Anger Management Ch. 02

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Dealing with infidelity.
7.3k words
3.81
63.6k
37

Part 2 of the 2 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 06/29/2018
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swingerjoe
swingerjoe
1,319 Followers

From the moment he first met her, Dave felt as though he would never be able to hold onto a woman like Jessica. She was extraordinarily pretty in a "girl-next-door" kind of way. Beautiful, yet approachable, and so outgoing and friendly it was easy to fall in love with her. He noticed her well before she noticed him. His morning ritual included a visit to the State Line Diner, where he would order breakfast and a coffee. He couldn't help but notice her when she came into the diner one morning - and the next, and the next.

He never considered approaching her. He was well aware of his unattractive appearance and imposing demeanor and had resigned himself to the fate of living alone. Frankly, he was comfortable with that notion. Since the day his father left his mother, he had learned that women simply weren't worth the trouble. Every now and then, he would splurge for a cheap whore to satisfy his sexual urges. Aside from that, he found little need for female companionship.

He vividly recalled the day his father left. He had just come home from high school when he found his mother weeping in the kitchen. She tried to hide it, but he could tell she was upset. At dinner that night, he asked her where his father was. At first, she made excuses. He was working late. He was out with the boys. After more than a week of excuses, she came clean with the truth: his father had left them.

It wasn't until months later that he discovered the reason. His mother had been having an affair with one of their neighbors. One day, Dave came home from school to find his mother weeping yet again. This time, she was surrounded by his aunt and uncle. His uncle pulled young Dave aside and delivered the news: his father was dead.

Apparently, his father had a little too much to drink one night, passed out on the floor, and vomited. His father, his role model, his idol, who had worked hard to provide for his family and taught him everything he knew, had died while choking on his own vomit. The injustice of it all was absolutely sickening.

Dave didn't hesitate to blame his mother for his father's death. He became incorrigible around her. He stopped referring to her as "Mom" and called her "Bitch" instead. He told her, every day, how much he hated her, and how she had killed his father. Oddly enough, she never argued with him. She simply took it all, as if she were deserving of his accusations and scorn. It was her eternal punishment.

At the diner one morning, Dave signaled for the waitress. He whispered something in her ear and pointed toward an old woman who was seated at the other end of the diner. The waitress made her way to the woman's table. The old woman opened her purse and looked up at the waitress, straining to hear her words. She suddenly displayed a curious expression of disbelief and delight. She closed her purse, slowly stood from the table, and looked around the diner.

"Whoever did that," she shouted in a strained and feeble voice, "thank you. You have no idea what it means to me today."

With that, she slowly ambled out of the diner. Dave smiled and sipped his coffee. He ripped off a piece of bacon with his back teeth and chewed. He turned around when he felt a slight tap on his shoulder.

"That was really nice of you," the woman said.

He nearly choked on his bacon. "What's that?"

"You paid for that woman's check, right?"

"I...well, yeah." He felt his heart rate rise, and it became hard to swallow.

"I'm Jessica," she said, offering her hand.

"Dave," he replied, taking her hand in his for the first time. "It...it's a ritual of mine, I guess. Pay it forward. For good luck. We start blasting a new tunnel today."

"Oh, do you work in the mine?"

"Yeah, I do."

"That sounds exciting." Her eyes sparkled. He had never seen a woman look at him that way before. Why was she even speaking to him?

"It is," he said. "Sometimes."

"Well, I guess I'll see you around, Dave. Tomorrow morning?"

From that morning forward, and for the next fifteen years, they would share breakfast together nearly every weekday morning. They shared their life stories with each other. Dave explained how he had left his hometown on the East Coast to get as far away as possible. A friend of his had mentioned a job with a gold mining company in Nevada, and he leaped at the opportunity. Jessica was a hometown girl who had just graduated with her Bachelor's Degree, was working on her Master's in Education, and was gaining experience as a student teacher while working toward her certificate.

Dave fell in love with her instantly. As hard as it was for him to believe, he sensed that she cared for him as well. After several weeks of sharing breakfast together, he finally asked her to a dinner date. To his increasing astonishment, she accepted. After three or four dates, he could tell that she was ready to take their relationship to the next level. He was hesitant, however, and feared that he might not measure up to her standards. He did whatever he could to delay the inevitable, but finally relented.

