Your Sins Find You Out - Derek's Story

When I wrote 'Your Sins Find You Out', it was supposed to be a simple story, written from the perspective of the wife. It was a standalone story. When I looked at the comments I was struck by the number of comments about Derek (both for and against his actions) and I felt his story needed to be told.

When reading this story please remember an old saying I was once told -- There are three sides to every story: his side, her side and the truth. Some people may wonder why there is so much more about the marriage. That's simple, his perspective of events are very different from hers.

As always, thank you to my editor, Kenji. He does a great job making my stories read and flow properly.

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Within your life, there are moments which appear to define everything you do from that point forward. You don't always know about them until later in life, but they define and control your life nonetheless. Mine happened the day before my wife's twenty-fifth birthday, but she kept it a secret. I only noticed as she treated me with ever greater degrees of disrespect and contempt, until her secret came out. After twenty-three years of trying to figure out what I did wrong, it was shown to be her losing love and respect for me.

Mel (Melissa to her mum) and I (Derek Andrews) had been together since we were very young. Everyone thought it was just childhood puppy love, but we knew better. We did everything together and married as soon as we were legally allowed to. We both went to college, just as man and wife. I probably had more sex than anyone in college. I had life by the tail and it was good,

Mel wanted to move back to our hometown after graduation, and when I was offered a great job opportunity in our local town, we both jumped at it. I was lead designer in the CNC division, and, if I kept my nose clean, I had a good career path in that office for my whole working life.

Mel had a great flair for marketing and was snapped up by a local advertising agency to design and run campaigns in print and web media throughout the state.

Both of us were earning much higher salaries than we had expected. Then something happened that looked like good fortune, but really, it started a chain of events which would lead to destruction.

Our income allowed us to get a much bigger mortgage than we thought, so we went onto the housing ladder with a large, five-bedroom house sitting on two acres of land. It had everything we needed. I had a workshop, Mel had room for her garden, one of the bedrooms was turned into a design studio, and I was able to set up a home office just off the main living room.

It is fair to say children were not on any plan. For me, they were something that was bound to happen, but I was not fussed if it took a long time. I think Mel had the same idea, as she was on the pill and made no mention about being broody.

We were in the house for about six months when I came home one night to find Mel crying in the kitchen. Naturally, I was concerned and I put both arms around her, and asked, "What's the matter, sweetheart?"

Through her tears, she replied, "Mum is giving me hell. Janet Woods, who was in our class, has just announced she's pregnant. There are now five of my friends either pregnant or already have children and mum won't stop. She is practically demanding we have a child. I don't want one yet, but she doesn't care. That is all she talks about and it is getting me down."

I knew her mum was making comments, I had heard them when we were at her house. Simple things like 'that new house of yours will need a lot of filling, you better get started,' and 'how many girls from school are pushing prams already, why aren't you?'

The following Sunday, I cornered her mum and said, "Please stop going on about babies. Mel and I want to establish our careers, and you constantly going on, is making her unhappy."

The reply from her mother was brutal. "Careers don't bring me pleasure, I want a grandchild, so deal with it."

I talked to Mel about her mum that night. That brought more tears. Her mum seemed to think the more Mel cried, the more likely she was to give in and get pregnant. Mel thought I should have been more forceful with her mum, but what do you say to your mother-in-law. I suggested we shouldn't spend as much time with her, but, ultimately, Mel was attached to her mum and would not accept a reduction in contact.

Things at home went a little south. Mel's mum would phone every night around seven, and they would spend thirty minutes on the call. After it was over, Mel would always be a bit sullen. When I asked her what was wrong, she would say, "What do you think? She's at me again and you leave me to take the flack every time."

I was starting to worry for Mel's mental health and our marriage, but then salvation came calling, or so I thought. Mel was approaching her twenty-fifth birthday and her friends called me about taking her out for a spa day and night at a local spa hotel. I thought it was a great idea. So, it was arranged for Friday night, she would come home Saturday, and her birthday was on Sunday. I knew a night out with the girls would at least give Mel a new perspective on life.

