect. Mind you, it was her eyes that always excited me the most; Gwen's eyes were big, dark, expressive, I could get lost in them for days!

But Joe? No, I had never seen him naked before, and by God, I hoped never to see him naked again! He was shorter than me, five-nine to my six-foot height, although we were about the same build. Neither fat nor muscular, not ugly or a stud. Joe Eisenberger was an old friend. He was even a groomsman at our wedding. Much like me, he was an average guy.

An average guy in bed with my wife in a room that reeked of sex. The raw stench of it hung in the air. Gwen and Joe both were asleep and disheveled, and the sheets were twisted all about the bed. Her long, black hair was mussed; his short brown locks stood up tangled spikes from where her long fingers had tangled into them. The two of them were spooned tight to one another as though cold despite the warm July afternoon. Gwen's lithe little body curled into Joe's broader one, his arm thrown around her narrow hips.

And I just stood there, looking at them as they slept. I stood there trying to process that my wife, the woman I loved, the one who had vowed to forsake all others for me, had been thoroughly fucked by a guy I would have never suspected was stabbing me in the back. I felt sick to my stomach. As many times as I closed my eyes and took deep breaths to will the sight of them away, I always opened them again to find that same nightmare in front of me.

I became numb. In an instant, I stopped feeling anything. My movements felt stiff to the point of being robotic as I took my phone out of my pocket and snapped several pics of the two of them together. Then I turned, softly closed the bedroom door, then trudged away.

A beer. I needed a beer. And a smoke. I hadn't smoked for years, but right then I needed to. Gwen still smoked clove cigarettes on occasion, part of her goth background that she never had left behind. I dug the pack out of her purse, grabbed a beer from the fridge, and plopped myself down into the recliner. The bottled stout was cold and the clove smoke was sweet and harsh in my mouth as I rolled it around my tongue. Between sips and puffs, I kept looking at the proof of betrayal on my phone, lies exposed by digital magic. Seeing it on the handheld screen instead of directly in front of me did nothing to ease the shock.

The numbness started to fade into an ache that radiated from the pit of my belly.

What was I going to do? That was one question. Why she had done it, that was another. How long, that, too, was on my mind. And... Why Joe?! Had there been others? Oh, God, I didn't want to go there! Every question made me sicker. The hollowness in my chest kept getting worse as I sat there and brooded.

They were both heavy sleepers. Neither had stirred when I'd come home to a seemingly empty house, and they had continued to sleep unaware of me standing in the doorway. As far as I knew, they were still asleep all that time while I sat in my armchair, wave after wave of depression washing over me. It was a tide that pulled me deeper and deeper into an ocean of black despair. I must have sat there for close to twenty minutes, nursing cigarette and beer before some dark, devilish part of me woke up.

With a swipe of the thumb, I closed the photo app and brought up the text message app. Another draw from the clove cigarette, another second to firm up in my mind what I was going to do, and then to do it. My thumb tapped rapidly across the tiny screen before hitting send to Gwen's phone.

JACK: Hey, Lover! Left work early. Home in 20. Go out? Or stay in? *wink*

I waited. Ten seconds, thirty seconds... In the bedroom, I heard Gwen's phone chirp loudly. She was always scared of missing texts in case it was something important, so the ringtone volume was always at its loudest.

Soon enough, I was rewarded with the muffled sounds of two people frantically scrambling about in the bedroom.

I heard the bedroom door open and caught a brief glimpse of Joe's bare ass as he hustled through the hallway to the bathroom. He hadn't seen me sitting there in the living room. That was good. More time for me to twist the knife.

My phone vibrated. Gwen had messaged back.

Gwen: Yay! Stop and get wine?

I looked over towards the kitchen where the just-purchased bottle of Merlot sat in plain view on the table. I wanted to bark out with laughter. She was trying to buy time to get her lover out of there and get cleaned up.

JACK: Merlot, ok?

Gwen: Perfect! See you soon!

JACK: I love you, Gwen!

She didn't reply. She didn't say that she loved me back. It added salt into a wound that was already stinging and widening every second.

More bumping around could be heard in the bedroom. I set the phone aside for a second to pick up the beer again. The chill of the stout helped calm my beating heart even if it did nothing for the churning knots in my belly. I started on my second cigarette when I heard the toilet flush and the bathroom door open again. Joe was on his way back.

I timed it. I waited until he was almost past the doorway connecting the living room to the hall, waited until he was almost to the bedroom before softly calling out to him with: "Hey, Joe. How's it going?"

