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Don Prescott sat at his desk at home staring pensively out of the window. It was very early on a Thursday morning, it was still dark out, and he was physically and emotionally drained after his return flight home. He again attempted to force his mind back to the events of the previous evening. He again attempted to make some sense of what he had witnessed.
He knew that he had decisions to make. After watching his wife have sex with a total stranger (at least to him) at that conference, he knew that he had two options open to him. One: he could confront her when she returned on Saturday and tell her that he knew of her cheating, engage in the emotional turmoil that would elicit and attempt to resolve the causes that led her to her infidelity. Or, two: he could pack and leave. He could pack up and leave now. He had to decide what HE wanted to do
He smiled bitterly to himself: there was no doubt as to what he was going to do. The scenes of Marge's adultery were burned into his mind and they would probably never be fully erased. Was this the first time she had cheated? He doubted it; he strongly suspected that she had cheated on numerous occasions, but that really was now irrelevant. She cheated last night and would, in all probability, cheat again tonight and, perhaps, even tomorrow night. Whether it's once or a dozen times is really not all that critical. Adultery is adultery, whether it happens once or a hundred times.
His mind traveled back in time, over the past few years. He remembered the small slights, the off-hand putdowns, her preoccupation with her jock friends at those parties. He also remembered her expression when he attempted to cut in while she was dancing with her "friends." By word and deed she had attempted to undermine his sense of himself as a man, to emasculate him. No more, those days have ended.
The trauma of witnessing his wife's betrayal caused something to change in Don. He had always been a retiring type of guy, a little shy and withdrawn. It wasn't a lack of confidence, it was just that he didn't have an A type personality. It was always easier to go along. He now realized that "going along" was yesterdays Don Prescott. He knew that he had changed inside, a deep and wrenching change.
He was angry, bitter and vindictive. These were emotions that he would nurture and expand. He would no longer allow anyone to belittle him, to patronize him, to minimize who he was. He should thank Marge, her actions last night precipitated this change. He would now take charge of his life. No more Mr. Nice Guy.
He had plans to make. He would go to the bank and withdraw half of their savings . He also had to contact their broker and cash in half of their mutual funds. They didn't have a huge amount of money put aside, but he would take what he considered his. He also had to look for a place, a new home. He couldn't stay in this house with her, he knew that he would not be able to do that.
He saw that it was now light outside. The sun had risen as he had sat and contemplated his future and the tentative plans that were percolating in his mind.
He picked up the phone and punched in a number. The call was answered on the second ring
"Wilderness Trail, can I help you." a female voice answered.
"Yes, Mr. Carl Fellows, please."
His call was transferred, "Fellows here."
"Hi Carl, this is Don Prescott, I......"
"Donny, hey, it's good hearing from you. What's up?" a booming voice inquired.
"Carl, remember that position you tried to talk me into accepting awhile ago? In sales?"
"Of course I do, Don. I still think that you were nuts not to have at least considered it. You would easily double what you're making now. Wait, are you now considering it? Tell me you are," pleaded Carl.
"Damn, Carl. Why are you having such a problem filling that position? What's the catch," asked Don?
"Donny, no catch. There aren't that many people around who know the wilderness, that are familiar with our products for hiking, climbing, canoeing, etc. At least not nearly as capable as you are."
"Carl, I told you the last time we talked that my problem was that I would have to relocate to your Maine office and that kind of upheaval would not be good for me or my family. Marge, wouldn't even consider it at the time we talked. Well, things have changed. Let me get some things settled here and then I'll fly up and we can talk again. Is that ok?"
"You bet, Donny. Look, buddy. You know me. We've been friends since college. This is really a great opportunity and you would be working in a field that you love., and by the way, you don't have to fly up here. I'm flying down tomorrow to the branch office in your area for a couple of weeks. We can meet whenever you say. Also, for the first six months or so you would train down there. You wouldn't have to move until then. Please try to talk Marge into this, Don."
"Yeah," Don replied. "I don't think that'll be a problem now, Carl. I'll get back to you."
