57 comments/ 85627 views/ 45 favorites A Long Hard Road Out of Hell By: IronDragon Foreword: READ THIS FIRST This is the true account of how I lost and then regained my self-respect after returning from Afghanistan and finding my now ex-fiancé in bed with a guy who had at one time been my friend. This is real life, and you probably won't like the main character (me). I don't pull any punches in this, even with myself. It isn't as over the top as my fiction on here, but that's how real life is. Names and a few minor details have been changed to protect the guilty and innocent alike. Glossary of terms: A/O: Area of Operations Un-ass: Get the hell out of the area SOP: Standard Operating Procedure SOL: Shit Outta Luck 4th Point of Contact: The Ass. The 4th point of the body that hits the ground during a PLF. PLF: Parachute Landing Fall, how an Airborne soldier lands while using a T-10-Bravo parachute. Ate-up: Sloppy, messed up, fucked up MEPS: Military Entrance Processing Station. They're found in most major cities in the United States. STRAC: Strong, Tough, & Ready Around the Clock ETS: End of Time in Service Some things in this account have already been covered in "Coolness Under Fire" in the fact that I did take "Lena"(Kellie in that tale) to Prom and we gave each other our virginities that night. Differences include that we were stationed together in this one while in Panama during our first tour of service, but we still went back to being Best Friends, only with benefits whenever one of us wasn't in a relationship with someone else. It took us much longer to figure out that we love each other, which is how it really happened. This will explain why I really don't give a shit WHY a wife/girlfriend/fiancé cheats. My philosophy: Zero Tolerance. Excuses are like assholes. Everyone has them, and they're all shitty. The ONLY exceptions and reasons that would call for reconciliation are Rape, Drugged Rape, or something like that. Drunk is just an excuse, not a reason. This will also explain why I tend to have black female leads in my tales to help Hubby pick up the pieces of his life after Wifey cheats on him. Unless you've been cheated on and hurt beyond measure by someone you truly loved, don't judge me. I.D. ------------------------ Emily Henson was the woman I was going to marry. We'd met shortly after I moved from Santa Barbara to Tempe, Arizona for a job there. That was after 4 years in the US Army and another 4 years at UCLA where I got my computer science degree and my CompTIA certifications. I also moved there to be near my folks who had moved to Scottsdale. Being a UCLA alum made dealing with the Sundevils at nearby ASU a pain in the ass sometimes, but oh well. Shit happens. My Best Friend Lena was back in Santa Barbara, and we kept in touch regularly. That is, until my new girlfriend Emily told me to cut back on that. Emily, as it turned out, was jealous as hell that I had a female Best Friend. She told me that I needed to spend less time talking to Lena and spend more time with her. I should have seen the warning signs about Emily, to be honest. But shit, she was hot, sweet most of the time, and I had fallen in love with her. So, wisely enough, I didn't tell her about what Lena and I had done together before I met Emily. I'm Mitchell Nolan, by the way. 6'1", 198 lbs., still in shape after getting out of the Army back in '95 after a 4 year hitch. I still ran PT at least 3 times a week, just to keep fit. Airborne, Sniper, and Ranger schools had drilled it into my head to keep myself STRAC. Yeah, I had kept in shape even while getting my Computer Science degree at UCLA using the G.I. Bill and some student loans. Hell, I even still wore my Dogtags. It was the summer of 2000 when I first met Emily Henson. I'd just moved to town, and went to visit my parents up in Scottsdale. Her mom was friends with my mom, and we hit it off immediately. In spite of the fact that I really wasn't into blondes, Emily captured my heart with her bright green eyes and honey-blonde hair, not to mention her sweet personality and sexy smile. She had just graduated from ASU, but I didn't hold that against her. Anyone who watches College Football in the American southwest knows of the rivalry between UCLA and ASU. Duh. But that's not important right now. Yeah, I was falling fast for Emily, and for just over a year, we dated and then moved in together. It seemed like a whirlwind romance to be sure, but we seemed to click on a lot of levels. Granted, she didn't like heavy metal, or action movies, or sci-fi, but yeah. We were VERY compatible in bed, and I also listen to her favorite music, Country & Western, sometimes. I was young and stupid. What can I say? Back then, I thought that amazingly great sex was paramount to a relationship. I'll admit today that it's important, but not nearly as important as I thought it was back then. Anyway, a little over a year after we started dating, and I had proposed to her, 9/11 struck, and the whole country ground to a halt for a few days while the muckety mucks in Washington figured out what was going on and developed a plan of action. Watching the plane fly into Tower 2 galvanized me, and I called up the MEPS station in Phoenix and asked about reenlisting. Emily didn't want me to go, and when I called Lena, she didn't want me going back in either. I thought at least Lena would understand, having been with me in Panama during my first tour. I was Infantry, while she had been Military Police. She made some valid points. I wasn't 18 anymore. Hell, I was 28 when 9/11 happened. 10 years had passed since our first trip to MEPS, but I was hell and determined. She railed on me for about 15 minutes that this war wasn't going to end well, and that I would get my fool ass killed over there. At the end of our last conversation, Lena gave me an ultimatum. She said "Mitch, if you go back in, I'll never talk to you again!" I hung up on her. Yeah, I'm bullheaded. Emily was more supportive than my Best Friend, at least! Hell, Emily at least said she understood that I needed to do this. Long story short, I went back in, and I thought at the time that I was sacrificing a lifelong friendship in order to serve my country in time of war. As much of a bitch as Lena had been about it, I figured it was worth the trade-off. I breezed through Basic, AIT, as well as Airborne, Sniper, and Ranger schools again. Ok, the last one was a lie. I made it, but NOBODY breezes through Sniper and Ranger Schools. When I was in the first time, I spent most of my tour in Panama with 1/508th Airborne and then 5/87th Infantry after 1/508th deactivated. This time around, I was assigned to 2nd Ranger Batt. out of Ft. Lewis, Washington. I deployed in 2002 to Afghanistan, and I spent one tour there. Then one in Iraq, then back to Afghanistan for my last tour. I took Leave whenever I could to go home to see Emily. I missed her like crazy while I was overseas, and I thought she had missed me too. She said she did, and was very loving and passionate whenever I was home. Hell, if I hadn't taken a bullet through the knee almost 4 months before my ETS date, I might never have known that things on the home front weren't what they seemed. Jim Harper had been one of my friends when I moved into the area. I had worked with him in the IT department of the company where we were both employed, and Emily and I had double dated some with Jim and his girlfriend Sherri Lewis. Jim had told me when I left for my second run through Basic at Ft. Benning that he would keep an eye on Emily for me. I had shaken his hand and thanked him for that. Hell, he was engaged to Sherri at the time, so