Ivory

First things first, I needed to get some deep heat on my arm. I walked up the stairs still hummingIvory.I stopped because I heard some noise coming from our bedroom. I walked slowly to our bedroom door, and softly pushed it opened.

Ivy was on all fours on our bed, getting fucked from behind by some guy that I didn't recognize. I gave a loud gasp, and went into some type of mental shock. Somehow, I just couldn't believe my eyes. Ivy must have heard my gasp, because she stopped fucking the guy, although he was still inside of her.

"AJ, would you go downstairs to the kitchen. As soon as I am done here, I will be down to explain everything to you," she said.

I turned and walked down the stairs to the kitchen table in a daze. Fifteen minutes or so later, she came down wearing a robe, and dragging a small suitcase behind her.

"AJ, I'm sorry that you had to see that. I didn't want you to find out that way. I sent the kids to my folk's house for the weekend. I planned on telling you this weekend that our marriage is over and that I filed for divorce today. You should get the papers served on you either Tuesday or Wednesday," she said.

I just stared at her, and then mouth the word, "Why?"

"I still love you, but not the way a wife should love her husband. My first husband Kevin was my soulmate. When we made love, the electricity just flowed between us. He would just touch me sexually, and I would have an organism. When Kevin and I made love, I would at least have four or five organisms. No man has ever made love to me like Kevin did. You're a good lover, but not like Kevin. I could get off from your lovemaking, but not that often. "

She continued, "Ever since I met you, I was fucking different men, trying to find the one that would light my fire. You were my security blanket. I always had you to fall back to. You were a kind and loving husband and a good father to the children. All through our marriage, I must have fucked a different guy every month. Hell, I am not even sure if our two children are really yours."

"Then Doug came to work at the bank. When Doug and I made love, he sent that same flow of electricity through me. I knew that I had found my new soulmate. I am sorry about all of this, AJ. I packed a bag with some of your clothes. I'll pack the rest up this weekend and put them out by the storage shed. You can pick them up any time after this weekend," she said.

I was just staring at her all the time she spoke to me. I never said a word, or asked any questions.

She continued, "Don't fight me on the divorce. We'll split everything 50/50. We can both keep our retirements, but you will have to pay me the difference between the retirements to make it fair. Also, you'll have to pay child support, but no support maintenance to me. If you don't go along with this, I will make it very difficult for you to see the children."

I just stared at her.

"For god sakes, AJ, say something," she snapped.

I continued to stare at her without saying a word.

She got up and walked up the stairs, without a word or a look back.

A couple of minutes after she disappeared from sight, I got up and grabbed my cell phone which had been recording the whole conversation. I grabbed the bag she packed with my right arm.Ouch, that hurt.All during that time, I had forgotten about my injured arm.

I switched the bag to my other hand and left the house. I put the bag in the Expedition, got in and drove around aimlessly. Somehow I ended up back at the bowling alley.

It seemed like forever since she dropped the bomb on me, in reality it was just over an hour. I'm not sure why I stopped there, I guess I had no place else to go to. When I walked into the bowling alley, the guys were still sitting at the table. They must have just finished bowling.

"Hey look what the cat just dragged in," Terry hooted.

"Wow you look awful," Nick said.

"What happened to you?" Dave asked.

I sat down at the table with tears running down my cheeks. I laid my head on my hands on the table and started to sob. They looked at me with stunned faces. After I had calmed down, they worked the story out of me.

"I can't believe that bitch," Ralph said.

I looked around at the guys, and noticed both Terry and Dave had their cell phones out and they were talking on them. Ralph and Nick were trying to cheer me up.

Terry said, "I just talked with my cousin. He practices family law and is a really good divorce attorney. He wants to meet with you at lunch time tomorrow."

Dave spoke up, "My brother has a farm with a big empty shed. He'll let me barrow his truck and trailer to move all your stuff to his shed for storage."

"I have a spare bedroom that you can stay in until you find a place," Nick said.

We talked strategy over a pitcher of beer and made a plan. We agreed to meet at my house right after my soon to be ex-wife leaves to take the kids to school and goes to work.

We got a few other friends to help. One guy was to be the spy, keeping tabs on Ivy and letting us know if she leaves the bank. It is nice to have friends. They all planned to take Friday off to help me.

Friday morning right after Ivy left with the kids, two pickup trucks with trailers were at my storage shed getting all my stuff. There was nothing in the shed that belonged to Ivy. I was in the house packing up all the rest of my possessions and clothes.

I met with Marty, my attorney at noon. While we had sandwiches in his office, I retold my tale of the last couple of days. I told him about our financial situation. Ivy took care of the gas for her car, groceries, hers and the children's expenses. I took care of the house payment, taxes, household expenses and maintenance, the maintenance of both cars, and any other expenses that occurred. We both had our own retirement funds. I made three times as much at Ford, as Ivy did at the bank.

Marty asked, "What just did I want to do when I received the divorced papers?"

