Behind the Closet Door Ch. 03

"Oh honey, by the way, I was thinking I might go to happy hour afterwork with the team. You're welcome to come if you want. Veronica's having a sleep-over at Sally's."

I stared at her blankly for a pretty long time. Long enough that she shot me a confused look from behind her coffee mug.

"You alright?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"I'm going to come back after I drop her off... Don't leave until I get back, we need to talk." I heard her begin to respond in a panicked tone as I closed the door a bit harder than necessary – cutting her off mid-word.

I took the long way home; and yet I still found myself back at my front door in the blink of an eye. With a massive sigh I opened the front door. Victoria was sitting at the kitchen table with her arms crossed, ready to let me have it.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" She began, "Why are you being all ominous and shit, Jim. I've been freaking out, what's going on?" She was seriously playing dumb... again. Does she think I'm an idiot, does she think I forgot? Is she trying to throw me off balance? I don't know but I was fucking over it, before it started.

"Am I that big of an asshole?" I said, cutting her off. She stopped for a second, confused.

"... What?"

"Am I that big of an asshole?" I repeated louder. She stared blankly and shrugged – motioning me to elaborate.

"Did you really think you could run around behind my back like that AGAIN? With the same fucking guy." I said well above 'inside voice' levels. At least she knew she was caught and receded.

"The first time was shocking enough, Victoria, but again? Just over a year later? You're something else, you know? Why? We were doing so well, I did everything you wanted. We – we... just fucking why?" I was slowly losing my rage and gaining dejection. What was the fucking point of grilling her, when I knew everything I needed to?

"I - I don't know Jim. I'm sorry." She responded to the floor.

"Don't throw that bullshit at me. You were sorry the first time. You don't get to do it again and apologize, you bitch." calling her a bitch to her face felt really good. "You stupid fucking bitch." It felt really good. Normally calling her a bitch would light a fire that would quickly grow to an inferno, but not this time.

"I don't have an excuse... there's something wrong with me. I don't know... just... I don't know..." She began crying.

"I don't want an excuse. I want the truth. You owe me that at least. For all this bullshit., you owe me that." I said walking closer to her.

She said something at barely a whisper.

"You're gonna need to speak into the mic on this one." I said ready to strangle her for making this so much more difficult than it had to be.

She looked up at me with red eyes and mascara running a little. Her hair was still pristine as was everything else surrounding her eyes.

She looked straight into my eyes and with the most pained voice I've heard from anyone said, "I just don't love you anymore, Jim!"

It was as though someone had shot me through the heart and head at the same time. My body crumbled. I was on my knees, staring at nothing processing the words at a mile a minute.

"I'm sorry she said as she stood up and walked into our daughter's room and closed the door, clicking the lock.

I stood up a few minutes later – it only took a million years – I grabbed the suitcase and bag I had packed earlier when I still had feelings, and walked out the door to my car and drove to a cheap motel just off of the 10. It was dingy, but then so was I.

...

As much as I wanted to walk to the liquor store down the block and buy whatever the best shit they had in stock was; I refrained. I knew it would have turned this situation nuclear, and nobody needed that. What I did notice immediately upon walking in to the room was that I was fucking exhausted. I took off my shoes, fell on the bed, and passed out. Nightmares tore me apart and I awoke startled, with no idea where I was. As the bedside alarm clock came into focus, I began to regain my footing – I would have preferred to not have it.

Two-time slut of a wife who doesn't love me anymore, a cheap motel, and no booze. What a winning hand you had, Jim. Fuck. The clock said 12:30am I suppose it was lucky that Veronica was going to a sleep over. I decided I may as well try and eat something. I grabbed my jacket and felt a lump in the pocket. The old iPhone.

I opened the lock screen to the instrument of my doom – I was at the home screen, looking over the apps again; I went to Whatsapp. New messages, of course there were. She had texted him about six hours ago.

Evee: "He know everything, he left me. Imso lost right now." Now, far be it from me to try and get into the mind of someone as fucked in the head as my soon-to-be ex-wife, but why the fuck would she go straight to him after fucking him was the cause of this? I could tell from her typos she was probably drunk though. And it had been a few hours since I left the house, so I suppose it was clear I wasn't interested in coming back anytime soon.