I sounded remarkably calm, I thought. But the look on his face as he took a step back to look into the living room was exquisite. It was a look of such utter dumbfounded shock that I wished I could to preserve the moment forever. So I raised the phone and took another pic, this one of Joe in all of his thirty-something, naked glory with the stupidest expression on his face.

"Jack," he started, "Wha-"

I raised a finger to my lips and shook my head. I didn't want to give the game away yet. Was I being cruel? Probably. But I didn't care.

Another quick swipe of the thumb brought up the text app. I texted two short, separate messages to Gwen's phone.

JACK: Gwen, honey?

I then sent the second text, the picture of her and Joe sleeping together attached.

JACK: I'm home.

Turning back to Joe, I raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "So," I asked simply as though nothing had happened, "how long?"

He didn't respond immediately, still processing that he'd been found out. What he finally managed to get out in the few moments before Gwen appeared was, "A while."

Then Gwen appeared, the bedroom door crashing open and her bounding out of the room through the hallway to stand next to Joe. Her phone was gripped tightly in her one hand. She'd managed to at least pull on a pair of white panties and the skimpy, silk robe of emerald green that I'd given to her two Christmases ago. It showed plenty of leg and was hanging open to reveal her pale breasts. Beautiful. But her face! That beautiful face, that youthful, innocent-looking, sweet face was filled with fear and panic. Her lips trembled. Those eyes that I loved to stare into were wider and rounder than I'd ever seen them, and my guts wrenched tightly.

Damn it! I was the one who'd been betrayed! Why was my heart aching to see her so devastated?!

There was a heavy silence between the three of us for several seconds before I gestured with the cigarette towards the kitchen. "Wine's on the table," I intoned sadly. "Sorry, I didn't have time to chill it."

"Jack, I-"

I waved her off. "You were fucking Joe. In our bed. Behind my back. And it's been going on for 'a while.' Is that what you're about to say?" The last half of the cigarette was smashed repeatedly into the ashtray with more force than was required. "Give me one reason, Gwen, why I shouldn't send those photos to everyone we know, your family and mine included."

"Because I love you."

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK! My wife knew me too well. She knew exactly what to fucking say and how to say it, and that added fire to the fury born of humiliation inside of me. Damned if I was going to cave in that easily, though!

"You love me. You love me so much that you've been spreading your legs for this asshole. Is that it? Well, glad to know you love me, Gwen! I'd hate to think what you'd have done if you didn't." The words were bitter in my mouth. Gwen made no reply, just pulled her robe closed and looked down at her toes.

I glanced at her lover; dealing with him right then and there wasn't happening, not with him standing there with his schlong hanging out. "Joe, get your shit. Get the fuck out of here."

He, of course, tried to play the hero. With an uncertain glance towards Gwen, he started to mumble, "Jack, I know this looks bad and you two have some things to talk about, but I'm not sure leaving-"

I exploded.

I don't remember getting out of the chair. One second, I was sitting there and then I was inches from Joe's face, screaming at him to get the fuck out. I can't even remember exactly what I said. Spittle was flying. The whole of my body was trembling, my skin felt as if it were made of fire, and I could feel the strain in my fingers as they clenched and unclenched at my sides. The need to lash out was barely held in check.

I'm not a violent man. I've been in three fights in my life, two in junior high and one in senior high. And I've never been much of a fighter; only the last fight of the three could have been considered a win. I'd like to think I'm a pretty even-tempered person. I rarely raise my voice in anger, and outside of those three fights in my youth, I've never actively attempted to harm anyone.

You wouldn't have guessed it at that moment. I was ready to kill him. One word, that's all the fucker had to say. One word or even a hint of him trying something, and I would have torn him apart. Maybe that was why both Joe and Gwen looked all the more terrified; neither of them had ever seen me like that. No one had.

Whatever I said, it must have been effective. The asshole backed right the fuck up and bolted for the bedroom.

Gwen's face was white with fear. She took several steps back as well, making sure there were at least three yards between us. That hurt, too. In all of our time together, I had never raised my voice to her, never raised a fist in anger, never struck her. Whenever we fought, which wasn't often, I did so through gritted teeth and a lot of patience; I knew how her family had treated her. Did I look so much like her father then? Was I so terrifying that she thought I would hit her?

She tried again to talk to me as I stood there steaming. "Jack, I'm sorry! This wasn't supposed to... It was just sex! I don't love him more than you, we just... We've had an understanding, is all!"

The immediate flash of rage subsided. Without the adrenaline to keep it going, my body quickly began to get the tremors, and my hands shook as I stared blankly at the hallway wall. I could hear Joe snatching up his stuff in the other room. "And when were you going to tell me about this understanding, Gwen? When, exactly, were you going to tell me that you were cheating on me?"

