Without Trust You Have Nothing

No new ground covered below. A reader asked for a short story about a certain situation which she admits to doing as a freshman. I needed a twist for a long shelved story, so I stitched them together.

Please read my profile for my stance on comments. Feel free to email suggestions or to start a conversation. Private messages work too.

Barry Gibb: "Where is the girl, I loved all along? The girl that I loved, she is gone, she is gone."

+ + + +

My name is Noah Stevens. Professor, if it matters to you. Doctor of Philosophy for those that think that's sexy. I teach American History at a small College. I've written a few books about the Great Depression and the Dust Bowl. My colleagues accuse me of having very little gray areas in my beliefs. It's either this or that. Choose one. I think that adequately describes me.

Recently my personal life fell apart. Now I'm faced with a dilemma. If you are right, and no one agrees with you, are you really right? The more they assault my beliefs, the less confident I am of my position. Has my moral compass been compromised? If so, I'm too stubborn to accept it. My detractors are going to have to live with it.

"Give it a break Dad. She screwed up. You know it, I know it, Mark knows it, and Mom most definitely knows it. So what? It's done and over. It was over a long time ago. You've been fine all along but all of a sudden this is the end of our family. I don't understand you."

My daughter, Holly, was attempting to convince me that ending my marriage with Sandra, my wife of twenty years, was a mistake, ON MY PART!

"Holly, it is quite obvious that you don't understand. Without trust you have nothing. Not only did your mother make a mockery of our wedding vows, she continues to lie about it. The only reason that 'I was fine all along', as you said, is that I wasn't aware of it. I have no desire to live the rest of my life with someone I can't trust. Deal with it."

Holly started to get all defensive so I put up my hand and zipped my mouth shut. At least she took the hint. I retired to my office, or I should say my office slash bedroom.

Around the time my son, Mark, got home from basketball practice, I heard a loud tap on the door. Without opening "Who goes there?"

"Dad, open up."

As I opened, I made sure his traitorous mother was not hanging around. After giving him our typical man hug greeting he plopped down in MY chair. The things we let our kids do. I sat on the corner of the desk.

"What's on your mind Mark?"

"Why are you breaking up our family?"

"Because I can't trust your mother. I won't spend one more minute of my life with her. I'm cutting all ties to her and looking for a suitable replacement."

"What about us?"

"You are both old enough to choose which parent you want to live with. I'll let the courts decide who gets what and the custody issue. I doubt the other party will be denied reasonable visitation."

"I don't understand. This happened five years ago. You guys couldn't have been happier until two weeks ago."

"As I tried to tell your sister, without trust you have nothing. Your mother made a mockery of our wedding vows, then lied about it. The problem with lies, is that there is only one truth. If you tell anything other than the truth, then, when asked again another time, you might tell a different lie. Your mother couldn't keep her lies straight and, with a little help from my father, we pieced together what happened. Besides, we might not know the full extent of her betrayal. Forgiving what we know doesn't remove the doubt."

"So what. She screwed up. That's no reason to throw away your family."

"Mark, SHE threw away our family. Her selfish sexual exploits, outside of marriage, doomed our family. Sooner or later I might be able to find an example that you can relate to. Until then, all I can tell you is that my love for you and Holly is unwavering, and I'm no longer in love with your mother."

Much like I'd done with his sister, I put my hand up, zipped my mouth shut, and escorted him out. I saw Sandra lurking. As Mark left she took a few steps towards the door. I made a point of slamming it shut.

A few minutes later a sheet of paper slide under the door.

'Noah, how can we get past this if you won't talk to me? I love you. Sandra'

I wrote her back 'We are NOT getting past this. Without trust you have nothing. You've been served and I fully intend on following through with the divorce.'

I slid it back under the door. There, we talked.

+ + + +

To understand how I got here, let me take you back in time.

Sandra works at her family's business, Morgan Hardware. Morgan is Sandra's maiden name. It's an independent home improvement store. Our little city just isn't large enough for the big box stores, like Lowes or Home Depot, so they've found a niche. I seriously doubt that they could compete if a big box store moved in. For the time being, life is good for them.

