Grim Reality

Shelving the big issue, my mind turned to the immediate problem. How to get home before her. Luckily she realised she had left her purse in his house and they went back to get it. It was in bed, pretending to be asleep when she got there. I won't relate in as much detail the rest the rest of the story I told Tracey but in essence. I pretended to leave late the next afternoon just on nightfall, then returned to hide in the vacant block across the road until she drove to Joe's place. I followed her on foot then watched through the window until they'd finished talking and foreplay on the couch and disappeared into the bedroom. Breaking into the house through an open window I removed her copies of my debit card, MasterCard, car key and my brother's house key from her purse. As an afterthought I removed all the cash from her wallet as compensation for my understanding and effort. I then paused with the sounds of their sex stripping away my soul. I wondered if she was going to do her speciality. She loved blowing cocks. She had a special party piece. While on her knees, she would take your cock out of her mouth and in a sweet voice say, "Are you going to cum in my mouth?" It would make a two day old corpse start to drool. I left the house, unlocked her car and with the engine off backed it down to the bitumen, started the engine and drove it to my brother's house. I locked it in the shed after removing her personal items. I then cleared all her stuff out of the house and threw it all down the back steps.

Despite the late hour, I used my brother's phone to ring her mom and explained my side of the story and told her she would need to help their daughter out getting home. I locked the doors and went home.

The three times Cindy tried to call after that I hung up on her. I did accept a phone call from her dad apologising for his daughter's behaviour. I never saw or heard from the bitch again.

Tracey could tell from the emotion in my voice that I was still deeply affected by this episode and knew what my opinion on cheaters was. I went on to say that I deeply regretted not exacting more revenge at the time and reading other's, over the top stories, was somehow cathartic. We snuggled until we went to sleep.

So there I was sitting on the garage floor feeling a bit sad because my wife didn't trust me. Going back to the list I kept reading.

Dress/behaviour changes.

Sudden disrespect.

Refusing sex.

Sloppy seconds.

Hickies.

Make up awry/fresh.

Wet hair/smell of soap.

Other spouse found out and blabbed.

Credit card bill/phone bill.

Phone tap.

Partner bragging.

Caught on a girls night out/party.

Talking about another person often then stopping.

Overhearing others talking.

Kids letting something slip.

Fellow girls nighters seen somewhere else or letting something slip.

Guilty conscience.

Condoms/ BC pills.

Followed to date.

Used rubber/ empty douches.

Lying eyes.

Anonymously ratted on.

Pregnant.

Lost wedding ring.

Changed sexual behaviour.

Found phone tap and cameras.

Found diary/phone in her car.

By the time I was even half way down this list my heart was pounding and there was a roar in my ears. I looked back.

Sloppy seconds, make up awry/fresh, caught on a girl's night out/party, fellow girl's nighters seen somewhere else or letting something slip, BC pills, empty douches, pregnant, found diary/phone in her car.

None of these made sense if they were a list of ways to check if I was cheating.

They made perfect sense if you were a woman who wanted to cheat and not be caught. WHAT THE FUCK WAS GOING ON?

I immediately went into crisis mode. I finished going through the rest of the scrunched up papers then tipped the bin out again and did the whole lot again. Nothing. The recycle bin is collected every two weeks so I knew the list was recent.

Tracey arrived home in time for the dinner I had made. I looked in her eyes before giving her a welcome kiss but couldn't see anything. I forced myself out of the 'mode' and tried to act normal. I had read in stories that it was difficult, but every author greatly understated how hard it was. It is torture.

That night the idea of sleeping was a joke. I started by examining our partnership looking for clues and before I knew it I was in the mode again. What does any crime need? Means, motive, opportunity. She had the means to do it, item one, a vagina. Opportunity. Times I'm working and she's not, girl's nights out, separate activities.