I had no reason to distrust him. Now, when I got wounded, I didn't tell Emily about it. Stupidly, I hadn't wanted her to worry about me. Yeah, hindsight is ALWAYS 20/20. I know that NOW, thank you very much. So when I got out of Walter Reed, and ETS'd down at Ft. Jackson, I decided to surprise her. Since I was just over 3 weeks early getting out from when I was originally scheduled to ETS. I was given a Medical Discharge thanks to my knee, and still walk with a barely noticeable limp to this day. Hell, I probably will for the rest of my life. I can still run, though. The months of physical therapy helped quite a bit. So I flew home and landed at Sky Harbor 3 weeks and a day early. Instead of calling one of my friends or family to come pick me up, I took a cab home. I was planning a big surprise for everyone. As I hefted my duffel bag and paid the cabby, I noticed Jim's car parked next to my '79 Camaro in the complex parking lot. I grinned at his "Fucked Over Rebuilt Datsun" Taurus. Damn Ford owner. Unless it's a Mustang, if it's made by Ford, it's fuckin' useless. The Mustang is the only Ford I like. Otherwise, I'm Chevy through and through. I thought about what he might be doing there, but figured that he must be helping her with something she needed. I guess in the grand scheme of things, I was kind of right about that. So thinking I'd surprise both my bud and my girl at the same time, I headed up to my door and slipped the key into the lock as quietly as possible. Even as I turned the doorknob and opened it, I knew something wasn't right. I could hear heavy breathing and moaning coming from our bedroom, and clothes had been scattered around the living room and down the hallway. My first thought was weird, thinking back on it now. I thought 'Huh. They must have planned a practical joke for me. But how did they know I'd be home so soon?' Stupid, right? Yep, I was dumber than a box of bowling balls at that particular moment in time. So I smirked and headed down the hallway to our bedroom. As I opened the door, half-expecting them to yell "SURPRISE" at me, what I saw instead made my blood boil. Jim was on top of the woman I loved, slamming his cock into her over and over as she had her legs wrapped tightly around his back and was bucking her hips up to meet his thrusts as she moaned. I stood there in a state of shock as I watched my ex-friend fuck my ex-fiancé with a cock a good inch shorter than mine and not nearly as thick as my 7 1/2 inch long 2 1/2 inch wide cut cock. From the muffled moaning that Emily was making, I knew she wasn't really enjoying it. Hell, when I fucked her or made love to her, she was a banshee in bed. Unfortunately for both of them, she was letting him do it to her, whether she was enjoying it or not! As the shock wore off, the anger came raging back. Some idiots get off on watching their wives or girlfriends with other guys. Too bad I'm not one of them. The cucks and swingers would probably call me selfish. Ask me if I give a flying rat's ass. Hell, I don't even remember thinking anything as I moved forward and took two strides before slamming my boot into Jim's balls from behind as he was pulling back for another thrust. My boot connected with his testicles, and Jim screamed like a little bitch as he was lifted up and out and OVER Emily's body. He fell off the side of the bed, his hands holding his nuts as he moaned and whimpered. That was when Emily noticed me standing there and tried to cover herself as she screamed. "Baby! It isn't what it looks like! What are you doing home?! Oh my God, I'm so sorry!" At least that was what it kind of sounded like to me, she said it so fast. I wasn't interested in excuses. I just looked at her and said "Shut the fuck up," as I walked over and grabbed Jim by his hair. His longish hair made a great handhold for dragging his ate-up worthless ass out of my apartment. My only thought at that time was to un-ass the piece of shit from my A/O. As I dragged him by his hair, he started screaming again and alternately tried to cover his balls and grab my arm to try and break my grip. Yeah, that last part wasn't going to happen. Now, I'm not huge, but I'm pretty powerfully built. The physical therapy for my knee was bad enough, but at least my arm strength hadn't suffered at all. In fact, holding myself up on the bars made my arms even stronger, and I had kept them working constantly. So it was with a slight limp that I was able to drag the dipshit out to the living room, open the front door, pick him up, and toss his worthless ass out onto the grass in front of my place. I slammed the door and went back for the cuntrag who had once been my fiancé. Emily was crying as I came back into the bedroom, covering herself as best she could with the sheet. I pulled the sheet off of her and grabbed her by her hair too. Her long honey-blonde locks, that I had once loved on her, made an even better handhold to drag her worthless cheating slut ass out of my apartment, and I did so without qualms or compunctions. Before opening the front door, I reached down and grabbed her left hand. I yanked the ring off of her finger and tossed her out like the trash she was. As soon as she was out the door, I slammed it and locked it behind her too. Fuckin' slut! Then I took a look around the place and my heart shattered as the adrenaline wore off. I staggered over to my couch and collapsed. I was hyperventilating and crying all at the same time as the enormity of what had just happened sank in. "Jesus," I said in a whisper. "What the fuck did I do wrong?" I vaguely heard the pounding on my door after God knows how long. A minute? 10 minutes? Half an hour? Fuck if I know. Fuck if I remember. I got up and staggered to the door. I should have looked through the peephole, but in my mental state at that moment, I couldn't be bothered. I figured it was either Jim, Emily, or both of them pounding on the door to get their clothes back. Fuck 'em. Let them run around naked for all I give a shit! So with righteous fury glowing in my eyes, I opened the door to a uniformed Tempe Police Officer. "Are you Mitchell Nolan?" he asked. "That's me. Why?" I asked woodenly. "This lady out here claims that you threw her out of her apartment along with the man seated beside her. Is that true?" he asked back. I looked over and saw Emily sitting on the back of an ambulance while the EMTs had given Jim a cold pack for his nut sack. "It's partially true, but she no longer lives her, and he's never been on the lease here, legally speaking. This is my apartment. My name is on the lease, not hers. She's my ex-fiancé and he's my ex-friend, in case that matters, and they no longer have any right to be in my apartment," I snarled. "Well, Mr. Nolan, we need to know what happened here. Either you can answer our questions here, or we can go downtown," he said. Now, I've dealt with enough MPs and cops already in my life to know when they're trying to strong-arm me. They expect you to cave immediately and do whatever the fuck they tell you to do. I wasn't having it. "Well, Officer Smith," I said, reading his name tag, "I just returned from Afghanistan with a 3 month stay in Walter Reed on the way. Anyway, I thought I'd surprise my fiancé and get home a bit early, but as you can see by how they're dressed, I was the one who got the shock. I decided then and there to revoke her privilege of living here, not to mention his privilege of visiting, and evicted them from the premises." The cop looked at his notepad and nodded as he wrote down my statement. "Ok, Mr. Nolan, would you be so kind as to at least give them their clothes back?" "Sure, Officer. Happy