There’s Nothing Just About It

Wednesday afternoon.

Unmitigated, undiluted Hell. The past few hours consisted of nothing but pain and disbelief for David Jenkins. An anonymous tip via email had informed David that his cherished wife of six years, Lauren, had been seen walking into a room at a cheap motel on that prior Wednesday afternoon, and that she was now out at lunch again with the same man.

To say David was shocked would be a gross understatement. He and Lauren were deeply in love, had sex three to five times a week, and their lovemaking usually was intense and heartfelt. Not yet thirty, he thought their lovemaking was still energetic and satisfying for each of them. Still, he could not ignore the email or its implications. So, feeling as tense and wound-up as he'd ever been in his life, he drove home that afternoon already a changed man.

Arriving home around 6pm, as per usual, he saw Lauren's car already in the driveway. Still in her work clothes, she was standing at the sink, rinsing some vegetables, when he walked into the kitchen and offered a half-hearted greeting and set down his briefcase.

"Hi honey, how was your day?" Lauren asked, patting her hands dry with a towel before turning to kiss him. David was struck by how nonchalant Lauren was after spending the afternoon with another man.

"Fine. But, some bad news this afternoon related to the project we're working on, and it seems I'll have to go up to Greensboro on Friday, so I won't be home until around 8pm, depending on how the meetings go, and then the traffic home."

David knew Lauren's work schedule fairly well, and he knew that she had the most flexibility on Wednesday and Friday afternoons, so his first thought on how to verify that email's accusations was to make it even easier for Lauren on this coming Friday. The project crisis, meeting and business trip were all lies, and instead he had arranged to take off Friday and do some pre-work, and also to watch the motel for Lauren and her lover.

"Well, at least you don't have to stay overnight, and we still get the whole weekend together," Lauren offered. "Since you can't really predict when you'll get home, could you call me when you leave Greensboro? I'll try to time dinner as best I can."

David thought about her comment a bit. Yesterday, he would have thought nothing of it, or, he may even have thought how considerate Lauren was for trying to make dinner together possible despite his unplanned business travel. Now, he wondered if she was asking him to provide her a two-hour alarm to close her legs and clean up the traces of her lover from her traitorous, slutty cunt.

"Sure, I'll call you when I have a better idea of when I can leave Greensboro, and I'll call from the road as well, when I have a better feel for the traffic and a realistic time I should be home. Sound good?"

Since the point of Friday was now to make it easier for Lauren to cheat again if that was really her at the motel, and if that email was accurate, David wanted to make Lauren feel comfortable that he would be out-of-pocket, and easily pinned down.

"David, I'm going to get dinner started, and then take a quick shower. Would you mind keeping an eye on this skillet while I'm gone? Make sure the veggies don't scorch?" Lauren asked, as she picked up her purse and took it upstairs.

"Sure, honey, no worries," David responded, meanwhile, thinking to himself: Odd, I thought she usually left her purse downstairs. The shower itself had him wondering as well. While not rare, she usually did not take a shower immediately upon getting home, so while he perused the mail and stirred the vegetables, he wondered nervously about whether the occasional shower was related to the news in the email he received earlier. Fuck my life, David thought, one anonymous email and I'm questioning everything in my marriage that until today I thought was absolutely great.

Dinner happened, but David was clearly preoccupied. "Anything else wrong, honey? Other than the project you mentioned? You seem awfully quiet and almost on a different planet," Lauren finally asked, after getting little response to a couple questions she'd posed.

"No, sorry. I'm just beat, I guess, and also already thinking about what I have to get done tomorrow to be ready to go to Greensboro on Friday," David replied. He was aware that he needed to be acting "normal" so as not to make Lauren think anything else was out of the ordinary.

David found that almost amusing: What's normal anymore? My wife may be cheating on me, or I could be getting punked by someone with a shitty sense of humor, or I could be the unintended casualty of a mis-addressed email. What if it was a totally different woman, and the sender mistakenly thought she was my wife? Fuck my life! Yesterday I was certain in my happiness, and today I'm a fucking wreck of doubts.

