Anger Management Ch. 02

"You're being ridiculous. How the hell can you even call it an affair? We've never touched each other."

"It's worse that that! It's an emotional affair!"

"How the hell can that be worse? You fucked a guy, but chatting is worse?"

"It's more than chatting, and you know it." Her tears began flowing once more. She dabbed at her cheeks with the sleeve of her bathrobe. "Frankly, I'd prefer it if you only fucked her. I could live with that. But, Dave, you hid that app for a reason. You knew I've always been a little jealous of your relationship with her. You told me you hardly kept in touch with her anymore. You lied. You have been intimate with her in a way that you've never been with me. You gave her your heart. I never gave my heart to anyone but you."

Dave shook his head and looked out the window. "This is insane."

"We'll talk about this later," she said, exiting the vehicle. "I have to get the kids ready for school."

Dave put in extra time at the mine to avoid his home as much as possible. He flipped through employee records and supervised the blasting of a potential new vein at the furthest end of the property. He contacted a divorce attorney and set up a meeting for the following week. He went through every banking and investment account he owned and made copies of the statements. Although he hadn't yet made his final decision, he wanted to ensure he had as much aligned as possible.

The sun had just disappeared below the horizon when he clocked out for the day. There was no moon that night, which made it the perfect night for the next item on his agenda. A little more than an hour later, his truck reappeared at the mining site. Instead of parking in his usual spot, he continued until he reached Sector 7-G. He parked just outside the entrance of the mine. It had been cordoned off, but he simply removed the barriers and went inside. He illuminated the light attached to his helmet and continued further into the mine until he found the wheelbarrow.

He whistled a lighthearted tune as he pushed the wheelbarrow back through the entrance and toward his truck. He opened the rear hatch, reached inside, and tugged. He hefted Dylan's hog-tied body into the wheelbarrow. Dylan's face was swollen. One eye was swollen shut, and he bled from his nose. Blood also seeped from beneath the duct tape that was stretched over his mouth. Dylan tried to speak, but his muffled voice was unintelligible.

Dave wheeled Dylan into the mine shaft and down the tunnel until he reached his destination. He unceremoniously tilted the wheelbarrow, spilling Dylan onto the ground. He grabbed another zip tie from the back of his pants and secured his captive to a steel pipe. He then reached down and removed the tape from his mouth.

"You can go ahead and scream," Dave said. "No one's gonna hear you way out here."

"Dave, what are you doing? Please listen to me—"

"Nah, I'm done listening. They're closing this sector tomorrow morning. Sealing the entry so that no one will ever come down here again. It would've been done months ago, but the fucking lawyers all insisted on keeping the crime scene open. You should have died in this hole, and now you will. I call this poetic justice."

"Dave, please, you can't do this, man. Think of what this will do to your soul."

Dave broke out into a hearty laugh. "My soul? Yeah, I'm really worried about that. Save your fairy tales, kid. That shit means nothing to me. All that matters to me right now is justice. But before I leave you here, I want to hear your version of the story. I left too quickly to hear it the last time we met. So tell me how it all went down that night."

"Dave, seriously, man, you can't just leave me down here to die!"

Dave grabbed a pickaxe leaning against the wall and swung it down toward Dylan, barely missing his foot. "I can make this a helluva lot more painful, trust me!"

"Okay, okay! It was just the one night! It didn't mean anything to either of us!"

"Did you rape her?"

"Rape her? Hell, no! Come on, man. It wasn't like that."

"Then how was it?"

"Listen, I was a completely different person back then. I thought I was the shit, you know? I got off on banging other guys' wives behind their backs. I always got away with it."

"Yeah, until now," Dave chuckled.

"I didn't know you that well back then, man. I wouldn't have done it if I had. Seriously, I didn't even make the connection until a while later. I thought she was just my old high school teacher. I thought it was hot to bang my old teacher."

"Yeah? How many of your buddies did you tell?"

"None! I swear! I only did it for myself. I was selfish and arrogant and stupid. I kept a journal of my exploits, like it was some kind of game."

Dave sat on a nearby boulder and twirled the axe handle in his hands. "So, how did it go down? Inquiring minds wanna know."

