Short Story Sunday – He Cheated, Now What? PT II

#S H O R T  S T O R Y  S U N D A Y

He Cheated, Now What?

I want to leave you all with an intrigued mind to come back next week to see how the story continues.

The most important thing I ask of you all is to share these stories, and leave comments so we can have an open dialogue. I love to hear your frustrations and critique. All of those things help me to achieve new goals.

Stay a little while– Expect more.

– C I N Q U A N T A

hecheatednowwhat

| H E  C H E A T E D  N O W  W H A T ? |

Tomorrow wasn’t different it was worst. Yesterday I received the divorce text from Karl. I called, and I texted his phone all day. I never got a response. Soon it would go straight to his voicemail. It was almost noon, and I couldn’t peel myself from the bed. I was confused. How could so many years of marriage be over? I didn’t see it coming or did I? I sat up in bed trying to think about what went wrong. Did I ignore the signs? Was he cheating all along? How could I be so naive to think that he would never stray away in our marriage? My mom told me that every man cheats. I always told her not mines. I knew Karl like the back of my hand. I trusted him or at least I thought I could trust him.

My head started to turn as I thought about how many times did he not return my calls. I thought about when he came home late and didn’t hold me or kiss me Goodnight.

That night Karl, in fact, didn’t come back. I didn’t want to call or tell anyone about what was going on in case… maybe just maybe I was over reacting. He just needed time to cool off and then he’d be back home tomorrow. Things would go back to normal, and we would work through this roadblock. Having to sleep alone that night was such an empty feeling. I was no good all day for the boys. All the plans I had made didn’t happen. I tried to muster up the strength to cook dinner, but I ended up just ordering pizza. I knew the boys could tell that something was wrong, but they let me be.

1 Week Later

I tried to talk to Karl, but I wasn’t getting through to him. He was staying out late, and not coming home at all. The nights we did sleep in the same bed together, it was cold. I felt like my heart was falling from my body. I was laying with a man who hadn’t spoken more than 50 words to me in the past week. I guess I felt better that he would at least answer some of my text messages, but he kept it short. He was so loving towards the kids and cold as ice when it came to me. You would have thought I did something horrible to him the way he was ignoring me.

Early March

I couldn’t take it anymore I had to find out something. I had to do some digging of my own. While he was out, I was searching through his pants pockets, and looking through his work clothes. I tried logging into his iPad to see what I could find. When he was in the shower, I was looking for his cell phone. I couldn’t find it. It was always close to him he was always on it when I would arrive home, and then he would hang up.

One night he left. I logged into our phone bill, and I looked for things that seemed out of place. I looked for numbers that were repeated on the bill, and numbers that were called at odd hours. I then looked at the duration of the calls. He was on the phone with someone a lot for 45 minutes at a time and calling this person numerous times a day. I started a list of numbers in the notes of my cell phone. I was somewhat scared about calling the numbers, and a female would pick up.

I sat on this information for a few days. I started doing some ignoring of my own. Karl was texting me about this divorce and that he had talked to a few lawyers. I stopped replying to the text messages. I moved into our guest room. Since he was barely home. I took all of my stuff out of our master closet. I was just ready to face whatever demon this was. My marriage was going through it. When we did get a chance to talk it was arguing. I’m glad most of that took place while the kids were at school.

One day, I decided to call the number. I know I’m too old to be calling people to find out who they are. I dialed the number and held my breath.

A female voice said Hello on the other end. I didn’t speak at first. I was scared. I hung up! I tried to get some strength to dial the number again. She said, “Who is this?” I took my phone off mute. “Who is this? Are you sleeping with my husband?” She sounded irritated and said “You called my phone. Now who is this?” I hung up. I can’t believe I was trying to confront someone over the phone.

I broke down at that moment. This was an argument waiting to happen.

He came home that afternoon for lunch, and I confronted him. “What chick are you on the phone with for 40 minutes at a time. Is this why you want a divorce?” He looked at me and told me to stop calling her. I stopped in my tracks. Was he defending this mystery, woman? He said, “I pay for this bill, and I call whoever the hell I want too.” At that moment tears ran down my eyes. I found myself on the floor at his feet. Begging a man who apparently no longer loved me or cared for me.

He moved me to the side grabbed his things and walked out of the door. I was there laying on the floor in a puddle of my tears thinking about how to move on, and how to pick up the broken pieces.

Later that night

I decided that I would pray. I prayed about it, and I decided to be my source of happiness. If he wanted to play dirty, I would play dirtier. I remembered I could track his phone location. I would start to show up where he was. I was going to make his new relationship hard for him. He had moved on, and we haven’t even signed any papers yet. In the process, I would have to find some way to heal. I had my kids to think about. They deserve a happy mom. So I would put all my energy in them and then I would play his game.

It was a typical Friday night, and Karl had come home washed off got dress and left. I made sure I continued to tend to the house, cook, and do all of my wifely duties. It was around 11 p.m., and I had put the kids down for bed. I logged in and tracked his phone.

B-I-N-G-O

Location: The Hilton

Downtown St. Louis

I didn’t think twice. I check to make sure the boys were knocked out. I grabbed my boots and my hoody. I was out the door.

L E A V E  C O M M E N T S !

I hope you enjoyed #shortstorysunday

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READ PART I HERE.

Read Part III HERE.

Read Part The Finale HERE.

 |Behind The Pen|

You can read A PLACE CALLED TOWN – A published Blog Story inspired by my hometown Here.

-Stay a little while- expect more.

-Cinquanta

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