115 comments/ 95502 views/ 22 favorites No One Won By: Slirpuff Revenge sometimes can be a double edge sword. Wielding it around carelessly can do the intended damage sought but can also hurt the person doing the wielding. In this case we both got permanently hurt. No one won or got anything out of it other than the lawyers either time. Both of us ended up looking like assholes while alienating most of the people around us. If I had to do it over again, I wouldn't have done what I did, but I probably wouldn't have married Jean either. Nevertheless, it did happen and now we're going to have to live with what we both did. As I said, no one came out a winner. I'm not even sure why I did it. That's what I told myself when it happened the second time. I guess facts be known, I just didn't have the common sense to stop it and never in a million years did I ever think I'd get caught, but I did. Something about a text message, that I never saw come in, that was inadvertently read by my wife. After that, I was screwed so to speak. Rhonda was just so, hell, I don't even know what to say, other than there was something about Rhonda that drew me to her. Tall, lean, smart, with an incredible sensuality about her. Her skin was chocolate brown, and she wore her black hair cropped short. She wasn't what I'd call a true beauty but had an aura around her that hypnotically drew me in. She was the editor assigned to me by the publishing company Anderson and Davis who were printing my children's books. She was going to edit my book chapter by chapter as I finished them. Rhonda was picked because she conveniently lived in the same state and would touch base with me once a month to both pick up my new work and go over what she'd finished. You would think listening to me babble on that I had a shitty marriage and was unfulfilled sexually in my marriage, quite the contrary. I loved my wife Jean and had a beautiful daughter April, who I adored. How could I have been so stupid? My wife and I had been married for just over four and a half years. She works for Connor and Edwards, a large accounting firm based out of Atlanta. She had started there the year she graduated from college and was coming up on five years with them. We met the same year we both graduated college at a Barnes and Noble bookstore of all places. She is an avid reader who always seemed to have a book in her hands. I had graduated with a degree in English Literature and was researching books on teaching. We were in the same long checkout line, started talking and that night had our first date. She was going out with a 'hunk' as she referred to Dennis, but didn't like the way he treated her or talked to her at times. It didn't take me long to win her over. I treated her like I would want to be treated by a girlfriend and soon Dennis was history. If I were to describe Jean, I could probably sum it up by saying she was very pretty. She wasn't a knockout, not that I am anything to rave about either, but was easy on the eyes as they say. At about five foot five, she wore her dark brown hair short, had hazel eyes, and a nice figure. She was about a 34B and even though she had a slim waist she was what people would say a little hippy not that I cared. Jean was very smart and a wiz with numbers. She wasn't boring and dull like most of the accountants I'd known but was vibrant and full of life. Whatever in the world could have possessed me to cheat on her? I'd like to say I romanced her and she fell head over heals in love with me but it didn't happen that way. We started to go out and she just kind of took over. She was the one to push the dates and after six months was the one to ask where we were going with our relationship. I thought it was a match made in heaven, we were so much alike or so I thought. "Steve, I think we should get a place together," is how the conversation started one night. "I love you, you love me, and hell, we're spending almost every waking moment out side of work together. We could probably save a ton of money moving in together." She was right about that one. "How about this? Why don't we get married?" To make a long story short, I proposed, she accepted. She had a ton of friends and had three bridal showers and two bachelorette parties. Her new friends at work threw her a small bachelorette party but the people she grew up and went to school with threw her a huge bash at one of the local watering holes. "Don't wait up for me because I know I'm going to be late," she said putting her outfit together. "Maybe I should wait up, how about if you're too drunk to drive?" "Ann is driving tonight because they told me that we're going to be partying until the sun comes up." And they did just that. I finally fell asleep at just after twelve and when I woke up at four o'clock she still wasn't home. I got up at seven to use the bathroom and found a semi-clad Jean in the bed next to me. She didn't move until sometime after two in the afternoon. "You alive?" I asked when she finally got up. "Not sure, I think I am," she moaned. "You must have had a great time by the looks of you." She raised her head slightly and told me not to talk so loud and then went racing towards the bathroom. I think I saw a lung and kidney in there before she flushed. Two days later she was almost her old self again. We had a small ceremony three weeks later with about fifty people, mostly close friends and family. Even though we'd done it before we got married, I think she tried to wear it out the first couple of weeks after our wedding and honeymoon. I wasn't at all surprised when she came up pregnant, though she sure was. I had found an empty box from a test kit in the trash the week of our wedding but no test stick. Condoms weren't a hundred percent foolproof, after all. Was I pissed? Hell no! I was glowing at the prospect of becoming a father. Like any good expectant dad I did the Lamaze classes and was in the delivery room when April was born. She was the type of baby dreams are made of. She slept all night, hardly ever cried, and was almost never fussy. As I said, she was the kind of baby mothers dreamed about having. I read to her every night from the first day we brought her home from the hospital. I didn't matter that she couldn't understand a word I was saying—it just brought me closer to her. Jean didn't mind either when I took over the night feedings or when I changed her dirty diapers but drew the line when I tried to help at breast-feeding. I found out playing with her other breast while she was feeding April was no help at all. We had done it a couple of times a week almost all the way up until April's birth. Even though most of the time our sex was pretty vanilla, every once in a while Jean would let me get a little crazy especially after she had a few drinks. After two glasses of wine, a blindfold, or tying her hands to the headboard were okay with her and more than a few hot outfits kept our sex life fresh. When I told her that I was considering writing a book for children she was totally supportive. Even though