The Healer

29 June

Mike

My hotel room smelled like crap, I smelled like crap, and unsurprisingly I looked like crap. Oh, and I felt like crap. Come to think of it, crap pretty much described my whole life right at the moment. I mean, what sort of fucking moron gets ripped off by a prostitute? And how in the hell was I going to tell Deb? During my emotional wallow I thought out all the options but none of them ended good. My inability to deal with the morass I'd created caused an inward collapse and I'd not been able to leave the room after my stupid dick ruined my life. I'd called in sick to cover myself at work but knew that hotel management would come down if housekeeping didn't come in to clean the room today. The reality of that forced a decision to take the privacy tag off the outside door handle. I started straightening up a little but knew that the housekeeper was in for a shock. Vomit, dirty clothes, body odor, old room service trays with half-eaten meals infused the air with a funk that even I could smell. And as I already mentioned my physical appearance matched that of the room and quite truthfully, so did my brain.

I'd only managed to pick up a few things when the housekeeper knocked on the door. I stepped over quickly and pulled the door open behind me without looking back to see the housekeeper, mainly because I was embarrassed.

"I'm sorry about the mess, I haven't been feeling well. I'll give you a hand with some of this."

"Mike?"

You know that feeling that washes over you when you realize something really bad has just happened? The one where ice water seems to get injected in your brain and then shoots downward through your whole body and freezes you in place and time seems to stop? Yeah? Well that's what happened to me. Instantly I knew it was Deb and the word 'shit' blasted into my consciousness at least a half-dozen times.

Authors Note: Did you know that in virtually all aircraft crashes the last thing the pilot says before impact is the word 'shit'? The reason they know that is because of cockpit voice recorders and apparently most people say it right before an accident that they see coming. I wonder what it is about that word that it's said so universally? In any case, Mike is up to his neck in it right at the moment.

"Mike! Are you okay?"

God this can't be happening! Fuck! I wanted to run away or hide under a rock. What was I going to say? Well the being sick excuse was a good fallback and I slowly turned around, feigning weakness from being ill. I even tossed in a little cough.

"Oh hey babe! I'm so shocked to see you. What are you doing here?"

"I asked you a question Michael!"

"Uh, oh, um yeah, I mean no. I've uh, been sick."

"Sick? What's wrong?"

"I uh, think maybe it's the flu. I've been throwing up."

"Throwing up? Why are all these trays of food in here then? And champagne? You don't drink champagne except when I want some. This doesn't make sense. What's going on?"

Deb headed for a pile of trays and picked up one of the champagne flutes.

"What the hell Mike! Why is there lipstick on this glass?!"

My mind went into a spin. This was all falling apart faster than a sand castle in a tsunami and that epic tidal wave crashed over me and swept me out to sea. I just couldn't deal with it anymore and fell to my knees and blurted out the whole sordid story in one continuous sentence. In between sobs I told her I was sorry and wished it had never happened. Then I threw up. Deb stood in stunned silence for what seemed like an eternity. Then she exploded.

"What the fucking hell?! You fucked a whore and the cunt has the watch I bought for you? A whore Mike!! A whore?!? Do you even give a rats ass about me and our marriage you asshole?! Goddamn you!!" She turned, threw the door open and stomped out.

"Deb wait!! Please don't go! Can't we talk?"

"Shut the fuck up and don't follow me Mike!"

The door closed before my name was out of her mouth. The room was deathly silent except for the hum of the air conditioner. I sat on my knees for at least an hour, staring at the vomit on the carpet in front of me.

7 July

Deb

The easiest thing for me to do after the fiasco of the surprise visit was to throw myself into my work. No breaks and no lunch and twelve hour days. But there was a downside. Nearly all my assignments were done and I was running out of things to do. I had blown Jen off a number of times by stating how busy I was. She stopped at my cube and her body language said that she wasn't just stopping to say hi.

"Okay, I don't know what's going on Deb but you don't have to be a rocket scientist to see that's something's wrong. So what gives?"

"Nothing's wrong Jen, like I said, I've got tons of work and I'm just tired. That's all."

Jen folded her arms and stared at me sternly.

"Bullshit!"

"No really. I'm fine."

"Double bullshit with a topping of liar, liar, pants on fire! I'm not moving until you spit it out."

You'd think I'd feel tears coming on but all I felt was anger.

"Fine Jen. Mike and I had a fight and things are really bad between us. I guess I do need someone to talk to."

"Do you want to meet at O'Malley's for happy hour?"

"Sure, why not."