to help," I said with a touch of sarcasm. I told him to stay put and went to gather up what they'd been wearing before deciding to fuck on my bed. I then took the bundle to the door and handed all of it to the cop. "There ya go, Officer. Oh, one sec." I said as I took Emily's jeans and removed the keys. I found her apartment key and removed it from the keyring. Then I handed those to Officer Smith as well. "Thank you, but we may need to question you later," he hedged as he stepped back with the armload full of clothes. "No problem, Officer. Always happy to help. Tell her to wait a moment and I'll have the rest of her things ready to go." With those words and a quick "fuck you" type smile, I shut the door, locked it, then went and got several garbage bags. It took me less than 5 minutes to dump everything from what had been Emily's dresser and side of her closet into the bags, not to mention the toiletries from her side of our sink and tub. I could tell that Smith was surprised when I opened the door so soon after that and dumped the bags on the porch. "Here you go, Emily. Don't come back. Don't call. We're done!" I yelled at her, and saw her tear streaked face pleading for me to not do what I was doing. Tough shit, I thought. She should have thought about that before she fucked my ex-friend who by this time was MARRIED to Sherri. I felt bad for Sherri, but then I knew that she would need to know about this whole mess. I pulled my cellphone out of my pocket and dialed her number as I slammed and locked the door again. She answered on the second ring. "Oh my God, Mitch! Are you home?" she asked with a hopeful tone in her voice. Yes, Sherri is a friend too. Turns out, she was a damn sight better friend than ol' Jimbo. "As a matter of fact, I got in this morning, Sherri. Unfortunately, I have some bad news about Jim and Emily," I said, my voice choking up a bit. "What do you mean by 'bad news', sweety?" she asked. Her tone was apprehensive, to say the least. "Well, they aren't dead, if that's what you're worried about. Unfortunately. I just caught your husband fucking my fiancé. I'm sorry, Sherri. I had no clue until I surprised them. I think I wrecked Jim's... equipment, at least temporarily. I kicked him pretty hard in the balls," I said, then proceeded to tell her everything about throwing them out naked and the cops showing up. Now, some of you might wonder why I didn't get arrested. You see, Arizona is a Sovereign Property state, and that includes Lessees' rights on apartments. I was well within my rights to take out the trash, since my name was the ONLY name on the Lease. I'd never gotten around to adding Emily's name, so she had no more right to be there than what I had given her. I was also well within my rights to revoke her welcome status at any time and for any reason. So it was with a lot of remorse that I told Sherri that her hubby is a dirty dog and my ex-fiancé is a slut. "So it's over between you two?" she asked. "Yeah. She knew how I felt, and she knew the meaning of Exclusive and Engaged. As in she was mine and I was hers. Nobody else's. I can't and won't take her back," I said. "Sherri, I'm really sorry about this whole thing." Sherri was sobbing a bit, but rallied enough to talk after a couple minutes. "I can't believe he would do this to me, to us!" she was close to screaming into her phone. "I'm sorry, Mitch. I know you have no reason to lie to me. I'm going to have a LONG talk with that shithead when he gets home, though!" "Well, this could just be a one-time thing," I shrugged. "I don't know how it is for you, but I can't trust Emily anymore. I mean, if she's going to do this before we're even married..." I let my voice trail off as I got another lump in my throat. "I understand, hon," she said. "I'll let you go now. I have some stuff to do before Jim gets here," she said. "I'm sorry it was him with Emily. I know you were friends." "Yeah, 'were' being the operative term," I snorted. "Ok, Sherri. I'll let you go. Take care, ok?" "Ok, hon. You too." And with that, she Ended the call. No sooner had she Ended the call than my phone started ringing again with Emily's number. I Ignored it and shut my phone off. I had barely flopped down on the couch before the landline started ringing. I looked at the Caller I.D. and sure enough, it was Emily again. Why do cheaters always want to talk after they've been caught? Why do they want to try and "explain" shit that can't be explained or excused? A Long Hard Road Out of Hell I reached over and unplugged the phone from the wall jack, then went back into the bedroom and unplugged that one too. The LAST person I wanted to talk to at that time was Emily. Once that was out of the way, I went into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Wonder of wonders, at least the asshole didn't drink my beer! I still had almost a full case in there from when I'd last taken Leave a month before taking the bullet. I pulled out a Beck's Dark and drained it in several glugs. Then I pulled out another one and drank it more slowly as I collapsed back onto my couch. My brain was going through all the emotional turmoil that comes from this kind of betrayal. Emily wasn't the first to dump me or cheat on me, but her betrayal had hurt the most. The previous cheater was the girl I was supposed to take to Prom before I took Lena instead. Breakups I could deal with, and after Bridget (I'll just use the same name here for her as I did before) cheated on and dumped me, at least Lena and I had been there to pick each other up, and we had fallen In Love. Things don't work out quite like they do in fiction, though. She ended up engaged to some guy when we had ETS'd the first time, and even though it hadn't lasted, by the time they had broken up, I was with Emily by that point. Our agreement had remained the same. We wouldn't be more than Best Friends if one or both of us was in a relationship with someone else. I wanted nothing more than to call Lena and talk to her. I wanted nothing more than to go with her to the mall and catch a matinee movie. I NEEDED my Best Friend, but her last words to me kept hurtling through my brain. The finality of what she'd said stuck with me. I hated her in that moment. I hated Emily in that moment. I hated myself most of all, though. The fact that I'd been stupid again and had alienated my Best Friend when I needed her most was galling to me. How could I have been so stupidly fucktarded? Instead of giving her my reasoning and asking her advice, I'd just told her what I was going to do. She'd tried to talk me out of it, but I'd stupidly said "Well, I'm going. I have to do this." At least Emily had said she understood, of course. But then, who's to say she wasn't already fucking Jim behind my back? Right then, I started second-guessing our entire relationship. I started second-guessing myself, and I started second-guessing EVERYTHING in my life. "What did I do that was wrong?" I asked myself over and over. Yes, 6 beers later, and I was a fuckin' wreck. Nearly 2 full combat tours in Afghanistan plus the 1 in Iraq, never cracking under pressure, and I come back home to find my fiancé in my bed with another man, a man who was supposed to be my friend, and THEN I crack?! FUCK! The next 48 hours were a blur. I woke up. I ate. I shit. I pissed. I drank more beer. I went back to sleep. I had full blown Depression, and didn't know the first thing to do about it. What got me out of my stupor was the pounding on my door at 1000 hrs. 2 days after I'd gotten home. I couldn't go back to the bedroom to sleep, and the spare bedroom was being used as storage, so I had crashed on my couch instead. I awoke to light streaming in the windows and the pounding on the door getting louder. I was hungover and out of beer. Bad combination. I was angry as fuck when I looked through the peephole to see my mom and dad standing there. Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! I had completely forgotten to call them when I got back! I'd been planning to, up until I found Emily and Jim and had forgotten all about it. I opened the door and saw that Dad had a grim look on his face, and Mom was openly crying. I hugged them both, then backed off as they realized how much I stunk. Yeah, I hadn't showered since Outprocessing, either. "Ok, Mitchell, get a shower!" my dad ordered me. I nodded and shuffled back to the bathroom to take care of my hygiene, and the hot shower actually made me feel a bit better. When I had toweled dry and put on some fresh civvies, I was at least presentable, even though I had 2 days' stubble on my face. As soon as I came out, Dad started in first. "Why didn't you call us when you got in?" he asked with an irritated tone. "Good to see you too, Dad. Probably because my world came crashing down around me when I caught the whore in bed with the asshole," I snarled back, not in the mood to be lectured. I'd had enough lectures in College, thanks a fuckin' lot. Now it was Mom's turn to annoy me. "Don't call Emily a whore, Mitchell!" she admonished me. "You're right, Mom. Since Jim probably wasn't paying her, that would make her a slut," I reasoned. "Mitchell Nolan!" she shouted, but Dad interrupted her. "Mitch, are you sure that they were doing what you thought they were doing?" he asked. "Yes, Dad. I watched for a moment in shock before I kicked Jim right in the scrote and then dragged both of them out of here naked. Who told you I was back, by the way?" I thought I already knew the answer, but was just waiting for confirmation. "Emily came by and said that you kicked her out. She didn't say why, only that it was a misunderstanding," Mom said. "Oh, God, I was afraid that something like this would happen." She was shaking her head. "There was NO misunderstanding what I saw, and what do you mean by that, Mom?" I asked, suddenly getting a sinking feeling in my gut. I saw from the look that Dad had on his face that this was news to him too. Mom realized what she'd just said, and paled noticeably as she sighed with resignation. "I guess I should tell you, but I saw them together at the mall a little over a year ago. I confronted Emily later that day, and she admitted that Jim was... satisfying her while you were away. I... I didn't know what to do. She begged me to keep it a secret, and promised that when you got out, she would stop with Jim." I saw a tear in Mom's eye as she finished telling me this, but right then, I had no sympathy for her. "So you knew, and didn't bother to give me a heads-up about it? Thanks, Mom. Thanks a helluva fuckin' lot!" I shouted at her. "Mitch, don't talk to your mother that way," Dad said. "Both of you need to leave now. Please. I'm not in the mood right now to listen to anymore of this bullshit," I said softly. Now, most people that know me know that I'm not extremely pissed off until I start talking in a barely audible whisper. When I'm shouting, that's only moderately angry. When I drop my voice, that's when I'm ready to commit homicide. "Ok, we'll leave. I'm sorry, son," my father said as he guided my sobbing mother to the door. They closed it behind them, and I threw the deadbolt again. As soon as I'd done that, I went back into the living room and screamed out in emotional pain. My own mother had known about it! She'd done NOTHING to stop it or even tell me that something was going on! How the hell could MY OWN MOTHER not tell me this shit?! How the hell could she side with that cheating slut over her own son?! Up until that moment, I had loved my mother as any son should. She'd cared for me when I was sick as a kid. She'd patched up my skinned knees and other times when I'd gotten into fights or skateboarding or surfing or doing stuff with my friends and got injured. Up until that moment, I would have died for my family, and my mother in particular. Up until that moment, my mother had walked on water, and nobody could have told me otherwise. But then, I'd thought the same of Emily. In a different way, of course, but still the same level of love in my heart. Now my heart was breaking twice over. "Where will the betrayal end?" I asked to an empty apartment. I had to get out of there. I couldn't keep moping and feeling sorry for myself forever. I turned on my cellphone to about a hundred voicemails and texts from Emily. I listened to one of the voicemails, and she was sobbing and begging me to talk to her. I deleted the rest of the voicemails, and deleted the texts unread. I turned my phone back off, then went out to my baby. My '79 Z-28 had been neglected by yours truly for too damn long. I got in, buckled up, and took my baby for a spin. As I said in "Coolness Under Fire", I had restored that Camaro when I was in High School, and had kept up maintenance on it ever since. One clutch later, and it was still going strong. Engine was perfect, as I did maintenance on it every six months, and of course oil changes every three months. While I'd been gone, Emily had taken it to get checked twice, and had kept gas in it. I told her to add some Octane Booster to it and drive it every couple months. At least she'd done that. I'd have to thank her for that eventually... maybe. During my time in, I'd let my CompTIA certifications slip, so had to get recertified in A+, Network+, Server+, and Security+. Yeah, I didn't have much time over there to keep them up to date. I got lucky and was able to audit some classes at a local Computer tech school in Phoenix, and after 5 months had my Certifications again. Once I had my Certs up to date again, I was able to find work with a computer repair shop and started trying to put my life back together. During that time, the calls and texts from Emily finally stopped, and I breathed a sigh of relief when a week had gone by without so much as a peep from my ex. Mom called me a few times to see how I was doing too, and I was able to stay civil with her... barely. Yeah, my ex-slut-fiancé was history, but Mom, as much as I didn't like her right then, was still Family. My shitwad little brother at least stayed the fuck out of the whole mess. Dad, on the other hand, kept wanting me to patch things up with Mom, and wanted ME to apologize to HER. I told him, as diplomatically as I could, that it would be a cold day in Hell before I apologized to her, and she would need to apologize to me before I even talked to her for more than a few minutes at a stretch. Yeah, she STILL hadn't apologized to me for keeping Emily's affair with Jim a secret. Hell, every time she tried to "explain" the situation, I hung up on her. Fuck it. I don't need explanations. No explanation would make it ok in my book. As far as I was concerned, it would just be an excuse. Excuses are like assholes. Everyone has them, and they all fuckin' stink. Finally it all came to a head when I went to my folks' house for Thanksgiving that year, and Emily and her mom were there too. I should've fuckin' known. I saw them, turned to leave, and was intercepted by Dad. "Son, you need to listen to Emily, at least. Just to give you a sense of closure. To find out why she did it," Mom said as Dad was blocking my exit. A fuckin' ambush. SOP calls for the ambushed to assault through the ambush with violence of action. That, unfortunately, doesn't work in the civilian sector. So I did the civilian