The BBC

They were both headed for the nirvana until my loud, cold words broke the spell and denied them their bliss.

"Hey guys!" I said throwing the door open widely enough that all of the yoga students in the class could see what was going on. Their eyes popped open displaying surprise and several other things. "What yoga pose is that?"

They quickly tried to get away from each other and in the process the guru pushed too hard against Dana's over extended leg. She screamed and fell heavily to the floor, writhing in pain.

He looked at me and at the shocked faces of all of the yoga students in the open doorway.

Dana even through her pain had the presence of mind to try to lie her way out of it.

"Eric, Baby," she moaned. "It's not what you think."

"What is it then, Bitch," I growled. "Cause what I think is that you were fucking this Hindu Horn dog! I mean I may not be an expert but that looked more like screwing than yoga."

"Ereek ... I know theess looks bad, but what you think you saw you did not see," said the guru a balding middle aged Indian man that I'd met a couple of times before this.

"Oh Shit ... he's quoting Will Smith," I said. He looked confused and that confusion was still on his face as I approached him. Then realizing his danger and my temper the guru jumped back landing lightly on the balls of his feet in what looked like a Karate stance.

It just looked ridiculous with his legs bent into a near crouch and his hands balled into fists. His balls dangled just below his short thick dick that was still obscenely shiny due to a healthy coating of my moaning soon to be ex-wife's pussy juice.

I looked at his dick and he went into self-preservation mode. He stood straight up and his hands dropped to protect his gonads. That was when I punched him in the mouth as hard as I could.

As my fist hit his face, his neck bent backwards to absorb the shock and his body followed his head. The guru went down heavily and spat out a couple of teeth. My hand hurt so badly that I never wanted to hit anything again.

I reared my foot back and planted it between the guru's enlightened legs so hard that he slid almost a foot across the wooden floor. The yoga students that were still watching all winced from the guru's protracted, high pitched scream.

As I turned to leave, I stopped in mid step and turned back to Dana who was moaning on the floor. She was bent over clutching her thigh.

"Eric, we ... I'm sorry, Honey," she whined. "Eric my leg hurts really bad. I think I need to go to the hospital."

"Good," I spat. "That's where I was coming to take you. While you were in here fucking this fraud, your Dad had a heart attack!"

The shock on her face doubled. I started walking towards the door again. "Eric wait!" she whined. "Are you still going to the hospital? I'll ride over there with you. I can't drive with my leg like this. I can't even move it."

I turned back to her again. "Dana remember when I first bought my newer Mustang? You were worried about me using the car to hook up with women like I was having some kind of early onset middle aged crisis. You made me make a solemn promise. What was it?"

I scratched my head as if I was trying to remember. "Oh yeah!" I said. "You made me promise that no skanks or sluts would ever get into my car and considering current circumstances I'm afraid I can't offer you a ride."

As I finally left the room I noticed that less than five minutes had passed. It took less than three hundred seconds for me to morph from happily married man to miserable soon to be divorced guy.

I was so lost in my misery that I failed to notice Jesus and one of the guru's other disciples standing in my path.

"I called the police," he proudly stated. "You can't leave."

"Yeah," said the other bearded hipster behind him. This one was covered in tattoos and wore glasses.

"Look Jesus," I said. "I'm pretty sure that not only are you dedicated to that turd over there, but you're an environmentally conscious, thoroughly modern, enlightened human being with the good of both the planet and humanity as the driving force of his existence ..."

He broke out in a smile and nodded at the other guy at what he thought was me praising him.

" ... but if you don't get your bearded, patchouli vaping, vegetarian ass out of my way I'm gonna stick my foot so far up your ass that the hole it leaves will swallow your bike seat so you won't be able to get home."

"That's how you Neanderthals always handle a confrontation," said the tattooed guy. "You always turn to violence."

I quickly but gently plucked his glasses off of his face and put them on the floor near him.

His shriek was louder than the guru's screaming.

He dropped to his knees looking for his glasses. Jesus moved out of my way, wisely. Unfortunately, there was a sickening crunch as his foot touched what he thought was the floor.

