The Anatomy of Cheating: A Novel

by Nesly Clerge

  She’d tried to shed the weight. But it seemed the more effort she made, the more the pounds and inches increased. Bouts of depression hadn’t helped. Then she’d caught Garrett cheating on her again, this time with the young, exotic nurse who’d worked at the hospital only a few months. This discovery had sent her to depths she still had no idea how to ascend from.

  During the rare times they went places together, his attempts to hide his ogling of other women failed. Garrett’s attention landed on women who were young, slim yet curvy. Gorgeous. Sensuality oozed from them. Like nectar to a horny bee whose stinger stayed ready.

  How easy it was for those women. They hadn’t had a child. Or a husband who cheated on them. They didn’t live every moment in a battle with inconsolable pain, anger, and frustration caused by betrayal.

  Once, at fourteen, she’d overheard her mother say to someone on the phone, If you catch them one time, they probably did it a hundred times before they got caught. How many times Garrett had cheated, and with how many women, was the question that dogged her.

  How long had it been since he’d told her she was desirable, that he couldn’t wait to have his way with her? Years. Nearly sixteen, in fact.

  The only compliment she heard from him these days was about her skills in the kitchen. That is, when he managed to be there for a meal; though, it was more a matter of his occasionally deigning to grace her with his presence.

  There was a time when Garrett admired and adored her. Now, she wasn’t even sure he still loved her. If he refused to make love to her, as he had for so long, what choice did she have but to find solace in food?

  Her appearance was his fault.

  The marriage counselor had advised her to put Garrett’s infidelities in the past. To trust his promise that he’d never cheat again. How did either man expect her to do that?

  This impossible expectation led to her stop the sessions after four months. Hearing week after week after week that she was at fault, rather than Garrett, had been intolerable. And grossly unfair. Having male genitalia shouldn’t guarantee entitlement.

  Garrett swore he was keeping his promise. She desperately wanted to believe him. To forgive him. But the images that ran on a loop in her mind prevented her from doing that. How could she forgive what she couldn’t forget?

  She studied the features of her face in the mirror.

  I’m still beautiful. A few extra pounds do not classify me as unappealing. I am sexy. I am desirable. I am …

  The first tear trailed down her cheek. Staggering to the bed, she burrowed under the silk-covered duvet and wept.

  Her cell phone rang. She checked the name on the screen. “Richard.” She sniffed. “You’re so intuitive.”

  “What’s he done now?”

  CHAPTER 9

  Luke Thompson pocketed the generous tip left on the table by a couple of regulars, loaded the dishes onto a tray and took them into the kitchen.

  Restaurant manager, James West, leaned against a counter. He took a sip of espresso from a demitasse cup. “How about we hit a bar after work. Pop back a few beers.”

  “I’ll take a rain check for the weekend. I want to get some writing done tonight.”

  “How’s the new book going?”

  “Some writing days are better than others.”

  “That’s why you need a break. C’mon, dude. Two brews at the most.”

  Luke shook his head. “Saturday’s better.”

  “Brandi won’t bitch?”

  “I’ll tell her I’m working late.”

  James held up his cup in salute. “That’s the spirit.”

  He’d met James at college and formed a solid friendship, for which he was grateful. Only a true friend would accompany a guy to court when he was getting divorced. That day a few years ago had been dismal, appropriately effected by a thunder storm in true novel-like fashion.

  After leaving the courthouse, James had dragged him to a nearby bar, not that there had been much dragging to do. He’d been ready to indulge, ready do whatever to numb the hurt that twisted his gut, even for a few hours.

  “It’s over, dude,” James had said. He’d drained the last of his beer from the bottle then gestured for the bartender to bring another round. “Two frickin’ years to finally end this crap. No more back and forth with lawyers.”

  “Now, it’s just a matter of paying them.”

  “Still. It must feel pretty damn good.”

  “It should, but it doesn’t.”

  “Aren’t you relieved?”

  “That’ll probably come later. Right now, I’m—I guess devastated—is the word. Conflicted.”

  “Dude, you know I’m straight. But you’re a six-foot good-looking black man with a rock for a body. How can you be devastated or conflicted? That’s a waste of energy. Think of all the women who are gonna be eager to play ride the Pogo Stick with you. You’re free and clear. A prime candidate for quality sympathy nookie.”

  Luke shook his head. “You know I’m with Brandi.”

  “If you like her, keep her. But don’t blow this opportunity.”

  “Infidelity led to my divorce.”

  James downed a third of his beer. “You had to divorce Tina. Man can’t have a tramp for a wife.”

  Luke glared at his friend then softened his expression. “That may be what she is, but I’d prefer if you didn’t call her that.”

  “I get it. You had that great kid of yours together, so you want to show her some respect. But you gotta call a spade a spade. You gave her seven years, and she expressed her gratitude by cheating on you.”

  “And in retaliation, I cheated on her, as though payback would solve anything.”

  “Nothing wrong with a man dipping in some honey here and there.”

  “Not my nature, James. You know me well enough by now to know that. Infidelity destroyed my family.”