"I offered to drive her home after our reunion. I then stopped by my place. When I came out of the bathroom I saw her sitting on the bed, and...I don't know, man...I just went for it."

"Did she try to stop you?"

"She said stop, yeah."

"Then why didn't you stop?"

Dylan groaned and struggled with the zip ties. "Women...sometimes they say no when they mean yes, you know?"

"No, I don't. So, what are you saying? She was into it?"

"I thought so at the time. I mean...she was...wet."

That was all the confirmation Dave needed. "You son of a bitch," he said. He tore off a piece of duct tape from the roll and marched toward Dylan. "You wanted God to pass down his judgment? Well, here it is. Consider me the Hand of God. Burn in Hell, asshole!"

"Dave! Wait! You won't get away with this! There are cameras!"

Dave held the duct tape over Dylan's mouth and paused for a moment. "What are you talking about? What cameras?"

"Security cameras at my apartment complex. They'll see your face when you came to my door and walked me to your truck. There's a camera at the bank across the street. They'll get your license plate from that. They'll see you slug me and dump me in the back of the truck. There are cameras all along the highway, and at the gates here. There may be witnesses. They'll find my journal and make the connection. Please, Dave! You won't get away with this. If you don't care about God's judgment, think about what your kids will think when they learn Daddy is a murderer!"

Dave stood for a long while, thinking. He kicked the dirt and slammed the pickaxe into the nearest wall. "Fuck!"

"Dave, listen," Dylan said in a calm voice. "Just cut me loose, okay? I won't tell anyone about this. You fucked up my face pretty good. I deserved that. There's your justice right there."

"Fuck that. You deserve more than that. You deserve to die. I let you go, and you just walk away after what you did? You think that's justice? You're in line to make, what, a couple million from this settlement? Is that justice? I'll probably end up losing my job by the time this is all over. Where is the fucking justice in this fucked-up world? Huh?"

"I know you don't believe in this, Dave, but we'll both face judgment one day. That is when the ultimate justice is handed out. I plan to do so with a clean soul. If you leave me here, it will be a black stain on your soul for the rest of your life. Even if you get away with it, you'll always have my death on your conscience."

"I can live with that."

"No, Dave, you can't. Trust me. I am paying the penance for what I've done. I have to face many more wronged husbands in my future, once I'm able to track them down. I will face the consequences when I do. But the truth will set me free."

Dave scratched his head. The kid was right. He probably wouldn't get away with it, and would more than likely end up in prison. There would be no justice in that outcome. It seemed as though justice itself was a fictional concept. Dave extracted his knife and cut Dylan loose.

"You won't say a word to the police about this," Dave said.

"Not a word, I swear."

Dave looked him up and down and spit in his face. "You're a piece of shit, you know that? I hope the next jilted husband does kill you."

With that, he turned and exited the tunnel, leaving Dylan alone in the darkness.

Dave stood at the entrance of his home, dumbfounded. He had been making plans to leave his wife. He had even scouted the area for an apartment. Yet, there he stood at his front door with his mouth gaped open, watching his wife pull out of their driveway with his two kids in the back seat.

What gave her the right to leave him? She's the one who committed adultery. If she left the house, it should be because he kicked her out; not because she left voluntarily. And what was that bullshit she said about being afraid of him? He had never once threatened to hurt her or the kids. How the hell did he become the "bad guy" in this situation?

For the next several weeks, he kept to himself and enjoyed the peace and quiet of living alone. He worked as often as possible, and then came home to an empty house and cooked for himself. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to cook much of anything except spaghetti - and that got old quickly. He began calling Jessica repeatedly, but she let the calls go through to voicemail each time. He showed up at his in-laws' house and was met at the front door by his mother- and father-in-law, who politely asked him to leave. Finally, Jessica answered one of his calls. That conversation quickly morphed into an argument.

"Everything we had was a lie!" he shouted through the phone. "Our marriage, our family, all of it! You never really loved me, did you? It was all a fucking lie."

"No, Dave!" she replied. "It was all real. One bad mistake doesn't make it all a lie."

"Mistake?" he laughed. "Forgetting to take out the garbage is a mistake! Getting a bad tattoo is a mistake! You fucking spread your slutty legs for another man, Jess!"

