A Weely Ride

My lovely wife unfortunately had an accident recently (see my story An Ordinary Love Story for our own tale). As she lay in hospital, I was in charge of her phone and she said, "This would make a good story, if a wife was up to no good." That throwaway comment prompted this story.

She is recovering well from her injuries, but we have spent a considerable amount of time in the hospital recently, so I am confident that the medical aspect of this story is accurate for UK treatment.

There are no sex scenes here, so please move on if that's not your thing.

Please note this work is copyrighted, and I do not give permission for any part of it to be used elsewhere. I think that the stealing of work to monetize from this website, which is given freely by authors, is abhorrent. ©Corny1974

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When we married, Emma had already been riding for years. She had never owned her own horse, but she pre,ferred to take lessons every week. Even the stable staff laughed at the lesson tag. At 44, she had been riding for over thirty years, so they used her to train and ride some of the more difficult horses.

Although we were known for being a close couple, it was something we couldn't share, as I was wildly allergic to horses. My head started to swell, and my eyes swelled shut. As a child, we only found this out during a pony trek on holiday in Spain. I did not appear in any of those holiday photos. Various families managed to corner me in the lift to check that my parents had not hurt me.

My Dad understood, but he did say, "We're going to get arrested, and he's only ridden a bloody pony."

Consequently, Emma's passion for riding was very definitely her thing. Yet, if we weren't at work or she was riding, we were together.

Our daughter Sophie was 23 and living with her boyfriend, Rich. She'd never been interested in riding but was a proficient ice skater, which had meant a lot of very early mornings for poor old dad when I took her to training.

I used to enjoy the few hours of solitude on Sunday morning whilst Emma rode. It was my chill time, well me and the dog. One Sunday, she'd only been gone for half an hour when the stables rang.

'Is that Will? It's the stables. Don't worry but Emma has taken a tumble. Don't panic, she's fine, but she thinks she may have broken her arm.'

I was there within ten minutes. I raced around looking for the office. I'd never be able to risk visiting before. When I finally found her, I was shocked. Not only was she crying, her face was covered in blood. She'd broken her nose and bitten her lip badly.

"You could have warned me about the blood."

The young stable girl looked shocked and panicked. "The boss isn't here today, we didn't know what to do."

"Well, I think an ambulance might have been a start," I snapped as I gently led a screaming Emma to the car.

The hospital was ten minutes away and it was honestly the longest drive of my life. She was in so much pain. It is heartbreaking to hear your loved one in so much pain and not be able to do anything to help.

We were half way there when she suddenly said, "I think I blacked out. I was riding and then you were there, talking about blood."

That brief moment of lucidity was soon over as she continued to sob and scream. At A and E, they soon took over once they got over the shock that a trauma patient was a walk-in.

That was the chant we heard constantly -'You walked in!'

The worst part was that Emma could not give them the details they so desperately needed, as she had no memory of the fall. The stable staff hadn't told me either. I was getting increasingly cross and frustrated.

The resus staff were fabulous, though. They soon got some pain meds in her and whisked her off for X-rays and a CT scan. The stable staff had given me Emma's phone in all the confusion. It had been constantly vibrating in my pocket since we arrived at the hospital. I'd ignored it, but as I waited, it started to irritate me. I went to open it and was surprised to find that it had a password. Mine didn't have one, and I assumed that hers didn't either. We always had open access to our phones, when had that changed?. It continued to vibrate as I waited, so I decided to try some numbers.

I got it at the second attempt. Her parents wedding anniversary. Her Mum had died from complications from Alzheimers and her father had followed shortly afterwards, Emma was convinced that he had died from a broken heart.

There were loads of missed calls alongside a lot of texts from someone called Amy. Never heard of her? I opened the texts and it rapidly became apparent that Amy was actually Adam

WHERE ARE YOU BABE?

ARE YOU DELAYED AT RIDING? YOU'VE HAD YOUR RIDE. NOW IT'S MY TURN. YOUR MOUNT IS READY FOR YOU!!!!

IS EVERYTHING OK? I'M GETTING WORRIED. YOU NEVER MISS OUR SUNDAY MORNING JUMP.

