Adultery

Adultery

“Let me feel your touch again, look into your eyes, just fuel my addiction, before I have to die.”
~G. Richardson, Addiction

I felt the car go over the grooving on the side of the road and I quickly corrected before I went off. I rubbed my eyes again and tried to focus on the road. “God, I need some coffee,” I whispered to myself as a Seven-Eleven came into view. I quickly turned off and pulled up in the front.
There were no other cars parked in front of the Seven-Eleven and there was only the clerk inside. He was sitting behind the counter watching the late night news reports and drinking a coke. He looked up when I entered and gave me a forced smile. “Sir,” he said as he nodded his head. And then he turned his attention back to the television.
I walked over to the coffee machine against the wall and took a Styrofoam cup from the dispenser in the counter. I filled it to the brim with coffee, and then I took four sugar packets and poured them into the cup and stirred them in with a coffee straw. I took it up to the counter and set it down.
As the cashier rung it up, I took out my wallet and fished in it for some money. I paid for the coffee and had just turned to put my wallet back in my pocket when I saw the ring imprint which my condom had left in the leather of the wallet, and on the inside I saw the imprint of my wedding ring. As I looked at the two imprints, images and sounds flooded into my head. I felt a wave of guilt come over me, but I pushed it off and headed for the door.
Once in the car I sat back and began to breathe heavily. Images began flashing in my head again. Images of my wife. I saw her sitting in the car next to me, kissing me. I saw her lying in the bath tub, smiling up at me. I felt tears running down my cheeks as I remembered seeing her lying in that hospital bed.
I shook my head trying to clear the images from my mind. She was fine now, she was alive. She was waiting for me; she was waiting for me to come home. And I was sitting in my car, with my ring in my wallet and a packet of condoms in the glove box.
I took a gulp of the coffee and turned on the car. I put it in gear and pulled out of the parking lot. I turned out onto the highway and made my way home. I drank more coffee and pushed my thoughts to the back of my mind. I turned on the CD player and sat back. As I drove the words of the song playing drifted into my head,

‘The credit card receipts, the dirty sheets
The souvenirs of men who cheat
It all makes sense - with each offense
You wanted to believe him
He could get away with murder one,
And you would clean the smoking gun
With every crime, you bought each line,
But not this time, you'll make him
Eat his words cause…’

I turned it off and took another drink of coffee. As I drove on my mind wandered back, back to when this had all begun. I thought of Bridget, beautiful Bridget. She was a stunning woman; she had a body to die for, and the most beautiful straight brown hair. She had deep green eyes, and every time I looked into them I was overcome by passion. It had not been difficult to start things with Bridget.
It had started when Abbey had the accident. She was in physical therapy several times a week, and Bridget’s apartment was near by the doctor’s office. She had invited me over, she had comforted me. And it had not taken long for friendly comfort to turn to more. The first time we had done it in the kitchen, right underneath the table.
Once it was over I had left as soon as I could, and I had cried from guilt. However, the next week I returned to her apartment. That time I did not cry, I could not even remember feeling guilt. Bridget’s skin was so smooth, her lips so soft. She had become an addiction, like a cigarette, I was hooked from the first puff. I had returned week after week. Now, eight months later I was still doing it, I was still seeing her, sleeping with her.
I had come to her apartment that night all prepared. We had made not pretenses, we did not sit and talk, and we drank no wine. I had come in, and we had gone to her bedroom. We had not made love, there was no love involved only lust and pleasure. There is no proper word for it; we had sex. It is what we were there for. I had no other reason; it was an addiction, an addiction which needed to be fueled.
And now I was crying, just as I had the first time. The tears were running down my cheeks, I did nothing to stop them. The guilt was swelling up inside my chest; I knew I must let it out. I was a horrible person. “Fucking bastard,” I hissed at myself as I put my foot to the accelerator.
There were headlights ahead, directly ahead. I heard the horn to late; I swerved sharply to the right just as the other car went into the ditch to avoid a collision. Just as soon as I started breathing again I lost control of the car. It spun around, and kept going until it hit the guard rail. I heard the crunching of metal and the breaking of glass.
I sat and breathed for several seconds giving myself time to get my bearings. The rear passenger side window was out, and the entire passenger side was dented in. Other than that there was nothing wrong. I jumped, my stomach sticking in my throat as someone knocked on my window. I looked up; it was the driver of the other car.
I slowly climbed out of the car, “I’m terribly sorry, are you injured? Is anyone else injured?” I asked as I looked around at his car.
“No, I’m fine. I just went into the ditch. Are you alright?”
“Yes, fine. Do we need to exchange any information? Call the police? Or is everything alright?” I asked thinking of Abbey, hoping that I could get home as soon as I could.
“So long as I know that you’re going to be safe. Do you need me to give you a ride home? I don’t think you should be driving,” he said concernedly.
“No, I’ll be fine, it’s just a few more miles. Just in the city. Don’t worry.”
“Okay, be careful,” and with that the man turned and walked off. As I watched him go I thought that he must be a very stupid man. No one who was thinking clearly would have just walked off and let me get back into my car and continue driving. Unless he himself was distracted, perhaps he was returning home from his own rendezvous, and perhaps he was just as guilty as I. However, if he was returning home from meeting with another woman, if he too had a condom imprint in his wallet, then he would surely not be returning to tell his wife.

