[:::: Authors Note ::::]
{Note: Due to a typo in the title when I published the original, I have resubmitted a new version with the title stored and a couple of other issues fixed}
In my last story, I wrote my first full-on reconciliation story. Knowing the story would get a lot of mixed reviews, I did smile a little as I hit publish. However, I also rushed it out wanting to have it released in February in line with its namesake, and there were a few mistakes that were not ironed out. As I continue to try evolve my writing, I want to try tackle different scenarios seeing what I put together. Some people will like it, others not so much, but I am working to become a better storyteller regardless of the topic. I hope everyone can appreciate that. This story is based around one of the LW story styles that I like and always enjoy reading, the classic Little Black Dress, where the unknowing husband comes home, finds his wife dressing up and leaving him while she goes on a date. This is my version of this scenario, we're moving right to the other end of the spectrum with a large amount of burn involved. I was surprised at how this story came together. A few of the themes it deals with were not in my original plotline. But I did enjoy how it worked out. As you all know, I am not the greatest in regards to grammar, and in the immortal words of Korban Dallas, "Lady, I only speak two languages, English and Bad English." I think they wrote that for me, but I'm learning. So I would like to thank my fellow editors for their help in working the kinks out of this story, turning my words into something readable with what I hope is passable grammar. I hope you enjoy 'On The Mend'.
[:::: On the Mend ::::]
[:::: - 1 - ::::]
For a Friday, work was hard. One of the machines on the factory floor broke. I spent most of the day working with the engineering crew diagnosing a series of hardware and software issues that left the entire team exhausted. My business of the last dozen years is a printing company that I started on the north side of Sydney, Australia. This one particular Friday evening, I pulled into the garage and parked, leaning back in my seat for a minute. I was tired and just wanted the day to end. Being the owner of a printing company that printed commercial and one-off printing items was always tiring. On the home front, I was frustrated as my wife of over fifteen years, Louise, had not been too affectionate to me recently. I'm a touchy-feely guy. It's the little kisses or arm touches, along with some good lovemaking, that keeps me energised. Recently though, Louise has been withdrawn and moody. She's a 'quality time' girl and adores when I give her my focus. I try to regularly, but it's hard when your wife pushes you away and you have a company to run.
Introducing myself, I'm Cameron Other. Forty-two years old, and between Louise and I, we have two daughters. Our eldest, Carrie, is an eighteen-year-old physical copy of her mother when she was younger. She's intelligent, headstrong and knows what she wants. She is in her third year of university studying engineering and wants to come work with me designing new printing machines when she graduates. Yes, I'm sure you think she's eighteen and in her third year of university? Well, she's that smart. You will also note that I said Louise and I had only been married fifteen years. That's due to our second daughter, Sara. We were happy unmarried with Carrie; however, we got married when we found out we were pregnant with Sara.
Sara is our hippy child, for lack of a better term. She goes with the flow, doesn't have strong opinions on much, and usually takes the path of least resistance. She is as intelligent as her sister but chooses not to apply herself that way. At fifteen years old, she's a social butterfly spending most of her life with friends or glued to her phone talking on Discord.
Both our girls were out for the weekend. Sara was staying with friends, Carrie was out with her boyfriend, Robbie. I expected them both home sometime Sunday afternoon, leaving Louise and I home alone. I sat thinking about the week and started decompressing work from my mind. With the girls out, perhaps Louise and I might get to sort through a few of our recent challenges with a couple of drinks and a little honesty.
I got out of my truck, a two-year-old Ford Ranger, grabbed my bag then walked into the kitchen. Louise wasn't around, so I grabbed a tumbler, poured myself a Kraken and coke, my drink of choice, threw on some mellow tunes sitting down. I was staring at the paint on the walls, just trying to let the day go in my mind. The broken machine was sort of back up and running but would cost us at least ten grand in lost revenue. More if we didn't get a proper fix next week. That was a good chunk of wages for my staff in the Sydney market.
Tearing me away from my internal dialogue, I heard movement and the clicking of heels. My wife Louise walked into the room, taking my breath away. Louise is about three months older than I am and has always been a sexy woman from my perspective. Having given birth to two children and now in her forties, she had gained a little weight, but she went to the gym regularly ate right most of the time, so she kept the curves in the right places. She was what most people would call a natural dirty blonde, had large brown eyes, and for me, despite our recent issues, Louise was my everything.
She was dressed up, ready to go out, wearing a little black dress that hugged her curves, pushed her 32C breasts up, showing just the right amount of thigh to be tantalising while not scandalous. Her hair was pulled back, and she had make-up on. Her handbag was almost bulging as she placed it down on the table, looking at me.
