The Lie

The Lie

I should probably apologize for this story as I have revisited an old theme. I just became enamored of the idea and there was no way to exorcise it from my brain other than to write it.

Some people will hate this one as it wrestles with the themes of forgiveness and revenge.

I will add that I don't always know how a story will end when I write it. This was intended to be something quite different, and then it took me in its own direction.

There is no explicit sex in this story.

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All my life I've been what some people called "a straight arrow." I believed a man should tell the truth, keep his word, and live with honor. That includes providing forgiveness when needed, but I've never been a sucker for anyone.

This night, I threw all that out the window. I would lie and break my word, and the only honor I would have would be the self-respect that comes with vengeance. Screw forgiveness.

I sat in my car outside the Nickel Inn. It's a bar in town. Don't ask me how it got the name. It's been here since my dad was in short pants and beers probably cost a nickel. I knew Jeff would be inside. He always stopped in for a drink on the way home from work.

I'd known Jeff since we were in grade school. He's been my best friend for as long as I can remember. He stood up for me when I married Barb and I stood up for him when he married Claire. There hasn't been a time when he wasn't a part of my life. We were like brothers and practically lived at each other's house growing up. In many ways, that never changed when we got married and it wasn't unusual for them to walk into our house or us into theirs unannounced.

Betrayal changes a man.

Not five hours ago I'd run home on my lunch hour to pick up some files I'd left there. Nothing seemed amiss. I walked through the front door and was headed for my office when I heard them. A husband's first thought is "My wife's in trouble!" You imagine a struggle. Then I heard his voice, and I knew. Between the grunts there was laughter. I walked up to the open bedroom door, looked inside, and all doubt ceased. They never saw me. I'm not the type to linger and watch my wife and best friend betray me, so I just turned and walked back out the front door the way I'd come. My life as I knew it was over. I never did get those files, and I didn't remember them until hours later.

Back at work I was useless. I just sat there and replayed what I'd seen, thinking, asking questions no husband should ever need to ask. "Why? How long? Have there been others? Are my kids even mine?" I wondered how I could even go home again and what would I do when I got there? "Maybe I should just get in my car, start driving, and not stop until I'm a thousand miles away." Then my mind turned to darker thoughts. I'd divorce her and kill him. I'd leave her with nothing.

Then in time, I thought about my kids. I could live without a wife, but I could not deprive them of their mother.

I decided that I had very little choice. I would confront them both in my own way and at my own time, but first I would spin my web of lies like they had spun theirs.

Driving to the Nickel Inn I wondered, "How could two people I've known for so many years betray me this way? What is wrong with me? Did I change? Did they?" I would think these thoughts for weeks and months to come as I would wrestle with the horrible feelings of inadequacy. I thought, "There is no answer to questions like this because the only people with the answers can't be trusted to speak the truth." I felt truly lost and alone.

The truth would be the first thing sacrificed tonight.

It was no trick wearing a mask of anger and disappointment as I walked into the Nickel Inn. Jeff saw me shortly after I entered and called out, "John! Over here, bud!"

"Son of a bitch!" I thought to myself. I nodded, exhaled, and dropped my eyes to the floor as I walked so he wouldn't see that the rage within me was directed at him. Walking over, I took a chair at his table. He had Ralph with him. Ralph is a buddy of his from work. This was going to be better than I imagined.

"Just in time, John! I was going to order a glass, but now we can order a pitcher."

"Just a glass for me. I can't afford to be pulled over tonight."

"Man, you look like your dog just died. What's wrong with you?"

"I don't have a dog, Jeff. You know that. There's just me and the wife now that the kids are off at school." That's when it hit me -- empty nest syndrome. Was that it? Was that what made her betray me?

"So what's bothering you?" Jeff looked to have equal parts worry for me and maybe worry for himself. That's the thing about a cheat. They always know they might get caught, and they are always worried that they may have left a trail.

"She's killed me, Jeff. She's fucking killed me. I'm a dead man and all that's left is to fall down."

"What the hell are you talking about? Who's killed you? You're not dead. You're sitting right here. Come on, John! Whatever it is, it can't be that bad."

I looked him in the eye and said, "She gave me AIDS, Jeff. Barb gave me AIDS."

They say the face turns pale when a person is in shock and green when they are seasick. We were miles from the sea, but the color I saw that day was green. My former best friend turned a shade of unearthly green, jumped from the table, and ran for the men's room. He didn't make it. Whatever was in his stomach that night was splattered across the barroom floor. Customers ahead and behind, to his left and his right all yelled in disgust and leapt from their seats to escape the mess and the stench. He was conspicuously alone. A sick drunk is not a popular individual in a bar and to the other customers that is all he was.

When the excitement was done, I turned back to the table and stared at Ralph. He looked like a man who wanted to run.

"My wife is cheating on me. Hell of a way to find out, don't you think?"

Ralph just nodded. The only word to describe his look was fear. I wondered if he would put the pieces of the puzzle together later?

Jeff finally cleaned himself up as best he could. Walking back to our table he was not a popular man. He drew stares and comments the whole way.

