Unexpected Promotion (feb Sucs)

This is an entry into Literotica's

Valentine's Day Story Contest 2024

.

It's February, with a 29th this year. What does that remind us of? That's right, the belated Valentine's Day saga of the Carlisles. For the ones tempted to roll their eyes and say, "Oh no, not another Febsux story!" good news: you're forewarned, and Literotica has several thousand other stories to read. Go, enjoy! And who knows, come March, maybe the torrent will subside.

Once more, a tip of the hat to GeorgeAnderson for his February Sucks story (https://www.literotica.com/s/February-sucks) and blanket permission to add on to it. As most people know, this is arguably the most "added to" story on the entire site, probably because of the provocative trigger - the blatant disrespect by the wife. Oh, and the reconciliation ending, too.

Several commenters on several of these Febsux add-ons scoff that no wife would do that, which made me go back to the original, and the author's explanation of what triggered it. You can find my summary in a previous story (https://literotica.com/s/february-sucks-lindas-welcome). No sense repeating it. Bottom line: they do.

So, here's another way that provocative story could have played out. It inevitably will contain ideas from the myriad other endings. A tip of the hat to those authors, too. But hopefully the way they are combined makes for something original, and enjoyable.

This story starts after the debacle at the hotel and club

On the way home I went over what happened. The hurt crushed my soul. Not even tipsy, let alone drunk, she'd looked me in the eye straight-faced and lied, to quote Rod Stewart, saying she had to go to the bathroom. Then walked out the door to go fuck the male slut football player all night long. Just like that. Actions speaking louder than words, what she said was (a) she'd found someone better to go home with and (b) I wasn't worth the respect to tell me she was leaving me.

Oof, that hurt.

Everyone who saw me, humiliated and devastated as she cuckolded me in real time, wondered what I was going to do. Hell, even I wondered.

I had no idea.

What could I do? As I saw it, not much. Except... my boss at the regional office had called me just before I left early for tonight's party. Big news: he'd just been promoted to a VP position at head office, and he called to offer me his position. Wow, elation doesn't even begin to describe how I felt. I'd been in my job for seven years, putting in the hours for a promotion like this.

I told him I'd have to talk to my wife about it, because it would involve a move to the firm's regional office in Freudenburg. I didn't think that would be a problem, but... I'd planned to run it by Linda over the weekend, after we'd caught up on our snowed-out Valentine's Day celebration tonight.

Well, Linda's exit stage left had just made accepting a no-brainer. Linda who?

On the way home, I called Mrs. Porter and told her something came up and I'd pick the kids up tonight. Then I called Linda's parents and told them I'm bringing the kids over.

"Why, what's going on?" her father, an ardent LaValliere fan, asked.

"Linda left me tonight for your hero, Marc LaValliere. At this very moment, she's in his bed having sex with him."

"What? Is this your idea of a joke?"

"Oh, I wish. Nope, that idea is all hers, Dad." Keeping my voice flat, I related the sequence from the dance, through her lying to me about the bathroom to leaving with his hero. "If you don't believe me, feel free to check it out. She's not with me or the kids, and she's not at home, although her car is. If you call her, she won't answer because she turned off her phone. Oh, and if something would happen to one of your grandchildren, she'd be unreachable. What kind of mother does that?

"One of her friends told me he will return her tomorrow sometime. Wet and droopy, like a used teabag, would be my guess. Apparently, he does this all the time. I think someone told me Linda is his 27th or 28th willing target. If you want, you can wait at the house and witness it, maybe even get an autograph."

No reaction, except muted voices as he related the gist to his wife.

Continuing, I said. "Because I don't know how long your hero will keep doing nasty things to your daughter, I won't be there, so I'm picking up the kids and bringing them to you. Linda clearly doesn't care about them. I'm pulling up to the babysitter now, so expect me in about twenty minutes."

Mrs. Porter had the kids ready. "Jim, what happened?"

Her hands flew to her mouth at my Readers Digest version. "I can't believe it!"

With each retelling my pain receded, replaced by a growing anger. "Neither did I, ma'am, neither did I. As you can imagine, I have no idea when she will be done with her new boyfriend to pick up the kids tomorrow, so I want to get them to her parents before it gets too late." Leaving her a big tip, I took off.

