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Getting Back to Square One

By: soldierboy50401



I was in a shitty mood when I wrote this. Although this story takes place in Red River Falls, it has absolutely nothing to do with anything regarding my other stories. I just wanted to write something about a guy getting some self-respect back. This story is pure BTB all the way. If you don't like that kind of story, that's fine; to each, his own. Just move along. If you're just gonna throw hand grenades, just move along. Go be a jerk on someone else's time.

Getting Back to Square One

The lights were off in the entire house and I sat at the kitchen waiting for them to come in. I knew who, I knew what and I knew where. I just didn't know why. Sometimes, it is absolutely amazing that you think you know a person so well that you can finish each other's sentences. And then, something comes out of the clear blue sky, which makes you realize that person was a complete stranger all along. Or perhaps they were someone who was just wearing a mask, hiding their true self from you. Maybe they were just a fraud. Yeah, that's a good word for it. A total fraud.

Either way, it didn't matter. I could try and analyze it all I wanted to but everything that happened did so because of choices; because what matters in the end are the choices we make. She made her choices. My friend made his choices. The problem was that her choices and his choices didn't match up well with my choices. And when I found out about everything going on from a source intimately close to the situation, I decided to make a new choice of my own.

I chose to unleash hell.

My house, I refuse to think of it as our house anymore, was a simple tri-level with a two-stall garage in a fairly comfortable middle-class neighborhood. My name is Tyson Peterson and I happen to be a Sergeant with the Red River Falls Police Department. Technically, I was supposed to be on duty that night. I work from 15:00 to 23:30, which is a shift I rather enjoy. My Lieutenant, Rich Striker, is a pretty cool guy. Our boss, Captain Pete Sturgeon, is hard to read most of the time and he can be a complete dick some of the time. Since Rich was off work today, though, I had to tell my Captain about my little problem. Much to my surprise, Captain Sturgeon actually said he understood and told me to take the rest of the shift off and let him know when my "problem" was taken care of.

And so, there I sat waiting for the proverbial fecal matter to strike the oscillating cooling device; waiting to unleash hell on a couple of people who will be rather surprised to experience it. My only concern was whether I could keep myself from going too far.

I heard the keys insert into the lock of the front door. Suddenly, a man and a woman who had obviously been drinking, stumbled and fell through the doorway, laughing.

"My God, it's dark in here!" my wife exclaimed. "The timer lights should have come on, at least."

"Doesn't matter," the man said. "We're not going to need lights for what we plan on doing!"

I could see their silhouettes merge into one as they embraced and engaged in some heavy kissing. It confirmed what I already knew but I still couldn't keep the acid from pouring into my stomach.

"Oh, God, you don't know how much I look forward to my one trip to Red River Falls each year," the man said. That man was Marty Parker, my former good friend, who lived in Brainerd, Minnesota with his wife Marsha. Marty and Marsha had been friends of Liza and mine for ten years. How in the hell Liza and Marty could do something like this to me and Marsha was beyond me. But there it was, right in front of me and only a few feet away. And in my own damned house!

"I look forward to this, too, Marty. But shouldn't we have gone to your hotel? I mean, Tyson will be home at 11:30. That doesn't give us much time."

"I'm gonna be here for three days, Liza. I'll more than make it up to you the next two nights, I promise!"

"You better," Liza said, pulling him in for a deep kiss. "But before we get started, I'm gonna grab another glass of wine from the kitchen. Want some?" she asked, slipping off her heels.

"What I want is for you to head upstairs to the bedroom and slip on that sexy lingerie I bought you. I'll get the wine. Just tell me where it is."

"Boy, you don't waste time, do you!"

"I didn't get to be successful by fucking off...except when I come to see you!" God, Marty was nauseating.

"Okay, give me a few minutes and I'll call you up! Don't take too long with the wine."

"Not a chance! My cock can't wait much longer! It needs to be in that incredible pussy of yours and soon!"

"And I can't wait to taste that cock of yours in my mouth!"