He reached our table, and looking down at me he asked, "Are you sure? How do you know?"

"I've been feeling off and the doctor ordered blood tests. The results came in today."

Jeff just nodded, turned and walked out of the bar.

Message sent.

Ralph found a good excuse to leave a minute later, and I wondered who he would tell first? Either way, I enjoyed a cold beer as I considered my next move. I wondered briefly what the other tables must be thinking of me as I sat there quietly grinning to myself as I enjoyed my beer. I had sent the message quietly enough so that the neighboring tables had no idea what got into Jeff or why Ralph left so abruptly. It didn't matter.

With my glass empty and my pulse surprisingly steady for a dead man, I paid the tab and walked to my car. I chuckled as I walked and thought, "Assholes! They stuck me with the check!" No matter. It was a small price to pay for the satisfaction I was feeling.

It was about seven when I got home. Dinner was burned and there was smoke coming from the oven. I turned it off and opened a window. I figured I knew where Barb might be, so I put on my best death face and walked into the bedroom. I found her lying face down on the bed, sobbing and shaking.

I thought to myself, "Message sent, and message received."

In the most matter-of-fact voice I could muster, I said, "You having a bad day?"

She screamed and her cries became louder.

"I'm having a bad day, too. I know what happened to me. What happened to you?" I can be a real jerk sometimes.

Between the cries I heard a muffled, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

You know, for a moment I actually felt sorry for what I'd done. Then I remembered what I'd seen earlier that day and my regret didn't last. I started moving my clothes to the guest room and she noticed my efforts on the second trip.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm moving into the guest room."

"Please don't! I need you here!"

I just stared at her and continued moving my clothes.

Later that night there were muffled phone calls. I made no effort to listen, but one thing came through loud and clear when Barb yelled into the phone, "You were the only one, asshole! I got it from you!"

Three guesses who she was talking to. It was strangely comforting to know that Jeff had been the only one, and it put a smile on my face. Whatever possessed her to cheat on me, it seems it was a recent and limited phenomenon.

It didn't take long for my anger to return and not long after that my chastened wife sat across from me and asked, "Can we talk?"

"You talk. I'll listen."

She was wringing her hands and staring at the floor. "I did a terrible thing. I know that. I don't know if you can ever forgive me, but there are some things I want you to know. First, I am as sorry as anyone could ever be. I don't know what got into me."

"Poor phrasing." I thought.

She continued. "Second it was only twice and both times with the same man. I know that doesn't excuse anything, but I don't want you to think I've done this sort of thing before." At that, she raised her head and looked me in the eyes. "Please, get DNA tests if you want, but don't ever think the children aren't yours. They are. I swear on all that's holy. I was a good wife for twenty-five years. I never cheated on you. Then, these past two months, I got stupid."

"Who was it?" I knew damn well who it was, but they say that confession is good for the soul.

"Please, don't make me tell you."

"Then I guess we're done here!"

"No! Please? I've hurt you too much already."

"I want a name."

After a long hesitation, she said, "Okay, it was Jeff."

"My friend Jeff? Claire's husband Jeff?" I tried to keep the volume to a dull roar.

She just nodded.

I decided to look like I was processing the new information. Maybe I'd make her convince me.

"Why'd you do it?" That was about all the words I could produce at that point.

She was shaking her head. "The first time I'd had too much to drink. You were away and Jeff came over. He just knocked and walked in the way he always does. We were talking and he was making jokes like always. We were drinking some wine and I guess I had too much. It was one and done. I couldn't get him out of the house fast enough. I was so ashamed that I cried all night."

"And then?"

She looked at me with a sadness and a guilt the likes of which I have never seen. "I honestly don't know. Every time I've seen Claire since that first time, I've felt so guilty. I couldn't live with myself. But then the kids are moved out, we're both working, and I've been feeling old. I know it's no excuse and I can't give you a reason to forgive me. I just want you to know it's never happened before. It was just those two times and only with Jeff. I know you hate me, but please believe I was faithful to you from our first date until two months ago."

There wasn't a lot I could say. I listened and I wondered, but I tended to believe her. Twenty-five years of marriage teaches you when your spouse is lying, or at least I thought it did. Now I had my doubts.

"I have a lot to think about." With that, I headed off to bed in the guest room. That wasn't much, but it was the biggest bone I intended to throw to her.

As you might imagine, the next few days were quiet in our house, or they were quiet and punctuated by the occasional angry words by me. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed to me that Barb was getting smaller.

This was about as far as I had thought it through. I wanted to cause the two of them as much pain as I could muster, but I was at a loss as to what to do next. Plus, I wanted my revenge on Jeff and so far, all I had was him making a spectacle of himself at the bar. Little did I know!

They say there is no honor among thieves, but Jeff surprised me in two ways. First, he really was cheating on Claire with several other women. Second, he did the honorable thing and told them that he might have given them HIV, or did Ralph put two and two together and spread the word? I'll probably never know. Either way, I did not see that coming! Neither did his wife as a string of women showed up at her door looking to do bodily harm to Jeff. They were not shy about telling his wife everything.

