The Doctor is: In

As she opened the door, a sudden coldness gripped her, the inside of the house looked much the same but devoid of life, absent of love. The darkness inside the house was only compared to the one inside the pit of her stomach, perhaps he had worked late. Then she realized that he had not asked her to lunch, had not visited her office, had not even crossed paths with her in so long that she could not remember. In her shame, she realized that she was having trouble remembering his face, remembering the sound of his voice, or trying to imagine his smell. All her careful planning had placed her in this position, she had been so careful that she had failed to notice the lack of passion in her marriage. Anger took her at that moment, panic and guilt washed away almost immediately.

"That bastard," she screamed at the top of her lungs, "that cheating bastard." Had she maintained her sanity at that moment, she would have recognized the early signs of deflection and projection. In her mind, the only way that he could have gone as long as he had without any form of intimacy with her was because he was getting it from someone else. She had justified her actions as of late with that single statement, her guilt buried as deep inside her being as possible. Without thinking, moving completely in autopilot she again reached for her phone to dial that same number. This time the phone rang a few times before an unfamiliar voice answered.

...

Tracy looked at the feral man with a mixture of emotions, she could see complete honesty in his words. Ed continued to hold on to the man even as the latter began to calm, his ragged breathing growing steady. Stacy reached for her sister, pulling her into an absent embrace while Tracy continued to struggle with the information she had just learned. Troy had moved his hands in order to protect his face from the barrage of fists that just a second ago had been raining on him.

"You have one chance," Ed said as he looked down Troy, his disgust could not be concealed. He had cared for Tracy since the first day that his beloved had introduced them, as the years had passed they had blossomed into a sibling relationship. When she had introduced them to Troy, and later married him, he saw the man like a snake. "One chance to come clean, Troy. My buddy here wants blood, lie to us and I will help him get as much blood as he can." He felt his friend lose his resolve to struggle, replaced by a terrible shaking and deep breathing. He recognized that Bill was doing his best to hold it together, this man was prideful even in this uncomfortable situation. "Me and Bill are gonna go inside to grab a beer while he calms down," he told the women. "Once I feel that he is calm enough that he will not try to bash his face in, we'll come back out."

"Thank you," Bill managed to say just above a whisper as his friend guided him inside the house. He tried to control his emotions even as Ed opened the door leading to the basement, before the door was closed his shaking had become more violent. With a wail, he finally allowed the months of pain that he had resolutely bottled deep inside to burst out. He collapsed onto the ground, his hands covering his tear soaked face. Ed had turned away from him, Bill was grateful for that small act of compassion from his friend.

"It's a stupid question," Ed began, "but I take it that you're positive that Troy and Barbara..." He could not finish his question before Bill's slow nod answered. "Damn, I'm sorry bud. I honestly didn't know, if I had..."

"They have met a few times," Bill replied, "for the past weeks. I have the details of when their affair began if your sister in law wants to learn the details."

"I'm not sure what she wants to do yet," Ed answered, "but we are gonna have this out as soon as you are calm enough that you can face him. Without me having to hold you back, that is."

"I think I'm good," Bill meekly answered, "let's get this over with, I guess. It's not gonna get any easier with waiting." As they walked to the backyard, Troy visibly shifted in his seat. Bill ignored him as he turned to Tracy, still wrapped in her sister's arms. "I'm so sorry," he told her.

"You're have nothing to apologize for, Bill," Tracy replied in a voice completely devoid of emotion. Troy surely had expected some anger, he had expected for Tracy to have completely gone into a rage. Her total shutdown surprised him, but Bill fully expected that reaction. She was in shock.

"Tracy," he said in that calm voice that had been refined over years in practice and through countless sessions. "This is not your fault, you are not responsible for the shortcomings of your partner. What he did had absolutely nothing to do with you," Bill moved closer to the two girls and knelt down in order to meet Tracy's eyes. "It is OK to feel betrayed, to feel anger, even shame. But you have to allow yourself to feel," he gestured for Stacy to remove her arms from Tracy, "what is going through your mind?"

