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The self-doubt and the guilt poured onto me like a molten iron. This was my fault. I had neglected my wife for too long. I had given my boss the opportunity to step in and take her. I had to leave. I pulled myself from the floor and somehow in a fog I packed everything I owned and loaded it into my measly truck. I left the town, left my job, and left my cheating wife behind. I drove for days and weeks. I never looked back and I never intend to go back.
I am not sure what happened after I left town. I don't talk to anyone from back home expect my mom. She tries to get me to tell her what happened, but I never will. I assume by now she has figured it out. She told me once that Carmen had delivered a baby boy and asked if I was going to come home now. When I told her the kid wasn't mine, she stopped asking her prying questions or telling me anything about what was happening. I assumed when I got the divorce papers that Carmen was moving on with Chad, but I never found out anything.
I live in Houston now, about as far away from Pennsylvania as I was willing to go. I work a construction job and keep to myself. I don't date and I haven't made friends. I live in a studio apartment in a pretty sketch part of town. Carmen and Chad are not a part of my life. Well, not in any real sense of the word, only in the sense that they play on my computer screen each night as I relieve the most devastating thing that has ever happened to me while I get my rocks off. It's my own penitence for how I treated my wife. It's what I deserve.
********
"That's some story," the psychiatrist said, "that is a lot of trauma, but I think we need to find a better way of dealing with it." The psychiatrist looked at the man on the couch. "This isn't about punishing yourself Bryan. You were not to blame in what your wife and boss did. You have to stop punishing yourself for something that was out of your control. You need to move on with your life."
"Have you watched the video?" The psychiatrist shook her head no. "Watch the video. After you do and you see some of the best fucking you've ever seen, and you watch my wife pouncing on another man like a wild animal, then when you say it isn't my fault I may believe you, but until you watch and can say that with a straight face I am not changing."
The psychiatrist moved to the computer behind her desk. "I am only going to watch it to prove my point." She quickly pushed the thumb drive into her computer. Bryan heard the familiar message from Chad and kept his eyes trained on the psychiatrist as the events in the massage room unfolded. Her saw as her eyes grew wide as Chad exposed himself to the camera, watched as her breathing deepened when Chad slammed Carmen against the wall, and looked on as her face turned pink with her arousal as his wife was painted with Chad's cum. The video ended and she looked up and took a gulp.
"It wasn't your....It wasn't your fault," the words came out in a stutter. "I...I mean you had no control..." but then she stopped talking and tried to compose herself, but Bryan was up. He moved to the desk and snatched the thumb drive from the computer.
"Don't feel bad, Doc. You aren't the first person I have seen about this and I promise the message is always the same until they watch the video. I keep hoping someone can help, but it is always the same. Until I find someone that can give me answers of how to deal with this I will continue with my atonement." And with that Bryan was out the door, back to relive the worst day of his life over and over again.