My heart sank once again. Getting a blowjob from Liza was a novel treat after twelve years of marriage; and a treat I didn't get to enjoy very often. But here she was making it sound like she'd do anything for Marty. I'd always heard that was the ultimate betrayal of an affair; the fact that your spouse does things for a lover that they won't do for you. If I find out Marty ever got to fuck Liza in the ass, I'll break both of their fucking necks!

Marty stumbled towards the kitchen, groping for a light switch along the way. I was standing in the corner of the adjoining dining room, out of the way but where I could still see him as he probed his way into the kitchen. Finally, he found his way to the fridge and took out a bottle of chilled wine. I knew that I hadn't bought any wine recently, which could only mean that Liza had been preparing for this evening.....just as my source said she had.

Marty held the fridge door open to light up the kitchen and seemed to take forever as he looked for glasses. "Hey, Liza?" he finally yelled. "Where are the glasses?"

"Top cupboard, just to the right of the dishwasher," she yelled back.

Marty dutifully grabbed the bottle of wine and managed to find the corkscrew in its drawer. He then grabbed two wine glasses and made his way back to the living room to head for the stairs. As he did so, I could see Liza coming down the stairs towards the living room. She was back lit by the light coming from the hallway and a wave of sadness cascaded over me as I could see how amazing she looked in stockings, garters, see-through crotchless panties that showed off her trimmed bush and pussy, a thin brassiere and some type of see-through top. Normally, I would have thought she looked downright heavenly or amazing. And 99 out of 100 men would have thought so tonight. But not me. Seeing her in that outfit simply brought out the beast mode.

I maneuvered in behind Marty as he stood there with his hands full, taking in the sight of Liza in all her glory. I deftly reached behind the china cabinet and flipped the hidden switch that illuminated the entire living room. Both Marty and Liza were taken aback by the sudden offense to their night vision. Suddenly, Liza realized it was me standing there and let out a blood curdling scream. Marty, still feeling the alcohol, turned dumbly to look behind him just as I brought the full weight of my collapsible baton down on his left leg just behind his kneecap.

Marty collapsed in a pile, suddenly bewildered by my sudden assault, and was too shocked to even scream or yell in pain. He didn't even have time to process the fact that it was me that had struck him. I shoved him forward onto his stomach, just like I would any perp that I was trying to take down and show some tough love to while making an arrest. Liza continued to scream.

"Liza, shut the fuck up!" I yelled. "If you don't stop screaming right this instant, I swear to God I am going to punch you in the face so fucking hard that you'll still be dizzy a year from now, you hear me?"

Liza, to my amazement, stopped screaming immediately and just nodded her head. She was scared shitless and shaking like a leaf. Suddenly, modesty became important, for some reason, and she covered her crotch with her shaking hands.

Marty tried to turn over, still reeling from the pain in his knee.

"Tyson? Is that you? Jesus, man, I --"

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! WHAM! I punched him in the face repeatedly numerous times, shattering his nose and causing blood to spray all over the living room carpet.

"Oh, God, Tyson! Please stop! You'll kill him!" Liza shrieked.

"You just shut the fuck up, if you know what's good for you!"

I stood over Marty's body as I watched him gasp for breath. He was bleeding badly from his nose and from a few broken teeth, but not so profusely that he was in danger of bleeding to death. But we were definitely gonna have to get the carpet cleaned when this was all over with.

"Tyson, please! Enough already!" Liza pleaded.

"I'll decide when enough is enough!"

"Tyson, I swear to God! It's....it's...."

"It's what? Not what it looks like? Are you fucking kidding me, Liza? Are you seriously going to use that fucking cliché on me right now? How the fuck do you think I knew what was going on here tonight if it's not what it looks like? How do you think I knew to be here at this exact moment?"

Liza just stood there, horrified, trying to figure out some way of downplaying the whole scenario. But she had nothing. There was nothing to try and take away what had been going on for three years. THREE...FUCKING...YEARS!!! For three years, Marty made his little three-day business trip to Red River Falls and scheduled it for days he knew I would be working; a schedule he could only get from my lovely wife, Liza.

"Tyson," Marty said, trying to get up and spitting blood as he spoke, "it isn't as bad as it looks, I swear. It's just...a little fantasy, that's all."