"I know. It was terrible, and I'm a terrible person for having done it. I have lived with that guilt on my conscience for years. And I'm sorry. But what you did to Dylan was so far over the top, I can't believe you even thought of doing it. Murder? Is that really who you've become? Am I married to a murderer?"

"Not for much longer."

"Get help, Dave. Get help or you will lose everything that ever meant anything to you."

The call abruptly ended. Dave slammed the cellphone onto the table and sat in his chair, staring straight ahead, breathing heavily. Why was he even trying to reconcile with this woman? Who would want a cheating whore for a wife? He was better off without her.

He picked up his cell and flipped over to his chat application. "You there?" he typed. He smiled when Melanie responded. She understood him better than anyone on the planet. She was a good listener and provided excellent advice. Jessica wasn't wrong. He did love her, more than he loved his other friends. Although he had never been particularly attracted to her, physically, they shared an undeniable bond. Perhaps there was something more there.

"I'm coming for a visit," he typed. It was time to find out if there was more to their relationship than merely a strong friendship. If Jessica could have her fun on the side, why couldn't he?

"Thanks so much for meeting me," Dave said. He sat at an intimate table for two, with a glowing candle placed at the center. All around them, diners enjoyed the ambiance of the upscale restaurant.

"Are you kidding?" Melanie said. "I wouldn't miss this for the world!" She wore a flowery dress and high heels. The years had been kind to her. She looked better than Dave remembered since the last time he saw her. More than fifteen years had passed since then.

"You look great, Melanie."

She smiled and blushed. "Aww, thank you. You don't look so bad yourself. Hey - I was saving this news for when you got here. I heard a rumor through the grapevine that I think you'll find interesting. Remember Mr. Kelly, the gym teacher from middle school?"

"Hell yeah! How could I forget him? That dude scarred me for life."

"I saw a wedding announcement in the paper. He's now married...to another dude."

"I fucking knew it!" he shouted, slapping the table loudly. The diners surrounding them turned his way, and he lowered his voice. "That dude would sit there in a lawn chair, watching all those naked boys parade by him. School policy, my ass. We didn't have to shower - he wanted to see us shower!"

They shared many laughs over dinner and reconnected in a way that hadn't been possible via cellphone. After dinner, Dave suggested they head to a bar for an after-dinner drink. Melanie gladly accepted. They sat side-by-side at the bar and continued their conversation. It was so easy for him to speak to her. With Jessica, he was always afraid she would think less of him if he revealed his true thoughts and emotions. He felt no such concern when it came to Melanie.

She seemed to loosen up after a glass of wine. He decided the time was right to make his move by placing his hand on her knee. She reached down and placed her hand over his...and then gently removed it.

"Dave, you know I'm married," she said.

"I know," he said. "I just...haven't you ever wondered? About us?"

She smiled politely, but he could see a look of pity in her eyes. "I'm sorry if I ever gave you the wrong impression. We're just friends. Good friends." She patted his hand. A pity pat.

During the flight home, Dave couldn't help but take a mental inventory of his life. He recalled the days when he was single and living alone, when the only sexual pleasure he ever experienced was either self-induced or with a woman he had to pay to pleasure him. Did he really want to return to that lifestyle? Could he possibly find another woman to share the rest of his life? At age forty, he wasn't any more attractive than he had been at age thirteen. It was a miracle that Jessica came into his life. If he hadn't met her, he would probably still be alone. He wouldn't have two great kids, either. He didn't realize how much he cherished them until they were gone from his life.

If he took Jessica back into his life, how could he possibly live with her, knowing that she had sex with a younger, well-hung, man, who probably gave her more pleasure in that one moment than he had given her in fifteen years of marriage? Now that she had been awakened, sexually, how could she not cheat on him again going forward? How could he ever trust her again?

He returned to his empty house and to his favorite chair in his empty living room. He poured himself a glass of whiskey. Then another. Then another. When he awoke, he was sprawled on the floor with a pool of vomit next to his head. One bad turn and he would have met the same fate as his father. That was the wake-up call he needed. He contacted a mental health professional that morning.

"Dave, it's good to see you again," said Dr. Harris. "Please, have a seat. Tell me what's new."

