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The Last Straw
I had the proof, now all I needed was the why. It was time to confront, the son of a bitch. He had even brought his floozies into our marital bed. My bed. Where I sleep at night. Where he used to make love to me. He was either stupid or didn't care I knew. I had purchased a nanny cam and put it on my dresser. I now have hours of his infidelity on six different DVD's. I have copies, my lawyer has the originals. He's drawing up the paperwork to end our marriage.
I'm sad about that. I really loved him. If it had only been one woman, I might have been able to forgive him, but then the old adage comes to mind. Once a cheat always a cheat. It was time. I went downstairs with the DVD in hand. I pushed it into the player on top of the TV set, let it start and pressed the pause button.
"Neal, could you come here for a minute?" I shouted.
"Huh? Sure honey, whatever you need," he said as he left the den and came into the living room.
He went to kiss me, I smiled as I turned my head so he only kissed me on the cheek.
"Have a seat, dear, I have something to show you," I said sweetly.
He shrugged and sat on the couch where I had pointed. I sat about a foot away. Picking up the remote I pressed the power button for the TV. The screen lit up. I pressed the play button for the DVD player. And there was my dear, sweet husband fucking his 20-year-old secretary in our bed. I heard his gasp.
"What..." he hissed. "No, no, no, how did you get this," he shouted.
"You didn't even notice the nanny came on my dresser?" I asked.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cried. "I'm so sorry you have seen that...it was only that one time, I swear."
The picture changed. Betty Johnson was now bouncing up and down on his cock.
"Only once, huh?" I said. It was a rhetorical question.
"Oh god. Shut that off, please. What do you want? I promise never to do it again," he said smiling his charming smile that he wooed clients with and probably those women.
I laughed. His smile no longer worked like it used to on me. After watching these videos over and over, I was no longer in love with his cheating ass.
"Half, that's all I really want. My lawyer said I could have it all, but I only want half."
He gasped. The look on his face was priceless.
"You're divorcing me?" he asked.
"Of course I'm divorcing you. Wouldn't you divorce me if I was the one cheating and sleeping around like you are?"
"Of course, but that's different."
"Bullshit. It's no different. You're sleeping around. You're married. To me. You're a cheating bastard."
"But men are put together that way..."
"Horseshit," was all I said.
"Honey, baby, do you really want to give up, this," he said waving his hands at himself.
I laughed at him. I laughed and nodded at him.
"Do I want to give you up? Damn right. I don't want your filthy cock to touch me. You haven't even noticed that we haven't had sex for the last three months, have you?"
"We haven't?"
"No we haven't, but you have," I said pointing at the TV.
Now he was fucking my sister, her husband would be getting a copy of this part of the evidence. His shoulders slumped. His head dropped, chin on his chest.
"I'm really sorry sweetheart, I never meant to hurt you," he said softly.
"Bullshit! And you know it is. You didn't care for me at all, did you?"
His head snapped up, eyes blazing with hate. If looks could kill.
"See. If you really cared, you wouldn't be looking at me like that. And my lawyer is on his way here to serve the papers outlining our divorce. So don't you even think about touching me."
As I finished, the doorbell rang. I stood and went and opened the door. There was Michael, smiling at me. He stepped in, saw that my husband was on the couch and walked over to him. Setting his briefcase on the coffee table and opening it. He took out a sheaf of papers and handed them to my dear, sweet husband.
"You have been served. You have 30 days to respond. If you do challenge the proceedings and lose, you will not only be responsible for half of all property and cash to be turned over to your wife, but you will also be responsible for her legal fees. I suggest you just sign them and be done with this whole thing.
"You will also," Michael said, "have four hours to vacate the property which is in your wife's name. You are no longer welcome here. I have two sheriff's deputies outside to help you if you refuse." Michael handed him the notice to vacate.
"But I paid for this house. It's free and clear of any liens or mortgages. It's my house."
"Not according to the county clerk's office. The deed is in your wife's name. She is the owner of record. You have been served and you are legally bound to vacate the premises."
"Do I get to pack a bag or two?"
"Of course, you get to take your clothes and any other items that are yours, exclusively. Joint property will remain in the residence until such time as you contest or decide to sign the papers," Michael told him.
"What's to stop her from selling off the joint property?"
"I have her word to me she won't. She only wants half. If it's yours she doesn't want it. If it is joint property, you and her will have to decide who gets it or who pays who for it or to sell and split the sale price."
"You have her word? That's a good one."
"She isn't the one who broke her vows of marriage, is she?" Michael asked.
"Fuck you," my husband said rising and going to the bedroom.
Michael followed as did I.
"Well shit, you two going to watch every move I make?"
"Yes," Michael said curtly. "Or we could have the sheriff's deputies come in and they will only let you take your clothes and toilet articles. Which would you prefer?"
"Fine."
He pulled his luggage out of the closet and started to pack. It took him an hour to finish. In all, he took just what the deputies would have let him have.