"Where's Mommy?" Emma asked, wide awake.

What to say? Since we'd taught them honesty was the best policy, I decided to stick to the facts, and said, "Mommy left with another man to go to his house. That hurt me deeply. I want you to know I'm very sorry, but I love you very much and I will never, never stop loving both of you."

"No!!! Daddy, please don't go away!" She tried to squirm out of her car seat.

"I don't want to, sweet potato, believe me, but now we have to do the best we can."

To say the reception I got at Linda's parents' was frosty would set a new standard in understatements. By now, though, anger had taken over my hurt, and I didn't give a continental crap about what they thought. Without a word, I handed a crying Emma and sleeping Tommy to them and left before they could give me a hard time.

Their daughter cheated on me and

I'm

the bad guy? I don't think so, Tim.

--

When I got home, I looked in the liquor cabinet and closed it immediately. Nope. I still hadn't answered the critical question: what am I going to do? Alcohol might give me comfort, but no clarity, and I needed a clear head.

After making a pot of coffee to stay awake, I poured a cup and walked into my study. While my computer fired up, I shook my head at the hurt the narcissistic bitch was raining down on the kids while she spread her legs for an orgasm or two.

The email from work with the new job caught my eye. That's right, Linda never gave me the opportunity to tell her about the offer.

At that moment, she probably was in bed, with Jocko Asshole pumping his iron inside of her, so I didn't expect her to answer, but I called on the off-chance. Nope, voicemail. Not bothering with that, I took my time to compose a text message, which she'd see tomorrow sometime... if she bothered.

By the time you read this, I'll be gone. Looking me in the eye and lying before you took off with your new fuckbuddy told me I'm not good enough for you anymore. Actions louder than words.

Fine. I'll make it easy for you and get out of your way. You are free to spend the whole weekend with your new heartthrob, or is it pussythrob? Just think of all the lovely and memorable orgasms you can get now. The kids are with your parents, so knock yourself out.

I would say good-bye, but there's no good left in the bye.

As long as we've been together, I've been hit on a lot, but I stayed faithful, because I loved you. I lived under the delusion you loved me too. Stupid me. Tonight stunned me beyond description, and I have no words. Not just the betrayal, but the cruel, cowardly way you pre-planned and executed it. Wow, who knew you were so evil? Stunning.

I'm taking another job in another town, and I'll be moving next week. My divorce lawyer will contact you.

After hitting Send, I opened my Facebook account and composed another message. Because I knew I had to live with the consequences, I tried to avoid inflammatory rhetoric and stick to the facts.

Last night Linda and I went out to Morrison's with friends for a special night to make up for the Valentine's Day celebration we'd missed due to the weather. A special night. Linda told everyone all her dances were saved for me. Then she left me on the dance floor with Marc LaValliere (yes, that Marc LaValliere). Check around, someone might have a video of what happened.

Apparently, Mr. LaValliere does this often. The worst thing to me is not that LaValliere appears to have such an evil system in place, aided and abetted by club staff and teammates, but that Linda was so eager she hatched an elaborate plan and executed it to perfection. She turned off her phone so if something were to happen to her kids she would be unreachable. You decide what kind of mother does this.

I hope you can understand I can't stay with someone who thinks treating a husband like this is okay.

Knowing the courts will give her the house and custody of the kids, I've decided to get out of the way. I don't want to explain this decision over and over, which is why I'm posting it here so everyone knows what happened. And so... goodbye.

Jim.

After marking my status 'single,' and adding 'with Linda' to reach her followers, I hit Submit, whipped out suitcases and boxes, and got packing. It didn't take nearly as long as I'd expected. Most of the stuff in the house was either Linda's or chosen for Linda. In fact, everything revolved around her. Not that I minded, I loved her. But I never realized until that night how one-sided our love was. All I had was some clothes, not even that many, some tools and some electronics.

When I was done, fatigue finally caught up with me and I flopped onto my bed, probably for the last time.

--

Saturday morning, the alarm woke me at eight, and it became action stations. I called moving companies, hoping against hope at least one would not be slammed with people moving at month-end. Maybe it was the cold, but the fourth company I called had storage and moving capacity, so I had them come right away and pick up everything. Because I didn't have much, that went a lot easier than I expected.