Her downfall was the short affair she had with a salesman from a power tool distributor. I think I know the reason behind the affair ending five years ago. It's the only affair I'm aware of. That's the catch on affairs. Was that one of one, or one of one hundred? As far as I was concerned, one was fatal. Like Russian roulette, once the chamber with the bullet is used, game over.

I think the reason for the end of the affair, was exposed by the trail of deception I uncovered. Her sister, Emily, drove her over to the county seat. For the first day trip, I was told it was about getting a building permit. Two days later, the same pair retraced their steps. I was told they had to rectify some deficiencies in their application.

Regardless, their story at the time seemed reasonable to me. With my background, I don't have any reason to know anything about building permits.

At the family BBQ around the fourth, I asked her dad about their construction plans. He denied any such activity.

On our way home I posed the question "Your dad says he didn't need any building permits. I thought you and Emily filed some?"

"We did, but not for the business. They were for her brother in law Ralph."

That satisfied my curiosity at the time. It was a few days later when I found myself wondering 'Why did Sandra need to go if it was something Emily could handle?'

So I asked and was told "Emily gets flustered easily. I was just helping her out."

Fast forward to three months ago, almost five years later. I found myself at a wedding for someone related to the Morgans. Emily and her extended family were in attendance. I hold no special place in my heart for weddings. As the reception dragged on, I found Ralph, Emily's brother in law, acting equally bored.

"Hey Ralph, haven't talked to you in ages. How did that construction project of yours turn out?"

"Well Noah, since I've never done one, I guess it turned out great. Must be someone else you're thinking about."

I was stunned. Sandra had lied to me, repeatedly.

"I guess so Ralph. Maybe this boring evening is damaging my brain cells more than I thought. How's the golf game?"

We chatted, but I was distracted. On our drive home I thought I tie the noose and see if Sandra hung herself.

"Do you remember way back when you and Emily went up and got that building permit. Who was that for and do you remember what they were building?"

Without hesitation "Emily's friend was building a shed."

There she was, dangling from the gallows. Now I had to find out what really happened.

+ + + +

My father, Gerald, was more than interested in helping. He's a retired firefighter. I confided in him and his eyes sparkled. He went from considering himself useless, to being a private investigator in one afternoon meeting. The best part for me was that he was willing to do it for just expenses.

I really didn't want to know if everything he found out was obtained using completely legal means. The first break came when dad got a copy of Emily's expense report that covered the two trips. She filled her car at the same gas station each time. A check of businesses nearby produced a list of about one hundred within a reasonable distance.

A week later, dad had narrowed his focus to a few businesses. He wasn't going to let my emotions influence him one way or the other, so I was never privy to the details. I agreed that if I went ballistic on something, he might not see things with a level head. Dad narrowed it to a medical facility.

Call me cynical, but I seriously doubt that the medical records for Sandra, from the abortion clinic, were legally obtained. That second trip, a few days later, now made sense as there's a waiting period for an abortion. The abortion she had without my knowledge. Was it my child?

I needed to clear my head, so I took off for a few days on an imaginary book promotion trip. These were feelings that I had never experienced nor endured before. There was a horrid pain in my chest as I realized that I had no soulmate. I didn't really believe that I could morph so quickly and easily from loving Sandra, to hating her.

Whichever scenario I played out would end in divorce. She didn't want my child, or she had gotten pregnant with someone else's child. Without trust you have nothing.

Gerald figured out a brilliant approach to get Emily to squeal. Emily, almost certainly, wouldn't know Gerald's voice. He anonymously phoned and gave her a choice. Convince him otherwise, or he would show her husband Terry the evidence he had of her entering an abortion clinic on multiple occasions. He said she balked at first, but when he gave her dates, she tossed Sandra under the bus in a heartbeat. Attempting to show her sincerity, Emily gave Gerald the name of Sandra's lover and a timeline as best as she could remember.

His name is Trent Hudson, and is seven years younger than Sandra. Dad spent a week on the road tracking him down. He now lived a few states away with a wife of nine years and two kids, aged six and eight. When accused of fathering Sandra's child, he knew all about the abortion and claimed that they hadn't had sex since. The affair lasted six months, with most of the sex happening in the backrooms of Morgan Hardware.

