Hate Me, Hate You
And hate me hating you
There are so many of these stories on LIT. I was reading yet another in which the jilted husband starts drinking too much and moves his money around, although there is no later mention of the cheating wife finding out. The dude moves to the spare bedroom in defiance of his wife's telling him she is spending the night with some other man, blah, blah, blah...
The unparalleled bitch does a 180 upon return, trying to "make it up" to her hubby, then the crying starts. "There isn't going to be any divorce," she claims, like thousands before her. Our hero has limited options due to the state's divorce laws. The kids, like always, never get any say in the decisions surrounding the dissolution.
Now, the funny thing is, I can almost envision where these fictitious couples live in the country based on how the characters behave and whether the family at large sides with the cheating wife.
Saddletramp is one author who doesn't F**k around with his characters. They take decisive and controversial action. But honestly, from just east of Bellevue, WA, to the Florida Keys, most states have a small county with few people, no sheriff, no judges or jury of your peers, just roads with steep drop-offs, where things that are no longer wanted end up. And they were created intentionally for just that purpose.
"Whoa, hang on, Gas," I can hear some of you. "You're not suggesting that murder is a just punishment for cheating, are you?" Of course not. I do not condone that at all. What I'm saying is that shit happens every single day in real life, and not just with wayward spouses, so why do all these hubbies hide in the spare room until they can figure out some ill-conceived master plan? Well, that's somewhat rhetorical because I think I figured out a solution here. As always, I'm sure you'll let me know.
This story was a collaboration with Strikesandballs. It was a pleasure creating it together.
Relax; it's just a story, people.
[Copyright 2025, all rights reserved, including section 107 of US and International copyright law. Conversion of this work to audio file is strictly prohibited]
I wasn't always like this. Perhaps that isn't true; it's hard to say for sure. Maybe it was always there, just below the surface. Justice was always a thing for me, at least justice that fit the crime. Besides, when someone fucked me over, I was able to turn off my feelings towards them. Maybe I should tell you my story.
I'm John Corbin, married to Leah, unfortunately, for eighteen years at the time, and father to Christopher, sixteen and a half, and Hallie, fourteen. I say it was unfortunate, but it wasn't always that way.
I met Leah near the end of our freshman year at college. Her bubbly personality, gorgeous face, and smile drew me in hard. Leah was always a little on the plump side. 'Pleasantly,' I think people call it. No one would call her 'fat.' That was fine by me because I wasn't into petite women; no skin and bones for me. That had to do with an earlier relationship, so I'll rewind a bit.
My dad was a drunk, and a mean one at that. He liked to dole out beatings when he was drunk, which was six-point-eight days out of seven. He never laid a hand on my two younger brothers, only me. Mom caught him once when I was twelve, and she divorced him. People always said it was a disease and not his fault. I couldn't accept that. He knew what he was doing. He had to choose to beat me as well. He drank so much, so often, that he never seemed any different, drunk, inebriated, or sober, so both things were clearly a choice.
Leah's parents were nice to me but it soon became clear that they weren't enamored with me. Leah's sister, Lorna, was a bit of a different story. Where Leah had that plumpness, Lorna was a scrawny beanpole and awkward, almost goofy. She played power forward on her high school basketball team. Leah also had a more rounded, prettier face, and it was easy to see that Lorna had spent her adolescent years dealing with her inability to compete with her sister's looks. And Leah interacted with her as if Lorna was her lady-in-waiting which, over time, soured Lorna's impressions of her big sister.
I always tried to be kind to Lorna. Early on, I sort of felt sorry for her, and it was easy to engage her. Over the years, though, I found Lorna to be smart and easy going. She always had trouble cracking a joke; that was just her self-esteem, but she sure grew on me, no pun intended.
As she grew and her basketball talent emerged, she began to display that confidence that seems to befit successful athletes. By the time she was a senior, she was still a beanpole but she showed the beginnings of a body maturing into a woman, with her hips and curves seemed to be trying to emerge.
So, Leah and I got married at the age of twenty-four and one year after getting our college degrees. We were in love, after all. Those early years were both exciting and difficult. I went to school for an engineering degree, and Leah for accounting. I put myself through college with a little help from my parents and by working as an apprentice in a machine shop. After graduating, I found I liked the work and stayed on.
Chris was born twelve months after we married, which meant Leah put her career on hold to raise our son. Not even two years later, Hallie joined our crew. Those were tough financial times, and our stress was through the roof, even though we enjoyed our children. Looking back, they were what grounded us.
