Learning Lessons: A Losing His Wife Novel

by KT Morrison

  Another one.

  Ah, look at this one. Feel the burn. Tyler with his arm around Petey. His other arm flexed in a huge muscular display, abs crunched. Petey doing the same with his skinny little seven-year-old arm.

  “Tyler’s so strong, Dad, we went—”

  “I know he is, Petey, I know.”

  Click.

  Aw, she snapped a picture of Tyler when he wasn’t looking. Jess taking the picture when Tyler was turned away from her, three quarter profile. Yes, he was a stud. Yes, she should take a picture. His big tattooed shoulder, his eyes cast down, pensive. Taking this picture just for herself.

  “Hey, Jess, there’s nothing here, you know, coming up, maybe the boys shouldn’t see?”

  “What? No, Pete.”

  He turned and saw her blushing. He had her sweating. This was wrong. He looked at Petey, he was just wanting to see pictures of the fun he had at the water park. Pete looked back at Jess, saw she was mad. Her lips clenched, her eyes a little wet but squinted.

  Maybe one more.

  Click.

  There it was. The knife in his heart.

  A selfie, Jess’s hand holding her phone to take a picture of herself with Tyler. Their attractive faces filling up the frame, beaming. Her cheek pressed firmly against his, their flesh flattening into each other. Big white smiles on both of them. She looked so happy.

  “Ungh,” he groaned out loud. “Ah, don’t they look good together?”

  Petey said, “Yeah.”

  “Oh, boy,” Pete said.

  “What’s wrong, Dad?”

  “I’m fine, Petey,” he said, his voice breathy, hoarse. “I think I’ve seen...here, Petey, take the remote, you can flip through.”

  Pete got himself off the couch, headed up to the kitchen. Jess watched him, watched him as he walked right past her. She followed him into the kitchen and stood behind him as he leaned on the counter, trying to catch his breath.

  “You’re such an asshole doing that to me.”

  “I’m the asshole?” he said quietly. “I’m the asshole? For doing this to you?”

  “Doing that in front of the boys, Pete? Don’t drag them into this.”

  “Jess, I looked at pictures of you and the boys and what you did together today. Things you did today...” He turned, said, “Things you did in front of them.” Raising his voice a little.

  She watched him, her arms folded across her chest.

  “I don’t want to fight, Jess, and I don’t want to do anything in front of the boys. It’s just killing me that you’re not seeing what you’re doing.”

  “I’m not using the boys against you, Pete, not like you just did.”

  “Yes, Jess, you are. That’s why we’re in this...” he threw his arms up, “...this mess. I like you to hurt me and you’re getting better and better at it. Now you can’t even see it when you do it.”

  He wasn’t getting through to her, he knew it. Could see it in her tense face. She didn’t like the humiliation going her way. It only went one way around here. That was fair enough. He wanted it, asked for it. Even now, part of him loved this. But another cold, shivering piece of him, cowering in the dark, was feeling very, very scared. He didn’t like where this could go. Where it was going. It was more fun when he had his arm around her, when she was his Jess and his Jess alone. When it was a superficial humiliation, a safe fun game that tickled his emotions. But every minute Jess’s big boyfriend stayed this was getting more and more real.

  Part VI

  Always Hungry

  19

  Admission

  Wednesday, November 9th

  Jess wasn’t really talking to him and it was breaking his heart. Maybe he’d gone too far trying to make his point. Not speaking to him was punishment he couldn’t take. She could do any dirty thing to another man she wanted but if she shut him out—for thirty-six hours now—it would kill him.

  He watched her as she worked at the kitchen counter. The boys were sitting with Pete finishing their breakfast at the kitchen table. Andy was giving Sargent the crusts of his toast. Jess was beautiful even at her worst. She had her glasses on, she was worn looking, tired, her hair clipped up on the top of her head in a messy nest of jagged hair ends. He wanted so badly to put his arms around her right now. To come up behind her and hug her, feel her warm body against his, the soft flannel cotton of her nightdress under the palms of his hands as he ran them over her waist.

