The Commitment Ch. 02

This is a repost of a 2008 story that has been re-edited.

There is no sex in this story. Sorry.

***

I first met Jean at the diner where I had lunch every day. She was bright and cheerful and I looked forward to seeing her. Jean was a pretty girl and popular. She was the type of girl that I would not normally even think about dating. I was a large, though not fat, plain-looking, heavy equipment operator, and she was "Miss Personality". I never thought I would have a chance to date a girl like her, much less marry one. It was painful for me, trying to work up the nerve to ask her out. Rejection would crush me, even though I was used to it. Eventually, I did ask her out for a date and she accepted.

For several years, Jean had been going with a guy named Ray Cotton. It appeared that she and Ray were very close, but somewhere along the line, he lost interest in her and just disappeared. She was heartbroken for a long time and I was sort of picking her up on the rebound. I didn't know if that was good or bad. I didn't care since I was just happy with the way things worked out.

The dates we went on were very unexciting. I had no experience at all doing this sort of thing and was super careful not to make any mistakes that might ruin our relationship. Of course, I had never had sex with a girl or even done any serious petting, so I was clumsy as hell in that department. Eventually, with a lot of help from Jean, we did have sex. Everything I knew about it, I learned from Jean. I think I was a good student. I know I was enthusiastic. I was trying my best to meet any requirements that she might have in this arena. My only aim in life was to make her happy. It took me a long time to work up the courage to talk to her about marriage.

"Jean, would you consider, maybe, moving in with me or something like that?"

"John Simmons, are you asking me to shack up with you or marry you?"

"Whatever you feel comfortable with would be fine with me."

"Do you have a preference, John?"

"Well, yes. I'd like to have children and I think it would be better if we were married, but I don't want to rush you into anything."

"It's a big step, John. Can I have a few days to think about it?"

"Sure. I think you should take your time. It is a big decision."

That was not a good sign for me. I felt uncomfortable in the fact that she was not sure enough to give me a yes or no right away. I had no choice but to give her the time she wanted. Why did she have to think about it? I was unhappy with it but had no choice except to hope for the best.

Two days later Jean accepted my proposal of marriage.

We were married for fourteen years and had a son, Terry, and a daughter, Sarah. My work was going well and we had a comfortable house and lifestyle. I thought everything was perfect. All the anxieties that I had had earlier in our marriage were gone. I no longer felt that I was a second choice. Although we did not have a romantic life as they show in the movies or cheap novels, I still thought everything was fine.

This was when Jean started to act a little differently. It was nothing definite that I could put my finger on, but something was not right. Nothing was being neglected at home but I knew that things were not as they should be. A few times in the afternoon, I would call home just to chat. The kids were in school. Most of the time when I called, Jean did not answer the phone. She did her shopping once a week and now it seemed that she was shopping every day. She did not like shopping that much, whether it be for food or clothes. After about a week of this shit, I decided to do something.

I took a week off of work. I would leave in the morning and park down the street, out of sight. Jean would get in her car and drive down to the Super Mall. I watched from the parking lot and it was hours later till she came out and drove home. I spent three days doing this. The fourth day I followed her into the mall. She walked in the front and walked right out the back. I tried to follow her but it was too late. The next day, when she parked out front, I drove around the back of the mall and waited in an out-of-the-way spot. In a few minutes, Jean came out and walked over to a large yellow Hummer. She jumped into the passenger side and they left. I was not in a good enough position to follow and lost them right away.

My suspicions were confirmed. The worst thing that I could imagine happening, had happened. I was crushed. I have a temper and it was going to take everything in my power to keep from losing it. I had to remain calm about this whole thing. It was going to be rough. The kids and I were home on the weekends, so I was sure she was not meeting him then. I arranged to take the next week off from work. I don't know if I just wasted five days, or if it was five days well spent.