Five years later, once Hallie was in kindergarten, Leah went back to work with a larger accounting firm. At the same time, I decided to open my own shop, which further strained our money. Still, we worked hard, Leah in a job and raising the kids. I spent the first year looking for clients and a partner. Often, Leah or I would have to pick up the kids at her parents after school, and I'd see Lorna, who was then 'Auntie Lorna' to Chris and Hallie.
Like many families in our situation, we didn't start to realize the fruits of our labor until the kids were heading to junior high school. If it sounds horrible, it wasn't. We had love and lots of it. The sex was better than good, at least if what she was saying and how she was behaving were good indicators. While love doesn't solve everything, it's always mandatory for a cohesive and successful family unit. At that point, I had absolutely no concerns regarding fidelity or loyalty.
It was as Hallie was preparing to start high school that I became uneasy. Nothing ever stays the same, and I embraced that, but Leah seemed unsettled occasionally, almost longing for something. I couldn't put my finger on it, but whenever I asked her about it, she would blow it off as nothing, which was my first red flag. There had been changes of any kind concerning work or our social lives.
Proactively, I did some research. The first thing that came up in my search online was the ten signs of a spouse cheating. Leah exhibited only a few. Boredom, uneasiness, and anxiousness were all things that seemed to affect women as they got older and saw themselves as less attractive. Again, she was a bit chubby, but in a good way - I thought it added to her sexiness - but women can be their own worst critics when it comes to their appearance. A few articles pointed to the beginning of menopause. I certainly didn't like that word. It sounded too much like man-o-pause. Besides that, Leah was the same person around me and the kids.
I kept a close eye on things. Our sex life remained the same, meaning no more or less than usual. I first booked a trip to Sedona for Valentine's Day and another to Monterey, California, later that year for her birthday. She seemed appreciative and the 'unsettled' Leah disappeared for a week each time but my sixth sense was telling me she still wasn't all in, that there was still something preventing her from completely rejoining the family and the marriage. The trouble was that it didn't take long to return - whatever it was. I tried talking to her about it several times and then pushed the issue. The kids were out with friends on a Friday night, and Leah was relaxing in the family room.
"Leah," I said nonconfrontationally, "we need to talk."
She put her phone down and looked at me as if to say, 'Go ahead,' but then she saw the serious look on my face.
"Okay," she replied carefully, "as long as we're not going to that same tired conversation again because if we are, my answer is the same."
"Listen to me, " I exaggerated sigh. "It's only a tired conversation because you won't engage. You won't let me in. Something is clearly bothering you; it's like you're putting up a wall. I've been patient because you're my wife, and I owe it to all of us to try to work through it with you, but my patience is running out."
That was the wrong thing to say. "What is that supposed to mean?" she asked indignantly. "Are you threatening me?"
"No. I don't own you, nor will I tell you how to live your life, but you are my wife. As long as you are my wife, I expect we will communicate to resolve any challenges we may face. You've changed these past weeks; you know it, I know it, and the kids certainly feel it. Don't you want them to feel secure, if not for me, for you and me? Please let me in so we can solve this together."
That started a big fight that was far from the original topic. Honestly, it was the biggest fight of words I could ever remember with her. Nothing was solved, and she ended up leaving the room, entering our bedroom, and locking the door in some sort of faux protest.
It was a very cold weekend after Halloween, but it was sunny and warm outdoors. I'd been given my second red flag.
Leah apologized on Monday evening for her attitude and words. She reiterated that nothing major was wrong; she was just going through a 'lull,' as she put it, but my gut burn worsened, telling me she was just going through the motions. I wasn't buying it despite her nearly fucking me senseless that night.
The following day, with sobriety absent the ecstasy, I had that old sinking feeling again. Getting back into it with her and re-explaining the give and take of a marriage seemed a waste of time to me. I was at a loss as to what to do and didn't like that. I'd been a take-charge type of person, so I was definitely in uncharted territory. I reflected on our lives together, our family, and other times we'd fought about things or been under stress.
Thanksgiving was, as always, a big family affair. Leah's father lived in an expensive senior community in Florida ever since Leah's mother had passed six years earlier. My parents also retired recently and purchased a much smaller condo one state over. The kids loved and missed their collective grandparents, which made the day even more special. Lorna had moved into a townhome with former teammates, getting established in her new job as an entry-level analyst for a data firm. Her excitement was palpable as she regaled us with stories after dinner. The kids were captivated by their auntie!