Dinner was cleared, and while watching a bit of TV, David and Lauren talked about some weekend plans for Saturday and Sunday, and they eventually started getting ready for bed. David had already said he was hitting bed early since he needed to get to work and prepare for his trip. David's stomach was in knots about what he would do if Lauren made any moves about initiating sex tonight. He'd been thinking about Wednesday nights and whether there had been any pattern in their sex recently, and he was horrified to realize that it was approximately 50:50 from his recollection. Tying that together with her after-work showers, he felt blindfolded, trying to pin the tail on the duplicitous donkey.

Lauren got into bed first, and when David joined her, she quickly snuggled up behind him, spooning him tightly, and reaching over to scratch his chest with her fingernails. "Can I take your mind off work for 30 minutes, lover?" Lauren playfully suggested.

Crap, David thought, How much more can I take before I lose my cool? He patiently stuck with Plan A, and said "As much as I would like that, honey, I'm not going to be much good to you tonight or tomorrow. I'm just too distracted with this project looming on the horizon." As he said it, he again could not believe how much his life had changed over the 60-seconds it took to read and understand that simple email he received hardly ten hours ago.

"That's OK, honey, I understand. I just thought if you were up for it, I'd offer you some well-deserved stress relief."

Lauren gave David a deep hug and kissed the back of his neck, before saying goodnight, and rolling over.

David was relieved that defusing her approach went as well as it did. Wait a sec. What did she mean "if you were up to it?" Was that a dig? Fuck my life!

David was up and away to work before Lauren woke up, so he dodged any further questions or penetrating stares. He realized how poorly he was able to handle the perceived scrutiny, whether real or imagined. Last night reminded him of Poe's The Tell-Tale Heart, and realizing that, he knew he had to avoid another night of close contact with Lauren. "Hi sweetie, I'm going to be working late tonight prepping for tomorrow's trip and meetings, so don't worry about dinner for me, and I'll see you probably around bedtime," David left in her voicemail around mid-afternoon.

Thursday was spent not prepping for business meetings though. David was a planner and organizer by nature and by trade, so even though he had no hard facts of her infidelity, he wanted to know what he didn't know. He called around until he found an attorney that would meet with him the next day, and he looked up voice-activated recording devices online. After deciding what he wanted to buy, he searched for any local brick-and-mortar stores in town for similar devices, and he found a shop he could visit tonight before going home. David muddled through enough of his actual work to avoid anyone asking him what was going on, but his heart and mind were clearly elsewhere.

David left work a bit late, and then stopped by the store with the eavesdropping gear, and he bought a simple voice-activated pen that he thought he could stash in Lauren's purse, which was usually within earshot of Lauren at her office, and in her car. He also brought "work" home, so he could pretend to prepare for his trip the next day until Lauren had gone to bed.

"Hi honey! I'm so glad you're home, finally," Lauren said as she came to the door when David arrived around 9pm. "How's it looking for the project and your trip?"

"Better, I think," David offered up. "Since we learned of these new issues, we've put more resources on it, so I'm hopeful everything will get resolved Friday, for better or for worse." That's playing with fire, David mused. For better or for worse....... I wonder if she feels that way anymore.

Thursday night was a snuggle-only repeat of the night before, to David's relief. To her credit, Lauren seemed unfazed in any way, acting no differently towards him as far as David could tell. Relatively speaking, however, he was such an utter wreck that it likely wasn't hard for Lauren to appear "normal" compared to David.

Up with the dawn again Friday, David tested the pen and planted it in Lauren's purse, and he left the house. He killed some time at a coffee house, and then took his 10am meeting with the attorney. David viewed this meeting as a freebie solely to gain information, but he ended up liking the lawyer a lot. They discussed David's email, and his thus-far unconfirmed fears, and that today was a potential lover's tryst that David was going to check into himself. He admitted he had nothing more than that damned email, so going "all-in" on a private investigator or thousands of dollars of electronic surveillance gear made little sense. From the lawyer, David learned the grim and formulaic reality of divorce, if it came to that. With no kids, no-fault divorce was relatively cut-and-dried, especially since David and Lauren made comparable wages and had similar retirement plan balances. The house was still mostly debt, so liquidating it would be more emotional turmoil than financial strain. David left the law office befuddled though; How can I even be looking into this nightmare and thinking it won't be so bad? We were supposed to be forever until death do us part.

