Devastated Read online

  I'm not sure what woke Grant up, but he comes into the room where I'm searching the computer. With one look at my face, he knows something is terribly wrong.

  “Hey, what’s going on? What’s wrong with you?” I throw his phone at him, and with a voice I do not recognize as my own, I yell, “This is what’s fucking wrong!”

  He catches the phone just before it hits the ground. Looking at the screen, his shoulders slump and a look of shame crosses his face. I start to get out of the chair to get past him. I can’t bear to be in the same room with him at this moment. He grabs my arm on my way out the door. “I can explain; it’s not what it looks like.”

  “Really? You mean to tell me this is not a picture of you jacking off and sending it to someone other than me? You must be out of your fucking mind if you think I am falling for that shit.” And quite frankly, he knows me better than to think I would. With a mad-as-hell face, I try to hide my pain. “So, tell me what it is, because it sure as hell looks as if you are cheating on me, sexting your girlfriend.”

  "I have never cheated on you." The response flies out of his mouth. At this moment, there is no way my brain will compute this.

  I try to shrug my arm out of his grip. He wants to explain, but I don’t want to hear it. I need to get away, get out of this house. My kids have gone to bed, and I don’t know how to have this conversation right now. We have never had issues in our marriage, ever. We don’t typically argue, fight, scream, or yell. If we disagree, we usually talk it out and come to a compromise. I am out of my element, and as a control freak, I can’t deal with it. I have to run. I have to have a plan, a thought process. I look at him with eyes of daggers, “Let my arm go, NOW.”

  “We have to talk about this; you have to let me explain.”

  "I don’t want to hear it." I grab my purse and storm out the door.

  ***

  I have no clue where I am going; my brain is not working properly. I can barely see past the rage, hurt, and anger I feel. I drive until I get to the end of the road. I park my car at the river and have a total meltdown alone in my car, alongside the banks of the breathtaking Tchefuncte River under massive one-hundred-year-old oak trees. I’m now crying uncontrollably—something I have never done. I can handle this, right? I don’t know how to handle this. This is not us, this is not our marriage, that is what I keep telling myself.

  When I pulled out of our driveway, I had turned off the tracking on my phone. I didn't want him to find me. Not that he would even look, but just in case. I can’t bear to hear his voice right now. How could he? How could he do this to me, to us, to our family? Why? Why did he do this? All these questions are coming to my mind, and I don’t have an answer for one of them. Not one!

  We don’t argue over anything but money! We have sex at least three times a week. We do everything together except for our jobs. Where in the hell did he have the time for this? How could I not know? I am done asking myself questions I don’t have answers for. Just as that thought crosses my mind, my phone starts beeping.

  Chapter 3

  Grant:

  12:35 a.m.

  Where r u?

  I am worried about u

  U should not be driving

  U had too much wine

  I am SO sorry let me explain

  Shelby:

  12:37 a.m.

  Don’t act all worried

  u could hv cared less

  when u were pulling ur dick out

  texting it to someone OTHER than me

  Grant:

  12:38 a.m.

  It’s not what it looks like

  Call me so I can explain

  Or come home so we can talk

  Shelby:

  12:38 a.m.

  Right now I cant stand the thought

  of seeing ur face r hearing your voice

  This is all I am gonna gv u so start texting

  Grant:

  12:39 a.m.

  1st I am SO SORRY

  Shelby:

  12:39 a.m.

  Yea sorry I found out?

  Grant:

  12:40 a.m.

  Please let me explain!

  I am sorry I did it

  Its not your fault its mine

  I take responsibility

  I was reading msg boards on porn

  sites & started commenting

  It got out of hand

  That site brought me to an app that shows

  picture for 3 sec

  It turned into show me yours

  & I’ll show u mine

  Shelby:

  12:45 a.m.

  What r u fucking 12?

  They all look the same u ass

  Am I not enough 4 u?

  I don’t understand the need?

  Its not like we don’t do it 3 times a week!

  What else do u want frm me?

  Grant:

  12:47 a.m.

  Its not u & I am an ass

  I LOVE U

  I don’t ever want to be w/out u

  Please Im so sorry it got out of control

  I promise it wont happen again

  12:50 a.m.

  R u there?

  1:05 a.m.

  R u ok?

  Shelby:

  1:10 a.m.

  I honestly dont know how to responds

  We get along

  Nothing has changed that I know of?

  Has it?

  Grant:

  1:12 a.m.

  No nothing has changed I am an idiot

  I am sorry

  I love u so much please come home

  Shelby

  1:14 a.m.

  I will be home when I get there

  Turning my phone off

  “Grant”

  I can’t believe I’m this stupid! What have I done? I knew I shouldn’t have gotten on that site and hit that chat button. It started off with me trying to find new things to talk Shelby into. But I knew she would never let me tie her up or spank her. She is so strong-minded, and that is one of the reasons I fell in love with her. But that strong will is also her vice at times. She makes up her mind before she even tries anything. I wish I could have tried to open her mind.