"Bullshit, Marty. You can't even remotely sound convincing. Both of you should know that I know the whole truth and nothing but the truth. I knew what was going to go on here tonight and I know what has been going on for the last three years!"

"No, Ty. It isn't like that, man. I swear! This was the first time we were gonna-"

WHAM! I cold-cocked that motherfucker right in the mouth again.

"Do you like getting punched in the fucking face, Marty? Because every time I hear even a hint of a lie or any other bullshit coming out of that mouth of yours, I'm going to do my level best to try and punch my fist all the way down your fucking throat! Do you understand me?"

Marty just held up his hands in defeat as he laid there gasping for breath and trying to grit through the pain from my assault.

"Both of you are lucky I locked my gun in my safe. I really had a strong inclination to shoot you both in your cheating fucking heads."

"How...how much...do you...know?" Marty stammered.

"I think the question you want to ask, Marty, is 'how much do Marsha and I know'?"

Marty laid there and closed his eyes as he realized who had given him away.

"I gotta hand it to your wife, Marty. She's obviously a helluva lot less naïve and not even remotely as stupid as I am. Somehow, she figured out that you were going to be on business (finger quotes) in Red River Falls, the same town where your supposed good friends lived. Marsha wanted to know why you'd schedule a business trip here and not mention anything. Then, apparently she looked at your schedule from last year and figured out you made a trip here back then, too....and never said a fucking word about it."

"I...I never...I mean..."

"Don't even waste your fucking breath, Marty. She was on to you. And she followed through. Apparently, you don't know a whole helluva lot about phone security. Because she was able to get somebody to crack your phone and dig up almost TWENTY-FIVE-FUCKING-THOUSAND text messages between you and my wife going back over three years! Three years of the two of you planning to fuck around behind Marsha's and my back! Three years of you planning to dupe us and humiliate us! Three years of treating us like we were the lowest form of life on earth!"

"No, Tyson," Marty objected. "It was...never like that. We never...wanted to hurt...anyone," he struggled.

"Marty's right, Sweetheart," Liza stammered, quietly sobbing. "We would never intentionally hurt or humiliate either of you! That was never what this was about! It was just an attraction we couldn't control!"

I dropped my arms to my side and menacingly approached my wife, still clutching my police baton in a threatening way, a look of absolute hatred and loathing on my face. Liza could see it. She had never seen that look on my face before.....and she was scared.

"First off," I said softly, "don't ever...ever...EVER...call me sweetheart again! Don't call me lover...or honey...or babe...or any other term of affection, for that matter."

Liza just stood there shaking and nodding her head.

"And secondly, you most certainly did have every intention of hurting and humiliating me."

"No, swee -- er, I mean, Tyson, no!"

"Do you have any idea...what it's like to read a text message...where your wife talks about giving her cheating lover...a fucking blow job...and tells her lover...how she plans to kiss her husband...ME...later on that day...without brushing her fucking teeth? So that she still has the taste of her lover's penis and cum on her lips and breath and tongue when she degrades and humiliates her husband later on that day when he comes home from his ridiculously dangerous job of protecting this town and her citizens? Really, Liza? Do you have any idea...how that makes a man feel? To know that his wife has that little respect for him? After twelve years of marriage?"

Liza looked at me in shock and horror. "Tyson...I mean...how..." and then she collapsed on the stairs in a fit of uncontrollable sobbing.

"Tyson," Marty lisped through his swelling lips and broken teeth. "Come on, man...don't...take it out...on Liza, bro. I'm...the one....you should be...pissed at," he stuttered through the pain.

"Bro? Did you just call me bro? Are you fucking kidding me? Let me paraphrase from a text message you sent Liza earlier today when you talked about how you couldn't wait to fuck Liza in our marital bed so you could claim her pussy as yours. Let me remind you of how you told her that you even wanted to go so far as to fuck her on MY side of the bed so that I would have to sleep in your dried up cum and Liza's cunt juices that very same night! Does that sound very brotherly to you, you fucking asshole???"