While I waited for the movers and their smallest van, I called my parents and brought them up to speed. They lived close to Freudenburg, so their reaction was bittersweet. Happy to have me closer, but bummed it was only me. They loved Linda and the grandkids and were sad about the breakup.

"Are you sure about this?" my mother asked.

"I can't stay with someone who disregards me like that. It's not just the cheating, bad though that is, but the cruel disrespect. Mom, she looked me in the eye, lied and took off to go screw someone else. She can't even claim she was drunk, I was there. Would you stay with dad if he did that you?"

A sad sigh was my only answer. "Come stay with us on the way, you hear?"

"Thanks mom, I look forward to seeing you guys again."

My boss took my Saturday call and, not surprisingly, was happy with my decision. It came with a substantial raise, but I asked him to not change my pay yet, but wait until my divorce was final, then give me my accrued raise as a bonus. No problem, he said. The company would pay for the move, and let me stay for two months, rent-free, at a furnished apartment they kept for visitors and transfers, and we agreed to meet Wednesday morning to get settled into the new job. I had to let my team know Monday and hand over to the gal I had in mind to take my place. Until I left, they'd pay for my stay in the Marriott close to work.

The moving truck left, but before I could, my in-laws arrived with the kids.

After welcoming them in, I started the coffeemaker. The kids raced across the street to play with their friends, and Linda's mother sidled up to me. "Jim, are you sure you're not overreacting?"

"Mom, look around. She's not here. What kind of woman just walks out to go spread her legs for a stranger, and makes herself unavailable if something were to happen to her kids? Hang around for a while and you'll see him bring her back. She'll still be wearing the blue dress from last night. Maybe she'll have showered this morning so she doesn't smell like, well, you know what. But," I turned to make sure her father heard this too, "I won't be here. I'm leaving. I will not be disrespected by her and her asshole of a fuckbuddy."

Both their breaths drew in. I'd never used foul language in their presence before.

With a final look around the house, I gathered my keys. "Look, I'm sorry you have to witness this. I'm completely innocent. This is all on her. Bye mom, bye dad."

I crossed the street to say goodbye to my kids and left with tears running down my cheeks. Who knew when I'd see them again?

--

I was able to get an early check-in at the Marriott, probably because most of their clientele are businesspeople, who only use the hotel during the workweek.

Opening my laptop, I logged into our home security system. It had decent resolution and, most important for me, an internet connection, so I could monitor it in real time, as well as record everything.

Good timing. I had just tuned in to the front porch camera when I heard a roar. A red Ferrari Daytona convertible pulled in. A classic, worth millions. Apparently oblivious to her parents' car at the curb, she leaned over and laid a big fat kiss on the asshole, thoroughly cleaning his tonsils, and taking her time doing it.

Asshole got out and walked her to the front door. Probably expecting me, she opened the door, smack dab into her angry father. "Dad? What are you doing here? This is--"

"I know who he is. Up until this morning I was a big fan, and I didn't believe Jim when he told us."

Turning to LaValliere, he said, "What a despicable asshole you are. Get the hell out of here before I do something I'll regret."

Asshole scoffed loudly. "Ha. You and what army, old man?"

To everyone's shock, including mine, Linda's dad brought out a pistol of some sort and aimed it at Asshole. "This army, you slimy pig. Git!"

Asshole backed up, hands held up to his shoulders. He got in his car and sped away.

"Daddy! What got into you?" Linda cried.

"You wanna know? Disgust got into me. Question is what got into you? I can't believe you're my flesh and blood. Get upstairs, take a shower and put on some decent clothes. If I didn't see it with my own eyes, I would not have believed you are such a cheating slut. I almost slugged Jim when he told me, but sadly he was right. I'm ashamed to have you as a daughter."

"But dadd--"

"I said go clean up that skank body of yours!" he thundered. "I don't want to hear a word from your cheating ass mouth."

Linda burst into tears and crept up the stairs.

"Did you have to be that harsh?" her mother asked.

"Are you gonna defend that stunt?" he growled as he put his firearm back into his belt.

"Don't be crazy, but she still is our daughter."

"To our shame," he said, shaking his head in disappointment and fetching his mug for a refill.