I was stuck behind the computer for hours for several months she continued to encourage me. Finally I finished my book after many months. Jean read it and said it sounded good to her. I, on the other hand, thought it should be considered for a Newberry. I found out soon enough I was no Hemmingway. Microsoft Word didn't catch even a third of my mistakes. Most were so flagrant that I felt like an idiot after submitting it to a publishing company and having them tell me to at least clean up the spelling and grammatical errors. I paid two of my smartest high school students fifty bucks each to go through it at least twice. I resubmitted it and to my surprise they said with work it was good enough to publish. What did they mean with work? That's when I was introduced to Rhonda. Thank God it didn't cost me anything because Rhonda must have spent a month redoing this or that in my story. I thought it sounded good before, but after she was done with it, it sounded great. It was a short book and I didn't make a hell of a lot of money from it, but it was a start. They said I had potential and were willing to work with me on my next two books. They permanently assigned Rhonda to edit my material. So began my downfall. "How's the story progressing?" my wife asked me one night at dinner. "Okay, I guess, but it's coming a lot harder and slower than the last one. I just hope I didn't have just one book in me." "You know, it wouldn't be the end of the world either, would it? You work hard all day at school and deserve some down time, don't you think?" My wife really was a gem. "Well, if you're not too tired, how about a little fun tonight. Maybe I can give you a few things to write about," she said, starting to unbutton her top. "It's a kid's story, but then again maybe I'll write a story about a wife who seduces her husband and gives him a night of wild sex." I started chasing her around the kitchen table. "Easy tiger," she said. "Right now I need to get April ready for bed. Why don't you pick a short book this evening to read to her. I have a feeling we're going to be doing a lot of research later for your next story." We had a great night of lovemaking. After kissing April goodnight and turning off the light I found my wife lying on the bed. She was wearing something pink that covered basically nothing. Within five minutes it was on the floor and Jean was straddling my waist. I did my best to hold her upright as she rode me. For the first time in a long time we did it twice. The first time was raw passion and the second was gentle loving. When I asked if she was up to once more she just kissed me and said, "Not in your wildest dreams. You should be satisfied with what you have." I was, but figured it couldn't hurt to try for more. When I was far enough along with my next story I made an appointment to meet with Rhonda at my house shortly after four o'clock in the afternoon. The kids were dismissed from school at three and I normally was home by four. I got my first three chapters ready and glanced over them once more to see if I could see any obvious mistakes. It seems my big problem was that when I read my own work I wasn't reading what was on the paper, more so what I thought I had written. So much for me being my own editor. Rhonda was at least five foot nine. She didn't have to look up at my five foot eleven inch frame to look me right in the eye. We sat at the kitchen table, Rhonda glancing at the pages making notes. That's when I first started noticing or should I say studying her. She wasn't bony but didn't have extra ounce of fat on her bones. She had large brown eyes that were set quite far apart on her face. Taking a guess, I gauged her age to be about thirty but I could have been five years off one way or another. Then it hit me. It was the one thing that drove me nuts whenever we were together and eventually doomed my marriage—it was her scent. I really noticed it on her second trip. We were going over a few changes she'd made and we were almost close enough to touch. It was a little warm, though not hot enough to sweat. I don't know if it was her perfume or what, but it smelled wonderful. I found myself inhaling deeply whenever she moved in close. What the hell could it be? It was sweet but had a heavy musky sharpness to it. I almost asked what she was wearing but I figured that was too personal a question. After going over the first three chapters we briefly looked over the next four before Rhonda said that she had to leave. "Your work is very new and refreshing," Rhonda told me, and began putting everything into her briefcase. "However, you're starting to repeat certain word more than once in a paragraph. Use dictionary.com for other words that may also be acceptable. You're still new at this and have a lot to learn but you have a future if you can stick with it." I thanked her and showed her out. I sat at that damn table taking deep breathes inhaling what she'd left in my kitchen. When Jean came home about twenty minutes later she said that it smelled musty in the kitchen. Then she sprayed Lysol to get rid of the smell I'd been enjoying. So our monthly meetings went. By chapter fourteen I'd turned up the temperature in the house by two to three degrees. I always had a cold beverage but was now lounging in shorts, a tee shirt, and flip-flops. I also noticed that Rhonda's dress became more casual also with shorts, sandals, and a lightweight top. Finally I had to ask, "What is that wonderful perfume you're wearing?" "Steve, I'm not wearing any perfume. For some reason most perfumes don't smell very good on me." "Well, then it must be your deodorant," I said with a little laugh. Then she shocked me. "Nope, it can't be that either since I never wear any. I hardly ever sweat and I hate to clog my pores up with any chemicals." She smiled. "Well, Rhonda, if you don't mind me saying it, you should bottle your essence because you always smell fantastic." I was going to say erotic but didn't want to push it. I didn't need a sexual harassment lawsuit on my hands, but she did smile. We sat next to each other through all twenty-four chapters and went from diet soda to glasses of wine during our proof reading sessions. I was developing a great set of lungs as I continued to drink in her essence. It was when I started thinking about what she'd taste like, that I got myself into trouble. It started with a casual hug and then a kiss on the cheek. When we finished my first draft I told her I was taking her out to dinner, with my wife of course. When Jean couldn't get a sitter on such a sort notice she told the two of us to go ahead without her. "You sure hon? Maybe we can drop April off at my parents or yours." "Don't be silly. You two are probably going to talk shop anyway and a night alone in a hot bath is what I'm planning." We kissed and after I changed clothes Rhonda and I headed out. I was the perfect gentleman throughout the whole evening until she suggested a dance after dinner. It was a slow song and I had a hard on like you wouldn't believe. I held her