Marty just lay there and cowered, looking away from me in his shame. But it was only shame in the fact that he got caught, not the fact that he was fucking his friend's wife in the first place.

"Oh, Tyson," Liza sobbed. "I'm so, so, sorry! I'm so terribly sorry!"

"You know? I can never figure out why it is that people who get caught cheating are so remorseful when they get caught. I can't understand why it is that the idea of getting caught and all the damage it could do to the relationship NEVER crosses their mind while they're getting their fucking rocks off!"

"Wh...what...are you...gonna do...Ty?" Marty stammered, holding a handkerchief to his bleeding face.

I paced the room for a bit, trying to get my thoughts together.

"I'll tell you what's going to happen, Marty," I said, menacingly. "I've been trying to do the math in my head on this, know what I mean? I'm thinking that you've made three previous trips to Red River Falls for the sole purpose of 'conducting business' and fucking my wife. So that's three years and three business trips for a total of nine days, sound about right?"

Marty nodded, looking worried and wondering where I was going with this.

"So," I continued, "you've been here for nine days and hooked up with my wife each day that you were here. Reading over the twenty-five-thousand-plus text messages, I'm going to guesstimate a bit here and assume that you fucked her at least two, maybe three times each day that you were here. After all, you only get here once a year so you're probably going to make the most of it, right? According to your text messages you even got Viagra so you could make sure that you made the most of it! So, that's three days times three fucks per day, which is nine fucks per annual visit, times three previous visits so far."

I walked slowly towards Marty. "So, the way I see it," I said as sinister as I could, "I owe you twenty-seven bloody ass kickings for fucking my wife twenty-seven times!"

"No, Ty," he said, shaking his head vigorously. "It...wasn't that many...I swear...to God!"

"Oh, I'm sure it was at least that many, Marty! Again, don't forget that I have all of your text messages!"

"Fine," Marty said, trying to be defiant. "If you think...kicking my ass... will make up for it...then...you've got me here. Just...finish...what you...started! Just...get it...over with!"

"Oh, you mean, you want me to just beat you within an inch of your worthless, fucking life right here and right now? All in one shot?"

"Yes! I'm never...coming back here...anyway!"

"It really doesn't matter whether you come back here or not, Marty. I owe you and I owe you BIG TIME! I am going to get my pound of flesh from you, one way or the other. As a matter-of-fact, twenty-seven ass kickings will probably take a long time. Just to be generous, I'll lower the amount to just two per day for a total of eighteen. That's only because I'm a nice guy, Marty!"

Marty just looked away from me in despair and shame. Gone was the flamboyant business man who was full of brio and bravado just a short while ago as he was about to plunge his cock into the married pussy of the wife of his so-called friend.

"Another thing, Marty," I said coldly, "you're never going to know when I'm going to show up and kick your ass. I didn't know anything about you showing up in Red River Falls to fuck my wife. So you're never going to know when I might show up in whatever town you happen to be in to beat your fucking ass!"

That got his attention. Marty just looked at me with shock on his face and I could see him gulp in fear.

"You're never gonna know when, you're never gonna know where, you're never gonna know how. But I will find you, Marty. Make no mistake about it. I will find you and I will beat the shit out of you. And I'm going to do this eighteen times. And, if you want to try and fix things with Marsha and your kids, you're going to just suck it up and take it like a man. Don't worry, though. I'm not going to cripple you. You still have a family to provide for. But make no mistake; you will get hurt and you will get the message. Understand?"

Marty just sat there and nodded.

"Now get your bloody, worthless, cheating ass out of my house! And I should warn you, Marty, if I find out in any way, shape or form that you took this beating out on Marsha, I will come find you and I will kill you, Marty. I will bury your body with a shovel and I will bury the fucking shovel! And the only things that will even care that you're gone are the worms that will feast upon your miserable, rotting corpse! Do I make myself clear?"

"What...is there...to stop me...from going to the cops...and telling them...what you did to me...Tyson?"

"I can only say that would be a grave mistake, Marty. And I do mean grave! I happen to be a police officer and most cops I know don't take kindly to the men who cheat with the wives of police officers. Those assholes rank right up there with the fucking douche bags who cheat with the wives of military men who are overseas stuck in the shit fighting for our freedom. I can only say that that would end very badly for you, Marty!"

