The Way You Look Tonight Ch. 03

"Guys," as in multiple men? It all started to become clearer. I sat on the edge of the bed feeling physically and emotionally beaten. My head was pounding. I showered and went home, withdrawing into my bedroom, curled up and frightened, not knowing what to do.

Another panic gave me a jolt. I had forgotten to check my cell phone. Nicky always called me several times while on the road. There were a few missed calls and texts from him indicating that he was worried that I hadn't called him back. I immediately called him and told him that I had to pull an all-nighter at work to finish a big project. This was not at all unusual, though it didn't happen often. I apologized for shutting off my phone. Nicky accepted this easily, since he never had any reason to doubt me. Remaining in bed all weekend, and barely eating anything, I wasn't in very good shape Monday morning. But I made it to work, and immersed myself in a project. At least I had the satisfaction that this was behind me.

Nicky returned Monday evening, and when I got home he had just finished preparing a nice dinner for us. It felt so good to be home, safe in his arms. Nicky wanted to make love. He led me to the couch after dinner, and started kissing my neck and running his hand through my hair. I so desperately wanted to be with Nicky that night. But knowing that multiple guys probably had their way with me Friday, I was really afraid I would give Nicky an STD. On top of that, I was still sore from the pounding I must have taken. For the first time in our married life, I pulled away from him. He sensed something was wrong, but I was able to convince him that I still had the remnants of the bug I was fighting when he left on Friday.

On Wednesday, the next shock wave hit. Another special delivery envelope arrived at work. A sick feeling ran through my stomach. The pictures this time were not of me at nineteen. These were pictures of what must have taken place Friday night after I passed out. The horror of what I saw caused another panic attack. There were many men, all fucking me in different positions. Multiple guys at the same time.

The note inside the envelope made it clear to me that my problem had not vanished, not by a long shot. "Now I own you slut. You're taking Friday off and you'll be at the same hotel, same room at 10 in the morning. This time it will be just you and me."

I was beaten and I knew it. That Friday, Guy fucked me for what seemed like the entire day. He had some cocaine and I did a few lines so that I could get through the ordeal. Over the next several weeks, Guy demanded more and more. We met once a week in the afternoons. And there was plenty of cocaine. The more lines I snorted, the more numb I became to the sex. My work started to suffer, and I began to take more and more sick days.

You might be wondering how I was coping at home with this problem. I essentially withdrew from Nicky. Becoming irritable and moody, I made it clear through body language and the fact that I slept in the guest room, that I really wasn't interested in doing anything with him. At first, this was merely a front. I was totally and utterly disgusted with myself, and embarrassed. I feared that if I tried to act normally with Nicky, I would let something slip. I tried to convince myself that eventually Guy's blackmailing would run its course an stop. And Nicky would chalk this up to nothing more than a mid-life crisis.

But as time went by, the drugs and the sex changed me. Slowly I felt my demons rising up and taking over. When that happened, I was genuinely mean to Nicky, staying out late, and refusing to sleep with him, or even eat with him, for that matter. If you've read the previous chapters, you would know how Nicky would react. He tried to confront me a couple of times, but when I got stern with him, he backed off and left me alone. I knew this would happen, which is why I took the evasive approach.

About three weeks into this, Guy brought another man to the hotel with him, a big black guy who was really a gentleman. Guy left me alone with him. I learned later that Guy was pimping me out. Something strange happened when I first met this new man. After the booze and the coke, I found myself oddly attracted to him. I was sinking back into my sex addiction. I knew it. And I was torn like a schizophrenic between trying to stop it and giving in to it.

This new guy's cock was enormous. He was very gentle with me and treated me like his girl. Even though the sex had been going on for weeks, this was the first time I really cheated on Nicky. I began to get caught up in it. Losing all thoughts of Nicky as I was high and this guy was pounding me with that enormous black dong, my body weakened and I had a massive orgasm. And afterward, I didn't even feel guilty about it. This same scene was repeated with many men over the next few weeks.

