Death of a Marriage

This is my first story, here. Don't go easy on me.

~~~~~~~~~

"Welcome home."

Samantha Clark's heart almost leapt into her throat when she unlocked the door and entered the dark expanse of her home. Quickly flicking on the lights, she turned to the source of the voice; her husband.

"Robert! Baby, you almost gave me a heart attack!" A smile found its way on her face. "I didn't know you were supposed to be back tonight. You surprised me."

"Did you like my surprise, though?" He asked with a smile as he walked towards his wife, with a wine glass in each hand.

Samantha momentarily forgot about the uproar that had taken place at work today.

Now, she couldn't think of anything except for the blue eyes of her husband as they focused on her and had successfully captured her own gaze. Oh, how she loved and relished in the fact that she had such a loving husband and knew she'd be the only recipient of that look. "What do you think!" She replied with a smile of her own as she graciously accepted the wine and gave a light kiss to his lips.

But, something seemed off about her Robert. He seemed...cold.

He smiled; it didn't match with the look in his eyes. Turning away from her, he whispered, "Then, you're gonna love this.", more to himself, than to her.

Without another word, he walked away and sat on the loveseat. He beckoned her to come and sit with him.

Samantha hesitantly walked to him and sat down. "Honey, is some-"

"How are you holding up?" He calmly cut in. His eyes were affixed to the table, as he took a sip of the wine. "I heard that John Richards was killed last night. Poor guy." He voice did not betray any emotion. But, it wasn't exactly sympathetic, either.

Samantha winced internally. She did not know if it was due to the topic or due to the tone that her husband used. She looked away for a moment. "T-the whole firm is in chaos! Everyone is shocked out of their minds! No one can wrap their head around what's happened, with John suddenly being gunned down, out of the blue. The police don't have many clues yet, but, say that it it's a crime of passion."

This time, Robert looked at her with eyes that seemed alien to her. "But, how are

you

holding up? Surely, you must be hurting a

lot

more?" He asked in an even voice. His eyes watched as countless emotions passed through her own eyes. Fear, dread, surprise and strangely, rage.

She turned to look at him. "H-honey... What are you..." Her mouth suddenly seemed dry.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I know it's a touchy subject...with your lover being gunned down in some seedy motel." He said in a voice that sounded apologetic to a certain degree. This surprised even him, knowing just how detached he was.

"Robert!" His wife of seven years leapt to her feet. "How could you even insinuate that!? How could you say I've been sneaking behind your back!" She almost screamed at him.

As she had stood up, she forgot about the wine glass in her hand. Much of which, had spilled on her suit and the carpet.

Robert Clark chuckled lightly. It was devoid of any humour. "Honey." He looked straight in her eyes, studying the fear hidden underneath that expression false rage at his accusing statements. "So, you weren't 'sneaking behind my back'?" He abruptly raised his open hand in a halting motion. "Here." Pulling out a folder from his side of the loveseat, he handed it to her.

He did not feel any joy as he watched his wife shakily grab the folder. He did not feel any glee as he watched the colour drain from her face as she took one look at the top photo that displayed his wife in a

very

compromising position with John Richards; a partner in the law firm she worked at. He did not relish in the hollow, haunted look on her face as her arms dropped limply beside her, and as she dropped both, the pictures and her glass of wine.

He did, however, enjoy his wine and calmly took another sip.

Shaken, Samantha gingerly sat down, eyes wide and unfocused.

"Earth to wifey! Earth to wifey!" Rob called out with a small grin, in spite of himself. Yet again, he still was amazed by how detached he seemed.

His wife slowly turned to look at him, "Honey... It meant nothing..." Her voice cracked as she tried to assure her husband. She thought of dismissing it as a 'one time thing', but pushed that idea away. The photos had been taken quite a while ago, judging by her having longer hair in it; months ago, when she had long hair. The room was her and John's usual place for some fun, when they felt like having some fun, at their usual motel. Then, another stray thought hit her; just how long had Rob known about the affair? And, could he have kill-

"Don't even go there." Her husband cut her line of thought off. "I'm not the one who killed your lover; I wasn't even in town, remember?" He asked, as if he'd read her mind.

Robert was careful enough to not let a smirk show on his face. "Now, back to the topic at hand. Still think just how I could say you're sneaking behind my back?" His voice was cold, sharp and had only a hint of anger.