I would have thought that Jeff might have told his wife before he told his girlfriends, but Jeff wasn't wired that way. I guess he was working up the courage, or maybe he was getting himself tested first. No matter. The next week found Jeff moving into a hotel room and looking to rent a cheap apartment. I had no sympathy for him.

It was about this time that I had a minor epiphany. I was reviewing the carnage of the past week when it occurred to me, "Damn! I probably should get myself tested for real." The test eventually came back negative, and I began to think that I had dodged a bullet.

It was becoming clear to me that I hadn't thought this through. That fact was driven home to me about a week after I verbally sucker punched Jeff with my story about HIV. When my wife got herself tested and it came back negative, and still thinking that I had tested positive, her shame and guilt evaporated almost immediately. Barb came storming into my office one afternoon spitting curses that would make a marine blush. She slammed my office door behind her and started in on me. She waved her test results at me and yelled, "Who the hell is she? You make me feel lower than dirt and all the while you've been cheating on me behind my back? Who the hell is she? You son of a bitch, when I get finished with you HIV will be just one of your problems!" She went on for a good two minutes until she finally ran out of steam.

After that, she collapsed in a chair and began to weep uncontrollably. Well, if I'd wanted my revenge, I think I got it. Now it was time to fish or cut bait.

I walked around my desk, knelt down, and wrapped my arms around her. She pushed me away violently, but continued to weep, so I wrapped my arms around her again and this time she leaned into me.

"What are we going to do, John? We've made a mess of everything."

I took a deep breath and said, "We're going to cry it out, get cleaned up, and go home. Then we're going to put our lives back together. It's going to take a lot of hard work and it starts with the F-word."

"Oh, John, we can't have sex now! You have HIV."

"The word I had in mind is FORGIVENESS and it starts with us forgiving each other."

"I do forgive you, John, but our lives together are ruined." She sobbed as she said it.

"No they're not. Barb, look at me. I forgive you for your affair and you need to forgive me for lying to you."

She now seemed as much confused as angry. "We both lied to each other, John. That's what betrayal is."

"No, Barb, I mean I lied to you about having HIV. I don't. I came home that day and saw you with Jeff. I was so enraged that I stormed out of the house and plotted my revenge. I decided to tell Jeff that you had given me HIV knowing that it would scare him to death. The truth is that's about as far as my thinking went. After that I was just reacting to whatever happened."

Barb's face slowly morphed through a range of emotions as she worked to process the new information. I honestly had no idea what was going to happen next, and in spite of that she surprised me.

Her entire tone changed. Instead of anger, there was concern. Her voice became quiet as if the anger and hurt had been drained away as she put the pieces together in her mind. "So you aren't sick?"

"No."

"And you aren't going to die?"

"No."

"You scared the hell out of me, John."

"You hurt the hell out of me, Barb."

She thought about it some more. "And you were never cheating with some bimbo?"

"No, Barb, I would never cheat on you."

"I guess that makes me the only cheat in the family." She looked deflated as she said it. "We're quite a pair, aren't we, John?"

"I suppose we are. Do you think we're worth another try?"

For the first time since she walked into my office she smiled. "Yes, John."

"Okay. How about I pack my briefcase and we go home early?"

"Yes, John."

We held hands as we walked the corridors of my office and exited the building. I was strangely proud of this woman at that moment. She had cheated on me with my best friend, and yet she felt the guilt and the shame, and she had paid the price of looking in the mirror and not liking what she saw. I was optimistic that we could rebuild this marriage and make it stronger.

"I'm still mad at you, John."

"I know. The feeling's mutual."

We were mad, but we had tears in our eyes as well. Only time would tell if we had the character and the commitment to forgive each other. I was betting we would.

Epilogue:

Forgiveness can't be earned; it can only be given. Harder still, rebuilding trust is a constant struggle. Still, we faced the reality of our actions, accepted our responsibilities, and we worked at healing each other. Barb was quick to admit that she understood my actions and held no grudge against me. I have never quite reached that point with her, but I do admit that we are all human and we make mistakes for which we are truly sorry.

There was one more act of forgiveness needed and that took me to Claire's front door. My actions against Jeff had caused her untold fear as she assumed that she might have HIV as well. I apologized for not telling her sooner so that she wouldn't worry. I had to admit that in all my anger and pain I had never thought of her. In one difficult conversation she went from anger, to forgiveness, to downright amusement as she laughed at my own personal payback to her soon-to-be ex-husband. She and Barb were never able to repair their relationship which I think was a source of great loss to them both.

I saw no reason to forgive Jeff. He was a predator who we had allowed into our lives, and we were better off without him. I never told him I was clean, or that Barb did not have HIV, and I never saw a reason to.

Ralph did his job better than I would have expected. To her great embarrassment, Barb needed to explain time and again that rumors of her illness were greatly exaggerated, that she did not have HIV, and that she and I were still together. It seems that no one Ralph told has bothered to tell Jeff, either.

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I know that some will hate this story. To them, I can only say "Try writing a story about forgiveness. It isn't easy."