Seven Year Itch

Todger65 has edited around seventy of my stories (depending on when this gets published). It boggles my mind that he continues to do so. There is no accounting for taste, but I thank him anyway.

Seven Year Itch

Joe's wife decides she needs time away. Thank goodness for two amazing friends

~~~~~{}~~~~~

Another day, another dollar or so after taxes, and I walk into the kitchen from the garage. I make a bit more than that, but after the bills are paid and Jane does her thing, it seems like a dollar is all we have left. I guess that's middle class for you. Work your ass off forty hours a week, make ends meet, and hope there is a little bit of fun money left over. If I'm lucky, I get a little overtime to add to the kitty. I'm not lucky. I get a ton of forced overtime, and that puts me in a higher tax bracket, which in turn means I work overtime for less money than regular time. There is also the added slap in the face of spending more time at work than I do with the woman I love. Apparently, too much time.

I was surprised to see Jane's car in the open garage when I pulled up to the curb. She gets the garage and I get the street. Curious, I walked from the kitchen on a search for my lovely wife. I was looking forward to taking her out to dinner and some drinks. She had other plans.

She came down the hallway dragging a suitcase, noted my confused expression, and walked right by me. I turned and followed as she went to the garage, opened the trunk of her car, and put the suitcase in. She slammed the trunk lid closed as I peered at her from beside her car, "Jane, what's going on?"

She moved toward the driver's door and opened it, "I'm taking off for the weekend. I'll see you when I get back."

I looked at her in confusion, "You didn't say anything about going out of town. Is something wrong with your parents?"

She looked at me expressionless, "Nothing's wrong. I just need to get away for a while. I'll see you on Sunday."

She started to get in the car, but I was already next to her and blocked her escape, "Whoa! Hold on a minute. You're telling me that you're leaving for the weekend, by yourself, on a trip you never talked to me about, and you expect me to be alright with that?"

She shook her head, "Please don't make a big deal out of this. I need a little time to think."

I was instantly crushed, "What do you mean, don't make a big deal? We've been married seven years this weekend, and we love each other. Why would you need to leave to think?"

She crossed her arms over her chest. Uh oh, I know that posture. She's about to tell me her version of THE TRUTH, which is her perception of reality, and not necessarily based on anyone else's.

"All you do is work, sleep, and occasionally talk to me. I don't have a husband. I have a friend that sleeps in the same bed that I do, and I'm tired of it."

This pissed me off not a little, "We've had this discussion many times before. You want me sitting on the couch next to you while you play on your phone, watch Judge Judy, and drink your wine. I don't like vegging in front of the television. I need things to occupy my mind, so I do stuff, instead of quietly waiting for you to get drunk enough to find some reason to be angry at me.

"I haven't seen you make any attempt to meet me halfway. You do the same thing every night, and every time I try to get you to do something different you refuse. You get your buzz on and pass out in bed. How does that make me the bad guy?"

Her response shouldn't have been a surprise, "You just don't get it. Move so I can leave."

Like any normal human beings, we both feel things. The way Jane and I react to those feelings is dramatically different. When I am upset with her, or depressed because of her, I want to talk about it and resolve the issue. When she is upset or depressed she lashes out. Rather than talk about what is bothering her, she hordes it, and lets the resentment grow until she explodes. It's nearly impossible to have a rational conversation when she gets that way. Anything I say is twisted and thrown back at me with punishing intent. It doesn't help that the only time she wants to have a serious conversation about us, she's been drinking.

I blocked the car door, "It's our anniversary and I would have loved to go on a trip with you, but you didn't say a word. Instead, you plan this and tell me the absolute minimum you possibly can in the expectation that I'll just go along with it. You're being deliberately vague and only telling me enough to make me worried and upset. "You're punishing me and you're twisting the truth to justify whatever it is that you are doing. You haven't told me where you're going or what you plan to do."

She shrugged, "I'm going to Columbus and do some shopping."

Columbus was a two hour drive away. Jane usually went there once a year for Christmas shopping, and we had been there many times as a couple for a weekend of entertainment and fun. The thing that bothered me was that Jane isn't a shopaholic. She likes to window shop a bit, but for hours, not days. This was smelling fishier by the second, "Jane, I know you better than that. You might shop for at most four hours tomorrow. What are you planning to do the rest of the time you're away?"

"Whatever I want."

I wanted so much to lose my temper, but I knew that there would be no salvaging this situation if I did. As sad as it made me, I had to ask, "Are you meeting someone there, Jane?"

She gave me the stink eye, "Of course not!"

I felt the tears start and she gave me an impatient look, "That right there is why I didn't say anything. I knew you'd get all depressed. This isn't about you, it's about me."

I stepped aside, "Jane, there is no going back from this. If you leave, you're putting our marriage at risk."

She didn't say a word as she got into her car and tried to pull the door closed. My hands had an iron grip on the top of the driver's door, and she couldn't budge it," Jane! Look at me... Please."

She looked up at me with obvious impatience. I'd had enough and I was afraid I knew what to expect when I said it, but I said it anyway, "Please don't do this Jane. If you leave, we're done. I won't sit at home and wait like a puppy dog while you go do your thing."

She shook her head, "Don't make this bigger than it is. I just need a little time to think, and I'll see you when I get back."

I let the door go and she pulled it shut. She backed out of the garage and hit the remote for the garage door. By the time the door finished closing, I was on my knees, sobbing.