Marty just looked at me. Then he cast one more glance towards Liza as she sat, still petrified and crying softly, on the stairs. Then he opened the front door, leaving a bloody hand print on the knob and hobbled his way to his Lexus. A couple minutes later, the engine came to life and he drove off. It wouldn't be the last time I'd see him, however.


Getting Back to Square One



I turned and sauntered over towards the stairs where Liza sat.

"Oh, Tyson," she sobbed. "What's going to happen to us? I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "Can't you please forgive me?"

"What's going to happen to us? I'll tell you what's going to happen to us. Nothing is going to happen to us...for the time being."

Liza seemed to perk up a bit when I said that.

"However," I continued, "there are going to be some consequences and some stipulations laid down that you're going to have to follow. And they are going to be consequences and stipulations that you're not going to find very palatable. But if you want to even have a prayer of saving our marriage, you will follow them. Do you understand?"

Liza eagerly nodded her head and wiped her eyes.

"First of all, I want to thank you for being so stubborn in your refusal to ever have children. I can only imagine how devastating this would have been if we had a family."

"I know," Liza said. "I guess I'm grateful for that, too."

"Secondly," I continued, "it would seem that your proclivities involved a lot more adventure with Marty than you ever have with me; so many things that you did with and for Marty that you never did for me."

"I'm sorry, Tyson," she said, hanging her head and sobbing again. "I'm so, so, sorry. I'll do anything you want, Tyson! I swear! Anything! Just ask!"

"First of all, you're going to schedule an appointment with the clinic and get an STD test. I have no idea what Marty has and neither do you. If he's fucking you on his business trips, more than likely he is fucking other women on business trips, too. Obviously, you are never to see or correspond with him in any way, shape or form."

Liza looked up in surprise and shock. She hadn't considered that little detail. Funny how many 'other women' and 'other men' think that they are the only ones their affair partner is cheating with.

"Secondly, and this is the part that will be hard for you, I think it is only fair that since you denied me and went after your own satisfaction for the last three years that I now deny you and go after my own satisfaction."

"Marty, what do you mean? I just told you that I promise to deny you nothing! I'll do anything you ask! I swear it!" she pleaded.

"That's not the point. It is the denial and the cheating and the secrecy. You got to go out and have your fun. Now I want to have some of my own. And, as a test of your resolve to save our marriage, YOU will be the one to help make that happen!"

"Me? What would you want me to do?"

"You, Liza, will seek out women for me. You will do whatever you have to in order to find them and arrange for them to meet me. You will explain to them that I have your full blessing to do anything with them that they and I want to do. And I will do anything with them that I want to and anything that we can think of. And when my dates with them are over I will come home with the taste of their mouths, their pussies and their asses on my lips and I will be sure to kiss you deeply and passionately...before brushing my teeth!"

"No! No, Tyson," she said, shaking her head furiously. "I won't do it! You can't make me do it! I won't share you with another woman!"

"Yes, you will do it. Or I will share with the entire city of Red River Falls how you, the wife of a dedicated police officer, cheated with malice aforethought REPEATEDLY on your dutiful and selfless-serving husband. I will make public every last text message and piece of correspondence between you and Marty. I will make you a fucking PARIAH in this town or whatever town you choose to crawl to if you leave me and Red River Falls. I will make sure the stench of your affair with Marty follows you around like a damned fart in a car! Do I make myself clear?"

Liza just sat there on the stairs - cowering, afraid and sobbing. Finally, she nodded her head yes.

"Good. Now get upstairs and take off that damned lingerie and get your ass to bed. I'll be sleeping in the guest bedroom indefinitely."

Liza slowly and gingerly did as I instructed. She took off the lingerie, grabbed her bathrobe and slowly walked towards the master bath while I took off my uniform and prepared to move some of my things to the guest room. She purposefully did not put on her robe as she walked by me as she knew I would admire her body, as I always have during our marriage. As she walked by me, sniffling, I couldn't help but stare at her ass. I had always been in love with my wife's ass. Suddenly, a pang of anger came over me and I reached out and slapped her hard on her right ass cheek.