equivalent of assaulting through the ambush. "No, Mom. I don't need to listen to excuses. That's all she has. She was lonely. She was sexually frustrated. Jim was there for her. She had an affair with a MARRIED MAN!" I shouted at them all, glaring at Emily the whole time. "And you didn't need to go and tell Sherri about it! You ruined their marriage!" Mom shouted right back. I laughed harshly at that. "No, mom. Jim ruined Jim's marriage. Jim and Emily. Not me. Don't even try to make this my fault! While I was over there fighting for our country, I was being cuckolded by a man who said he was my friend! Is that how friends are supposed to be? If I ever see him again, he'd better run. I won't be so nice to him as the last time I saw him!" Mom, strangely enough, had no comeback for that one. I think it was the venom in my tone that shut her up. Emily and her mom were both looking down as if ashamed. I looked at Emily and addressed her. I had an idea. "Emily, do you really want to be with me again? Faithfully this time?" Oh, did I fail to mention that Sherri kicked Jim out and Divorced him? She moved into an apartment two buildings down from mine, and we'd become friends with benefits. Anyhow, I had an idea of how to deal with Emily. Emily's face brightened, and she looked at me with hope in her eyes. "Yes, Mitch! Yes, I want to be with you again. I swear that I will never cheat on you again! Please! Give me one more chance!" I nodded. "Ok, then this is how it's going to be. If you accept this, we'll try it. Go into the Army. Get posted overseas. While you're over there, I will have a year long affair with Sherri. While professing to love you, I will be having sex with Sherri whenever we get a free moment." As I talked, Emily paled more and more as I gave her my ultimatum. Finally, she started sobbing uncontrollably. "I'll take that as a no," I said sarcastically with a shrug. Then I softened my tone a bit. "Do you see now, Emily? Would you be able to take me back if I did that?" Emily shook her head no. "No, I couldn't." She ran out of the room after saying that, sobbing with her mom right behind her. I looked at Mom. "Mom, if Dad was doing that to you, would you want to know or not?" Mom was sobbing now too as she realized that the tables were turned. I wasn't going to let anyone make me the fuckin' bad guy. She finally said it. "I'm so sorry, honey. I thought they would stop, but they didn't. I'm so, so sorry I didn't tell you. I thought if I did, you would get hurt over there." That hadn't occurred to me. I should have thought of that, dammit! I'd seen soldiers in my unit get Dear John letters from wives or girlfriends and lose their edge after reading them. Some seemed to lose the will to live, and others were so distracted out on patrol that they would step on a landmine or get caught flatfooted in an ambush. I sat down heavily on the couch as I shook all over and dropped my face into my hands. Mom had done it to protect me. Hell, it was my fault for not telling anyone that I'd been wounded and was coming home, too. Once again, I didn't want them to worry about me. Like I said, I was fuckin' stupid back then. Like a friend of mine says, everything happens for a reason. God works in mysterious ways. However you want to put it. As soon as I had ahold of myself, I hugged Mom, hugged Dad, hugged my shithead brother Mel, and left before Emily and her mom returned from wherever Emily had gone to cry. I told Mom that I understood, but I just couldn't be there anymore. Once I was back at my place, I called Sherri and she came over. We spent a quiet Thanksgiving together with some takeout from Fry's Marketplace. "I take it things didn't go well?" she asked after we'd finished eating. "It actually went better than I thought it would," I sighed. "At least now I understand why my mom didn't tell me about the affair. It made sense, too. While I was over there, I saw guys get killed because their wives or girlfriends dumped them." Sherri nodded. "Ok, I can see that. But she should have at least told me before I married the shithead!" I couldn't blame Sherri for her anger. Until a few hours before, I had the same anger towards my mom. "I hear you, and wait... Jim was screwing Emily since BEFORE you got married?!" I asked, astonished. That would put their affair at over 2 years, not the one year that Mom had thought it was, and Emily had told her it was. Sherri nodded. "Jim admitted to it in marriage counseling. Ugh, I just wanted him gone, but the fucking Judge ordered it," she said as she rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm just thankful that I didn't marry her, no offense to those who do get married," I gave her a half smile and a shrug. "No messy Divorce to deal with." Sherri just shook her head and smirked back at me. "None taken, hon. Well, what do you want to do now that we're out of food?" The look on her face told me exactly what she wanted to do. "I wouldn't mind fucking your brains out, if that's what you're asking," I said with a grin. "Good, because I need to get my brains fucked out tonight," she confirmed. That was a hell of a night! We were at it from about 1830 hrs. until midnight, before exhaustion finally caught up to us. There was no love with Sherri, though. We were just relieving each other's needs while getting a sort of "revenge" on our exes. She admitted that Jim had never made her come, and she was as mystified as I was why the fuck Emily would take up with him, and continue even after realizing that he wasn't that great in bed. Sherri had married him because she loved him, and had never cheated on him. But then, Sherri had been a virgin on her wedding night. Definitely old fashioned, but hey. To each their own. She had no plans on getting married again anytime soon, and I had no plans to get into a real relationship anytime soon either. Fuck Buddies worked for both of us. I missed Lena, though. Every time I picked up my phone and wanted to call her, I would curse myself and put it back down. Her last words to me kept going through my head, and I'd been a total asshole and just hung up on her back then. Life, such as it was, went on. I worked. I ate. I drank... a LOT. I slept. I shit. I pissed. Yep, I was surviving. The hurt and anger cooled after a while, of course. Hell, it was the longest I'd ever held a grudge. No, I didn't get back with Emily. I do have SOME self-respect, thanks in part to Sherri. I'm proud of myself in that even at my lowest point, I never gave in to Emily begging me to let her back into my life. That wasn't going to happen. I remembered some good advice I'd received about dealing with cheaters. "Get out. Get out and don't look back." I remembered the good times with Emily, of course. But like I said earlier, the warning signs had been there. She was possessive. She wanted to control me. She couldn't stay faithful to me, judging by recent evidence. She's a selfish woman who thinks with the gash between her thighs. Fuck it. So I didn't love her anymore, but I didn't hate her anymore, either. Just indifference. Then Sherri got a much better job offer in Albuquerque, New Mexico. So after helping her move over a long weekend, we had one last romp before going our separate ways. It was fun, energetic, and damned if Sherri wasn't awesome in bed! She'd come a long way since our first time together after her Divorce was final. But when I got back to Tempe after a day of driving the morning after our last time, I found myself in the same rut I'd been in before. Except this time, Sherri was gone, and most of the women I asked out were looking for more than a FWB relationship, which I