Betrayed for Love

It had been a difficult day at the office to say the least. My boss, Julliette, had forgotten about the meeting with Dunsten and Fitzgerald, and I had been left to try and pick up the pieces of the calamitous and disastrous deal. Our team had been working for months on the D&F acquisition, it was to be worth over 15 million dollars to our company, but it was all undone by Julliette's absent mindedness. Not that I couldn't blame her I guess, at least partially. Julliette's marriage to Brad was in its death throes, and the reasons for it were horrific.

She was heartbroken. Devastated. Distraught. And she had been for the last six weeks she had been a walking corpse effectively, ever since she caught Brad in bed with her mother. Now not only was her marriage dead or dying, so was her parents, and she had yet to receive even the hint of an apology from either of the duplicitous transgressors.

After the D&F meeting fell through, I had tried as best as I could to assuage Henry Dunsten Jr of our company's commitment. But how can you prove commitment to a multimillion dollar deal, when you are unable to meet it for an important and planned negotiation.

Julliette had been sent home, hell, she should have been removed from leading the project as soon as her world imploded, and that was on senior management. I had spent the afternoon with Jarvis Rodwell and Emily Pinter, the two managers for our eastern division, trying to take what tattered remnants of the proposal we had and devise a new strategy, to at least pull something from the wreckage.

It was almost 8pm when Emily had had enough, at least until tomorrow.

"Go home Renay. Get some rest. There's no point continuing now, we'll have to rethink this through again, but I am pretty certain that if we get another shot, I'll be recommending that you lead it." Emily was an older lady, well, older to me. She was in her fifties, with soft grey hair that framed what was once a pretty face. Now, it was drawn and filled with worry lines, the reward for a lifetime of stress and corporate manoeuvrings.

Jarvis agreed with her assessment, and was soon on the phone to his family, letting them know that he would be home soon.

Family.

Oh. I had forgotten to let William know that I was working back because of the drama. I quickly pulled up my phone and tried to call him, to offer him some form of apology. But it went through to voicemail.

I took my leave and rushed through the office, I collected my things and headed for my car. It was just under an hour's drive for me from the northern reaches of Sydney to my home on the Central Coast, but that was only if the traffic was amenable.

In the car, I began the trip home, trying William's phone and the house phone numerous times. But there was no answer on either number. I sighed, it was possible that he had given up and gone out, or was working in the basement, or perhaps he was just in a snit. This wouldn't be the first time that I had forgotten to advise of my coming home late, and it was something that had caused a bit of heat in the relationship previously.

Oh don't get me wrong, my husband wasn't jealous of my job, my position or success, nor did he believe that I was or would be stepping out on him. No, the source of his annoyance was from the lack of respect, as he called it. All he wanted was for me to let him know, so that he didn't end up waiting around indefinitely for a dinner that I may not attend, or to let him know so that he didn't worry I may have had an accident. Accidents weren't uncommon on the roads that I traveled, especially at night. And if one occurred on the M1, well, that could cause hours of delay.

It was about 8:45, when I left the motorway and then just touched on 9pm when I entered Gosford where we lived. William had still not been answering my calls, and now it was me that was beginning to worry.

Our house was small, even though we could afford a larger one, this was what we wanted for now. We had been discussing moving into something larger, but we weren't sure yet where to move. Would we stay on the Central Coast, move to Sydney, perhaps out to one of the western suburbs? It depended upon what we were going to do for our careers moving forward.

William worked in Newcastle, which was an hour north of us. We had been trying to work out our plans, because we were also considering starting a family. He was turning 32 this year, and I was already 34. Time was running out, and conversations surrounding these plans had been occupying almost all of our spare time for the past couple of months. They were wearing us down, on top of the commuting that we were always doing. Our time was precious, and what we did have, we were stressing over.

I pulled into our driveway and noticed most of the lights in the house were out or dimmed. Only the bedroom seemed to be brightly lit, as I could see the bright orange hue behind the curtains. He must have gotten tired of waiting and headed to bed, probably to read or maybe watch a little TV.

As I hurried into the house, I called out.