"I want to fight her tooth and nail. If I am going down, I plan on fighting to the bitter end," I told him. "Marty, I want to cash out my retirement and put it in a trust fund for my kids' college fund. I want you to be the trustee of the trust fund for both Linda, and David. I don't care if I'm their biological father or not. I raised them as my kids, and I will take care of their college fund. I know that Ivy won't."

"The judge might buy setting up a trust fund with your retirement money for the children's education," he said.

What I didn't tell him is that I was getting the rest of my money out of dodge. There was no way that cunt was getting any of my money. When I got done with her in the divorce, I planned to leave the fucking bitch broke.

I moved most of my money overseas into a secure bank. I had the guys slowly sell off all of my possessions that were in the farm storage shed. I sold my Expedition and bought a junker.

I had Marty set up another trust fund for both kids which had one-hundred- thousand dollars to be split between the two of them. The trust would pay each of them one-hundred dollars a month. Any additional withdrawals would need the Marty's approval. When each of my kids reached twenty-five, their portion of trust fund would be turned over to them. Then they could do with it as they pleased, without any strings attached.

At that time, David was eight years old, and Linda was six. The fifty grand each would last them at least forty years if they stayed on course and didn't deplete it when they got twenty-five.

Marty was to monitor them and make sure Ivy didn't take their money and spend it on herself. I had setup specific guidelines on just how the money could be used.

Chapter Five

I got served the divorce papers on the following Tuesday. She sued for irreconcilable difference, and we counter sue for infidelity. She got pissed and with held the kids from me. We ended up going to court so I could get visitation rights for the kids. The divorce didn't go the way Ivy had planned for it to go. I fought her on every turn. We finally ended up in court. We couldn't agree on anything. I had quit my job at Ford, and financial documents that showed I am cash poor. I prepaid my attorney a huge retainer to handle all the work that I am throwing his way. We have been fighting over this divorce for the last six months.

In court, she claimed that I had more than $500,000, but she and her attorney couldn't prove it. She was pissed that I had set up trust funds for the kid's education and their wellbeing. Her attorney tried to get the judge to dissolve both trust funds.

The judge ruled that the trust funds were legal because they were for the kids only, with no way for me to access them. Next, they turned their attention to getting twice as much child support as the normal guidelines provide.

"Your Honor, may I address the bench?" I asked.

"Go ahead, Mr. Smith."

"Your honor I have reasonable doubt that David, and Linda are not my children," I said.

Ivy jumped up screaming, "You lying son of a bitch they are to your kids!"

The judge bangs his gavel a few times. "Counselor would you please keep your client under control, or I will have her removed from my courtroom," he said.

Ivy's attorney is busy trying to calm her down.

The judge turned his attention to me. "Now just what causes you to make that statement Mr. Smith," he said.

"Your Honor if I could play this recording on my cell phone, which might proof my statement?" I asked.

Ivy's attorney stood up, "Your Honor I object, we haven't heard this recording, and we have no way to determine if this recording is actual and factual," he stated.

"Objections noted, but I would like to hear the recording. Then I will rule if I will admit it as evidence," the judge said. "Play the recording, Mr. Smith."

I played the whole recording of her admitting to her numerous affairs, and saying that she didn't know if the kids were really mine or not. When the recording is finished, I turned it off and looked at the judge. He looked pissed.

The judge snapped, "Counselors please approach the bench."

There is a lot of whispering and arguing, finally both attorneys returned to their tables.

"I am recessing this case for twenty days. I want Mr. and Mrs. Smith and their children, David and Linda, subjected to parental DNA tests. I expect these results to be complete by the time we come back to court for this case," he said.

Twenty days later we are in court. I am still in the reserves so I wore my full dress uniform, with all my metals and ribbons. I wanted the judge to know that I am a highly decorated veteran. The DNA tests confirmed the kids were mine, as I expected they would. I just wanted to keep Ivy off guard and pissed.

In discovery, I had to produce the last three years of tax returns. The returns showed that I made $91,000 from Ford, and Ivy made $31,200 at the bank. With my bonus figured in, I made $1750.00 per week. After taxes, I brought home around $1300.00. When the judge agreed with Ivy on what my child support, spousal maintenance, house payment, taxes, and maintenance would be, I was left with $250 per week to live on.

"Your Honor, may I speak?" I asked.

"Go ahead, Mr. Smith."

"I'm the victim here. I didn't ask her to cheat and become a slut. I never did anything wrong. I have always been a good provider. I loved her; I love my children. She got the house she wanted, and all the toys to go with the house. She got the car she wanted. She got all the men she wanted. But, I am the one who gets punished here. How is that fair? Where is the justice?" I said.

"Mr. Smith that is the way the law is set up. We are a law abiding society and must live with the laws as they are written," he responded to me.

"Your Honor this is supposed to be a fifty-fifty split state. I don't see a fifty-fifty split here," I said.

"With children involved the split becomes different," he replied.

"Your Honor I have no way to pay. I don't have a job and I don't have any type of income. The rest of my savings is tied up in the trust funds for my children. I have no way to make these types of payments," I said.