Mel was happy all week, we even managed five consecutive nights of sex, something that had vanished from our lives with Mel's sullen moods after her mum's calls. I had total faith in Mel, knowing she would not cheat on me, so I waved her off on Friday with a warm feeling in my gut that things would get back on track. I spent that night watching golf and enjoying the peace and quiet.

It was about ten on the Saturday morning, and I was having my morning coffee, while checking my personal emails when Mel came in. I was surprised to see her so early, but delighted she was home. I heard her bag drop at the bottom of the stairs and she shouted, "Hallo!" as she poured some coffee, then walked into the living room to stand beside the computer table. I looked up at her and she was glowing. She then scared the crap out of me by saying, "Derek, come and sit with me; we need to talk."

My mind raced. Yes, I had read stories about that phrase, and my first thought was, 'Oh shit, have the girls talked about other men and she wants to try one?'

Thankfully, she didn't beat about the bush. She came straight out with, "You know, I am twenty-five tomorrow, and my mum is putting me under pressure to have a baby. I did a lot of thinking last night, and I have decided I want to at least give it a chance. I don't want to try and have a baby, but I want to go off birth control and see what happens. I want to go off them for my birthday."

I was so relieved I would have said yes to anything. This was not in my game plan, but what the hell. I knew some of her friends were pregnant and I guessed they spent the night talking about babies and she was now broody. I didn't really mean to, but I actually blurted out my true feelings when I said, "I thought you were going to ask for a divorce or worse, ask for a night with some random bloke which would be asking for a divorce in another way. Yes, I would love that. No trying, just having fun. Sounds great. Let's do it."

That night, we had a great meal prepared by Mel and an expensive bottle of wine then flushed her pills. I thought the plan was to keep our sex lives at the same pace, but Mel stepped it up big time. She was initiating sex every night and most mornings. I was not complaining; I was twenty-five and could get it up as often as she wanted.

What I did notice was a few snide comments when her period came.

The first month she said, "Oh, your swimmers didn't do it the first time." The next month, she said, "You would have thought that that amount of sex would have got a harem pregnant," and the third month, she was downright rude when she said, "Couldn't get it done again, Derek?"

She missed her period on the fourth month, and a home pregnancy kit confirmed she was pregnant. She cut me off immediately, saying she didn't want to hurt the babies, and she thought it might cause a miscarriage if we did 'it'.

I knew these statements were rubbish, but a pregnant woman could be, let's be polite, difficult sometimes, so I just let it ride and stuck with 'palm sisters' for however long it took.

The pregnancy was normal and Mel delivered twins. The first indication that I was not going to be consulted about their lives came with their naming. The morning after they were born, I went to the shop and collected all the items you need for newborns. Two Cribs, two car seats, two strollers, etc. I took them all home, set them up then went to the hospital. When I arrived, Mel's mum was sitting beside the bed holding the boy and Mel was holding the girl.

Mel looked at me with a look that wasn't quite clear and said, "Meet Judith and Sam."

I just said, "You named them without asking me?"

And her mum piped up, "Well yes, why do you need input into it. Judith is after my mum and Sam is after her dad'`s brother, who died very young."

The birth certificates were in an envelope at the end of the bed, it was all done. I loved the children already, but I felt cut out by the way this was done. I bit my lip and enjoyed my children, when my mother-in-law let me hold them, which was not very often.

About six weeks later, Mel announced that she had been to her gynaecologist and he had advised her not to have any more children. As a result, she had made an appointment for me to go and see the doctor about a vasectomy. Again, no discussion. It was arranged and I was expected to toe the line. It was made very clear that no vasectomy meant no sex. I got the vasectomy and five clear sperm tests before Mel would even allow me to touch her again. Even at that, our sex life never recovered, three times a month was getting lucky.

