*In marriage there is always the Other Person*
(Thanks to Treborrobbo for editing)
(A shorter story than most I write.)
*
Thomas Norman came home early from his business trip to Omaha to find the house dark, though it was close to eleven. He had good news to tell his wife; he'd finally gotten that promotion that they'd both been hoping for so long. He would still travel, but fewer times a month for fewer days. Things were looking up.
He slipped the door open and walked down the hall. He kept quiet, hoping to catch his wonderful wife in bed. This would be a wonderful way to wake her up. When he got close to the bedroom he heard snuffling noises and he froze. His wife was crying. Thomas closed the rest of the distance rapidly and burst into the room.
His wife Darla was curled into a fetal ball on the bed.
"Darla, what's wrong?" he asked. Darla gave a startled cry.
"Nothing," she lied unconvincingly. Thomas was unsure what to do so he stepped toward her cautiously in the dark.
"Baby, what is it?" Thomas continued.
"I'm okay... I'm just feeling a little sick," she stammered. By now Thomas was close enough to make out his wife clearly, even in the dim light. Her beautiful hazel eyes were ringed with tears, her dark blonde hair was a mess, and her luscious red lips were puffy and... Bitten.
Thomas was torn between anger that she wouldn't tell him what happened, and sorrow that anything had happened to her in the first place.
"Damn it," Thomas groaned, "who had sex with you? Was it rape?" Darla fell to pieces then, so Thomas moved to her and brought her into his arms.
Darla's legs were pulled up to her chest. With a smaller woman Thomas could have wrapped his arms totally around her, but Darla was tall, five-eleven, though slender. Now she seemed to be all arms and legs. Thomas always thought his wife was as gorgeous as any woman he'd ever met; better than he deserved.
"Darla," Thomas persisted, "you have to tell me what happened. Do I need to call the cops right now?"
Darla wailed and began shaking. Thomas took her face and nestled it into his shoulder for several long minutes, while she slowly worked the anguish out of her system.
"I'm so sorry," she managed to whimper.
"Sorry about what?" he inquired.
"I've been unfaithful," she groaned. "I've let another man use me like a whore."
Thomas' initial reaction was total denial. His wife hadn't said that. This couldn't be happening; not to him and Darla. Their marriage was so solid.
"Who?" He managed to croak out.
"Joel Masterson," she whispered.
"Joel? Our next door neighbor Joel? For the love of God Darla, make me understand this," Thomas rambled.
"I went to a party at Bob and Marge's. I got drunk and Joel offered to take me home... I think... I wasn't really thinking clearly. Joel took some naked pictures of me at his place. When I came to, he told me he would send you the pictures, but offered to destroy the pictures if I had sex with him."
"So you had sex with him..." Thomas mumbled. "Darla, why couldn't you trust me to understand?"
"I wasn't thinking straight and I was scared. You were on the road so much and I was afraid we'd drifted apart. I was afraid of losing you," she wept.
"He kept blackmailing you with the material?" Thomas sighed as he struggled to come to grips with things.
"Yes. He makes me come over when you aren't home. I..." She gulped, "take care of all his needs." Thomas took a long look at his wife, who looked back with pleading eyes.
"I forgive you Darla," Thomas declared. "This guy is a sexual predator. I wouldn't have put it past him to put something in your drink." Thomas sat there with a set jaw for a moment.
"Darla, do you want me to go over there and punch his lights out, or do you want us to get some real revenge?" Thomas looked intently at his wife. Darla was no man's punching bag. She'd been caught in a moment of weakness and exploited, but now she realized she'd been fundamentally wrong about one thing. Her husband had never stopped loving her.
"What's your plan?" Darla sniffled.