Small Concrete Actions

I am a first time author here. I decided to write my first story as a 750 word story.

I finished the first part and felt I had more story to tell, It turned into a four part story with each part having 750 words.

I provided two endings so you can pick your poison.

I am publishing this without an editor looking at it. I know it is a bad idea to do that, but I couldn't find one. I attempted to find an editor using the "find editor" tool, but received no response. Either I did it incorrectly or no one was interested. Rather than wait, I'm letting it go as is.

If you would like to volunteer to be a beta reader or an editor, please contact me through the site.

As a first time author, positive feedback would be greatly appreciated.

***

I spent the afternoon I discovered Katie fucking Arceneaux with a divorce attorney. Connie was the divorce ace in our part of North Carolina. She was brutally honest: if I wanted a quick out, I'd be better off filing in Florida.

In NC, to divorce you need to be legally separated for a full year. There isn't a legal process for separation, you just live apart for a year. However, if I left for Florida, it gave Katie a way to legally claim I'd abandoned her.

Florida is a no-fault state with a short waiting period, but you have to be a legal resident for six months before you can file.

When I was done with Connie, I went home. After Katie's disconsolate confession and apology, I said I needed a few days away from her to process. The cost of removing her from my life was that one conversation and two nights in a hotel.

Next morning, Connie filed my petition for "divorce from bed and board." A DBB in NC is not a divorce, but a court-ordered separation. This would get me off the hook for abandonment when I went to Florida. It also allowed me to request possession of the house. It was granted-- the police report that showed my wife's lover had set a fire to my house with drug paraphernalia was a slam dunk.

Connie also filed an Alienation of Affection suit against Katie's employer. Katie was fired that afternoon and given the walk of shame in front of her coworkers. With no job, no housing, and no options, she had little choice but to drive down to Jacksonville, Florida and move in with her parents.

The smoke damage to the house was being repaired by a contractor while a deputy sheriff watched Katie pack her shit. I was at work, so I didn't have to witness it.

I found my house on the second day of house hunting. Veronica, my real estate agent, was a recent divorcee and talked me through how divorce works in Florida. She also gave me the card of a counselor. With touching earnestness, she told me that seeing the counselor after her divorce was best decision she'd ever made. I took her advice and made an appointment.

The counselor was a middle aged woman named Myra. She was incredible. She went right at what was bothering me: the fact that Katie responded sexually to Arceneaux in ways that she had never responded to me. She made me realize I had been torturing myself over bullshit. She helped me let go of the anger I didn't know I was holding.

After the separation, the family scene was a shit show. My folks and took Katie's side. Katie's folks took my side. Every time we had a family get together, Katie would be there tearfully begging me to forgive her. I had to cut my own family off.

I lawyered up and filed for divorce at six months and one day. She lawyered up with Jacksonville's shark of all sharks. He was Hollywood good looking, slick as shit, and hated to lose. He got the court to order us into counseling. My lawyer's only victory was getting Myra named counselor.

After meeting Katie, Myra asked me to give her two months to work with Katie before our group sessions. I allowed it. After two months of one-on-ones with Katie, Myra asked for my permission to play tapes of my counseling sessions for Katie. I allowed that too.

We had only one group session.

Myra had Katie confess, accept full responsibility, provide an explanation, apologize, and then ask for forgiveness. It was unrehearsed and honest, It convinced me that Katie had grown during her sessions with Myra.

It wasn't enough.

I forgave Katie, but told her we had no future together.

Katie asked me what was required for me to change my mind.

I told her I needed three things. First, incontrovertible proof that she had only cheated that one time. Second, I needed incontrovertible proof she could be trusted not to cheat again. Third, I needed a kitchen pass for an affair so that she could suffer the same degree of humiliation and anguish that I had. I said, "Two wrongs don't make a right, but it would make us even."

Katie had a one on one with Myra to discuss it. After that meeting, Katie withdrew her opposition to the divorce. A few days later, the judge declared me free.