"Well Mr. Smith you will just have to get your old job back, or find a different job. As of right now those payments stand," he said.

"Your Honor, I was in the army for eight years, three tours between Iraq and Afghanistan. Over there the main law was to survive. You watched your buddy's back and he watched yours. You took no chances, because one mistake and your life could end, or the life of your buddy. Do you know what is like to watch your one of your buddies get their head blown apart, and their brains and blood splattered all over you? Or, to have a RPG hit your vehicle, and have pieces of shrapnel flying around the inside of the Hummer slicing up your friends. There is honor there. Ivy's actions have shown a total lack of honor," I said.

"Mr. Smith we all appreciate your valuable service to our country, but that has nothing to do with this divorce case. Is there anything else that you would like to add?" he asked.

"Yes Your Honor,"

"Go ahead, Mr. Smith."

"Just suppose for the sake of argument that instead of me standing here, you have a different person who is a decorated soldier of the desert wars. Unknown to you this soldier suffers from post-traumatic stress disorder. Somehow, he ends up with a pistol in his hands. Just how the gun got there is unknown. Bang! One shot between the eyes of the judge, and bang, one shot between the eyes of his soon to be ex-wife. All this happens in about five seconds. He puts the gun down on the table, and sits down in his chair with his hands behind his head," I paused for a second to catch my breath.

"The bailiff secures the soldier and takes him to a holding cell, and then on to jail. Meanwhile, the judge and the ex-wife are both dead. The soldier tells his attorney to contact the army, and tell them what happened. The army swoops down with a couple of jag officers, and some doctors. They wave a bunch of writs and grab the soldier. They take the soldier back to Washington. After a few years of observation and testing, the soldier declared free of post-traumatic stress disorder and released from all pending charges.

"Now, Your Honor, the soldier is free, and both the judge and the ex-wife are still dead. But, that is the law. Is it a good law for the judge and the ex-wife? The judge is dead and his family is mourning the judge's death. The ex-wife is dead, but nobody will mourn her loss. The law is on the side of the soldier. Is this what you call justice?"

Well you can imagine that the judge was very pissed, and wanted me strung up on charges, but ended up just citing me for contempt of court. I was given the choice of thirty days in jail or one thousand-dollar fine. Since I don't have any money, and no job to go to, I took the thirty days. But, it wasn't so bad in there. I was some kind of hero for standing up to the judge like that. In addition, being a war vet helped my standings in jail. I am finishing up writing this story in the county jail, compliments of my divorce case judge. I guess that he didn't appreciate my story of how the law should work. . Now back to finishing the story.

Epilog

After my thirty days are finished, I was released. Marty was there to pick me up. He took me back to my tiny apartment where he had my junker parked in its proper space. He filled me in on what had happened in the last thirty days. It seems that the bank got nervous and transferred Doug to the Dallas office. Marty never did hear if Doug's wife divorced him. Ivy was demoted to teller. She ended up filling in at different banks where they were short of help for a day. She took a five-dollar cut in pay also.

The next day I went to the Ford offices and talked to my former boss. We had set up before the divorce that once I was ready, they would rehire me and send me to their new plant in Camacari, Brazil.

Marty got me some time with my kids before I left. A week later, I boarded a plane for New York, where I would take a plane to the Cayman Islands. I spent a week there resting and had $200,000 transferred to my bank in Camacari. I left the Cayman Islands for my new home, Camacari.

After a couple of months there, I met Maria Amanda Garcia. Maria was three-quarters Brazilian and one-quarter Italian, extremely beautiful, with light Spanish features. She was tall, 5'8", maybe weighed 125 pounds, with long black hair, brown eyes, hourglass figure (36-25-35). She had a beautiful three-year-old daughter Monique, named after her grandmother. Maria was a widow; her husband had been killed in a car accident two years before we met. She got a huge settlement from the driver's family. Also, her family was very well to do.

Within three months we were married, and four months later our son Victor was born. He was named after Maria's father. We purchased a nice five-bedroom house. I got a heck of a deal on the house. I wired my bank in the Caymans, and had them transfer another $200,000. Maria kicked in $200,000 also. The $400,000.00 cover the agreed upon price for the house.

On night, I got a call from Marty. "AJ, Ivy messed up with her new boyfriend, and got caught embezzling money from her bank. The kids are staying at her sister's house for the time being. I think it would be a good time for you to try to get custody of your children. Ivy is probably going to jail for two to five years."

"Wow that would be great if you could get my children for me. You know that I am married to a beautiful lady named Maria. She has a daughter from a previous marriage, and we have a little boy together," I said.

Marty came through and my two children joined us here in Camacari. Denise, Ivy's daughter from her marriage with Kevin, decided to live with Ivy's sister in Michigan.

Sometimes the good guy wins, and the bitch is in jail.

I would like to thank my two editors who help make this story readable. Barney R did the initial editing and Brad Carpenter who did the final editing. Thanks to both for helping to correct all the errors. I did do some minor revision to this story, and as always all mistakes and errors are mine.