To Have and to Cuckold Pt. 05

I look over at Beth and I see her nodding knowingly, like the light was finally shining. The pieces start to fall into place for me too. Naomi is too far gone in her recounting of the details to see how the dots connect.

"Then one day he cornered me in the locker room when the gym was closing. He asked me about a little 'one on one' work out. I asked him what about his wife. He told me:

'Fuck that mousy little bitch. I want you."

Naomi stops the narrative for a moment and tries to wipe her nose with the back of her sleeve. Beth hands her a tissue and allows the moment reprieve for Naomi to compose herself.

"How did you feel when he called his wife a mousy little bitch Naomi?" Beth guides her. I know where she is going with this. Things are beginning to come together.

"I was so livid at that point! I actually punched him in the face. I drew blood from his lip and everything. He just looked at me and sneered. 'That the best you got cunt?' he said.

Then he grabbed me by the wrist and kissed me. It wasn't really a kiss. It was more like he shoved his tongue down my throat. When I twisted my wrist free, I pushed him off of me. In doing so, I guess I grabbed his shirt or something, because it ripped. On his chest I saw scratch marks that I think came from my nails when I ripped his shirt. He ran his fingers across the scratches and licked the blood from them.

Then he said, 'Come to daddy bitch!'

After that it was a blur. We ripped each other's clothes off. I fucked him right there on the floor. The whole time I was doing it, I was in a rage. I punched him. I slapped him. I called him a worthless piece of shit. And I came so hard I almost passed out."

Her last statement hits me where it hurts. But surprisingly, it isn't as painful because I am beginning to see where all of this is coming from. Beth brings everything home.

"What did he look like Naomi?"

As I hear her describe the guy, my eyes are fully opened. There is no way that this is a coincidence anymore. I remember the picture that I saw in that photo album. Without realizing it, I break one of Beth's rules and interrupted Naomi.

"Oh my God Naomi! You're describing your father!"

The realization hit Naomi like a ton of bricks. She actually starts shaking.

"Oh my God. I'm so fucked up!"

I hold her as she begins to sob all over again. Beth even breaks protocol and comes over to our side.

"No sweetie. You're not screwed up. You've been holding these demons to yourself for so long that you had no way of understanding them or getting them out." She says as she rubs Naomi's arm reassuringly.

"But I fucked my father!"

Beth shakes her head. "No sweetie. You didn't..."F"...your father." I notice that Beth has an aversion to swearing and tries to avoid it. "He's in prison. You had sex with someone who reminded you of him. You were trying to exorcise your demons."

The sobbing subsides some, so Beth trudges on.

"When you and Mark were together, how did you feel?"

"I hated him. I hated his wife. I hated myself."

"What made you keep going back to him?"

Naomi was thinking for a moment, quietly sniffing. "No matter what I did to him, he continued to chase me. Like a pitiful puppy. He was pathetic, and I made him that way."

Beth looks at me and saw that I had a question, even though I didn't write it down. She gives me a nod to go ahead.

"Why didn't you tell me about this Na? You should have told me."

She looks at me with the saddest eyes I'd seen on her yet. "I was ashamed Josh. That was the first time in my life that I felt shame for what I was doing. I hated myself for fucking him. It made me feel low. But it also made me feel more powerful than I've ever felt. I didn't want you to see me like that. To know that a part of me was even capable of doing what I did with him. The rage that I was capable of."

Beth goes back over and sits in her chair. For the first time since this started, I feel optimistic about us. Sure, we are in a lot of pain right now, but that is because we just came out of surgery to get the cancer out.

"I think this is a good place to stop. Naomi, you were wonderful today! So brave." Naomi actually blushes and smiles as Beth claps for her.

"Before you two go though, I have to say this to you Naomi. In order to fully put this demon behind you, you are going to have to confront it. And I mean that literally. You have the opportunity and the means to release yourself. But it's going to take you doing something that you aren't going like."

We sit there looking at Beth expectantly. Her face is deadly serious, but also encouraging.

"You are going to have to forgive your father. I think that you need to visit him and confront him. Say all of the things to him that you couldn't say when you were younger. I believe you need that in order for you to forgive him. Only then will you be able to forgive yourself and heal."