  I knew it was wrong the entire time. But it was so damn exciting! So erotic! It wasn’t the person that made it sexy. It was what we were talking about, and what we were sending to each other.

  Not to mention, I am sure it was all a lie. I lied about my name, my age, and my marital status. I never sent anyone a picture of my face. Damn it, I knew this was bad, but I just couldn’t stop myself. I love Shelby so much, but our sex life has been a bit boring for sometime now. I know that’s a piss-poor excuse, but it's a fact. I need to talk to her. I need to explain to her I never cheated. I am sure that won’t help much, but we have to talk.

  What am I going to tell her that doesn’t make it feel like it’s her fault? I am just going to take all the blame, call myself a piece of shit, and beg for her forgiveness. I will tell her I will do ANYTHING she wants me to do to get through this. I have to admit, I am glad she found them. It was starting to get way out of control.

  At first, it was just flirty women who would ask, "You want to see my tits?” or “I would love for you to see a picture of my wet pussy. Do you want to see it?” Really, that’s how crazy these chat sites are. Then someone asked me to send her a picture of my dick getting hard after she had sent a picture of her dripping wet pussy. So I did it. Why, I’m still not sure, but it was exciting to take a picture of my hard cock and send it.

  I guess I really need to question my motives and myself before Shelby gets back home. God, I hope she comes back home tonight. I’m really worried about her. She is so upset. She may get into a wreck or something. I was knocked out on the sofa, but I see her empty glass of wine. I am sure she had her typical large glass. Damn it, why didn’t I stop her from driving off?

  Why did I do this? Was it exciting because it was a stranger? Because it wasn’t Shelby? No, it was the act that w
as exciting. I would love for Shelby to send me pictures from work of her wet pussy and tell me she is thinking of me and thinking of fucking me. That would be so much fun and different from our normal vanilla sex life. So why in the hell did I not tell her that? Why did I not ask her to try sexting with me?

  That question has an easy answer—she would never do such a thing. In a way, I understand her thinking; she thinks she has to be all proper and motherly all the time. She never wants to try anything new or different. Maybe I should have pushed her harder to try new stuff with me? I should have, I really should have, done that before doing what I did. I have to fix this. I can't live my life without Shelby. I am mentally willing her to walk through that door safe, or simply turn her phone back on.

  I am sitting at the table staring at the phone with my head in my hands. I ask God to help me. I shouldn't ask because I don’t even go to church with Shelby and the kids. But I have to; I need her back. God, I promise to be better to Shelby than I ever have; please give me one chance to make it up to her. Please, God, please keep her safe until she gets home. There is nothing left for me to do but wait. I sit and stare at the phone while I wait. It’s now 3:00 a.m.! She has been gone for almost three hours. My phone beeps—it’s Shelby!

  Chapter 4

  “Shelby”

  At some point, I need to bring myself to drive home. I'm completely devastated! He says he did not cheat on me, but it most certainly feels like it. I have sat on the bank of the river for hours watching boats go by in the still of the night. I wish I could go with them and get the hell out of here to go anywhere else but here. Is that something I could do, just leave? Leave my kids, my family, my home, and my job? My husband of almost twenty motherfucking years?

  It makes me angry; I'm mad as hell. I have given him everything I have. I gave Grant my body when it was perfect all those years before we had kids. My body was changed forever by having HIS children. My boobs are nowhere near where they were when I was nineteen, and my butt is larger than it used to be. And, of course, my stomach is far from tight or flat after two kids. I never took time for myself, and didn’t really try to get back into shape because I was too busy being a mother. Was I the problem? Was he no longer attracted to me?

  These thoughts go through my mind while I look up at the oak trees that must hold so many secrets.

  Who in the hell does he think he is? Does he think he is as attractive as the day I met him? I mean, really, he's still a very nice-looking man, but neither of us look nineteen anymore.

  Then it came to me. I am not a quitter! I am a fighter who never loses what she fights for. This is not about my body or me. If he had an issue or felt neglected, he needed to communicate that to me, not go texting his dick to random people on some stupid app.

  It’s about 3:00 a.m. when I pull into the driveway. I am disappointed when he doesn’t rush out of the house to greet me. Actually, truth be told, I am pissed that he does not come out. Did he just fall asleep like it's no big deal? Okay, Shelby, calm yourself down. You have to be reasonable, that's what I keep telling myself, but it’s tough to do.

  I walk around the side of the house to peak in the back blinds and see if I can see him. I am shocked when I see him staring at his phone on the table, willing it to ring, waiting to hear from me. He couldn't leave the kids home alone in the middle of the night, so he was stranded here waiting on my word. I hate to admit it, but it makes me feel better to see the pain on his face. In the way he's holding his body, I know I should not be glad, but my heart hurts so much right now I want him to hurt too.

  I turn my phone back on and start to text him.

  Shelby:

  3:12 a.m.

  I dont know how we get past this

  Grant:

  3:12 a.m.

  Thank god u r ok

  I hv been so worried

  I am SO SORRY

  PLEASE COME HOME

  Shelby:

  3:15 a.m.

  I am home.

