My Wife Cheated

She had done pretty well for herself. After high school she started working in an upscale department store. It was the only job she ever had and was now the District Manager for three of their other stores.

We talked for a long time before having a farewell fuck in her cabin. The next morning we docked and I drove home.

Things hadn't changed and there was still no word from Carol or Cheryl. I waited a week before calling Grace. We spent the next weekend together. And the next. And lots of weekends after that.

About six months into our relationship, we decided that I should move to Houston and live with her. I worked at one of the refineries in Lake Charles. I talked to my boss and asked him to investigate the possibility of me transferring to our Houston refinery. He checked and in another month my house was for sale and I lived in Houston with Grace.

I had been in Houston six months and Carol had been gone over a year when I filed for divorce. When it was finalized, Grace and I were married and took a honeymoon cruise. She was the only person I slept with on that cruise ... and vice versa.

In the meantime, Grace's son Michael had done great in New York. His play had been SRO (Standing Room Only) and he was a rising star. We went to New York twice to see him.

I thought about Cheryl often and wondered ... and worried ... about her.

Our lives went on and in four years, I was another notch higher on my company food chain. Michael was in Hollywood filming his second movie. His first had been filmed on location in Europe.

He invited us out to visit, so we went. We stood and watched as he filmed some scenes. Between each scene, people would come up to him, fine tune his makeup, adjust his clothes, or comb his hair. I watched as he was handed a folder to look at each time they stopped filming.

Later at dinner, I asked him what those folders were. He told me they were dialogue changes for the scene they were filming next. I asked him if he knew the name of the lady who brought them to him.

"Her name is Carol and she brings them before each scene. Why?"

"She just looked familiar."

Neither Grace nor Michael saw me as I was fighting down the bile which had risen in my throat.

Grace and I were in the studio provided limo on our way back to the hotel.

She looked at me. "What's wrong?"

"The lady who gave Michael the dialogue changes is Carol."

"I know. That's what Michael said."

"She's Carol. My ex-wife Carol."

"You're shitting me."

"No, I'm not."

"Holy cow. What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea."

We rode in silence to the hotel. It was very quiet the rest of the evening.

The next day, Grace went back to the studio. I stayed at the hotel.

When she returned she handed me a piece of paper.

"What is this?"

"Carol's address and phone number. Michael's agent got it for me."

"Does he know why?"

"He didn't ask, I didn't tell. I just told him I wanted it."

I just looked at it.

"Go on. Go. You know you have to. I'll be here when you get back."

An hour later I was getting out of a cab at the address Grace had given me. I walked slowly up to the second floor with my heart beating rapidly. I stood in front of Apartment 206 and rang the bell. No answer. I rang it again. The door opened and I stood face to face with my daughter.

We just looked at each other until I spoke. "Why do you hate me?"

"You know why. What are you doing here?"

"Answer my question."

I walked into the apartment and she didn't try to stop me.

"Because you cheated on mom."

"Who told you I cheated?" I saw the glance over her shoulder.

Carol's first husband had been caught cheating and she divorced him. Now, apparently, I'd been accused of doing it as well.

"Jimmy did."

"Who's Jimmy?"

"Jimmy Wilson. You know who he is. He worked in your office for two years."

"No one named Jimmy Wilson has ever worked in my office. Where is he?"

Now she looked over my shoulder. I turned and there was a closed door. I started to open it and Cheryl tried to stop me. "He's sleeping."

I opened the door and saw a man buttoning his shirt. He looked stunned.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Who the fuck wants to know?"

"I do."

"Well, who the fuck are you?"

"Don't you know me?"

"Fuck no; should I?"

"Yes, you should."

"What the fuck are you talking about? I never seen you in my life."

I stepped closer to him. "Take a closer look. Are you sure you don't know me?"

"I told you I never seen you before, now get the fuck out of my apartment before I call the cops."

"My name's Sam."

"You act like that should mean somethin'."

"Sam Conley. You told my daughter that you worked in my office for two years."

"Sam Conley? I don't know any Sa... Oh, shit."

"Yeah, oh shit. Now tell me why you told my wife that I cheated on her."

"I don't have to tell you shit, motherfucker. She's mine now so you can kiss my ass."