I climbed back into my car and slowly pulled it away from the guard rail. I heard the scraping of metal against metal, and then the car came free. I slowly accelerated and drove off towards home. I was driving towards Abbey, towards pain.
I pulled up outside our apartment building and climbed out locking the door behind me. I decided to take the stairs this time rather than ride the elevator, so that I would have time to think. I still loved her, I had never stopped loving Abbey, but she did not do what Bridget did, she could not make love the way Bridget did. Bridget was my addiction, and Abbey was my love, I could not have one without the other, but I could not live without either one.
I reached the eighth floor landing, and turned right down the hall towards our apartment. I could not lose Abbey, I loved her too much for that, but I could not lie to her any longer. It tore me up every time I came home after seeing Bridget. I knew that I had to tell Abbey, and I knew if I did that she would leave.
I had reached the door by this point, and my hand was on the knob before I knew what I was doing. I slowly opened the door and entered. Abbey stood in the hall, she was looking at me. “Where have you been?” She asked questioningly.
“I was at Bridget’s,” I whispered.
“Where?”
“Bridget, she’s the woman who I worked with on that illegal charities story last year,” I said in a monotone as if nothing were unusual at all. “We were just…”
“Just what? What were you doing that brings you back here at midnight? Why were you with her?” She said angrily, he voice getting louder. She took a step forward; there was anger in her eyes, but also pain. I was hurting her, already she was hurting, and I had hardly spoken yet.
It was just like when we were first going out, back in college. She had always been able to read my mind. She knew that I loved her before I opened my mouth; she had known everything that I had wanted, and she had read me like a book. And now she knew exactly what I was thinking. No words needed to be spoken; all I had to do was look into her eyes.
“I have been seeing her for a few months now. I don’t know what it was; there was something I needed, I was afraid to die. I don’t know what it was, but I’m sorry, I don’t want to lie to you anymore,” my words dropped off as I saw her face change. I saw no anger in her eyes, only pain, only sadness.
“Tell me one thing,” she whispered as her face hardened. “Have you slept with her?” I looked at her. Tears began to form in my eyes. “Tell me! Have you slept with her?” She said her voice now full of anger. I took a deep breath and swallowed my guilt,
“Yes,” it was all I could get out, and then the tears began to pour down my face. She just stared at me anger flashing in her eyes.
“WHY?! Why did you do it? Am I not pretty enough, are her breasts bigger than mine, does she moan and scream with pleasure? What made you do it? Why could you not just leave me? Why did you lie to me? How could you…” her shouts were drowned in a flood of tears. She fell back against the wall as she began sobbing.
“I’m sorry,” I sobbed, taking a step towards her, “I’m sorry. I did not have the heart to say goodbye, so I continued like before. I still love you; I don’t know what got into me. It was an addiction.”
“You fucking bastard!” She shouted as she lunged at me. She slapped me her nails cutting into my skin. “I hate you. I hate you. Damn you!” She slammed me into the wall and stuck me again. As she went back for another blow I reached out and grabbed her arm.
“Stop,” I said calmly, “I’m sorry. I will never live with myself. Just don’t hit me,” I said as more tears flowed from my cheeks.
“Are you asking for forgiveness?” She hissed at me, “Do not ask for pity. Do not ask for forgiveness. You are as good as dead to me,” she said fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. Then she turned and walked into the bedroom. I sank to the floor and sat there sobbing as I listened to the sounds of her packing.
Half an hour later she came out of the room carrying two suitcases. She set them down in the hall and turned back into the bedroom without even a second glance at me lying crumpled on the floor.
She came back out with a shoe box. It was the box which she kept all of her keepsakes in. All of her little treasures from when we had been dating. Without making a sound she threw the box at me. It hit me full in the face, little bits of memorabilia spilled out around me. I looked up at her and fresh tears rolled down my face. She stared at me for a long moment and then spoke, “You may keep all of that stuff. I am only taking what’s in these suitcases. I will send someone else for the rest of my stuff later. I just cannot look at you any longer. I wish I could forgive you, but the images that I see when I think of you. You have been ruined forever in my mind. I still love you, but I cannot be with you. Not…not knowing what I know…” She looked at me her eyes dry, “I don’t want to leave you, but you are not the man I fell in love you. I am sorry. Goodbye.” Then she walked for the door. I knew that I could not let her leave without saying everything I knew I had to,