TEXT ME, PLEASE BABE. I'M GETTING REALLY WORRIED.

Heard the expression 'and the world stopped'. Well, mine did at that moment. I could hear the noise and beeps of the machines, the Tannoy asking for a domestic to clean up bay three, but my world had stopped.

Who the fuck was Adam?

All the other texts had been deleted, so I only had what I'd read.

I don't know how long I sat there before Emma was wheeled back in. Before we had time to speak the young doctor with a hipster beard rushed in,

"Well, Emma, you have made a mess of yourself, haven't you? You have a dislocated left elbow and wrist, the wrist is also broken, and you have broken your right arm and thumb. You've also broken some ribs and your nose. You will need surgery on your wrist and your thumb within the next few days, but first, we need to get that elbow back in. I suggest your husband waits outside in the corridor for that. I suspect he's heard enough screams for one day. He's looking rather pale."

Little did he know that I had another reason to be in shock. I waited outside while they put her elbow back in position. It seemed like only a few minutes before I was beckoned back in by the bearded doctor. The room was a mess, and the bed was covered with plaster. Emma was plastered up to the top of her left arm, and her right arm was plastered to the elbow. I'm not sure what they had given Emma apart from the Entonox, but she was obviously feeling no pain. She had a dreamy look on her face.

"How's the best husband in the world? You came to save me, didn't you?"

I saw my opportunity. "Yes, but Adam will have missed you this morning, won't he?"

"Poor Adam, he'll be sad without my visit. You'd like him, he's nice. I cheer him up; he was so sad about his wife. She's ill like Mum was."

"Should I go and tell Adam about your accident, so he doesn't worry?"

"You really are the best husband in the world. You tell him whilst I have a little sleep. He lives in May Cottage. I love you." With that, she was asleep.

The nurse, who had been trying to clean up some of the plaster mess, smiled and said, "She will be going to the ward soon; if I were you, I'd let her sleep. You've had a shock, too; go and get some rest."

She had no idea of the shock that I'd just had. She passed me a card with the details of the orthopaedic ward where Emma would shortly be moved, as I sadly walked back to the car to pay the huge car park fee that awaited me.

At least Millie, the dog, was happy to see me when I finally got home. I rang Sophie and told her what had happened to her Mum and what ward she would be in.

"Oh, Dad, what a shock for you. How will you cope when she comes out of the hospital? She won't be able to do anything for herself; you'll have to toilet her, shower her, dress her and do her hair."

"I won't be doing any of those things, Sophie," I said, my voice cracking. "I won't be here. I'm divorcing your Mum. Maybe her boyfriend will want to look after her."

"What are you talking about, Dad? What boyfriend?"

"He's called Adam," and I told Sophie all I knew. She was stunned, but she did promise to come and collect some sleepwear and toiletries to take to her Mum.

She found me staring into space in a dark house. I hadn't even noticed it had got dark.

She turned on the lamp by my chair before taking my hand, "Rough day, Dad?"

"The worst, sweetheart. I can't believe this has happened. I'm so torn. I hate her for what she's done to us, yet I can't help worrying about her. It was so awful seeing her in pain this morning. It broke my heart that I couldn't do anything to help her. Now my heart's broken for another reason."

"Dad, Rich and I are here for you. There isn't any way you could be mistaken."

I passed her the phone and let her read the messages. "The bitch. I can't believe that she's done this to you."

"She's still your Mum, Sophie. She's just not my wife anymore."

"Dad, she didn't just cheat on you. She cheated on the family. I'll go and see her. I'll check she's comfortable; I'll give her these things. I'll say that you're in shock, and I told you not to come till tomorrow. That should give you time to decide what you're going to do. I won't tell her that we know anything. I think that's for you to say. I love you, Dad. You deserved better."

After she left, I'm not ashamed to say that I shed a tear. It had been a bastard of a day.

Despite barely sleeping, I got up to go to work as usual. Maybe some normality was what I needed. Something was puzzling me, though, May Cottage? Something about that address rang a bell with me. It was one of the cottages they called the spring cottages. Abby, the new hire at my firm, lived in April Cottage. I'd even dropped her off one night when she had car trouble. There were three terraced cottages: March, April and May Cottage. They were situated high above the road, with steps leading up to the garden. I called her into my office.

