This is the fourth in a series. BHA (Betrayed Husbands Anonymous) is a fanciful look at a means for husbands without the skill or will to effect revenge on a cheating spouse. The notion that a bunch of men could gather, plot, and execute revenge in secrecy is the stuff of fantasy. I pointed out in an earlier version, a quote from Benjamin Franklin, "Three can keep a secret, if two are dead."
So, I ask you to suspend your disbelief - in this universe, characters do not share such secrets.
Originally, I planned to introduce a new story and finish the prior story in each chapter of BHA. This might have been a good plan, if I actually posted a chapter, now and then. Since I have not, the stories will be standalone from now on.
I like the notion of men, who are otherwise without the means or will to execute their own thoughts on the punishment for the betrayers, have a means to do so. BHA 3 showed that revenge can turn out to be far more extreme than the husband would have ever considered. Having explored that outcome, expect the stores in this series to be more tempered.
This story starts with a man just wanting to get on with his life and shows his progression. The characters Jim and Bridget are in the first three chapters; I plan to wrap up their story in a subsequent chapter. As stated, this story stands alone, there is an early reference to a previous chapter, but no need to read it, unless the mood strikes you.
No new ground here in the betrayal, no BTB or reconciliation. The growth by the betrayed is the focus.
Any sex in this tale is between people eighteen and older and it is not described in the story (sorry).
As always, thank you for reading my stories and I appreciate your comments.
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My name is Xzander Dalton (I know, my dad was afraid without the "z" people wouldn't pronounce my name right. Why he didn't think of something simpler, like Bob, never occurred to him. Why my mother, who raised me by herself, kept his choice of names is a bigger mystery.) Speaking of Bob if you read BHA2, I introduced myself, using that name.
I was one of the popular guys in high school. Not a sports star but I did play on the varsity football and basketball teams, becoming a football starter by my senior year.
I was a good student, almost straight As. Since my dad ran off, just before I was born. I was going to need an academic scholarship to go to college. My grades were what they needed to be, but I never got the opportunity.
Willow Gifford was one of the prettiest girls in my class, though she was socially awkward. Willow lived with her grandparents. Her parents died in a plane accident when she was six. Her grandparents were watching her while her parents were on their first vacation since marrying. Though they were nearly sixty years Willow's senior, there was no one else to raise her so, they became parents, again.
She was not allowed to date until she was sixteen. That's a joke, she had two supervised dates that year. Consequently, she was a junior before she had any real interest from boys. Her first suitor was - me. Her grandparents approved of me, and we were an item all that year and into our senior year.
In early December of our senior year our football team was playing for the city championship. I was a receiver on offense and a second-string defensive back. The score was 35-33 in the fourth quarter. We held a slim lead, but they had the ball and were moving down the field. Coach told me they were beating the weak-side corner frequently. He put me in - with the game on the line.
The other coach must have seen the switch and tried to light me up on the first play. The receiver on my side faked a cut to the middle of the field and streaked up the side-line. I anticipated the double move and did not honor the fake, at all. If they'd just thrown a simple pass to the middle of the field, they'd have had a huge gain. Instead, I was always at least a step ahead of the receiver and when the pass arrived, he made the mistake of trying to jump and get it.
It fell right into my arms; the receiver's leap was a complete whiff. I returned the ball toward the center of the field, then ran for all I had to the sideline and returned the interception for a touchdown and a nine-point lead with just more than a minute remaining. I was a hero.
Willow and I went out after the game and our excitement led to the loss of our virginities, our marriage, and our first daughter, Michelle.
At first, my mother was crushed. She told me she had such high hopes for me. I could go far in life if I had a college degree. I talked back to her for the first time in my life. I told her that she, of all people, should know I owed Willow and our child-to-be. I would go far in life as a devoted husband and father. Mom broke down and cried, she told me I was right. I was the man she had hoped my father would have been.
Oddly, Willow's grandparents were relieved. They were nearing eighty and not in the best of health, they liked me a lot and I swore to both of them Willow would always be safe with me. Whatever fear they had of us getting married too young was outweighed by their dwindling abilities to look after a young adult.
As for Willow and me, we were young, in love, and didn't care at all. I got a job after school, stocking shelves at Barton's Grocery. It became full-time at graduation. The pay was minimum wage, but I worked at least 10 hours of overtime weekly. Mr. Barton took a liking to me and got me health insurance on the company plan. I repaid him by working even harder.
My goal was to see my family had a better chance in life than I had. I started a college fund for Michelle the day she was born. Three-and-a-half years later I did the same for my son, Josh, and fifteen months later, for our baby, Elizabeth. I was raised without a father, and I swore my family would have a better life. I became the family hero; mother's love and Willow's grandparents' admiration grew from my commitment. It became an obsession to give Willow everything she needed.
When Lizzie was six, Willow decided she wanted to work. She was thirty and had no particular skills. She found a job she really liked, as a receptionist in a store-front set of offices. There were six different businesses which shared two secretaries and one receptionist.
