Cost of an Oath

This is a rather dark, bleak tale. There's an element of truth in this one. (Though changed to protect the guilty.) If you do not like dark, bleak non-stroke stories, please read no further for your own sake.

He brushed the dirt from his hands and looked down at the grave of his only son, Simon. Dead at twelve from a particularly aggressive form of cancer for which there was still no cure.

He was, or rather, had been their only child. They'd briefly mentioned having another but his wife had rejected the idea out of hand.

Simon had been dead for two years and Bradley still liked to come to the grave to talk to his son.

His relationship with his wife had never picked up following Simon's death.

Bradley had wanted them to go to counselling, but she? Well, she was so against it that he had given up pursuing the matter.

And now? Bradley thought he knew the truth. He knew why his wife had never wanted another baby and why she'd rejected counselling. And he realised the problems were deeper and far older than he'd thought possible.

Bradley listened to the recording of the party and felt as if he were cold. Though it was the height of summer.

He had known that things between himself and Jill were bad. She had been weird for many years but had got even weirder over the last six months or so. She had began criticising him and picking fault with him and deliberately starting arguments over nothing.

Eventually she sat him down at the kitchen table and had paced around the room as if she were feeling wired. Her mood was strange, but she seemed a good deal calmer than she had been of late.

"What's wrong Jill? You have something on your mind."

She turned and faced him. "Bradley, you and me we haven't been getting on well in the longest time. And, I think it's time we had a trial separation."

He felt his stomach burn with acid. "When will you leave?"

She looked shocked. "Oh, honey, I thought you should leave. I mean, it's not like I'm going to ask for a divorce or anything. And I promise you on our son's grave and on your life, that there's nobody else, before you ask that question. I just need time apart to figure some stuff out."

Bradley wasn't stupid. It hurt him that she would use their son's grave to swear out something that was probably a lie. The fact she chose to make the oath on his life and not her own? He thought that significant. Not that he felt that he particularly valued his life at the precise moment.

"So," said Bradley, "will you consider having couple's counselling to help us find a way through this?"

She shook her head. "You know my opinion on counselling. But... I'm not saying no to therapy for us, but what I am saying is that would be something for the future, not just yet. I don't feel I'm ready for that, at the moment. But I'm certainly not ruling it out."

He glanced over toward her. "When do you want me to leave?"

"Well, not immediately, obviously."

A look of pain crossed his face. "I'll get out of your way as soon as I can. I'll make the arrangements as quick as possible."

She looked relieved and said: "Are you going in to work today?

He shook his head. "Not today. You?"

"Yes, I've meetings over at Advanced Synergies, which will probably take all day."

He nodded. "OK. How are you going to tell people we are splitting up?"

"We aren't going to be splitting up! This is just a temporary separation!" She was exasperated by his reply.

She continued, a little calmer: "There's no need to mention this to anyone, yet. If ever."

He shrugged.

She failed to read the expression on his face. Which was a pity, because at that point she could still have saved the situation. But she didn't. Hadn't really wanted to, in any case.

Afterwards, she left for work.

Bradley knew he had enough time to get some stuff sorted out.

Bradley was the wrong person to mess with. He had been In the Military Police and had done a number of highly sensitive undercover jobs to bust drug gangs on army bases so had vast experience in covert surveillance. In fact, he still did the same type of work in civilian life, with the City Police Department, having finished 10 years in the army when he had been 29 years old.

He had a number of VARs and motion sensitive miniature video cameras that he could place throughout the house. Each one had a terabyte card so could record months of material if that was required.

Once his job was done he packed a couple of suitcases and booked himself into a motel.

When Jill arrived home she was angry that Bradley had already gone.

"Son of a bitch!" She shouted. "He's gone!"

Her friend Mandy Starbuck was with her. "Isn't that a little harsh, Jill? After all, you did ask him to move out. Or are you one of those women who are never quite satisfied with their husband?" She laughed at her own joke. Which was just as well, as Jill didn't see the humour in it.

"Anyway," said Mandy, "now he's gone why don't we move our Girl's Night In up a few weeks?"

"Yes," said Jill. "Now I have got rid of Bradley things can be so different around here!"

That hurt Bradley. But he was wise enough to not let Jill know. After all, he had faced down Mafia killers and bluffed his way through. So dealing with a cheating spouse should be child's play, he thought. But was she really cheating? He'd know soon enough.

It all came to a head after Bradley heard the recording of the so-called Girl's Night In at the house.

Wine flowed and as the old saying goes, 'when drink's in, wits out.'

There was Jill as the party host and Mandy and several other squawking, clucking females in attendance.

Bradley learned that Jill had been cheating on him for the past five years. With multiple lovers. And that one of her lovers was a very wealthy businessman from South America. He had arranged for Jill to be flown out on his private jet non-stop to Rio.

The women mocked Bradley. But the worst of them all was Jill. "And he never had a fucking clue about any of my lovers!"

They laughed and cackled like a set of witches.

Bradley listened to the rest of the recording in abject misery. There was nothing he could do. Wait! Yes, there was. It would put him well beyond the reach of Jill and her lovers.

He visited Simon's grave. "Don't worry, son! I'll be with you, soon. We'll be together again."

He knew Jill would be at work so he was able to enter the garage of their house (he no longer considered it a home) and pick up what he needed.

Bradley drove his car to a secluded semi-rural area on the edge of town, well away from the road.

Sobbing with what he was doing, Bradley placed the long piece of rubber tubing from the exhaust into the car. He turned the engine on and let it idle as the deadly Carbon Monoxide fumes did their work.

Bradley's last words were: "I'm sorry, Simon. I am so sorry, my boy. But this way we can be together for all time. Just like I promised."

The note that Bradley emailed to everyone in his and Jill's email address books was short and to the point: "You made an oath on Simon's grave and on my life that you weren't cheating. But you were cheating, so I am making good your oath. Good bye, Jill. I loved you, Bradley."

After the funeral a lot of Jill's friends dropped her like hot cakes. After all, cheating on your husband was bad enough but hurting him so much he felt suicide was the only option?

And the mothers in her group of friends really felt disturbed by the fact that she had sworn out a solemn oath on her son's grave when that had been a bald faced lie.

Jill decided to take up here lover's offer and she went to South America with him.

Mandy hadn't heard from her after the initial call when she arrived in Rio, even though she had promised to keep in touch.

But then the life of a 'Meretriz Inglês' in Rio is about as shitty and as brutal as one would expect. But a white American woman? Some wealthy South American men would pay plenty for her services.

Payback was a bitch.