It had been six months since I cheated on my husband. During that time, I had tried to tell him. How do I tell my husband that I had slept with another man, not only another man but a black man? A black man while we were on vacation with our kids, while my husband was in the next room tending to our children.

Every time I got the nerve to tell him, I backed down. I knew it would mean the end of our marriage. Timothy was raised in the Deep South, while I was in what some people called the “city south.”

I still had my country ways, but living in Atlanta was much different from being raised in the “sticks,” as Timothy proudly called his low-population hometown.

Now, we were living on the outskirts of Atlanta in a lovely suburban house and were content with how things had turned out. Timothy worked for a prominent construction contractor while I worked in a hair salon.

Our three children went to a lovely school, and things were perfect. That was until we went on vacation. I cheated. I was that woman who slept with another man, let that man fill her inside with his… I couldn’t even bring myself to think of it. I had literally begged him to cum inside me.

I sat up in bed and looked over at Timothy. He had his reading glasses on as he read one of his new contracts. I couldn’t bring myself to sleep with him. I promised myself that I wouldn’t until I told him.

After being married for the number of years we have been, it was easy to make excuses or make myself unavailable. However, I knew the moment was coming soon. I would have to tell him.

“Fuck that!” Lexis shouted at me from her spot in the corner.

“I am with her,” Natalie agreed as she did her client’s hair.

“I owe it to him,” I said as I washed out the last of the shampoo from my client’s hair. “He is my husband.”

“So,” my client said. “I have been cheating on my husband and my other boy toys for going on five years,” she said as I pulled her head up.

“They cheat on us,” a woman said from her chair. “They cheat, they lie and then expect us to accept it because they are men. Get the fuck out of here!”

This was the usual talk that happened in our salon. We knew each other, and most of our clients were regulars. They came in every week wanting the same thing.

“You can’t tell me that it wasn’t good?” Tonya asked. She was the owner of the establishment.

“Of course,” I said, even though I had regrets about cheating.

I wouldn’t lie to myself that it didn’t feel good at the time. Hell, I was on cloud nine for a week after and ready to do it again. That was until I came home.

“Did you get off?” Natalie asked as she came back to her station.

“When was the last time your husband got you off like that?” another patron asked.

I looked around. All of them were staring at me.

“A while,” I shrugged as I turned the stool to face the mirror.

“How long is a while, exactly?” Tonya asked.

“Well then, you don’t owe him shit!” Natalie shouted.

“Actually, he owes you,” one of the women said. To which the others agreed. I nodded.

It took a while, but the subject changed to other matters. My mind still lingered on what I had to do. I knew it was time to do the right thing.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Thanks, Susan,” I said as I hung up the phone.

My neighbor was going to take care of the kids tonight. I looked at the table. Everything was set. I had prepared all his favorites, not that it would matter. I am sure most of it would go in the trash or, worse, hit the wall.

I heard his pickup truck pull into the driveway. My heart raced. This was the point where I usually backed down, finding an excuse for why I shouldn’t do it. I could hear my mother’s voice in my head.

“Excuses are for those that can’t do. It is, or it isn’t. There is no in-between,” she always said to my sister and me anytime we made excuses for not doing something.

I remembered a time in high school when I told one of my guy friends I hadn’t had the time to talk to or call him because I was busy. After I hung up, my mother gave me a look. She turned and walked away. She told me that she had never been so disappointed in me.

It was a lie, a blatant lie. I tried to make an excuse for the reason why I did it. My mother held up her hand and said she didn’t want to talk to me. The next day, she was killed in a hit-and-run accident. I never forgot that look.

“Hey,” Timothy said as he entered the dining room. “Where are the kids?” he asked as he sat down.

“Susan has them for the night,” I nodded.

“Oh no,” Timothy smiled. “What did you do? Moreover, how much is it going to cost me?” he laughed as he began to make a plate for himself.

My eyes began to fill with water. “Come on,” Timothy said as he grabbed my hands. “Whatever it is, we will work it out; we always have.”

I pulled my hands back. “I don’t think we can with this one,” I shook my head.

“Trust me,” he smiled. “Come on tell me.”

I took a deep breath and looked into my husband’s eyes. Then I let out a sigh and told him everything, not leaving anything out. He stared at me, not saying a word until I was finished.

Then there was silence, ear-splitting, nauseating silence that seemed to last hours. I knew it was only a minute or two, but watching him look at me and say nothing made it feel like a day had passed. Slowly, he stood up and walked towards the garage.

I listened to the amount of swearing that could make a sailor cringe. There were words I never thought I would hear my husband say about another person. Other terms he had promised he would never speak again. Then, things began to fly and hit the walls. Timothy had a temper. He had never beaten the kids or me. He always went out to the garage.

I sat still, not moving or attempting to go out to him like usual. Then I heard the door open, and he walked back in. He sat across from me as I stared at the floor.

“You can’t even look at me, can you?” he asked.

I shook my head. My long blonde hair was hiding my face from him.

