Casting around for a solution, Will idly searched for a cheated spouse forum or website that could offer some clues. He clicked on the first link and landed on the page of a forum on a website offering guidance for spouses who had been betrayed by their partners. The website owner had offered a hotline to call for spouses who needed immediate or urgent help. Will dialled and within minutes was speaking to an older lady who reminded him of an old aunt who offered a listening ear and practical advice.
Ellen, as she called herself, was brutally frank about her own background. She had been a cheater herself and in the course of her adulterous affair, destroyed her own family and marriage. She now hoped to use her experience and help others save their marriages and families where possible.
"Now Will, I'm not gonna lie to you. It ain't gonna be easy. Heck, it's gonna be real tough. And in the end, you may not even succeed in putting yourselves back together again. But at least you know you've tried."
Will listened as she droned on, only two points that Ellen made really registered in his mind: Ellen had been adamant that he had to try to understand why Ashley had an affair, that involved really understanding how she thought rather than judging her and getting angry at her. And even more important than that, he had to decide after understanding everything, whether there was a marriage worth putting back together or if they were better off parting. Will wasn’t sure about the latter but he knew losing to Jackass wasn’t an option. As for understanding Ashley, all he wanted to understand was how to hurt her, preferably in ways that would leave her in as much pain as he was, pain that was without physical manifestation and could have no analgesic solution.
Ellen sighed after the call ended. Another young couple in trouble. For some reason, she couldn't shake the feeling that the wife sounded much like her in her younger days, wilful, rebellious, always trying to escape the confines of social rules and censure. Not realising the destructive impact of stepping out. Not caring about anything but herself. Her eyes involuntarily ran across the pictures on her desk. The yellow, tattered picture of a young couple on their wedding day. The same couple a few years later with young kids, only now the wife's face was showing exhaustion, depression and restlessness. "What's the use of regret?" she asked herself silently as a stray tear ran down her face at the memory of all that she had lost in exchange for what had been a hedonistic fling.
****
Will literally slept on the ideas that Ellen had suggested. When he woke up, he knew what he was going to do. No, he wasn't going to confront Ashley with what he knew of her affair. He was going to do things his way. He was going to tackle the situation as he would a plot or storyline. He knew he'd to put some distance between his emotions and Ashley's account of her affair. And the best way for a writer to do it was to look at the affair dispassionately, while distancing himself from the events like a third person narrator or observer. He struggled to keep his emotions in check. The anger still swept over him at times but he was able to keep it in control. The writing served to express those repressed emotions he couldn’t otherwise voice.
Days turned into weeks and finally after the quietest and most uncomfortable Christmas and New Year's they had ever spent together, Will decided it was time to put Ashley to the test. Right after the new school term started, Will told Ashley he was going to have to go on another school trip as a chaperone.
He'd asked Ashley if she was going to go over to Jackass' place and she'd swore she wasn't going to. Will cautioned his wife against meeting Jackass again but left half-convinced that she would succumb. The only difference was he now had everything set up to catch the two adulterers.
Can Ashley really hold out?
Will snorted as he contemplated the situation.
After all, she had her first fuckfest with that bastard the last trip I'd made.
Will thought cynically as he sat watching the monitor of his laptop in the motel room he'd booked for two nights. He steeled himself against the irrational flicker of hope that Ashley could resist betraying him.
Hell, she’d hardly waited for me to be out of the house before she went on that joyride with Jackass on his bike. Then she lied to me when I called and then fucked the guy at his house. She even stayed at his place that night and fucked him again the next day.
Will’s hands clenched in anger as he recalled the details of his wife's affair as revealed in her audio journal entries. He also recalled the humiliation he felt when she described the guilt and resistance she felt when he tried to make love to her upon his return. Though it was not the first time he'd thought about Ashley’s reaction and behaviour, the pain and rage had not lessened with time. If anything, it lay like an open wound, raw and ugly, flaring up at the gentlest touch of memory.
Despite his pessimism, Ashley didn't budge from the house. Hope flared despite Will’s attempt to resist it.
Perhaps Ashley truly wanted to work on their marriage.
Will wondered even if Ashley wanted to save their marriage, would he want whatever was left, or was he just reluctant to hand all to the assholes who betrayed him? Will decided to return home. Just as he quietly pulled into the street outside his house, however, the computer screen streaming live feed from the cameras aimed at Jackass' house showed Ashley deep in conversation with Jackass. The audio wasn't great but what Will heard and saw set his jaw tight.
Aww, isn't that sweet, they were having a 'tragic lovers farewell'.
