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I grab the nearest trinket and throw it at Decklan, then grab another, flinging it as he moves again. This time, it connects with his forehead.
“Fuck, Julia. What the hell is wrong with you?” he bellows, then turns and heads toward the downstairs bathroom, slamming the door, causing the pictures on the wall to shake.
“You cheated with her…again. Fuck you!” Stomping after him, I smack the bathroom door. “Goddammit, Deck. What’s wrong with me? Why do you cheat with her? Fucking talk to me.” My hands burn from slapping the door over and over. I slide down against the wall, and my ass hits the hardwood floor of the hallway. My head begins to ache from knocking it on the wall repeatedly. “Decklan!”
The door creaks, then my husband slowly comes out. Looking up, my face heated, my heart racing faster than an Indy car at the Indianapolis 500. I’m beaten again. A few tears trail down my face.
I caught Decklan with Sandy, his best friend Trace’s baby sister, just six months after we were married. I forgave him. We were very young and rushed into marriage. Sandy left for college, and I thought she was gone from our lives. Then one day twenty years later, I saw her at the grocery store. She looked like she did the day she left, and within two years of her returning, Decklan has fucked her again.
“Julia,” he begins and crouches beside me. “I’m sorry, I—”
“Shut up.” My hand crosses his cheek hard. “I don’t want to hear, ‘I’m sorry.’ I want to know why.” I push him as hard as I can, but at five-foot-two and only one-hundred pounds, my petite size isn’t enough to budge his six-foot-two solid body an inch. “I can’t do this again. If you can’t tell me why, then fucking leave. Now.” My arm shoots toward the front door of our home.
With his hand covering his red cheek, Decklan leans against the wall. He drags his other hand through his hair, then holds it against his chest, like he’s holding his heart.
I don’t fall for his sad puppy dog face. I huff out a breath as my lips purse tight. My eyes shoot bullets at him, waiting for him to explain what happened. “Well?”
His head hangs as his shoulders slump low. He draws in a deep breath, then says, “Juls, I was at the bar on the south side of town. Nowhere near where Sandy and I ever hung out before. She walked in, and I got up to leave.” He sits forward on the floor and scrubs his face with his hands. “She asked me to have a drink with her for old times’ sake. I didn’t see the harm in one drink.” He reaches for my hand, and I tug it from him.
“Keep going.” I inch back from him.
“We started talking and one drink led to another and before I knew it, I was fucking her in the bathroom. She dragged me to her car and we ended up at her place.” He sniffles and wipes his hand under his nose.
“But why? Being drunk is no excuse to cheat on me. Decklan, why?” I push him harder. I need a good reason to stay with him. It’s just not enough that I still love him.
“Because I’m an idiot. Because I’m weak when it comes to Sandy. I don’t love her. Fuck, I don’t even like her. Julia, please.” Decklan sighs heavily and stands.
I stay seated on the floor, not wanting to be near him, but not wanting to give up on my marriage. I roll my body back and forth, then take in several deep breaths. I cover my face with my hands and scream quietly. After a few minutes of deafening silence, I stand and place my hands on my hips. I raise my arm and point my finger at him.
Dropping to his knees, he takes my hand in his. “I’m weak. I’m an awful excuse for a husband. You deserve so much more than me. But please, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. Anything, I promise.” He squeezes my hands, then tugs on them to make me look at him. His captivating emerald eyes plead with me, pulling me back into his web.
Thinking what a fool I am to give this cheater yet another chance, I yank free of his grip and step back.
“Marriage counseling. Extensive counseling,” he blurts. “Anything you want.” He steps toward me. “Um…date night, once a week, or every night if you want. Please, Julia, tell me what I can do to save our marriage. I love you. I really do love you.” He grabs my arm, cupping my elbow, and holds me firmly.
I’m so fucking mad at him, but maybe we can save our marriage. We were happy for a long time after his first cheat. We went on dates. He brought me flowers just because. He’d bring me sweet cards and stupid funny cards to cheer me up if things at work got rough. We spent time — meaningful time together. Talking, playing boring board games, going for walks through the neighborhood park. When did that all stop?
Maybe we can be happy again. Maybe we just need to try harder. My head hurts from trying to stay mad at him. I free myself from his hold and rub my temples. I count to myself and tell myself to calm down. Puffing out a hard breath, I stand tall. My hands land on my hips. I glare at Decklan.
“Deck, this is your last fucking chance.” My shoulders square, and I tap my foot, waiting for him to speak.
“Yes, anything, baby. I love you, Julia. I’ll call around for a marriage counselor and set up the appointments. I’ll take care of it all. I promise. Oh my god.” He moves toward me and wraps his arms around me, pressing me to him. After several seconds, he releases me and cups my chin, tilting my head up. His emerald eyes are glassy as he says, “I promise, Julia. I promise.” He engulfs me again and showers me with kisses.
I must be absolutely fucking nuts to give him another chance, but he’s all I’ve got in this life. My parents are dead. I don’t have any other family. It’s just me and Deck, forever.
I splay my hands against his chest and hold him at arm’s length. Catching his gaze, I look deep into his pleading eyes. “This is the last time. I mean it. We’re moving.”
It’s been four months since starting fresh in Upstate New York.
Our credit card firm, which is location independent, handles all the private information for several local businesses, and some not local. We have a decent number of clients and make good money. We can do whatever we want, go wherever we want.
Our marriage survived what many never can – cheating, twice. The problem now, is that Decklan’s married to the business; trying everything he can to ‘provide for me.’ I don’t need him to provide for me. We own the business together. I need him to be present in our marriage.
After months of intense counseling, he just isn’t getting it. He keeps buying me stuff. Finding more clients to strengthen the business. That’s all well and good, but not what I need.
We’ve never talked about why he cheated after we moved away from Florida. He begged for my forgiveness. I’m still married to him, hoping he’ll get a clue, but until he does, I have needs that need met. And he needs to pay for hurting me.
Our biggest client is Club Wonderland, a BDSM club. I’ve never participated in the lifestyle but have always been curious. I know everyone who goes there goes in anonymously. Always. Masks or blindfolds are required, aliases are used, and contracts are signed. The owners run a tight ship. No one fucks with the club’s owners.
