Tina's Confession

It wasn't true. I did care about him, or so I'd convinced myself. I just never believed that he'd ever find out. I was so stupid!

Pete told mum to take me to the bedroom, then we were nearly finished. Mum and dad both had to help me, my legs barely supported me. Then I saw our bed, the bed where we'd made love only a couple of nights before. It took me a moment before I realised, and then my world fell apart. Everything that meant anything to my husband and me was on there. Not ripped or damaged in any way. That would have been an act of anger. No. It was just that everything that was special to us as a couple was left, abandoned, the way I had abandoned him for a meaningless fuck with a stranger. I tried to speak, to explain, but I couldn't. I was crying, howling, babbling, barely able to breathe, and what sounds I could make were incoherent.

We didn't understand why everything was covered in shredded paper though, but that was the last of my worries until I heard dad ask Pete about it. "Tell her to look in the box." Pete said.

It was every card we'd ever exchanged. I'd kept them in my memory box. Christmas, Birthdays, Valentine's Day, Anniversary cards; every card we'd ever given each other with, "I Love You," written on it, he'd shredded because I obviously never did love him and he didn't, couldn't, love me any more. That's when I broke. I heard dad talking to Pete for a few moments longer but none of the words made sense any more. I don't remember anything after that.

I woke up about midnight. Mum must have cleared the bed to make space for me and they were packing up my clothes, talking softly together. I took a deep shuddering breath as I came to and they crossed quickly to hold me. "Hush baby," mum said. "It's over now. You're coming home with us. We'll talk tomorrow." At least they were there for me. He'd loved me enough to give me that.

We did talk next day, when I was awake. But they gave me Friday to pull myself together. The conversations that began on Saturday though, were anything but comfortable. They made their feelings very clear. I didn't like it, but they weren't wrong. The list of things that I had fucked up was horrendously long, and they weren't shy in pointing every single item out.

Effectively, I was single, homeless, an emotional wreck, an adulteress and a slut. My big sister rang to tell me she had just seen Pete's FB update and she generously shared her opinions of me too. After she'd finished berating me, she told me that she had messaged Pete to ask him, politely, if he would consider taking down my slut profile. Yes, those were the words my big sister used to describe me. He'd always liked Sue, so he did it that day.

It was Saturday afternoon before dad showed me the divorce application. When I stopped bawling that I didn't want a divorce, I wanted Pete, mum stepped up. After she'd finished expressing her anger at me using her late mum's name for my whoring, she made it clear that I'd made my choices on my back and on my knees. Pete would never look at me again without wondering who I'd fuck next, so I should just get over myself. That was three *Fucks* and two sexual references in two minutes. I had really pissed her off.

My parents insisted that I go back to work on Monday; they had rung on my behalf on Friday to say that I was unwell. I drove past Pete's offices, two miles out of my way, every day for three weeks to try to see him, to say how sorry I was, to ask his forgiveness, to beg him to take me back. I don't know how dad found out, but he was incandescent with anger. "Leave the poor bastard alone!" He raged at me. "Haven't you fucking done enough to him already? If he can ever face seeing you again, which I doubt, it has to be on his terms. You lost that right the moment you spread your legs for some random cock!"

Dad had never, ever spoken to me, well anyone, like that before. The reality, the finality, of the consequences of my decisions became clear to me. My marriage was over: how could it not be? Three weeks later I managed to meet a therapist for counselling.

It was December and I was Christmas shopping for presents for mum, dad and Sue when I saw a young man looking at me. He was holding hands with an attractive young woman, but they were muffled up with scarves and I didn't recognise either of them. He spoke to the girl and she nodded and walked to one of the nearby pop-up kiosks. He walked across to me and, realising why I didn't recognise him, he unwrapped his scarf.

"Alex!" I gasped.

"No. It's Lee, actually," he smiled, a little sadly. "But you're not Annie either, are you?"

"When did you know?" I asked quietly.

"When Pete swiped up from your first message to Alex and onto your profile." He grimaced. "He'd been fair with me at work and, in return, I agreed to put myself on that obscenity of a website. I watched his world fall apart when he saw who you really were." He shook his head.

"Does he still talk about me?" I asked, hopefully.

"No, or at least not to me, but we're not really that close. He's still my boss, and he doesn't seem to hate me for what you and I did, but we're not friends."

Just then the young woman joined us with three mugs of hot chocolate. She held one out to me.

"This is Vicky, my girlfriend," Lee introduced us. "Tina, Vic knows who you are so you can speak freely."

I was shocked. "You told her? Everything?"

He put his arms around her shoulder. "You taught me a lot. Some of it good, some a lesson in what not to do. Vicky has benefitted from the good bits." The girl giggled and flushed in embarrassment and nudged him. She was gorgeous; he was a stud. I hoped they made it. At least they understood where deceit took you. I had that to console me.

We found a bench nearby and sat for ten minutes and chatted. Lee had seen a pretty blonde waiting for Pete a couple of times as they left work. He had no idea if they were serious. I hoped she was better, more loyal than me.

Vicky sat in stunned silence as I explained how my spiral of deceit began. "But you had so many chances to stop," she whispered. "Why did you risk everything for meaningless sex?"

I thought for a while, "The trite answer is that I wanted to see what it felt like and I didn't believe I'd get caught." I paused to watch their reactions. "I would sacrifice a limb to undo the stupid things I did. I've lost everything that was important to me for a handful of meaningless fucks."

We finished our drinks and said goodbye. They left and I went back to my shopping.

So for those of you who need closure, here's the final summary:

Pete is seeing someone. I hope she's nice.

Lee is a confident young man with a lovely girlfriend.

Vicky has a sweet, experienced lover.

My big sister thinks I'm a stupid little slut.

My dad is trying to come to terms with his little girl acting like a whore.

My mum's still hurt at how I disrespected her mother's memory.

And me? I'm trying to rebuild my relationship with my family. I've learnt that the cheat's response to the question, "Why did you do it?" Is usually "Because I could." But you can't, not indefinitely. Karma's a bitch. Just like me.

So I'm officially divorced and trying to get on with my new life. There's a new guy at work. One of the girls says she thinks he's going to ask me out. If it's because he thinks I'm easy, I won't go. If it's just that he wants to get to know me, you know, better, then I'll go. And, if he asks me out on a second date, I'll tell him the truth; I was selfish and stupid and I want to be better than I was, because I don't want to be, can't be, responsible for causing that much hurt to so many people ever again. I won't lead him on without telling him who, what, I was. I just hope that one day I can convince someone that I know better now.

What about Annie? All of our household waste collected by the council goes to an energy from waste plant on an industrial site out of town. I put everything that I wore when I was unfaithful, shoes, clothes, underwear, everything, in the bin. I threw my phone, the one I used to betray my husband, on top. Even the sim card went. I have a new number now.

I'd got approval from work to go in late on Wednesday, so I waited and then watched as the collection vehicle made its way down our street that morning. I watched as it emptied our bin, with Annie in it, into the gaping maw at the rear. Fuck you, Annie! Good riddance," I thought. Then I stood as it continued out of sight on its journey that would end at the incinerator. I fucking burned the bitch.

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Postscript

I was happy with the way that I ended the first instalment of Pete and Tina's story. I still stand by that decision, though a lot, not all, of the comments suggested that it was too abrupt. Maybe that's the difference between UK and some US readers: There seems to be an expectation of a nice neat epilogue in the US, where all the loose ends are tied up. So this was my compromise. There really isn't another story left to tell, so we'll have to hope that they all heal in time and learn from Tina's stupidity. Even, or especially, Tina.