I stepped toward him, but he dodged around me and ran out of the apartment.

"Oh, my God. I can't fuckin' believe you did that." What did Cheryl just say? "fuckin'?"

"Did what?"

"Tried to hit Jimmy."

"I didn't try to hit him and you heard him. He doesn't know me and he never worked in my office."

"You're lying. You caught him by surprise otherwise he would have kicked your ass. I'm going to call Mom."

I stood there as she made the call.

"Mom, dad's here and he chased Jimmy away." Pause. "I'm not fuckin' kidding."

I took the phone. "He lied to you, Carol."

"You're the one who is lying," she said. "He had pictures. Now get the fuck out of my house before I call the police."

"Where are the pictures? I want to see them."

"Fuck you. You motherfucking son of a bitch. Now get out of my house." And she hung up.

Never had Carol ever used such language. The strongest word she ever used was "damn" and she always got on me when I used profanity. And now even Cheryl said "fuckin'." I used profanity, but rarely around Carol and never around Cheryl. These were not the two people I knew and loved.

I tried to talk to Cheryl, but she wouldn't listen and after just a few minutes I heard sirens and someone running up the stairs.

The police never put me in handcuffs but since I didn't live there, I had to leave. I tried to explain what had happened but they were not interested. I had been asked to leave so I was required to leave.

"Not without my daughter." I protested.

"I'm not his daughter. He's a fuckin' liar." She'd said fuckin' again.

I just looked at her, shook my head, and walked out. I walked for a long time before hailing a cab and going back to the hotel. When I got there, Grace and I talked about it. Michael arrived to take us to dinner. I chose not to go.

I tried to remember anyone named Jimmy Wilson and kept drawing a blank so I called my old boss. It was after business hours, so I called his home.

"Hello, Sammy, que pasa?" he said when he answered.

"Not much Lou. How're tricks?"

"You know how it is; same shit different day. What's up?"

"Do you remember someone named Jimmy Wilson working at the plant?"

"No, but that doesn't mean much. There have been lots of people there I didn't, and still don't, know. Why?"

"His name came up today and I was just wondering. I was told that he worked at the plant. Can you find out?"

"If it's important, I can try."

"It is, Lou."

"Okay. Give me a couple of days to do some asking around."

Right after Lou and I finished, my phone rang.

"Hello."

"You rotten, cheating bastard. How did you find us?" She must have kept my number over the years.

"Oh, hello Carol. It's been a long time. How are you?" Sarcasm dripping from every syllable.

"Fuck you. Stay away from us. You hear me. Stay away."

"Cheryl is my daughter and I want her in my life. He lied, Carol. Your boyfriend, husband, or whatever he is, lied."

"No he didn't. He showed me pictures."

"Of what? Of who?"

"Fuck you, cock suck breath." And she hung up.

'Cock suck breath?' Her language had certainly gotten colorful as well as descriptive.

When Grace and Michael returned, she told me that she hadn't told Michael about any of this, but I could if I wanted to. So I did.

His first words were. "Your poor daughter. I feel so sorry for her. Holy shit, Sam. Do you want me to get her fired?"

"No. No. She might just run again and I want to find out why she left. As it turns out, I'm glad she did because otherwise I wouldn't have met your mother. But she stole my daughter and turned her against me and I want to try to fix that. They have no idea that I know you, so let's keep it that way for now. Let them wonder about how I found them." We talked for a bit longer before he left. Grace went back to the studio the next day, but I stayed away. I didn't want Carol to see me.

I wasn't ready to get the authorities involved yet, and I now knew where they were, so I felt relatively safe in leaving until I got my ducks in a row so Grace and I flew home.

The first thing I did was talk to my attorney. He would contact a colleague in California to determine our next course of action. As a minimum, he could go after my share of the money.

Three days later, Lou called.

"I found out that Jimmy Wilson worked in our railyard for a few months. He was recommended for the job by his cousin, David Jacobson. Do you remember him?"

"I certainly do. He was a photographer in the public affairs office. He was a sleazeball and I caught him putting a pill in Cindy Smith's drink at the Christmas party one year. I turned him in and he went to jail for a while."

"That's him. Well, I've been told by those who remember that little incident, that he made some threats against you."