She let out a high-pitched yelp as I did so. "What was that for?" she asked, afraid and clutching her bathrobe.

"Just a quick question. The entire time we've been married, your ass has been off-limits to me. Was your ass off limits to Marty, too?"

"Yes, it was, Tyson. I swear. Marty tried to put a finger in there once but I made him quit. I didn't like it and it felt dirty. He licked me there a couple of times, which was okay. But we never had anal sex, if that's what you're asking."

"That is what I'm asking. And, for some strange reason...I actually believe you. But I may make you prove it with a polygraph test someday soon. So I guess if we ever get to the point where our marriage is healed enough for us to have sex again, maybe we have some virgin territory to start from. It could be something to prove that you love me and are serious about making our marriage work."

"I am serious, Tyson," she said, putting the robe on the bed. "I am dead serious! And, if you want me to prove it to you, then you can stick that big dick of yours up my ass right this very minute!"

I stood there looking at her. It was a tempting offer. But as mad as I was right then and there with everything that had happened that night, it was a bad idea. I would have just ripped her cherry ass apart.

"Go take your shower, Liza. Our marriage isn't healed yet, not by a long shot. Take your shower and then get to bed. You've got some work to do tomorrow finding my women."

Liza stood there, disappointed. Then she grabbed her robe, went into the bathroom and closed the door. I noticed she didn't lock it.

*****

ONE YEAR LATER

It has been exactly one year since that fateful night in our house. Some interesting developments have occurred that have led me to this moment. I sat in the living room waiting for Liza to get home from the grocery store. I have since switched from the afternoon shift to the day shift. Not as much excitement on the day shift from 07:00 to 15:30 as there was on my previous shift. But it kept me home more with Liza to see what she was up to. Liza says that she was thrilled as she felt it gave us more time together, even though she struggled from time to time having to go without sex. She whined a little but was pretty quick to shut up before I had to put her in her place and remind her of what got us here.

To her credit, she did exactly as I asked. Liza set up a profile on a married dating site and also a profile on a couple of swinger's sites. What she didn't know is who exactly was responding to those profiles. I made Liza handle all of the correspondence back-and-forth between the would-be sex partners and my profile. She did all of the messaging and I even made her handle the hotel reservations when I went out on my "dates".

Marsha and I continued to correspond, as well. For the sake of their three children, she decided to try and make things work with Marty. I couldn't really fault her for that. As I told Liza, I thanked God that she and I never had kids. That would have made this whole situation exponentially worse.

I found out from Marsha exactly what Marty's business trip schedule was like. The first time I found him was down in Hastings, Nebraska. He was staying at an economy hotel, presumably for anonymity, and I was able to locate him after he got back to the hotel from a local bar. To his credit, he was with his clients and no women. But it didn't keep me from sneaking up on him, slamming him face first into a wall, giving him a knee to the balls, three hard punches to the gut and a vicious elbow smash across his left cheek bone.

I wanted Marty to feel pain. And I wanted him to know if was me without knowing so I wore a ski mask and a hooded sweatshirt. I couldn't risk punching him in the face with my fists as it would certainly lead to telltale bruising if Marty ever pressed charges. So I just gave him a quick three-point beating; head, gut and groin. It was a signature that was repeated in Vermillion, Pierre, Minot and Bismarck. Again, to his credit, he took them all and never pressed charges.

All of that leads to this moment. I sat in my recliner in the living room and watched as Liza brought two bags of groceries into the house. She chattered about this and that and never really made eye contact with me. I assumed that was probably because she was trying to be stoic as she dealt with the idea of me 'dating' other women and wondering when that would end so she could resume her wifely duties. When she finished putting her groceries away, I called her into the living room.

She sat in the sofa opposite my recliner.

"I have something for you," I said as she sat down.

"Really? What is it?"

"I have a letter for you. It's been a year since...well...you know...and I want you to know that it all comes to an end now."

