The Ties That Bind Ch. 03

"I stood there for a moment. I wasn't terribly shocked, I knew what I was going to find, but it felt as if my life had ended. I really felt that. I felt that there was going to be no tomorrow. Something inside me died at that moment. I knew that no matter what I did or how hard I tried, I would never get the sight of Betty being fucked on that bed out of my mind - it would stay with me until the day I died.

"What I then said was mechanical. I remember, there was no emotion in my voice. In a dead tone I spoke. 'Don't come home tonight.' There was sudden movement, the guy had jumped off of her. Betty was looking at me, her face pale. I also noticed that there was a well of deep sadness there, which, at the time, I thought strange. 'You can come home tomorrow and pack whatever you want to take. After that, make sure that I never see you again. Lawyers will handle the details of the divorce. Now you can stay here tonight and fuck yourself to death.'

"I turned, went out of the door, got into my car and drove the rest of the way to Benning and my little house. I didn't sleep that night, I sat up in the living room and tried to think, but my thoughts were totally fucked up. It was now almost 6 in the morning and I had been up all night. I may have dozed a bit, but I sure didn't get any real sleep. Betty never showed. I stripped off my clothes, took a hot shower and shave and dressed in civilian clothing. I wasn't due back until this evening anyway, and I really didn't want to go into the office.

I opened the telephone book, looked under attorneys and picked one out at random. G. Philip Howell,Esq, it looked legal to me. I copied down the phone number on a piece of paper, went out the door of the house, into my car and to a little coffee shop I knew would be open at this hour. I had coffee, nothing else. I knew that it would be difficult for me to keep anything down. I sat and waited. A little after nine a.m. I called the law office of G. Phillip Howell, Esq. A woman answered and I told her my name and that I needed to see Mr. Howell and I needed to see him now.

"I guess she sensed the desperation in my voice, but anyway, she told me that there was a cancellation and that I could come in at 10 that morning. Yippee.

"Okay, let's keep this short. I told him that I wanted a divorce and I wanted it as soon as possible. He asked me for grounds and I told him to use irreconcilable differences. It sounded good to me. I asked how long it would take and he informed me that he had a few hundred divorce cases piled up. He told me that Benning was a huge base and the divorce rate there was staggering and that the courts were clogged with them. I was informed that it would take months. Fuck it, I thought. I don't care - in my mind I was already divorced. I told him to proceed, gave him a check and walked out.

I returned to the house that evening and immediately saw that Betty had been there. All of her clothing and personal belongings were gone, down to the pictures on the end table. She had also taken a few pieces of furniture - furniture that she had had before we were married. I felt a wave of anger wash over me, recognizing that she must have had help moving all of her stuff, and I strongly suspected who it was who helped her. I was sure it was her lover, the guy in the hotel room. All of a sudden, I just broke down. I sat there and cried like a baby. I don't know where all the tears came from. I wasn't prepared. I just cried and sobbed until I couldn't catch my breath. It really felt as if my life was over. My touchstone, the rock that had kept me grounded, the woman I adored more than life itself, was gone.

"Okay, life went on. Weeks passed and life continued. My co-workers knew that I was getting a divorce and they were kind to me. The really funny thing was that I got that promotion a few weeks after I caught Betty cheating. I was promoted to First Lieutenant and the Captain of our unit was promoted to Major, and one of the other Lieutenants was promoted to Captain. The new Major was transferred, the new Captain was now in charge of our little unit, and a new Second Lieutenant was shipped in to take my place. All of a sudden, my travel responsibilities were shifted to the new guy and I now had a regular 9 to 5 job in the office. I was now able to relax a bit, not work my ass off as I had been doing and reveled in not having to travel all over the damn place. It was great, except that I really didn't give a shit. There was now no purpose to my life.

"I discovered to my puzzlement that Betty had not moved away. She continued to work at the school and I found out that she had rented an apartment in town. I figured that she wanted to be near her lover. Fuck them both, I thought bitterly to myself. I also was astute enough to recognize that I was deeply disappointed that Betty had never tried to contact me. No frantic calls saying she was sorry - it was just sex- she never meant to hurt me . You know, all that horseshit. I wouldn't have even accepted her calls, but I was again deeply hurt that she hadn't even made the effort.

