The Gambler

While Kate had been home for her father's funeral I'd met a guy, Andrew, at the GA meeting. He'd been a mad gambling fiend, betting on the horses. He'd stolen money from his employer so as part of the plea deal to keep him out of jail he had to attend counseling. Andrew was a funny guy and afterwards we had a drink. He showed me a computer program he'd used to pick the horses to bet on and now it was going to be my savior.

I saw straight away the genius of this software. It hadn't worked on horse racing because there were too many variables. On top of that you have no way of knowing whether the jockey is even trying to win. Betting on football was much more reliable and all the stats were publicly available. I knew with a few tweaks this could be not only my savior but my ticket to getting my "balls" back from Kate.

I'd worked on it for the last couple of months. Given it a trial run with phantom bets over the last two weeks and made a few minor adjustments. Last night I'd made my first small bet and it won. Now it was time to up the stakes so my hard work to could be rewarded. A taxi swung into the driveway momentarily distracting me. The driver got out and struggled to get Kate's bag into the boot. She strutted over to me, squatted demurely and kissed my cheek.

"Have a good trip," I said as she straightened.

"Bye," Kate replied before straightening and walking back to the cab.

Once the taxi had turned the corner at the end of our street on the way to the airport I slammed the lid back on the paint and sprinted through the house to the shed in the backyard. My heart was pounding as I waited for the laptop to boot up so I could check my progress. I opened up my betting program with my spirits high.

"Fuck!" My second bet was a bust.

I opened my browser and checked the game stats. The problem was obvious. The star playmaker was a late withdrawal with a stomach upset. It was just bad luck. If I had been able to check in more regularly I would have picked that up and changed the bet. No systems one hundred percent foolproof. As long as I was accurate seven out of ten games I'd make a killing.

My only problem was I used all the money I'd been able to hide from my wife over the last month on this bet. I planned to be in credit for the next two games being played today. I had a backup plan but I was hoping not to have to use it. I got my wallet and pulled out a slip of paper I had hidden behind my drivers license. It had a jumble of numbers on it. My bosses' work credit card details. I hesitated momentarily before I entered them onto the pay section of the website. It would only be a short term loan. I'd pay it straight back when my next bet payed out. I was going to be rich so I wouldn't need a job anyway...

Kate.

As the taxi pulled away I couldn't bring myself to look back. The lump in my throat just seemed to get bigger as I fought back the tears. As we turned the first corner I couldn't hold it in any longer and a loud sob burst out of my mouth as the tears flowed down my cheeks. The driver looked in his mirror and slowed down pulling over to the side of the road.

"Are you okay love?" He asked as he swiveled in his seat and passed me a tissue.

"Yes... Yes..." I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. "Just keep going."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I sniffed. "I can't go back."

He pulled a handful of tissues out of the box in his console and passed them back to me. I took them gratefully before he resumed driving me to the airport. There was no going back, not now. Jeremy was gambling again I was sure of it.

The last couple of months he'd been very secretive about something. He'd disappear for an hour, sneak off to the office or the bedroom. When I went looking for him he'd appear smiling saying he was having a rest or he'd been to the toilet. His mood changed. When we first went west he was morose and uncommunicative. He started smiling a lot more. Not the 'oh my god I'm so happy' smile but the 'I'm doing something you don't like and getting away with it' smug grin.

I suppose it didn't help that I'd kept him on a tight leash and took control of our finances as well. I explained that after he'd let me down a third time he would have to earn my trust all over again. It was either that or divorce so he'd opted for my terms.

Then last week I got really suspicious. He'd just performed another one of his disappearing acts. This time out to the back shed that was screened from the house by a veritable jungle of shrubs. I followed him but I stayed hidden in the last line of dense foliage. Jeremy was inside for sometime and I was about to break cover to get closer when I heard a loud exclamation.

"Yes! You fucking beauty!"

I stayed where I was. There was nothing further for a minute or so then Jeremy emerged from the shed and closed the door. He looked about before dancing a little jig. It was his victory dance, I'd seen it before many times. Retreating a few paces up the path I called out to him as if I was trying to find out where he was.

"Jeremy?"

"Yes dear?" Came his reply and he met me in the path in the 'jungle.'

"What have you been doing?" I asked innocently.

"Just looking for that miniature screwdriver. You know the one I use to take the back off the big clock in the kitchen? I thought I'd change the battery." He lied.

"It's in the second drawer under the cutlery isn't it?"

"You know I think your right." Jeremy flashed me his smug grin before kissing my cheek and walking up to the house. "Thanks honey."

The next day when he'd left for work I went out to the shed. A rudimentary search turned up a battered old laptop and a couple of sports magazines. I fired up the laptop but it was password protected. It didn't matter what was on it really. Just having a laptop broke my rules. I wouldn't even let him have a smartphone. That was when I decided I wasn't going to come back from my next trip

Jeremy was on an incredible high for a week. He was almost bouncing off the walls such was his repressed excitement. Suddenly last night he was quiet again. He seemed distracted and irritable until he disappeared again. I was packing when he came back into the bedroom with the wide smile back on his face.

I'd seen it all before. The intense highs after a win, at first I'd shared in them. The trouble was it was never enough. Instead of taking the money and running Jeremy only saw it as an opportunity to win more. So inevitably he would jump back in again. There would be the tension of the wait until whatever he was betting on concluded followed by another high or low but always another bet.

The first time he took our savings. The second time he took my parent's money. The last time he'd taken my self respect. I kept coming back like a beaten wife checking out of hospital to go back home to her abuser. I couldn't go through it again.