I wanted to let Trent's wife know but Gerald said that had been taken care of. Apparently Trent was recovering from a nasty encounter, and was warned that those nasty encounters would continue until he told his wife. A few days later, Trent was relocating to a motel as his wife had kicked his ass to the curb. He was no longer of concern to me.

One of my colleagues put me in touch with Bart Harmon, a lawyer with the reputation of being the best friend a divorced man could have. Sandra was served, citing adultery, just prior to the family's weekly staff meeting. I would have thought that Sandra would have been the first to call. Strange that it was her father, Howard, who called.

"Listen asshole, I don't know what kind of games you're playing, but this shit stops now. If you two have marital problems then get counseling. Serving her in front of everyone was uncalled for."

"No, you listen shithead. Do you encourage all of your daughters to breed with your suppliers? Is that how Morgan Hardware stays in business? Are you running a fucking whorehouse? Now, leave me alone."

I miss the old dial phones. You just can't slam a cell phone down to vent your frustration. Well, you can, once. A minute later there was another call and again it wasn't Sandra.

"Noah, this is Emily. As soon as Sandra opened the envelope she freaked and has been puking her guts out. I'm sorry about my involvement. Coming this late, after the fact, probably means very little to you, but I am truly sorry. I was hoping you would try to work it out with her."

"Emily, save it. You knew that she was cheating, and you were good with it. I plan on telling Terry about your involvement. I'm not sorry about that."

I didn't wait for a reply, nor did I answer the phone a few seconds later when it showed Emily's caller ID. Wasting no time, I called Terry and told him what I knew. Any woman that doesn't have a problem with her sister's cheating, is a woman who can never be trusted. Turbulent times were ahead for Emily as Terry was livid.

+ + + +

I have a home office, so I moved my stuff into it, and had a twin bed delivered. Things were crowded, but you do what you have to do. With a quick stop at the OTHER hardware store, I put a locking handle on my office.

Without disclosing the worst details, I let Holly and Mark know that I was divorcing their mother. I explained that she had been unfaithful and that was a deal breaker for me. Without trust you have nothing.

Sandra attempted to convince the kids that it was a minor thing and we couldn't have been a happier family since then. It was in the past and that's where it should stay.

Sandra kept trying to change my mind "Noah, I made a mistake. It's in the past."

"Sandra, I don't want to hear it. Fidelity isn't something that changes over time. You either believe in it, like I foolishly did, or you don't, like you. We're done."

The only successful communication between Sandra and I dealt with paying the bills. Our assets had been either split or frozen since the day Sandra was served. I dreaded coming back to the house every day. Sandra refused to sign the listing contract, so selling the house would have to wait for the divorce to wind its way through the courts.

Bart, my lawyer, tried his best, but was unable to sway the judge from mandating counseling. Dad had a great idea. He went into disguise mode and spent countless hours wandering about inside Morgan Hardware. Sandra, always a flirt, was popular with the salesmen. When it came time to sit down with the counselor, I would have a whole folder of pictures, with the names and companies of the salesmen. As Trent was no longer making sales calls, Gerald got several pictures of him from his disgruntled wife.

The first session ended early when Sandra fled the scene. Marsha Higgs, the counselor, laid out the ground rules, about not interrupting. Marsha was a petite woman dressed quite conservatively. I think she wore dark rimmed glasses to project an image. I'd say she was late thirties, if that. Of course I'd probably have better luck guessing the age of a tree.

Sandra went first and explained her position. It turned my stomach the way she minimized her betrayal. When it was my turn, I stood and stared at Sandra.

In a whisper I said "I loved you. I loved all your little faults."

Sandra smiled at that.

In a normal voice "But that wasn't enough for you."

Her smile faded.

In an obnoxious loud voice "Now, I HATE you! I HATE everything about you! I HATE your crooked nose. I HATE the things you do! I HATE the sound of your voice. I HATE the way you look. I HATE how you dress. I HATE your somewhat pregnant look. I HATE how you've lied to your children. I HATE how you've lied to your parents. I can't stand to come home because I HATE you. I HATE your tooth gapped smile. I HATE your perfume. I HATE the way you wear your hair. I HATE your long chin. I HATE you, I HATE you, I HATE you!"