close, closed my eyes, and for the first time I didn't think about Jean. She pulled me in tight I about lost it when she smiled and licked my ear. "Is little old me doing that to you, Steve?" she toyed with me. She moved one of her legs between mine, and we were now almost screwing on the dance floor. When she reached her hand down and gave it a squeeze, it was all I could do to not shoot off. I knew I was in trouble. We ended up in her room and I finally got to taste what I had been smelling for the last couple of months. I think I licked every square inch of her body as I drove her over the edge at least twice. Wrapping her legs almost around her head, Rhonda told me to pick a hole and to play with the other. I started with her pussy but ended up shooting in her ass while playing with her clit. One more oral session, a long shower, and I was on my way home. You know, I didn't even think about what I'd done until late the next day. I must have still been up in the clouds somewhere remembering every second I'd spent with her, then I crashed big time. A text message saying what a wonderful time she'd had only added to my shame. What the hell was I doing? People got divorced for what I had done last night. I promised myself it would never happen again, but it did. School was shut down the week of Thanksgiving. Rhonda asked if I had finished the last two chapters and Table of Contents because her boss was trying to get it ready to go print just after the first of the year. "I'm done with everything but haven't gone over the last grouping more than once." "Well, why don't I come up on Wednesday and we can finish the last two chapters, review the rest, and send it off to the office from your place. This way I'll get paid, you won't have to worry about it anymore and can have a relaxing holiday." It sounded good to me. Thankfully she didn't mention what had taken place between us the last time. At dinner I gave Jean the good news. "A week from Wednesday the book will be put to bed. We'll have a relaxing Thanksgiving and Christmas with a few extra bucks to spend this year. I was making a couple of thousand dollars as a base and extra if the book sold over so many copies, which the first one should eventually do. I didn't want to get Jean's hopes up so I just told her the five thousand I was going to receive would be it. We started at just before nine o'clock in the morning and Rhonda really pushed it the first couple of hours. We made very few changes and shortly before one thirty it was done. "Steve, I need to use your bathroom," Rhonda said getting up from her seat and stretching. "It's down the hall on the right," I told her feeling pretty good about finally finishing my book. I watched her walk down the hall and started putting the book back together again. I never even heard her come back. I think it's time we celebrated, don't you?" I heard her say behind me. I turned around and my mouth dropped. She didn't have a stitch on. "I started to say, "Rhonda, I can't do this," but she covered my mouth before I could get it all out. She was all ready working on me before I knew it and I was coating the inside of her mouth before my brain finally caught up with what was happening. Lips, tongues, fingers, were all in play for the next couple of hours. I licked and ate her shaved pussy while she talked dirty to me. "You know what that smell is you liked so much is? Well, since I hate to drive I spend those two hours playing erotic cd tapes and play with myself with my vibrator. I would turn it on low, slip it in and could usually get off a couple of times before I got here. It's nowhere near as good as that talented tongue of yours, but in a pinch it works. So, what you smelled on me was sex, pure and simple. I never realized that I smelled that strong until I saw how nuts it was driving you. I thought I'd be wearing you like a second skin you were getting so close to me," she said pulling her own lips apart as I lapped at her pussy. I was right about one thing—she tasted as sweet as she smelled. The second time she climaxed over my face she cried out, "No more." She was getting sore and so was my tongue. We never even screwed this time. We took a shower together and within a half hour she was ready to leave. We kissed at the door and Rhonda told me to let her know when I started my next book. I washed my face once more, sprayed the room with Lysol and opened a few windows to air the place out. We exchanged a few texts back and forth and I told her there would be no repeat of our last time together. I told her that it had been memorable but that I loved my wife and didn't want to screw up my marriage anymore than I'd all ready done. She said she understood. It was just after the first of the year. I was working in the garage when the text message came through on my phone that was sitting on the kitchen counter. Jean was fixing April's lunch when the beep went off. Without thinking anything about it, she picked up the phone, read the message and in a New York minute my life and marriage ended. There was so much screaming and crying for the next three hours I never had time to catch my breath. I'd like to say I was politely asked to leave but what really happened was for my own safety I packed a bag and went to a motel along with the cell phone that had ended my happy life. "Just wondering if you had started your next book? Missing that golden tongue of yours. Don't think my pussy will ever be the same," was the text from Rhonda that ended it all. I spent the next two months begging, pleading, and crying but to no avail. I was a louse, a cheating bastard, and Jean wanted nothing more to do with me. I asked for a second chance. I begged her to go to couples counseling. I pleaded and crawled on my knees saying I'd do anything and I did mean anything to get her back. Nothing worked. I was served. The reason was spelled out in capital letters, ADULTRY. No One Won I found a small apartment close to the high school where I worked. I figured I had ninety days to try to talk her out of it. Her father got Jean a good lawyer, hell, he was great lawyer compared to what I had which was basically none. It was my own damn fault I got screwed as much as I did. I never even looked at the paperwork. I was trying everything on earth to stop it and thought in my own warped mind I still had a slight chance. When Jean took out a restraining order because I kept showing up at our house at all hours of the night, I should have come to grips with my life, but I didn't. I fucked up. I said I would change, I promised to never do it again. Jean was having none of it. "I never want to see your cheating face ever again," is how she phrased it. "I'm going to make it my mission in life to make your life hell, do you hear me?" she screamed at me during our final hearing. It was over and I died inside that day. Even though ours is a no fault state, adultery, and having a minor child weighed heavily on how it all came down. Everything was split fifty/fifty. She was allowed to stay in the house with April