Thanks to WAA01 and Killerarmyguy for the edits.
******
My name is Nathan Hal; at the age of thirty-seven, I thought my life would be on the path I had set out, but that wasn't meant to be when I came home one day early from work (where I'm a rising bank manager for a well-known bank so I won't be giving their name), given it was our anniversary. How stupid I was. I never fucking saw the signs until it was right before my very eyes as my now ex-wife and her then boy toy intertwined on my fucking bed! I will never utter her name again, so let's call her 'Bitch'! The whore has to have a name right and the shoe fits. The nerve of the cunt to tell me to get out so they could finish! Well, I got out alright, right to a fucking motel. Fuck ever sleeping in that bed again or that house; there was no telling how many men she's been fucking behind by back.
A little about our former marriage before I go on. We married very young; that is what two stupid kids do when they're supposedly in love. I knew I loved her at that point in time; now, I wonder if she ever loved me in the first place. Anyway, a year into the marriage, our daughter was born, then two years after that, our son. I know what you're thinking. They aren't mine, given her whoring ways. But hate to burst your bubble they are, had them tested the week after I left their mother.
As I was saying, there I was in my motel room, paid cash. Didn't want that Bitch to know where I was if she looked online at the charge on our shared card. Well, it was ours until tomorrow when I paid the damn thing off and canceled it. I couldn't do much at the moment with my finances given the late hour of the day. So I knew I had to move fast once the sun came up tomorrow to protect what I had worked my ass off for. I wasn't letting her get one damn cent that I didn't have to give in the divorce settlement. Fuck forgiveness! I wanted the bitch to burn! So there I was, making call after call and internet searches for the best divorce lawyer in the city. Money wasn't a problem, I made six figures, and with a promotion looming, I could easily absorb the hit to my account. Plus, being in the banking industry, I knew all the loopholes to keep the courts from laying a finger on my money, yet that would have to wait till tomorrow when I went into the office if I went in. I was contemplating on heading home and packing my belongings while she was at work. Now whether or not the Bitch would notice my things gone, I didn't fucking care!
I know the Bitch tried calling me repeatedly, but I never answered. Then the texts started to come in, telling me I could come home now. That she's cleaned up, and it meant nothing. That this didn't have to mean anything if I didn't make a fuss out of it. Did the Bitch not fucking know me?! Then it got to begging when the hour struck six that night, and I knew the kids would be home inquiring about me, no doubt seeing how I'm usually home by then. Wondering when I was going to come home so we could go out to dinner for our anniversary. At this, I suspected the Bitch had lost her damn mind! Did she really think I'd want to celebrate our wedding anniversary after finding her fucking another man in my bed! She really has to be fucking stupid! That was when my daughter called, I did hate lying to her, but I wasn't going home not that night or ever again unless it was to pack my belongings.
"Hi, honey," I answered after steeling myself.
"
Dad? Where are you, Mom's freaking out
?!"
"
Good
!" I thought. This meant either she couldn't find me or that she was worried I already told the kids about what a slut she was. Both were plausible. "Sorry, baby, I had to go on a business trip at very short notice. But don't worry, I'm not alone; you remember Ms. Tyler?"
"
Yeah, she was a nice lady, but why are you on a business trip with Ms. Tyler
?" An evil grin spread across my lips at the sound of the Bitch's 'What!' that I could hear over the line. I knew the Bitch hated her guts. I never knew why; Kris, her first name, was a very kind woman and a lesbian, so I don't know why the Bitch always felt threatened by her. Now that I think about it, maybe she was afraid someone would sweep me off my feet and steal me away from the slut. As I thought on that, I wish someone had, then I wouldn't have wasted seventeen years on the cunt.
"Oh, the presenter for the conference which I wasn't going to since today is such a big day," my sarcasm was clear not that my daughter picked up on it, I said it in case the Bitch was listening in, "came down with food poisoning and had to drop out, so being one of the few managers who know the material my boss asked if I would fill in, and Ms. Tyler was already going so we're traveling together."
"
But when will you be home
?"
"I don't know, maybe a week, Ms. Tyler wants to explore the city while we're there so..." Just then, I heard the phone being snatched from my daughter's hand.
"
Nat, you come home right this instance
?!"
"It's Nathan or Mr. Hal to you, cunt!" I could hear she was taken aback by the tone of my voice. "You lost all rights to that name when I found you fucking another man on my god damn bed!"
"
Nat... Nathan, I know you're upset; we can work this out. It meant nothing
?!"
"It means something to me, you stupid bitch!"
"
Fine! If you want to act like a hurt little child and not talk about this like reasonable adults, go right ahead. If you want to stay away, fine! But know this, I am going to be fucking every man I can from now on in this house
!"
"Go right ahead, Bitch, you're dead to me now anyway
,"
I heard her gasp as I cut the line.
And so it went downhill fast from there, especially after she came home the next day to find the house empty of anything that belonged to me. I had movers in to pack everything in a few hours so I wouldn't have to ever return to that house. I had it stored in a storage unit across town, paid in cash for three months until I could find an apartment in the city. My marriage might be over, but I wasn't about to disappear on my kids. I had an appointment with a lawyer the day after I moved out. I also had our shared bank account closed and half the money transferred to one set up in her name and moved what cash I wanted to keep out of the court's greedy hands offshore where she could never touch a cent of it; I was so amused. I made a big spectacle of hammering that worthless gold band into nothing but junk in front of everyone at work before tossing the hunk of metal away. If that didn't start rumors, I don't know what would. So after talking to my lawyer, she had a P.I. following the Bitch's movements; I don't know why but whatever. Don't really care; I simply wanted that cheating cunt gone!
However, things really, I mean, really blew up the moment the Bitch was served! I wish I could have been there! I bet the look on that cunt's face was priceless! I have to admit the lawyer's P.I. did get some very juicy tidbits, and I so was a vindictive bastard. Hey, if you fuck a married woman, expect fucking consequences. From what I heard, later on, none of those men that couldn't keep their dicks in their pants made it out with not a penny to their names. Especially the Bitch's boss! I heard his wife took him for everything, a whole twenty million! I rolled on the floor laughing hysterically when I heard that. It seemed his wife was one smart cookie and had a prenup with an infidelity clause in it.
Nonetheless, I missed my kids. The Bitch was messing with my court-appointed visitation days, which my lawyer handled. I didn't need to be there, but I heard the judge told her if she heard about one more missed visitation, she would throw the Bitch into the lockup for defying a court order. The first visitation or any others after that did not go as well as I hoped. My kids blamed me for breaking up our family. I told them I wasn't the one that broke us up. That was their mother, not going into too much detail, yet I did explain to them that I had walked in on their mother with another man in our bed that was why I couldn't be with their mother. Then the day my world came crashing down around me happened.
"Dad, do we have to keep doing this?" my sixteen-year-old daughter, at the time, asked.