So What Happens Next?

So What Happens Next??

Do you want to know what happened next? This is what. I didn't ask for any kind of O.K. to elaborate on someone else's story, so this is stand-alone. But it is short and simple. You'll see.

***********************************************************************************

I am down the street from my house, listening to the audio and watching the video of the action in my house. My wife was getting ready to meet me on our 10th wedding anniversary, for dinner. I knew about her affair and the fascination she had for my boss. His reputation with married wives had finally caught up with him. I was tipped off by a really pissed-off husband of another woman in the office that he had seduced. But it was too late. My wife had already succumbed. Typical measures-cameras in the house, mics all over, her phone tapped. Relatively easy and cheap. No P/I's involved- she was too easy and sloppy, once I started watching.

My boss finished his business- a blow job, for God's sake's-, and left. I started the car and left. She had to go get ready AGAIN for our date. I thought it was over, and the paperwork was ready to be served, based on how she reacted to my confrontation tonight at dinner. But it wasn't over, was it? Based on what I'd seen and heard, the marriage was over, though.

Everything was saved to a cloud storage site, subject to recall, dissemination, and use in court. But it probably won't be necessary. After tonight.

I followed him to his bar hookup. I pulled up in the alley, while he went to one of the covered parking spots on the side of the club. I pulled on a black balaclava, donned leather gloves, and checked the.45 cal. Colt auto, and slipped out to intercept him as he made his way to the front door. The decorative bushes screened us from the few early patrons. I brushed past him and turned and blew the back of his head off. I stooped and grabbed his watch, rings, cash, car keys, and his wallet. Of course, the simpering fuck had a money clip. Showoff!!

I dumped his wallet, keeping the credit cards and other money, and left his driver's license. I wanted him ID'd. I turned, got in my car, and left. I headed for home.

Meanwhile- My wife

I went back upstairs and got cleaned up. This stupid obsession with Dave had to end. Or not. I loved the submissiveness of it. I couldn't get enough. I thought it was over. He used you, then cast you aside. It had been almost four weeks, and I thought he was out of my system. Then, a knock on the door, he walks in, and I was naked and sucking his cock. I was hooked.

I checked my makeup in the mirror- a second time that night. I looked at the watch my husband had given me for our 5th anniversary; a Longines. Good, I had ten minutes before the Uber showed up. I raced downstairs in the two-story showcase home I had to have. Mortgaged to the hill. And it was upside down in financing. There was almost zilch in equity, but it was what I wanted and my sucker husband couldn't say no. Whatever I wanted, I got. That's what 'entitled women' could do. I checked my hair in the hall mirror just as the car arrived. I left for the restaurant. (He'll never know! I remembered thinking.)

Back to Me

I arrived just as my wife was leaving. I waited down the block as the Uber left, then pulled into the driveway. I went in and upstairs, grabbed my two suitcases and my duffel, and packed everything I wanted. Then I went downstairs and put them in the back of my Ford Edge. Her Audi was safely ensconced in the garage. It was in her name, too. I loved the shit that was coming.

I went back in and got myself a Coke from the fridge. I walked into the living room, placed the can of soda on the end table (NO COASTER), and spooled up the tube. I turned off my phone. Went to Paramount and found Deadpool 2 and proceeded to enjoy myself.

Wife, again

I arrived at the restaurant and got to our table, ten minutes early. No husband. No problem. I ordered a hurricane and sat down to wait. There was a dance floor and after about thirty minutes (I was starting to be concerned) I was fending off sleazes who wanted to dance. I tried calling my husband, but it went straight to voicemail. After an hour, with his mailbox full, I was pissed. Where the fuck was he? It never dawned on me that something could be wrong with him. After almost two hours, and having several men removed from my table, I rose paid my now sizable tab, called for an Uber, and staggered to the front door. Refusing several 'unsolicited' offers of assistance, my ride showed up and I gave him my address. I stewed and fumed all the way to the house. It was close to 10:30, almost three hours past our dinner reservation. ON OUR TENTH ANNIVERSARY!! I was furious. I would ream his ass out for standing me up. He better be dead. Who the fuck did he think he was??