"He did, but I ignored them and him."

"Maybe you should have taken him a bit more seriously. Rumor around the plant is that he and his cousin Jimmy Wilson cooked up some plot to screw you over. Now, admittedly, this was all a long time ago and memories are a bit hazy; but there may have been something to it."

"Do you have his address and phone number?"

He chuckled. "I figured you might want it so I just happen to have it right here. Apparently, Wilson took off to parts unknown, however."

"Not any more. I know where he is."

"Where?"

"Living with my ex-wife and daughter in California."

"Holy shit. Are you sure?"

"I saw him there a few days ago."

"Well, fuck me!"

Jacobson still lived in Lake Charles and Grace and I talked at some length about what to do. I was conflicted. If it had been their plan to come between Carol and me, it worked beautifully. But, in all honesty, I came out better for it. I no longer had a wife who left me without making any effort to ascertain if the cheating accusations were true or not. Apparently I was presumed guilty because she caught her first husband doing it.

But there was Cheryl to consider.

Did I want to rekindle a relationship with her after seeing the way she defended Gibson and vilified me?

Of course I did. She's my daughter and was only 10 when this thing started.

Grace knew me pretty well so knew that I would be paying Jacobson a visit. The next morning we drove to Lake Charles and checked in to a motel.

At noon, I rang Jacobson's doorbell. His wife answered.

"May I help you?

"Are you Mrs. David Jacobson?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"My name is Samuel Conley. Is your husband here?"

"No."

"Do you have a few minutes? I'd like to talk to you about him."

"What about him?"

I took a deep breath. This was it. "My wife and daughter left me five years ago and I think he was at least partly responsible and I would like to find out for sure."

"How was he responsible?"

"It's a long story."

She looked at me for a long time. "I have no idea why I'm doing this, but come in."

She ushered me in to the living room and indicated the sofa. I sat.

"Now Mr. Conley, you have the floor."

I told her. The whole ball of wax. When I finished, we just sat and looked at each other.

Finally, she spoke.

"David and I have been married for just over two years, but I've known him for almost four. One of the first things he talked about was how he broke up the marriage of the man who caused him to go to jail on a 'trumped up' charge."

A short pause.

"And you say he drugged some girl?" she asked.

"Yes. I saw him putting a pill in her drink at our company party. I reported it and it turned out to be a date rape drug."

Again, we just looked at each other. Finally, she spoke. "What did you expect me to be able to do for you?"

"I have no idea. I'm just grasping at straws trying to figure out how to get my daughter back."

She stood. "If I think of anything I can do to help, I'll call you," she said, dismissing me. I left my phone number and went back to the hotel dejected. The next morning Grace and I were having breakfast when my phone rang.

"Hello."

"Mr. Conley?"

"Yes."

"This is Anita Jacobson. You were at my house yesterday."

"Yes, Mrs. Jacobson."

"Could you come over? I may have something for you."

An hour later I was sitting in her living room.

"Your visit started me thinking. After we moved in together, I found a container of Rohypnol and asked him about it. He told me it was for his insomnia. I've never known him to need help sleeping, but occasionally I check and there are a couple of pills missing," she said, "and he still brags about convincing his cousin to help break up your marriage; but it worked out differently than they expected. Jimmy and David apparently helped her get away from you. But somewhere along the way, Jimmy and your wife ended up living together."

"Yes, I know. I saw them a few days ago in Los Angeles."

"Oh, my God. You did? They thought you could never find them." A long pause. Then she stood. "I'd like to show you something." She walked away. I stood and followed. We went to what was obviously a photography studio. "For the last few months, I have suspected David of cheating on me. I've found pictures of naked women in his files., Two of them are friends of ours. They're both married and I'm sure he has slept with them; and, knowing both of them, I would be shocked if they did it of their own free will."

Then she pulled a stack of photos out of a bottom drawer and handed them to me. She sat and watched as I looked through them. In some of the photos you could identify the subjects. In others, you could not. I didn't know either of the two. The first few photos showed them dressed and obviously kissing. Other pictures showed them in various stages of undress and then having sex. The last one I looked at had my picture in it and I was having sex with some woman and I had no idea who she was. Whoever the man was, it wasn't me.