"Oh, thank God, Tyson. If I had to watch you leave for another one of your dates again, I was afraid I was going to absolutely die!"

"Well, you don't have to worry about that anymore."

"Does this mean that we can finally, you know, be intimate again, Tyson?"

"I need you to read this letter first," I said, handing it to her.

"I'm going to do better this time, Tyson, I swear. I'm going to be the best wife ever! I'll deny you nothing! You'll see."

"Just read the letter, Liza," I said, somberly.

She was smiling as she opened the letter and pulled out its contents, eagerly thinking that the worst was behind her and she could finally move forward. Her lovely smile disappeared as she read the first page.

"What?" she shrieked, standing up quickly. "What the hell is this? A petition for dissolution of marriage? What the hell is this, Tyson? Is this some kind of a sick joke?"

"No, Liza. It isn't a joke. Like I said, everything ends today. It's all over with."

"Are you fucking kidding me? After everything I put up with to make it up to you? This is how you treat me? After watching you leave this house and crying every minute you were gone while you were on one of your dates with those whores I had to scrounge up for you? You're actually divorcing me now?!!"

"There were no dates, Liza."

"Yes there were! I even got messages from those bitches telling me how much they loved fucking you!"

"No, there weren't. I never went on a single date with any of those women. Because none of those women even existed."

"What are you talking about, Tyson?"

"All of those women's profiles were fake. They were all created by me."

"What? Why? Why would you do this?"

"First of all, hardly any men who go onto those married dating sites ever carry out an affair. There are hardly any women who even register on those sites and the vast majority of those women's profiles are fake, just like the ones I created.

"Second, if I were to go out and have sex with other women, that wouldn't make me as bad as you. It would make me worse than you. While you did things that you knew would hurt me, I believe you did a lot of them because you were caught up in the novelty of the affair and wanted to do whatever you could to make it exciting and to keep it going, especially for Marty's sake. I have come to learn, through my therapist, that you probably didn't do it specifically to hurt me. But if I had sex with other women, I would be doing it specifically to hurt you and punish you. And that would be worse in the long run.

"And, so, that's where I really was when I was out on my dates, so to speak. I was actually seeing a therapist," I concluded.

"Well....then why? Why would you do this?" Liza asked.

"To prove your loyalty to me. To prove that you would actually carry out what I asked you to."

"Well, I did, Tyson. I did exactly that. And because I did it, this divorce makes even less sense!"

"One of the things I told you, Liza, was that I never wanted you and Marty to see or contact one another ever again."

"I haven't seen him, Tyson! I swear to God!"

"Yes, I know. I had a GPS tracker installed in your car."

"Well, see? If you know I haven't seen him, then this divorce doesn't make sense, unless you're trying to be cruel!"

"Just because you haven't seen him, Liza, doesn't mean you haven't heard from him."

"Tyson, you can check my phone! Check the computer! Check all of it! I haven't sent anything to him with my phone or the computer! I swear!"

"Oh, believe me. I have. I checked your smart phone and the computer. In fact, I even secretly installed a GPS tracker on your phone, too. And I know you haven't seen Marty because Marsha also had a GPS tracker installed on Marty's phone and vehicle. So, yes. You are right. You haven't seen Marty."

"So, then, why in the hell are you doing this to me, Tyson?"

"Because I told you that I didn't want you to correspond with Marty in any way, shape or form."

Liza just looked at me. She knew something was wrong. I reached into my left pocket and withdrew a small prepaid cell phone, just as basic a model as you can get. You can call with it, but you can also text with it, too.

"You see, Liza, I had a friend come over one day who is very good with electronics and computers. She did a sweep of our house and found a very faint signal coming from your walk-in closet. The light socket in your closet; you screwed a secondary socket into the main light socket that also has an old-fashioned two-prong electrical outlet on it -- just the right socket to charge a cell phone with as you don't need a three-prong outlet. And you did a very good job of hiding it amongst all your shoeboxes and shit that you had piled up on the shelf in your closet."

Liza slowly sat back down on the couch. She knew it was over.

"And to make matters worse, not only did you keep and hide this secret cell phone from me, there is only one phone number programmed into this phone. Care to take a guess as to whose number it is?"