"Time to begin the first day of the rest of my life," he thought to himself, as he rose and made his way to shower and dress. There were things that he had to do today, not the least of which was to contact a good divorce lawyer.
"My wife has cheated on me and I know exactly what to do" he said softly as he mounted the stairs.
The hours that Don spent in his preparations seemed to calm him, at least outwardly. He no longer felt overwhelmed by the sorrow, the sadness that had pervaded his soul. If there were vestiges of those emotions, they were buried under a layer of icy cold anger and bitterness.
Marge's telephone calls to him on Thursday and Friday evenings were full of her excitement and enthusiasm . She kept telling Don how much she was enjoying the conference and how much she was learning. Don was good, he was very good. He responded as he was supposed to, with happiness that she was having such a good time.
"I bet she's enjoying herself and I also bet that she's learning a lot more than she's telling," he thought to himself. "Well, it won't be long before she is going to realize that her life will be different. It could be that she will welcome my absence. That way she can fuck anyone she wants to without any worry about a husband getting in her way."
His plans took up the two days, but he had managed to get done what he had intended. He also managed to move much of his stuff to the Extended Stay Inn where he would reside until he could find more suitable accommodations. While these plans occupied his time, he had given very little thought to the conversation he would have with Marge after he picked her up at the airport on Saturday.
He would let that play out as it would. It really didn't make too much difference what her explanation would be, if she would even offer one. This was an act of unfaithfulness in which she actively participated. There was no reluctance, just the opposite, she seemed to relish fucking this guy. In fact, he could not even remember a time when she acted as wanton and aroused with him.
Saturday came soon enough and he waited patiently for Marge to emerge through the doors of the airport. She clasped him closely and kissed him.
"Oh Donny, I really missed you. It's so good to be home," exclaimed Marge.
"Missed you too, Marge. Let me get your bags into the car and we'll be on our way," replied Don neutrally.
Marge seemed a bit startled by Don's lack of enthusiasm at her arrival home. She tried to make conversation during the drive but was discouraged by her husband's lack of response. They both lapsed into an uneasy silence.
Arriving home, Don carried her bags into the living room and then turning to Marge, asked her to sit down. His serious mien frightened her. She began to wonder what, if anything, he knew or suspected.
"Marge, once you look around the house, you will notice that much of my clothes are gone. I've moved out and I've already filed for divorce," Don began calmly.
Marge sat very still, pale and resigned. He knew, she realized that. She would not deny. Her shoulders sagged as she prepared herself.
"It's very simple, Marge. You were unfaithful, you cheated, you've broken your marriage vows and you have to realize that there are consequences for that betrayal. I refuse to be a cuckold. I am not the kind of man, despite what you think, that can accept what you've done. I saw you, Marge. I saw you go with that asshole into the bedroom at that hospitality suite. I saw you suck and fuck his brains out. Did you really think that I would sit back and accept that kind of betrayal? You are not the woman I married, Marge. I never really noticed that that woman disappeared years ago." Don realized that his voice was getting louder. He caught his breath and sat back, getting his emotions back under control before he continued.
Marge Prescott sat, stunned and shocked , as Don subjected her to his anger, his bitterness. Her mind reeled at the realization that he had actually witnessed her adultery. She felt herself become nauseous, physically ill. "My God," she thought to herself, not for the first time. "What have I done, what have I become?"
"How many times, Marge? How many affairs have you had? How many guys have you fucked? Damn, I should have realized, I should have been more aware. The snide remarks, the little signs of contempt, the put-downs. They all showed how your love had changed to indifference, to disdain," Don continued now more calmly, but with a bite to his accusations.
"We both know, Marge. We both know what kind of man you really want, don't we? You want a jock, you want a Frank Morello type. Well, Marge, now you have the opportunity to get what you want. You won't have me around to get in your way," he concluded bitterly.
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Marge sat, ashen faced and trembling. "Don," she gasped. "Please, wait. Don't go. Let me say something." Her eyes were bright with unshed tears. She vowed she would not break down into a sniveling mess.