JJ: "Oh shit, I'm sorry to hear that, are you okay?" Like he gave a fuck, the asshole.

Evee: "No I can't stop crying. I have no dy to turn to. who could possibly be on my side after this? I'm such a shity person" Well she was spot on about that part, I guess.

JJ: "You're not a shitty person. You were just lost and scared, we all make mistakes, even big ones, you'll get past this I promise."

Evee: "It really doesn't feel like I will"

JJ: "I know, but you will, if you need anything, I'm here for you."

Evee: "Thanks, Jay. But I really shoult be talking to you right now I just need to be alone."

JJ: "Did you want to come over, it might be better than being alone."

Twenty minutes passed according to the chatlog

JJ: "You shouldn't be alone right now, let me know where you are, I'm ready to head out."

Evee: "No, Jay. That really isn't a food idea."

JJ: "Come on, babe. Let me keep you company, it'll cheer you up."

Evee: "Location pin dropped."

JJ: "See you soon, hang in there."

So that was it then, I guess. Jay ran over to her while she was drunk and sad and now, he's going to fuck her. I was staring at the screen so long it turned black. The glossy black of the screen created a mirror and I was staring back at my pathetic face – I knew for sure my next phone was going to be an Android. I knew what I had to do, I got up, zipped up my jacket and walked out of the dingy motel door.

Ten minutes later I kicked the motel door back open with a bag full of cheap beer and a bottle of shitty whiskey and a bottle of halfway decent tequila. I chased the whiskey with beer; and the beer with the tequila; and the tequila with the whiskey; and the whiskey with the beer and the beer; with the tequila; until I could no longer keep my head above my shoulders; and then more, until I could no longer keep my shoulders above my waist.

I woke up and the clock said 11:30am. Needless to say I felt like shit. I checked the slot between the minifridge and the wall and grabbed my phone and the old iPhone. Right, that. My phone had about two dozen missed calls – I realized I never checked it yesterday. All were from my wife. There were a few texts, all saying permutations of "I'm so sorry" and "where are you" I did notice the calls and the texts started around 2:00pm and stopped around 6:00pm and then started back up around 9:00am today. Enough time to get drunk and get fucked by your loverboy. Awesome.

I picked up the old iPhone – I was really learning to hate Apple – the Whatsapp had nothing in it, why would it after all? I went to the homescreen and the 'photos' tile caught my eye. I opened it, there were old pictures from years ago of Veronica, her, and me, happy. Veronica was tiny – still a toddler basically. Now she was a full-blown kid, man, I wish I could go back to those days. As I was at the most recent photos this phone had taken, I was going to close it when "Download from iCloud" appeared at the bottom. I pressed it and watched as a sea of thumbnails from the past five years (this was a pretty old phone two years ago, so I'm surprised it even turns on) or so loaded onto the device. Between the shitty motel's shitty wifi and the age of the phone I knew it would take a few minutes. I walked to the 7-Eleven across from the liquor store and got a coffee. I was mumbling to myself the whole time. All things considered, I imagine I didn't look too out of place.

The pictures had loaded in, and the most recent ones made my already aching head get hot with rage. The screen was a flood of flesh tones, all told, there were fifteen pictures added from yesterday/today. I opened the first and there he was, Jay. Standing at the edge of a big bed completely naked, with his dick pointing out a pride-smashing distance from his body, I recognized his smug face from his Facebook, I knew before this was over, I was going to get at least one hit on that stupid fucking face.

The next picture, still in the POV of my wife, he was between her legs, his cock visibly at the entrance of her pussy... her now completely shaved pussy. The next picture switched perspectives and he was halfway in, she was on her back and her face was a vision of ecstasy, her hair flared out behind her head, as though underlining her face against the white of the bedspread.

The rest of the photos followed in the same vein as the previous three. One was of her lips wrapped around that massive dick, with her whole face in view; following that one was one with her face blasted in his cum – she was smiling very wide through the viscous white splattering. I had somehow entered a sort of trance state, where all I was doing was emotionlessly piling evidence and information. If I were actually processing any of this on any visceral level, I would have either ended up killing myself or tearing this motel into pieces.

