I was cleaning out my computer the other day and found this story. I only vaguely remember writing. I didn't publish it because I didn't think it was very good. Now, I'm still not enamored with it. However, what is it they say? Waste not want not. So, I decided to publish it.
The is not a traditional BTB story, nor is it a RAAC one. There is no sex, so if that is what you're looking for pass this one by.
Part of this story is true. At the end, I let you know which part.
All the grammatical and spelling mistakes are mine. Also, all the legal opinions are mine, so don't bother writing to tell me I don't know anything about the law. I already know that.
I stepped into the restaurant and looked around. At a corner table, I found my ex-wife, but her husband was nowhere in sight. It had been ten years since our divorce, and I must admit that I still had trouble being around her. I kept going back and forth about whether I should meet with her. I finally decided to have the meeting. I just hope it isn't a mistake.
My ex-wife still looked good, but the years were starting to take their toll. I also noticed that she appeared to be very nervous. I remember back to the day when my marriage and my life collapsed. It took years and many hours of therapy to get my head screwed back on right. It all started at the medical clinic.
"Mr. Williams, your report is ready," the receptionist called.
I almost didn't hear her as I was lost in a funk I didn't know if I would ever get out of. Slowly, I rose and went to the reception window. A charge slip slid across the counter, which I signed. Then the envelope was handed to me. I looked at it with growing fear. It was a nondescript envelope with just my name, Justin Williams, on the outside. Yet, I knew that the contents would probably destroy my life.
Numbly, I walked across the street to a park and found a secluded bench. I didn't even notice the drizzle or the wetness of the bench. I was just focused on that envelope. Then with trembling hands, I ripped it open. The report was filled with a lot of words I didn't understand. Still, the things that registered with me were the fact that this was a DNA test and that four individuals had been tested to learn what their relationship with each other was. One, of course, was my DNA. The other three were my wife, Amber, daughter, Jennifer, and son, Todd.
It took me three times to finally understand what the report was saying. My two children were obviously related to their mother and had the same father. However, I wasn't that father. I broke down and started to cry.
After seventeen years of marriage, to find out that my life had been one big fucking lie was too much. I didn't know what to do, or what to think. Yes, it had been a "shotgun wedding," sort of. Amber had gone with Jimmy Swanson for most of high school. I used to think he was a pretty nice guy. He also used to be the quarterback of our football team. That's not as big a deal as it sounds because we usually had a crappy team. I should know because I was the starting middle linebacker. Since our high school was relatively small, if you went out for the team, you suited up. I was a substitute my first year but a starter for the next three years.
The first three years, our team managed to win a total of five games. But my senior year, for whatever reason, we went 6 - 2 and won the regional championship 9 - 7. Jimmy was absolutely shitty that day, but the defense came up big. But the season ended abruptly when we got destroyed in the divisional round.
Jimmy and Amber had been an item for as long as I could remember. But then something happened, and they split up a couple of weeks before graduation. Then Jimmy left town to join the military. He would pop back occasionally until he finally left the army after nine years and settled back in the area permanently.
After the graduation ceremony, I was at one of the parties to celebrate our liberation from high school when I ran into Amber. She actually approached me, and before I knew it, we were fucking our brains out. In my mind, this was a one-off opportunity, and my little head wouldn't pass it up. In truth, I expected that to be the sum total of our relationship. However, that couldn't have been further from the truth.
Four weeks after our romp, Amber cornered me at the Pizza Shack. She was pregnant, and I was the father. That was another time that I didn't know what to think, or what to do, or what to say. However, I didn't cry. Instead, I went and talked to my dad. It was the most difficult conversation I've ever had with him. He, of course, was disappointed in me, but he wanted me to do the honorable thing. So, we got married.
Even though we were both eighteen, Amber didn't want to let her parents know she was pregnant until after we were married. My father made the arrangements, and we eloped to the next state two days later. Amber called her parents from our honeymoon, if you could call it that, three days in a Best Western Hotel. They were less than pleased but quickly adapted to the new situation.
Amber's parents, Fred and Janice Burton, were a very conservative couple that came from old money. Still, they had very traditional values and tried to instill a strong work ethic in their kids. Fred was a bank vice president, and his wife, Janice, was a stay-at-home mom. They had three kids, Julie, Sarah, and Amber, with Amber being the youngest.
It took a few years, but eventually, the Burtons warmed up to the idea of us being married and started to like me. Over the years, I became very close with Amber's parents, especially Fred. He often told me that he considered me the son he never had. So, I was deeply upset when Mr. and Mrs. Burtons were killed in a car accident five years after we got married.
My married life with Amber wasn't all rainbows and unicorns. She could be very moody and demanding. And when Amber was displeased with me, she thought nothing of withholding sex. In fact, we only had sex once or twice a week anyway, and if she was mad at me, we could go for weeks with no sex at all. I'm sure many would wonder why I would put up with that? Well, to be brutally honest, I was totally naïve, plus I was in love. I was very young when I got married and had only had sex with two other girls before Amber told me she was pregnant. So, I thought this was normal, and I thought Amber loved me in her own strange way. However, there were times when I'd reach my breaking point, and tell Amber I was thinking about divorce. Then things would be better for a while.