  She’d been cold with him all day yesterday. Just like this morning. Then at night everyone could tell she was mad about something. She didn’t really talk at the table. After dinner she sat at her desk in the living room and graded papers. She came in to the family room at around nine and sat next to Tyler. She wasn’t mad at him, they seemed fine for the most part. It was like he understood what was going on. Pete wondered if she’d discussed it with him. Tyler had stayed out of the way and Pete was thankful for that. He wasn’t mad anymore about them spending the day together but he was still a little stung. It was nice of him not to rub his face in it.

  Here they were this morning, and Jess was still as distant. He couldn’t take it. He couldn’t bear the thought of going to work all day today without knowing she was okay again. Jess had the loaf of bread out, eight slices laid out on the counter. Four ham sandwiches for her family. She spread out the mayonnaise on three slices, plopped down sheets of meat, then unwrapped the cheese singles. Her face was blank, distant. She got them put together, wrapped each one in a sheet of wax paper. The boys’ into their colourful lunch boxes with a banana and a juice box, Pete’s into a brown bag with an apple. Then she cut up a cooked chicken breast and tossed it into a Tupperware filled with vegetables for Tyler he figured. Too much food for Jess to consume at one sitting that was for sure.

  What was Tyler doing today? Why would she make his lunch? Maybe she made it for him every day and Pete was just noticing for the first time. Tyler ate specific things, he could at least go to the trouble of making his own meals. The last thing Pete would do this morning would be to mention that. It would not go over well. He would just let Jess do whatever she wanted. Make him a three-course-meal for all he cared. Just goddamn talk to me, baby.

  “Lunch is in the fridge,” she mumbled to him coldly as she passed by, heading to the laundry room.

  A wave of regret, dread, unhappiness came over him, weighed across his shoulders, made him hunch. This was something he couldn’t stand.

  He got up, pushed his stool back, swigged his coffee, finished it.

  “Hey boys, you should get out now, go wait for the bus, I’ll be out in a minute.”

  “Okay, Dad.”

  “Petey, you hold your brother’s hand.”

  “I know, Dad.”

  He watched Petey in the hall, helping Andy get his coat on. Then they went out into the cold.

  Pete stepped into the doorway of the laundry room and watched Jess from behind as she pulled laundry out of the dryer and laid it across the top.

  “Hey, Jess?”

  “What?” she said, head still in the dryer.

  “Uh, Jacob and Tammy are staying on Friday, I was wondering—do you want to do something special with them and the boys? Should we, I don’t know, have a theme night or something?”

  “Like what?” she said, grabbing a pair of jeans from the top of the pile and folding them.

  “I don’t know...” This wasn’t going as smoothly as he’d hoped.

  “Whatever you want, Pete.”

  “Maybe we could do a movie night, order some pizzas, throw a mini-party... Just have fun, some family time. I think we need that right now.”

  Jess had a pair of Tyler’s jeans flattened out on her table, smoothing out the crotch of his pants.

  “I want Tyler to be there too. He’s welcome, I mean.”

  She chuckled, shook her head a little then folded up the pants.

  Petey and Andy were outside yelling like monsters or something and they both looked out and saw them next to the swing set, An
dy chasing his bigger brother.

  “Why are they out playing in the yard? It’s so cold out there.”

  “They’re supposed to be waiting for the bus.”

  “It’s a little early for the bus, Pete.”

  “I was worried you might yell at me so I told them to go out.”

  “When have I ever yelled at you, Pete?”

  “I know, we’re just in a weird place.”

  “What makes you say that?” she said. She was smirking. They were in the most ridiculous place a couple could find themselves. He still couldn’t believe this was happening. He was caught in some cuckold nightmare where every dirty fantasy was a bedroom door away but he was so scared now to engage with it, so frightened to let it happen in case he got swept away. But every part of him ached to see his wife with Tyler again. Just naked, just sex, seeing her in ecstasy.