"Hi, Abby. Don't worry, you're not in trouble. It's nothing about work; it's something else. Something a bit personal, to be honest. I just wanted to ask a question. You don't have to have to answer if it makes you feel at all uncomfortable."

Abby looked horrified. I'm sure she thought I was about to make a statement that would require her to visit the HR department swiftly.

I decided to plow on ahead, "What can you tell me about Adam, who lives next door to you?"

"Why? Is he a friend of yours, Mr Bannister?"

"No, quite the opposite. A friend of mine is not very happy with your neighbour at the moment."

"Disgruntled husband is he, this friend of yours?"

"Yes, he is."

"Well, I would have thought that there would be a lot of those. He has a few different women on the go. Different women for different days. He tried it on with my Mum once. My dad was going to thump him. We can't get our head around how he manages it. Have you ever seen him?"

"No, I haven't had that pleasure."

"Well, he's no looker. In fact, he's fat and bald, with a comb-over. We can't work out how he gets these women. Some of them are a bit dodgy, but some are really attractive. His Sunday morning woman is a real looker. My Mum always has to make sure that my dad is busy when she comes, as she caught him perving on her in her jodhpurs."

If she saw me wince at that statement, she didn't let on. "What about his wife?"

"Oh, that is sad. She's in a home, early onset dementia. She's not even fifty yet. He never goes to see her. It's not even one of the nicer homes, either. His daughter doesn't speak to him anymore. She thinks that he put her mum in a home far too early. If he had shown her any care, she could have stayed in her home a little longer, but he just wasn't interested. Now she accepts that her Mum has gone, but she's very bitter about the lack of compassion he showed her mum in the early days, and she refuses to accept him sleeping with all and sundry."

"Thank you, Abby; he sounds a complete delight; that's been very illuminating. I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable discussing this with you. It's just I recognised the address and thought of you."

"That's fine, Mr Bannister; you've always been very kind to me. I'm glad I could help, and I'm sorry for your friend; if he's as nice as you, then I'm sure he doesn't deserve it."

I received a phone call from the ward in the afternoon; the staff wanted to ensure that someone would be at home to care for Emma after her operation. I told them that we were separated and that I would not be responsible for her care. They seemed puzzled as Emma had assured them that I would be looking after her. I stressed that she was confused and that we were no longer together.

I have to say I didn't do much work that day; I just couldn't concentrate on anything, so I decided to take the rest of the week as leave. I thought work might have been a distraction, but I was wrong. I also needed to find somewhere temporary to live. First, I needed to collect Emma's car from the stables. I saw one of the stable girls and took the opportunity to ask how long Emma usually rode on a Sunday morning.

"For the past six months, she's just been having an hour. She said that she couldn't afford three hours every week anymore." That told me all I needed to know. She's been visiting that slimeball for six months and lying to me.

I went home, fully expecting to spend the night getting drunk. I couldn't stop thinking about Emma. I'd loved her for twenty-five years, and I'd thought she felt the same. We'd always been so happy. I hated what she'd done, but I also hated the thought of her lying alone in that hospital bed at visiting time. I also felt that she needed to know what I knew and why we would be divorcing. She deserved that much.

I found her in a side room on the ward. I put her phone on the cupboard by her bed. I had made sure to delete Adam's number. Let her try to contact him easily now.

When she noticed me, I did not receive a warm welcome, "Where have you been? I can't believe that you would do this to me, desert me when I really need you. The nurse tells me that you won't look after me when I come home. Please tell me she's wrong. I don't want anyone else looking after me. I don't want strangers taking me to the toilet and showering me. It's embarrassing."

"Well, it was quite embarrassing for me to find out that my wife is a slut. I would have been happy to nurse you, and I would have done it proudly before you decided to let some jerk peel off your jodhpurs every Sunday morning for the past six months. Well, I can't believe you would expect me to care for you after what you've done."

"What are you talking about? You're not making sense."

"Perhaps I should ring Adam for you, 'Babe'? He's cared for some of your more intimate needs recently. Perhaps you could ask him to wipe your arse for you? Though from what I've heard about him, he doesn't have a lot of empathy."