~~~~~{}~~~~~

Jane

Jane was angry and disappointed when she drove away. She was so tired of her life. Joe never spent time with her anymore. In fact, he actively avoided her and she was sick and tired of being alone all the time. Yes, she liked her wine. It was her only friend these days and she looked forward to getting home and her first glass of forgetfulness.

Why couldn't he do what she wanted and sit with her at night? Instead, he spent his time with his little projects and ignored her. She didn't understand it. He had always been so compliant in their marriage, always doing what she wanted.

She didn't understand how he could show his feelings the way he did. It made her uncomfortable. You don't show people your real feelings. Those are secrets held deep. Feelings can be used to control you and she would never allow that. Her father had taught her that feelings were a weakness that led to disappointment. Joe was always wanting to talk about feelings and stuff, and she hated that. She chose to forget that her feelings were what made her fall in love with her husband in the first place.

She had yet to understand the inner strength her husband showed when he put her wants and needs above his own. She thought he was being weak. She'd decided a few weeks ago to take off for a weekend. She told herself it was because she needed time to think, but the reality was that she wanted him to suffer a bit before she returned home. He'd be grateful that she came back and would again be the compliant husband she thought she had come to know. Even if it did mean he wasn't the strong man she expected him to be.

Arriving at her hotel, she checked in and settled in her room. Half an hour later she was in the hotel bar with her first glass of wine. Two hours later, she was drunk and a ripe victim for the suave older man that seduced her. She was vulnerable and he was a consummate professional at seduction. Jane barely remembered the walk to her room.