  “I’m sorry, Jess. Sorry I went through the pictures off your phone. Sorry I did it. And I’m sorry I did it with the boys there.”

  “Look Pete, we're in a crazy spot, all right? I know that. Believe me, I know that. But you’re saying I did something to hurt the boys and that makes me mad. The boys had a great day, they really did. It was no big deal. I know the pictures... Look, I just know, okay? But what you did was dangerous.”

  “Jess.”

  “You tried to use my boys against me...” She could feel her eyes well up, she pushed it away.

  “Jess, I couldn’t be more sorry.”

  There was more but she didn't know how to tell him. Something she felt guilty about. It wasn't that she’d taken the boys, brought Tyler along; there was something else that could have happened, could have hurt the boys and it would have been her fault. Pete would have done it and she could yell at him all she wanted but the truth was that she was responsible. If Pete went far back enough in her photos he would have found something. The boys could have seen it. The picture she’d taken laying in bed with Tyler that amazing afternoon. Before Pete came home early and discovered them. Tyler hovering over her, beautiful in the afternoon sun, that muscular body looked like a painting the way the light danced on his hard edges. There was more than his body in that picture. God, she would have died. She would have killed Pete first, but she would never have recovered from that. It didn’t happen, not even really close, the photo was weeks old now. But it could have.

  She felt her lips tremble and the more she struggled to keep it together the more they wriggled and twisted.

  “Oh, please, Jess, don’t ever cry, honey. Please, I can’t take it.” He moved around to her and he hugged her. She let him. She left her arms at her sides but she let him hold her and it felt good.

  “We can have a fun night with Tammy and Jacob,” she whispered.

  “Yeah?”

  She could be mad at him all she wanted but she had to realize he wasn’t wrong. And there was a lot she had to be held accountable for as well. She had to let him off the hook. It just wasn’t fair to put it all on him. They both had some growing up to do.

  “Yeah. Let’s make our own pizzas though, okay? We can get a bunch of ingredients and the kids can make their own disgusting combinations. We’ll watch some movies...”

  He hugged her to him, she could feel his elation at her letting it go and it made her feel better too. He said, “I mean it, I want Tyler there as well, okay? I do mean it.”

  “Yeah, I know. He’ll be there, Petey. He lives here, come on, we can’t exclude him.”

  He stepped back from her, nodded. She could see his eyes were a little puffy and red looking too. He held her hands in his and looked at her. “I’m glad, Jess, I’m glad.”

  “Glad for what, Petey?”

  “For you. For everything.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “Yeah,” he said a little too quickly, a little too desperate to let her know. “I am. I’m happy for you.”

  Jess had her head in the dryer, was looking for one of Pete’s black dress socks that didn’t seem to have made it out to the hamper, when she thought he’d come up behind her again. She snagged the missing sock between her index and middle finger, pulled it out of the seam of one of the dryer’s tumblers and stood up.

  It was Tyler.

  She couldn’t stop a little smile despite how bothered she felt this morning. He looked so good even first thing in the morning. His young tight face, his thick brown hair sticking up, tousled, messy, like she’d just made love with him. You could see blonde bits in it when the light hit it right. He was sleepy looking, devilish.

  “Good morning,” she smiled, lowered her eyes and turned her back to him, got back to folding on the top of the washing machine.

  He put his thick arms around her and hugged her to his chest

  “What are you doing?” she said.

  “Mm. Good morning,” he said and she felt him kiss her neck and breathe her in.

  “Tyler, don’t. I haven’t even showered,” she said.

  “You look fucking amazing.”

  “Oh my God, is that your cock?” she laughed, looking down to see what was so hard pressing into the small of her back. “You’re hard as a rock.” She looked up at him smiling, bewildered.

  “What do you expect, you walking around in the mornings without a bra? Makes me think bad things,” he said, hugging her tight, his hands grasping at her bare breasts under her flannel nightie.

  “We can’t, Tyler, the boys are right here,” she said, nodding to the window where they could see Andy and Petey outside bundled up in their jackets.