"Honey. Believe me, it meant nothing." She pleaded. Her eyes was begging, hopeful he'd understand. "I... I did it for you! For us!" She scooted closer to him and held his hands with her. "Because of that, I made partner so soon. Now, we have everything we could want. This house. The money. The status. Everything." Her tone became more confident with every word. She was sure that Rob would understand her efforts and they could put this behind them.

"Honey." Robert spat, as if the word disgusted his entire being. Removing his hands from her grasp, he spoke. "It's something when you whore yourself out for some damn stupid partnership. It's something when you neglect your husband; the man who loved you the most, in favour of some womaniser who simply thinks of you as a hole to stick his cock into. It's something you disregard all your marriage vows and keep seeing another man behind your husband's back for more than a couple of years and then, come back home every night, wishing to be loved, after getting fucked like an animal by your lover."

By this time, Robert had stood up and turned away from his wife. He did not want to Samantha to see the look of anguish, the pain in his eye, even if his voice broke a bit. He internally cursed himself for failing at not being in control of his own emotions. This was a scenario, he'd played in his mind plenty of times, but, now that he was actually doing it, his performance was not so stellar. "Apparently, 'nothing' means a lot more in your dictionary. A lot more than our marriage." He said as he turned to look at her and a pair of teary, hazel eyes looked at him.

Words escaped his wife. The hurt in her husband's voice was clear to her, even if he had turned to look away from her. His words hurt her deeply. She just looked at him with tears in her eyes and a desperate, pleading look. "Robert... Plea-

"Stop, Samantha." He said sharply. His eyes were glacial pools. "I'll listen to you after I've said my share. Until then, just hear me out." He handed her his handkerchief.

She nodded desperately, gratefully accepting the piece of cloth and wiping the tears away from her eyes.

He plopped back down on his seat, head raised and eyes staring at the ceiling. "Until a few months ago, I considered myself to be the happiest man alive, thinking I had the love of my life with me." He smiled faintly, reminiscing old times. Then, his expression soured, "But, that was all a damn illusion." He hissed bitterly, eyes staring emptily at the ceiling . "It wasn't long before I started noticing the changes. How my loving wife started enjoying 'work' more than her life at home." He sighed. "At first, I didn't suspect anything, just thought about how driven you were and how desperately you wanted to make partner." He looked at her from the corner of his eyes and with a bitter smile. "I just didn't know

how

desperately."

Samantha winced. She really wanted to say something, to tell him she only loved him. But, she couldn't.

Robert continued, "I didn't find out about it until your firm's Christmas party, last year, when you were announced as the newest partner...and what a way it was!" He chuckled humourlessly. "Imagine, finding your wife and her lover whispering giddily in one of the stalls in the men's bathroom about giving and receiving 'celebratory blowjob' and about how 'hubby won't be getting any tonight'." He slouched in his seat. "I almost didn't believe it was you, even when he called you by your name." His voice cracked and he had to stop for a few seconds, to control some of the rage than was seeping out of his barriers.

"But, I couldn't deny it. Not after all the signs that had been long present in front of me; I was just too blind to see them." Robert said casually. Deep breathing really does help, he thought. "I guess, I trusted the woman I married, too much...and that was my undoing."

Samantha shook her head; tears in her eyes and started to speak, but, Rob cut her off.

"At least, that's what I thought at the start." He sighed. "After a few therapy sessions, I realised I wasn't the one to blame; I was just doing what a good husband did and support his wife with utmost love and faith. It wasn't my fault that our wedding vows meant so little to my dear wife." He finished with a shrug.

His wife looked down and tears dripped from her eyes, on the carpet.

"After that night, I decided to follow through two different steps of action. Firstly, I hired an investigator to collect all and any evidence of your infidelity and with any number of men -What? How would I have known it was only John-." He dismissed her denying, baffled look. "The second was to try to rekindle our passion; to make to fall in love with me again." He picked up his wine glass and took yet another sip. "Too bad, after trying and failing to make you love me again, I realised that our marriage was long over and any of our love was dead. The videos from the P. I. only solidified the fact." He snorted. His eyes were suddenly lit with rage as is stared into emptiness, remembering those God awful words he'd heard his wife and her lover utter in those tapes.