Jane woke in the morning alone in her bed. Tears fell as she as what she had done came flooding back. Her conscience tortured her. She thought about coming clean with Joe, but she decided that it would destroy him. It was better that he never knew. It wasn't until she was shopping two hours later that she realized she had a problem.

~~~~~{}~~~~~

Shortly after Jane left, I got myself together and did some thinking. I logged onto our joint bank account and everything appeared normal. I let out a sigh of relief. I fully expected that she had moved all our money in anticipation of our separation. Apparently, she was convinced that I would stay at home like a good boy and wait for her return. She couldn't have been more wrong.

I decided to beat her to the punch and within a few minutes I had transferred everything except the minimum to keep the account open into my project account. I'd established the project account for paid side projects I did for people. I'd made a bit of money over the years and spent a bit as well. The shop account was my way of preventing chaos in our joint account.

There was nothing left for me to do until the morning. I grabbed my jacket and took off walking. Our (I guess now, my) favorite bar was just a few blocks away. I found a stool at the end, ordered a strong drink, and pretended to be interested in the television hanging on the wall behind the bar. Time passed while I drank and obsessed about what my wife was doing, or most likely, had already done.

I was drunk, but still feeling the pain, when a hand fell on my shoulder. I looked around to see my best friend Ron smiling at me with his wife Susan standing behind him. Susan couldn't see my face or she probably wouldn't have asked, "How come you're sitting by yourself on a Friday night? Where's Jane?"

Their faces got blurry as I nearly broke down and I felt Ron pull my arm, "Come on Joe. Let's get you out of here."

I let myself be guided out of the building and into their car. A short drive later Ron led me into his house and sat me down on his couch. He left the room and was back shortly with a glass of whiskey. He handed it to me and sat down across from me, "OK Joe, What's got you so upset."

I told them everything. They already knew that Jane and I were having problems. Jane's drinking, refusal to consider any side but her own, and my allergy to confrontation were old news. That Jane would do what she did, and do it so coldly, shocked them to the core.

Susan sat down next to me on the couch and took my hand in hers. She gently rubbed it with her other hand as she looked at me in sympathy, "What are you going to do now Joe?"

I wiped my eyes with my other hand, "In the morning I'll have to pack some stuff. I'll need to find an apartment to live in next week. I guess in the mean while I'll stay at a hotel. I don't want to be in that house any more than I have to. It's going to be hard to find a place when I'm working so much overtime, but I'll figure it out. And... I also need to meet with a lawyer."

The room was quite for a while. I'm sure now that while I was wallowing in my sorrow, Susan and Ron were silently communicating like husbands and wives do. I was off in my own little world when Ron spoke, "Joe, you're staying here while you work through this."

It took me a moment in my drunken state, but what he said finally registered, "No way man! You don't need some failure of a husband interrupting your life. I'll call a taxi and be out of your hair."

Ron wasn't having it, "You're not going anywhere tonight. Come on, let's get you to bed."

Susan and Ron helped me to my feet, and I was just a tiny bit unsteady. Ron held me by the shoulders until my legs got oriented in the same direction while Susan put her arm through mine. She guided me toward the guest bedroom. It's not surprising that most of that evening is a blur. One thing I do remember with clarity was the feel of her arm on mine and the side of her breast brushing against me as we made our way down the hall. It had been a long time since a woman deliberately touched me and I felt a little thrill, followed immediately by thoughts of Jane in another man's arms. It's probably just as well that I don't remember anything after that.

Sometime the next morning I woke with a massive hangover, pulled on my pants, and rushed to the bathroom. My addled brain wondered how I was going to get rid of what felt like gallons of piss while puking my guts up. I managed to get the pissing part done and was on my knees at the toilet when there was a soft knock at the door, "Joe, are you OK?"

I was very far from OK, "I'll be fine Susan. I just errr... need... uhg... a minute."

"Are you decent?"

I nodded before it finally occurred to me that she couldn't hear my head rattle, "Yeh, kinda."

I guess 'kinda' was good enough because I heard the door open, then water running, then the most wonderful sense of relief as the cold washcloth was placed on the back of my neck, "Don't move Joe, I'll be right back."

I heard her leave and rested my forehead on the commode seat, focused on breathing and not puking. The smell of the blue water a five-star elegance compared to what I would have faced if I had been in the bar restroom. It's strange where the mind goes in moments like that.

Some time passed and Susan was back. She gently rubbed my back, "Joe, sit up for me. I have something that will help."

I slowly tilted my head up and she fed me some pills, followed by a few sips of water. The water settled my stomach a bit and I took a few more sips before giving her back the cup. I managed to climb to my feet and Susan studied me for a moment, "OK, looks like you'll live. Let me get you Ron's robe while you get in the shower. You reek mister."

She left and was soon back with Ron's robe, "Here you go. Get cleaned up and let's get some food in you."