David spent lunchtime at a Starbucks, cruising the web, and further educating himself on the cottage industry that is divorce. Websites abound on how to detect a cheating spouse, and also how to avoid detection when cheating, how to hide income, and also how to find it. Most enlightening were the sites devoted to why spouses cheat. Nothing David read struck a chord on Lauren's motivation. That fact alone was probably why David felt, deep down, in his heart of hearts, that this was all a mistake. Lauren could not be cheating on him. They were too close, too much in love, too in sync with each other for it to be true.

When he couldn't take any more on the subject of cheating, he packed up and left, heading for the motel. Time had been dragging, or so it seemed to David, but now that the moment had arrived, he wondered where all his time had gone.

As he drove on to the motel mentioned in that damned email, he realized that if this whole affair thing were indeed true, then it's possible that Lauren did not always use the same motel. If that were true, then today could all be for naught, and he'd still know nothing for certain. The pen he'd planted in her purse may eventually bear some fruit, but David knew he could not take much more of this uncertainty about the condition and future of his marriage.

Entering the motel's parking lot at 1:40pm, he drove around until he found a distant parking spot that offered visual coverage of the most rooms, and the office. Now, he must wait.

There wasn't much in-and-out people traffic at the motel, so when a man parked a late-model Acura, visited the office and then entered a first-floor room, he caught David's eye, and looked vaguely familiar. No name came to mind but David felt he'd seen the man before. All David's doubts ceased to exist, as well as his hopes, about five minutes later when Lauren's Honda Accord parked next to the Acura and she hopped out with purse in hand, and walked up to the same room's door, knocking quickly. Seconds later, the man opened the door, and Lauren stepped inside with a practiced ease and confidence.

Fuck my life! It's all true, David thought as he pounded the steering wheel with his fists. How could Lauren do this to us? And why? There just wasn't any rhyme or reason to it. David had never felt so blind-sided in his life. The planner and organizer had just gotten the rug pulled out from under him. David's thoughts rocketed left, right, up, and down like that new Fury roller-coaster at Carowinds, and he suddenly realized he now shared a crumbling stake in a marriage in total and abject crisis.

Knowing that today was at least the second instance of Lauren's cheating, and that she was skirting work to do it made David feel as though there wasn't much more to gain by hanging around the motel. He wasn't about to confront them by banging on the door. That may get ugly, and he needed time and space to calm down, and prepare for whatever his next moves might be. His disbelief up to this moment had left him woefully unprepared emotionally for those next steps. Then he remembered the pen he had placed in her purse, and he grimaced bitterly. Live-action audio, he thought, painfully, That's just great. He did have the presence of mind to take a few photos of the two cars parked side-by-side in front of their love nest, and he took a close-up of the man's car that included the license tag, before slowly rolling on to the exit, and back onto the road. He didn't have a destination in mind, but just drove aimlessly for a while, until he nearly ran a red light and almost got hit. That near-miss shook him up, so he stopped at a brewery taproom and had a beer while trying to collect his thoughts.

He initially thought he had just gone from idle suspicion to fully-informed, but he realized how little he knew at this point. And he still had no idea who this guy was, how long it had been going on, and more important, WHY? As far as he knew, for seven-plus years he and Lauren had been exclusive, engaged, and then married. He had enough evidence to confront, but not nearly enough to know whether whatever Lauren said in response would be true. As much as it would hurt him to listen to the recording from this afternoon's tryst, he knew he had to wait to get that pen from her purse before he said anything to Lauren about what he already knew.

He also knew he couldn't be anywhere near an amorous Lauren if she was in the mood for more sex with him later, after his supposed business trip. He'd been pushing her away this week, blaming the trip, so his ready excuse would be gone, and further opt-outs of sex with Lauren would likely raise her awareness that something else may be wrong. So, what to do? I need that pen, then I need to quickly confirm there's something on it, and then I could leave the house and stay out a few days to figure out where I am in all this crap, David sketched out in his mind.

