Let me first start off by saying, my wife is a cunt. We got married way too young and had absolutely no ability... whatsoever. I should have known. The moment we saw each other, she was smitten with me. I guess I reminded her of her father, the loyal responsible one who did everything for everyone, all the time.
Fast forward to six months into our relationship, when I ask her why she's hanging out with her ex-boyfriend while I'm at work. Of course, she took offense to my insinuations, but I was pretty spot on. Luckily for me, and for her I guess, she was already pregnant. I guess in her mind, that gave her a free pass to fuck and suck every Tom, dick, and Harry that came along because, once you're pregnant, it's not like you can get pregnant again!
I was young, dumb, and full of cum. I had absolutely no idea how to handle a woman. Now, looking back on it, I should have dumped her ass and requested a paternity test once Megan was born, but... I don't know. I guess I just couldn't bring myself to that point.
I guess I also figured that, once we were married and the baby was here, everything would kind of fall into place. Lock in, like a jigsaw puzzle. Instead, it stayed like the fucking puzzle in the box! Only on the rare occasion did my piece touch hers, but god damn if every other fucking piece in the box didn't come into contact...
Sorry. I just get so fucking upset sometimes.
After ten years of complete and utter agony, I filed for divorce. I hated to do it, but I couldn't take it anymore. I was doing everything to move ahead, to become a better person, get a better paying job, and more benefits, and what did Tina tell me? "You're never home! You said you'd take me shopping! I thought you were going to buy me a new car with your bonus?" The bitch couldn't save money, to save her ass. She spent money on stupid bullshit like spending money was an addiction, and even after we divorced, she tried to keep it up.
I went right in front of the judge and showed him five years of receipts where she bought stupid overpriced shit while neglecting to pay for things we needed, like food and toiletries, and school clothes. When the judge asked me why I didn't spend the money on those things, I told him straight-faced, "Judge. I have my time cards as well. I'm working 80 hours a week to try and pay the bills, and she just keeps spending and spending and spending. I leave for work before the stores open. I come home after they're closed. I can't even take time off to go to school events, because if I do, the credit card bills will go late."
Faced with the information, and the proof, there was no way the judge could not see it. He found in my favor, and we had a clean break, with the exception of Megan. I agreed to pay 25% of my pay for Megan to be taken care of, and only because Tina wasn't working. The judge made it clear, that Tina had to get a job, at least a part-time job, but because she was the primary caregiver, I would end up paying. I agreed.
Fast forward another five years. I'm in a much better place. I'm successful, I've got a nice car and a nice house. I ask Megan if she wants to come over for a weekend or two, but every time I ask, the answer is always the same; "Increase your child support payments, and we'll talk."
Well, I was still paying 25% of my income to Tina, so the answer was immediately "fuck no", but at some point, I think Megan began to see through her mother's bullshit.
When Megan turned thirteen, I knew I was going to have trouble with her, but her mother was completely oblivious, as always. I thought Megan needed tutoring, while Tina said she needed to "grow up" and learn about "real life shit". In my opinion, this meant Tina wanted her daughter to become proficient in whoring herself out, like her mother, and I was adamantly against such a thing.
I immediately filed for expanded parental rights and visitation, shared custody, and a reduction in child support. None of it would have mattered much, but when Tina heard the reduction in child support, she went ape shit. I kinda knew she would. We went to court once again, and I told the judge, I was willing to take the reduction in child support off the table, as long as I got to see my daughter more often, because, in my opinion, she wasn't receiving the guidance she needed to become a productive member of society. When I showed the judge Megan's report card scores, and the correlation between declining test scores, increased absence, and an increase in incidents requiring corrective measures, the judge once again, found in my favor.
Over the past five years, I've made it very clear to Megan, that if she decided she needed to leave her mother's "home" for any reason, she would always have a place with me, at mine. I also made it clear, that if she took me up on the offer, she needed to keep in mind, I require respect and obedience. No mouthing off. No disappearing and not telling me where she's going. None of that. And no boyfriends, no smoking or drinking, and absolutely, no drugs.
Surprisingly, Megan never took me up on the offer. Not when she got kicked out of her mother's house because of some argument they had. I ended up calling Tina and acting as the negotiator for Megan's return, but Megan never once said she wanted to stay with me.
Aside from the regular visitations, I got to take Megan on alternating weekends, and for alternating holidays, for the last five years. I never forced Megan to come to my home or celebrate any specific holiday with me, and for the first year, it was pretty rocky. Megan didn't want to follow the rules. She didn't want to pick up after herself. She wanted to make snide comments and, in general, act just like her mother did. But after a while, being like that, seemed to take its toll on Megan.
In the second year, Megan stopped complaining so much. She started taking care of her things and being more polite. The third and fourth years seemed to be a struggle, and only because she was choosing to come to stay with me every time I was allowed to have her, rather than staying at her mother's. And then, this past year, everything exploded.
Megan made it very clear that, while she wasn't going to move out of her mother's house, she didn't want to be there any longer. Her mother had taken in a boyfriend who was much older than she was, and, according to Megan, he was not a nice person. He was rude, condescending, disrespectful, ignorant, and abusive.
I asked Megan a hundred times if this guy, Chuck is his name, if Chuck ever abused her, and she told me no. I made sure to routinely ask her this, and she replied no each time, so either Chuck knew what the limitations were, or Megan was doing a damn good job of being out of Chuck's sight, and out of his mind.
When Megan turned eighteen just before Halloween this year, I asked her if she wanted to come to my house and hand out Halloween candy. She said she was going to stay at home because she and a few of her friends were going to be attending a Halloween party, and so I said "Fine. But if you need anything. If you need a ride, or you change your mind, you know my number."
When Halloween came and went, I heard nothing. I figured Megan had a good time and everything was fine, until on the second of November, I got a phone call. It was Megan, and she sounded drunk.
"Daddy?" She said, her words slurred just a bit. "Daddy. I need your help."
"Where are you?" I asked, already putting on my pants and shirt, and rushing down the stairs to grab my keys.
She gave me the address as best she could, and in seconds I was on my way there, racing as if I had to get to the hospital for an emergency C-section.
When I got to the neighborhood where Megan was, I found her meandering around by the security guard shack, which was unoccupied. As soon as I pulled up, she got in and I could tell she'd been crying.
"Is everything okay?" I asked quickly. "Do I need to call the cops?"
"No. Just... can you take me home?" She asked, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes with her sleeve cuffs.
As I pulled onto the highway and headed back, she confessed to me that she'd been drinking. She and a bunch of her friends had gone to a Halloween Party at a friend's house and had gotten plastered. One of their friends was upstairs having sex with multiple boys at the same time, right then, as she was telling me, and I was shocked to my core, but Megan said her friend was a willing participant.
"But she's drunk," I told Megan. "It's not right if she's drunk."
Megan didn't seem to understand or agree with my point, but after a few seconds, I dropped it. I was just happy to have my daughter, back in my custody, where she was safe. That was all that mattered.
