Lethal Weapon Pt. 02

When they awoke, they took a shower together and ended up in Jeff's old room making love again. Afterwards, Trish went into the kitchen, and was singing as she made lunch, still naked. Martin absolutely hated what he was about to do, but he had to do it. After they'd eaten lunch, he started the conversation.

"Trish. .? Why?" asked Martin.

"Why what?" she smiled.

"Why. . . after all of these years. . . all of a sudden, after I got hurt. . . has our sex has life started being like it was when we were first married, how could your phobia about sex, just disappear overnight?"

The look on Trish's face was hard to describe, there was concern, a little nervousness and fear.

"Aaaa. . . I-I don't know, I guess I. . . I became scared that I might lose you. When you got hurt, it really scared me," she speculated, "Martin, I don't know what I'd do without you."

He didn't want her to know that he knew about Roger just yet, he wanted some answers first. So he told her that he just wanted her to answer some questions he had about some things that had been bothering him for a while, "Are you satisfied with our sex life?"

"Why would you ask that? You know that I am!" she said.

"Am I big enough. .? Or should I say, do you wish I had a bigger cock?"

"NO. .! Martin, now you're being ridiculous!"

"Do you love me. .? I mean really really, truly love and desire me?"

"YES! Martin, where are you going with this?"

"Have you felt that way our entire marriage?" he asked.

"Of course. . . Martin!"

"OK. . . I want to ask you about your marriage to Roger."

Trish's face almost turned white when Martin mentioned Roger's name, and she looked away for a moment.

"I just want to know how you happened to end up with someone like him to begin with. I mean, you two were never what anyone would call a compatible couple. Your personalities were opposite, you were all about personable responsibility, and all he ever wanted to do was party and get high. . . he just wasn't your type."

"Martin, I. . . he. . . I thought I told you about this before," she replied.

"I just want to hear it again, maybe with more details. . . so I can maybe understand it better."

"I don't understand why you want to know this stuff. . . I've told you before, what does it have to do with anything?"

"Just that it's perplexed me for a long time, I just want to know what attracted you to him to begin with, was it because he had that big cock?"

"Martin. . . Stop it! No, I told you . . . He hurt me with it. Look Martin, you know that I wasn't that pretty in high school. Aft. . ."

"I always thought you were," he interrupted.

"Then why didn't you ask me out sooner. .? Huh. .? Like before he had a chance to."

Martin never answered, and she continued,

"Look, When I got out of high school. . ." Trish elucidated the whole story of how she met Roger and why she'd gone out with him because he was the only guy that had ever asked.

"I settled on Roger, I figured that he was my only chance of ever having a boyfriend or a husband. I gave him my virginity on his twentieth birthday. . . I thought that I loved him, but I never knew what love really was until I met you. I never got turned on, he didn't know what to do, and neither did I. And wouldn't you know it, I got pregnant the very first time we ever had sex. There you have it. . . Satisfied now?! Oh, and then we got married so that my mom wouldn't know that I was pregnant beforehand."

"So you're telling me that you never enjoyed sex with Roger at all, right?"

Trish's face turned bright red and she looked away again,

"We hardly ever had sex when we were married," she said, realizing afterwards that had not come out the way she intended.

Martin was starting to see how uncomfortable she was becoming at his questions, but he pressed on.

"Did you and Roger ever smoke pot, or get drunk together?" he asked.

"We lived at his parents house, you know them, so you should know how they feel about that kind of stuff," Trish stated.

He could tell that Trish was trying to skirt around the things that he was bringing up by not giving him direct answers, he knew that she didn't like to lie.

"Let me re-phrase that. . . Did you and Roger ever go out and get drunk or high. .?" Trish was shaking her head no, as he was speaking, and was caught a little off guard by his next statement,

"Like say, over at Amanda Swanson's apartment?"

Trish looked to be in a state of panic, she stumbled around with her words, trying to come up with an answer,

"I. . . I. . . No. . . No, I used to. . . to be friends with her. . . but. . . w-w-we were in the fifth grade. . . A-a-a-a, I don't think we could get our hands on that kind of stuff when we were that young," she said with a nervous laugh.