"Please tell me you didn't step on my fucking glasses!" yelled his angry, nearly blind friend.

"Sorry," said Jesus, earnestly.

"You're gonna be," said the other guy angrily. I couldn't help but be disgusted at the sight of two naked bearded men rolling around on the floor on top of each other.

As I passed through the reception area, the tranquility of the studio was shattered. Indira was fending off a group of angry patrons who all wanted their money back.

It took me ten minutes to get to the hospital and five minutes to find my mother in law.

She looked as if she'd been barely holding on. It was as if she needed to be strong just long enough for someone else to come in and take over the burden. As soon as I hugged her, she fell apart and started crying.

"They had to put a stent in one of his arteries," she sobbed. "That's it. He is now officially a vegetarian. No more fried foods for him. No more barbecue and beer. No chops, no chips, no sauces, no dips ... none of that unhealthy stuff." I squeezed her and nodded my head.

"You'd better wait until he's fully recovered to tell him that," I smiled.

"Why?" she asked. "It's not like he has any say in it. I'm putting my foot down."

"Yeah but when he finds out that he can't have any of his favorite things, he's gonna wish he hadn't made it."

"Where's Dana?" she asked.

"She was at yoga," I said truthfully. "I told her what had happened, then I came over here to be with you. I'm sure she's either here already or on her way."

"You're a good son in law, Eric," she said, hugging me.

About a half hour later the surgeon came in and told us that everything was fine. My father in law would make a full recovery and with some strict dietary restrictions and some mild exercises could live a long, full life.

She suggested that he not return to work for three weeks to a month, longer if his job involved anything physical. At that point, my mother in law started asking her questions and the surgeon looked frustrated. She took off her surgical cap and the mask and I recognized her. She was a pretty but older Indian woman that I'd seen a couple of times before. I just couldn't remember where.

After the surgeon left my Mom in law and I went up to the room. We'd been there about ten minutes when they wheeled Dana into the room in a wheel chair.

"How's Dad?" she asked.

"What the hell happened to you?" asked her mother.

Dana looked pleadingly at me before answering. "I sprained some muscles in my upper thigh at yoga," she said. "How's Dad?"

Her mother filled Dana in on her father's condition but Dana never took her eyes off of me. I was wracking my brain trying to come up with a way out of there.

"Uhm ... how was the car show?" Dana asked me tentatively.

"I didn't get to go," I said. "Your mom called me and some things are just more important."

"Yep, you always put family first," said Dana. "You can forgive the people you love for anything. Sometimes things just happen and we have to stick together and move on. As long as we stick together and forgive each other everything will be great!"

"Dana what the hell are you talking about?" her mother asked. "Eric knows that your father didn't intend to have a heart attack just to keep him from going to his car show. No one has to forgive anyone. You're not making any sense."

Dana looked stupid as she tried to find a way to explain what she'd said. That was when I saw my way out.

"Dana with your leg yoga'd out you're not going to be able to pick Erica up from the mall. I'd better go and get her," I said.

"You two can stop by here and pick me up later," she said.

"It would probably be better for you to go home with your mom," I said. "She shouldn't be alone at a time like this. l'll call you later."

I hugged her mom one more time and took off like I had a rocket up my ass.

I went to the mall and waited in the parking lot. I had no idea when Erica and her friend would be ready to leave. I texted her and told her to let me know when to pick her up.

I sat in my car and looked up divorce lawyers on my phone. That was when the pain of what had happened hit me. Up until that point I'd been just rolling with the punches in an attempt to keep moving so it didn't really hit me.

With nothing to do except think, the heartache settled in. In a way, my father in law and I had a lot in common. Maybe not in a physical sense but in a metaphoric one we were running parallel.

We'd both started the day out as happy family men. And at roughly the same time our hearts had been nearly shattered with life changing consequences.

His heart problems were physical. Mine were emotional. He would have to change his lifestyle if he wanted to survive. My lifestyle would also change.

He'd have to get used to a healthier diet and become more active. I'd have to make choices as well.

For both of us the day had marked the end of the innocence. He would wake up to the realization that he could no longer eat and drink anything he wanted without consequences.