"David showed me those and said that they caused your divorce. He laughed everytime he told the story and bragged about how he was one of the first people to know how to 'photoshop'. At first, I had no idea what that meant, but I came to know. He gave copies of them to Jimmy who called your wife and told her he worked with you and had pictures of you cheating. He arranged to meet her and showed them to her. Then he had her meet David who corroborated his story and between them, they convinced her the man in the photos was you. The picture of your face with that woman convinced her. David is very proud of what they did and, as I said, still brags about it. He couldn't believe your wife bought their story." She paused then handed me another stack of photos. "Look at these." The last one showed the same picture of the woman being fucked, but the face of the man was different. "If you look at the last one, the man has a tattoo of a black leopard on his shoulder. The one with you in it doesn't have the tattoo."

I just shook my head. David did a pretty good job of photoshopping, but he made a small mistake.

"We have been out to visit Jimmy. I met your wife and daughter. They are not nice people. Your daughter has been in trouble for shoplifting. She has spent time in a youth facility of some sort and your wife is an alcoholic."

"She isn't my wife. I think she may be married to Gibson."

"They're not married, I can tell you that. They were together for a while, but then he left and went to Seattle. He just went back to California about a year ago. When we were there, Jimmy, David and I went out drinking and they laughed and bragged about what they did. Up until yesterday, I thought they were exaggerating; but now ... I'm sorry Mr. Conley. It happened before I met him and I think it is despicable. I was sitting on the fence about his affairs, but what they did to you is beyond evil. And if, as I suspect, David drugged our friends, he deserves to be in jail."

There was another pause before she added. "Jimmy Wilson is a piece of shit with an unbelievably foul mouth. He doesn't care what he says, where he says it, or who he says it to. He's also a coward with neither scruples nor conscience." There was a slight pause. "I guess that describes my husband as well."

I couldn't say anything. She was a woman who finally convinced herself that her husband was a certified asshole.

She went back to the bottom drawer and brought out a video. "Take those pictures and this video. Use them as you will. I won't tell David you were here or that I gave you this stuff."

She led me to the door. "Thank you, Mrs. Jacobson. You've answered a lot of questions for me."

"You are welcome, Mr. Conley. You've helped me make up my mind about a couple of things. I can only deeply and sincerely apologize for my husband and hope that things turn out well for you."

"Actually, they have. Thank you." We shook hands.

Twelve years and Carol never asked me about the accusations or gave me a chance to defend myself. Twelve years! It appeared more and more likely that I suffered because her first husband cheated and was caught.

After I calmed down I went back to the motel and hugged Grace. I felt that things had, indeed, turned out well for me. Now if I could just get my daughter back.

I told her about my visit with Mrs. Jacobson, and showed her the photos. After looking at them and shaking her head, she asked, "What's on the video?"

"I have no idea."

"Why don't I go to the lobby while you watch it?"

"Why don't we watch it together?"

I took out my laptop and we played the video.

It started with Carol sitting on a bed. It looked like she had just finished crying. Jimmy Wilson was sitting next to her and was speaking.

"God damn it Carol. The motherfucker cheated. You owe it to yourself to get even. Now drink this. It will serve him right." He handed her a drink. She took the drink and sipped it. "Don't sip it. Drink the shit. It will make you feel better." She gulped it down. They just looked at each other and fidgeted for a couple of minutes. Carol tried to rise, but he held her down.

"Maybe I should go home," she almost whispered.

"No fucking way. You came here to get even and that's what you are going to do. Now just relax and I will get you some more to drink."

He left and was back in just a few seconds with another glass of liquid. "Here. This will make you feel better." She gulped it down as well.

They sat there and Wilson stroked her arms, brushed her hair, and kissed her cheeks, hands, and neck. Then he ran his hand over her left breast. She jerked but didn't stop him. He did it again. With more pressure this time. She closed her eyes and breathed a bit harder. The third time he pinched her nipple and she moaned. He then stood, took her hands and pulled her up. "Get those fucking clothes off and let's do this." And she started to undress. He watched her as she started to strip. Then he undressed himself. It didn't take him long and he stood there stroking his dick as she finished. When she was naked he turned her around and whistled. "Man, what a fine piece of ass. I'm going to enjoy this."