Liza bowed her head in shame, began crying softly, and just shook her head 'no'.

"I told you specifically that I didn't want you to have any correspondence with him in any way, shape or form."

"I..I was afraid...that you were going to hurt him," she sobbed.

"I was going to hurt him. You knew that I was going to hurt him. And I did hurt him. Several times. But that shouldn't have been your main concern. Your main concern should have been doing everything I told you to in order to save your marriage. You didn't do that, which tells me that you obviously don't feel that your marriage is worth saving. Hence, the divorce papers sitting in your hands."

"Oh, God, Tyson! I'm so sorry!"

"I no longer believe that, Liza. But look at it this way. We're both fairly young, in our early 30's, and we can each go out and find what we truly want. Me? I've always wanted children and you never did. So now I can find a woman who either has some young children I can help raise or I can have children of my own with her."

"No, Tyson! Please! If you want children, I would gladly give them to you!"

"What, are you kidding me? You've never wanted children! If you did, we'd have one or two by now. And we sure as hell aren't going to have kids just to try and save our marriage! That would be the stupidest and most irresponsible thing we could do. Trust me, this is for the best. And besides, you are free to chase Marty all over hell and back now if you want to."

"Why would I want Marty? We're done with each other and he is still married to Marsha."

"Not for long. If it makes you feel better, and I'm guessing it probably won't, but Marty is getting handed the same set of papers right now that you are. So, congratulations. You and Marty have ruined two marriages, not just one."

Liza was sobbing uncontrollably. "Where...where will...you go? What...will you...do?"

"Me?" I asked, incredulously. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here. This house was bought and paid for with my money. You work part-time as a librarian making $9.50 an hour. Do you really think you can afford this house? Give me a break. No, we'll split our bank account. You can keep your car and I'll keep mine. I'll keep my pension, too. I'll refinance the mortgage and give you half the equity. You can get a fresh start and work wherever you want to. And when you can afford it, you can buy a place of your own."

"This is...so unfair! I deserve more than that...after twelve years," she sobbed.

"No, you don't, Liza. You deserve far less. You're only getting that much because I'm generous."

"Then...I'll fight for the rest...in court!" she stammered.

"Then you'll lose, figuratively if not actually. If you insist on fighting me on this, I swear to everything holy that I will make public every last message between you and Marty. I will bring Marsha -- quite willingly, I might add -- sobbing and wailing into court to tell everyone what a whore and a home wrecker you are. I will make your parents and your siblings and our nieces and nephews watch the whole spectacle in awe and wonder. You will be metaphorically wearing a Scarlett Letter, if not wearing it in actuality. Do I make myself understood? I will make you want to crawl into the deepest hole in Mason County and you will NEVER want to see daylight again!"

Just then, there was a honk from out in the street.

"Get your stuff packed. Your sister Emily is here to pick you up. Just take what you need for a few days and you can pick the rest of your stuff up in a few days when we have had a chance to split everything 50/50. I'll even arrange for you to do it on a day when I'm at work so you don't have to see me."

Liza did her best to compose herself and gather up her things. Her sister Emily and I have always gotten along well and she was the only one I told about the affair. At first, naturally, Emily didn't believe me. But when I showed her many of the text messages between Liza and Marty, Emily was quite shocked. I swore her to secrecy and adamantly told her not to tell the rest of her and Liza's family or parents. I felt doing so would give me an extra poker chip to throw on the table when it came time for the divorce. It seems my gamble paid off.

Thirty minutes later, Emily helped Liza put the last of her things in her and Liza's cars and then Liza walked out of the house for the last time as my wife. I couldn't help but feel sadness as I watched her drive away. I would have to look forward to a new future -- one without Liza. While daunting, I couldn't help but be a little hopeful, too, as I had always wanted a family and now had the chance to pursue having one.

Liza was now free to find whatever it was she was looking for, too; whatever it was that she thought she had found with Marty. But as she drove away that day with tears in her eyes looking back at the man and the home she was forced to leave behind, I think it dawned on her that she had lost far more than she would ever find again.

SB