I spent most of the time on motives. I thought back to all the stories I had read. Most boiled down to disrespect, the quest for different experiences from a virgin bride, the hunt for a more satisfying cock, escape from an unsatisfying sex life. No solutions there. There was no reason for any disrespect. I had always treated her well and had a respectable job and income. I knew she had had half a dozen sex partners before me so I couldn't see curiosity being a motive. My cock was just shy of 8" the last time I checked although that admittedly was when I was still in my teens. An unsatisfying sex life? That struck a chord. I had a very unsatisfying one. Tracey just didn't appear to be interested in sex. By a year into our marriage our once a week tumble had become boring. I had to initiate it 95% of the time and received two knock backs for every success. She denied having any fantasies, had let me buy her a vibrator under sufferance and denied me anything but straight sex. Don't get me wrong, she appeared to enjoy it when we did it and I didn't stop until she'd had at least one orgasm and they were genuine.

I had noticed she was easier to fire up when I complimented her on parts of her body, I know she had a poor body image but I ran out of ideas after a few months so that had faded away.

My mind wandered to that time, about a year ago, when my hopes had lifted. I had her on her stomach with my hand under her rubbing her clit while I licked her pussy. She was loving it but wasn't getting that last stage to orgasm. As a pure long shot I let my tongue drift from her pussy to her perineum then back again. I thought she might see where this was going and was waiting for her to object. To my amazement her moans got louder. I kept it going for five minutes and once again she plateaued out. Half expecting a slapped face, my next foray north went further and I licked her anus. To my absolute pleasure she immediately came and it was obvious it was a good one. With great hope for the future I cuddled up to her. Only to be told five minutes later that although she had enjoyed it, it was not to happen again. No, the idea of her having an affair for sex reasons just didn't make sense.

Having discounted all the sex related reasons, the only other reason I could think of, about two O'clock in the morning, was emotional. I thought on that. I hardly ever travelled, I spent all my free time at home with her and the kids, and I made an effort never to show that she was any less of a priority to me than the kids. I helped her with the house and kids way more than most men. Shit, I supported her in any way I could. We had lots of cuddles, talked to each other easily and deeply and made all major decisions as a team. Sure we didn't kiss for hours like teens but surely we couldn't be expected to. I was still a romantic. I bought her flowers and chocolates regularly and made a point of never approaching her for sex on those nights to so as not to devalue the gesture. Thinking back on it, most of the times she had instigated sex was when I had done this but it wasn't an expectation.

I just couldn't think of anything. Except, 'discount the impossible Dave'. Could she have found someone better than me? That wasn't impossible so I couldn't discount it. If that was the case, our marriage could be in trouble. Had she already met someone? Had she already started cheating?

I don't know what time I drifted off to sleep but I woke with a start and a niggling idea.

I got up and put my work clothes on and pulled the folded sheet of paper out of my pocket. Yes, I was right. The list filled the page right to the end. Was there another page? It wasn't in the bin. If it existed where was it? I had checked the desk thoroughly yesterday looking for my list so knew it wasn't there. Then I had an idea, went into the study and grabbed the blank pad from the top of the desk. Putting it into my work bag I went to work.

The morning round of meetings passed unusually slowly today. I was way off my game and distracted. With business on auto pilot I went back to my office and hit the internet. I started googling, 'recovering impressions from paper', and followed with a few refinements. This gave me the answer I remembered. A youth spent reading detective novels finally paid off. A short trip to the hardware store, one bottle of graphite powder.

Back in my office I closed the door and removed the blank notebook from my bag. Following the instructions, I sprinkled the ultrafine graphite powder over the front page of the pad. Then, very gently from the side I blew most of it off the page. Yes you guessed it, my guess that a second page had been written on, then removed was right. In all good detective novels the imprint of the last page used would be indented on the next.

If my blood hadn't been boiling so much I may have laughed at the indistinct but clearly legible heading of the hidden page's writing. 'To Do'. The last 1% of doubt was removed from my mind.

The second page.

No photos.

Check weekly for voice recorder or tracker in car. Check Ds CC bills and bank statements.

Never, bring L home, speak to him on the home phone or the mobile at home.

Never speak to L on new phone, text only.

Get 2nd phone, leave it at work. Never in purse or car.

(unreadable, first letters Se).

Practice being bluffed, no voice, eye or body language responses.

Don't tell anyone about him or be seen in public places. Travel separately.

Don't meet anywhere close and avoid car being visible.

Don't make eye contact with L in public.

Tell L no letters or presents. Hickies.