Trish was visibly shaking now, and Martin could tell that she was more than likely terrified to go any further with this topic.

"Back when I worked evenings, you know, back in the eighties. . . Well, more specifically, 1990. You should remember. . . the year your dad died. Well, you know how you were always asleep every night when I came in from work a little after midnight. .?" Martin asked.

"Yeah?" Trish replied, nervously.

"How many of those nights were you drunk or high?"

Trish looked down and Martin noticed a tear fall to the floor.

"Well. .?" Martin querried.

"Th-th-there were only a few. . . we only did that for a couple of months. . . I just missed you so much, and. . ." her voice faded.

"By we, you mean you and Amanda, don't you?"

"Yes," she said, in a defeated tone.

"OK, now I'm going to ask you again. . . Why?"

"Martin, I. . . I just missed you in the evenings so much. Before you took the job at ZMA, we both worked during the day and we spent our evenings together. . . I ran into Amanda while I was out shopping, I hadn't seen her in years. She invited me over to her place, and while I was there, she offered me a drink, and I accepted. . . It just kind of escalated from there. It helped me cope with you being gone in the evening."

"Trish, I just want you to know, I forgive you for getting drunk all those times. I'm not happy about it, but I think I understand," he stated.

He saw relief in her face and her body seemed to relax. She came over and put her arms around him, sighed and said, "Martin, I'm sorry I did that, Amanda was a really bad influence on me."

"That ain't no shit," he thought.

"I quit going to her apartment, and haven't even seen her since you went to the night shift," said Trish.

"That's because you started bringing 'Big Snake' over here to fuck," ran through his mind, and he came very close to saying it.

"You know how you got kind of loud with me last night?" Martin asked.

"Yeah," she giggled.

"Weren't you scared that you would wake the kids up when Roger made you come like that?"

"Ha, I always had to bury my face in a pillow," she chuckled, nonchalantly.

After realizing what she just said, she got a look of shock on her face, she was caught completely off guard by the question, which is what Martin had intended.

"You told me that he never even made you wet, let alone made you come! And there was only one child, a baby, not plural. . . Children?" Martin replied.

"I didn't mean. . ." she started.

"One more question, Trish! You know I don't work anymore and I'm home all of the time now. So, what would you be doing if Roger was still alive? Would you be finding excuses to sneak away from me, so that he could still be fucking you in the ass with his big snake?"

Trish pulled back from Martin and wobbled back a few steps, sitting down in a kitchen chair. Her eyes focused straight ahead, staring towards the living room.

"Well, would you. .?! Would you still be acting like a slut with his giant cock. . . and still being pretending to have a phobia about sex with me, YOUR HUSBAND?!!"

Trish didn't answer, just stared straight ahead. She didn't deny anything, didn't cry, just stared straight ahead and never said a word. Martin went into the bedroom and retrieved the envelope with the DNA test results from the closet. When he came back, she hadn't moved.

"I know that your family all knew, I talked to Jackie, she told me everything. . . well almost, I got the rest of the story from Amanda, I went and talked to her a while back. . . She told me how you two brought Roger back to her apartment, so that she could get some of his big cock. . . She told me how she used you to show Roger how to eat pussy, then how once you got him inside of you, you went wild. . . Funny, she didn't know that Roger had started coming over to MY house and fucking MY WIFE almost every night that I was at work. Amanda thought you quit coming around because you were avoiding him. . . Did you know that on the nights that I was home, that Roger was going over to Amanda's and fucking her, betcha didn't know that, did you?"

Trish looked up at Martin for a moment, but then turned her attention back to the living room.

"You know, what gets me, is. . . I still love you, I can't just turn it off, but at the same time, I hate your fucking guts. I can't work anymore, I can't go out and start over. I don't want to lose my house, or half of everything I own. I just don't know what in the hell I'm supposed to do. And then there's this!" he said, as he put the envelope on her lap.

She slowly looked down at the envelope, but nothing more.

"That envelope is the part that hurts the most," his voice broke, "You had to have known. . . you led me to believe that. . . that Nicholas and Damon were my children. . ."