"You see, hon." His face had a smile that did not match the hurt in his eyes. "There's only so much a man can hear his wife and her lover speak about her husband; the clueless cuckold, before he breaks and loses all hope he has for their sham of a marriage. No matter how false or little the hope might have been."

"Honey, plea-"

"Shut up, honey. I'm speaking."

The cold in his voice stopped her. He turned to look at her with a mixture of regret, disgust and rage in his eye, but, his smile stayed in place. It was a sad smile.

Her own face was a portrait of anguish and helplessness.

"After I watched your tapes and heard your pillow talk with your lover, I was sure that our marriage was long over; I just realised it too late." He started. "You'd rebuffed all my subtle efforts to rebuild our marriage, in favour of spending more time with that son of a bitch, John." He spat out. "I tried to be a bit dominant without alerting you too much, but, even that failed. All you'd tell me was that how much 'work' you had. Yeah, some work, judging your performance on those tapes." He laughed without mirth. "But, after watching the third or so tape, I just couldn't... I didn't have the fight in me anymore..."

"All this was after you became partner. So, don't give me that 'I did it for us' crap.

It was...quite an experience, hearing your lover say degrading and revolting things about me and you agreeing to his every word." His fists balled tightly, shook in his lap. "Pardon me, I can't go into much detail; even now, I can't fully control my rage as I remember those things. But, hey. It's actually better than before!" Rob grinned.

"Thus, I returned to therapy. Blaming myself again, wallowing in self-pity and whatnot, it took me time to get back on my feet.

I wanted to leave you, then. But, I did not and could not. Not until I had destroyed every bit of love that I had felt for you, so I could start a new life without even your thoughts in it." He smiled. "...and what better way to have done that, than spend it with you; the so-called love of my life." He chuckled. "I know it sounds strange, but, it really helped. As I saw you every day and night, ignoring your husband and carrying on with your lover, I accepted that fact that we were just two strangers living together...and my love for you, slowly but steadily, died.

No longer I felt the amount of anger or hurt or betrayal that I usually felt; Oh, make no mistake, I still feel those, as only psychopaths can completely and successfully block those out. But, I was a different man after making peace with myself." He smiled in nostalgia. "It just took some time; eight months, to be exact."

It hit his wife, at that moment. Hurt at his words, she looked into Robert's eyes and saw nothing but, a sea of calm that had replaced the hurt in them. Those were the very same eyes that she had been seeing since the last few months and it was only now, she took note of them. Those eyes were calm, but seemed so detached; so distant. It was as if she was staring into the eyes of some stranger, rather than her husband of seven years. They terrified her.

Why only did she notice this now...

Then, she remembered the sex. She remembered how loving sex was with her husband, until a few months ago. Before, it had it gentle, caring and full of love. Now, it was devoid of any love, any passion; almost no kissing and caressing. She realised now, it seemed that her husband had been going through motions, when they'd have sex. It still felt like lovemaking with her husband and not the raw fucking that she'd experience with her lover, but, at the same time, it seemed...

different.

Was she so blinded by her lust for John, she didn't even notice the change in her husband?

Tears started to gather around her eyes, afresh, as she realised that being the case.

"I'd still smile and act normally around you, but, it was just that; acting." He said plainly. "I didn't stop having sex with you, even though I was afraid of catching anything swimming inside of you. Although, I did minimise it to some extent. Thankfully for me, you didn't want to have kids yet and always had insisted I wear a condom, rather than have you go on pill because of your headaches." His eyes bore holes in the photo frame sitting on the cabinet by the opposite wall; It was their wedding photo. "But, you'd let that bastard go bareback on you every time." His voice was low and instead of having an angry undertone, it sounded detached.

His wife wanted to just hug him tightly and never let go; beg for his forgiveness and try to put everything behind them.

He continued, "No longer was I repulsed by you when we were having sex...and no longer did I feel any love towards you while doing it. You were just some whore to keep me company and warm my bed, then."

His cold words hurt her deeply and she tried to look at him with anguish clear on her face. But, he would just stare ahead; his gaze on the photo frame.

"I knew that if I'd stopped having sex with you because of the disgust and betrayal I felt due to your actions, I'd be accepting defeat and would forever be riddled with those feeling, without any reprieve.