Once again my wife looks uncertain. If Beth told her to dive headfirst into a pit of snakes, Naomi would have looked at her with more enthusiasm than she just did. She glances at me, as if trying to see what I think of it. I smile at her and gently stroke her cheek.

"You are the strongest woman I know Na. If anyone can slay this mother-fucking demon, it's you baby. And I'm going to be by your side every step of the way." Her entire face lights up with a smile as she crushes my neck with a bear hug. She is practically choking me, but it doesn't seem important at the moment. I look over her shoulder and see Beth wink at me as if to say Well done Josh. Well done.

***

PRESENT TIME - October 2015

NAOMI NARRATING

I listen to the background noise of walkie talkies and doors slamming definitively shut. Low level murmurs surrounding me serve as white noise as the other people speak excitedly about loved ones that they miss so much.

I wish that I could share their feeling. I wish that the stark white walls and gloomy overhead lights didn't carry a sense of doom that spread throughout my body. Unlike the others here, I didn't drive 5 hours and 25 minutes to see a loved one. I came here to this miserable place to see a hated one.

Prison guards eye every last one of us with a detached interest as they wipe the wand over our bodies to detect any unknown metal objects. Once that task is done, they wave us through to the next station of inspection.

This place is so...cold. So devoid of warmth. It practically sends chills through my body. I cannot imagine a worse place to put someone for years at a time.

Good.

Once inside the family area, I take a seat at the table in the farthest corner. I sit facing the doorway through which the guests of the state would walk through. I need to see him when he enters. I want to be able to watch him approach me. Call it a survival instinct, but rule one of not being caught off guard is to never let your enemy see your back.

The door swings open and the room fills with orange jumpsuits. Hard core faces that had probably done unspeakable things turns into soft smiles as they lay eyes on the only people in the world that cared about them. It would have actually been touching if I were watching this under different circumstances.

Then "he" appeared. The monster of my nightmares. The one who had stolen my parents from me. The hypocritical asshole who thought that he was justified in ruining three lives. I hadn't seen him in 18 years, over half a lifetime ago. I always thought I would have been fine to never seen him again. But I am not fine. The current state of my marriage is a testament to that.

He doesn't look like the man I remember. The eyes of that young girl that watched his cold face all those years ago somehow made him a kind of evil deity in my mind. He was immortalized. His soulless eyes were so filled with hatred as he stared down at the lifeless body that he killed. He was invincible in my mind. Like Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers.

No, this guy isn't him. This guy's body sags, as if the weight of his jumpsuit is too much for him. His face is older, but it is as if the sadness and remorse of his life have added the years to him. Not just remorse that a person feels when they do something wrong. No, his remorse is deeper. It is like life for him is devoid of meaning and happiness. Like he curses God every time he wakes up in the morning.

Maybe there is justice.

"Naomi?" He asked as he approached me. It looks like he can't believe his eyes. He blinks, as if trying to make sure that I am really here.

He plants an awkward kiss on my cheek. I just sit there, rigid, not returning any warmth or affection.

"Hi Kenny." I say softly. I hate the sound of my voice. It sounds so weak. I wanted to come here and show him how strong I am. I wanted my voice to be stern and assertive. Maybe even a little intimidating. But seeing him so beaten, so defeated, takes all of that out of me.

I also see him flinch at the way I called him "Kenny" instead of "dad".

"Long time no see baby girl." He says as he sits down across from me. I try to smile, but I can't. I also feel a wave of discomfort at his term of endearment.

"So, what do I owe this pleasure?" He asks, trying to engage me in conversation that at the moment seems elusive. My stomach is filled with knots. I had an entire speech practiced. For days I had been going over what I was going to say when I saw him. I knew how I was going to say it. I even prepared witty, sarcastic comebacks to anything he could have possibly said to me. But all of that has vanished.

I regret my decision to come here alone. Why did I tell Josh to stay back at the hotel room? Why do I have to prove that I am strong enough to do this on my own? Why can't I trust my husband to lean on him during times like this? Why, Why, Why?