“How?” he asked. “No, why?” he corrected himself. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

“I am taking the kids to my mom’s place for the week,” he said as he stood up. “When I come back, I want you gone!”

I nodded. Timothy slammed the door as he went out, and I began to cry.

A week isn’t a long time. Sure, on a calendar, it looks like a long time. When you must pack and get most of your belongings out of a house, it goes by in the blink of an eye.

That wasn’t the most challenging part; the hardest part was explaining to your fourteen-year-old son why his mother wouldn’t be home when he returned. The young boy didn’t understand or wouldn’t know for a while, but he knew why his father was mad. Also, he had questions many questions. Most of them were about him.

I couldn’t believe my life was crashing down over twenty minutes twenty minutes from when I entered that other hotel room to when I left. That’s all it took to crack the foundations of my life.

“I will send for the rest,” I told Timothy over the phone. He had called to make sure I wasn’t home before he left his mother’s house.

“Fine,” he replied. “The papers?”

“As soon as I get them, I will sign them,” I nodded as I got into my car.

“I still want visitation rights!” I said I knew I had done a horrible thing and I had no right to be a full-time mother, but they were still my children.

“We will see,” Timothy said as he hung up.

“We will see, my ass,” I said as I put the car in gear and left the house.

My new place was a dump. It was all I could afford, and it was in a bad part of the city. Luckily, I had nothing valuable to steal, and most of my things were in storage.

I looked up at the hideous monstrosity that hovered over where I would put my bed.

“The last tenant was, to put it mildly, let’s just say she had a lot of gentlemen callers,” the landlord said behind me as we made the final walkthrough.

I didn’t intend to live here for too long. When he left, I unpacked most of the minor stuff while Lexis and her boyfriend helped me with the more significant things.

“Wow,” Lexis said, staring up at the mirror. She looked around the small room. “There really is nowhere else to place a bed, but right here.”

Her boyfriend Jackson smiled as he stared at Lexis. “Don’t even,” she shook her head at him. “It’s hideous.”

“If you can get it down, it’s all yours,” I said as Lexis, and I pulled the bed out of the way.

Jackson and his friend started looking at it as they planned on a way to take it down. Lexis joined me in the small living room.

“It was the right thing to do,” I nodded.

Lexis had been a good friend to me when I entered the salon. While some others were friendly to me, I knew they said many things behind my back. On the other hand, Lexis was the type to tell it all to my face.

“What are you going to do?” Lexis asked, her long weave hanging to one side.

“I was going to ask for extra hours,” I said, sitting on my couch.

“Well, you know that won’t happen,” Lexis snapped back. “All of us have been looking for extra hours or extra clients. People are doing their own hair now, looking online for help videos and shit.”

I nodded. Lexis was right. The number of new clients was dwindling, even with Tonya lowering the prices on everything.

“I was also thinking about doing one of the rideshare apps,” I shrugged.

“In this neighborhood?” Lexis looked at me like I was crazy.

“No,” I shook my head. “Thinking of driving into the city close to the airport, early mornings and afternoons. No late nights though.”

“It’s not coming down,” Jackson said as he entered the room.

“Whoever put it up there bolted it to the ceiling,” his friend said. “Only way that thing is coming down is if you took part of the ceiling with it.”

“That’s what the landlord said,” I nodded. “Thanks though.”

The three of them stayed for a little while. Their friend Terry offered to stay later, but I knew why he wanted to stay, and I just wasn’t in the mood for his advances.

I went to the grocery store to get some things for the rest of the week. It had to last until my next paycheck.

It was past ten at night when I returned, and some men were hanging out at the bottom of the stairs.

“Ah, you must be the new tenant,” one of the men said as he got up. The smell of weed and alcohol filled the air.

“That mirror still up there?” one of the other men asked with a smile.

I pretended not to hear as I walked up the stairs.

“Stuck up bitch,” one of the other men said as I made it up to my landing.

I walked across the landing to my apartment, opened the door, went inside, and closed the door.

“I can go for the rest in the morning,” I said as I put things away. “Shit!” I shouted as I realized the Ice cream and other frozen items were still in my car’s trunk.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. I had dealt with guys like this before when they came by the salon. Lexis was the best at dealing with them.

Actions and Consequences Chapter Two: Consequences

Starting to make amends leads to more problems and wrong decisions.

It had been six months since I cheated on my husband. During that time, I had tried to tell him. How do I tell my husband that I had slept with another man, not only another man but a black man? A black man while we were on vacation with our kids, while my husband was in the next room tending to our children.



Actions and Consequences Chapter Two: Consequences

Starting to make amends leads to more problems and wrong decisions.

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Alexander Martin

About the Creator

Alexander Martin

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Bride To Be Part One: Cold Feet

Actions and Consequences Chapter Two: Consequences

Starting to make amends leads to more problems and wrong decisions.

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of .css-13w9qce-Text{display:inline-block;color:var(--text-accent);}Alexander Martin

About the Creator

Alexander Martin

Comments

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Keep reading

Bride To Be Part One: Cold Feet

This is an Exclusive Story for supporters of Alexander Martin