She left and the hot shower felt wonderful, at least until my head cleared enough that I remembered why I was in my friend's house. I had myself a still half drunk, hungover, and sad, cry. Then, I said, "Fuck it" and finished washing up. I decided from now on I would shed no more tears over Jane. Easier said than done when the marriage I thought would last a lifetime was ending, but I meant it at the time. That didn't take away the sadness and depression, but it did a fair job of hiding it from most people.

Susan wasn't one of those people. The look of sympathy she gave me when I walked into the kitchen almost made me break my promise to myself. I sat down at the kitchen table and she set breakfast in front of me. At first I wasn't sure if I could eat, but after a few bites I started to feel a little less dead. Susan sat patiently watching me eat. When I finally finished, and I looked up at her, I was embarrassed, "Thank you for helping me this morning Susan, and for last night."

I stood up, "I'll get out of your hair. And again, thanks."

Susan put her hand on my arm, "Nope, you're not going anywhere. Go lie down and sleep for a while. Let the medicine do its work. Now go! Shoo!"

I didn't move fast enough for her. She gave me a long look, and deciding not to wait for me to comply, she took my arm and led me back to the guest room. Again, I felt her breast against my arm and my cock began to swell. I have no idea why, but when I'm hungover I get horny for some reason. I'm in the worst possible shape to be intimate with anyone, but my libido thinks otherwise. I was glad she couldn't see under the robe. I wasn't hard enough to bulge out yet, but in a matter of moments I would be, and I didn't have a clue as to how to stop it.

I didn't want to ruin our friendship by crossing any lines, and I knew it was her gentle and caring touch that was affecting me. That alone should have made my dick soft. She'd always been a great friend, but that was all she had ever been. Now, suddenly, I was getting aroused by her casual touch. It was confusing as hell.

In all honesty, I had always found her very attractive, but she's my friend, and my best friend's wife. A little fantasizing in my head is one thing. Doing something about it is another, and I was never going to go there. I needed to lay down and hide this thing before it became the center of attention. At the moment the bed she was directing me toward looked extremely attractive. I managed to get in bed without further exposure. I heard the door close as I rolled onto my side, then I was out.

Two hours later I woke up, and if not a new man, at least one that could function in society. I put on my stinky clothes from the night before and made my way to the front of the house. Susan was sitting in the living room reading and she gave me a nice smile when I walked into the room, "Susan, thank you very much for taking care of my drunk ass. I'm going home to change and pack some stuff. I moved our money to my shop account last night, so at least she can't take it."

Susan frowned, "Do you really think she would take everything?"

I looked at the floor, "She tossed me aside like I wasn't even a person. Why would she feel the slightest guilt about anything she does to me? I am sure that she would rather have control of our money. It would give her leverage to get anything she wants."

"What are you going to do Joe?"

"I guess I'll see what the lawyer has to say."

I went to the house and spent most of the day packing my stuff. One small collection of clothes and stuff were going with me to Ron and Susan's house. The rest would be stored short term in Ron's outbuilding. The rest of the weekend was bouts of sad introspection, followed by strenuous activity to fight off the demons. Monday morning, I called in sick and found a divorce lawyer through the magic of Google. I had no proof of Jane's possible infidelity so, I elected to go with an equal split divorce.

I knew by the ringtone she was calling. It was nine in the evening when I answered. She didn't seem very happy, "JOE! What's going on? I just walked in and a bunch of stuff is missing."

"It's not missing Jane; I took it when I left."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I begged you not to go, but you did. You tossed me aside like I didn't matter after I told you what would happen. You went anyway and now we're done."

She cried out, "NO, oh god no! I just needed some time to think, to get away for a while, and that's all. I don't want to lose you."

"My lawyer will be in touch."

"WAIT JOE!"

I hesitated, "What Jane?"

She hesitated, "Something awful happened. I got robbed and they stole my credit cards, bank card, and driver's license. I called the credit card companies, but I can't do anything about my bank account. Call the bank right away before they steal everything."

My knee jerk reaction was to chuckle and it was a good thing I held back. When I found out how she was robbed I wouldn't be laughing at all, "Our money is safe. My lawyer will be in touch."

I hung up before she could say anything else and turned the ringer off. I wasn't ready yet to block her number because I might need to speak with her as the legal stuff took off. I was no longer interested in talking to her about anything else.

I thought for a second, then called the Columbus Police Department. Jane had reported the crime and had spent most of the day Monday being questioned. It seemed that the police thought she was holding something back, which she was, and they had a suspicion that they knew why. I asked for a copy of the police report for insurance purposes, and after verifying I was who I said I was (not an easy feat over the phone), they emailed me the report. After reading it, I forwarded it to my lawyer to make of it what she would.