"Could you be mistaken, Bill?" Her tone of voice implored that he could be wrong about the man who she had given her heart to, she hoped against everything that he was wrong. "Please, tell me you are wrong about Troy, Bill."

"I've had a PI following her for the better part of this year," Bill began, "we limit our interactions to written reports except when she takes a new lover." Bill looked at Troy, silencing his feeble attempt at speaking, "I got his picture about four months ago."

"Oh, God," Tracy cried out, burying her face in Bill's chest. "Why would he do this? How?"

"I think those questions are better answered by Troy," Bill replied, he held on to this woman as he spoke, keeping the tone of his voice as calm and soothing as possible. No small task considering the circumstances. "Well Troy, care to fill in some of the gaps?"

"We met during a business conference," he began, "about six months ago. She approached me after the lunch, during mergers we sometimes need social workers to give us a feel for the morale of the company. Plus it can be a stressful time for employees that think they might lose their job during the merger." He looked around at the group before continuing, "we exchanged numbers, I did it for networking. Her reasons became clear a few days after."

"How so?" Bill allowed the words to escape before he realized what he had asked. Almost immediately he regretted asking his question. As Troy fished out his cell phone from his jacket, the feeling in his stomach intensified.

"She started sending me pictures," Troy replied as he turned on his phone, "innocent at first, but they quickly became sexual in nature. I'm sorry, Bill, she never mentioned she was married." He turned the phone so that Bill could see it, the sight would have made him lose his lunch had he not seen far worse pictures. Barbara sat in what clearly looked to be a motel bed, she was wearing a small teddy, her face cleared of makeup. "The next ones are far more... revealing. I didn't keep those, out of fear that..."

"That I would find them?" Tracy moved toward Troy, fists clenched so tight that her knuckles were becoming white. "You're fucking noble, aren't you? You fucking disgust me, you sorry excuse for a man."

"I think you should leave, Troy" Ed quietly said, "you've done more than enough damage as it is." No sooner had he finished speaking that Troy's phone began to ring, the caller clearly identified in the display screen.

"Go ahead, asshole," Tracy spat, "fucking answer the phone. We all know what the whore wants!"

"Give me the phone," Bill said, more a command than a request which Troy immediately followed. As Bill pressed the appropriate display to connect the call, he took a deep breath, then simply said: "hello?"

...

"I'm sorry," Barbara replied to the stranger at the other end of the line, "I must've dialed the wrong number."

"No," the voice said, a deep sadness in the tone of his voice, "I don't think you did, Barbara."

"How do you know my name?" She thought to herself that Troy had given his phone to one of his buddies. If she had been angry just a few minutes before, now she was beyond irate. "Who is this?"

"How do you not recognize the voice of your husband, you home wrecking bitch?!" This time the voice was of a female, unadulterated anger in her voice as she screamed into the phone. Barbara had not heard the words, or if she had, her brain simply refused to process their meaning. The only thought that crossed her mind was the instinct of self preservation, she immediately knew the female's identity. "Now you don't have anything to say to the wife of the man you've been screwing for the past four months?!" The woman continued to scream into the phone, "you've got some nerve."

"I don't know who you think I am, ma'am," Barbara said, she had to try to save herself from this situation. Deny everything, she told herself. She had almost forgotten the man's voice that had initially answered the phone. "You must have me confused with someone else."

"No, whore," the venom in the woman's words was not disguised, it came across the digital lines as fiercely as if she had said them right in her face. "I know exactly who I'm talking to, you're Barbara Cargill, and for the past four months you have been fucking my husband, Troy. Well, soon to be ex-husband."

Barbara swallowed hard, there was no point in denying it, but she could still just allow the woman to vent. Not admitting anything was just as good as denying everything. "Ma'am," Barbara replied, "I don't know what your husband has told you about me, but I assure you..."

"Cut the fucking act," the woman spat, "if you worried less about what MY husband says and instead worry more about what YOUR husband knows, maybe you would have been loyal enough to keep your fucking legs closed."