The general level of disrespect kept on going. She would make bad jokes to her friends about my 'drawing' job, even though by this time, I was the manager of the design facility and earning two hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year plus bonus, meaning Mel did not have to work.

I loved playing softball when I was a kid, so I and a few other fathers set up a softball team for the kids in the area. We weren't that great at the start, but we were getting better. I was so much looking forward to Sam being on the team, but Mel dropped a real bombshell one night when she announced my team was not 'good enough for her son' and sent him to play for a different team. I was devastated, but Mel didn't seem to notice.

Just about that time, a few kids from the neighbourhood came through and they were very good. The day my team beat Sam's team for the local championship was bittersweet. I celebrated with my team, while watching Sam cry to his mum. Mel hardly talked to me for a month, and l didn't even get a peck on the cheek going to work for six months, until Sam's team beat my team in the first game of the next season. I 'retired' after that game, and hadn't been to a kids softball game since.

Mel made all of the school decisions; the only thing I had to do was pay for it.

Judith performed well at school, and it was clear from early on, that she wanted to be a doctor. I set up a college fund for her and worked hard to ensure it was fully funded for the high cost of medical school. By the time she had turned eighteen, the fund was large enough to ensure she would graduate with virtually no debt. I was so proud that I could give my daughter that start in life, but again Mel never commented on it.

Sam was a different proposition. He was not academic, but he had an artistic streak. I had bought him a cheap camera when he was seven or eight, and it was clear he had a real flair for photography. He was winning prizes with his cheap camera in magazines and at the local photography club, so for his twelfth birthday, I bought him a good camera, and for each Christmas and birthday after, he asked for more equipment. By the time he was fifteen, he was the photographer for all the local school sports events, being published in the local paper and was attending the local oval as the official photographer for the motor club. I drove him everywhere and we had a blast. By the time he was eighteen, his photographs of motorsports events were being published in national papers and sports magazines, and his career path was set. He had a couple of photos syndicated in Japan and Europe, and I stopped asking how much he was being paid when he arrived home in a brand-new European sports car, which he wrote a check for. Not bad at eighteen!

Life at home was never great. Yes, Mel loved me in her own way, but she could be cold and appeared to like to put me down with snide comments; especially when her mum was over or we had friends in. The comments were never that bad, but they were always cutting.

One of the worst comments was at our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary when someone asked Mel why we didn't have a third child. She said, "It took Darren so long to get the business done with the twins, I just couldn't be bothered listening to him, grunting and groaning on top of me, for a third."

When she said these things, I would often think back to that morning prior to her twenty-fifth birthday. When she had said, "We need to talk," there was a certain look in her eye that morning, and when she insulted or humiliated me, the same look was there. The nagging feeling that the direction of my whole life was set by the events of that party had always haunted me. I was certain something had gone down, maybe her friends were derogatory, maybe something else. I had no idea, but I knew she never respected me as much, after that party. I hated that part of her, but I loved the rest of her. The problem was this derogatory part was growing, and I was sorry to admit to it, but it was pushing out the love I had for her.

It was coming up to our thirtieth wedding anniversary, and I knew we needed to make a big splash and try to reconnect, or I felt our marriage would just slowly wither and die on the vine. She acted like I was a pair of comfortable slippers, and I found myself responding to her snide comments with snide comments of my own.

We decided on a cruise. The planning and preparations were fantastic. Our relationship returned to what it was like twenty-five years ago. We snuggled at night, we even managed to make love, not just her using me as a human dildo, every now and again. I was certain this was going to work; we would reconnect, and we would be together until 'death do us part'. Both of us had only been with each other and that made our whole relationship extra special. There was no one else in it and it was better for that.

The ship was an engineer's dream. I had looked up her design and was looking forward to a tour of the engine room. (OK, I'm a nerd sue me.) The opening gala dinner was on the first night. We had just sailed from Miami and the breeze on the balcony was a refreshing change from the oppressive heat in harbour. As we walked to the dining room, Mel took my hand. I had a nice, warm feeling inside that we could really put this silliness behind us.