"NO! They ARE yours," Trish cried out.

"Look at the papers inside, Trish. No, I'm afraid not, Roger is the biological father of all three of your children."

Trish opened the envelope and pulled out the papers, after looking through them, she collapsed to the floor and started sobbing. Martin walked into the bedroom, dressed and pulled the small suitcase that he had packed the day before from the closet, then walked back into the living room. Trish could see him from her position on the floor in the kitchen, and rose to her feet, running to him,

"NO NO, Martin!! NO DON'T GO!! Please don't go, I love you. . . I never loved him. . . Please!"

Martin stepped back and stared her down, her sobs continued,

"You never answered my question," he said.

She looked up at him with questioning eyes.

"Why?"

Trish still didn't answer and sat down on the floor staring out into space.

I'm going to leave for a while, when you feel that you can tell me why you felt you had to have sex with Roger for over twenty years, while you would barely sleep with me. . . please let me know."

Martin turned and walked out of the front door, leaving Trish sobbing on the floor. As soon as he climbed into his car, the tears fell and it wasn't long before the almost uncontrollable sobs came. Trish was too immersed in her own grief to notice that he hadn't driven away yet.

After half an hour passed, Martin was finally in enough control of his emotions to drive over to his oldest son's home. This was absolutely the hardest thing he'd ever had to do in his life, no matter what she'd done, he couldn't stop loving her. He just needed to know why, and what her true intent was.

Martin stayed at Jeff's for over a week, Jeff's wife only knew that Martin was there because he and Trish were having problems, no details were disclosed. Trish hadn't called, or shown up, he had not told her where he was going, but Martin assumed that she would have at least called her son to talk to him about it or ask if he'd seen his dad.

Jeff decided that it was time to check up on his mother to make sure she was alright, so he drove over to the house that her and Martin had shared. He knocked, but got no answer. Worried that something was wrong or that she'd harmed herself, he took out his key to unlock the door, but was surprised to find it already unlocked. He called out for her as he walked through the house, but got no reply. He found her in bed asleep, and shook her to make sure she was alright,

"Mom, MOM!" he said loudly.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, but didn't speak,

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Trish still didn't answer and as Jeff reached down to get her up out of bed, he noticed that she was naked, so he looked around until he found a blanket and wrapped her up in it, before getting her onto her feet. Then he noticed the smell, she apparently hadn't bathed in a while. Jeff started walking her towards the living room and she finally spoke,

"W-w-where's your father. . . I've done something horrible. . . it was horrible, I'm telling you."

"When did you eat last, mom?"

"Don't know."

"Have you been drinking any water or anything at all?"

Trish turned and motioned back towards the bedroom, "I'm thirsty. . . I need my cup off of the bedside table."

"No no, mom we're going into the kitchen so that you can eat something."

"Eat. .? I ate lunch with your father."

"Dads been over at my house for over a week mom, was that the last time you ate something?"

She nodded her head yes, Jeff sat her down in a chair and filled a glass with water, handing it to her and telling her to drink. He called Martin, explaining what he had found and asking him to please come over and talk with her. Martin drove over to the house and went inside, not exactly sure what to expect. When Jeff told him that Trish didn't look very good, he assumed that she had just been depressed and let herself go a little. After going inside, he was not prepared for what he saw, her hair was greasy and matted, her eyes were sunk back into her head and she looked as though she'd lost a considerable amount of weight. He almost didn't recognize her. Trish looked as if she was in a daze, she was staring at the kitchen floor, and when Martin got closer, he could also smell her.

He noticed that everything was left exactly the way it was when he left the week before. The dishes from lunch the last day he was there were still sitting on the table and Trish's clothes were still on the floor next to the couch, where he had placed them when he undressed her.

"Trish!" Martin called out.

She looked up at him, and tears started forming in her eyes,

"Martin. . . Martin. . . I've done something bad. . . I. . . I. . . my husband left me. . . I love him so much. . . but. . . No no no, MOTHER! NO. .! I can't do that. . . I won't!!"

