This chapter of the story is written from the husband's perspective. It does not work as a stand-alone story, so you'll need to check out chapter one to be able to follow the events fully. Thanks to Angel Love for her original edit. This story has been slightly revised, so I hope if you've read it before you find the new version even more enjoyable.
*
I was staring at the lonely view of a brick wall from my new apartment when my cell phone rang. It had been hours since I expected to get Terry's phone call, but it hadn't come. I wondered if I had misjudged the situation. Maybe she wasn't that bothered by my leaving. It would give her all the time she wanted to screw around with her friends. Maybe that really was what she wanted.
When I heard the distinctive tones, a quick check of the caller ID revealed that instead of our home number, it was one I didn't recognize. For a moment I wondered it could be her trying to trick me, but decided it was best to answer.
"Hello."
"Is this Steven Davis?" the voice asked in an official tone.
"Yes, can I help you?"
The man informed me that he was with the local police department and that my wife had been involved in some kind of accident. As I felt my stomach twist into a knot, he informed me that she had been taken to Mercy Hospital.
"Is she all right?" I was suddenly very concerned. If someone took the time to track me down, it must have been serious.
"I don't have that specific information, sir. I was just told to contact you and ask if you would come to the hospital."
I hung up the phone as a thousand questions hit me at once. How bad was it? Was there a break-in? Did she try to harm herself? Do they think I had something to do with whatever happened? Did she accuse me of something?
Quickly throwing on appropriate clothes, I hurried to the car and left for the hospital. Once there, I was directed to the emergency room. I was informed that the doctor was examining Terry and would speak with me when he had finished. As I walked into the waiting area, I was greeted with the sight of her whole family, looking tired and upset. When they noticed me, they glared like I was already convicted of whatever happened. Two men in suits stopped talking to her parents and approached me.
"Mr. Davis?" the first man asked.
"Yes, how is Terry?"
"The doctor's still with her, but he told her family she should be fine. I'm Detective Mosley. This is my partner Detective Patrick."
I was too upset to worry about what they might be thinking of me. "So what the hell happened?"
Mosley answered, "Well, we hoped you could tell us. There was a 911 call made from your house at seven-fourteen by your wife. She indicated she was injured and needed an ambulance. The police arrived just before the paramedics and found a note you had written her. We wanted you to tell us what else you know."
I motioned them out into the hall, away from her family. After taking a deep breath to steady myself, I filled them in on the last forty eight hours of my life. They grilled me for fifteen minutes about where I had been and if I had an alibi. Luckily I was able to give them specific times and details about places I had been since leaving the house.
Also, I had the time stamped receipts from the storage place and gas station by my apartment building still in my pocket. They seemed to be fairly sympathetic to my situation. Evidently her injury was consistent with a household accident, so they were inclined to give me the benefit of the doubt until they talked to Terry.
After asking me not to leave town without letting them know, Det. Mosley gave me a business card with a contact number. They prepared to head back to the station, but I begged them not to say anything to Terry's family about why I left. They had been my family for the last five years and I didn't want them dealing with such a personal matter at a time like this. It wasn't going to help anyone for them to be dragged into our mess. I didn't hold out much hope that they would still speak to me after what had happened, but I wasn't going to defend myself by attacking her. They deserved better than that.
The detectives told me they'd let me know if they had other questions or if they found out something. They left, making me deal with a much more difficult problem; Terry's family.
I took a deep breath and walked back into the waiting room. I tried to ignore the looks from her brother and sister, but the glare from her mom really hurt. Since my parents were long gone, I had taken to calling her folks Mom and Dad. I knew that my unwillingness to discuss specifics would probably make me look like a complete asshole. I tried to tell myself that it didn't matter. I knew the truth.
~~~~~
It all started a few months ago, as far as I knew. I started noticing changes in the way Terry was behaving. I'm sure it wouldn't have seemed like much to an outside observer, but it had begun to eat away at me.
She would just zone out at inappropriate times. It could be while we were talking, sitting quietly together, or occasionally even while we were making love. I didn't like the feeling her mood swings gave me. There wasn't anything specific she had done wrong that I could point to. There was just an uncomfortable feeling in my gut that usually preceded something bad.
Instead of being direct with her, which I believed would have just led to fights and a lot of denials; I tried to handle it by being extra sensitive to her needs. I brought home flowers and took her out more often. When we made love, I did everything I could to make sure she was satisfied. I always loved having sex with Terry. She was a wonderful lover, but now every time I strove to make sure that she understood exactly how important she was to me.
I knew for certain there was trouble four weeks earlier. We had just finished having the most amazing sex I could remember in ages. It felt great to me, but must have been even better for her. She had a number of orgasms, which was unusual for a weekday quickie. I was lying back, feeling really good about myself, when I noticed her with that far away look again.
"Terry...Terry!" I repeated in frustration.
"What is it?" She had a blank expression like I had interrupted something important.
"I was trying to tell you how wonderful that felt. Sorry I disturbed you," I said sarcastically.
To avoid saying something I'd later regret, I turned away. I was deeply hurt that she could be preoccupied so quickly after we had such a great deal of pleasure. What else was I supposed to do to get through to her?
"Sweetheart," she said, trying to sound conciliatory. "It was incredible for me too." She moved closer and pressed her breasts against my back. "You were wonderful."
I tried to let it go, but didn't sleep well that night. There was a fear that had been growing inside me for weeks, maybe longer. I finally decided that there was a name behind that fear; Jackie. Her friend was the bane of my existence. I hadn't liked her or her stud husband Ted, since the day they moved into our neighborhood. They both acted like they were better than the rest of us.
Our block was a tightly knit community. We watched out for each other's kids, family and property. Even though there were diverse ethnic and religious backgrounds, we got along like we were an extended family. I knew every person on the block by name. There were several parties a year that practically everyone attended. Most of all, we trusted each other.
When Ted and Jackie moved in, it was like putting poison in a well. Several of the wives found Jackie to be fascinating, despite their husband's objections. Terry was no exception. Almost all the husbands hated Ted. The prissy little punk acted like he thought all women worshipped the ground he walked on. He was a trainer at a local gym and never missed an opportunity to parade around in tight shorts and no shirt in his front yard. Terry insisted we were just jealous because he was young and attractive, but every guy knows someone like Ted. They are nothing but trouble.
I did everything I could to discourage Terry from spending time with them, but she was like a moth to a flame. She admired Jackie for being so outrageous in the way she spoke, acted and dressed. I didn't appreciate the fact that my wife, who I thought was perfect, wanted so much to be like someone I disliked.
Their friendship had grown to the point where they went out together a couple of nights a week. The only thing that kept me from putting my foot down was that Terry would cancel her plans with Jackie if I asked. She only went out with her when I was busy or didn't have specific plans. It kept me from drawing that line because I felt foolish complaining about the situation when she was obviously putting me first. I got the impression she was doing it more for her own gain than for any consideration of me, but I could hardly tell her that.
There was one other thing that kept me from demanding she find a new friend. Terry never went to their house when Ted was home unless I was with her. I don't know how all husbands approach such a situation, but I have a very strong opinion that a wife should never be alone with another man unless she asks her husband first. Terry knew I wouldn't put up with any shit about it not being a big deal because Jackie was there. I trusted Jackie slightly less than her obnoxious husband.
