Sinking the Navy

She opened her purse, and slid the second phone into a zippered side pocket. My heart sank lower than I thought possible--this was a full-scale affair, run like a military op, not just a random hookup for a little nookie.

I returned with the water and found her lying in bed under the covers, playing sick again. Leaving to go, I turned in a way that put my body between her and her purse. Then I lifted it, and made a quick exit, always keeping it on my far side.

At the bottom of the stairs, I put her purse on the side table where she always put it when she got back home. Unzipping the side pocket, I found the second phone, a cheapie burner. Opening it up, I saw it had only one contact, her doctor hero.

What a mess.

--

Wasting to time, I left and took refuge in the temple of overpriced coffee. Scrolling through Brenda's burner phone, what remained of my love shriveled at the endless text record. I emailed the string to myself, then sat back and wondered what to do. My fairy tale was over, with all my happilies in the past, none left for ever after. In the beginning I used to think it was too good to be true. Two decades of a happy life lulled me to sleep. Today was like someone violently shook me awake. It's true: I really wasn't good enough for the Everything Queen.

Pulling up my smartphone I looked up Dr. Richard Brannon on the web. No surprise, he was married with two middle schooler kids, and a stay-at-home wife. Knowing his address, I decided to spread my knowledge.

I knocked on her front door, handed her Brenda's burner phone, a thumb drive with the video footage I had captured, along with a business card, and turned around. "Call me if you have any questions."

Ten minutes later I received an incoming call from a number I didn't recognize. "Hello?"

"Mr. Stokes, this is Karen Brennan. If you're not too far, can you turn back so we can talk?"

She opened the door before I could ring the bell, eyes red from her tears. Without a word, she stepped aside.

It felt odd to walk into a stranger's living room and sit. She sat next to me on the sofa, still sniffling. "Mr. Stokes, when did you take this?"

"My friends call me Stokey."

"Karen. So, when?"

"A few hours ago. I'm sorry to spring it on you like this, but you can imagine how shocked and hurt I was when I saw them. Not to mention the lies my wife followed up with."

She nodded. "I can understand that. The cheating turd. It's not his first time."

"I'm sorry."

She sniffled. "Not your fault. What are you going to do?"

"Divorce, it's inevitable. I'll never be able to trust her again. You?"

"Same." She sighed. "It'll devastate the kids, but I don't see any way around it."

"I'm sorry about that. Do you know a good divorce lawyer?"

"I don't, but my sister does. I'll call her and let you know. Do you want to stay until Rick gets back, and confront him here?"

"That actually sounds like a great idea. Maybe I can goad him into assaulting me. If he does, make sure to capture it on your phone. But I have to get a few things done first. I'll wait outside, and follow him in."

I drove my car a few houses down and got to work. First thing, I called a realtor and set up an appointment to list the house the following day. Next I got online with the bank and did all the money split stuff.

My phone rang, its caller ID showing Carmen Gillespie, our neighbor across the street. "Hi, Carm, what's up?"

"Hey, Stokey, a guy in a black BMW just came to pick up Brenda. Something didn't look right, so I thought I'd let you know."

"What a great neighbor! Thanks, Carm. That probably was Brenda's boyfriend who came to pick her up so she can fetch her car from the hospital. You wouldn't happen to know what model BMW it was, would you?"

"A 3-series."

"Interesting. Thanks for the heads-up. Did you notice anything else?"

"No, that was it. He wasn't here long. I'm curious how she got home if she didn't have her car. Are you sure it's not in the garage?"

"No, I'm not sure of anything anymore, but thanks for the heads-up. Can I call you later? I have a few things I need to take care of right now."

"No problem, you have my number."

A text arrived from Karen with the divorce lawyer's contact info, adding I made us an appointment for tomorrow at ten.

After thanking her, a call to my business lawyer confirmed that the trust owning my company was out of reach, having been set up in Luxembourg.

When I asked him if he knew Greta Delaney, the divorce lawyer, he whistled. "Even the sharks swim wide circles around her. You're in good hands."

Finally, I saw a black 3-series slow down and pull up on the Brennans' driveway. I waited until he entered the front door, drove up and rang the doorbell.

Karen opened and stood aside for me to enter.

"Who are you?" Rick the Prick snarled, "and what's the meaning of walking into my house?"

"Hi Rick, I just wanted to meet the dick who's fucking my wife. She tells me your peepee is so small she has to fake her orgasms. So, I was curious to see if you have any other redeeming features."

As she readied her phone, Karen snickered with a hand before her mouth, while Rick' face grew red with rage. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Oh, so you're drilling more than one married woman? You need to know which one's come to laugh at you?"

"Get the fuck out of my house before I kill you," he roared and charged me. He telegraphed his first haymaker so clumsily I was able to duck so it only grazed me. Having established that he was the attacker, I carefully tripped him as he flew by me. I managed to get in two blows to his kidneys before he crashed to the floor. I quickly moved in behind him and landed three hard kicks to his family jewels. Howling with pain, he curled into a fetal position.

I leaned in closely and spoke so Karen's phone would not pick this up. "This is what happens when you fuck married women, you worthless prick."

Karen grinned, then fist-bumped me. "That was awesome! I'll send you the footage."

Giving her a hug, I took my leave.

--

When I got home, Brenda's car was in the garage, all normal. She must have used the keypad to open the garage door, because her clicker was still in my truck after I took it out of Rick the Dick's Beemer.

Inside, she was all sweet and lovey dovey. "Welcome back. I'm feeling much better. Want me to order some takeout for dinner?"

It took me a while to register: with no phone she likely had no idea what was going on outside. I still had her regular phone in my pocket--I'd completely forgotten about it. She was unable to call anyone.

"How did you get your car?" I asked.

"I called an Uber when I felt better."

Another lie. Cool as a cucumber. How could she call if I had one phone and her lover's wife had the other? There was no possible way I could live with someone who lied so glibly and convincingly. She had just wiped out any vestige of doubt.

--

The next day, I met with Karen, the manwhore doctor's wife, at the lawyer's office. "How is Dick today?" I asked with a smirk.

"Not happy. He called the police to charge you with assault. They made a house call, and after his exaggerated description they were all ready to go and arrest you. Then I played the video, which showed him taking the first swing, and you stopping after only a few blows when you saw you were in no more danger. The cops asked how we knew each other, and I said, with a smile, 'my husband was fucking this guy's wife, and he wanted to confront hubby.' For some reason, that changed everything. They put away their notepads, smiled, and took off. Rick left and checked into a motel when I told him we're done. Now, let's make the parting happen."

Epilogue

Greta Delaney, the divorce lawyer, lived up to her reputation. Turned out Rickie the Dickie was boning another hospital employee (single, this time), who bore him a son. Child support and alimony payments took a big bite out of his paycheck. Add to that the loan on his stolen 7-series, which he had to pay off, because it somehow came out that his car was left unlocked with the key in it, giving the insurance company an out, so they didn't pay a cent. The good news for him was my few kicks to his family jewels rendered him unable to procreate, thus saving on any future child support payments.

Brenda fared little better. Because she had a job, she didn't get alimony. We sold our house, and had enough to afford down payments on something more modest, so, despite her cheating, she came out of it better than she deserved. I figured she was pretty enough to have guys stand in line to date her, and that's how it played out. However, no guy wanted to take a long-term risk with her, and years later, she was still single, working and dating. Her face launched no more ships, and her body no more navies. Lonely Desperate Queen is the latest title in her royal career.

It took me a few years, but I finally met someone who hailed from my social zip code and matched my interests and values, and we went on to have a fun and happy life... but that's another story. Maybe you'll see it one day in the Romance section...