"It was a few weeks later that I received a call from G. Phillip Howell, Esq. That's how I thought of him, by that name. He didn't have good news. 'Lieutenant, I have some information for you which I don't think you're going to like. Your wife may contest the divorce which could become very expensive for you. What she wants is a private talk with you. If you say no, she contests it - if you agree, she'll not fight it. It's up to you.' "

"I sat there for a moment and then I told him to arrange the meeting. We would meet in his office, I didn't want anything informal like my house or a coffee shop or whatever. I wanted to keep this very business like. Maybe she try to make me change my mind and I knew that wasn't going to happen. So the next week found me walking into the conference room of the offices of G. Phillip Howell, Esq.

"I have to admit, my breath caught in my throat when I saw Betty sitting there, patiently waiting. I could see that she was wan, her face grave and a bit drawn. I didn't say a word. I pulled out a chair across the table from her and sat. I just looked at her expectantly. Shit, she was the one who requested this meeting. Let her begin."

George paused and looked at me steadily. "David, are you getting a sense of who I was at that time. Do you begin to see what a sanctimonious prick I was, and I that I didn't have any right to be so goddamn self-righteous. I'll tell you why in a moment. Let me get back to the story. I sat there and just stared at Betty. I was a little startled, those soft blue eyes were now like ice, boring right into me.

'Are you hurting, George?' she asked calmly. 'I know this is tearing you up. The hurt is deep and sharp, isn't it, George? The sense of betrayal, the humiliation. Now you know how it feels, George.' She smiled bitterly for a second.

'I've known, George. I had known for quite awhile that you were cheating, that every time you went on one of your trips, the chances were good that you were going to get laid. That hurt, George. That devastated me. You belittled me and our marriage and you didn't give a shit. Even when our relationship got so cold and empty, you just didn't give a shit,' Emily said quietly.

"'Christ," I said to myself. 'Shit, she knew? How the fuck did she know? It wasn't often and it was just sex, just a quick piece to relax me. What she did was different. A wife is supposed to be faithful,' I thought to myself. You see, David. I had placed our infidelities in two separate categories. What I had done was just a minor peccadillo, of absolutely no importance in my mind. Her infidelity was a different story. THAT was cheating. Do you understand, David. Can you understand what an idiot I was at that time?"

"Let me continue, David. Betty didn't stop lashing into me. 'At first I didn't plan on cheating, George. I thought I could get your attention with false clues. I left motel matchbooks lying around. You ignored them. I went so far as to buy condoms. I tore the cover off of one and left that wrapper right on top of the trash. You picked the trash bag up and didn't even notice the goddamn thing. You just threw it in the garage garbage can. You were really frustrating me, George. I even went so far as to get out of bed one night, after we had made love, dashed into the bathroom and put on a new and sexy pair of panties. I let your semen ooze out of me into the crotch of those panties, and then I hid them.

'A day later, George, I took out those panties and just left them ON TOP of the hamper. Not inside the hamper, on top of the other soiled clothing, but ON TOP of the lid. A sexy, bikini pair of panties with dried cum in the crotch. I figured that you couldn't miss that, you dumb schmuck. You know what you did, George. You just picked them up and tossed them into the hamper. Sometimes, George, I wonder how you manage to get through the day, you're so dumb. I was at my wit's end. Then I got your message at school. You were coming home early. I made a drastic decision. I was going to get laid and rub your face into it. I was going to make sure that you recognized how you had hurt me. This was one clue that you weren't going to miss.

'I was going to go out, pick up some guy, get laid and then come home, find you waiting for me, and then I would shove my used pussy in your face. I figured, George, you couldn't miss that. I did just that, George.' She was spitting my name out like bullets into me. She had paused to catch her breath and then continued. ' I dressed up nicely, went to an upscale hotel lounge and picked up a visiting businessman. After a bit of noodling back and forth I followed him to that motel. He didn't want to use his room in the hotel. That's when you surprised me, George. You were too dumb to recognize the clues I was leaving for you, but you managed to catch me in the act of getting laid, of cheating on you. I cheated once, but I guess it was enough. It got your attention, you hypocritical bastard. How many times did you cheat on me?'