I was missing work, and drifted even further apart from Nicky. It didn't take long for me to run out of sick days. I started missing work without calling in. Finally, after several warnings, they canned me. I never told Nicky.

Nicky knew that something was way off and begged me to see a doctor. Of course, I lied, something else I never did with him, and told him that I did see the doctor who told me that I was likely beginning my changes. Nicky never pushed it, until one night when it all came to a head.

By this time, there was no way that Nicky didn't know I had something going on. My physical appearance and my mental state had to have given it away. There were many late nights and hangovers the next morning. But Nicky just went on, hoping that I would snap out of it.

On the night that it all came crashing down, I was in the lounge of the Garden of Eden hotel, waiting for Guy to bring me my next "date." I was pretty tight that night, high on the cocaine that Guy supplied, coupled with the shots I was doing.

"Candice. What the fuck?"

I turned from the bar and saw that it was Nicky. I told him, "You need to leave. This is something I have to do. Leave now before you get hurt."

"No fucking way. What the fuck is going on? I knew you were going through something, but this is so fucked up. Right now, I wish I'd never met you. Look at you. You've turned into a whore."

By this time, Guy had arrived. He came up behind Nicky and put his hand on his shoulder.

"So, if it isn't the wimp, Saint Nicholas. Came looking for your wife the whore, have you?"

Nicky didn't turn around at first. He just stared at me with a pained and forlorn look on his face and said, "Candice...Really? This guy? This is the guy you've been fucking around with? Jesus Christ in his royal robes. I can't fucking believe it."

He turned to face Guy, who very quickly tried to throw a sucker punch. Nicky deftly bobbed left, missing Guy's blow. Then Nicky hit him with a crushing right to his stomach. When Guy doubled over, Nicky sent him flying with an uppercut to his jaw. He went flying ass over end about ten feet in the air, crashing down on to one of the tables.

As soon as Guy went down, someone came up behind Nicky and was about to jump him. From out of no where came Nicky's cousin Tony Rome. He picked up a chair and smashed it across the interloper's head, knocking him unconscious.

"You better get the hell out of here," Tony told Nicky with an urgency in his voice.

"I'm going. Do me a favor, take Candice to the hospital. Look at her. She's a fucking mess. Be sure they dry her out and that she gets tested for anything and everything. And when they release her, tell her not to come looking for me. We're through."

"Okay, but now you do me a favor. Don't do anything crazy. I'll call you after I get her checked in."

_______

Nicholas

I had seen the changes coming over Candice in the last six weeks. But never in my wildest nightmare would I have ever believed it was this bad. About two weeks before the incident at the hotel bar, I asked Tony to initiate surveillance on Candice. I knew that something was horribly wrong. Several days after that, I had my answer. He told me what he found, and that he had photos. But he strongly recommended that I not look at them, and I took his advice. I had all of the information I needed. Based on what Tony told me, my marriage was over. As deeply as I loved Candice, there was no way I could ever live with her again, not after this betrayal.

I was dazed and confused. It was like someone flipped a switch, and in a short time, Candice's whole life had changed. She became a different person right before my eyes. I didn't know her anymore. We hadn't made love in nearly two months. She treated me like crap, and was hardly ever home. Whenever I confronted her, there was always an excuse. She told me she was going through some stuff, and she needed space to work things out.

With my heart broken, and as difficult as it was going to be, I decided that I needed to get away. That was one of my weaknesses. I would often rather leave than confront a problem, as long as I knew there was no way I could overcome that problem.

Over the years, the New Amsterdam Federals had offered me minor league coaching jobs. After I got Tony's report, about two weeks before the bar incident, I set my plans in motion. My contract at the college was up in October. So, leaving for a new life in a new town was easy. I contacted Beatrice Ocean, owner of the Federals, and arranged for two jobs. The first one would start immediately. I would work for her as a coach and scout in a winter instructional league in the Dominican Republic. Then in the early spring I would head to Florida for spring training with their AAA club, the San Antonio Tonitos, remaining with them as manager. I had enough money stashed away to make a new start. But before I committed to anything, I had to give my marriage one more shot. That's when I decided I would confront Candice one more time in the bar.