Before I got married, I had been accepted to Florida State University, but that plan went out the window. Instead, I enrolled in the local college majoring in Business Administration and Marketing. To pay the bills, my father hired me to work for his mail-order business. He had started it and built it up into a multi-million-dollar business. My father's company sold high-end, name-brand camping or fishing equipment.
I started at the bottom, but my father paid me enough for us to get by. Amber refused to work until Todd was old enough to go to preschool. Then she took a job as a real estate salesperson. But to me, it was more like a hobby for Amber as the most she ever made in a year was eleven thousand dollars. She was definitely not one of their top salespersons, as she was never terribly motivated. I paid all the bills and made more each year as I moved up in my father's company.
As I sat on the bench, it was crystal clear to me now that I had been played all those years ago. And I knew instantly that the biological father of my kids was Jimmy Swanson. But I was confused as to why Amber would stay with me. I could understand her being embarrassed at being pregnant and not married. Knowing her parents, the blowback would have been really bad. But after Jennifer was born, Amanda could have divorced me, and I doubt her parents would have batted an eye. And then to have another child with Jimmy three years later was crushing. There had to be more to what was going on than I knew.
"Are you alright?" a voice intruded into my grief.
When I looked up, I found a policeman in a rain slicker staring down at me. His name tag identified him as Officer Sullivan. He watched me as I nodded. I expected him to move along, but instead, he sat down.
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked as he draped his arm over the back of the bench. "Sometimes it helps if you talk about your troubles. At the very least, it can't hurt."
I thought about it for a second and decided why not. I had to talk to someone, so why not a stranger. Wiping my eyes, I then explained to Officer Sullivan my discovery that my wife had cheated on me and that my two kids weren't mine.
"Wow," he said, shaking his head slowly, "and I thought my ex-wife was the coldest-hearted bitch in the world. After my divorce, I discovered that she had cheated on me on the day of our wedding. Oh, she was very careful, but if she felt like fucking someone, she fucked them. I was married to her for five years before I caught on and caught her with a detective from my own precinct. I walked in on them while they were in mid-fuck. That sleazy Detective Peterson tried to climb out the window. But I caught him by his hair and dragged him back into the room. Then I slammed his nose on the floor, breaking it. Blood went everywhere, and Peterson rolled around moaning. Throughout the whole thing, my wife just sat on the bed and smirked. Right then, I knew I had to get out of there, or I'd kill the bitch."
"What happened?" I asked, momentarily forgetting my own pain.
"I called my Captain and explained what I'd come home to and what I'd done. He immediately sent two officers to collect me and two more to collect Detective Peterson. The next day, I was immediately transferred to a precinct on the other side of the city until I cooled down, and they took care of Peterson."
"They took care of Peterson? How?"
"When the dust settled, my wife had left town with a cashier's check for all our money, Peterson was riding a desk, and no charges were filed against me. Then I learned my Captain had talked to the bank manager the day after my altercation with the detective. Unfortunately for my wife, she didn't notice that the check wasn't signed. She was in such a hurry to get out of town because my fellow officers had warned her that I was hunting her with my service weapon. She tried for a few weeks to get someone to sign the check. However, by then, our accounts had been frozen. A month later, Peterson resigned when he realized the "Blue Wall" had closed ranks against him. I divorced my wife and made it so that she would have to fight for every penny she got. Last I heard, she was in California with all the other whores."
I can't say that the officer's story did much to lessen my pain, but at least it had opened the top to let a little seep out.
"My advice to you is simple," Officer Sullivan said suddenly. "Don't do anything stupid. I know that you probably want to kill your wife or yourself. Don't do it. Time and distance will heal almost all wounds of the heart."
After Officer Sullivan left me, I thought about what he had said. I decided I couldn't confront Amber in my current state. My dad had been after me to visit several manufacturers in the Midwest, from which we bought a lot of camping equipment. I was putting off the trip until the spring because I didn't want to subject myself to the freezing weather. Now, I decided to make that trip.
I called my dad, headed home, and was thankful that Amber wasn't there. I quickly packed a bag, called Amber's cellphone, and again, luck was with me. My call went to voice mail. I left a message that I was going out of town on a business trip without any details. Frankly, I didn't think that she would give a shit. And I was right about that because she didn't call until the third day, and I let it go to voicemail.
By the time I got home, I had cooled down and done a lot of thinking. Obviously, our marriage was over. I was still experiencing hurt beyond belief, but I wouldn't show it. When I entered the house, I called out and heard Amber rattling around in the den. She came strolling out and tried to kiss me. I pushed her away.
"We need to talk," I said, heading to the refrigerator for a beer. Once I had it, I sat down at the kitchen table.
"Okay," Amber said warily, "what do we need to talk about?"