Soapless showers, don't wet hair, douche.

Check weekly not dressing or behaving differently. Maintain 4-5 .......... (indistinct).

(indistinct) ......espect.

Wear minimal make-up when going out, check before return.

Disposable panties, pads.

Warn L against bragging and talking, go through these precautions with him.

New bank account, second phone, PO Box. All kept at work.

Find out how to check for phone taps, monitor D's behaviour for changes.

Don't ever mention Ls name to D or anyone else.

Meet at 1 in 5 random GNOs. Never skip out on GNOs.

Guilty conscience, see how it goes.

Condoms, spermicide work. Dispose and douches.

Never remove rings.

Write nothing down.

At the bottom was what could only be called a shopping list. New BA, phone, PO box, douches, condoms, dice, undies, pads.

The cold clinicalness of this list made a mockery of the fear and anger I was feeling now.

Checking my credit card and bank statements could only mean she was watching to see if I purchased any surveillance equipment. The line about being bluffed was particularly cold if I assumed she intended practicing a response to me if I accused her of anything.

To arrange and pay for her trysts she was going to set up a separate bank account and get a second phone. So I didn't see the bills and other correspondence she was going to set up a post office box as the address for those accounts. So I never saw the second phone, it was going to be kept at her work.

GNO I could only think meant Girl's Nights Out. What the full meaning of "Meet at 1 in 5 random GNOs. Never skip out on GNOs" was I wasn't sure. If she didn't skip out on any nights and none of her friends were going to know about her boyfriend then how could she meet him there?

The line about condoms, douches and spermicide hurt me more than the rest. The rest were kind of abstract and could apply to an emotional affair. These items were specific on where this was all going. It sent an involuntary shudder right down to my soul. Pregnancy would be a real issue as I had had the snip after our second child.

The few indistinct and unreadable lines on the list worried me only slightly. I had enough to sink the bitch already. If the hidden page was a list of cardinal rules, then she had already broken a big one. Never write anything down. I reflected on my luck at finding the crumpled sheet in the recycle bin. It made perfect sense. I had never been lucky in the small things in life. Never won a contest or a raffle. But I was lucky in the big, important things, which always seemed to fall just right for me. This was never more the case than now.

So now I was faced with the age old dilemma. Do I stop this shit now or do I see how far it goes? I quickly discounted the first. All I'd found so far could be a theoretical exercise on her part. Challenging her now might stop it but wouldn't tell me the fundamental reason for it all nor guarantee it wouldn't happen again. I hadn't even paused in giving Cindy enough rope to hang herself but she had only been my second girlfriend and I had been in my twenties.

Now I am 41, too old to start again. The grim, frustrating reality of my situation now almost froze me. I had coached enough of my employees through divorces to know how they worked. No fault divorces had been entrenched for years. In a divorce Tracey, as primary care giver, would get the kids. As our youngest was only six, I could look forward to custody one weekend every two weeks. I would also lose the house and have to pay child support and alimony. I didn't give a fuck about the money but the kids were my reason to be on this earth, the sole purpose of every breath I took.

Only one certainty was in my mind at the moment. I couldn't live with a cheater. Shit, was I too late? I glanced at the list again. Who was L? Come on, turn off your emotions Dave. What did I know? The list was less than two weeks old, she already had a boyfriend, L. It was two days from her next girl's night out. I had no idea whether or not she was working this afternoon, could she be meeting someone now? The list showed she was being very smart in not being caught but showed no sign that she had prepared for any consequences of being caught. She already had a boyfriend. She might already have a second phone and an untraceable source of money. She already had a boyfriend!!! Fuck!!!

Things were urgent and being frozen in terror would not help. Forcing myself into the mode I returned to rational thought. One trip would probably give me everything I needed so I quickly planned it. I spent the next hour on the net researching and downloading. The $60 payment I charged to my company credit card. Yeah, didn't think of that did you bitch? This was common and I filled in the form to go to the accounts department for this amount to be deducted from my next salary payment. With a reputation for honesty to maintain I walked into my boss's office. I simply told him I had trouble at home and would be off my game for a while. He waited for me to go into more detail but when I didn't he just said ok. I left an hour earlier than usual and bought a cable on the way home.