"You look good, my love," I said, and she smiled at me.
I sighed, taking a sip of my drink. "I'm sorry Lou, it's been a huge day, and I just don't have the energy to head out to dinner tonight," I said apologetically, looking her up and down.
She again smiled at me, but there was no love in her eyes this time. Something inside me shifted, feeling my day going from trouble to downright shitty.
"That's okay Cam," she said her tone a little shaky. "I wasn't planning on you coming out with me."
I looked at her. We had very rarely gone out separately in all our years, and even when she had the occasional night out with her girlfriends, she never dressed up like it was a date.
"You weren't?" I said questioningly. I took a large gulp of my drink. "Then why are you dressed up like we're heading out on an extraordinary date?"
For a moment, Louise looked unsure of herself.
"Cameron...." She looked down at herself and stopped.
"You're leaving me?" I asked. Louise was startled.
"No, of course not, Cam...," She tried to reach out, but I pulled away and laughed bitterly.
"Now you're about to tell me that this has nothing to do with us, that it's something you have to do for yourself. You're going to tell me you deserve this after raising two children and being dedicated to our family." I raised an eyebrow at my rapidly deflating wife.
I looked at her sizeable bulky handbag on the table. "Judging by your bag, you weren't looking to come home tonight. So, it's great to see that after all these years that you are so casually walking out on our marriage without giving two shits about what this is going to do to us." I threw the words at her, my voice taking on an accusing, argumentive tone.
"Cam..." she stopped and looked at me. This time I didn't interrupt her. She sighed then spoke quietly. "We both work so much, and I know you're doing this for us. But my seeing Roger will only be for a while..."
"Roger, as in Roger Fellworth, head legal counsel at your work? Roger Fellworth, who is married with three children under ten, that Roger Fellworth?" I asked.
For a moment, my wife didn't reply. But the panic in her eyes told her that I knew exactly who her paramour was. It caught her by surprise.
She again sighed, "Yes Cam, that Roger, he's been so good to me these last few months... Since you haven't been here, he's...."
"Bullshit!" I exploded.
"What?" Louise said, surprised at my sudden outburst.
"You heard me, Louise, I said, bullshit. You are rationalising your way into having an affair. Sure, we work a lot, but saying that I haven't been here is a load of absolute bullshit, and you know it. You're the one that has been pulling away. I have been trying to spend time with you for months, but you give me the cold shoulder. At least now I know why. You're out fucking around on me." I stood suddenly, my chair scraping on the floor.
"Cameron, I am not fucking around on you." She stammered. "Tonight, I mean this weekend was to be our first time." She said sheepishly.
"Right, so you're going to become even more of a slut, not just one night, but an entire weekend of cheating on me." I glared at her a moment, then turned, stalking into the kitchen for another drink. I was beyond tired after work. But I needed another Kraken. I was pouring a double as Louise moved to stand in the doorway of the kitchen.
She was angry, not shy about her feelings for the first time.
"Cameron Other, I am not, nor have I ever been a slut. But, unlike you and your first love Rose, I have never been with another man in my entire life. Roger tells me that I am not cheating on you because I am telling you what is going on. It's only cheating if I hide it."
"That's low Lou, bringing Rose into this, that is a low blow, and you know it." I almost growled at her. But she at least had the decency to look away.
"And you dead wrong, dear wife, it's cheating if I don't accept it, and I do not accept you taking another man to bed. I assume that your new man is having the same conversation with his wife?"
She stammered again, "I.... I don't know." Now looking down at her shoes.
I snorted, topping the double Kraken off with some coke then turning to look at Louise. Her face was a great mask of emotions.
"Most likely, he's lying his ass off about having to be away and will be uncontactable."
I changed tact.
"Has he kissed you yet?"
"What?" Louise asked.
"It's a simple question, has Roger Fellworth kissed you yet?" I annunciated the question.
She blushed, "Yes."
"Has he touched your breasts?"
Her head snapped up, glaring at me, "Cam, that's none of your..." Then, she again looked down, "Yes."
I nodded, "Have you given him a blowjob yet?"
She said nothing as I asked the question turning away, but I saw her nod.
"Well, that says it all, doesn't it?" I was trying to control my anger. "My wife stopped giving me attention, rebuffing my attempts to be close to her, all the while getting more and more physical with another man. So, I guess that's it. We're done here," I said, walking out to the back deck, slamming the back door open so hard that it shook the house.
I sat down on a chair at our back verandah table fuming. A hard day at work, I wanted to come home to be with my wife, now she's telling me she's betraying me.