I copied everything, screenshotted every exchange on WhatsApp and copied every lurid photo of hers onto my laptop. California is a no-fault divorce state, but this shit would still give me leverage to get her to comply and make the inevitable split as amicable as possible, for a marriage that has gone up in flames so spectacularly. After everything was saved, I stared at the half empty liquor bottles and took a shot or two.

...

I called my lawyer friend and explained the abridged version to him. He gave me the advice that I knew he would and said he'd write up the terms we discussed and send them to me 'soon.'

I knew that Veronica was probably still at her friend's house. I texted Victoria and asked her when we were supposed to pick up our daughter. She answered me right away, 2:00pm, I still had an hour and a half. She also asked where I was, apologized and said she was sorry for locking herself away and ignoring the problem. She of course neglected to mention fucking her coworker. I only responded with a short "I'll pick her up."

I called my parents and my in-laws, those were probably the two hardest conversations I've ever had – and they were back to back, awesome. My father in-law asked what we were going to do with Veronica for the time being. I knew she needed to be at home the next day to get ready for school on Tuesday; but I also knew Victoria and I were going to have a very serious talk the next time I walked in that house. Luckily, he offered to watch her while Victoria and I 'sorted this out.'

With that issue being resolved, I picked up my daughter and dropped her off at my soon-to-be former father-in-law's house. He didn't ask about anything but had a very somber tone in his brief greeting. With that out of the way, and nothing else I could use to put it off, I drove home.

I pulled up to my formerly happy home at around 3:30 pm, Victoria's car was in the driveway, and my breathing became very heavy, adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I wanted to run as far away from this place as possible. But, I walked in the front door.

"Hey," I called out, "I'm here." As I walked into the kitchen; I saw that the coffee was on and still hot – I'd probably need that. Then I thought about it and realized this meant she had a late wake as well. For much different reasons than mine. Whore.

"Hey..." my wife said as she entered the kitchen. She was wearing her robe over pajamas. She normally looked good in everything, except not today. Today she looked like shit. Her eyes were red and puffy, under them were dark circles and she looked noticeably paler than usual. She was pulled back into her robe, arms crossed. She looked broken; I relished in it for a moment. After all this shit, she earned every bit of shame she's feeling right now.

We stared at each other for a while, until I finally broke the silence.

"How long?"

"How long what?" She asked.

"How long wha – how fucking long have you been back to messaging that fucker?!" I said losing my cool at her trying to ignore the obvious. I hammered into her verbally explaining that I know what she's been doing, and I knew she met up with him, that I'm not such a clueless idiot, and throw a few more "sluts" and "whores" at her after reminding her that she straight up told me she doesn't love me anymore.

"... I guess... I deserved that" she said in a low voice after a few starts and stops where she was going to try to rewrite the past when she dropped the bomb on me. "Does she know?" She followed up with, thinking better and opting to deflect the original question.

"No, but she's not stupid. I'm sure she felt something was off when I picked her up." Victoria shuddered at the thought. Apparently, she hadn't factored in the repercussions this would have on our daughter.

"Who else knows?" She choked out through sobs.

"My parents, your parents... and anybody they've told." I said robotically. "Also, Steven knows. I'm hiring him, speaking of, you're not going to be a pain in the ass about this divorce are you." To her credit, she opted not to argue with me or act surprised that this is what was happening.

"Please... just don't take my baby away from me." Was all she said after letting that sink in.

"I wouldn't do that, you've proved you're a shitty wife. Not a shitty mother. Plus, she would never want you out of her life, and if it makes her happy, I can bear to occasionally deal with you."

"You sure know how to make a gal feel special, Jim." she joked.

"You sure know how to make a guy feel worthless, Vicky." I said with venom. She looked away in shame. "I'll be back tonight to get the rest of my stuff and we'll break it to Veronica, past that, I'll have Steve send you the paperwork." I walked out of the house and heard her begin to break down crying as I left.

...