Will’s lip curled in disdain for the deluded pair who acted like some amateur re-enactment of star crossed lovers forced to part rather than adulterous fuckers ending their sordid little affair.
Good lord, they're both delusional!
Will wondered if both were so lost in their roles and fantasies that neither could see what they really were.
If this was method acting, they are a couple of idiots who have deliberately blinded themselves to reality.
It was a moment of epiphany that Will did not recognise till weeks later when he read what he'd written in his manuscript.
At that point, anger reigned and even the bitterly funny sight of Ashley’s stunned guilt did nothing to assuage his anger and the need to punish her. The resulting disastrous threesome at the motel room didn't provide Will with any satisfaction.
He recalled the events of that night with a grimace but acknowledged that fucking Ashley had curiously started them on the process of removing those awkward barriers between them. The more cynical part of Will's mind told him that since he wasn't yet getting a divorce as yet, he might as well enjoy the fucking privileges of being her husband since God knows he'd already suffered all the downsides.
.
Weeks turned into months and Will found nothing on any of the monitoring to suggest that Ashley was communicating or fucking the Jackass next door. Then Jackass moved away. He'd seen the look of pain and loss when Ashley saw the movers and had pulled her upstairs. He'd given his best performance that day, fucking his errant wife's brains out. It was only made possible by his determination to distract his wife and also a petty urge to prove himself. He'd left their windows open, knowing full well Jackass would hear Ashley’s screams and his own sounds of satisfaction.
It provided him some satisfaction to see the hurt and anger on Jackass' face as he looked towards their house as Ashley’s cries floated down to him. That look alone, captured by the camera facing Jackass' house made Will count the expenditure on the monitoring devices money well spent.
He'd stopped seeing Ashley as the woman he loved but rather as a female target he'd to conquer. There was no gentleness that day, he'd eaten her out, pounded her till she was sore and his cock actually hurt when he pulled out of her. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd had all three of her holes and where they had fucked. Everything was a mass of hard fucking and animalistic pleasure.
Will pretended sleep as he felt Ashley wake up in the night. She'd walked downstairs and he'd followed silently after giving her a little head start. Ashley’s expression and what she talked about in the audio journals she'd continue keeping even after the psychiatrist had ended that particular project gave Will some satisfaction.
I saw Ashley staring out at the empty dark house next door. The look of pain that lay on her face made me wonder if she was feeling the loss of her fantasy or the loss of her lover. Both options didn't sit well in my gut. They curled and twisted like snakes in the pit of my stomach and spat out poison that rose like bile to my throat. God, how I hated my wife.
When Ashley started to move away, Bill snuck back upstairs and pretended to sleep. He felt Ashley snuggle up and spoon with him. It was all he could do not to push her away.
What was I? Her back up security blanket? I resented her coming to me after obviously getting all cracked up over her bad boy lover leaving. For the first time since we embarked on the road to reconciling, I wanted to hurt her. I just needed to think of a way to do so. A way that would tell her in as few words as possible "Take that, bitch! I hope you suffer!"
When Ashley started to move away, Bill snuck back upstairs and pretended to sleep. He felt Ashley snuggle up and spoon with him. It was all he could do not to push her away.
What was I? Her back up security blanket? I resented her coming to me after obviously getting all cracked up over her bad boy lover leaving. For the first time since we embarked on the road to reconciling, I wanted to hurt her. I just needed to think of a way to do so. A way that would tell her in as few words as possible "Take that, bitch! I hope you suffer!"
With that thought in mind, Bill drifted off to sleep with a genuine smile on his face. The first smile Bill had since the discovery of the affair.
Will looked in satisfaction at what he’d written. Bill’s satisfaction at his wife’s pain mirrored Will’s own secret delight at Ashley’s pain, life being reflected in the fiction he wrote. Before the discovery of the affair, Will would have been horrified at the thought of feeling pleasure at Ashley's pain. Now, his pain demanded satisfaction in kind.
The turmoil of recent months provided Will with rich material for his writing. Without consciously noting his progress, Will was surprised when he found his manuscript at the 3/4 mark. Looking over what he'd written, he realised he'd expiated much of his frustration through his writing. It was catharsis and had brought his writing to a new level. Bill’s emotions coloured the entire narrative, his pain radiated off each page.
While Will had set out to write a story from Ashley's perspective, he ended up psychoanalysing her. Will didn’t merely transcribe Ashley's thoughts and feelings, he saw her weaknesses, vulnerability and insecurity. Something Ashley either refused to face up to or suppressed in her blind impulse to find escape from the mundane routine of life. She was having a quarter-life crisis and was trying in her own way to return to the carefree existence of her college days. Hence her reversion to the hang ups she had back in college, her fascination with the "bad boy" type she'd liked before him. And that teen rebellion that opposed everything social mores dictated or that adults approved of. Her reaction and solution to adult problems and adult life was that of a teen's - rebellion and escapism.