When Linda came down, dressed in a simple blouse and jeans, she must have decided to take the offensive. "It was only one night, dad, why are you overreacting? When did you get a gun? Aren't you afraid it might go off?"

"Wait a minute!" His voice rose again. "Are you saying it's okay to cheat on your good husband if you only do it one night at a time?"

This fly on the wall shit was awesome. I'd never heard her parents talk to her outside of my hearing. Nice to know they agreed with me, even if they didn't show me. Blood thicker than water, I suppose.

Linda did the fish gape thing. "I--"

"Where did you hear that crap?" He turned to his wife. "Were you the one who told her cheating is okay?"

Her mother's eyes grew huge. "Never! She had to be listening to someone else. You know me, I would never pull something like that."

Linda's father glared at Linda. "Who told you cheating is okay?"

"Nobody. Why would you think--" I noticed Linda offered up no defense to cheating.

"Because we didn't raise you like that, that's why. And no sane, rational human being could think up crap like adultery is okay in one-night doses. Do you realize what you've done?"

"What?" Linda looked around. "Where are Emma and Tommy?"

"They're with the Bermans across the street, but Jim is gone. He's already packed up everything that was his and he left you. Forever. I believe he already told you."

"No, he didn--" Frantic, she reached into her purse and took out her phone and turned it on. It emitted a stream of beeped notifications of messages, voicemails and other.

Her mother chimed in, obviously not impressed. "What? You had your phone turned off until now? It's not bad enough you're screwing a stranger, but what if Emma or Tommy had an accident and were in the hospital, how would anybody have gotten hold of you? What kind of irresponsible mother are you?" Her voice raised a few decibels. "Answer me, you lowlife slut!"

Linda stood frozen in horror. I guess this was when the reality of her stupidity hit her. "I... I... I thought the kids would be safe with Mrs. Porter. Are they okay?"

"Yes, but no thanks to you," her mom answered. "You have no idea how bitterly you disappointed me, Linda. If someone would have told me yesterday I had such a piece of trash for a daughter, I would have beaten them with a rolling pin. Fortunately, Jim had the presence of mind to bring your kids to us."

"Where is Jim?" Linda was on the verge of tears.

"Gone, you miserable bitch," her father answered. "What part of gone don't you understand? One of the best men I've ever known. A man of character, he always put you first, loved you, spoiled you, cared for you, always had your back. Dependable, faithful, always making sure his family was taken care of. And how do you reward him? By disrespecting him and cheating on him like a classless hussy. Now he's gone. Shame on you. You chased him away. Now you're probably going to look to us to help you sort this out. Let me answer that before you even ask. You're on your own. You made this shitpile of a bed, now you sleep in the shit. You wanted to be a single mom? Don't complain to us about it, you sorry excuse for a person."

He took a deep breath. "I'm leaving. Wife, are you coming?"

Linda's mother didn't say anything, just shook her head slowly, took her husband's hand and headed out the door with him.

Suddenly alone, Linda looked around and picked up her phone.

I heard it ringing on my hotel room desk and let it go to voicemail. I didn't have to check, because the alarm system relayed it directly. "Hi Jim, I'm back. Where are you?"

After a few seconds I sent a text message:

Gone.

Where? Why?

None of your business. Last night you made it none of your business when you left to fuck a stranger.

But that's over. I'm back. We can get over that and move forward.

Brilliant idea! Here is how we're getting over it: I'm divorcing you. Now you can go fuck your asshole dick as often as you like. See how nice I am?

I don't love him. I only love you.

Really? Let's see. Last time you told me something you were going to the bathroom. I believed you. How did that work out for me? Let me tell you. I learned for the first time what a cold-hearted, cowardly, cruel and vile human you are. Oh, I forgot liar. You lied to me last night, straight-faced. Worked out great for you, not so great for me. So... forgive me for not believing a word you say any more. But not to worry. You're free now. You can go fuck your asshole player anytime. In fact, he might even do you again tonight. Give him a call.

My phone rang. I didn't answer it. Over the security system on the laptop I heard her say, "Pick up, you miserable fuckhead." Loved me indeed. Yeah, right.

--

After turning off the phone, I drove to a park and took a run on its three-mile loop track. Afterward, I turned my phone back on. Curious, I opened my Facebook mobile app to see if my post had any feedback.