I hated how hoarse my voice sounded. I was not going to cry. Damn it, I was not going to cry in front of her, and I fucking was not going to show her any compassion. Not when it felt like I still had a knife twisting in my guts.

The anguish must have been plain on my face. My wife stepped towards me, one hand reaching out to me in an attempt to bring some comfort. The look of pity on her face made me want to vomit; it made the humiliation I was feeling all the worse.

The hand was batted away. "No! No, don't, don't fucking touch me. Not right now, Gwen, don't... Don't fucking touch me."

Tears began to form in her eyes as she retreated again. I could feel the stinging in the corners of my own eyes, and my breath caught in my throat as I struggled not to break down. I would not give her that satisfaction. I would not be weak. I had already been fooled by one of the two people in this world that I trusted completely, and I was not going to fall for any more tricks or lies. Nothing Gwen said or did could be trusted anymore.

"Jack," she begged with her sweet voice, "please, listen to me. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you."

Joe appeared, half-dressed and looking anxious as hell. He eased carefully past the two of us and into the living room, giving me a wide berth in the process. Glancing towards Gwen, he swallowed nervously. "Gwen, I'll call you later." Catching my hateful glare at him, he then told me, "Do yourself a favor and listen to her, OK, Jack? Gwen really does love you. Don't do anything foolish."

"Like sleep with my friend's wife, Joe? Like, fuck her for 'a while' behind my friend's back, treating him like an idiot? Laughing at him because he hasn't figured it out and is too dumb to put two and two together? That kind of foolish, Joe?" I shook my head. "Get out. There's the door. Go find the other side of it, asshole."

He left without another word. I was alone with my cheating wife. For the longest time, we both stood there saying nothing to each other. God knows what she was thinking. She was looking miserable and afraid, but how could I trust that?! If she'd duped me about our marriage, how could I trust anything she said or did?! My thoughts sort of hung in my mind, unable to find purchase as questions and fears alike swirled around and around but failed to come out of my mouth. Joe wanted me to listen to her. Gwen had said that she didn't love him more than me. Did that mean she still loved him? I wasn't sure I wanted to hear the answer.

"It's my body," she croaked out unexpectedly. I stared at her in shock, but she squared her shoulders and looked at me with those deep brown eyes of hers. "It's my body," she said again a little louder, "I can do what I want with it. Just because we're married doesn't give you the right to approve or disapprove of what I do with it."

This gave me pause. "No. No, you're right. I don't have any rights over your body, Gwen. You're not my slave. You are a free person able to fully make your own decisions in regards to your body." I gestured towards her chest. "You wanted to get your tits pierced; I wasn't so keen on it at first, but I didn't stop you from doing it. Even admitted that I came to like it! You were the one that decided we were going to use condoms for birth control, we've talked about what happens if you do get pregnant and what you would want to do if it happens, and I've, I've agreed to all of it because it's your body. Your health."

"But I am your husband!" The cry tore out of my throat, belying the calm, reasonable tone I had been using, and I felt as though I were about to vomit. My voice was as shaky as my hands. "You made a promise to me! In front of my sister, in front of your mother, in front of our friends, in front of the minister, and in front of everyone else. What were the words, Gwen? Love, honor, comfort? Forsaking all others? Do you remember ANY of that? Did you MEAN any of that?"

"I did! I mean, I do! But it's not that simple, Jack! Not for me! I needed more! I couldn't give Joe up, I thought I could, and I tried to be faithful, I really did! Please, I'm sorry! You weren't supposed to find out like this!"

She might as well have smacked me across the face. Communication involves not only the words; it's how those words are used, including the timing. Something in the way that she had said that she had tried to give up rang alarm bells in my ears.

"You've been fucking him since before we were married."

"Since before I met you," she admitted softly. Gwen was looking away from me now, unable to face me now that the cat was out of the bag. We'd been married for six years, dated for just over two years before that, which meant she and Joe had been screwing around together for close to a decade.

"Joe and I have been seeing each other for a long time, Jack. There's this bond... It's hard to explain. We can't imagine life without each other." Those soulful eyes looked up at me with pleading love in their depths. "But you're the one I wanted to marry, Jack. You're the one I wanted to be my husband. Please, you've got to believe me!"

The slim necklace case was pulled from my pant's pocket, and I tossed it onto the floor between us. It popped open when it landed, revealing the Victorian-style choker I'd bought her. In the light of the afternoon sun through the windows, garnets and amethysts sparkled in the silver filigree.