"Don, you're partly right. What I did, what you saw, at the conference I cannot deny and will regret the rest of my life. It was only that one time and I have been agonizing over that since it happened. I can't explain it right now and I know that you deserve an explanation. As to other affairs, Don, I swear, on all that I hold dear, that I had never before been unfaithful to you. Never. Please Don, please give me another chance. The children would be devastated if you left."
Don blanched. He sat very still. "Shit," he thought. "I had not taken the kids into consideration. If I divorce her now, she'll get custody, I know how it works. I have to come up with a plan. I will not lose my children. I need time."
Don rose and gazed upon his wife coldly. "I can't continue this conversation right now, I'm too upset. I have to get out of here. I'll give you a call and we'll arrange a time to continue. I'll call you," he muttered as he quickly walked out of the door.
Marge sat still, her head in her hands, as Don left. The tears then started to fall and she sobbed as she felt her heart break. She knew that in many ways Don was right. She recognized that over the past few years she had put her career ahead of him and relegated him to a secondary role in her life. She had gotten caught up in the competitive sports environment and excitement of her job. She also realized that she did indeed pay too much attention to her male colleagues, the other coaches.
But she had never cheated before. She may have flirted, but it was all innocent, innocent until that damn conference. She allowed herself to be seduced that evening. She fell under the influence of that damn group she had attached herself to. Who the hell knew that they used the conference each year to screw away from home. She couldn't deny, even to herself, that it was exciting, arousing, perhaps because it was so wrong, so forbidden. The price for that excitement was coming due now. The price of one night of illicit passion could be her marriage.
She knew, without any doubt, that she loved Don with every fibre of her being. That emotion may have moved to the back of her mind over the past years, but the cost of forgetting that now faced her.
"I'll do whatever I have to to win him back. I've been a terrible partner and I now have to change that and become the wife that he deserves," she thought to herself. "I had forgotten the qualities he possessed that drew me to him originally. I just pray that he'll give me the chance."
Don thought as he drove. "I'll have to move back, I have to make Marge believe that there is hope. I know her, I know what kind of woman she has become. She says she wants another chance," he muttered to himself. "I'll give her another chance, another chance to cuckold me. Once I get the evidence I need, I can gain custody of the kids One way or another, I will get my kids."
Monday saw Don sitting across a desk from Carl Fellows. "Don, here's the deal. Next week, when you start, you'll be spending a month getting a handle on the paperwork involved in sales, from the original order to the final shipment. Then you'll accompany either Joe Burke or Carol Logan in the field. I want you to become totally familiar with our product line and how to handle our customer base. You will get quite a bit of information from these two. You'll also get ideas about how to acquire new customers, although most leads will come from the office."
Carl wrote something on a slip of paper and handed it to Don. "Don, here's your starting salary, but that doesn't include commissions which will be due you on sales that you make. I've got to tell you that the commissions could very well be more than your base salary."
Carl leaned back with a grin at the shocked expression on his friends face.
"Damn, Carl. The salary alone is more than I'm now making," exclaimed Don.
"I've tried to tell you, buddy," Carl reminded him. "You're going to do very well here. Welcome aboard."
The next day saw Don again seated across from his wife in their living room. "Marge," Don began. "I given this a lot of thought and have decided that we should try to save our marriage, if for no other reason then the well being of our children."
Don looked up and saw the expression of relief on his wife's face and quickly brought her down to earth. "Don't think that it's going to be easy. I don't trust you and I don't know if I ever will. We will try to put this behind us. We will try, but no guarantees. It may be an exercise in futility, but we'll see."
Don stared at her with interest. "I also want you to know that I've quit my job and will be starting work at Wilderness Trail. I start training in a week. After six months, we're going to be moving to Maine. I know that you wouldn't consider it before, now you have to ask yourself if your career is worth your marriage."
He saw the look of consternation and worry that crossed Marge's face. "You will have to give that some thought, don't even bother commenting now."