I found an apartment that fell just close enough to my ideal price range in a somewhat decent part of town, that would accommodate me moving in on such short notice that I really couldn't pass it up. I then called my boss and told him I'd be cashing in some vacation days for the next week. All he asked was if it was the good kind or the bad kind, I told him the worst kind, he said he was sorry and to take as long as I needed – within reason- he was 'funny' like that.

Veronica, was confused and sad, but we asked her to be brave and told her it was for the best. I played all the best lines, "two Christmases," "she'd have two houses" anything to make up for the fact that mommy and daddy weren't together anymore. She asked why and I knew better than to play the blame game. I reveled in Victoria's misery, sure. But turning her daughter against her wasn't going to help anything in this situation. I left, with a suitcase full of clothes, toiletries, stationary, the smallest of our televisions and a promise to my daughter that the coming weekend we'd buy her all new stuff for her room at dad's house.

Victoria walked me to the front door with tears in her eyes, I could see that she had wanted to ask me to stay. I could also see that she knew there was no way that would happen. So, she just said "drive safe, I'm sorry." I nodded and left. That was it for our marriage. I guess we had a good run, even if a little under half of it was spent in complete ignorance on my part. I really was a stupid bastard.

...

It was definitely cheap of me, but I had a name, and I had a face. Jason Jackson – aka Jay or JJ. I also knew where he worked, where he lived, and where he went to work out. So I waited. He made it easy, he left the gym late on Tuesday and Thursday nights. The parking lot was dark and deserted. My car was parked on the opposite opening of an alley on the street. As he was walking to his car with his earphones in, I came up from behind with a burlap sack. I pulled the sack over his head and pulled the drawstring closed as tight as I could.

He immediately started trying to swing, in a fair fight, he would probably kick my ass pretty effectively. This wasn't a fight though, I was ambushing this motherfucker. Punched the side of his head a few times from behind to throw him off balance, and then pushed him over onto the asphalt. His arms went to get the sack off his face but I had already moved to flip him over. I continued my assault punching his face repeatedly. He tried to block, but it just wasn't happening. Discombobulated from the initial assault and tired from the gym anyway, this fucker was mine.

His arms were up blocking his head so I took the other options. I repeatedly kicked him in the torso. He was yelling all sorts of "motherfuckers," "pussy," "fight like a man's" etc. That just made it sweeter. After a good two or three minutes straight of pummeling this asshole on the floor I stood up. I walked over got in position and with all the strength a junior varsity season of soccer in high school afforded me I kicked him straight in the balls. He immediately went into the fetal position and puked from the impact.

I stood over him in the warm fading glow of a weak street light and smiled. It was a petty vengeance, but sometimes petty is good. I ran to my car before he regained his composure and took off.

...

Two years passed, I didn't see too much of Victoria. That was planned, I would drop Veronica off outside the old house (Victoria bought me out), and she would drop Veronica off outside of my little, two-bedroom home the next town over, maybe a ten-minute drive, if even that. It was just far away enough to not ever run into Victoria at the gym, or grocery store or whatever. But close enough that there was no hassle getting Veronica to school when she spent the night. We wouldn't sit or stand next to each other at any school functions, luckily Veronica was in a big enough school that it had accommodated that just fine. All told the formerly married couple of Jim and Victoria probably spoke to each other no more than ten times in the two years since the divorce was finalized. Good for us.

Life was good, I was back to a sort of bachelor life thing. I went to bars and casually dated. Had hookups here and there, nothing serious, and that was exactly how I wanted it. Smooth sailing... but then, why would it be that fucking easy. I was driving Veronica home from school one day and asked her what she wanted to do for her birthday. I knew she had the actual day with her mother, so that wasn't much of an issue, I meant the day after.

"Shaun says I should have a huge party with lots of candy and games and invite the whole school!" she said excitedly

Assuming Shaun was a friend from school, I laughed and said, "Well I don't know that Shaun can afford to throw that huge of a party, if the WHOLE school was coming."

"Mom says Shaun is rich, so he probably could." She said matter-of-factly.

Ice ran through my veins "... Wait a second, baby, who's Shaun?" I asked, failing at being casual.

"Don't you know anything, dad? Shaun is mom's boyfriend." She said like I was late to the party.