It was at that moment that the words finally registered in Barbara's mind. She reached far into her memory trying to piece together the identity of the man's voice. Her brain nagged at her, she knew the answer, but something was not allowing her to make the connection. The woman's words completed the puzzle for Barbara and she found her answer. "Bill?"

"You're going to need to get yourself a lawyer," the man's voice said. She now recognized it, this was her husband. Her husband had answered Troy's phone along with Troy's wife. Before she could say something, anything, the call was disconnected.

Barbara stared at the phone as fear began to take hold of her. Slowly, she managed to lower the cellphone from her ear and moved about her home. Her brain was still trying to process what had just happened: her husband knew. Bill knew! As she reached her dining room table, she gingerly pulled a chair out and collapsed onto it. She sat in the dark room for a long time, but surprisingly enough there were no tears. Her instinct was to try to reach Bill, she had to talk to him now more than ever. As she dialed his number she was surprised to learn that it had been disconnected. She tried using the house phone, with the same results. She remembered her husband's habit of changing his phone number every six months, he had not bothered to share his new numbers with her.

She held the house phone to her ear until the disconnect signal blared loudly, her shaky hands returned the phone to its charging cradle. She returned to her seat, the second time she had collapsed onto the chair brought more violent shakes. This time, the tears would come.

...

"I don't think you should go home tonight, Bill," Stacy said as she watched Troy drive away. Her sister was still crying in the backyard as Ed tried his best to comfort her. "You know she is going to be there."

"You might be right," Bill replied, "I'll give her tonight to get whatever belongings she will need out of my house. But I will not be run out of it."

"I think tonight calls for alcohol," Ed said, "very hard and strong alcohol."

"I'll go to the store," Stacy said, "can you keep an eye out on these two by yourself?"

"We're fine," Bill said dismissively, "I'll talk to Tracy, try to help her make sense of this situation. I've known for a long time, I've had ample time to digest it all, in my own way."

"You are gonna need to be tested, Bill," Ed said, "same with Tracy."

"I had myself tested after I learned of her affairs," Bill reassured his friend, "I haven't touched Barbara since then. I do agree that Tracy should get tested as well, but we can handle that tomorrow. For tonight, she and I will need to put this night behind a thick layer of blurred lines."

Tracy and Bill spoke for hours, the more they talked the better she felt. Of course, the social lubricant had helped a great deal to put their pain away at least for the night. As Ed and Stacy bid them two goodnight and reminded them of the guest rooms that had been prepared for them, Bill and Tracy's conversation had turned friendlier. Pain and misery have a funny way of bringing people together it seems.

The following morning found Bill and Tracy wrapped in each other's arms still in the backyard. At some point in the night, the chill of the season had forced them to find blankets which they used to create a protective cocoon as they had continued talking well after Ed and Stacy had gone to bed. Stacy's gentle shake brought the two back to the world of the living, their moans showed that the alcohol had done it's job and had done it well.

"Good morning, you two," Stacy laughed as the two looked at each other and realized the compromising position they found themselves in. Before they could begin to explain anything, Ed's laughter interrupted.

"Nothing happened besides two hurt people giving one another emotional comfort in a difficult time," Ed said, "hell, you two are still fully clothed under that blanket. Now get your asses up, you both have some very hard decisions to make today."

As each of them stumbled into the house, each recoiled in pain at the slightest noise or light, they remembered the plans they had made the previous night. Both Bill and Tracy had decided to pursue divorces from their respective spouses, Tracy would use the evidence that Bill's PI had gathered. She also had to make a very uncomfortable visit with her doctor.

Bill had less concerns, he had already separated the bank accounts, blocked Barbara's access to the business accounts, and had cancelled all shared business and personal credit cards. In fact, he had done that months previous, she had yet to notice. He had allowed her to keep the entire sum in her personal banking account, along with the credit card bills attached to them. After a much welcomed breakfast and one last hug from his friends, Bill steeled himself for what would come next. Despite Barbara's clear contempt for their marriage, he had the feeling that their marriage would end in bitter notes.

