There is no sex in this story, sorry. This is a repost of an older story so there will be no voting.
*
The chick flick, my wife Cathy and I were watching the last two hours, was finally over. I had too many beers but she seemed to appreciate it when I sat with her.
"I just don't understand it, John. How could a husband be so hard headed that he couldn't understand and forgive his wife for such a small indiscretion? "
"What the hell do you mean? It wasn't a small thing. She cheated on him for God's sake. Any wife who cheats on her husband deserves any punishment she gets. It is unacceptable in any situation."
"That is awful damn harsh John. A loving husband would be more flexible than that. He would realize that just because she strayed doesn't mean that she doesn't love him."
"It means that her feelings for him are less than what they should be. A wife that cheats on her husband is actually saying that she does not respect him and has no qualms about demeaning him even though it is not in his face. In her eyes he is less of a man regardless."
"What if that is not her intention?"
"It doesn't matter what her intention is, Cathy. What matters is that she did it and the result is inevitable."
"That's bullshit John. I can't believe you are that old fashion. These things can all be discussed and resolved. There is never any need for revenge on the husbands part."
"That only applies when the wife confesses to the cheating before she is caught by the husband. If he finds out about before she tells him, she is doomed. If she denies it after she is caught she should be burned at the stake."
"Most husbands are so oblivious to what their wives are doing that damn few of them ever get caught. This is a stupid discussion. I am going to get ready for bed."
"I'll be up in a few minutes."
Cathy and I had spent most of the day at flea markets and yard sales. I didn't mind carrying her around every weekend because I could usually find things to look at while she was digging out trivets. She collected old cast iron trivets. The nastier they looked, the more she wanted them. We both worked and we were putting as much money aside as we could for our first house. Of course it had to have a big kitchen with enough wall space for at least a hundred trivets. We have only been married for six year but went together for several years before that. She was short and a little chunky. I used to tease her about having childbearing hips. We were planning on several kids after we got settled in the new house.Right now all we needed was enough money for an eighty percent down.
I was finishing up an article in Sports Illustrated but couldn't help thinking about the conversation we just had. Cathy seemed to be a little bit too defensive about the whole cheating subject. It had never come up before. In fact I had never even considered it as a possibility but now she got my attention. Most of the guys I work with keep their wives on short leashes. I don't have Cathy on one at all. I have always trusted her and had no doubts of her fidelity. I had never considered cheating on her and hoped she felt the same about me. In any event I decided a little poking around would not be inappropriate. I was sure I would not turn up anything but just be sure, I would look. I worked from six to four and Cathy from eight to six. That gave me a little time to root into things.
I skipped out of work about nine the next morning and swung by the apartment. I didn't know what I was looking for but it was starting to seem like fun. Sort of like a secret scavenger hunt. I didn't get a chance to start because I noticed an odd sweet smell as soon as I came through the door. It was air freshener, lots of it. I wandered around sniffing, trying to figure out what was going on. I ended up at the living room fireplace. Cathy must have burned something in the fireplace and was trying to cover up the burning smell with room freshener. The bottom of the hearth was clean and looked like it had just been swept. The black soot on the bricks was still damp. If she burned something and cleaned it up, the residue must be somewhere. I figured if she were smart, she would take it to work with her. She wasn't smart. There was a plastic wastepaper basket liner in the trashcan in the garage.
I spread newspapers on the kitchen table and emptied the bag. Most of it was just black ash, but there were little bits of paper and some pieces of photographs mingled in. I would like to say I was able to restore some of the scrapes into something readable but it was not to be. All I really knew was she had decided it was important to burn some old papers and photos so that I would not know about it. That meant that something was going on that she didn't want me to find out about. After the conversation the night before, I was now getting worried.
My whole life was devoted to Cathy and the future that we were building together. It appears now, that I was a little lax in observing what was going on around me. She was not being honest with me about some aspect of her life. I knew very little about her work or her working companions. I never thought it was necessary for me to know. Well she got my attention now.
I stopped by Radio Shack on my way back to work and picked up three voice activated digital audio recorders and extra batteries. The cell phone office was more than happy to give me print outs of the last three months calls on both of our wireless units. I explained that we were being audited by the IRS and needed the info to verify deductions. I asked for both phones so it wouldn't seem suspicious but ran mine threw the shredder at work.
For the first time since I got married I started to think bad thoughts about my wife. I didn't like that. But I was just guessing.