until April turned 18. I was ordered to pay child support, alimony, medical benefits, the house payment, and have a life insurance policy naming April as the beneficiary. I was to get only supervised visitation because of the restraining order. Jean kept her promise and did everything in her power to make my life hell. '******************** "How could he do it, to me of all people?" Jean screamed to herself bouncing from room to room in what use to be their happy home. She thought her life with Steve was perfect and then he went and fucked it all up with some slut. Jean remembered she planned her marriage after the first month they dated. Her boyfriend Dennis had been a control freak and Jean realized early on she could never say no to him no matter what he asked for and he knew it. With Steve's help she was able to break free and vowed to herself never be a submissive or let a man take advantage of her again. Jean knew from the get go that Steve and she were made for each other. They had the same likes and dislikes. Jean had put every fiber of her soul into her marriage. She was so angry because there he went and threw it all away. Her dad and mom tried to convince her to give Steve another chance and at one point she even considered it, and then she thought about Dennis. Jean had let him have complete control over her and she was sure if she gave into Steve, she would be giving him the same power she had given Dennis. She couldn't do that or go through that ever again, no matter what the cost. So Jean let her anger and hatred rule her life. She decided Steve was going to pay for putting her through this pain. She would do whatever she had to do to rip his life apart like he had hers. '*********************** Our friends became her friends, after all who wanted to be associated with a low life cheater. She contacted the school board and the school I worked at, all my friends, my family, and everyone I'd ever met in my entire life to tell them what a despicable person I was. I wasn't broke by the time she got done with me but close. That's when I started to drink, what else was there? A little self-pity went a long way. I drank after work and spent most of my weekends in my place passed out. It got so bad I couldn't function without a drink or two in the morning before work. I don't even remember my first Christmas after the divorce. I was supposed to spend it with my family but I never quite made it. Thank God, for the holidays, it gave me that much more time to fuck up my life. I still got to see April, when I wasn't too drunk to drive or wasn't passed out on my bed. Jean told me to either straighten up or she wouldn't let me see April anymore. I didn't care, probably was too polluted to care. Within two and a half years I'd gone from being happy-go-lucky husband to a walking alcoholic who was one more warning away from losing his job and teaching certificate. With the exception on my mother, my entire family wrote me off as a miserable low life drunk. When she listened to my many tales of woe about how I'd fucked up my life she would try to lift my spirits by telling me that I was still alive and had a beautiful daughter to consider. I know she meant well but I had taken the last step over the cliff and was just waiting to land on the rocks below. Then, within the period of six months two big things occurred that changed my life drastically and for once the better. Like every Friday night since I can remember I was fucked up as usual. I started drinking right after work and when they stopped serving me at one place I headed over to another. The inside of my car looked like a trash dump. I was grabbing for something on the seat when it happened. One minute I was going straight down the road the next thing I knew I was going over an embankment and down a hill into a ravine. Did I have my seatbelt on? Hell, I hadn't worn one of those in forever hoping I would kill myself and put myself out of my own misery. Well, anyway, I was flopping around inside the car when it finally stopped up against a large oak tree. My whole body slammed up against the windshield and steering wheel. The pain was what finally brought me back around. I hurt all over and could feel the warm blood on my face. I was bleeding from my face or head, possibly even both. It was still dark, but at least there was a moon out. My power windows wouldn't work. Thankfully, my driver's side window was more than three quarters of the way down. When you don't eat much and just mainly drink, you lose a lot of weight, which worked out well for me in this case. It took me a long time to get my sorry ass out that damn window and during the process I realized I was hurt in more than a few places, it felt like my whole body had been run over by a Mack truck. I crawled up the hill on my hands and knees and by the time I could see the road it was starting to get light. I tried to stand up, realizing that my left leg was one of my problem areas. I kept dragging myself towards the road. I don't have a clue how long I lay there before I saw the first car. I raised up my hand but it drove on by. "Bastard," I said pulling myself even more into the road. The next car almost hit me but swerved at the last minute to avoid actually running me over. I had nothing left at this point. "Just fucking do it, hit me, you son of a bitch," I thought, watching the next pair of headlights coming down the road. They must have stopped or at least phoned someone to get my mangled butt out of the road. I saw lights, heard voices, and passed out. I remember nothing of what happened after that until the next thing I knew people started hurting me while I tried to fight them off. Then it all went quiet again—I think I died. "Mr. Moore, can you hear me?" I heard the voice say bringing me back from heaven. A light in my eyes made me shake my head from side to side before realizing my hands and feet were restrained. "Why the fuck am I tied down?" I yelled pulling at the restraints. "For that exact reason," the man in the white suit told me. "Simmer down and I'll take them off or keep it up and I'll leave you here with them on. Your choice." I stopped struggling. "That's better," he said releasing my arms. "Go easy, your left leg is pretty banged up and you're going to be walking with a cane for a while." With both eyes now open I looked around. I was in a hospital room somewhere, and the worst thing about it—I was stone cold sober. "Doc, can you give me something for the pain?" "Not just yet but very soon. To answer your next question, County General and it's Sunday morning. We called the number in your wallet. Your mother will be here shortly. Some woman named Jean hung up on me last night but gave me the number before doing so." "Fucking bitch," I said under my breath. "You could have killed someone," my mother yelled at me as soon as she walked into my room. "How many times have I told you not to drink and drive?" I just shook my head because I'd heard it all before. "I'm done. You hear me? I'm washing my hands of you and your life. Kill yourself if you must but please don't take anyone down with you. If you want, I'll have your father drop off his shotgun at your apartment. At least do it in the bath tub so it'll be easier to clean up after." She looked at me once more and walked out. "Wow, that was cold," the doctor said. "Good advice but cold, anyway." He left also. I got discharged that afternoon. Cuts, bruises, a sprained knee, and a few stitches are what I had to show for all my effort. I caught a cab home and hobbled up to my second floor apartment. I had been given a few pain pills and washed down the first two with a swallow of vodka. Sitting at the kitchen table I looked around at my humble abode. What a pigsty. It looked like someone had taken everything I owned put it in a box, shook it up, and dumped it back on the floor. What's that saying? 