  “Maybe you’re fooling yourself. Maybe you always had the urge, and Tina taking care of hers first was the permission slip you convinced yourself you needed. Got an urge, satisfy it. That’s my creed.”

  “It was a one-time thing, and I’m a one-woman guy. I know that doesn’t sit right with you, but it is what it is.” Luke turned his beer bottle in half circles. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “I understand just fine. Since you have a problem doing the horizontal with more than one woman, pass the beauties my way when they start lining up for some Luke lovin’. I can come out of my state of monotonous monogamy for a little while.”

  “Since when do you live in that state?”

  “Guilty.” James chuckled and grabbed a few pretzels from the bowl between them. He tossed one of the twists into his mouth, chewed and said, “You telling me you love Brandi?”

  Luke exhaled hard. “I loved Tina, and look how that turned out. From now on, I’m looking for compatibility with someone I can spend the rest of my life with. Love isn’t what it used to be. All our married friends but Nara are divorced.”

  “Doesn’t count. Nara’s Indian. Arranged marriage, dude.”

  “Proves my point. He didn’t love Danu when he married her, but his parents knew they were compatible. He learned to love her, and she, him.”

  “Personally, I think Brandi’s just filling a void. There are other women with voids you could fill, if you’d get over yourself.”

  “Brandi cares about me. About us.”

  “Better watch out. Longer you stay with her, the more she’s gonna want from you. Smartest move I made was to stay detached after my divorce. Got all the rampant lust out of my system. Took a few years before I was ready to settle down. I’m a married man now, but I ain’t dead.”

  Luke grinned and shook his head. “You’d have sex with an alien if she had breasts, a nice ass, and a place to stick your prong in.”

  “Damn straight. I’m into the unusual.”

  “You’re what women call a dog, James. Keep your unusual. Brandi’s right for me.”

  “One word: rebound.”


  “You’re wrong.”

  “I’m telling you the way it is. It’s a new relationship. Salve for your wounds and all that jazz.”

  “It’s not that new. It’s been a year.”

  “When that shine wears off, you’ll see the real woman. The woman the rest of us see and you don’t.”

  “Again, you’re wrong.”

  “I’m telling it to you straight: there’s an expiration date on that relationship.”

  “Brandi and I know each other. You’re not seeing anything about her that I haven’t.”

  “Believe that if you want to. But what happens when she starts pressing you to get married?”

  “She won’t.”

  “Bet on it.”

  “Brandi knows marriage isn’t part of the deal. At least, not for a while. If ever.”

  “You think you’re ready for a serious relationship, but you’re not. The ink’s still drying on your divorce decree. If you were ready, you wouldn’t be so morose. You’d have wanted to run home to Brandi and celebrate your freedom between her legs instead of getting drunk with me.” James got the bartender’s attention and held up two fingers. “Question is, Why didn’t you?”

  “I can’t tell her how I feel right now. It would upset her.”

  “And, what if she wants a kid, or more than one, then the relationship goes bust? Which it will.”

  Luke swigged his beer and stayed silent.

  “Face facts, dude. She’s mid-thirties, never married. She wasn’t going to blow her chances by pushing for a ring before your divorce. It’s just a matter of time. You watch. Then, again, maybe you really are the kind that needs to be married. Maybe you feel too old to be single, much less horny.”

  “I’m only forty-two.”

  “I rest my case.”

  James had been right. A few months after his divorce, Brandi’s hints started gradually. Then she made the subject of marriage a never-ending one. It was something she yearned for, something she convinced him was right for them both. A year after his divorce, he’d obliged her.

  CHAPTER 10

  Luke inched the Ford Focus along his street, noting how much the neighborhood resembled the one he’d lived in with Tina, as though repetition was impossible to escape.

  Although their relationship had imploded, he missed aspects of it, mostly living with his son, Tim. There were times—more times than he wanted to admit—he wished he could wind the clock back and be in that life again, flawed as it was. Life with Brandi had an unreal feel to it, as though it was an imitation or substitute for something tangible and solid that eluded him. He felt it in his bones.

  He pulled into his driveway, turned the engine off and remained in his car. The day of his divorce, he’d told James compatibility was enough. He was no longer certain about that. It wasn’t that he missed Tina, so what was it? The answer came to him in a flash, like a sentence for one of his novels: It had been a crushing end of the dream he’d had for his family and his life. It wasn’t easy to go through the mourning of that loss or to get over it as fast as a person might prefer or others might think he should.

  He’d wanted a stable home for Tim, with loving parents there for him, as he’d had. That desired outcome had ended as soon as he’d learned Tina was raising her skirt and dropping her panties for other men. It was a thread that got pulled. The beginning of the unraveling for all of them.

  Worry robbed him of sleep, worry that his sporadic time with Tim might cause his son to go the way of his cousin Jimmy. Jimmy’s family had also dissolved. He took up with the wrong crowd at an early age, got suspended from school then expelled. Now he was serving a life sentence.

  Most of his own friends from one-parent homes were occupying cells.

  James, of course, had taken a different path. His lust for women had saved him. Always too busy screwing to commit a crime.

  Luke snickered, released his seatbelt, and got out of his car. He exhaled hard as he unlocked the front door to his small two-story wood frame house and stepped inside.