The first time he dropped his pants in front of her, it was among the most anxiety-inducing times in his life. It brought him right back to his feelings of anxiety in the locker room as a young teenager. Part of him expected her to laugh at him as his classmates had. Instead, she was very loving and compassionate. Until then, the only sexual experience he ever had was with whores. Since he was paying them, he didn't need to worry about what they thought of him, and he was free to treat them as he wished.

Sex with Jessica was different. It wasn't merely a physical release. It was an outward expression of their feelings and caring for each other. When he lay on top of her, he was fully aware that he was capable of crushing her beneath his weight, so he was as gentle as he had ever been with a woman. He asked her often if she was okay, and she assured him she was. Unlike the whores, he wanted to please her - more than anything he ever wanted in his life. If only he could satisfy her, sexually, maybe it would entice her enough to continue sharing her company with him.

He looked into her eyes as he gently thrust inside her, looking for any telltale sign whatsoever, positive or negative. As best he could tell, she was enjoying herself. He was so focused on her pleasure that he lost concentration on his own. To his embarrassment and horror, he felt his cock going limp and concentrated as hard as he could to stop it from happening. It was too late.

He rolled off of her and lay beside her. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Don't be," she whispered. "I enjoyed myself."

"You're kind for saying that," he scoffed. "I don't know what happened. All of a sudden I just lost it. I—"

"Shh," she said, placing her finger along his lips. "It's okay. You don't need to explain. I'm sure it won't happen again next time."

"Next time?" he said with a jolt, propping himself up on his elbow. She responded with a belly laugh, and he couldn't help but join her.

Through the weeks and months that followed, Jessica introduced her new boyfriend to her large group of friends and co-workers. Their co-mingling sometimes led to awkward incidents caused by Dave's anger issues. He was intensely jealous and protective. He would confront any man who would dare to even look at his girlfriend and become hostile and aggressive. He nearly came to blows on several occasions - and would have if not for her intervention.

This situation came to a boil one night when the two were out together with a group of friends. Jessica excused herself to use the lady's room. When it seemed to Dave that she had been gone a little too long, he went looking for her. He found her standing with her back against the wall near the restrooms. She was chatting with a man who was leaning with one hand against the wall - a little too close for Dave's comfort. The man leaned in further to speak in her ear and she giggled in response.

She didn't have time to intervene. She didn't notice Dave's presence until he had grabbed the other man around the neck, wrestled him to the floor, and sat on top of him with his fist raised.

"Dave!" she shrieked. "For god's sake, stop it!"

She wrapped her arms around him from behind and struggled to hold him back. She managed to do just that until reinforcements arrived. It took several patrons and two bouncers to separate the two men. The burly bouncers wrestled Dave to the front door and shoved him out into the night.

"That's what you get when you fuck with another man's woman!" Dave shouted. "Jess! Where are you? Get out here!"

Moments later, Jessica appeared at the entrance of the bar, flanked by the bouncers. Instead of walking toward her boyfriend, she stood her ground and spoke to him from there.

"You need to leave," she said with a quivering voice. Her eyes shimmered in the light.

"Okay, then let's go," Dave said. "Let's get out of here."

"I'm not going with you."

It seemed to take a moment for him to process what she said. "What? Are you going home with that asshole, instead?"

Jessica took a step or two toward her boyfriend. The bouncers walked with her, but she waved them off. She lowered her voice. "Dave, that guy is the head of the English department at my school. I need to do everything I can tonight to convince him not to press charges against you. Then, if I can manage to do that, I need to see if I can keep my job. You need to go home. And I need to think about whether I want to be with you anymore."

He had absorbed countless punches over the years, but none ever had the impact of those words at that moment. He stood, thunderstruck, for a moment before turning to leave.

It took a great deal of introspection and self-evaluation before he could convince Jessica to take him back. In the end, she agreed to continue dating him, but with the promise that he would never again act violently toward anyone unless absolutely warranted. She made him promise to work on suppressing his anger and lengthening his temper. He gave her his solemn promise that he would do just that.