'When you hit rock bottom you can only go up?' Well, I'd finally hit it and in record time I might add. The next week was tough and I'm not even talking about my physical injuries, which were starting to heal. I got no sympathy from anyone including my students. 'The drunk got what he deserved' was the general consensus. The worst part about it, I was sober and the world didn't look all that rosy. I couldn't stay home because I'd used up all my personal and sick days nursing hangovers. So, if I wanted to get paid I had to work. Hell, if I missed anymore time I would have been fired, anyway. Therefore, I got up, got dressed, took a cab to work, and one home. I could forget about asking anyone to give me a ride. I was still the worthless cheating drunk and most of the other teachers wanted nothing to do with me. Hell is the only way to describe the next month. A person's body isn't made to go cold turkey and I had neither the time nor money to go through rehab. I sucked it up and sweated blood twenty-four hours a day, or at least when I was awake. Through all this Jean rode my ass because the only way I could get April was in a cab and my family still wanted nothing more to do with me. I struggled with it alone. On the good side, I no longer had supervised visits. April was a kid and got used to me not being around too fast for my comfort. When she told me some of the things her mother would say about me I'd cringe. The worst thing about it, most of them were true. In spite of everything I made an effort to see her every other week. Jean was going out of town and it was my weekend to have April. She said that she had dropped off April at her parents' house and I could get her from there. "Try to stay sober for once," were her last words to me. I'd had a good relationship with her parents, Connie and David, up until Rhonda, and they didn't fault their daughter for divorcing me. The only harsh words expressed by David was when he said he was disappointed in me. He thought I had a stronger moral character. That hurt more than any yelling he could have done. I was running behind and called David to say that I would be an hour or so late. Being as nice as he always was, David said, "Steve, why don't I drop April off at your place and save us both a lot of hassle?" "Thanks David, I'd appreciate it, if it's not too much of an imposition." "No problem, we'll just meet you out front in say, twenty minutes?" I was out on the sidewalk when I saw their car make a right onto my street. I was very confused when they drove right by me, but I did catch a glimpse of Connie grabbing for the wheel. Their car sideswiped two other cars on the right side of the street before plowing into a cab that was waiting for a fare. I was dialing 911 and running towards the car before I even heard the final crash. The paramedics were there in less than five minutes. I rode in one of the two ambulances to the hospital. David had a heart attack and Connie had a broken arm and a few cracked ribs. April had punctured her spleen and needed surgery to repair the damage. I told the doctor to take as much blood from me that he needed for my little girl. As soon as I'd gotten to the hospital I called Jean and told her what happened. I gave her an hour-to-hour update until she arrived later that night. When the doctor came out and said that April was doing fine and was out of danger what a felt was beyond relief. I said that if she needed more blood I still had another two quarts. "Mr. Moore, we couldn't use your blood because it wasn't a match for April," he said looking at me. All right, that made no sense. "What do you mean not a match?" He pulled me into his office. "Mr. Moore, have you ever had a DNA test done on yourself?" I was getting even more confused. "Why in the hell would I need a DNA test done on me? Is there something wrong with my blood?" He said something about RH positive and negative but I wasn't following what he was talking about. "There isn't an easy way to say this," he said looking at me. "Are you by any chance April's stepdad or was she adopted?" he went on to ask. "No, April is my child, I am her natural father." "Just to be a hundred percent sure, I need to do this." He took out a cotton swap, swishing it around the inside of my mouth. "What was that for?" "I took one from April and will do a DNA match on the two of you. Mr. Moore, I may be wrong, but I don't think you are the biological father of April. I will have the test results in about five days to confirm if what I suspect is true." I left the room and went to see April before walking out the door of the hospital. I cried that night then I got angry all over again. Those five days were hell. After work everyday I would stop by to see how April was doing. She was going to be discharged by the end of the week. I even made it a point to stop in to see Jean's dad, David. "If you had your damn license none of this would have happened," Jean snapped at me when I walked into David's room to see him before I left the hospital. "You make me sick, you fucking loser," she yelled at me while her father told her to hold it down. "Why should I? If he'd kept his dick in his pants we wouldn't be where we are right now." There was still no forgiveness in her voice. I told David I hoped he felt better and to get well soon. I turned to leave. I couldn't get out of the room quickly enough to get away from Jean's vicious acrimony. Five days later I was in the hospital looking at a piece of paper that would change my life for both the better and worse. April was sleeping when I went into her room. I didn't disturb her but before leaving I gave her a kiss on the forehead. "What the hell do you want?" was the greeting I received from Jean when I walked into David's room. "I thought you'd be here," I said handing her a copy of what I was holding. "What the hell is this?" "It, my dear Jean, is the hand of God." "Steve, what the hell are you talking about?" "Let me explain it so even your trite little mind can understand." That pissed her off even more but she shut up for once. "That paper shows that I'm not the biological father of April, you fucking tramp," I said raising my voice at the last part. "Who is