wasn't ready for. I'll be honest and say straight out that I didn't trust women for anything. Hell, even with knowing and understanding why Mom had kept Emily's affair a secret, it would be a long time before I would really trust her again, if ever. A few years passed. Life went on. Well, survival went on. I fell into a rut of Work-Eat-Sleep for months. Get up, eat, go to work, eat lunch, come home, eat dinner. I supported the entire fuckin' staff at Carl's Jr. and Burger King. Yes, I CAN cook. I didn't have the motivation for anything like cooking my own meals, though. I still worked out, though. Every morning early before work, I'd go for a run. I'd do 100 pushups, sit ups, and run for a couple of miles. Until one morning I didn't. I'd lost my motivation. Hell, I fell back into depression from that disease, lack-a-nookie. In layman's terms, I severely needed to get laid. No, I didn't get a hooker or escort, even if I was tempted. Nah, it ended up being just me, internet porn, and Rosie Palmer with her 5 sisters. I also started smoking cigarettes. Yeah, I know. Smoking sucks. I knew it before, but my self-respect was so fuckin' low at that time, I didn't really give a shit anymore. One Saturday, I was thinking about Lena back home. Yes, I still thought of Santa Barbara as Back Home. It was where I'd grown up my first 5 years before our fathers went back into the Army, and where I'd gone to High School after they got out again. Where WE had gone to High School. Lena and me. It was where most of my fond memories were rooted, too. A Long Hard Road Out of Hell I picked up my phone to call her, praying she still had the same number. It wouldn't have surprised me if she'd gotten a new phone, though. We hadn't talked in over ten years. I had gotten a new phone, but hadn't sent her my new number. Stupid of me, I know. But then, maybe it was stupid of me to put her number on my new phone too. But then again, before our falling out, we'd been Best Friends for 25 years. We'd known each other for pretty much all our lives. As I was getting my courage up for a probable hang up when Lena heard my voice, there was a knock at my door. I breathed a sigh of temporary relief from what I would have most likely faced, and gratefully answered my door. I must have stood there for a good minute with my mouth hanging open as I looked at the slightly older, but still beautiful face of my Best Friend. She was smirking with a twinkle in her eye as she regarded me. I was a bit thinner than I had been, since I wasn't working out near as much as I used to. "Lena?! What the fuck are you doing here?" I asked incredulously. "Some greeting for your best buddy, white boy. Aren't you going to invite me in?" she said, her smirk never fading. To say that I was stunned would be the understatement of the millennium. I wordlessly stepped back and let her in. She came forward and hugged me tight as she kicked the door closed behind her. Reflexively, I hugged her back tightly. I felt myself reacting to her body, too, even as I felt profound relief to even see her again. She had kept in shape, unlike me. Her petite 5'5" frame was still in great shape, while being soft in all the right places. "Well, somebody's happy to see me," she said with a giggle as she felt my hard-on pressing into her belly. "We both are, Lena," I replied with a laugh of relief. "I thought..." "Shush, hon," she said and pulled back from the hug a little. She stood on her tip toes to kiss me with her full lips. "How?" I asked when she pulled back from the kiss with a smile on her lips. She saw the look of confusion on my face. I had a million questions for her, but right then I couldn't ask any of them. How had she found me? I wasn't listed. Why was she here? She had made it clear 10 years before that she didn't want to ever talk to me again if I went through with going back in to fight. Where was she now? Had she moved here? "I need to ask you why, first," she said, her face turning serious as she backed up and slapped me hard. "Why the fuck didn't you call me once in 10 years to let me know you were alive?!" I was stunned again. Not just by the slap, which stung like a motherfucker, but by her tone. There was more relief and fear in her voice than anger. "I... I thought you never wanted to talk to me again," I replied. It was the only thing I could think of to say. "I didn't mean NEVER, Mitch! I mean COME ON! We're BEST FRIENDS YOU IDIOT!" she screamed at me, then burst into tears as she hugged me tight again. "You shoulda called me!" "I'm sorry, Lena. God, I'm so sorry," I said as tears streamed down my own face to match the ones on hers. I looked into her dark brown eyes and saw the pain there. Her face softened, and she smiled again as she pulled me close and held onto me for dear life. I held onto her the same way. I'd been lost without her in my life. Just talking to her and listening to her advice on whatever the situation was. I missed it all. I pulled her into the living room, and we sat on the couch together. Once seated, I was finally able to ask some questions. "Lena, how did you find me?" I asked. "I mean, you didn't know my address here after I moved." "Thank your mom for that, hon," she replied with a smile. "She called me last week and told me your situation, and how you were barely taking care of yourself." NOW it made sense! Mom knew that I still barely trusted her after the shit she'd withheld from me about Emily and Jim. I had to chuckle. "That makes sense now," I said. "She's still trying to get back on my good side for not letting me know about Emily and Jim when she found out a year before I did." To my surprise, Lena just nodded. "Yeah, she told me that too. I know why she did it, though. You would have died over there if she'd told you! Dammit, boo! If you had died over there, I would never have been able to tell you how sorry I was for not supporting you more." "What?" I asked, even more shocked now. "About a year after you went back in, I talked to Daddy about it. He said that you had to do what you had to do, and I shoulda been there more for you. I shouldn't have cut you out of my life like that," she said. "I would have called you if I had your new number, but you never called me. I was blaming myself for the way we ended our last convo. Dammit, Mitch, I'm so sorry." The tears were running down her face again, and mine were barely being kept in check. Instead of saying anything, I pulled her to me and just held her close. We spent three hours catching up. I gave her the whole story of what had happened to me over in Afghanistan and Iraq, and then the shit I'd been through when I got home. Lena's tale was interesting. After a few years as a SBPD patrol officer, she transferred to the LAPD and made Detective. She'd been forced to resign from the LAPD a few years later for excessive force in subduing a suspect in a child molestation case, and had put her Criminal Science degree to good use at a Law Firm in Santa Barbara where she worked as a paralegal. She was also looking to go to Law School soon. She wanted to work in Family Law, with a specialization in Child Advocacy. Working at that Law Firm had given her a good understanding of the law, so she figured that Law School would be a snap. Now, I will never speak Legalese. I find the double talk in there to be extremely mind-numbing and just plain stupid. Just say what you fuckin' mean! I also normally hate lawyers, but I couldn't fault Lena for her choice of legal specialization. It's a noble calling for a lawyer. , Then I pulled out my pack of Marlboros. I'd become addicted quickly in the 2 years since I'd started smoking. My