“Wait. Don’t leave yet. Just let me speak.” She turned and looked at me, her tears had ruined her makeup, and there was pain in her eyes. She did not say a word; she merely stared, so I spoke. “I know that I have hurt you. But, I still love you. I have never loved Bridget; she was like a drug to me. I was addicted. She wasn’t even all that good, you were much better. I know that I never should have slept with her, and tonight was the last night, I told her it was over. But I could not live with the guilt, I had to tell you. I could not lie to you, I love you too much.” She looked at me hard and then spoke,
“I don’t know what you have just said. You’re mixing your words. But you can say that you love me as many times as you want, but it won’t change what you have done. I cannot look at you any longer.” And then she turned and walked from the apartment. I stared at the closed door, and I realized that my entire world had just walked out that door.
I had been with her since college, and I had loved her the whole time. We had spent our lives together. I had thought that the accident would take her from me. I had cried for two days when she was in a coma. I had been by her side when she awoke, and I had cried tears of joy. I could remember kissing her for the first time after the accident. I kissed her like it was the last time I ever would. Those were the happiest moments of my life, when I knew that she was alive, and that I was alive.
I had decided that day that I would cherish every moment with her that I had, and that I would love her like there was no tomorrow. And then Bridget had walked into my office. I had betrayed Abbey, I had betrayed myself. I had destroyed my world and killed myself in the process. It was a guilt that I never thought that I could feel. It was the kind of pain that I knew I would never forget. “Oh fuck it. You goddamn bastard,” I whispered as I brought myself back to the present.
I slowly rose off of the floor and turned and walked into the living room. In the corner was a cabinet with the fancy liquors which we had kept around for parties in it. I opened up the cabinet and took out a bottle of cognac. I took a glass and poured it half full. And then I downed the entire thing. The taste made me wretch, I had always hated alcohol, especially because of the accident. But now I felt that drinking was the only way out. I sat down in a chair and filled my glass again.
My face was dry now, my tears had gone. I sat and drank, and felt sorry for myself. I was overtaken by guilt, anger, pain, and hatred. There was nothing more to do.
I sat in the chair until I had drunk the entire bottle. I dropped the empty bottle to the ground and with a groan I tossed the glass across the room and listened to it shatter against the book shelf.
I began thinking again. I thought of how beautiful Abbey had been, how young and innocent she had always looked. She was much more beautiful than Bridget could ever be, and I loved her much more. I remembered the first time we had made love; it was not under the kitchen table. It was in her bed in her on campus apartment. We had done it slowly and passionately lingering over every touch, every feeling. And then we had fallen asleep naked in each other’s arms.
Now all of that was over, it would never happen again. I began to cry again whispering softly to myself, “I’m sorry. I did not want to hurt you. I did not want to scar you. If I could do it all again. I would love you like I should have.”
I began crying again, it seemed to be all that I could do. I do not know why I had done it, why I had slept with Bridget. She had brought me pleasure, and she was beautiful. But, she was not Abbey; I was in love with Abbey. Now our love was gone. I would never see her smile again; I would never see her laugh again. I would never feel her lips against mine. She was gone, I had killed her, and I had killed myself. With just a few words, and many months of adultery, I had destroyed my world. There was no where to run, I could only stand and watch the only world I knew and loved go up in flames. I could only stand there and watch my life burn down around my ankles knowing that I lit that match, that I said those words. It was over now, gone up in flames, all because of me.
Images of her lying in that hospital bed flooded into my mind. I thought of the anguish and fear I had felt, like I would never live again, and I would never love again. I felt that again as I sat in the chair, I knew I had destroyed it all. The sight of her blood spilling out on the pavement made me sob even more. The images made my guilt only worse, to think that I had cared for her and loved her like there was no tomorrow. And now I had thrown it all away, with one action, just a few words, and it was done.
I sat in that chair crying with guilt until the sun came up. I did not sleep, I did not pass out. I just let myself fall into darkness; I punished myself for what I had done to her. I had destroyed my world; I had killed myself, and everyone I loved.