  He finally finds me sitting outside under the back patio. We talk for a long time about what has happened and what we're going to do about it. The bottom line is he has always been a porn man, and I never understood it or cared to. He has always wanted something more exciting than what we were doing. He said it started with him looking for new things for us to do. “I knew you would never try any of the stuff I saw online.”

  Being so young when we got together, I let him lead us in the bedroom, but I wouldn’t allow certain things that made me uncomfortable. Watching porn was one of them. I had no desire to see it.

  I was not mature enough at the time to try anything but plain vanilla, considering the things he did to me were above and beyond what I had done before him. I assumed we were doing more than plain old vanilla. Then the kids came. I have to admit I was even less tolerable of anything new after that. I was either too tired or too stressed to stay awake or care. We had sex once during the week and twice on the weekends. We both always have orgasms and they were usually at the same time. Good, right? So I thought! What else did he want?

  A day or two goes by with me only speaking to Grant when necessary. I am just too hurt. I had explained to him exactly this, "I have given you my heart and my soul for twenty-one years. You have sliced my chest open, ripped my heart out, and stomped on it! You have to give me time to put my heart back together. If you don’t like the silent treatment or my attitude, too fucking bad, deal with it."

  Believe it or not, he understood that. He knew me too well; he knew it would only take me a few days to come up with a plan. That's just how I work; I'm a fixer. Everything can be fixed, if you have a plan to fix it. That's what I needed. But how? What was going to be the plan? How in God’s name could I ever compete with that stuff he sees on TV? It’s all a bunch of nonsense! No one really does that kind of stuff. Do they?

  The plan hit me like a ton of bricks! Find out if anyone is really doing the stuff I have refused to believe was real-life stuff. The start of my plan was to read that book everyone was gabbing about—that one book with the tie on it.

  I was never a reader. Grant had mentioned this book to me about a month before what I now call the “cyber incident.” He said it made his coworker’s wife so hot she gave it to him on the kitchen table after putting the kids to bed. Right there on the table! Was he for real? I ignored his suggestion back then because I thought his co-worker was full of shit. Why would I read porn? After college, I never read anything but magazines and the Internet.

  Here goes nothing! I don’t tell Grant about my plan. I still have enough pain in me to want him to feel the same misery. I want him to see my sad soul, to know my heart has been ripped into a thousand pieces. I want him to feel my anxiety. I am too strong for this shit. I don’t quit and I don’t panic.

  This is all a new world to me. I don’t break down, I don’t cry, and I don’t whine. I just get up, dust off, and keep moving. That's how I'm built. This is how we are built as a couple. I didn't have a panic attack when we lost our entire home to Hurricane Katrina eight years ago.

  We lost everything we owned. The only things we had were each other, the kids, and the clothes we had packed in the car when we left. Grant and I broke down for literally thirty seconds when we drove up to our flood-ravished home. Thirty seconds is all we allowed, then we decided to deal with it. We were not the only people in the New Orleans area that were devastated by this storm, so why would we think we were special enough to bellyache about it.

  We taught the kids to feel lucky that all of their family was safe. The house and the stuff in it was just “stuff.” None of the stuff is important; family is the most important thing, and we were all together. My siblings, my parents, my grandparents, and Grant’s family lost everything also. It was a rough go for a while, but we did it without moaning and groaning about it.

  We simply moved from south of New Orleans to north of Lake Pontchartrain. That was the plan, the plan that let us sleep at night. We were no longer close enough to be
inundated with floodwaters if another storm hit, but we were still close enough to keep our jobs and visit the family members that didn't move. That's what we did. This should be a cakewalk.

  Chapter 5

  I started to read. WOW was all I could say after reading the first book. I read it in less than a week, and I have to admit, while the book intrigued me, I still thought, This is fantasy stuff, right? Real people don’t do this, do they? Then I read book two, then book three. While I still thought it was a fantasy, I was hooked. I was introduced to thoughts that were never in the realm of my imagination. And I liked it. However, I was not ready to admit this to Grant yet.

  I kept downloading more books. I looked for books without millionaires to help me relate to real people. During this time, Grant and I had more conversations as to what drove him to do what he did. I was beginning to feel more acceptance for what had transpired, especially since I knew I was now hooked on porn myself. But my addiction was paper porn, not video porn. It was a video all right, a video in my head, but there was no tape to watch.

  Meanwhile, I started my high-protein-low-to-no-carb diet. That was as soon as I was able to hold food down after the “cyber incident.” It has only been about two weeks since then, but I have already lost six pounds. I also started Zoe’s yoga DVD! This girl is nuts. This is not yoga; this is torture. If you have never tried yoga, don’t even think for one second that it is easy! Easy is one thing yoga is not, but I was determined, so I kept at it.

  In only two weeks and a lot of communication, I learned we were both to blame. Grant’s part was not communicating his needs to me. My part was not trusting him enough to try new things.

  ***

  It is another Friday night after a high school football game. It’s a little different now though. Grant is much more attentive. He is actually awake on the sofa socializing with the kids and I until it is time for them to go to bed.