Hi folks, I'm not trying to tell any of you what to do. I'm only making a suggestion to save us some time. Those of you who don't believe in forgiveness should probably skip this one. Don't even bother reading it just move straight to the comments and write down how much you hated it and how you've read fifteen million stories that are exactly like it. For those of you who are still here, please read the notes at the end of the story. After reading the story you may be in for a surprise. This story was edited by but not the fault of the incredible Mikothebaby. I applaud her even more this time because she did a fantastic job even though she didn't like the story or the characters.
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George Santayana: "Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it."
I guess the modern equivalent of this would be the movie "Groundhog day," where poor Bill Murray continually lives out the same fucked up day over and over again. Then in the middle we have of course Scotty's famous line from Star Trek: "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. The elderly man behind the counter looked perplexed as I spoke to him.
I'm sure by now you're wondering what the hell I'm babbling about, right? He nodded his head and adjusted his glasses. Okay listen to my story and you'll see the quandary I find myself in.
Just about three years ago, I stepped outside of a building after a great meeting with a potential new client. The meeting had gone well, better than well actually because I had also met a really nice woman at the meeting and she'd accepted my invitation to have drinks with me that evening.
Anyway, there I was with my head in the clouds. I'd been depressed for a while because only seven months before that date, my wife had sat me down for a talk.
"Daniel, I need to talk to you," she'd said. I smiled and took her hand but she pulled away from me. "I'm going to tell you something and you're not going to like it."
"What's wrong Lena?" I asked.
"There's no easy way to say this," she said. "I want a divorce."
At first I thought that I hadn't heard her correctly or that it was some kind of joke. Lena was always smiling and always playing practical jokes on me and everyone she knew and cared about.
"Okay, Honey. What's the punch line?" I asked. She looked me straight in the eye and suddenly I knew that she wasn't playing around this time. She had a kind of manic look in her eyes, like something was wrong with her. Lena and I had been married for six years. We had a great marriage and I loved her more than anyone else I could think of.
If I had to describe Lena, I guess I'd describe her as cute. She had brown hair that was short and swingy. Every time she moved her head that mop of hair fanned out and then settled back into place. She also had sparkling blue eyes and a sprinkling of freckles across both cheeks. Her lips were full and she had a sexy little mole just below the right side of her mouth.
Her body was petite, with small but perky breasts and an incredible ass. Her legs were just slightly thick but they were so curvy that you just immediately imagined yourself between them. Lena was my entire world wrapped up into one being and she knew it.
"Daniel, I love you too much to cheat on you, but I've met someone and...well, I want to be with him," she said.
I've always prided myself on being a man of reason and being slow to anger but that morning I just lost it. I kicked over the chair that I was sitting in and just walked out of the room. I didn't want to say anything to her.
I was just remembering how different she'd been the previous night when we'd had sex. She'd been far less enthusiastic than usual and I'd simply chalked it up to biorhythms or tiredness, but I realized then that she'd probably known even then that she was going to run this bullshit on me even then.
Her heart had belonged to this asshole a full twenty four hours previously, but she'd given me some kind of halfhearted mercy fuck for old-time's sake.
I got myself together and went back into the room. She sat there with a fearful expression on her face.
"I'm going to pack a few things," she said tentatively. "I'll come back tomorrow while you're at work. I'll drop off the divorce papers when they're ready."
"Just go!" I said.
"But don't you want to talk about..." she began.
"I don't want to talk to you period," I said.
"But what will we tell people?" she asked.
"The truth," I spat. "That my wife is a whore, who couldn't control her urges so she left me with no warning and destroyed a good marriage."
With the rising of my temper, both the volume and the anger in my voice were gaining intensity.
"Lena, just get the fuck out of my sight," I snapped. "Come back for your things tomorrow. Don't bring Mr. Wonderful to my apartment."
"Daniel, I'm sorry," she said. "None of this is your fault. It just happened."
"I won't be responsible for what else just happens if you don't get the fuck out of here," I hissed.
She got up and quickly left the apartment. The divorce papers came only a few days later. She hadn't asked for anything. She just wanted to be free of me.
Everyone we knew eventually figured it out although I didn't tell anyone. My mom and dad were no longer alive but my friends were very supportive. They assured me that I hadn't done anything wrong, but the doubts I had about myself weren't that easily put away. I spent a few nights trying to drink myself into an early grave. I was angry at the world and got into more than one fight that I could have and should have avoided.
Perhaps my most staunch supporters, strangely enough, were Lena's parents and her sister. Lena's mom called me as soon as she heard and asked me what was wrong with Lena. Her dad got on the phone next. He told me I should go over there, wherever there was, and kick that guy's ass and bring my woman home, kicking and screaming if necessary.