...

Barbara woke up in the dining room chair, her eyes almost completely shut from the dried tears. As her foggy memory cleared, she remembered the previous night's events. In a panic, she rushed to the master bedroom to find it empty. She again realized how often this bedroom had been empty over the past months but had not noticed before. She tried to remember the last time she had shared the same bed with her husband. Bill! The thought of him immediately forced her to run into the closet. All his clothes were still there, even his business suits. In his nightstand he found his usual nighttime medications, along with several envelops and notes he had written down as reminders for himself. What she found under those papers froze her to her core: a black, titanium band she had placed on his finger almost 16 years before.

She looked at her own rings, how often had she removed them over the same amount of years? In a trance, she willed herself to get in the shower and clean herself up as best she could. Unlike her many previous showers, the filth she was trying to remove was not only in her vagina in the form of semen, but a more insidious layer of filth that spread throughout her body. Once, she even emptied the contents of her stomach onto the shower and watched as it too ran down the drain. That was an apt imagery of her life at that moment.

As she prepared her morning coffee, the sound of her husband's engine shook her from her stupor. Drawing a deep breath, she tried to prepare herself for whatever onslaught he would feel she deserved for her blatant betrayal. She told herself that she would endure whatever humiliation, whatever punishment this man delivered onto her. He walked into the house, murmuring something just under his breath.

"Why are you here?" There was no malice in his voice, no venom, nothing more than genuine confusion. She looked at him for the first time in months, he had lost weight. Not in an unhealthy way, his gut was gone to be replaced with staunch muscles. His skin had a slight bronze tan, one gathered from real sunlight and not from a lamp or a bottle. Even in his casual wear, she noticed how incredibly handsome this man was, and not for the last time did she curse herself for her own stupidity. She had risked her marriage over meaningless liaisons with boys.

"Bill, please," she said, "we have to talk."

"No, we don't," Bill said with contempt and his words. "You've had more than a year to talk to me." He slowly began to make his way to his bedroom, "I will try to be as fair as possible, Barbara. You will be served today with the divorce papers, a process server will be by this afternoon. Along with the petition for the divorce, there will be two other documents that you need to look at: the first will be your official notice of termination of employment. You are fired, Barbara. The second set of papers are a restraining order that will prevent you from coming into the house, the business, or anywhere near me. Please, don't fight the divorce."

"Bill..." Barbara said, her broken voice just above a whisper. He stopped for a second waiting for her to continue, when she did not he continued making his way to the bedroom. He tried to ignore her wails by hiding under the shower head, allowing the water to cleanse his body and clear his mind. She had collapsed on the floor; the tears had stopped only to be replaced by a vacant look.

"Get yourself an attorney," he said on his way out of the house, as he opened the door he remembered something. "It looks like someone broke into your car last night; your door is wide open. Make sure nothing important is missing, or call the police."

Barbara sat alone for far longer than she had expected, in her mind Bill had just closed the door on his way out when the doorbell shook her from her dream world. Just like Bill had told her, the process server handed her three separate files, she had to sign for each of them individually. The divorce was discreet, efficient, and fairer than she could have expected. There was also a hand written letter, little more than a warning from Bill to her. It said in no certain terms that if she contested this divorce the terms would drastically change.

Slowly, she gathered whatever clothing she would be taking with her, and with one last look into what used to be a loving home, she closed the door. Her first call would be to find a hotel where she could stay in the meantime, as soon as she found accommodations; she tried to find an attorney. She was moving in auto-pilot, trying her best to maintain what little of her mind remained by keeping busy.

...

"I never thought you to be so damn cunning," John Alberts, the better part of Alberts and Associates and a friend for as long as Bill could remember, cheerfully said on the phone. "Didn't think you had it in you, boy." His southern drawl was no more than an act, Bill knew that having grown up with this man. It was a tool, a weapon that he used with expertise.