I had now realized that the woman I married and loved with all of my heart had betrayed me.

My father in law might decide to never eat fattening foods again. I had to decide whether or not I could ever face Dana again. Just remembering the look in her face and that smile as that old man's thick dick stretched her pussy made it unlikely that I'd ever want to sleep with her again.

In fact, when I thought of Dana, she was already no longer the woman I loved, I thought of her the same way I thought of a problem at work. I looked at her in terms of what did I have to do to make the problem go away with the least amount of losses and ancillary issues on my part.

I just felt hollow. I felt as if the place where my heart used to be was empty. Or maybe the heart that formerly filled that space had simply stopped beating.

As I scanned my iPhone's screen there was a ridiculous number of lawyers and legal firms to scan through. How the hell could I ever pick one. I was nauseated at the prospect of making a list and making appointments with five or six of them and driving around to meetings with them.

The it came to me. The reason there were so many fucking divorce lawyers in the listings was because there were so many fucking divorces. I wasn't special ... I was just another statistic. The world at large wouldn't stop turning because I wanted to end my marriage.

Shit the world wouldn't even slow down. Truthfully the world wouldn't know about my pending divorce and wouldn't care either way. I would just become another miserable divorced guy. There are millions of them in our country alone. One more or one less wouldn't matter.

My phone actually rang as I sat there. I answered it, thinking it was Erica.

"Eric, Honey, I'm so sorry," whined Dana. "Please forgive me. I don't know how the hell it happened, but I swear it will never happen again."

I didn't say a word. The silence over the crystal clear cellular connection was deafening. I could hear her breathing. I swear I could hear her heart beating.

"Dana, was this the first time?" I asked.

"Yea ... no!" she sobbed.

"This wasn't even the first time with HIM, was it?" I asked.

She sighed heavily and I had my answer.

"Honey ... it doesn't mean anything," she said. "It was nothing. It was just an experience ... just a way of trying something new and filling some time."

"Yeah, Dana, it means something," I said. "It means the woman I married is a lying whore. It means we're probably not going to be married for much longer."

* * * * * *

Dana

My heartbeat had to be loud enough for my mom to hear it. Pain shot through me. I've never been punched in the stomach, but I felt the way being punched in the stomach had to feel.

I could barely breathe and I felt as if I was going to vomit at any second.

"What's wrong?" my mother asked.

I didn't want her to find out what was going on. I didn't understand it myself.

"Nothing, Mom," I lied. "Eric and I were just talking about how lucky we are that Dad is okay."

I tried calling him again two hours later. He didn't answer his phone or the house phone. In desperation, I tried calling my daughter Erica.

"What?" she said as she answered her phone.

"That is not the way you answer the phone young lady," I said.

"Oh hi, Mommy," she said. "I'm tired from all of the laps I swam and then all of the walking around the mall."

"Where's your father?" I asked.

"He's outside washing his car and talking to himself," she said. Even at ten years old there was a note of concern in her voice. "I don't think he's feeling well."

"Can you tell him to come to the phone?" I asked.

"Mom you know how he gets when he's washing his cars. I'll tell him to call you when he's done. Bye!" she said hanging up the phone.

I was so angry that I wanted to go home and beat her little ass. The problem was that Eric had spoiled the girl to the point that she just did whatever she wanted with no fear of reprisals.

I sat there by the phone waiting and hoping it would ring. My injured leg began to throb. I took my pain medication and was out like a light.

When I woke the next morning, the house was empty. My leg was killing me. I knew immediately where I was and why. The pain meds must have put me out for far longer than I expected, because the sun was up and out and it had to be early afternoon.

All of a sudden, I felt a chill go down my spine. I had no idea where my mother was or where Eric was. I assumed that Eric had probably skipped his morning run and would blame that on me too.

I dialed his number and it went straight to voice mail. That scared the shit out of me because I knew that Eric used a really nasty trick on his phone. Eric's phone usually rang several times before it went to voicemail to give him a chance to answer it even if he was busy.

If a call went straight to voicemail, it meant the number had been blocked. It also meant that it would let me leave as many messages as I wanted but they would all be immediately deleted and Eric would never know I had called.