April's father, Jean? Or don't you even know for sure?" "Steve, there must be some kind of mistake," David said. "No mistake. The doctor did a DNA test on the two of us. When were you going to tell me April wasn't mine? Or were you ever going to?" "This proves nothing, you're still a fucking cheater," she spit back at me. "Now look who's calling the kettle black." "So what? So you're not April's father, who the fuck cares. You were never much of a father to her anyway." "Jean, shut your damn mouth for a change, will you?" David yelled at his daughter. "David, I would stay out of this because it's going to get ugly really fast. Jean if you would have just divorced me and let it go at that, I would have been unhappy but could have lived with it. But, you had to do everything in the world to make my life hell and now I'm going to get back my pound of flesh if it takes every penny I can beg, borrow, and steal. You're going to dread the day you ever laid eyes on me, do you understand, Jean?" I think she was starting to get the picture. "What do they say at church? Vengeance is mine said the Lord? Well, the wrath of God is going to come down on your ass and I'm going to enjoy every fucking minute of it." "Steve, I need to explain," Jean started to say. "Save it, you'll have more than enough chances by the time I'm done with you." I smiled for the first time in years. "Steve, don't do this. Think of April," David said. I turned towards him, gave a shrug and said, "You should be talking to someone who gives a shit, because I don't." With that, I hobbled out of his room this time with my head held high. My gonads grew a whole size by the time I got into the cab. I found the meanest mother fucking lawyer money could buy. I think he would sell his sister to a brothel if he thought it would help him win a case. He was salivating by the time I finished telling him my story. "Well, do I have a case against my ex?" "Steve, first question, how far do you want to take this?" "I don't understand?" I replied. "It's a simple question, how far do you want to take this? It's going to get ugly if you don't bind my hands." "I want her to pay and suffer the way she'd made me suffer for the last two and a half years." "That's all I wanted to hear. You know it's going to cost you up front, but I'll make sure you get back every penny." Looks like he was also going to make sure he got his money no matter who won or got hurt. We talked for another hour, he gave me a list of things to get for him and I was out of there for at least the time being. Two weeks was all it took to put everything on paper. I think he was as excited about this case as I was. "The first thing we've got to get is an annulment of your marriage. April was born a little over eight and a half months after you got married. In other words, Jean was pregnant with another guy's kid when the two of you got married. The DNA report, your sworn testimony that you were using protection when having sex with Jean, April's birth certificate, and your signed marriage license are all nails in her coffin so to speak. I've already sent the papers out to the church you got married in and to the head of the local archdiocese. With as much evidence as we've got, there is no way they're going to turn you down." "How long do you think that will take?" "If I push the issue, probably a little over a month. Normally it takes three to six months." Jean's parents still attended that church and it would probably be all out in the open before it even became final. My skin got another eighth of an inch thicker. "Then where do we go from there?" "If there was no marriage, there can be no divorce. We're going to be going after the alimony, child support, and the house because it's basically still half yours. After we get the annulment if I were you, I'd move back into it especially since you're making the payments." "When can we get this all started?" I was getting more and more anxious. "As soon as you sign these papers it'll all be in motion." I signed with a huge smile on my face. My lawyer continued, "I forgot to mention. I charging Jean with fraud and going after April's real father for back child support. Per your information I guess her ex boyfriend Dennis is our logical choice but I've asked her to disclose the father if it's not him. I found out that Dennis is now married so I think his new wife is not going to be thrilled with him when he's ordered to give a DNA sample. Anything else you want?" No One Won "Nothing that I can think of right now, but I'll probably come up with a couple of things in the next week or so. I think you have covered all the bases." "Steve, that's what you're paying me for." God, I think Robert would eat his first born, that is if he could ever find someone dumb enough to marry him. "Steve, what the hell are you doing?" a frantic Jean asked. I told her that she could talk to my attorney, before hanging up on her. She called twice more and I hung up on her both times. Next my mother started in on me. "Steve, I just got off the phone with David and Connie. Are you trying to annul your marriage?" "What marriage? Jean was pregnant with someone else's kid when she suckered me into marrying her. April isn't mine. I guess I'm not the only asshole here and besides why do you care? Aren't you the one who said that you didn't want to have anything more to do with me?" "Steve, honey, that was before when you were drinking all the time." "And don't forget when I was a cheating bastard." "Let's not do this now," my mother requested. "I cheated on Jean, I apologized, begged her to forgive me, she told me to go fuck myself and did everything in her power to make my life a living hell. And you, my precious mother, sided with her. Now, it comes out that Jean wasn't as lily white as everyone thought. She was a fucking slut who pawned someone else's bastard kid off on me and let me think it was my own all these years. Am I angry? Hell, yes! So please stay the hell out of my life and let me fuck it up on my own if I want to," I hung up on my own mother. Damn, that felt good. There hadn't been an annulment in the diocese ever but even the bishop couldn't dispute the facts. Jean had lied and entered into the marriage fully knowing that the child she was carrying wasn't her finance's. He recommended to the cardinal that it be granted and in a little more than a month the Catholic Church awarded me my annulment, which signified there was never was a marriage in the eyes of God. "Steve, with that out of the way, we can proceed with the second step which is to overturn your divorce and make you whole again. "Robert, no matter how this ends up, I'll never be whole again," I was sure of that. With all the documentation a suit was filed with the court to overturn the divorce, stop and reclaim the alimony and child support monies, and in addition seek compensation from the biological father for all the years of financial support I had given to April. I was also charging Jean with willfully entering into a fraudulent contract. It was going