workouts had suffered, but with my fast metabolism, I just got skinny instead of fat. I wasn't nearly as buff as I'd been the last time Lena had seen me. "Holy shit, when did you start smoking?!" she demanded. "A couple years ago, why? I know that we promised each other that we wouldn't, but 2 years ago we weren't even talking. I was stressed out, and a guy I knew gave me a smoke," I shrugged. In answer to that, she plucked the pack out of my hand and tossed it into the trashcan. "No more!" she said with finality. "First thing we need to do is get you off that shit." Now, at that time, I was out of a job. The Computer Shop I'd worked at had closed its doors, so I was SOL for work at the moment. I was getting Unemployment after being laid off, but that was about it. I was barely scraping by and the job market wasn't too great for finding work. "Oh? And how? I can't afford the Patch," I snorted. "Lena, I'm not the same guy I was before Emily betrayed me. I used to trust people. Then the woman I loved went and ripped my heart out!" Lena just looked at me. "Are you really that dense, Mitch?" she asked. "Well, DUH! I'm a guy, so yes I'm dense," I replied with my eyes crossed and my tongue out the side of my mouth. She laughed in spite of herself. "Mitch, listen up. I'm single now. You're single now. Get the picture? I think we should give us another try. The whole FWB thing was good when we were younger, but now..." The look that Lena was giving me said it all as I gazed into her eyes. It had been over a year since I'd been laid, not counting my hand and internet porn. Ok, I know, that doesn't count. There was only one problem. "I get what you mean, sweety," I said with a sigh. "But the thing is, I'm not looking for a relationship. I mean, I love you, and you know that. The thing is, I don't need to get into a situation again where I give someone my heart, and she stomps all over it." I saw the shock on her face, followed by the anger. "I can't believe you! You think I'm going to do you like that ho did?! You really think that I would do that to you, Mitchell?! I LOVE YOU, YOU MORON!" Her ferocity made me stop and look at my Best Friend for what seemed to be the first time. I'd seen different sides of her before, but never like this. I'd seen the loving and caring side. I'd seen the tough as nails side. I'd even seen the hurt and angry side. But this... this side seemed to be all of them put together, if that makes any sense. She was hurt, angry, tough, but still caring and loving. Even as she yelled at me, getting the message through my thick skull. "You're right, Lena," I said as I realized that this beautiful woman had been right in front of me all along. Not just beautiful physically, but beautiful on the inside, too. I had literally never thought that we could be together as more than Best Friends, in spite of that summer we'd spent together after Prom, and in spite of the FWB relationship we'd had while stationed together and in college whenever we weren't dating someone else. Man, had I been fuckin' stupid! She reached out and stroked my cheek, and just like that, the years fell away as I took her in my arms and kissed her sweet full lips. I was hungry for her again. Hell, maybe I always was! I'd been in love with Emily, but now I was again, and maybe always had been In Love with Lena. The capital letters make a difference, trust me on this. She returned my kiss, and her lips parted for mine as our tongues danced slowly in each other's mouth. It had been too long since I'd held her. It had been too long since I'd kissed her. It had been too damn long since I'd felt her body pressed to mine. I was overcome by her presence as we kissed. Her sensuality and sexuality permeated the room, and I was losing myself in her touch. As we broke the kiss finally, I stood up wordlessly and helped her to her feet. She smiled as I led her to my bedroom. Once there, I undressed her slowly, kissing each new part of exposed skin. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and I enjoyed kissing her neck and chest. It had been far too long for both of us. I realized this as I felt her tremble under my lips, letting out gasps and moans as I kissed her beautiful chocolate skin. Lena has always been a health nut, since diabetes runs in her family. She always exercises and has always made sure she eats right. The combination has contributed to a woman who looks at least 10 years younger than she really is. I lowered my mouth to her nipples as her hands entangled themselves in my hair. She's always loved it when I suck her nipples, nibbling gently until they swell and harden in my mouth. I reached down to her pussy, slipping my finger inside. God, she was wet! But then, she always gets very wet when we would fuck or make love over the years. "Make me yours again, boo," she moaned softly. "Make me yours forever this time, please." Her words pushed me onward. I laid her on my bed, then disrobed quickly as I gazed upon her dark perfection. My dark angel of sin, my dark angel of love. Lena smiled up at me as I smiled down at her, then climbed on the bed on top of her. I leaned down and kissed her lovingly, and her arms came up around my shoulders. "I need to taste you, baby," I whispered as we broke the kiss again. She shuddered at my promise, then grinned and said, "You'd better, boo. It's too damn hard to find a man who knows how to eat pussy. It's been quite a while." I grinned and moved down her beautiful body, kissing and licking as I went. She spread her thighs open for me as I inhaled the sweet scent of her aroused pussy. My lips and tongue traveled slowly as I savored every inch of her skin. When I finally reached her shaved pussy mound, I inhaled deeply through my nose as my tongue touched her already exposed clit. Once again, her taste exploded in my mouth, and I tongued her pussy like a man possessed. I ate her like a mad man, flicking my tongue across her little nub, then delving deep inside her hot wet tight pussy. "Oh FUCK, baby!" she exclaimed. "Eat my pussy, boo! Eat this pussy until I COME!" she demanded. I gave her what she wished for, licking deeply inside her, swirling my tongue around inside her beautiful pussy. I reached her g-spot, and she gasped again as I heard her start to scream out. Then her cum flooded out of her and into my mouth as I locked my lips around her pussy, drinking down her sweet nectar in gulps. She arched her back off the bed as I continued to lick her, and her orgasm transitioned into a second one. Lena has always been multi-orgasmic, and this time was no exception! Finally, she pushed my face away, and then pulled me up and threw my on my back. "I love eating you, baby," I confessed. "But then, you knew that already." "I know, and I need to taste you too," she said with a wicked gleam in her eye. "Oh God, yes," I moaned as she took me into her mouth. The sight of her full lips that put Angelina Jolie to shame, around my cock was almost too much to bear, and as she deep throated me, I could feel my cock swelling even larger in her mouth. It had been some time for me, like I said earlier. I wasn't sure how long I would last when my Best Friend was doing to me exactly what she knew I liked! Sensing that I was too close, too quickly, she backed off a bit. "Nuh uh, baby boy," she said as she grinned wickedly. "Not til you get into my pussy again." "Oh shit," I groaned as she shut me down so close to coming. "Nuh uh, boo. No complaining. We need to make love properly. Besides, I know you. I know you can get it up again quick after coming, but I want every load of your cum inside my pussy. You know how much I