Red Handed

In hindsight, part of me wanted to get caught.

Many of you who have come to know me have pointed out this fact.

T was visiting her folks for a few days in the next town over.  She came home unexpectedly at 10:30 pm and caught Stacy and I watching TV on the couch.  

Fully clothed. Not having sex.

Stacy’s dog was there also, in a crate on the living room floor.

As getting caught in flagrante delicto goes, it is nothing too salacious.

We are holding hands, watching an episode of ‘Drunk History’, and T rings my phone.

“Can you let me in the garage door? It’s locked.”

“You’re home?”

“Yes, is that a problem?”

No time to think. I put Stacy and her dog out the front door with her purse. Then let T in through the garage.  I grab my keys and make up an excuse that I am on my out to run something over to Henry’s house.

I try to get Stacy into my car out of the side yard, but T won’t close the garage door. She puttering around her car still, where she will clearly see anything.  I text Stacy to sit tight for a minute. My plan is to circle the block and come back to pick her up once T goes in the house.

Of course T was onto me from the start.

The moment I turn the corner, she steps out and comes face to face with Stacy in the dark.  No words are exchanged, but talk about horrible moments.

Stacy walks past and out into the street.  My phone rings a moment later.

It’s T:  “You can come get her. She is walking down the street.”

I pick up Stacy and drive her back to her place. She is understandably very upset. We talk it through on the way back.  I put her in a horrible position. I apologize.

Strangely, I am relieved it is finally out.  Some of it anyway…

She asks: “What now?”

“I’m going to go home and face up to what just happened.”

Stacy’s words as I drop her off: “Don’t get murdered.”

Clearly possible.

On the drive back to my house, I figure there is a 50/50 chance T will be gone when I get back.  One can only hope.

No such luck. As the garage door rolls up, her car is still there.

I am soooo going to get slapped…

T is on the couch.  Silent, but furious. Rightly so.

I don’t get slapped.  She admits she came home unannounced specifically to catch me.

She called me at 5 pm to say ” I won’t be home again tonight.” Then popped home unexpectedly at 10:30 pm.

“I knew there was something going on.” A woman always knows.

Her big tip offs:  I’ve stopped saying ‘love you’ when I get off the phone, and too much time with Henry.  She figured I was with someone else, not him.

Oddly enough, I do spend a lot of time with Henry, and I don’t use him as cover.  However, I do not take the opportunity to correct her.

We have the predictable melt down.  I give her a few facts, but no details.

“Yes, I’m having an affair.”

“She is someone I’ve been seeing for a few months.”

“Yes, I’ve slept with her.”

I probably should not have confessed to that last one, but how could I not?

I tell her nothing else.

She tries to dig out details

“when are you sleeping with her?”

“How often?”

I rebuff those questions.

“You have every right to be angry. This is a shitty thing I have done. I admit it. I am guilty and it was wrong of me.  However, I’m not going to wade through the details of it with you.”

We circle that argument for quite a while, but I don’t budge. The heated emotional discussion continues. She is doing most of the talking. I don’t defend myself. No excuses.

After several go-rounds T states that we should stay in separate parts of the house tonight.

“That’s a good idea.  I’ll make it easy for both of us. I’m leaving right now. I’ll go find a hotel.”

She pushes back: “We can’t afford that.”

I respond, “Don’t worry, I have plenty of points” , then throw a quick bag together and leave.

I text Stacy as I drive away.

“Heading to a hotel.”

“Can I come?”

“Definitely”

Shortly after midnight, Stacy and I are sitting in an IHOP eating breakfast and drinking coffee.

Emotions are flipping through me like a neon light.  Primarily, I’m relieved to be set free. Secondarily, I feel like an asshole because neither T nor Stacy deserve this.

Stacy, you were right, I should have just ripped off the band-aid and told her everything a long while ago. Come clean.

Tonight I am back in my house.  T is back at her folks and it is Christmas Eve.

I am fresh back from a run, and thinking about the future.

 

3 Comments Add yours

  1. R. Patience says:

    Did the ticket not come up? I mean it was a dangerous game she was playing to start with.

    Like

    1. uehobbyist says:

      Rule #1: no girlfriends. Shayne 08.07.2017, 12:39, “The Unexpected Hobbyist” <comment-reply@wordpress.com>:

      Like

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