"Will, I'm home. I'm so sorry." Hastily, I discarded my laptop bag and jacket on the lounge and moved towards the bedroom. Maybe I could make it up to him, I thought. It had been a couple of weeks since we had made love, what with the stress we were both under. I smiled to myself. Yes, I was going to rock his world, and mine.

"William?"

My heart stopped.

There, in my bed. In my house.

No.

William lay, semi-covered by the sheets. His body seemed to be slick with a sheen of sweat. His hair mattered and wet. It was clear that he was naked, as was the woman that lay there with him.

She was gorgeous, and lay on top of the sheets, draped over my husband. Deep, lustrous red hair, skin that was pale and perfectly smooth, long legs that were topped by a tight, firm bum, and two very large, very perfect breasts. Like William, she too was covered with sweat, her beautiful hair, stuck to her body with great strands that were saturated.

It was she who noticed me first, and she lewdly rolled over, exposing her smoothly shaved pussy to me, red and angry with lust.

"Hi honey," she said to me, in an exaggerated and seductive tone. "We thought you'd be back sooner, and couldn't wait."

I am sure that I must have looked like an idiot, as I stood there with my mouth open, trying to formulate words. But no sound came out, even though my jaw worked up and down like I was in a silent movie. I felt faint.

We hadn't made love in weeks. Or, was it months? My mind was now foggy. I gripped onto the door to stop from falling.

William stirred and looked over at me, a sardonic smirk upon his face.

"Hey Renay. I'd like you to meet Melody. Melody, this is my wife, Renay. Melody and I..."

I never let him finish his sentence.

"GET OUT. GET OUT NOW!" I screamed, regaining my voice, and filling it with righteous wrath and indignation. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY HOUSE YOU FUCKING ARSEHOLE! AND TAKE YOUR SLUT WITH YOU!"

My face was a stream of tears. My vision was blurred and I literally saw red. I was worried that I may have burst a blood vessel in one or both eyes, and I was seeing through blood. My heart beat so fast and heavy, that I could hear it throbbing away in my ears, and my breathing became laboured and rough.

"GET THE FUCK OUT!"

I turned and fled, even as I demanded that they leave, it was me who did.

I didn't know where I was going, or what I was going to do. But suddenly, as I reached for my car, headlights appeared, pulling into our driveway. I blinked, and cursed, they were blocking my exit. I started to scream and vent, my pain palpable. I had a vague realisation that a few outside lights from neighbouring houses were beginning to turn on, and someone was moving towards me from one of them. It was late, there were young families around, and I was clearly disturbing them and their children's sleep.

Then, before I knew it, William and his big titted whore were moving past me. They were dressed, and made for the car. I squinted against the lights, and noticed that it was William's older sister, Belle, who was driving it. She waved forlornly towards me, a sad look on her face. I had known Belle before William, indeed it was she who had introduced us. She was as good a friend as I had, and a fantastic sister-in-law. But now, here she was, as if on queue, to pick up the cheaters.

I flipped her the bird, and for good measure swore at her as well, even whilst still hurtling abuse at William and Melody. As an extra sign of my gratitude for the betrayal, I grabbed a stone from the garden bed next to me, and hurled it at the car, but my aim was poor and it disappeared into the darkness.

Then, as soon and as abruptly as my nightmare had begun, it was over. Belle pulled the car out of the driveway, and they were gone.

My neighbour was with me, it was an older lady that I knew by sight, and would wave to her when out and about, but I had no idea as to her name. She took one look at me, and then pulled me into a big and loving embrace.

"It'll be ok baby," she cooed, soothing the back of my head with her hand. "It'll be ok."

I swore. Calling William every foul name I could think of and a few that I invented on the spot. And when I could think of no other invectives to fling at my faithless spouse, I wept. I wept for the love that I had lost. I wept for the children that we wouldn't have. I wept for the wasted years. And I wept for the callousness of William's betrayal.

When I didn't get into work the next day, I received an anxious and nervous call from Emily. It was 10am, when she rang, and as there hadn't been any accidents on the road south, and no major traffic delays, she assumed that I wasn't coming in, and given the debacle with D&F and Julliette the day before, she was at her wits end.