"I wonder how long it will take before she fucks one of her boyfriends, or maybe it'll be someone new," he thought to himself. "I know now what she's become. This time I'll get proof."
"I'll move my things back this afternoon." he told her as he again walked out.
Marge sat stoically and thought, "If I have to, I will. I will put up no objections to the move. The hell with my career, my marriage comes first. I won't forget that again," she vowed to herself.
So now began a period of watchful waiting. Things settled down a bit at home, but both of them felt the tension and Marge was very aware that her husband was cool and aloof. They shared a bed, but there was no intimacy. Every attempt that she made was rebuffed and she withdrew, hurt and tearful. She eventually learned not to approach him He still felt the pain and she wondered if he would ever truly forgive her.
Marge was correct, Don was way beyond forgiveness. He wanted her gone and he wanted his children. He had to find a way to catch what he was sure would be her further adultery. He was no detective, he had no particular technical skills and he knew that he couldn't keep close tabs on what Marge was doing when he was gone.
Two months had passed since Don had moved back home. He had to admit that Marge was doing all that she could to reestablish a close and loving relationship, but were her actions real or a ruse to lull him into complacency? He would not be fooled and he knew that he had to find a way to spy, yes, it's a dirty word but applicable, on Marge.
"Don, what's up with you?" queried Joe Burke. They had become close during the past couple of months. "I haven't known you for long, Don, but something is obviously eating at you. I'm a good listener and if it's home problems, I've been through that too."
Don looked at Joe, his thoughts racing. Could he actually confide in him? He acknowledged that in the few weeks that they had worked together they had formed a bond, a certain closeness. Joe was about 60 and had been married for a long time with kids who were grown and on their own.
Don made up his mind and unloaded. He told Joe of how his marriage had fallen apart, Marge's attitude toward him over the past few years and how he had witnessed her adultery.
"She's going to do it again, Joe. I know that. She going to continue being unfaithful. I've got to come up with a way to catch her at it, but I can't think of any," lamented Don.
"Don, are you sure you aren't making a big mistake," Joe remarked after a short pause. " You've just told me that your wife is remorseful, that she has been making every effort to reconcile. Maybe, just maybe, there is light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe she really wants this marriage to work. It could be that there is nothing to discover because she intends to be true to you."
Don shook his head, "No, Joe. I am certain that it's just a matter of time. She's laying low now, but as soon as she thinks my guard is down, she'll start again. I just know it. Now I have to find a way to catch her."
Joe looked closely at Don and sighed. "Don, here's a number, call this guy. He's a computer geek, he'll set up everything you need. I suspect tho, that what you'll find may just confirm that she really wants her marriage."
Don did call the number Joe had given him and agreed to meet with a Ted Benboe in a coffee shop not far from the office the next day.
"Listen Ted, here's the deal," Don begain. "Here's the reason......."
"Buddy," Ted Benboe interrupted. "I don't want any reasons. Just let me into your place and I'll place the cameras and other equipment. They'll be motion activated and will record to your hard drive. I'll take me about 2 to 4 hours." He reached and wrote a figure on a napkin. "This is what'll cost you. Take it or leave it."
Everything was done by the end of the week. There was now a surveillance device in the living room, the guest room and the master bedroom. Don felt satisfied; now all he had to do was wait.
Weeks went by and Don was feeling frustrated. Nothing was happening. The devices turned up nothing. He began to suspect that perhaps Marge was cheating away from the house. He found himself thinking up different scenarios, different situations.
"That's it, that must be it," he mused. "She's meeting someone someplace else. How do I find out? Hmmm, when is this happening? She could be using hotel rooms."
Don stopped, suddenly appalled. "I'm losing it. There is no indication that Marge has been anything but faithful since she returned from that conference. Maybe she does want to make this marriage work after all. Maybe I'm just being paranoid," he thought. "I've got to quell my craziness, I've got to let reason rule."
But, deep down, in the recesses of his psyche, he just didn't trust his wife. The years of belittlement and indifference and then witnessing her blatant adultery did not allow him to use reason. He knew that she would again stray, and this time he would catch her.
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