As we walked down the line, Mel quickly shook hands with the senior crew members who were assembled to meet the guests. I had stopped with the engineer to ask about a tour, and had turned to shake hands with the second officer when I heard a stranger say, "Mel, good grief. I haven't seen you since that wonderful night at the Hilton. How's it going? You appear to be on your own, did you dump the wimp of a husband?"

I stopped mid-stride. It was clearly meant for my wife, and I watched as the stranger walked up, arms outstretched, to hug my wife. She did not refuse the hug or the passionate kiss on the lips that went with it. My mind was in turmoil, the kiss had sexual experience written over it. Something in my head said run, you need to think, 'This is wrong, something is wrong in your life.'

I turned and headed for the dining room door. I thought I heard Mel speak, but I didn't know what was said or to whom. My first thought was to go to the room, but I knew she would go straight there. Instead, I went to a small alcove, just down from our room. From there I could see the door. A few minutes later, Mel arrived at the room. She was obviously crying, but I didn't want to see her. I knew her and I knew her attitude. She would try to belittle me, blame what ever happened on me, then lie to get her way out of it. I could not let that happen, I had to know the truth. I also knew that the truth would probably bring the curtain down on the ruins of our marriage.

She didn't stay in the room long, and she headed back down the corridor, passing my alcove without noticing me sitting in the dark. The metaphor of our marriage was not lost on me.

I entered the room and went to the fridge. I wanted a beer, but when I opened it and took a drag, it tasted bitter. Getting drunk was not the answer.

I went to the balcony and sat in one of the chairs. The breeze helped my sore head and the odd splash and sting of salt water felt good. I drank my beer slowly, and just waited. As a designer, I often looked at a problem and allowed my mind to clear, and a solution would come into focus. This was not a design problem, but it was a conundrum and I needed to find answers to questions I didn't even know to ask yet.

The first word that struck me was 'Hilton'. There was a local Hilton in the centre of town but we never used it. It had a spa, but our local gym had a spa; it had a restaurant, but I didn't like it, and it had places to stay, but we never stayed in a hotel locally. So what was significant about the Hilton? Then it struck me-- Mel's birthday and spa weekend. That fateful party and the day after from which all her disrespect had flowed.

I could replay the events from the next day. Several of her friends were pregnant, but a couple of others were real sluts. I had trusted Mel not to do anything, but the next day when she said, "We need to talk," I really feared the sluts had talked her into the need to 'sample' someone else before she started a family.

I had told her then that if she asked to be with someone else, it was like asking for a divorce, but she had asked to start a family. I remember it well, and making our babies had been fun, but one factor kept coming into my head; we didn't make love after that day-- she treated me like a human dildo.

My mind closed down for a while, and I could see the last embers of the sun sparkling over the horizon. The lights dancing brought another thought, did she already have sex with this man before we had that talk. The description of me as 'wimpy' certainly fitted into that, and also explained her lack of respect for me. Did she think I was a wimp and that was why she basically excluded me from decision making about the children and their lives. This was a twenty-three-year-old pattern, but it explained everything.

I had no idea how long I had sat in that seat. It was now dark, and my beer had been finished a long time ago, but I just had no energy to move, no desire to think, and no desire to be with my wife.

Just then, the door to the cabin flung open and light from the corridor flooded into the room. Then the door closed, and Mel stepped onto the balcony.

She said, "Can I sit with you?"

I didn't really care; I didn't want to hear her story. I knew I would not get past it because this was not a one-off event. She may or may not have had sex with that man more than once. She may have had sex with other men, but what mattered, was the disrespect she had treated me with for over twenty-three years. That was a cold and calculated action based on her feelings of superiority because she had a secret over me and she enjoyed that power. In her own way, she cheated on me every day in her mind. Ultimately, Mel really had become a nasty bitch and a marriage cannot survive that level of insult driven by an infidelity she clearly did not regret. My guess was she would actually blame me for what she did.