She had barely begun to ask me if something was wrong, only just finishing the terse greeting, when I launched into unburdening my soul and my heart.

"I caught him. I caught that bastard cheating on me. They were right here, waiting for me, wanting me to see them. Oh my god, what am I going to do? They'd been fucking hoping for me to catch them. Emily, help me, oh god, please help me."

I had always said how lucky I was, and Emily knew that I thought William walked on water. Everyone knew I loved my husband. I adored him. I thought that he had felt the same. Oh what a fool I had been. What a fucking idiot.

"Not another." Her words were dejected and filled with sadness. Before Julliette's personal issues, she had been a model employee, valued, trusted and well liked. I considered myself held in similar regard. Now Julliette's performance had fallen off a cliff, and Emily was concerned mine might soon follow.

"I'm leaving now Renay. I'll be at your house soon. Don't worry about work, we'll come up with something."

I mumbled something, I'm not sure what it was, and then disconnected the call. Tossing my phone aimlessly back onto the bed. I had slept in the spare room on the fold out, not wanting to go anywhere near the location of William's depraved infidelity and cruelty.

Now, I wandered back into the bedroom, to the scene of the crime. I would need a change of clothes anyway. I looked at the bed in disgust. The sheets were messed up. My sheets, they were my sheets. Beautiful gold satin sheets that he had bought me for my last birthday. And they were the sheets that he had chosen to soil with his adulterous crime.

The tears came once more as I yelled in rage.

"FUCKING CUNT! FUCK YOU WILLIAM! FUCK YOU!"

I grabbed some clothes and in doing so I noticed, there, on top of the tall boy dresser, William's wedding ring, but it had been cut into two halves and discarded carelessly. It was a ring that I had chosen for him. We had chosen each other's rings to exchange those 6 years ago. It was a beautiful ring of yellow and rose gold. It had taken me weeks to work on the design with the jeweller, and it had been perfect. And now, it had been coldly cut in two and just cast aside, like my heart.

I lost it.

Things were thrown, smashed, broken, crushed and ruined. Anything of his that I could find, I destroyed. His clothes I hurled outside, and then doused with the full 2 litre bottle of methylated spirits from our cleaning stores, before striking a match to them. All of his clothes burned brightly, and I laughed at the flames.

His prized comic collection, his books, his horrible taste in music, the CD's and DVD's that he had collected over the years, joined the blaze. And his antique clock that was so out of place for him, but still so well loved, was thrown through the custom glass figurines that he had inherited from his grandmother, and that he so cherished.

I was still on my rampage when Emily arrived and cautiously, meekly, looked within at the utter carnage and destruction that I had called down.

"Renay, please, don't do this. Let's go somewhere quiet, away from here, and talk." She held out a tentative hand towards me, beckoning me, pleading with me. Perhaps there was murder in my eyes, for there was fear in hers.

Finally, my ruinous onslaught over, I nodded and we left.

We spoke for the rest of the day. She was a great listener, empathetic and genuine. And she was wise, well, in hindsight I believe she was. At the time, I don't think I heard much of what she said, though the feeling that her words conveyed were ones of love, compassion and care. She was trying to protect me. They had failed Julliette, they weren't going to make the same mistake with me, at least I believe that is how she phrased it.

I didn't try to contact my soon to be ex-husband, but nor did I hear from William. I didn't hear from Belle. I didn't hear from any of that traitorous family. They closed ranks around him, and well they might, for if I had my way, I'd have killed him horribly and claimed I was still owed reparations.

I called my mother the next day, after a restless night's sleep. The house was a warzone or natural disaster area, and I lived among the wreckage and debris. My mother could scarcely believe it. William had been like a son to her and my father before his passing. She had always trusted William to keep me safe, to protect me, to care for me. And here he was, cutting my heart out and laughing at me whilst he did it.

I could barely speak with my mum, the call was long, but not much was said, other than "Oh god," and "help me," and "why?"

My mum said she would travel up from Wollongong that day, and that she would stay with me until I no longer needed her. My younger sister often used her to babysit her toddlers, something that my mother was only too happy to do since my father's death, but now she was going to be there for me.

