This is the eleventh installment of a series called, "Fallout" that deals with the consequences of cheating. The current plan is that each entry in the series can be read as a separate story.
The following was inspired by Just Plain Bob's 2006 story, "
Cynthia's Business Trips
," in which a husband learns that his wife of six years has engaged in numerous interracial gangbangs throughout their marriage and courtship. In the end, the husband accepts it and lets her continue with no consequences. If you have not read that story yet, I suggest you do so. The characters in this story are different, and the outcome is different, but the main premise remains the same. Yes, there are consequences for her betrayal...
Many thanks to those who offered comments and constructive criticism on my previous stories. For those who want to say this or that would never happen, remember this is my universe, a place where nearly anything can, and often does, happen. At least on paper...
Please refer to my profile for more on my personal policy regarding comments, feedback, follows, etc. (Yes, I DO moderate comments) And please remember, this is a work of fiction, not a docu-drama...
* * * * *
I sat in the bar with my good friend Toby, celebrating what was to become a very profitable business deal for both his company and mine. We toasted the deal with a beer and took a large drink when we heard a loud ruckus in another part of the bar.
"What the hell is going on over there?" Toby asked.
"No idea," I said as we both looked. We saw a young blonde woman sitting in a booth surrounded by several fairly large men. She was obviously tipsy and was laughing very loudly at something one of the men said. We both took note of her attire. She wore a very short skirt and a loose, sleeveless top. Except for the long blonde hair and the rose tattoo on her shoulder, she could've passed for my wife, Donna.
But I knew it couldn't be Donna, since she was off on one of her twice-monthly business trips. Her trips could last anywhere from three to five days, and I hated it when she left. This time, she was in Houston for four days, working with the management of a factory there. The company she works for sells safety equipment to a number of plants around the country, so she's on the road a lot.
That's why I decided to meet with Toby in Oklahoma City. I figured with her gone, it would be the best time for us to meet and it wouldn't interfere with my home life. As we watched, "Blondie" stood up and the whole gang left the bar. They walked right by us, her arms linked with a man on each side, one black and the other Hispanic. She glanced at me as she walked by and I could make out her deep blue eyes. They all laughed as they walked by and headed out the door.
"You okay, Bob?" Toby asked me after they left. That's me, by the way. Bob Carson, head of product development for Ryker Industries in Denver, Colorado. I had been tasked with putting together a deal with Toby's company to produce a new line of HVAC controls for a new set of energy-efficient smart-homes. With all the concern over the environment and going green, this would benefit both our companies. Tonight's celebration was the culmination of that effort.
"Yeah," I said. "It's just... that woman reminds me a lot of my wife, Donna."
"Isn't she in Houston?" Toby asked.
"Yeah," I said. But something about the blonde bothered me. Don't ask me to explain it. Just then, a waitress came to our table. We placed an order for two more beers, but I stopped her before she left.
"What can you tell me about that blonde?" I asked.
"Oh, her?" she asked in response. "I've seen her in here a few times. Always has a gaggle of men trailing after her. You're not looking to meet her, are you?"
"No, I was just curious," I said. We finished our beer and headed out for the night. I promised to keep in touch with Toby and headed to my room for the night. Once there, I tried calling Donna, but the call went straight to voicemail.
I thought that rather odd, since she always kept her phone nearby. I tried calling her at the hotel she was at in Houston, but was told that she had checked out early that morning. It wasn't unusual for Donna to combine two clients with one visit, but she always made sure to let me know if her travel plans had changed.
I sent a text: "How are U? Everything okay?" I got a response fairly quickly.
"Tired," she wrote. "Long day. Getting ready for bed."
"Where R U?" I wrote back.
"At the hotel," she said. "Where else?" Where else, indeed, I thought to myself. What the hell is going on here? It wasn't like Donna to lie to me. Or was it? "I'll be home Friday night as planned. See you then. Love U!" she said in a follow-up text. Reading between the lines, I knew that was her code for "don't bug me."
"Love U more," I wrote back.
The next day I went home, confused. If Donna wasn't in her hotel, where was she? Was she even IN Houston, or had she gone somewhere else? I decided to confront her about this when I saw her.
Friday came around soon enough, and Donna had made it home just as she had said. In fact, she got home before me and her car was already in the garage. I could hear the shower running when I walked upstairs. I got out of my clothes and decided to join her.
"Aaaaagh!" she screamed as I opened the shower door. I stepped in and tried to hug her, but she wouldn't let me.
"What's the matter?" I asked. "I haven't seen you for days and you act like I'm some kind of a rapist or something."
"You scared the crap out of me," she said. "Please, let me just finish my shower and I'll be out in a few minutes, okay?" I could tell when I'm not wanted, so I shrugged my shoulders and got out.
"Whatever," I said. "I missed you and just wanted to show you some affection, that's all." I stormed out of the bathroom, dressed and headed downstairs where I grabbed a beer and sat down to watch some news. She came down about a half hour later, wearing a pair of cutoffs and a t-shirt.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you," she said. "I've missed you too. It was a horrible trip."
"I tried calling you Wednesday," I said. "Where were you?"
"I was in my hotel room," she said.
"Really? Then why was I told you checked out early that morning?"