I told Willow the money she made was for her. It tickled me, a second wage-earner, in an entry level job, adds almost nothing to family income. Payments on a new car, new clothes, a Starbucks visit in the morning, lunch here and there, and everything earned is gone. We were careful to make sure we had enough withholding of her earnings, so our increased taxes didn't come out of my earnings.
Our life together was born in one passionate exchange, but it was a good life. Our sex life was like marrieds with children - regular (as in ordinary), not often. Willow was sometimes reluctant. I presumed that came from her first time resulting in a pregnancy. But, neither of us regretted a moment of our lives. (I found out later that Willow's lack of regret was because she supplemented her life, outside our marriage.)
I had devoted myself to assuring the security and happiness of my family. I would not be my father. When I had been at the store sixteen years, Mr. Barton sold it to a large chain. He moved me to manager before he turned over the reins to the new owners. They would have none of it. I was not a college graduate and despite having great abilities, skills, and drive, they reduced me to assistant manager.
Work harder, train college graduates to be store managers, and
maybe
one day it will be your turn. I put my head down and worked harder.
When Willow announced her desire to divorce, I was devastated. Devastated doesn't really describe it. I had spent my life trying to be a model husband and father and she told me I was never around.
She was right, in a sense - I was never around. I was never around because I
was
there for her. I failed to communicate to her that my absence was about her. It was my biggest failure.
She wanted the house, custody, maintenance, child support - and I agreed to everything. I also made sure I maintained my contributions to the college funds. I could still be the father I'd always been, just not from the same house.
I had made a commitment to myself, at age 18 - a mistake would not limit me, my life, or my family. Willow moved on but I could still honor my commitment. Life has disappointments, but I would endure.
I put my nose down and worked even harder. The new management could see they had a great thing going. I knew the business and helped educated people learn it, quickly. They may not have been willing to promote me, but I was paid very well, both salary and bonus. They were doing their part to help me and my commitment.
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I agreed to participate in Betrayed Husbands because I had nothing to lose. I didn't want or need revenge. I needed to get on with my life. I worked so hard not to be my dad and it turns out I wasn't much better. How was I supposed to live with that?
I made my pitch at a BHA meeting. All I asked for was help knowing what to do to get on with my life. Afterwards, I was surprised, several guys told me to man-up and quit being such a wimp. That made no sense to me.
"I set a course for myself. It was honorable. I devoted myself to it. Yet, it led to my being alone, I want to understand why." My BHA sponsor said he wanted to meet me for drinks, to discuss how he might help. We set it up.
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I walked into this bar I didn't know. I looked around and saw my sponsor. Holy shit! He is with a woman I know. (Where from? What is her name? Oh! Bridget! She worked for the construction company that did the addition to the store.)
I walked up to them. "Hi, Bridget, I am surprised to see you."
"I know, forgive me, Zan. You know Jim, though he introduced himself by some other name."
We shook, he said, "Hi, Jim Anderson. You'll see why Bridget is here. I'm sure you will approve."
She had a sincere expression and she started right in, "Zan, for the longest time, Jim told me nothing about BHA. I knew he was doing something and keeping it a secret. We had it out and I told him if we were the long-term couple we both want to be we could have no secrets."
"I get that, I don't think I'm upset..."
She interrupted me, which was okay, it seemed they were more on edge about this than I was. "No, it's important for me to explain, you were promised anonymity. So, he started telling me about Bob, manager of a local store. Well, he didn't get too far, and I said, 'that's Zan Dalton.' He didn't tell me who you are - I guessed."
I started to talk again, and she held her hand palm toward me, so I waited.
She continued, "I was shocked. No one was ever a better husband or father. I don't think I ever heard you talk of anything other than your wife and children."
I had to interject, "But I let them all down. I swore to myself I would never be like my father. Turns out I am just like him."
Bridget got this look like I had just offended her. She went on a tirade, "When your wife cheats on you and later divorces you so she can marry her lover, that is
her
betrayal. Her betrayal is on her! It has nothing to do with you. Nothing.
Nothing. How
does that make you like your father?"
I straightened and started to answer. Apparently, her question had been rhetorical, she was not done yet. "Zan, your father left before you were born. You are totally different. There aren't two dads in a hundred who did more for their children. How on earth can you be so screwed up as to think you are 1% at fault, let alone like a total shit who deserted his family?"
I had to smile, I have never been berated like that in my life - and she did the berating to praise me. "What troubles me, my wife had an affair, for years. She says I didn't notice because I was never there. She was right. She needed me and I was not there for her."
That Bridget was angry, she left no doubt. "Let me see if I have this straight, your father ran off. Your mother could barely support you. You got a girl pregnant and swore you would not be like your father. So, you went to work, maybe eighty hours a week starting at the age of 18 or 19. That about right?"
"Sure, more or less."
She got quiet, "Zan, don't you think it was your wife who abandoned you?"