"Who told you? You were never meant to find out?"

"You told me - well, you both did - with him constantly ringing, anxious that he'd missed his little Sunday morning delight."

"You don't understand; it isn't like that; he isn't like that; he's not a threat to us. I know that I've crossed a line. I know you're upset, and you have every right to be, but it's not what you think it was."

"You've been having sex with another man on a weekly basis; it's exactly what I think it was. Crossed a line -- you've drawn a line through our marriage. Null and void."

"You can't mean that. I was just comforting Adam. I was out on a hack one morning, and the horse suddenly stopped and refused to move. We started chatting. He told me about his wife having dementia. He looked so sad; it made me think of my mum and dad."

"So, you decided to comfort him with your pussy? I've never felt sadder than I do at this moment. I hope there's a passing nurse who might want to cheer me up in the same way."

"You don't mean that."

"Oh, I do. Our marriage is null and void, remember? I'm back on the market, and you are on your own. They've asked me if there's anyone at home to look after you, and I've told them that there isn't. The re-enablement team will visit you after surgery to arrange carers for you. You'll get them four times a day. Of course, you will have to wear adult diapers until they arrive to change you; sorry about that. Oh, and don't think about asking Sophie to help, either. She's disgusted with you. I'm sure she'll pop in occasionally. You are her Mum, after all, but she has made it plain that she won't be looking after you."

"Will, I know I've done wrong, but I don't deserve this."

"No, Emma, none of us deserve what's happened. At least your bones will heal, and you'll have recovered in a couple of months. You'll be back riding your horses and riding Adam and God knows who else. But me? I'll never get over what you've done; I'll never heal; you've broken me for good."

"Don't say that, please, I love you. I can't lose you over this. We're too special together."

"Well, obviously not special enough; what on earth did you think would happen when I found out?"

"I didn't think that you would. It was completely separate from us. It started innocently enough. I never set out to cheat on you, to hurt you. It just happened."

"What? You just happened to fall on his dick on a weekly basis?"

"No, after that first meeting, I started stopping in for a chat on the way home from riding. I felt so sorry for him. He seemed so sad, so pathetic, really. He isn't handsome or fit like you; it wasn't like I found him attractive. I just felt sorry for him."

"So, you decided to give him a pity fuck? I don't know what's worse; if he had been a young hunk, it would have been bad enough, but him. You threw us away for someone like him because you felt sorry for him?"

"It just happened the first time, he started crying, and I just started to comfort him."

"What's next? Will you be comforting the homeless, young men who are sad because they are still virgins, or perhaps visiting octogenarians in the old people's homes to comfort them? There are a lot of unhappy men out there, are you going to try and comfort them all with your cunt?"

She winced at that word; I knew how much she hated that term.

"Of course not; this was different. I was ashamed after that first time, but then I came home to you, and I realised that it didn't have to change anything. You didn't know anything about him, and although he knew I was married, he didn't know anything about you. He doesn't even know your name. It was separate from us, like my riding. I could keep it in a little box."

"So, because I didn't know, because I trusted you, you decided to carry on? He must have been important for you to betray me so easily. And was he worth your while? Was it good, did he make you cum? You kept going back for more."

"What can I say? I might not have found him attractive in that way, but it was different, and I admit I responded, but he was never as good as you. Not even close. It had just been such a long time since he had been with a woman, with his wife being ill. I really was just trying to comfort him."

"Yes, so you said, but you've got it so wrong. He has different women coming and going from that cottage daily. Different women on different days. He probably calls you all 'Babe' so he doesn't mix up your names. You weren't special; you were just one of many. Some of them were quite rough-looking, apparently. If it makes you feel any better, you were the most attractive, according to the neighbours. That reminds me, I suppose I need an STD test, don't I? I wonder where that department is in the hospital. Being a faithful husband, I've never needed to know before."

"Other women? I don't believe it."

"Are you shocked that someone you were being unfaithful with isn't faithful? Oh, he was just using you. Your little charity shag is a real bastard. He doesn't even go to see his poor wife. His own daughter has gone no-contact as he's such a git. That's who you threw me away for, threw our marriage away for -- a fat, unattractive liar. I hope it was worth it."