"She paused and leaned back in her chair, catching her breath again. 'That's what I wanted to tell you, George. Now, guess what?' she said as she arose and started to leave. 'Now you can have your fucking divorce.' she said contemptuously as she closed the door behind her.

"I just sat there, totally stunned. I remember that at first I really couldn't think straight, my thoughts jumbled and random. I do remember one thing. I remember, vividly, one emotion that was sweeping through me, that almost overwhelmed me. It was a feeling of shame, of guilt. It was as if a blanket had been torn from my mind. It was as if I had suddenly grown up, had become an adult. I guess it was the shock of listening to Betty, but at that moment I fully and totally understood what she had just said. The shame and guilt just washed over me. I felt like crawling under a rock.

"I know, I know, people don't just change in an instant, but I did, David. I changed, I went from a self-centered, self absorbed, hypocritical prick to something else. I didn't know what that something else was at the time, but it was at that moment that I knew that I, not Betty, had screwed up royally. It was I that had caused all of this grief. My selfishness, my concentration on me, me, me. I knew that I loved Betty and at the same time I had destroyed our marriage. Was I fucked up, or what. This all came to me in a flash. I know, it sounds like fiction, but that's what happening to me. I sat there for about 20 or 30 minutes, most of that time was spent cursing, cursing myself.

"I then rose, went into the outer office and left a message with G. Phillip Howell, Esq.'s secretary. I told her to please inform the attorney that I wanted to drop the divorce action. I asked her to mail me a final statement and that I would send him a check. I then turned, walked out of the office and into my car. My actions were mechanical, almost robotic. I realized that I was praying, my mind was praying that it all wasn't too late. I wasn't too optimistic, but I knew what I had to do.

"I knew where Betty lived. I knew where her apartment was. Fearfully and slowly I drove and parked on the street in front of her place. I didn't dare hesitate, I would have lost my nerve. Whatever the result, I knew that I had to do this. I almost stumbled up the stairs and stood at her door.

"Summoning up whatever courage I had, I kocked and waited. Betty opened the door and looked at me, her face expressionless. She then turned and walked away, but left the door open. I walked in and saw that she had seated herself in a chair in her living room. She said not a word, just looked up at me.

"I slowly willed myself to walk to her. I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. I couldn't speak, I was frozen. I then broke down, I lost it. I sank to my knees and put my head in her lap and cried and cried. I tried to get the words out, but they were mangled, indecipherable. I tried to apologize. I tried to tell her how sorry I was, what a jerk I was, but I was just uttering gibberish.

After a bit, I felt her fingers in my hair, stroking me. "I heard her speaking softly, 'I know, George, I know. I'm sorry too. What a god awful mess.' I don't know how long we stayed that way. I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay there, my head in her lap, for the rest of my life. My tears had dried but I didn't want to hear her say that she didn't want me anymore. I just hugged her tightly and wouldn't let go."

George paused, looked at me and smiled wryly. "Okay, David, My story is over. You know how it ended. I promised Betty that I would spend the rest of my life making her happy - and I did, I think. From that day forward we never had one serious argument. We had learned to head them off by just talking to one another. It's that simple, David. You just have to learn to talk to one another."

I just sat there for a moment, overcome with emotion. George had narrated a hell of a story and I'm not ashamed to admit that I had tears in my eyes. I sat mute; I really didn't know what to say. His story had stirred hidden wells of feeling in me.

George got up, came over to me and pulled me to my feet. "Go home, David. Think about my little tale. Think about how the ending could have gone. Think about your situation. You're an intelligent man, for god's sake, you're a Ph.D. Use your head." he said as he gently led me out of the door. Before he closed it, he again looked into my eyes and said, "The real question that you have to ask yourself is this: would you be happier with her or without her?"

I numbly walked the few steps to my temporary dwelling. George was right - I wasn't stupid. I knew what he was trying to do, what he was trying to make me consider and the emotional jolt of his tale did just what he expected it to do. It had moved me to a different level in terms of how I viewed recent events. I dropped into a chair, but left the lights off. My thoughts were buzzing in my head, but they weren't chaotic or random this time. I began to have a discussion with myself.