So, I knew what had to be done, here. I still had sex with you and every time we did it, my love for you died bit by bit, until nothing was left." He let a small bittersweet smile come on his lips. The wedding photo didn't remind him of the beautiful dreams he had for their marriage, anymore. It didn't remind him of his wife's cheating and blatant disregard for their vows. It only told him of what wouldn't be; what he had dreamt of with open eyes, but, couldn't have.

"...and that brings me to the next part." Robert turned to look at her with his eyes that reflected sadness and a small smile. They hurt her more than his cold rage and words. "I'll be leaving, now. I have a plane to catch for Tokyo. But, if you have anything to say, go ahead. I can, at least, give you

that.

"

"Please, honey... Please... Don't do that to me...! To us...!" His wife sobbed. Her cheeks were coloured and her eyes were pleading. "Please, forgive me. I... I only did that for you... for us." She gripped his hands lightly; knowing that if she let him go, it would be forever. "I know I made some mistakes... and I don't intend to make them again! But, please... Just find it in your heart to forgive me. I... I'm not asking for your immediate forgiveness; take as long as you want! But, just don't leave me!"

Robert frowned. He still couldn't see her hurt without feeling some of it himself. There was a time when he would move heaven and earth before let a single drop of tear show in his wife's eyes. But, that time has long gone. "Samantha." He started in a calm voice. "In any other circumstances, I'd have told you that I didn't this to us;

You

did it. I'd have told you that you didn't deserve my forgiveness. But, I won't." He smiled sadly. "I will, though, say that you should ask for the forgiveness of the late Mr. Richard's wife, who lost her husband because of your actions. After all, his three innocent kids lost their father and an unsuspecting wife lost her husband...only because some people couldn't keep it in their pants." It was the only thing that had left a bad taste in his mouth; the thought that three innocent kids has lost their father in such a way...and he was partly at fault for that.

He really wanted to say, "Had you not strayed, I wouldn't have needed to record your and every other wife's extramarital actions with that serial womaniser. Had you not pushed my buttons, I wouldn't have needed to forward a copy of each tape to the each of the concerned husbands; one of whom has probably killed your lover." But he didn't. He didn't want to be late for his flight. It was a miracle that none of the other wives or their husbands had caught anything. But, then again, all the other flings had been brief and lasted about two or three meetings at most; only his own wife seemed to be the recurring star. Rob had kindly asked the P. I. not to film his wife after her third performance; he had money to burn, but, he wasn't a masochist. Three were more than enough.

Rob intentionally left out that he'd -anonymously- sent a copy of each tape; four, in total, to Mrs. John Richards and he could probably guess what a disastrous route his wife's career was headed to. He really did not need a hysterical Samantha on him, right now. He had to hurry; if Mrs. Richards had already given the police, the tapes, then they'd be at his front door -along with the other...wronged husbands- any moment...and he really did not want to miss his flight. Yes, leaving the country would raise more than a few accusing eyebrows given just exactly

how

he was involved, but, he had more than enough alibi to prove he actually wasn't even in town when the murder took place.

Samantha was openly bawling at this point and the implications of her husband's words about Mrs. Richard did not register with her.

"As for you doing this 'for us'..." Her husband started, while looking at her with a piteous look. "I can only ask if you take me for being

that

dumb..." He sighed. "No, Sam. You were not doing it for us and definitely, not for me. It was for your own depraved, demented and disgusting desire; I've seen the tapes, and while, you didn't actively encourage him, you didn't stop him from demeaning me, every chance he got. Hell, you giggled like a fucking schoolgirl at most of those!" He had to keep his voice from rising. Then, he decided not to and he let the floodgates open. "You were desperate to make partner! You wanted more money! You wanted this big, unnecessary house for just the two of us! You were desperate to fit into with the high and powerful! I was fine with what I was earning even if it wasn't as much as you! I was fine in our old neighbourhood! With our old friends! In our old house! But, don't forget, you only became successful because I was so supportive of you! Not to mention, I declined that high paying promotion with transfer to France only because you wanted to stay here, in your fucking law firm and make it to partner here! I put our fucking sham of a marriage ahead of my career! Just for you!" His short outburst had left him panting and enraged. Instantly, Robert cursed himself for losing control. This was something he wanted to avoid at all cost, but, he failed at that. He shrugged. Shit happens. "Anyways, I have a flight to board." With that, he stood up, ignoring his crying wife and climbed the flight of stairs to go to his bedroom.

Their

bedroom.