I got home a few hours before Cathy and had time to set the recorders up: living room, bedroom and kitchen. I had to adjust the kitchen one so it wouldn't record the refrigerator running. I would turn them each on when I left for work in the morning. Supper was ready when Cathy got home.
"Hi honey. Hope chili is ok?"
"Sound fine as long as it is not too hot."
About half way through the meal I started probing. "Hey, the house smelled like hell when I got home. It was like a cross between lilac and burned rubber. What the hell did you burn in the fireplace before you left for work?"
She was caught. She had tried to cover up the fact that she burned the stuff but now it was out in the open.
"Oh, it was nothing. Just some old papers and stuff from school."
"What the hell did you burn them for? Why didn't you just throw them in the trash or run them through the shredder? The way you cleaned up the fireplace, it looked like you were getting ready for CSI to come in."
"I don't know. Why is it so damn important?"
"Cathy, it seems very odd that you would wake up this morning, get ready for work, burn a bunch of old school papers and then clean it up so that it looks like it never happened. Do you blame me for being suspicious? Also it didn't look like school papers, it looked like letters and photographs."
"What the hell did you do? Did you root through the trash and dig that stuff out just so you could accuse me of something?"
"Yes."
"Well screw you, asshole. You do the dishes. I am going to take a shower and go to bed and read. You can sleep on the couch."
Cathy had never talked to me like that before but then I had never accused her of anything before.
A few seconds later, the shower was running. I took her cell out of her purse and copied down all her speed dial numbers, all the out going calls, all the incoming calls and all the messages. It only took a few minutes to scan her address book onto a computer file. I didn't mind sleeping on the couch but the living room still smelled like lilac and ashes.
I had plenty of comp time coming at work so I took the day off. I turned on the recorders and left the house at my regular time but went to Denny's instead. A little after eight I went back to the house. Cathy made one phone call.
"Hey, I am having some problems at home. No, it is nothing like that. He just suspects something is going on but doesn't have a clue what it is. He is just being irritating and really starting to piss me off. OK.OK. I guess I can do that. Maybe Friday. See yah."
I have no idea who the mystery person on the other end was but I figured I would know soon. I wonder what was going to happen Friday.
I spent the morning at the library going over her phone logs. I could have done it at home but the reverse phone directory at the library was better than the one on Internet and faster. Of course it didn't work worth a shit for the cell phones. I was able to eliminate most of the numbers because I knew them or was able to correlate them with her address book.
Standing out like a sour thumb was the number for a TR. It was on her speed dial and in her address book. The address book also listed a landline number, which turned out to be a Tom Rollins. Cathy worked with him at Generex and I actually met him a few times. The last time was about ten days ago at a company function. He and Cathy were close all night and I remembered I didn't like it. He was married to a cute little brunette who didn't seem to be having any fun at the party either.
I made a list of all the times that Cathy called Tom in the last three months and all the times he called her. None of the text messages came from him. I assumed that Tom was the one Cathy called this morning. There were a lot of phone calls. But I was just guessing.
After making a couple of copies of the phone list I went by Tom Rollins' house. I figured I had nothing to lose so I knocked on the door.
"John Connor, I was hoping to get to talk to you. Come on in."
Damn, that was an unexpected surprise.
"I'm sorry. I am at a disadvantage here. I know you are married to Tom but I don't think we have ever actually met."
"My name is Sylvia but everybody calls me Sly." She held out her hand and I shook it just to be polite.
"John, what I need to talk to you about is the affair that your wife and my husband are having."
Wow. She hit me square in the face again. I was not expecting that either. It appears that she knows a hell of a lot more than I do.
"I am filing for divorce from Tom and I am naming Cathy in the suit. I have lots of documentation to support it and would like to collaborate several things."
"Sylvia, I have no intention of giving you a hard time about this but I really just found out about this yesterday. I don't have information to help you. The only things I have right now are a few phone logs."
"Let me see. Let me see."
She was really anxious about the little bit that I had. I gave her one of the copies I had and told her she could keep it.
Sylvia started going over the phone logs like an IRS auditor. She was making annotations on the logs and checking the information against documents that she had. She was grinning and I thought she would burst into a cackle at any moment. The more she worked on it the more feverish she seemed to come. I finally broke in.
"Is there any information that you can share with me?"
"Of course. I am willing to give you anything that I have. Here, this is what I have gathered the last two weeks."
She pushed three motel receipts across the table to me. They showed the date, time and of course the name of the motel. All three were different. All three were paid with cash.