I called my daughter again. Her phone rang for a long time before she finally answered it and I could tell she was pissed.

"Yes ... Mother!" she said in a tone so chilled that it belonged in a refrigerator.

"Erica, where are you?" I asked.

"Daddy took us ... you know Sarah from the swim team and her older sister, who's a total skank, to the movies while he did his run. Then he's going to the hospital to visit grandpa. Did you know that that grandpa had a heart attack? Anyway, when the movie ... that I'm missing ... is over Sarah's mom will pick us up and Daddy will pick me up from Sarah's house ... bye mom!"

I decided then and there that when this was all over Erica and I needed to have a talk. I know all about being a daddy's girl ... I used to be one. But Eric had spoiled the girl to the point that she only seemed to listen to him. And since he ALWAYS gave in to her, it was like a ten-year-old was running our house.

This morning was a clear case of that. Eric had quickly arranged to have something for Erica to do so he could go out and do his run, but neither of them gave me a second thought.

I calmed down after giving the matter some thought. After all my daughter was ten years old. I couldn't expect her to have an adult level or caring and consideration. At that age kids tend to think the world revolves around them ... especially when they're as spoiled as my daughter.

And Eric? How the hell do I even begin to describe what I did to my husband? It was going to take a lot of time and an incredible amount of ass kissing to fix what I'd done.

But I was sure it was fixable.

I took another pain pill and dozed back off to sleep. That was my pattern for the next couple of days. I pretty much stayed in bed, to let my leg heal. I did call my dad and talk to him on the phone.

It was a very lonely existence and I got the idea that my mom was pissed at me. I needed to find out why so I asked her.

"You haven't come to the hospital one damned time," she spat. "Eric is there every day. He even brought Erica a couple of times. He's your dad's son in law but he isn't his flesh and blood offspring."

"Mom ... the doctors say that if I stress the muscles around my hip anymore, I might need surgery!" I told her. "I promise I'll make it up to Daddy, but he may be healed before I am."

In desperation, I turned to my best friend, Peggy. I told her all about it holding nothing back. The idea was to get her to go and talk to Eric for me.

"I think you're taking this whole situation too damned seriously," she said. "I think that what you need to do is divorce him. Remember why you married the guy in the first place. I mean it's not like you love the guy. Shit ... take the asshole to the cleaners. If I were you I'd divorce him. That would leave you free to sit on your ass and do whatever you wanted while HE has to support YOU.

You'll be able to fuck as many guys as you want and he'll have to pay for it."

"Won't work," I said. "Eric makes more money than I do, but not enough that I'd get a ton of alimony."

"The first thing you do is quit your job, dummy," she said. "Why should you work when he can do it for you?"

I looked at her like she was crazy. "Why the hell would he put up with that?" I laughed.

"You're losing your touch, girl," she said. "Remember you only the married the guy because you got knocked up in your last month of college. You've been playing this game for too long. You're beginning to think this little suburban existence of yours is real.

You were gonna dump him in a couple of years when the kid was able to look out for herself anyway, remember? And that's another thing. You're lucky You can con the idiot out of child support payments too. He loves that kid enough to pay the max amount of child support. And I'll bet any time you tell him you need something for the kid he'll pick up overtime and bust his ass trying to get it.

You can just make up shit for the kid any time YOU want something. He'd never find out. Guys are sooo stupid. Your kid is ten fucking years old and he hasn't figured out that she isn't even his kid. What a dummy!"

She was still laughing when I heard the door slam from downstairs.

"Peggy, shut up," I said. "My mom's home. She doesn't need to know about your stupid ideas."

"Why are my ideas stupid?" she asked. "Think about it. If you do things my way you'll be able to go out and get all of the dick you want ... whenever you want it. And you'll have a guy to take care of your brat too. What do you have to lose?"

"Everything," I gushed. "I did a really stupid thing with my yoga teacher. I guess inside of the studio he had all of this authority and mystery about him. He seemed larger than life. It was kind of like he knew the secrets of the universe. Everyone there kind of worshipped the guy. And there was also the fact that well ... you know ... I've never done a guy from another country and ..."