There is no sex in this story. It's a story about what can happen if you jump to conclusions without getting all of the facts.
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When John Stevenson got home on Saturday afternoon he was immediately shocked. As he pulled his '67 GTO into the driveway he saw that his big new Chevy truck had been trashed.
John got out of the car and was speechless for a few minutes as he walked around the truck surveying the damage. The truck had dual rear wheels and all 4 of them as well as the 2 on the front had been slashed. All of the windows had been busted out. The body had obviously been severely beaten with the sledge hammer in the driveway...his sledge hammer. The mirrors had been busted off. Inside the leather seats had been slashed as had the headliner. The radio had been smashed as well. Whoever had done it did a very thorough job of trashing the truck.
John couldn't think how anybody could have done it with his wife Emily at home the whole time. John began to fear that something might have happened to Emily as well. He rushed to the front door. When he got inside the house was a mess.
"Oh God. Emily! Emily! Are you here?" John asked.
John searched through the house. Every room had been torn apart. That didn't matter to John he was only concerned about his wife. When he got to the bedroom he found that the bed had not been torn apart but the rest of the room had.
On the bed John found a hand written letter from Emily.
"John, you son of a bitch how could you? I've been so good to you for so long and that's how you repay me? If she means more to you than I do fine, I'll go. I hope she's worth it. I also hope you enjoy the mess I left for you. I always kept a neat house for you, but you were always leaving things where they didn't belong. I figured I'd get you started on living your life as a slob before I left. You'll notice that the bed is still perfectly made. That's because I've never sullied my bed by sharing it with anyone but you. You'll be served with divorce papers tomorrow at work. Fuck you John. I hate you so much for this. Emily" John read.
John was blown away. Emily thought that he'd cheated on her. John never would and never could cheat on Emily; he'd rather die.
"I've got to find her...I've got to make this right." John said.
John hurried downstairs, grabbed the phone and the little phonebook that they keep friends and family's numbers in. He dialed Emily's parents first.
"Hello?" Mary asked.
"Mary, it's John, do you know where Emily is?" John asked.
Mary just hung up.
"What the hell?" John asked.
He dialed the number again.
"John, don't ever call here again." Mary said.
She hung up again. Apparently Emily had told her that John had cheated on her. He dialed Emily's sister Lisa's number.
"Hello?" Lisa asked.
"Lisa please don't hang up. There's been a misunderstanding; it's not what Emily thinks." John said.
"I don't know John; it sounded pretty convincing to me." Lisa said.
"Please just tell me where she..." John said.
Lisa hung up before he could finish. He dialed Emily's brother Adam; he and John had always gotten along really well.
"Hello?" Adam asked.
"Adam, I need to know where she is. It isn't what she thinks." John said.
"I don't want to have anything to do with you John; not after what you've done to my sister." Adam said.
Adam hung up. He dialed Emily's friend Beth.
"Hello?" Beth asked.
"Beth if you talk to her tell her it isn't what she thinks. Tell her I can explain it all." John said.
"Oh I'm sure you've got a good batch of lies all worked up John. How the fuck could you do that to her?" Beth asked.
Beth hung up. John couldn't think of anyone else to call so he just sat on the floor in the kitchen and cried. Somehow Emily had heard about or seen him going to the hotel every day and assumed that he was cheating on her. Her note said that he'd be served with divorce papers at work the next day.
John didn't sleep that night; he just sat there in the dark and sobbed. The next morning at work John's friend Mark saw that he was looking pretty down so he came over to talk to him.
"What's up John? What's got you looking like this?" Mark asked.
"Unless I'm wrong he does." John said.
John pointed towards a man in a suit with a large envelope in his hands talking to another co-worker that had just pointed towards John. The man walked over to him.
"John Stevenson?" The man asked.