to get ugly all over again but this time I wasn't the emotional cripple I was the last time. I was happy that Jean chose the same lawyer she had used last time. I had a score to settle with him also. Robert and I were having a drink after everything had been filed with the court. "Steve, you seem to be a nice guy who got taken for a ride last time, but if you go through this, you're probably going to hate yourself down the road." "I hate myself now, so what's the big deal. I cheated, admitted it, and paid the price ten fold. That bitch of a wife knew April wasn't mine and if she had just come clean at that point we probably could have worked it out. I'm not saying it would have been easy, but the way I was feeling at the time, I would have forgiven anything to get her back. Do you know what it's like to have everything one minute and nothing the next? I drank to kill the pain but no matter how much I drank it was still there. So, now I'm sober and the pain is still there and it's time to make it go away. It may cost me everything to get rid of it, but I can't go on the way I am. Does that make any sense to you?" "I guess in a weird way it does but you know you're never going to be able to undo this once it starts." I knew that but it was a lot better than my dad's shotgun. *********************** "He can't be serious, look at all these charges," Jean said talking to her lawyer. Her father looked over her shoulder at the legal document his distraught daughter held in her shaking hands. "I hate to say this, he's got a very strong case and will probably win. Have you tried to talk to him about this? You know, reason with him?" "He just says to talk to his lawyer and keeps hanging up on me. I can't believe he's being so vindictive." "I can," her dad spoke up. "You did everything you could to bring him down short of cutting his nuts off and you probably would have gone for those if you could have." "That bastard cheated on me!" she screamed. "And what the fuck did you do to him? You got knocked up and stuck him with someone else's kid to raise. What the hell do you think he's was going to do when he found out? He's going to come at you with everything and try to take you down the way you took him down. But, you've got more to loose than he does this time. You were the poor little wife and mother last time. This time you'll be the deceitful cheating slut." "Jean, listen to your father, he knows what he's talking about." "I may lose, but he's never going to see April again. Never do you hear me?" she screamed at the two of them. "And who is that going to hurt, Steve? April is not his biological child but April loves him to death. He's the only father she's ever known. Jean you were wrong before and you're wrong now, you just can't see it through all your hate." '********************* Overturning the divorce was a slam-dunk. With the annulment there was no marriage. The alimony was immediately set aside. With the DNA report the child support was suspended and I was given back the rights to my own house. The next couple of points got a little more involved. I wasn't able to recover the child support from Jean, but her ex-boyfriend Dennis was tested and proven to be April's biological father. He wasn't happy about it, neither was his wife. Dennis said that he never had a clue that he'd gotten Jean pregnant. He told the court it happened the night of her bachelorette party. She was drunk, he was drunk and although he didn't totally remember what happened, they must have done it in the back seat of his car. Jean swore and called Dennis a bastard in open court. She was told one more outburst and she would be held in contempt. Dennis was ordered to pay full restitution to me and child support to Jean in the future for April. Fraudulently entering into a contract, namely our marriage contract, was going to be sticky to prove. It could mean jail time for Jean if she was convicted. When the judge asked for a meeting in his chambers I wasn't sure what to expect. "Look, we're all adults here. Steve, you've gotten everything up to this point that you wanted. Why don't we dismiss this last charge and put this case to bed? Because of April, there is no way I'm going to let Jean do any real jail time even if she's convicted," he said looking at everyone in his chamber. I whispered something to my lawyer. "We are willing to drop this charge under certain conditions," my attorney said. "All Jean has to do is call everyone she bad mouthed my client to and tell them that she cheated on him, got pregnant, and passed off someone else's child as his. That's all we're asking in addition to Steve moving back into his home." "I'd sooner rot in hell before I did that," Jean shouted at me while her lawyer tried to calm her down. "Well, Your Honor, than I see no other option other than to proceed with the charges." Jean was seething and ripping me apart piece by piece with her eyes. "It's Thursday, I think we all need a little cooling off period. We'll reconvene back here on Tuesday morning at nine o'clock. I hope all parties' use this time to work out an equitable compromise or I am going to be forced to proceed and I don't think anyone will gain from my ultimate decision. However, until that time I do not want Mr. Moore moving back into his prior residence. Is that understood?" I nodded. Jean smiled for the first time. With that we filed out of his chambers. "We will get back with you on our list of compromises," my attorney told Jean's attorney. "However, if she's not willing to bend, we are going to go for the maximum sentence and I don't think either of us wants that." That afternoon Robert and I made our lists of demands. "I want her to call my twelve ex-friends and the three top administrators at my school," I told him. "And also I want to see April every other weekend." "That is going to be a tough one after all that's happened." "I still care for her even though I hate her mother." "She will try to block that one and we may have to get a child psychologist in to prove to the court the strength of the bond the two of you have established. Up until recently, you were the only father she has ever know and I don't think Dennis is going to bend over backwards to establish a relationship with her." He was right about that. "And why do you want to move back into the house anyway?" "I guess for no other reason than to piss off Jean, but at this point I think I just want it gone. Put in that the house is to be sold and the proceeds to be split fifty/fifty even though I've been making the payments on it for the last two and a half years. This way it will show I'm giving in somewhat." That was about everything I wanted. Robert e-mailed them over to Jean's attorney and I spent the weekend relaxing and healing and doing both sober. It was somewhere around two in the morning on Monday and I should have been asleep. For the last two hours or so I had been lying on my bed staring at my laptop. More than once over the last two years I had thought about stomping it into oblivion, but I was