I cried tears of joy. The first time that I had been happy since finding them in bed. My mother and I had a great relationship. After William, she was whom I trusted most. And now, with William's treachery, mum was the only one I could put my faith in.

Time slowly rolled along. My mother stayed with me for over a month. I had a week off work, at the least, but took a further 2 weeks rec leave and 1 week of sick leave to spend the time with her. We cleaned the house, removing all traces of William in the process, and simply existed.

Still there had been no words from William. Still none from his family. My anger, my ire rose daily. How could that bastard do that to me? I had trusted him implicitly, I had loved him thoroughly. And he had spit me out with utter disregard, almost as though he hated me. Finally, my mother had had enough, and she called Monica, William's mother, to find out what was going on. My marriage was over, of that there was no doubt, but there were financial things that needed to be determined. The house for one. William's car was still in the garage, though now it had a golf club embedded in the windscreen and thousands of dents over its pitted and scarred paintwork.

I couldn't hear much of the conversation, mum had it behind a closed door for fear of upsetting me. But eventually, she returned, an odd look upon her face.

"He said to sell the house or keep it, apparently he's already organised to cease claim upon it. And he's taken some of the money, Monica thinks about 25%, and left the rest to you. Seems he wants to be rid of you......"

I began to swear again. Just who did that wanker think he was? Why did he hate me so much?

"There's more to this than we know," my mother continued. "Monica sounds devastated."

"Good," I spat.

"I don't mean about the marriage, though I know she's upset about that, all she said, and she said it over and over was, 'I'm sorry Diedre, so sorry. Nobody wants this. Tell Renay that we're sorry. Tell her that there is still love for her." She shrugged, perplexed. "It was a very weird conversation."

My mother looked downcast as she continued. "Monica advised that you'll have any legal documentation by the end of the week, and she asked me to tell you to live a good life." There were tears in my mother's eyes. She had gotten on very well with Monica, ever since my dad died, their friendship only seemed to get stronger, and now this.

"I don't think any of William's family condone or support his actions, but he is their son and brother. I know it's a longshot Renay, but if there was a chance, even a minor one, is this marriage something you can or would repair?"

She had hope in her eyes, but I quickly dashed it upon the sharp, jagged rocks of my new reality.

"I hope the fucking prick dies."

Sure enough, the documentation and legal papers came through over the next week as William's mother said they would. The house was sold, William's car was sold. Anything of his that was left was sold. The remaining funds were moved to another account that William had no possible way of accessing. And life rolled on, painful though it was.

Nine months after finding William in bed with the whore, I had begun to date again. It was hard at first, I had trust issues, serious trust issues. But my friends were there to rally around me. My healing was their focus, and they were doing the best that they could to facilitate that. Nobody had heard from or even seen William. And none of us spoke about him, his name was struck from the records and wiped clean from existence. I still had 3 months to wait until I could divorce him though, and that was the only thing about him that I now worried about.

Two further months along, I went out with Travis for the first time. He was a tall, good looking and well spoken engineer. Where William was serious, Travis was fun loving. Where William was pretty, Travis was ruggedly handsome. I began to see a new future, even though I took it slowly. My friends were there to make sure my heart, mending slowly as it was, would not be treated so horribly again. We weren't intimate until our seventh date, the first time I had been with a man since William. It was beautiful and caring and loving. Travis treated me like a princess made of porcelain, his care for me was evident, so much so that I don't even think he orgasmed during our time together, he only wanted release and pleasure for me.

I cried in his arms, tears of joy. Perhaps I could find new love. I prayed I could find new love.

As the twelve month mark was passed, my solicitor commenced the divorce proceedings, and like that, it was done. I still hadn't heard a single word, not one. William had torn my heart out, stomped it into the dust, and apparently, just disappeared. He cared so little for me, that I didn't exist to him, nor he to me it seemed. I did receive a card and apology from Belle though, and it went right into the garbage, covered in the leftover lasagna that I had forgotten about in the fridge for over a week.

The letter from Belle had kindled more anger in me. She was my best friend, and now, she no longer existed to me either. That was the first I had heard from her, and it was devastating to remember what else had been lost in the murder of my marriage.