I had written part 4 already, but after reading the comments, I decided to so a re-write and skip to the end of the story, to make the readers happy. This was originally going to be a 12 part story delving into the psychology of cheating behavior, and in Lisa's case, Multiple Personality Disorder. Maybe I will return to these parts later, but for the moment, in an effort to keep the readers happy, I will move on. For those of you who are looking for the happy ending, it doesn't happen. The best we can do is make our own happy ending
So, I will be jumping straight to the divorce, and recap the remaining years. This portion is 100% factual, so please understand that divorce rarely ends well for men. This is my real life so please be aware that negative comments are not appreciated. I have opened myself up in an attempt to heal from the past 30 years worth of wounds.
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I found myself sitting in the lobby of our county courthouse. We had been married for six years. Six long, hard, years. I struggled with my conscious about what I was about to do. I had always been raised to love and respect my wife. Divorce was always the very last option. I gulped, as I saw my lawyer pass through the hallway. She had been trying to work out a last minute agreement with Lisa's lawyer. So far, it has been unsuccessful.
I lost myself in thought as I thought about how I got here. A year and a half ago, we were living in Chicago. We had some struggles, in the beginning, but eventually we found our rhythm and found ourselves happily married. Our son was born, premature, but healthy, and became the center of our world. I loved them both with all my heart, but then, that fateful evening occurred.
I was working second shift as a low level engineer in a massive technology company. I pulled into the parking lot of our apartment building, and found a parking spot in the back. I got out, and shut the car door, I was approached by three men, asking for a smoke. I didn't smoke, and I said so. At this point, two of them grabbed me, slammed me against my car, and the third began to punch me.
Now let me tell a little about myself, for those who don't know me. I am 6 foot tall, and heavily muscled. Although I live in Chicago now, I grew up on an Indiana dairy farm. I spent my summers bailing hay, chopping wood, and shoveling manure. Another important point to make, as I was being punched, is a little about my step dad.
My parents divorced when I was three, and the man my mother was cheating on him with, immediately moved in. He was an amateur boxer, who had earned the chance to go pro. He had a huge reputation and was believed to be world champion material. Unfortunately, he was also an alcoholic and drug addict. Long story short, he failed a drug test, and was banned from fighting. He lost his shot, but vowed to stay in fighting condition and one day get his chance to return.
I grew up as his sparring partner. That might sound exciting, but in reality, it was just a nice way of saying that he got drunk every night and beat me. Of course, yes I learned how to fight too. But a young kid against a drunk adult, was never a fair fight. This came to a head, when I was in fourth grade. Another boy was trying to act cool, and decided to pick a fight with me. It ended with him going to the hospital and I was sent to the principal to get beat. The boy ended up with a broken jaw, several broken ribs, and a serious concussion. He had to stay in the hospital for several nights, for observation and possible brain damage. He did recover, but he never looked me in the eyes ever again.
Obviously this incident caused a lot of drama, and there was many repercussions directed towards me. Ultimately, it was determined that I needed to learn how to control my temper. I was enrolled in a local Karate class, where I learned not only how to fight, but also how "not" to fight. This training has persisted to the present day, where 41 years later, I own a school and currently teach.
So, back to this moment. I was shoved up against my car, held in place by two men, and a third punched me in the abs. As can be guessed, this didn't last long. I kicked the guy in front of me away, broke the grip of the two holding me, and I commenced to breaking them into pieces. Within moments, they were both on the ground bleeding and the third man, stood up, and reached into his jacket. He ran towards me, and I saw a glint of metal. I grabbed him and slammed his head through the glass window, in my car door. I walked back to my apartment and called the police.
Once they arrived, the three men were transported to the hospital, and I was taken to jail. My wife, Lisa, refused to pay my bail, so I had to sit there for two weeks, while the doctors, at the hospital, were busy trying to save one of the attacker's life. As it turned out, slamming his head through the window, caused the jagged glass to slice his throat. The police were waiting to determine if I would be charged with assault or manslaughter.
To my surprise, after the investigation was completed, and the attacker was stabilized, I was released with all charges dropped. I was soon informed that the attack was caused due to marital infidelity. The man who nearly died, had been having an affair with my wife, and when she refused to leave me, to be with him, he decided to take matters into his own hands.
I obviously immediately moved out and filed for divorce. Due to separation laws, in Illinois, we were required to be legally separated for six months prior to scheduling a court date. During this time, it was also recommended that we attended a marriage counselor to try to work through our issues, prior to destroying the life of our child.