His efforts were genuine - and persuasive enough that she agreed to marry him on the one-year anniversary of their first date. The first person he phoned with the good news was his old high school friend, Melanie. Melanie was the only person from Dave's past that he insisted Jessica must meet. He paid for plane tickets to fly them both to the East Coast specifically for that occasion. Jessica had the feeling that if she hadn't met Melanie's approval, he wouldn't have proposed. Fortunately for Jessica, she seemed to have passed the test.

***

Dave couldn't remember walking out of the bar. He couldn't remember driving home that night. It seemed as though he were watching a movie of his life, and had left for a moment to make some popcorn. Yet, there he was, sitting in his driveway with no recollection as to how he got there.

Incredibly, the familiar rage he should have felt was strangely absent. Instead, he felt nothing but numbness. He realized he was in mourning. The first stage of mourning is denial. There was simply no way that his Jessica would have ever had sex with that cocky kid. She had never given him any reason to doubt her love for him. Why on earth would she have betrayed his trust and put an end to what he thought was a strong marriage?

He needed to confront her, but not in front of the children. If what Dylan had told him was true, there would be a lot of shouting, and he didn't want the kids to hear what he had to say. Fucking Dylan. He was probably still sitting at the bar, congratulating himself for "coming clean with Jesus." Fucking prick. He wanted to knock a few of his teeth out right there at the bar, but when he had stood from his bar stool and looked around, he saw so many faces. If only one of them had recognized the Bakersfield Butcher, his name would be in all the papers yet again. He could only imagine the headline: "Butcher Terrorizes Victim Again!" It was a smart decision meeting in a public place, he had to grant the kid that.

He pulled out of the driveway, parked across the street from his home, and waited in the darkness. He would not sleep that night. He could feel the boiling rage return and simmer just beneath the surface. It took every ounce of self-restraint he owned to prevent himself from doing something he would later regret. He patiently waited for the kitchen light to illuminate. When it did, he picked up his cellphone.

"Hey, I was wondering where you were," Jessica chirped through the phone. "I thought maybe you crashed on the couch. I was just about—"

"I need you to come outside," he said, coldly.

"Outside? What's outside?"

"I'm sitting in my truck across the street."

"What? Why-?"

"Just do it!" he said, and ended the call.

A moment later, she emerged at the front door, wrapped in her bathrobe. She slowly walked across the street wearing a look of apprehension and entered the passenger's side.

"What-?"

"Did you fuck him?"

Her eyes widened. "Who?"

"Dylan Harrison. Did you fuck him?"

She looked at him incredulously. Then her eyes reddened and glistened. She looked down at her lap and nodded. "Yes," she said, softly.

Dave smashed the steering wheel with such force, it startled her. She jumped in her seat and recoiled. The driver's side window fogged as he seethed with white-hot rage. "Why?" he asked.

"I...Dave, I don't know. Could there possibly be any good reason? It just...happened. I'm so sorry—"

"How many times?"

"Only once," she said. Her bottom lip quivered. She brushed away tears from her cheeks.

"How could you, Jessica? How could you throw away our marriage like that? How the fuck could you betray me like that? What, you just couldn't control yourself? You're suddenly some filthy slut who can't control her hormones? Is that it?"

"No, it wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like? Tell me. Let me hear all the details."

She inhaled and exhaled deeply. "I don't," she croaked, and then cleared her throat. "Dave, I don't want to hurt you any more than you are. I love you so much—"

"Bullshit!"

"I do! You know I do! And I always have. I would never want to hurt you."

"But then you fucked some guy - a kid! Tell me how it happened. I need to know."

She took another deep breath. "It was five or six years ago. I was invited to a five-year reunion for the Class of '06, I think it was. Remember I asked you to go with me?"

"No. But go on."

"I had a good time reconnecting with my old students, including Dylan. There was an open bar, and I had a little too much wine. I wasn't drunk. Just a little too buzzed to drive. So I was going to call a taxi, but Dylan offered to drive me home. I figured it would save money, you know?"

"How thoughtful of you."

"We were driving to our house when we suddenly stopped in front of an apartment building. Dylan said he had to pee really bad. He said as long as we were there, he would show me something I wrote in his yearbook. So I went with him up to his apartment."