love that, and I'm sick of feeling condoms inside me. I've never used a condom with you, and I never will. I need you raw." That was the way I heard what she said, anyway. It took a moment for everything she said to sink into my lust-addled brain, though. It was one of our things. Lena stayed on birth control, but would never allow a guy she was dating or in a relationship with to come inside her... except for me. So knowing my Best Friend, I allowed her this, and pushed her onto her back. "Then I'm going to make love to you, then fuck you, then make love to you again," I said in a whisper as my cock parted her pussy lips. "Yes, baby," she moaned as I thrust into her. God, she was almost as tight as when we'd first made love on the Bluffs overlooking the Pacific after Prom. It didn't take me long to find our familiar rhythm, so I guess what they say is true. It's like riding a bike. You never really forget how to do it. So I thrust into my Best Friend over and over, slowly at first, then faster as I felt her and heard her building up to another one of her Earthshattering climaxes. That was a good thing, because I knew I wasn't going to last much longer! Our thrusts and moans intensified as she bucked her hips up to meet mine, and her fingernails dragged down my back as she screamed my name and came. Her climax set me off, and I literally roared as I thrust deep into her and unleashed a torrent of cum deep into her womb. It was the first time in over 10 years that I'd come inside a woman without a condom on, and it felt just as good as it always had with her. "Yes, baby! Fuck yes!" she shouted as she felt me swell inside her and release. Her orgasm rolled into a second as she came with me again. "You are so amazing, baby," I whispered in her ear as I lay on top of her. Both of us were coated in a sheen of sweat, and her arms and legs were still wrapped around me as she stroked my hair and held me close. "So are you, honey. I love you," she replied in a muffled whisper. "I love you too, Lena," I said with a smile as I rolled off of her and pulled her into my arms. We just laid there together as our bodies cooled down a bit and our breathing returned to normal. "So," she said, "what am I gonna do with you?" "Well, I need to find a job and get my ass back to work," I said with a chuckle. "But first, I need some more of your loving. That's what you can do with me." * * * * * Well, I did indeed get some more of Lena's loving, and by the time we finished that night, we were both completely wiped. We fell asleep in each other's arms for the first time in over 12 years. The difference this time was that we were more than just Best Friends With Benefits. The next morning, we talked a lot about where we were going. She wanted to be with me, and I wanted to be with her. There were some logistics issues to sort through, of course. Would she move here? Would I move there? In all honesty, I was sick to death of the Phoenix area and the scorching summers. Granted, the winters were awesome there, but the summer is just too fuckin' hot. So I asked her about IT jobs in Santa Barbara. She had me bring out my laptop and we looked it up on Bing. Sure enough, Santa Barbara and Ventura had quite a few IT jobs available in the area, so I filled out some applications while we were sitting there. A few hours later, though, and I was dying for a cigarette! Lena noticed me fidgeting and when I told her that I was going through nicotine withdrawals, she grabbed me and took me back to bed. "Ok, Mitch. Whenever you want to suck on a cigarette, suck on these instead," she said as she pulled off her tank top and shoved one of her beautiful breasts into my mouth. And that was how it went for the next few days. Every time I got a case of the shakes or started gritting my teeth as my brain slowly purged the nicotine, I would find a hard nipple or a sweet clit to suck on. Hell, it took my mind off of smoking! I think the term for that method of quitting is called "Supermodel Sex", or something like that. I found that "Black Girl Sex" worked even better! By the end of the week, I had an email response for a job at a data entry firm in Santa Barbara, and called them up to see if I could schedule an interview for the following week. Lena went with me to see Emily, since Mom and Dad STILL wanted me to find "closure" with her. She had been dating guys off and on, not that I cared. But for some odd reason, she refused to really move on until she had a chance to talk to me. Since I didn't hate her anymore, I finally shrugged and said "Ok." Anyhow, when Lena and I showed up, Lena just stood beside me as I listened... Ok, I didn't really listen... All I heard from Emily's mouth was "blah blah blah blah blah blah blah" etc., etc. But I nodded politely where it seemed appropriate. When she finally stopped talking like the teacher in the Peanuts cartoons, I said "Ok, Emily, You can move on now. Find a guy you can love and be faithful to, and I wish you luck." I even allowed her to hug me. When we got outside, I looked at Lena and asked her, "Did you catch any of what she said?" Lena just laughed and rolled her eyes at that one. "Unfortunately. You must have been tuning her out." "Yeah, guilty. I was listening to Metallica in my head while she was talking. Was it anything important?" I asked. "Nah, just shit that made me want to smack the blonde outta her hair," she shrugged. "She's a natural blonde." "And?" We both laughed our asses off as we made our way to my car. Oh, and Jim? I haven't seen him since that day that I threw his sorry ass out of my apartment butt naked. He never tried to contact me. He never even threatened me after I told his wife about his affair with my ex-fiancé. The last I heard about him, he had moved back east somewhere. I don't care what he does with his life now. Jim isn't important anyway. He always had an overinflated ego, and it cost him one of his best friends and a great wife. A Long Hard Road Out of Hell * * * * * I dropped Lena off at the airport on Friday, and promised to be there on Sunday evening. Lena had already told me that I could pack up and crash at her apartment, so I packed up all the clothes I needed, along with my PS3 and Xbox 360, and terminated my lease on the apartment. I lost my deposit, but that was ok. I said fuck it, grabbed my shit, loaded up My Baby, and got the fuck out of there. I had $300 in my pocket for gas and food. It was all I was going to need for my trip. I had a cooler on my passenger seat with Gatorade in it and my PSP was hooked into my stereo with a tape deck adapter for sound, and the cigarette lighter power adapter keeping it up and running. I rarely listen to the radio when I drive, but as I was pulling out of my complex, I had the radio on instead of the PSP. I figured I'd listen to KUPD for a bit, since I wouldn't be hearing it again anytime soon. I smiled as I got onto I-10 heading west, and the most appropriate song I could think of came on the radio. Marilyn Manson isn't my favorite artist, but he sure knew what he was talking about when he sang "Long Hard Road Out of Hell." I sang along with it, then after it finished, I turned on my PSP and listened to some other Metal as I drove out of Hell with a smile on my face, and into my future. The future that Lena and I are building together. ------------------------- Afterword: Now you know, ladies and gentlemen. Now you know why I don't give a rat's ass about WHY a cheater cheats. Now you know why I put a black lady as the female lead in most of my tales to help pick the "hero" up after he falls. Love it or hate it, that's your choice. It happened to me. I.D.