I kept my temper over the weekend. Monday morning, I parked behind the Super Mall at a place where I could see, but not be seen. I had borrowed a Ranger pickup from a friend at work. The Hummer arrived and with my trusty pair of binoculars, I got the plate number. I remembered which exit they had used from the mall lot, so I positioned myself near there. I did better this time. As they left the mall, I followed and within ten minutes they pulled into an apartment complex. They went into one of the buildings together. I had no intention at this time of going to his apartment, but I did have a lot of new information to process and some plans to make.

Of course, we all have friends in some position that can run a license plate for us. My wife's yellow Hummer belonged to Ray Cotton. What a surprise. After fourteen years of marriage, this son of a bitch shows up in my life again. My rage was building.

I spent the next day at home trying to figure out what to do. I had two wonderful children that had no idea that their mother was a slut. I didn't want them to find out. No matter what I did, it had to be done so that the children would not be hurt. I could make fear and rage work for me if I controlled my self. I was large enough and could be menacing if I had to be. Somehow or another, I had to end the affair and make it appear to the children that nothing had happened. Divorcing Jean at this point would not accomplish what I wanted. Killing Jean or Ray would not accomplish anything. I had to force Jean to stay and carry on as a wife and mother until the children both left for college. I decided to do it with fear and intimidation. This was not my real nature, but I had to try and make it believable. First, I had to get their attention.

My original plan was to put four sticks of dynamite under his Hummer and blow it up, when they weren't in it, of course. However, there are federal laws against this sort of thing and my being in jail would not help the situation. I decided that a smoke flare would get the same point across without putting me in jail. The local marine shop had a large variety of emergency smoke flares. All I had to do was figure out how to ignite one remotely. After several nights in the basement, I finally got it worked out using some remote control toy car components that Terry had outgrown. I was able to test it out easily, and the thing worked at over two hundred feet. I was sort of proud of my self. The week was over. Another week was coming up and I had to take some more time off from work.

The weekend went pretty well because now, I felt that I had control of the situation. Everything would be straightened out by the same time next week. Very early Sunday morning, I went over to Ray Cotton's apartment complex and quietly mounted my electrically operated smoke flare under his yellow Hummer. All I needed now was an opportune time to set it off.

The next day I was waiting by the Super Mall exit when they left. Instead of going to his apartment, they headed north. It was easy to follow them without being seen. They seemed to be so occupied with each other, that they wouldn't have noticed it if I was in a fire truck. They went to Lake Wenona, drove around to the back of the lake, and parked in a remote spot. I had no trouble staying out of sight because of the heavy brush. My old binoculars came in handy again, as I watched the two of them strip off their clothes and start groping each other. I picked up my cell phone and called Jean.

"Hello."

"Jean, this is John."

"Yes John, I recognize your voice."

"Where are you right now?"

She paused a second, not knowing what to say. She was a lousy liar.

"I'm in the parking lot at the Super Mall, John. Why?"

"Oh. Well, that's good to know Jean, because in ten seconds Ray Cotton's Hummer is going to explode in a big ball of fire. It sure is good you are not there."

"John, What did you say?"

"Ten, nine, eight, seven,"

I heard her drop the phone. "Get out! Get out of the car now. Quick."

Ray was startled. "What are you talking about? What is going on?"

She opened the door and jumped out, stark naked. Ray followed her, and they both ran away from the Hummer. I pressed the button on the remote control. There was a loud pop and orange smoke was billowing out from under the yellow monster truck. They were standing about fifty feet away from the smoking Hummer when I drove up in the pickup. I swung the passenger door open and told Jean to get in. I glared at Ray through the window, and said: "The next time I see you it will be at your funeral."

Neither one of us said a word on the long drive home. When we got to the house, I made her go from the driveway to the front door with no clothes on. She stood in the middle of the living room, afraid to move or say anything. I finally acknowledged her. "Go take a shower and put something on before the kids get home from school."