usually too drunk to stand much less do any damage to anything but myself. If I'd never written that book, I would have never have met Rhonda and I would have never cheated, I told myself over and over. But sober, in the dark, I knew that wasn't entirely true. I had done it because I could. She never forced herself on me. I was willingly led to slaughter by my own weakness. Jean was everything I had ever wanted and forgetting about what she did with April, she was a great wife and mother. If it wasn't for that freak accident and me being there, I never would have know about April and none of this would be happening. I had no one to blame but myself. Both books were still selling and all the royalties were being put into an escrow account. I still owed them one more book on my contract, but I hadn't heard from them in over a year, after we had a couple of drunken conversations. I flipped up the lid on my Apple laptop, turned it on and looked at the backlit keyboard. I typed for about two to three hours before stopping. I showered, shaved, grabbed a cab, and went to work. "Drop everything but the sale of the house and me being able to see April. Tell them they can stay there until it sells and I'll still pay the mortgage." "You sure about this?" "I just want it over and done with. I don't have the stomach for it any longer." I never showed up for court on Tuesday. The last charge was dropped, the judge gave his final ruling—case closed. My family tried to call but I wasn't quite ready for them. Through my attorney, Jean sent me a message thanking me for finally being human. I guess that was her way of saying thanks. I never responded, what was the point. I bought a ten-year-old Chevy. When the house sold I purchased a small condo and for once life was looking up again. Jean let me see April every week and I spent the next six months trying to undo the damage I had done to our relationship. It wasn't easy and we're not quite there yet but at least I'm trying. I'm staying busy and drinking way too much coffee, well that's what my dentist is telling me anyway. One night out of the blue Rhonda texted me that she was sorry. I just replied back that I was too and let it go at that. But I stayed busy—it was the only way I could heal. *************** It was just after six before Jean got home from work. It had been a miserable day and all she wanted to do was take her shoes off and relax. She waved to a neighbor as she walked down the driveway to the mailbox wondering what new bill she'd find in there today. It was full, not with bills or junk mail but a large brown package crammed inside, taking up about seventy- five percent of the available room. With no return address visible, Jean stuck it under her arm and continued to look at the rest of the mail while slowly walking back up to the house. She threw everything on the counter, went over to the refrigerator and got out the cold bottle of white wine. After pouring a glass she sat down at the counter and put her feet up on one of the other chairs. After a sip or two of the wine she continued looking at the mail. Junk, junk, junk, a bill, and a political advertisement, that was about it. Grabbing the package she looked again for some type of address before pulling the nylon tab to open it. She was standing, leaning up against the counter when April barged in through the front door asking when dinner was going to be ready. Jean never heard her then nor when April walked up and pulled on her dress asking her mom what she was doing. She could see the small wet spots on what her mom was reading and looking up saw that her mom was crying. Tears were flowing down her cheeks and dropping onto the pages from her chin and the tip of her nose. "Mom, are you all right?" April asked more than a little concerned. Jean said nothing to her for a couple more minutes. Jean looked up from what she'd been reading, wiped away what was left of her tears, and gave her daughter a hug. "You know I love you, don't you?" she said kissing her on the cheek. "Mom, you're getting lipstick all over me," April said hugging her back. "And you know your daddy loves you too, don't you?" she nodded and asked again what was for dinner. Right now she had a one-track mind. "Go get washed up and then set the table while I heat up what we had last night," Jean said taking a large gulp of wine and removing from the refrigerator the leftovers of last night's dinner. She must have glanced back at it on the counter ten times before dinner was ready and while they both ate. Jean was quiet only half listening to April's non-stop talking. A little television, a quick bath, and being a school night April was in bed by eight o'clock. Jean took it off the counter, changed into an old pair of pajamas, and with another glass of wine she turned on her bedside light. Arranging two extra pillows behind her head and one under her knees she started again. Like before, tears stained the pages, and she had to stop reading several times to dry her eyes. She had to take a few deep breaths each time before she could continue. It took four more hours and a total of three glasses of wine before she finished it. She made a mental note to call in sick after getting April on the school bus tomorrow morning. With the light still on she finally dozed off and if it weren't for April making as much noise as she did, Jean probably would have slept for another couple of hours. April was already dressed and jumping on her mother's bed asking about breakfast when she noticed it on the bed next to her mom. "What's this," she asked holding it up. "Just a book." "I want eggs and bacon and toast and jelly," April said pulling on her mother's tired body. Within thirty-five minutes she had eaten and was out the door waving back at her mother. With a cup of coffee Jean headed back up to her bedroom. "Carol, I can't make it in this morning. I'm not feeling too well. I think I'll just spend the day in bed. See you tomorrow," she said hanging up. With the cup of coffee on the night table she picked it back up and read the cover to herself. "No One Won." On the inside cover flap all it said was, " This book is dedicated to the beautiful family I once had and lost." This brought another tear to her eye as she read the first paragraph for the second time. "It was no ones fault but my own. Maybe if I'd been a better man I wouldn't have done what I did. I had it all, a loving wife, a daughter who thought the world of me, and a marriage made in heaven. But then I threw it all away because I was a weak and stupid man. I'm a lot stronger now, but all alone typing on this damn keyboard hoping to touch at least one man out there so he doesn't make the same mistake I did. It all started with my book 'The Man in the Tree.' I suppose that if I hadn't written it, I still might be married, but I did and I'm not. I knew as soon as I met her, that she was someone special and after our first date we would be together forever.... She read it again, not crying as much this time, and agreed with the author— No One Won.