  CHAPTER 11

  Brandi grabbed a clean platter from the dishwasher and glanced at Luke when he entered the kitchen. “Hi, honey.”

  He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Hi, sweetheart. What’s going on?”

  “You got three more letters from literary agents. There, on the counter.“ She pointed with her chin.

  “No doubt, more to add to my rejection collection, along with the electronic ones I’ve saved for posterity.” It took no more than the first couple of sentences of each one-paragraph letter to confirm his expectation. “Sometimes I wonder if I should give up.”

  “Why won’t you consider something more stable? Maybe it’s time, or past time, to stop writing and working part-time. Get an actual job.”

  “I wait tables thirty hours a week. That’s almost full-time. It gives me time to write.”

  “I don’t know how you stay focused, much less enthusiastic, after being rejected so often. I also don’t get working so hard on something for nothing.”

  “I don’t write to make money.”

  Brandi cocked her head. “If you’re not doing it for money, then you definitely need to give it up. End all the frustration. For both of us.”

  “Writing is like oxygen for me. I thought you understood that. I love exploring the human psyche. How people think. How they act and react, and why.”

  “What’s to figure out? You know it when you see it. Give me numbers any day, not words about pretend people and situations. The accountant’s life is fiction enough for me. Believe me, I learn a lot in my business about people and what they make up.”

  Luke shook his head. “Words inspire. They evoke feelings and provoke thought. The right words can give people vicarious experiences they’d never want to have in real life. Or make them laugh, or give them strength to make it another day.”

  “Change ‘the right words’ for ‘the right numbers’ and then you’ll have something to give you strength.” Brandi placed the letters in the drawer half-filled with similar messages. “It would be nice if those words you love paid more of the bills. All those hours in front of your computer. Multiply them by even twenty dollars and we could afford a better home and lifestyle.”

  “I’m trying to explain why I write, why it matters so much to me, but this conversation seems to be going nowhere fast.”

  “You’re right.” Brandi wrapped her arms around his waist. “I don’t want to argue. What I want is a date night. We haven’t had one in a long time. Get dressed. We’re dining out. But first, give me a kiss.”

  The kiss Luke gave her was adequate, rather than the passionate kind exchanged in the earlier days of their relationship. He wondered if she even noticed.

  Brandi stroked his cheek. “Maybe I fuss sometimes. But you know I love you, right?”

  Luke searched for the truth in her eyes. “Do you really?”

  She punched him playfully on the arm. “Stop kidding around and get dressed.”

  He started toward the stairs that led up to their bedroom.

  “Luke.”

  He turned and waited.

  “You love me too, right?”

  Luke smiled, realizing that the gesture occupied the pause that shouldn’t have been there. “What do you think?”

  Brandi grinned. “Hurry and dress. I’m starving.”

  Only one of them was satisfied with his answer.

  CHAPTER 12

  Late the next afternoon, Luke switched on his laptop computer. His hand hovered over the keyboard as he pleaded for better results to whomever might be in the mood to grant wishes. Months ago, having grown weary waiting for a literary agent to be interested in one or all three of his novels, he chose the indie route. His patience had faltered as he dreamed of an agent contacting him to state he’d waited his entire career for such a writer. He was far too eager to get his writing out for the world to consume, even if only one e-book or print copy at a time.

  He logged onto his Amazon account
to check the sales rankings for his books. All three ranked above seven hundred thousand. Equivalent to selling one e-book a month, and so far, resulting in a royalty of a whopping eight dollars and thirty-seven cents.

  His Goodreads account revealed one friend request from a Chelsea Hall, which he accepted, and one new review from a different person who’d given his third and latest novel three stars. He browsed some of the best-selling authors’ pages, barely suppressing the envy that threatened to surface in reaction to their hundreds of rave reviews and thousands of five-star ratings.

  Perhaps Brandi was right. He should quit writing and get a full-time job. His degree in English was nothing more than a framed bit of paper on the wall, unless he could land a teaching job. It wouldn’t make him rich, but would give him a decent income and get Brandi off his back about money. The positive would be he’d have summers off to write.

  Who was he kidding? It wouldn’t be enough time, not the time he needed, and he knew it.

  Deep in thought, the knock on the front door startled him. He was nearly to the door when he heard Tim yell, “It’s me, Dad,” hours earlier than his expected seven o’clock arrival.

  Luke shook his head. Tina didn’t follow any schedule but her own. She wasn’t bothered by defying the court-specified agreement or causing disruption in other peoples’ lives. He should be used to it by now, but he could hear James telling him to grow some balls and insist Tina do the right thing. Telling Tina what to do was equal to spitting into the wind.

  Luke unlocked and opened the door. He grabbed Tim’s bag and said, “Come in, son. Shoes off, please.”

  Tim removed his runners and aimed straight for the kitchen, brushing by Brandi as though she were invisible.

  “Hello, Tim,” Brandi said. She waited for acknowledgment that didn’t come.

  Luke frowned. This again. “When an adult speaks to you, Tim, you answer. Politely. When Brandi speaks to you, you answer promptly.”