Ashes to Ashes
The following was inspired by an idea from a reader.
There is a reference to an incident in a previous story, “Revenge in Advance: The Briefing.”
As always, constructive comments are always welcome and appreciated.
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc.
John Sullivan wept hot tears as he pored over the photos and the report just handed to him by the private investigator. He now had ironclad proof that April, his wife of nearly 25 years, was cheating on him. At that moment, he had nothing to look forward to but darkness and loneliness. Divorce was the only option.
There was just one problem. His wife was running for re-election to the House of Representatives and she had garnered some very powerful and influential friends. One of them, in fact, was featured prominently in some of the photos he held. A lot of people were going to be damaged by this. And if he wasn’t very careful, he could be one of them.
He had suspected something was wrong for quite some time. Of course, her schedule kept her very busy and she was always jetting off for one thing or another. If it wasn’t a fundraiser, it was something else -- a speech for a prominent civil rights group, a meeting with Hollywood celebrities, an interview on a national television program or even a face-to-face with a foreign dignitary.
He understood that was part of the territory, but there was something more -- her whole attitude towards him had changed over the last year. Initially, she was proud to show him off -- he was, after all, a very successful businessman who started his financial consultation firm from scratch in his home office. Over the years, he had made millions.
But lately, she had become dismissive of him, acting as though he was just a piece of furniture or a household servant. Nothing he did seemed to be quite good enough to suit her. It was great when he became wealthy enough to buy this large McMansion she just had to have and it was great that he was able to put their two children through college.
She never complained when he bought her the new Mercedes she just HAD to have. But now, she would simply walk in the door and hand him her jacket like he was the butler and expect him to wait on her hand and foot.
And sex? Hah! Forget about it. When they were younger, they used to make love several times a week. Now it was maybe a couple times a month, if that. Even then, she acted as though she was doing him a favor by spreading her legs and laying there like a dead fish until he finished.
It all came to a head about three weeks ago at a fundraiser. As usual, she dressed nice and gave him a perfunctory smile as he walked her to his car. He opened the door for her as he always did and drove to the event, listening to her constant string of complaints.
When they arrived, she painted on a smile for the cameras and acted the loving wife. He wanted to puke. She introduced him to a few movers and shakers, then ordered him to get her drink while she chatted with her colleagues.
Being the dutiful and considerate husband, he went to the bar and ordered the usual -- beer for him and a gin and tonic for her. While he waited, two young men came to the bar, excited about something. He couldn’t help but overhear their conversation.
“You think she’ll do it right here?” one man asked.
“Oh hell, yeah,” the other man said.
“No fucking way,” the first man said. “With her husband here? Seriously?”
“That’s why I got my best camera, dude,” the second man said. “Talk about an exclusive!”
“You got that right,” the first man said. “Every paper in the country will be after those pics.”
John wasn’t stupid, so he kept an eye on the two men after they left. There were always rumors about some politician getting involved in an adulterous affair, and he normally ignored them. But April’s attitude lately had him wondering if she was getting some on the side. He got the drinks and headed back to the main event, but his wife was no where to be found.
He went to their table and set the drinks down, then began looking around. She was scheduled to speak tonight, so he figured she was somewhere behind the curtains getting herself composed and prepared for her speech. What he found instead signaled the end of his marriage.
He walked backstage and was behind a curtain when he heard his wife talking with another man. He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, so he peeked around the curtain. There she was, her arms around Doug Simpson, the local Party boss. Her face lit up as she kissed him, full on the lips. He kissed her back, his hands lifting the back of her dress. She ground her crotch into his as he cupped her panty-clad ass. She hadn’t looked at John like that for months if not longer.
“God, baby, I’m so fucking hot for you,” he said.
“I wish I didn’t have to give a speech tonight,” she said in response. “I’d love to rip these clothes off and fuck your brains out right here.”
“What about your husband?” he asked. “Isn’t he here tonight?”
“Yeah, but he’s a clueless wimp,” she said. “He’s so spineless he’d probably just excuse himself and walk away.”
“Well, you’d better get ready for your speech,” he said. “Maybe afterward, you can tell him that you have stuff to do for your campaign and you’ll be gone for a while. Then we can head out to the Marriot on the beach.”
“The usual location?” she asked. He nodded his head.
“What can I say?” he asked. “I like the view.”
“That sounds like a good idea, lover,” she said, kissing him. “See ya later.” John left the area as quickly as he could and went looking for the two men he saw earlier. He spotted them about ten feet from their table and made a beeline for them.
“Excuse me, gentlemen,” he said as he walked up to them. “Can we talk for just a minute?” They looked at him, confused.
“Sure, man,” one of them said. “What’s up?”
“Hey, wait a minute,” the second man said. “I know you. You’re Congresswoman Sullivan’s husband, aren’t you?” John nodded his head and shook the hand offered him.
“Yes, I am,” he said. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping on you earlier, but I heard the two of you talking at the bar.” They looked at each other for a moment before addressing John.
“Um, yeah,” the first man said. “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”
“That’s okay,” John said. “I’m just curious, were you two talking about my wife, the congresswoman?” The second man looked down, sheepishly.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Sullivan, but yeah,” he said.
“Please, call me John,” John told him. “And there’s no need to apologize. Are you two with the media?”
“Well, not exactly,” the first man said. “We’re with an independent political blog and we’ve been covering your wife for a while now. We were hoping to come up with a scoop that might put us up on Drudge.”
“I see,” John said. “Are you with the opposition?”
“Not really,” the first man said. “We just follow the leads where they take us. We don’t care which party, really. In our view, everyone in Washington is crooked.” John smiled. He liked these two young men and he admired their attitude.
“Understand,” he said. “Look, can we talk, maybe after the fundraiser, off the record?”
“Sure, Mr., er, John,” the first man said. “But won’t your wife be with you?”
“From what I heard, I rather doubt it,” John said. He looked at the dais and saw his wife standing there, scanning the room, probably looking for him. “I think they’re going to be starting soon, so let’s meet afterward, okay?”
“You got it, John,” the first man said. John turned and walked back to his table, his mind in turmoil. How could April do this to him -- to them? After all these years? Was he not man enough for her? Did he not provide for her sufficiently? Or was she just simply drunk on power? He needed answers, and he needed them fast.
April stormed up to him after he got to their table, which was situated right in front of the raised platform where the speakers would be delivering their messages.
“Where the hell were you?” she asked angrily. “My drink is warm now. You need to get me another one.” He looked at her and took a sip from his beer. She looked at the beer with disgust. “Couldn’t you just for once drink something besides a beer, for God’s sake?”
“Fuck you,” he said quietly, causing her eyes to open wide. He had never talked back to her like this before. “I got your goddamn drink, it’s not my fault you let it get warm. And I happen to like beer. Get one of your flunkies to fetch you a cold drink if you want one or better yet, get it your own damn self. I’m not paid to be your fucking butler.”
“Well, I never,” she began.
“That’s not what I hear,” John said. She turned on him.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, clearly agitated. John snickered.
“You’re so goddamn smart, you figure it out,” he said.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you, John Sullivan,” she said. “But you’d better drop the attitude right now. This evening’s very important to me, and it’s important to the Party.”
“Why, yes, ma’am, whatever you say,” John said, adopting a fake accent he knew got under her skin. She huffed and turned away, heading to a point just behind the platform. As she left, Doug walked up to him with a smirk on his face. He held out his hand, but John refused to shake it.