I knew the points that George wanted me to go over - the parallels between his story and the horror visited upon me. Betty had cheated, but it was in reaction to his own philandering - she was driven by desperation, goaded into showing him how devastating infidelity was, despite how misguided her attempt may have been. But, Shelly had cheated when there had been no infidelity on my part. George was guilty, I was not. Wait.........wait, Shelly had cheated because she was convinced that I HAD been unfaithful. In her mind I was doing just what George had done, and she had reacted exactly how Betty had.....well, maybe not exactly. Shelly's reaction was perhaps a bit draconian. Damn, I was getting a headache. Why was I beating myself up - I knew that I had to answer George's last question.

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

I didn't get much sleep that night. I got showered and dressed early the next morning and made the trip home in record time. I entered my apartment and immediately picked up the phone and called Lyle.

"David, it's good to hear from you. Are you enjoying the beach house. I hope it's doing you some good."

"Lyle, I'm home now, and yes the trip was worthwhile, very worthwhile. I've come to some decisions, but I would really like to speak to Shelly's doctor. Is that possible?"

"Of course, David. He's been waiting for you to request a meeting. In fact, he anxious to speak with you. Hold on, I'll get his number for you," he responded. I heard him ask his secretary to find the doctor's telephone number.

"By the way, David. It looks like our friend Mr. Fallow has had some bad news. He has lost his position, of course, and I doubt that he'll find one any time soon. He has also lost his family. His wife is divorcing him and will probably take him for a bundle. He has hired a good attorney to fight the rape charge, and that will probably totally wipe him out financially," Lyle chuckled. "It looks like the rape charge is only one of many problems he now has.'

"Do you think that the rape charge will stick, Lyle?" I inquired. I didn't think I was being too vindictive, but I really wanted the bastard to suffer.

"Who knows, it's certainly not a slam dunk, but a lot of damage has already been done, so even if it doesn't, his life will never be the same. Oh, here's the number. Write it down, David."

I sat back, took a deep breath and called the number that Lyle had given me. "Hello, this is David Lannister. May I speak with Dr. John Biscoe............."

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

Two hours later I was seated in Dr. Biscoe's office. He was a short man with a short, gray beard and a short haircut, but he had a smile that seemed to brighten the entire room.

"David....may I call you David?" I nodded. "Good, please call me John. I am delighted that you're here, I was looking forward to meeting you. I consider your cooperation vital to Shelly's recovery and future health."

He saw the hesitation in my eyes and he smiled and continued. "You may not be aware of it, but I was Shelly's psychiatrist years ago, after she had divorced her first husband. She had serious trust issues and I thought we had pretty well worked them out. It seems that I was a bit too confident," he said softly, his eyes now a bit sad.

"Look, David. I'm not going to sit here and spout a lot of psychobabble at you. I'm afraid that too many of my colleagues are guilty of that. Let's talk about the 'incident' which, I am certain was totally humiliating and devastating for you. I truly believe that at that time, and perhaps even days before that, Shelly was experiencing a distinct disconnect from reality - she was effectively in a psychotic state. No, no, it isn't a permanent condition, but it can be extremely destructive.

"Mr. Fallow, had amazingly chosen the ideal route for his seduction. Without having a clue as to how effective his moves were, he hit upon exactly those things that tore down Shelly's touch with reality. His insidious innuendoes leading finally to his 'certainty' and his 'proof' found a woman ripe to believe his lies. You have to remember that Shelly had very serious issues when it came to trusting a man with her heart. She lost her father due to his cheating which was devastating to a young and impressionable girl, and then with her brand new husband. She divorced him and started to see me. I thought that she was well on her way to a complete recovery. I was, obviously, much too optimistic. Then, even more traumatic if that was possible, she went through the same agony with the man with whom she intended to spend the rest of her life - you."

Dr. Biscoe had lost his smile and his face was grave and troubled. I suddenly felt a cold chill run down my back. My mind wandered a bit, recalling bits of George Malone's story. Dr. Biscoe continued slowly.