In my car I pondered how I would treat Tracey. Should I do a charm and love offensive hoping to guilt her out of it? For the life of me I couldn't think how to be more loving, considerate and caring so that was out. Should I act normal? I already knew how hard pretending normalcy would be. Now I knew she had a boyfriend it would be harder still. Fuck it, why should I suffer. I would not act with the anger that I felt, but I wouldn't act normal. I would just be cold. If my behaviour changed just enough it may get her to pause whatever was going on and give me more time. I reminded myself that there was no evidence she had acted on anything yet. That gave me hope.

When I usually got home I would kiss Tracey first then go to the kids. This was deliberate to demonstrate the hierarchy of my love. This time, walking in the door I steered straight for the kids for my hugs and chatter. Sticking to the norm, I asked how their day was. Tracey, with an obvious disturbed look on her face interrupted me and came for her hug and kiss. With a deliberate, neutral expression on my face I kissed her on the cheek rather than the lips then broke quickly and went back to the kids. I couldn't remember the last time I hadn't asked her how her day had been. I watched her confused expression out of the corner of my eye. I knew two things at that point. She should never play poker and she would have to practice her responses to any 'bluff' questions from me very hard.

The rest of the early evening was routine, dinner, stories, bed for the kids. She reminded me about her girl's night out on Friday and confirmed I was ok to look after the kids. I stretched out the kid's bed time till 9.15PM and as soon as they were down I announced that I was really tired and was going to bed too. This got another quizzical look from her.

Being a bloke, going to bed consists of brushing teeth, having piss, putting on boxers and getting in bed. Three minutes tops. Girls seem to find much more to do than that so it was fifteen minutes later she joined me in bed. As I had my back turned to her she slid in and snuggled up to me. I deliberately tensed myself and felt her answering tension. Well bitch, your list included looking out for behavioural changes in me. Could I be much clearer? I briefly pondered how I could have gone from thinking her the love of my life to a bitch in just less than 24 hours. My anger answered that question for me.

"Honey, what's wrong," she said.

"Nothing, why," I replied.

"You've just been very detached tonight that's all, did you have a bad day?" she asked.

"No, I had a good day," I answered. In all my years of marriage I knew that was the first lie I had ever told her. She said nothing further and being exhausted from last night's deliberations I was asleep within minutes. I was aware that this night, it was she that tossed and turned all night.

As was normal I was up and gone before anyone else the next morning. I checked Tracey's purse, looking for the missing page. I was curious about the unreadable lines. Nothing there, she was covering her bases well. I checked her key ring. At work I was much more on my game than yesterday. I had all my plans in place so was able to compartmentalise my home issues into the background. I organised to take the afternoon off and drove the forty minutes to the old suburban house that was my wife's office, arriving just after noon. I had been there a couple of times before when I was in town during work days. Forcing a smile I walked into the reception area and asked my surprised wife if she would like to have lunch with me. Hearing my voice, her boss, Lance, came out and we chatted. He invited himself and Jenny, the paralegal, to the lunch after politely asking me if it was ok. Tracey went off to the ladies room, the others to get their jackets. This gave me the opportunity to quickly scan the room, Tracey's desk and particularly the external door frame.

Lunch was pleasant. Yes I'm not dumb. I know Lance starts with an L. I watched for any subliminal interaction between him and Tracey but picked up nothing. What small talk he made that wasn't about his family was about ours or Jenny's. Besides, he was 25 years older than us. After lunch I went back to work. At 5PM I rang Tracey and, lying again, told her we'd had an incident and I had to work late to investigate it. I stayed an hour longer than normal then stopped at a bar on the way home for one beer.

At 8PM I walked in the door of home. Tracey must have seen my car in the drive as she met me at the door. Again I avoided her lips and kissed her on the cheek. She asked me about my beer breath. I explained that I had decided to conduct the investigation in a bar to relax all the participants. I deliberately didn't make eye contact and tried to look slightly guilty. My plan was to put her into a flat spin. Both last night and tonight could be interpreted as me suspecting her of cheating or me starting to cheat. Keep your enemy on the back foot.