Trish was delusional, she'd gone a week without food and had only had a limited amount of water. After Martin came in, Jeff had gone into the bedroom so that his parents could have some privacy. A few moments later, he came out,

"Dad, the bed is wet, and she didn't spill anything, if you know what I mean. I don't think she's been out of that bed since you left."

"Jeff, get a clean blanket out of the closet, we're taking your mother to the hospital!"

Jeff carried his mother out to the car and he and Martin drove her to the emergency room. After seeing a doctor, she was admitted.

While Trish was away in the hospital, Martin and Jeff took the bed outside and burned it, having a new bed delivered to the house in it's place. The hospital gave her a mental evaluation and would not allow her to leave, unless someone was at home to care for her. Martin decided to move back home for the time being, the new bed would be for Trish's sake, however, as he took up residence in Jeff's old room.

After Trish had been home for about six weeks, Martin sat down with her one afternoon to discuss their marriage. He explained to her, how he planned to proceed in the foreseeable future. He told her that there would be no divorce at the current time, but that may come in the future. There were certain conditions and rules that were to be followed, or he would leave for good.

Martin explained to her that the first rule was; The house was his, it was him, not her that had worked to pay for it and everything in it. For twenty years she had cuckolded him with another man that had taken more husbandly privileges with her than he had. She was a guest in HIS house, and had no say so in the matter. He was going to stay in Jeff's old room and would not be returning to the marital bed. He knew that he really didn't have a legal leg to stand on, but it didn't hurt to make her worry a bit.

The next was; Since she seemed to like sex so much, she was free to fuck whoever she wanted, but it was not to take place in HIS house. She could find some place else for her dalliances. He had the same option, only if he decided to sleep with someone else, he WOULD bring them back here. But he would be courteous about it, he wouldn't do it right in front of her. He thought he might put a marker on the bedroom door of some sort, letting her know to not disturb him. Also, he wouldn't parade any of the women around in front of her and she was not to say anything at all to anyone he brought home.

The third condition was; There would likely be no sexual contact between them, that she was not to come on to him, or initiate any sexual contact or discussions with him in any way. However, if there were to be any sexual situations, they would be started by him, and they would be just that. . . sex, no love making, just fucking.

Number four; She was not to tell him that she loved him, if she had loved him, she wouldn't have fucked Roger for all of those years. She was free to love him if she wished, but keep it to herself.

And finally, she had to tell him within a reasonable amount of time, 'why' she had her affair with Roger, and would it still be going on if he had not died.

Trish made a trip to visit her mother, telling her that Martin had found out about Roger, and if it wasn't for her, her marriage would be alright. After the confrontation, she told her mother that she didn't know if she ever wanted to talk to her again or not.

Life went on and thanks to Trish's mom and brother, the word was now out that Trish and Martin were split up, several men contacted her or let it be known that they were interested in getting together. Although there were plenty of opportunities, Trish never went out with anyone.

Martin made an attempt to date, and he talked to a few women around town, but couldn't bring himself to actually go out with any of them either, his heart just wasn't into it.

His whole intent, had been to see if Trish, not getting any sex from him, would seek it out from someone else.

---------

July 2012.

Three months had passed since Martin had laid down his conditions, he'd gone out to the strip pit again, trying to fish a little, but had ended up just sitting and relaxing again.

When he arrived at home, Trish was just leaving to go to the market, she told him she would be back in about an hour or so.

Going inside, Martin found a large manila envelope on the kitchen table with his name written on the front. His heart sank as he opened it up, certain that he would find divorce papers.

"I thought someone was supposed to deliver these to me and I was supposed to sign for them, what the fuck is this?" he said outloud.

He removed the papers from the envelope to find that instead of divorce papers, there was a long handwritten letter from Trish. Sitting down at the kitchen table, he started to read,

My dearest Martin,

This has taken me a long time to write, I've searched my soul and thought about how this all transpired, I've blocked it from my memory for so long. When you first asked me why I'd done what I had, I didn't answer you, because I honestly didn't know. After sitting down and thinking back and realizing just what had happened and what I had done, I was mortified. I got sucked into something that I couldn't, or should I say, didn't have the willpower to control. It didn't seem real, it still doesn't, it's as though I dreamed it all and I'm just now waking up.