He'd posted a version detailing Ashley’s perspective on erotica websites and it was the subject of debate and controversy. Encouraged by the response, Will started sending copies of the manuscript to agents and publishers. Then came the unexpected.
An email arrived from an agent who expressed interest in his book, though the manuscript was incomplete. The email contained a request for a meeting to discuss matters. Will cautioned himself against excessive expectations since those had brought nothing but disappointment on earlier occasions. The sight of the blonde, slightly messy but enthusiastic agent made his heart sink. She didn't look too experienced. The discussion buoyed his spirits however since she seemed genuinely interested in the story, which was a refreshing change from the run-of-the-mill agents who were more interested in deals rather than the book. She was also refreshingly honest, cautioning him against expecting a bestseller or becoming a millionaire from that one book. "Not everyone is a closet EL James waiting to burst onto the scene," she said sagely, displaying wisdom which belied her age.
Will tensed when his agent probed a little deeper into the origins of his plot. Her honesty, however, encouraged him to let slip that it was partly based on a couple he knew. The gimlet-eyed look she gave him ensured Will knew she suspected something. Neither pressed the issue since they knew at a first meeting, no one would be willing to show all their cards.
They ended the meeting with his agent promising to call if she had an offer from a publisher and Will signing a representation contract contingent on his getting a book deal.
Will tensed when his agent probed a little deeper into the origins of his plot. Her honesty, however, encouraged him to let slip that it was partly based on a couple he knew. The gimlet-eyed look she gave him ensured Will knew she suspected something. Neither pressed the issue since they knew at a first meeting, no one would be willing to show all their cards.
They ended the meeting with his agent promising to call if she had an offer from a publisher and Will signing a representation contract contingent on his getting a book deal.
****
How do you defeat an illusion?
That was the question haunting Will as he heard the last of Ashley's audio journal entries sent to the psychiatrist. She had ended her individual counselling sessions with the psychiatrist who had thought there wasn't much more to discuss about her brief affair and that more time should be devoted to couple counselling sessions.
It might have been self-consolation, but from what he had heard, Will surmised that Ashley's obsession with the bastard next door was based at least in large part on the illusion she had in her mind about the alternate future she could have with the bad boy type. An alternate future that was conveniently free of the burdens, stresses and tedium of normal married life, the life she now had.
She had conveniently ignored the stresses of life she would face if she had to live with someone like Jackass. Presumably, she figured all the nitty gritty details of life that were handled mostly by Will right now would automatically solve themselves. Will snorted in derision.
Reality obviously doesn't figure large in her alternate future.
Gradually, the thought took shape in Will's mind. He recalled with sudden clarity a presentation made by the geek students in the extra credit class on strategies. The Asian student had referred to a famous strategist Sun Tzu and concluded that victory was assured if one knew and understood one's enemies as one understood oneself. The student had concluded, "If you truly understand your enemies' weaknesses and strengths, you may use their weaknesses against them and overcome their strengths. Doing so, you will achieve victory."
Well, I have as much information on Ashley's affair and her perspective of matters as I can possibly have. Destroying her fantasies and illusions would strip Ashley of her defences against reality. Forcing Ashley to come face to face with the sordid nature of her affair instead of the romantic illusions she seemed determined to surround herself with would effectively decimate her sense of self worth. After all that self worth and vanity required romantic illusions to shield her sensibilities from her vulgar acts of betrayal in the first place. And if Ashley were so deluded as to think she could make a life with Jackass, all that had to be done would be to release all the information gathered so far to their friends and family . Hell, if the novel became successful, all he had to do was add those little words Based on a true story. Ashley would never live that down, the shame and stigma would ensure her isolation and in that, her own personal hell. Knowing Ashley, that inner torment would eat away at any external happiness. Eventually, she would blame the people around her, including Jackass.
That leaves only Jackass. He's moved away so that complicates things but presumably Margaret Miller will be a place to start. Damn it! It's going to cost money and the savings are running low after all the counselling and expenditure of the last couple of months. Still, any information that’ll take him down will be worth it.
Will slammed his fist on the steering wheel as he considered the difficulties he'd face with limited resources and the need to gather information on Jackass. He wondered distractedly about his agent and the publishers she was contacting.
He wondered with bitter humour if the tale of Ashley's affair would somehow pay for the means to destroy her fantasy and solve the problems thrown up by the affair.
