Infidelity Pt. 2 - Return to Sender
By Cindy Johnson / Edited by @OffRoadDiesel
Tags: #Revenge, #Violence, #Pain, #Humiliation, #Over-the-Top, #Strippers, #Reconciliation
Preface
:
I try not to write follow-up stories and felt the last one was good on its own, but after 48 emails requesting some answers, I decided to write this last chapter.
Suggestion
: If I were you, I wouldn't read this chapter of the story as it has Violence, Psychological Trauma, and an Over-the-Top theme. I'm sure this part will get some interesting comments by the Anons'. You've been warned 😀.
Eighteen months after the divorce
As Julie stepped out of her car at midnight, the frigid Chicago wind slammed into her like a wave of icy needles. That night, the temperature had dropped below zero and she was exhausted from the long drive, but the cold air woke her up and she focused on her plan. It was the end of the 12-hour drive from Atlanta when she checked into the small, nondescript motel, just a short drive from her final destination.
For the last eighteen months, Julie's life had become a living hell. She blamed Mikal for her divorce and held a deep hatred for him, but took no blame upon herself. She was convinced that if he hadn't sent that damn letter, her marriage and life would be normal, as if nothing ever happened. The saying, "No harm - No foul," played in her head.
Eighteen months ago, her happy life was turned upside down by Mikal's ruthless action of sending that confession letter to her husband. She couldn't understand and wondered what kind of man does that? In her mind she believed that that one action was cruel and was pure evil. She now lived alone in a small studio apartment and had to find a job to make ends meet. When her friends found out about her affair, they abandoned her and ghosted her on social media, leaving her alone with only her aging mom and dad there for comfort.
Living in misery in her new life without the man she loved, her anger toward Mikal grew. She became obsessed with making him pay for ruining her marriage. After months of looking for him, she found Mikal. The PI she hired had all the information, and shortly after that, she called his number at work.
Sitting comfortably at his desk, Mikal wasn't expecting her call and assumed that after all this time that his plan had not worked. He had hoped her marriage would fall apart after her husband found out about the affair and that she would track him down right away.
Casually, as if taking any other call on his business line, he picked up the phone and said, "Hello, this is Mikal."
"You bastard!" Julie let out in an angry voice, unable to suppress her feelings.
He smiled as he instantly recognized the voice. "Julie, is that you? I was hoping you would track me down."
"Why?" she screamed into the phone. "I need to know why you did that. Why would you send a letter exposing the affair to my husband? You knew what he meant to me and how much I love him. You destroyed my marriage, and my life has turned to shit, all because of you!"
"Calm down, Julie. We had a good thing, and I know you wanted me. I mean, as much as you told me you loved your husband, you sure loved the sex with me. I'll be honest, I sent that letter hoping to blow up your marriage and see if he would leave you, so that we could be together. This is good, you and I make a great couple, and now we can be together."
It took her a few seconds to take that in and started yelling even louder, "Are you fucking out of your mind? Are you insane? I want nothing to do with you! My life is a disaster, and it's all because of you. I hope you die! I hate you!" she said, screaming into the phone.
He let out a long laugh after her outburst. "You're blaming me for your mess? I never forced you to cheat on your husband. Yeah, you always felt bad after we made love, but why did you keep coming back? I'll tell you why! You liked my big cock, and how I fucked you. Yes, I know, you love your husband and how he makes you feel with all that tender love bullshit. You know, I had to hear you say that over a hundred times, and each time I heard it, it made me sick."
He hesitated before he continued, "But Julie, you need to admit it to yourself that you enjoyed the way I pounded you into the mattress and used you like a rag doll each time we fucked. That's why you kept coming back, you loved getting fucked the way your husband couldn't. Julie, you're beautiful and a good lay, and I hoped he would leave you, and it worked. I thought you wanted us to be together, but now you call me all pissed off and wishing me dead. You're angry that I fucked you so good you couldn't get enough. Well, fuck you. Don't ever call me again." He slammed the phone down and leaned back in his chair, wondering if his plan was doomed from the start. He would just have to find another sex-crazed married woman, which was easier than the dating game.
When Julie heard those words and he hung up on her, something broke inside her. Right then, she knew he was right, and that's why she kept going back to him. She needed to discuss it with her therapist to sort things out, but in that moment, she was so furious at him that she promised herself she'd get revenge for ruining her life.
The investigator she worked with was thorough, and she now had his work info, his home address, and the places he visited. That same night, she followed him after he left work to a strip club on the other side of town. She stayed back far enough not to be seen and parked on the far side of the parking lot until he went into the club. She then found a parking spot between the club and his car, lying in wait to confront him and enact her revenge.
Two hours later, she watched him leave the bar, and that was when the rush of adrenaline overtook Julie. She got out of her car just as he walked past her and then quickly moved in behind him. She thought her original plan to confront him was a good one, but her rage took over. She swung the aluminum bat she brought with her, hitting him in the back of the head, instantly dropping him to the asphalt, unconscious. The 18 months of anger were about to become unleashed on the man she blamed for her divorce. After six or seven more blows to his body, Julie calmly turned, got in her car, and drove out of the parking lot back to her hotel, took three sleeping pills to try and calm down, and woke up the next day around noon from the maid who was pounding on the door.
Mikal was rushed to a Chicago hospital in critical condition. The fire and rescue ambulance screeched through the city's streets, its siren a piercing wail that drilled into his skull. Blood crusted on his torn shirt, and a deep gash across his forehead throbbed with every heartbeat. As he drifted in and out of consciousness, each breath sent a white-hot stab through his ribs, the pain so unbearable it blurred his vision. Fear clawed at him, fearing his ultimate demise.
In brief moments of clarity, Mikal mumbled to a police officer. He recalled a phone call that morning, Julie's sharp, venomous tone promising he'd regret crossing her. He believed his attacker was either Julie or her husband, though he'd never spoken to the man, making Julie the main suspect. The officer leaned closer, his pen hovering over a worn notebook. "Did you see the attacker?" he asked, his voice weary from too many nights like this. Mikal admitted he hadn't seen anyone, his mind fixating oddly on the paramedic's crooked name tag - 'Jerry' - anything to distract from the pain.
The ER was a blur of shouting doctors and beeping monitors, but Mikal felt alone, strapped to a stretcher, under harsh fluorescent lights. With little evidence to go on, the police promised to investigate, but in Chicago, where distant sirens blended into the city's restless pulse, crimes like this were all too common. The officer's-tired eyes looked up at the clock as he told Mikal he was lucky to be alive.