Dave shook his head in disgust. He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white. "Go on."

"It was a small studio apartment. There was hardly any furniture other than a bed, so I sat on the edge of the bed while he used the bathroom. When he came out...I don't really know how it happened. He was just suddenly on top of me, kissing me."

"Did you tell him to stop?"

"Yes! I told him I'm a married woman. But he insisted that I wanted it. He forced me onto my back and held my arms above my head. He was kissing and biting my neck, and I told him to stop."

"Why didn't you bite him back? Or kick him? Or scream for help?"

"I...I don't know. Trust me, I've replayed that night a million times since then. I know what I should have done, but I didn't."

"Maybe because you liked it."

She shook her head and wept. "No. I don't think so."

"Then what happened?"

"He held my hands over my hand and used his other to reach under my dress and yank down my panties. Before I could say another word, he was inside me. It was too late."

"Fuck!" Dave shouted. "That mother fucker! He held your hands and forced himself on you. So you're saying he raped you?"

"No," she said. "I don't know. Maybe. It doesn't matter."

"It fucking does matter! If that son of a bitch raped you, he deserves the death penalty!"

"He didn't rape me."

"What are you saying? You wanted it? You enjoyed it?"

"I...no, I just lay there, limp, like I wasn't even in the room anymore. My head was spinning. I felt like I was having an out-of-body experience or something."

"That's the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard, Jessica! If he didn't rape you, then you're saying you went along with it. You're saying you enjoyed it."

"Does it make a difference?!" For the first time, he saw a flash of defiance in her eyes. "If I hated it, would it still be cheating? If I enjoyed it, then our marriage is over? Is that it? Our entire marriage, our fifteen years together, raising two children together, everything we've been through, it all hinges on whether or not I enjoyed what he did to me?"

"Damn right it makes a difference! It makes a difference to me! Does he have a big dick?"

"Jesus, Dave!" She shook her head and folded her arms in front of her. "Are you serious? That's really what you need to know?"

"Well, does he?"

"Yes! Yes, he had a big, fucking, monster dick. Does that make you happy? Does it make you sad? Does your self-worth depend on comparing dick sizes with another man?"

"Fuck you, Jessica!"

"No, fuck you! You're the one who demanded answers and details! Don't be pissed at me because you don't like the answers!"

"How many others have there been? Huh? It couldn't have been just him, right? Jesus, are our kids even mine?"

"Go fuck yourself!" she shouted, just as a neighbor jogged past. She looked away, embarrassed. She paused for a moment to collect her emotions. "That was the only time, Dave. Just that once. Our kids are yours, I assure you."

"And why should I believe a word you say? You've been lying to me for six years!"

"I haven't lied."

"Lies of omission."

She sighed heavily. "I kept it to myself because I knew it could only do further damage. The damage had been done. Telling you may have eased my conscience, but it would have devastated you. Hell, look at you. Especially now, with all the stress you've been under, you don't need this. How did you even find out about it?"

"Dylan."

"Son of a bitch. He gave me his word."

"Yeah, well his word is as good as his honor." He paused for a moment and looked out the foggy window. "I just can't believe you betrayed me like this. I would never be unfaithful to you."

Jessica snorted. Dave turned to her with incredulity. "Honey," she said, "you've been having an affair for as long as we've been together."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I know about your little chat sessions with your soulmate, Melanie."

He swallowed hard. "Melanie? What does she have to do with this?"

Jessica suddenly regained her composure and turned to face him, defiantly. "Ever since you got your cellphone, you have virtually ignored me, as if I'm not in the same room. At first, I thought you were doing work. Then I noticed the expressions on your face, and I became curious. So, a while back, just before the accident, I went through your phone. I found a chat app hidden in the accessories. I read months - years - worth of messages between you and Melanie."

"She's an old friend. So what?"

"She's more than a friend! You share everything with her - things you refuse to share with me. You open up to her. You've told her you love her."

"I say that to all my friends."

"Yes, but it's crystal clear that you mean it a little more when it comes to her."

swingerjoe
swingerjoe
1,319 Followers