We pulled up and I paid the driver. Well, I gave him my credit card. I was about out of folding money. I saw his car in the driveway. I was going to castrate him. Who the fuck did he think he was?? I stormed into the house and yelled. "MICHEAL? WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU??" His mellow response cut me to the quick.

"In the living room, cunt. What's it to you?"

Stunned, I stumbled into the front room, where we seldom, if ever, entertained. It was much too formal and swanky to just sit in. I walked in and there he was. WATCHING TELEVISION! SITTING ON MY DAMASK SETTEE!! AND THERE WERE FIVE COKE CANS ON THE COFFEE TABLE- WITHOUT COASTERS!!! I exploded, in my drunken stupor.

"You stupid fuck, what are you doing? Where were you? I waited for almost three hours at the restaurant."

Calmly, I answered.

"I was salvaging my life, bitch. Now shut the fuck up and sit down. WE NEED TO TALK. Or at least I do. You need to listen." I had been busy while she was out. I had recorded the breaking news. About the killing and mugging at a local nightspot. Now stunned at my retort, she slumped on a chair and her mouth was sagging open.

"Now, here's what is going to happen." I slapped the divorce papers down on the table in front of her. Complete with pictures and transcripts of audio. Three thumb drives with videos fell across the surface of her precious table. I had taken everything out of the fabled manila envelope so that she would see them right away. I looked her square in the face and started.

"It's over slut. I know about your obsession with my boss and your disgusting affair. Even doing it in our bed. Did I ever get sloppy seconds? Knowing the way you were behaving, I might have gotten sloppy thirds. I give a shit. It's over. You have two days to sign the papers. TWO DAYS!! Then it goes from 'irreconcilable differences' to adultery and fraud, and we go to court. If it gets that far, everything- AND I MEAN EVERYTHING- goes on the internet and to your parents, my parents, our friends, your company, the church, and the newspapers. Not to mention his wife. Two days. No negotiations. You will contact me through my lawyer. The house will be sold, and whatever is left will be split. Our bank accounts will be split 50/50. I am disgusted with you and can't stand the sight of you. Do you know how the modern version of the opposite of love is indifference? BULLSHIT!! It's hate, pure and simple. Right now I hate you, pure and simple, cunt.

"Oh yeah, while you were waiting for dinner you missed the news."

I hit play on the big screen and the recorded newscast started.

"Repeating the breaking news story, local businessman and well-known philanderer David Spencer was found shot to dead and apparently robbed outside of a local watering hole, the Pickup Spot. Police have no suspects. Metro crime scene investigators are looking for security cameras, but apparently, there were none on at the time, probably because of the area and the usual type of activities going on here. We will keep you updated as the ......"

I ended the recording.

"Good thing I don't have a gun. Happy Anniversary, slut. I am sorry you won't get to crawl on your knees to him ever again and call him 'daddy'. At least you won't ever get to call me daddy either. Thank God for small favors."

I left her in a screaming, fetal-shaped ball on the floor.

I rose and left. Two days later, she returned the papers to my lawyer- signed, with a note saying, 'She was sorry. She didn't know why she did what she did.' I laughed, then cried.

Epilogue

I was divorced in 4 months. I was interviewed by police, twice. The second time with my lawyer. But hey had nothing, and my lawyer advised them that there were so many other fucked over husbands and marriages, not to mention his wife, that maybe the cops should look elsewhere.

I left my job and moved to Galveston. I got a better position, just not paying as much, but working for a woman. I met her sister, Cassie, who had a similar background story to me. Divorced, from an abusive cheater, with a 5-year-old son who was starting to rebel. He took to me in a heartbeat. I kind of like him too. After six months, I figured I should marry his mom because in another six months, she's going to have our child.

Life goes on. Cassie is my be-all and end-all. She loves me. Thanks for listening. It helps.

It's been a tough time he in God's other paradise (so they call it). I got no jokes, and with the world the way it is, I figured God's about to pull the plug on us anyway. So Happy New Year!

Try and shape up and maybe He'll give us another chance. The Bears say Hey.

The BEARS