Tony had Candice under constant surveillance by this time. So, he knew she would be at the bar that night. Sure enough, as I suspected, Candice was a sorry mess that night. Tony told me that Candice lost her job and was basically working as a hooker for Guy Gisborne, the slime ball from her office. There was no way I could believe that unless I confirmed it with my own eyes. I remembered Guy hitting on Candice at the company Christmas party the year before. I nearly decked him that night when I thought he was making a move on her, but then he seemed to back off.

Anyway, you already know how the scene at the bar played out. After that happened, I knew what I had to do. I finalized my plans to leave town and go to work for the Federals, hoping to leave no trace behind for Candice to find me once she dried out and realized what she'd done.

That night after the bar scene, I packed up my clothes, made my final arrangements, and booked an early morning flight to the Dominican Republic. I left Candice a letter:

Dear Candice,

I wonder if you'll ever know how difficult it is for me to write you this letter. You had to know that at some point I would react to your changed behavior by running away from it. After having confronted you at the bar, I knew our marriage was over, and that there was no going back. And I can't handle the pain of questioning you again. Nearly twenty-four years of what I thought was a perfect marriage down the crapper. So, it's time for me to leave.

I don't want to deal with reprisals, recriminations, divorce, splitting property, and all of the other nasty things that have to happen now. So, I've arranged with our attorney, Miguel Santos, to make this easy for you. The divorce papers are all drawn up. He has my power-of-attorney. All you need to do is sign them. I've decided to give you everything. I need to walk away from everything we've created together. I don't want anything that will remind me of our life and what we've built together. So, take it all. I don't want any of it. The house, the cars, the bank accounts.

I'm not sure how I will deal with the kids. I'm not sure if I can see or speak to them anytime soon. I'll leave you to tell them what happened. If I were you, just tell them that we drifted apart. Please spare them the sordid details of your new life.

I knew from the day we met that I wasn't in your league. I've lived with that insecurity throughout our marriage, wondering when someone would wake me up and the dream life that I had with you would end.

If there is any part of you left that still cares about me, don't worry. I have enough money to live on, and I've taken a really good job in a town far away from here. Please don't try to find me.

I'm sorry what I said to you in the bar that night. In fact, even knowing how this would turn out in the end, if I had to do it over again, I wouldn't change a thing. I've loved you beyond words from the moment I met you, and I wouldn't trade the last twenty-three years for anything. I will always love the person that you were. I will cherish the memories. And when I'm down, I'll think of the good times. I'll remember the first few lines from our wedding song:

Someday, when I'm awfully low

When the world is cold,

I will feel a glow just thinking of you

And the way you look tonight.

I hope that you find whatever it is that you went looking for, and that you straighten out your life.

Love always,

Nicholas.

I put the letter into an envelope, along with my wedding band and the crucifix and gold chain that Candice gave me on our engagement. After I left the letter and my old cell phone on the kitchen table, I picked up my last bag and headed out to the waiting limo the club had sent to take me to JFK airport. I locked up the house with the spare key in the planter, and left.

When I got into the limo, the driver had Sinatra music playing. Figures. The words from "A Summer Wind" pummeled me like an anvil into my chest. My shoulders heaved, and I sobbed until well after the song ended.

Like painted kites, those days and nights they went flyin' by.

The world was new beneath a blue umbrella sky.

Then softer than a piper man, one day it called to you.

I lost you, I lost you to the summer wind.

The autumn wind, and the winter winds they have come and gone.

And still the days, those lonely days, they go on and on.

And guess who sighs his lullabies through nights that never end.

My fickle friend, the summer wind

The summer wind

Warm summer wind

The summer wind.

To be continued.