"I-I came here to talk to you. I'm seeing a counselor and she thought...she thinks...she and I think that it's time we talk."

I am babbling like an idiot. A weak idiot. Come on Naomi! Pull it together!

He suddenly isn't able to keep eye contact. I notice his eyes darting to the far wall as he averts my gaze. That serves me just as well because I am having trouble doing so myself at that moment.

"I suppose you want to talk to me about...what I did." His voice sounds just as weak and uncertain as mine does. My God! He's just as nervous as I am. The monster of my nightmares is nervous! Of me!

"Yes Kenny. I need to talk to you about the day you...shot mom." I am glad to hear that my voice now has some confidence in it. I use this gather my emotions and force myself to look into his eyes.

"Um, okay Baby girl. What do you want to know?"

What do I want to know? What do I want to know? What the fuck could I want to know? What the hell kind of question is that?

Suddenly, I feel the anger surge within me. The repressed anger that I felt in Beth's office as I purged myself of my memories comes flooding back. It practically chokes me, it's so thick and hot. I can feel it morph my face into a grimace.

"I WANNA KNOW WHY YOU SHOT MY MOTHER! What gave you the fucking right to kill her?"

I feel the burning tears on the brim, but I'll be damned if I let him see them. He doesn't deserve to see me vulnerable. He is the enemy.

"Baby girl..."

"DON'T YOU FUCKING CALL ME BABY GIRL AGAIN! I'M NOT YOUR BABY GIRL! I'M THE GIRL WHOSE LIFE YOU STOLE YOU FUCKING MONSTER!

I'm yelling so loud that my voice echoes across the room, completely overshadowing the other conversations that are happening. Well, that were happening. Now, there is nothing but silence as all eyes find my dad and I too interesting to ignore. The guard gives me a warning look and seems like he is about to approach me. In my peripheral I see my dad - Kenny - wave him off with a pleading face.

"Naomi, I'm so sorry." He says as he reaches for my hands. I snatch them away and glare at him with an icy look that could freeze fire. He retracts his hands and places them on the table in front of him.

"There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret doing it. What I did to your mother is unforgiveable."

"Why did you do it dad? Why did you shoot her when you were out there DOING THE SAME THING?"

His face falls when I say the last part. "I take it you know about Sandy and...your brother?"

I laugh sardonically. "Yeah dad. He swung by when you were convicted. Seems he felt he should meet me seeing how we had so much in common. Of course, you didn't kill his mom."

I can see how every sarcastic word that I shoot at him kills him a little more inside. Part of me revels in that. If I am hurting his feelings, good. Whatever he is feeling right now is like the after effects of a vaccine compared to the small pox he subjected me to. Relatives who didn't want to take care of me, social workers and physiatrists analyzing my moods, kids teasing me because of my murderer for a dad and slut of a mother. Fuck them both.

That is why I spent years forgetting all of that shit. Changing it. Changing me. I had to. I could not survive without moving past my experience, and I didn't have the ability to actually get past it. So I eliminated it. It was easier than my alternative. And it worked.

Mostly. Kind of. Not really.

I worked hard to be independent and not need anyone. Especially any man. Hypocritical assholes. Fuck anything on two legs, but then be ready to burn the women at the stake for not sitting there and taking it. Men are miserable shits. Not good for anything other than a good roll in the hay. All of them can go to hell.

Except for Josh.

He is so different. No matter what, he always puts me first. My Josh! What would I do without you?

Kenny's voice drones in, interrupting my trip down the minefield of memory lane. "I wish I could undo what I did to your mother. All of it. I treated her like shit and it haunts me everyday. Her face is the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night."

He looks to be on the verge of tears. His eyes looks into mine, begging me to sympathize with him. To love him. But I'm not there. I'm far from there. Like in another hemisphere altogether.

At the same time, I can't help but to pity him - sort of. His life is shit. He is all alone. He has nothing to look forward to and no one to give a fuck about him. Horrible way to live, even for a monster like him.

"So why did you do it? Further yet, why did you even marry her?" I ask him, softening my approach. I no longer feel the need to beat him up and torture him. It's like slapping around a wounded animal.