It was a stressful evening. We said nothing about any of it. Jean went to bed scared to death, and I slept on the sofa. Before I left for work, I took the queen size box spring and mattress out to my truck. When I came home from work I had two single beds and a few changes of linen to fit them. I put the beds together and Jean quietly put the new sheets on.

This continued for almost a week. One evening when the kids were away, Jean worked up the courage to talk to me.

"John, what is it that you want from me? What do you want me to do?"

I said nothing but paused from my reading a second. She offered no apology. She made no excuses. She did not whine or whimper. I could tell she was waiting for me to reply.

"My first impulse was to simply kill both of you. I was furious with what you did to the family and me. I was planning on just putting four sticks of dynamite under his truck, but then I thought of what that would do to the children. They would lose a mother and also a father. My revenge was not worth that. I put the marine flare there instead of the dynamite. I waited for you to end it, but you never did. I could stand it no longer. I am still mad and I am struggling with it every day. I don't know what I am capable of doing when I am in this state."

She sat quietly, listening to every word. She said nothing, and she was trying not to show any emotion. I continued.

"You will stay here in the house and act as mother and wife until both the children have left for college. You will perform all the duties of a wife and mother, except for the sex. That includes cooking, cleaning, laundry, shopping, and attending all social functions. At all times it must appear that we are a normal family. Neither of us will say anything to our families or friends about what happened. I will give you an allowance of $200 a month for your expenses and of course all the money you need to operate the household. The day Sarah leaves for college will also be the day of our divorce. I will give you half of the value of the house and half of our savings. I will give you no alimony."

It was like a prison sentence. I don't believe she knew how to respond. She sat there stunned. I assumed she was wondering why I didn't just throw her out and set her free or why I was putting her through this torture.

I continued: "I am doing this mainly for the kids. I want them to experience a normal childhood, and I will not let your infidelities screw up their lives. I am insisting on this Jean. There is nothing here to negotiate. I know this will sound very harsh and you will probably find it hard to accept, but please listen carefully to the last two conditions. They are very important."

I could tell she was a little worried but figured she could handle it.

"If you leave before your commitment is up, I will hunt you down and kill you. If you have any contact, at all, with Ray Cotton, I will hunt you down and kill both of you."

That was the fear and intimidation that I figured I needed to get her to go along with it. I had no intention of killing anyone but I couldn't let her know that.

Jean lived up to her part of the contract. For six years, she played the part of dutiful wife and loving mother. At no time did I have any complaints about her actions. I had hoped that as time went by she would offer some sort of explanation or apology. I got none. There was no remorse on her part. She never again said that she loved me or made any sign of wanting to resume any sort of loving relationship. I was looking for something. I was hoping for something. Nothing came. Although she accomplished all of her duties, her attitude never changed and there was never any show of affection again. This just seemed to make me a little bitter.

About three months before the end of the commitment, I was working in Lancaster when I noticed an article in the local newspaper. A man named Ray Cotton was shot dead at a local motel as he was having sex with another man's wife. I felt a tinge of satisfaction as I read about it. Just on a whim, I took some time and went down to the local police station. Ray's Hummer had been towed to the police impound lot until it could be picked up by his next of kin. They gave me the name and number of Ray's brother who lived in York. I called him up and was able to work out a deal to buy the hummer for less than fair market value. He didn't want it and having to deal with it was a pain in the ass to him.

Jean had saved money out of her expense account that I had given her. What she didn't know was that I was also putting money aside that was leftover each month from the household expense fund. I had estimated how much would be necessary to run the household, and if anything was left, I saved it. I took money from that fund to pay for the Hummer.

As we got closer to Jean's final days at our home, she found a small cottage to rent. She had moved some of her things to the cottage and was going to take what was left in the car with her when she moved out. The night before her last day, I had the big ugly yellow Hummer parked in the driveway of her rented cottage. On the driver's seat, I placed the new car title in her name and a copy of the newspaper article explaining the demise of Ray Cotton. I was sure she would be happy to see the Hummer when she arrived at her new home. It was a little thing, but I felt she deserved it.