With that general frame of a plan, a devious thought occurred to David: She thinks I'll be out later than usual tonight, so I could shake up her and her lover by calling with news that I'm almost home. Finishing his beer and paying his tab, he got his car back onto the road and dialed Lauren's cell phone. He got her voicemail. "Hi honey, great news! The prep work paid off big time, and everyone did a great job getting things back on track, so I am about 30 minutes out from Charlotte, and traffic is not too bad. I should be home around the usual time." David said cheerfully.

"I hope that scares her shitless, the fucking tramp," David said out loud to himself. He continued on to the house, and upon arrival he quickly packed a couple bags and put them in his car's trunk. Then he sat down and wrote a note to Lauren. Depending on how the night went, he wanted to have the option of just skipping out without too much of a confrontation. He didn't know what was on the recording, so until he did, he didn't want a full-blown face-off. Part of his reasoning there was also wanting to blind-side her equally as much as she had done to him.

When David had called Lauren, she and her lover, Rob, were in the final throes of their second coupling that day. Today was their last day together, and with the extra runway that David's trip had provided them, they had indulged in a second round for the very first time. They viewed it also as a celebration or victory dance, but now, it seemed like a potentially careless move.

As she listened to the voicemail message, she muttered "Crap! I need to get moving, Rob. That was David saying he's already headed back and will be home around 6pm, like usual."

"Well, at least you got your early-warning phone call he promised you," Rob joked in reply, as Lauren hugged him and said goodbye, and then scooted quickly to the bathroom to take a shower.

Routine and habits took over then, and Rob dressed, and left the room while Lauren showered. He was headed to the gym for his standard post-coitus workout and shower at the YMCA near his home.

On her drive home, Lauren fretted more about David's early homecoming, and his good cheer about the project turning around for the better. I thought he'd be home late, and likely burned out from the meetings and trip, but he's probably going to want to make love tonight after taking a pass most of the week, she thought as she turned into their neighborhood. Still a little nervous as she rounded the corner and approached her house, she saw David's car already in the driveway.

"Holy crap, he made good time for Friday traffic," she muttered out loud, as she parked her Accord next to his new Civic. Thinking that he may want to jump her bones as soon as she walked in, and that more time elapsed since her illicit afternoon sex might be beneficial, she thought that perhaps a pre-emptive offer for a nice celebratory dinner out might be a good idea.

David was on pins and needles, hearing Lauren's car in the drive. This would be the first time he would see her since knowing for certain she was a cheating slut. Bags packed and in the car, note prepared, all he needed was the recorder pen. He sat in the living room, so he could catch Lauren as soon as she arrived.

"Hi, sweetheart!" Lauren exclaimed when she entered and saw David getting up from his chair. "Sounds like things went well. Why don't we go out to eat and celebrate?" she asked him as they closed ranks and gave each other a hug and a kiss.

"That sounds great since I got home early. Why don't you go upstairs and change, and I'll make a reservation somewhere?" David offered.

Lauren readily agreed and dropped her work bag and purse on the table, and then moved up the stairs toward the master bedroom. David waited until he heard the shower start, and then went to her purse and retrieved the pen. He pressed rewind and then play, and heard the beginning of the lovers' conversation and quickly clicked the pen off.

"Well, that clinches it. Time to get out of here," and David retrieved his note to Lauren and left it on the table near her bags. Pausing at the door, David looked back at their home, sadly realizing that nothing between she and him would ever be the same.

Lauren rushed her shower, focusing on cleaning her pussy again, and quickly dressed, coming downstairs with a still-wet pony tail. She figured he may be hungry after his trip, and also probably eager to later have sex, so she guessed that casual dinner plans would likely rule the night.

Not seeing him in the living room, she walked toward the kitchen, and saw the note lying on the table. Picking it up, and starting to read it, she gasped, "No, God, no. This can't be happening."