The last few were yelled at her backside as Sandra left. The comments about her teeth, nose, weight, and chin were done to spite her. She's very self-conscious about those things.

Once the door to the counselor's office closed, Marsha looked at me, with a twinkle in her eyes "I see you have some anger issues I'll need to deal with."

"Are you making a snap judgement?"

With a big smile "Exactly. Years of experience has nothing to do with it. Something tells me Sandra won't be back today. How about we use the rest of our time for me to get to know you better."

And so we did. After the first session, Sandra was practically invisible around the house. Mark and Holly started spending most of their spare time at Sandra's parent's house. I'd bet on it, that the brain washing has begun.

Session two had a very meek Sandra now admitting that she had made several bad decisions. In her mind, she'd already stopped doing wrong and life not only could, but should go on as if it never happened.

My dissertation had me looking at no one "For years, in my teaching position, I've had the pleasure of being flashed, both boobs and pussies, by some gorgeous women. My being in a position of power seemed to be an aphrodisiac for those women. I've been offered sex by many young and extremely beautiful college women. I turned them down because I had given my word to be faithful, and kept it. Not only because of my wedding vows, but also because student teacher liaisons are more than frowned upon. Many of those same students came back after graduation and repeated their offers. Why I spent years turning them down now seems pretty stupid. No more. Instead of a somewhat bitchy, overweight wife with sagging tits in my bed, I'll be enjoying some eager young lovers."

I closed my eyes, listening to the sound of Sandra weep.

Marsha tried to keep things moving "Noah, what would you like to hear from Sandra?"

"The line of bull shit Trent used which convinced her to tell him 'wow that's so interesting, let's go in the backroom and fuck'. This should be enlightening."

All I heard was the clickity-clack of heels and the door closing. I opened my eyes to see Marsha shaking her head from side to side.

"What am I going to do with you Noah? See you next week."

The third session was more of the same from Sandra. When my turn came, I was cold but calm and spoke softly. I pulled a random picture out of my folder.

After identifying the salesman in the picture, I asked "Sandra, you look quite friendly with this salesman. Have you had sex with him too?"

"NO!"

"Sure looks like you are flirting. Oh well, if you say so. How about this salesman?"

I pulled out a picture of Trent.

"Well Sandra? Have you had sex with him?"

"Noah, you know the answer."

"Answer the question Sandra. Is this ONE of the salesmen you've had sex with?"

With a raised voice "Yes, but he's the only one."

"Easy for you to say, but hard for me to believe."

The rest of my allotted time was spent repeating my assault. One picture of a random salesman, then a picture of Trent. Marsha was not amused. Sandra was refusing to answer after about the fifth time.

When my time was up, Marsha spoke "Noah, was there a point to this?"

"Of course. Sandra still flirts with the salesmen. All but the pictures of Trent were taken in the last month. How many and how often she's had sex with them will always plague me. She wanted to be a slut, and I refuse to believe that something like that is something you can get out of your system. I have no use for you Sandra, now or in the future. Without trust you have nothing."

The tear damn broke. I waited while Sandra fought back the tears.

"Dammit Noah. I made a mistake. Can you honestly tell me that you've never made a mistake?"

"Oh I definitely made a mistake. I married you, easily the worst mistake of my life. The only good thing to come out of it are Mark and Holly, who may or may not be my children. Who knows, maybe they could have had a dozen siblings, who also may or may not have been mine, if you weren't so busy running off to the clinic."

For the third time in three sessions, Sandra bolted. Marsha rolled her eyes.

"What am I going to do with you Noah? See you next week."

The fourth session was more of my grandstanding. Near the end, Sandra finally broke.

"Noah, people get past affairs all the time. We can too."

"Sandra, you knew when you married me that I was a 'no middle ground' person. You either believe in fidelity or you don't. YOU don't. Game over. You made your choice and now I've made mine."

Quite aggressively "Alright Noah! I'll sign the FUCKing papers! It's just not in you to forgive. I was wrong. I admit it, but it's in the past."