  “They’re outside. They’re not coming back in. Andy’ll stay with Petey until the bus comes. We can see them,” he said, kissing at her neck and her collar. His right hand went up under her nightshirt and his fingers started to pull her panties down. He pressed his hardness into her, she could feel its wide belly push between her cheeks, the firm tip scraping up her lower back.

  “Pete’s still home.”

  “We’ll put on a show for him. He’d beg to watch what I’m about to do to you.”

  His hand peeled her panties down, pinching the soft flesh of her thighs, then slid between her cheeks and across to her front.

  “Oh,” she gasped, “Tyler, we can’t. Stop it.”

  His thick fingers forced her apart, pushing her soft mound wide and digging into her sensitive sex.

  “Tyler, don’t.” She didn’t want to, not like this. Not with the boys right there and not in the mood she was in. But she leaned forward and she put her elbows on the top of the washing machine.

  He worked through her sex roughly, spreading and rubbing until she heard her own wet sounds. His fingers slipped across her slick lips and found her little soft button. It made her gasp.

  “You’re awfully wet for a woman who doesn’t want it.”

  She groaned and closed her eyes. She felt his erection pressing against her.

  “Why are you so hard?”

  “I told you. I can’t live in a house where there’s a hot little fuck machine, not wake up throbbing, looking to sink it inside her. I’ve been laying in bed thinking about you.” His fingers worked along her, sliding up and down her wet opening, she felt his thumb probing higher, up near a place she wasn’t sure she wanted him to go. “You know how incredible you are? How incredible you look? Walking around with these bare fucking legs. Asking for it.”

  His middle finger sunk slowly inside her and she inhaled, her eyebrows lifting right up into her hairline. He had her up onto her tippy toes, tilting her little rump out to him, wanting it. “Oh, T-Tyler,” she whispered.

  The tip of his big thumb was probing again, touching her and prodding, testing to see if she would let it pass into her dirty spot.

  “No, don’t,” she said, “not there.”

  Her hand came up and clawed clumsily at the vertical blinds on the small laundry room window that looked out onto the side yard. She could see the boys out there, still horsing around on the swing set. “Just give me that big cock,” she said.

 
“That’s my girl,” he said.

  He spit in his hand, stroked himself, bent at the knees and lined himself up. She bent herself over. Got higher on her toes and spread her legs. His hands pulled her nightshirt up, exposed her, bunched it up around her waist. His glans was firmly inside her ring, she gripped it and waited for his plunge. He adjusted his feet and she felt his swollen round cock head swirl around and it gave her a crazy thrill, her heart skipped a beat and before she could recover he sunk his long thick shaft deep inside her and she couldn’t stifle the awkward painful breathy moan that escaped her. Her hands came up and clawed at the cupboards where she kept the extra detergent and fabric softener. His huge cock slid in, stretching and burning, ripping her sleep-tightened sex wide apart. “Ah, oh, Tyler,” she cried, “oh, fuck.”

  “You like that?” he hissed into her ear as he buried it in her.

  “You feel like hot steel, baby—what’s got into you?”

  “I just can’t stop thinking about you, Jess.”

  “Fuck me,” she whispered.

  He was slow, working it in and out of her and letting her get herself accustomed, let her tight insides relax on him, accept him. She pushed her thighs and hips into the metal of the washing machine, felt the handle press into her soft flesh. She squeezed herself against it and let him find a good pace.

  “You are one goddamn amazing woman, you know that?” he had himself wet from her now and he wasn’t interested in going slow. He was here in this room to fuck her.

  “Ah,” she gasped and she braced herself to him, let him take her little hole by force, plunge it deep into her and then right back out.

  “Look at all you’ve got, all you do. Look who you are. You’re so fucking perfect, Jess.”

  His strong hands clawed at her chest while he pounded her, her nipples strained against the fabric. She could see their thick, hard shape pressing tightly against the cotton, stretching through it as Tyler’s grip tightened on her. Her small hands went over the backs of his, helped him find her erect nipples, she used his hands to squeeze them.