Well, God works in mysterious ways, perhaps for once, he will be on my side.
Somehow, even he didn't believe that, thinking sourly how God could have prevented his wife from cheating if he were truly on his side.
Will was unaware but Fortune and Wisdom did smile on him as a meeting almost all the way across the country was set to change his life forever.
****
"Mr Everton, I assure you, Will is the real deal. The story as it stands right now is solid and I'm sure it will do well among readers. It's set to appeal across the gender and demographic divide, housewives, young career women, angry middle aged men."
Adam Everton looked coolly at the enthusiastic blonde trying to sell him her client's manuscript. He'd read it and was impressed but the publishing business was based on such razor thin margins these days, he couldn't afford to take the risk. Still, though he couldn't exactly place a finger on it but the book appealed to him. It struck a chord in that dark part of his psyche, the part that never allowed him to forget his dad's slow death over the years.
The old man had effectively died the day she left him. Till this day, Adam couldn't bring himself to refer to that woman as 'mom'. No, mom died the day that woman turned her back on the two crying kids held back by a sobbing man who was on his knees on their front porch begging her not to abandon their family, their marriage for that asshole who didn't even care what he was destroying. That woman had cried and professed her love for them even as she abandoned them.
Adam winced and blocked out the pain that inevitably followed those memories. The years of pain and anger that his old man felt and carried was all that Adam focused on. The many attempts that woman had made to reconcile with her estranged family only made Adam angrier when he recalled how his father lapsed into drink every time that woman contacted them. She wouldn’t even let up when his dad was on his deathbed. Adam refused to acknowledge the fact that his father had requested the presence of his ex-wife or that the sad smile on the old man's face directed at his unfaithful wife before he closed his eyes for the last time.
The anger burning in his gut brought Adam out of the reverie he'd fallen into. That it reflected the pain he'd clearly felt in the words of the manuscript sealed the deal. Not a man given to impulse, Adam nevertheless decided to go with his gut feelings.
"Look, I'm going to be kind for once and give this guy a chance. Here's the advance," he said as he passed the cheque to the anxious agent.
He almost smiled as the blonde's eyes rounded at the amount stated on the cheque.
"Tell him, we need to see the rest of the manuscript within two months before we negotiate royalties and details. And, “he paused as his eyes narrowed menacingly.
"If he plays us for a fool, he'll be poison in this industry. Make sure he understands that."
"I will, I will."
"Good. Now let's think about some preliminary angles, it's based on a real life couple you say..."
****
Will stared disbelievingly at the cheque the agent had handed him, even as she giggled non-stop after she sat him down and delivered the news in a faux sombre manner. When she emailed and called asking for an urgent meeting a few days earlier, Will had been prepared for the worst. And when he first saw her with her face all serious for the first time since they were acquainted, his heart sank and his inner voice groaned with defeat.
"Will, I have some news for you from the publisher,” she had said slowly, hesitantly, as if afraid of the effect her words might have on him. Will noted she had averted her eyes as she spoke. Fully prepared to hear that his novel was trashed or rejected once again, Will emptied his mind and kept an iron grip upon his emotions while waiting for the verdict.
"You're going to have to work your ass off and produce the rest of the novel before you can see another dime of the 90%!"
His agent fairly shrieked the words that stunned Will as his mind played catch up with his ears. Between trying to make sense of the excitable blonde who was laughing and trying to hug him from across the table and the piece of paper that had been dropped in his hands by the aforementioned blonde, Will found himself breathless. He tried to catch his breath and organise his thoughts when the blonde, suddenly cognizant of the numerous curious glances thrown their way, tried for some dignity as she sat back down and took a sip of her water.
Will looked up at the skies and the hint of spring sunlight that hovered teasingly on the edges of the puffy clouds that decorated the blue backdrop. He sent a silent thank you to the powers that be who had seen fit to send him a lucky break for once.
Two days later, he smiled in the brilliant sunshine that bathed him in gold as he stepped out of the bank where he'd opened a new account with the cash from the advance payment given by the publisher. He wasn't a millionaire but his mission of shining some light on the ephemeral fantasies and illusions of the adulterous pair was starting off on the right foot. As he stepped into the sunlight, Will revelled in the warmth of spring and its promise for new life for the first time since his world had turned upside down in fall. After all, wasn't moonlight a pale illusory reflection of the sun's illumination?
Yes, destroying fantasies using the light of reality was going to be fun.
****
The best laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft a-gley,
Gang aft a-gley,
To a Mouse by Robert Burns
Please read the rest of the series on Literotica.
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