"I never loved your mother. I know that sounds horrible, but I didn't. She was supposed to be a one-night stand. I was drunk. She was drunk. We had sex in a fucking bathroom stall. We didn't even get naked for Christ's sake!"

I sit back and digest that bit of information. Of course I always suspected that he didn't love my mom. There is no way that a man can treat a woman the way he did and truly love her. However, there is a difference between knowing it in your head and hearing it aloud. It is jarring to say the least. Every kid wants to think that they are a result of a union of love, not drunken lust. God, no wonder I'm so fucked up!

"I was a running back in college. Fast as hell. Strong. I had designs to go pro. Everybody felt I had a shot. Your mother was a local townie who enjoyed hooking up with college guys. She was even friendly with a few of my teammates. I'm just the lucky one who got her pregnant."

If it were possible to feel any more like shit than I already did, that last statement did it. Shock hits me. So, I am the reason why these two were stuck in that horrible marriage? I think he correctly reads the look on my face because he immediately tries to explain.

"Its not your fault sweetie. Your mother and I made the choice to fool around in that bathroom. I was too drunk to put on a condom. You had no choice in the matter. What happened was just a matter of consequences for stupidity."

I calm down a little, though I don't really like being thought of as a "consequence for stupidity". Every word that comes out of his mouth further tears me apart. But I know that I have to let him finish.

"When your mother told me she was pregnant, I about shit myself. I didn't believe you were mine at first. I don't even know how she figured you were. She wasn't the most chaste woman around. But when you were born the DNA showed that I was the lucky daddy." He chuckles to himself at his use of irony, completely oblivious to how low it makes me feel.

"My old man always talked about honoring commitments. Doing your duty. So when your mom had you he told me that the proper thing to do was to make her an honest woman. 'You deserved a family' he said. After all, you were the only one of us that didn't do anything they shouldn't have.

So we were married at the courthouse. Neither of us really wanted to be together. I was constantly getting ragged on for marrying the town bike. My teammates, classmates, even the coaching staff talked about me. I started to miss practices to avoid them. Started skipping class. Not to mention your mother always needing something. After a while, my performance on the field started to slip. A missed block here, a fumble there, a dropped pass or two. I was constantly distracted between enduring the constant teasing of my teammates and dealing with a family. Pretty soon, my scholarship was revoked and I couldn't finish school.

Of course, I blamed your mother for that. Every time I looked at her, I saw a future that was down the tubes. And I hated her for that.

Your mom had low self-esteem before we got together. That's why she let all of those guys have their way with her. A few drinks and a compliment and she was yours for the night. So naturally, she just took all of my abuse. It was in her personality.

The only one who really showed any love for her was your uncle. Poor Ricky! He thought she walked on water. He didn't care about her past. Several times people joked that she got pregnant by the wrong brother. Hell, I wished she did get pregnant by him instead of me. But we were all stuck.

My brother actually begged her to divorce me so that he could marry her. She never did of course because she was scared shitless of me, but I could see in her eyes that she wanted me to release her to be with him. But I couldn't do it. I thought that my future was shot because of her. There was no way I was going to give her a happy ending. I wasn't a very nice person. But you know that.

So I kept her in that marriage out of spite. When you told me that you caught her cheating, I was enraged. How dare she! She steps in, ruins my life, and then wants to try to be happy! I felt that she didn't deserve a moment of happiness. She cost me my future and my happiness. What right did she have to have to find peace?"

"So you shot her?" I finish his story for him, cutting to the point. All of his justifications just make me sick. He nods and finally looks in my eyes.

It actually looks like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. His jumpsuit doesn't look as heavy anymore. He'd apparently been holding on to that in for some time now. Finally being able to release it appears to be kind of cathartic for him.

"What about Brian?"

"Your brother? I started messing with Sandy, his mom, not too long after I married yours. She wasn't the only one. I have to admit that I wasn't faithful at all. I was young, good looking, and had a low opinion of women. On top of that, I was angry. So I always went after the low hanging fruit."

I have never despised anybody more than at this moment. He is a worthless human being, only capable of seeing what is happening to him. Everybody is against him. Nothing is his fault.