Dave sat in his usual spot for the past several months and took a deep breath. "I'm in a good place, doc. I'm feeling good. I've been meditating every morning for fifteen to twenty minutes. I've been reciting my positive affirmations each morning. I'm waking up early to exercise, and I feel like I'm in better shape than ever."

"That is really great to hear! Outstanding. You certainly look like you're doing much better. What about your journaling? Have you been keeping up with it?"

"Honestly, doc, I haven't. It got to be tedious writing down my feelings every day. But I have found another outlet for that. I started writing stories."

"Stories?"

"Yeah, you know. Fiction. I forgot how much I enjoy writing. It's pretty much the only thing I enjoyed back in school."

"Well, that's great to hear. I'm glad you've found a healthy outlet for your anger. And the job?"

Dave shook his head. "I was officially let go last week. I knew once the settlements were complete, they'd let me go. Luckily, they gave me severance pay. I have a few jobs lined up, and an interview scheduled late next week."

"Yes, I read that Dylan Harrison received a $2.5 million settlement. How do you feel about that?"

Dave took a deep breath and forced a smile. "I feel that it's an injustice. But that's what fiction is for, right?"

"I think that's a very healthy way of looking at it. Now, how are things with your wife and children?"

"The kids are great. I have a standing lunch date with them every Sunday. Bryce and I are getting along better than ever. I took your advice and started taking an interest in his hobbies instead of wanting him to take an interest in mine. And Haley's doing really well in school. She's no dummy like her old man."

"Careful, now. No negative self-assessments, remember? Only positive. You have to love yourself before others can love you. Speaking of which, you didn't mention Jessica."

Dave sighed. "It's hard to tell where I'm at with her. She seems like she might be open to getting back together, but she's not fully convinced I've changed. I told her all that stuff is in the past. I told her I deleted the chat app, and I'm no longer in contact with Melanie. I told her about the meditation and the other tools you've given me to control my anger. But she still seems reluctant."

"You know, oftentimes, I find that what helps is some sort of grand gesture."

"A grand gesture? I'll have to think about that."

Jessica sat at the counter and took the last bite of her bagel. She caught the waitress' attention and signaled for the check. The waitress sauntered over to her and smiled.

"It's already taken care of, hon," the waitress said with a wink.

Jessica followed the waitress' line of vision and found Dave standing behind her.

"What do you call someone who won't fart in public?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes and smirked. "I don't know, what?"

"A private tutor."

She groaned and chuckled. "You've got a million of them. Thanks for paying the check. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the job?"

"Shit-canned," he said. "But it's okay. I'm working on a few leads."

"That's good," she said. She stood awkwardly for a moment and checked her phone for the time. "I have to get going. School day. Thanks for the breakfast."

"Jess, wait a minute. Take out your phone and open your YouTube app. I want you to see something."

"Dave, I really don't have time—"

"Please."

She reluctantly produced her phone. Dave took it from her, typed for a moment, and handed it back. "Bryce and I have been working on a little project together."

As she watched the video montage set to music, her eyes began to glisten. "It's our song," she croaked.

"It sure is."

She watched as a series of still photos filled her cellphone screen: their wedding, their honeymoon, the births of their children, Little League, and dance recitals. As the timeline shifted closer to the present, the still photos became a series of videos shot by Bryce. There was a clip of her lying on the couch, exhausted after a hard day at school. Dave entered the frame and gently covered her with a blanket. Another clip showed the family gathered around the dinner table, laughing. Another showed Dave teaching Haley how to ride a bike.

By the time the video ended, Jessica's cheeks were soaked with tears. Dave handed her a tissue. "It all happened," he said. "It wasn't all a lie. Jess, I've come to grips with the fact that we can't change whatever happened in the past. Good or bad, it brought us to where we are today. The only thing that matters is what we do today. I forgive you, Jess. Can you forgive me?"

"You need help with he dishes?" Dave asked.

"No, I got it," Jessica answered, "but thanks."

Dave returned to his dinner conversation with Bryce and Haley. Jessica smiled as she watched the three of them engage in a rather animated conversation. When the dishes were finished, she walked past them on the way to the stairs.