"Yeesh! No need to sound so enthused about it."

"Sorry Jen. I'm just not myself, yes that would be very nice. I'll meet you there."

"Sounds good, see you then!"

The rest of the day passed in a blur of fog and I got to the bar quite a while before Jen. It was a popular place with no shortage of professional men on the prowl and I was enjoying the attention of a few of them and the free drinks. Hey, if Mike can have a whore why couldn't I flirt a little bit? Things were moving along nicely when Jen sidled onto the barstool next to me.

"Whatcha' drinkin' Deb?"

"Oh hi Jen, it's a Zombie."

"Really? This early?"

"What's the big deal? It's Friday and I want to have some fun! And it's cheap because I'm not having to buy."

Jen looked at me sideways, gave her drink order to the bartender and waited for her Chablis before picking up the conversation.

"Deb, what's going on? This isn't you. I mean, you've got guys all over this place eyeballing you and you don't seem to be discouraging it."

"Look! I don't see what's wrong with a little innocent flirting. After all, there's people who've done things that are a whole lot worse!"

"Come with me. I think we'd better find a table in the corner."

Jen led me to a out of the way spot and the look on her face was serious. We sat and she just stared at me, not saying a word.

"What?"

"I asked you what's going on? You're my friend and I can see something isn't right and I'm worried about you."

"There's nothing going on. I'm fine."

"Okay, I guess I'll leave then since you aren't going to be honest with me."

Jen got up from the table and started to leave. Then it blurted out of my mouth.

"Don't go! Mike fucked a whore!"

Jen froze in mid-stride and then plopped back down in her chair, her eyes wide. I spent the next few minutes recounting all the sordid details and she remained silent until I ran out of steam.

"I have to say that I'm dumbfounded. That just doesn't sound like Mike. There has to be more to it than that."

"It's like I said, he admitted to all of it and I'm just so fucking mad. It's so inexcusable!"

She just stared off into space for a bit and tried to digest it all.

"Well I knew you two were going through a rough spot but would have never thought this would happen. Don't take this wrong but did you maybe do something to upset him?"

"No! I haven't done anything to upset him! I've been a good wife, and faithful! I just feel so betrayed and hurt."

"Any normal person is going to feel betrayed and hurt but this all just seems so weird. Like something doesn't fit."

"What do you mean it doesn't fit?"

"Please don't take this wrong Deb but Mike's a good looking guy, athletic, and a successful businessman who dresses the part. I just don't get why there would be a hooker involved. He could have his pick of women virtually any place he went and never even have to buy them a drink if he didn't want to."

"Oh I see! So do you want to fuck my husband too?!"

"Hey! That's not fair and I don't appreciate the insinuation! I'm trying to help here and don't deserve to be treated that way!"

"I, I'm sorry Jen. This just has me all twisted up. He's coming back soon and I really don't want to be there when he does. I haven't been sleeping well and I need some time to get my head together."

"It's okay. I know you didn't mean it. We have room at our place if you'd like to move in for a bit. Plus we could carpool and save a few bucks."

Just as she finished speaking my phone rang and it was Mike calling. I stared at the screen for a millisecond, declined the call, and turned off my phone.

"You know Jen, I think I'll take you up on that, for a little while anyway. I'll get some stuff and be over tomorrow. You're such a great friend and I don't know what I'd do without you."

18 July

Mike

Things were wrapping up with this assignment and truthfully I'd been on autopilot since the event with Deb. I was doing just enough to not get fired but in no way was I being a star performer. Deb wasn't answering calls, texts, or e-mails and it was tearing me apart on the inside. Plus it just ripped the scab right off and reopened the wound whenever I looked at my wrist to check the time. On every single level of consciousness I knew it was a completely self-inflicted wound. But the thing that hurt the worst was the pain I'd caused my wife. She had always been faithful and here I'd gone and betrayed her. I wasn't sure if it could be fixed but in my heart I wanted it to be, and that was foremost on my mind as I booked my flight to go home.

Three days later I was paying the parking bill at the airport and my hands were shaking as I handed my card to the parking attendant, so much so that I dropped it and had to open my car door to retrieve it. As it came open there was a loud clunk. Shit! I'd hit a guard post with my door and the attendant looked down and winced.

"Dude! That ain't gonna' buff out. That sucks."

I gave the attendant a "mind-your-own-business" look and handed him the card. He shrugged, ran the card and handed it back. Happily he didn't tell me to have a nice day because if he had I'd probably told him to go fuck himself. I pulled out of the parking area and merged up onto the highway and set the cruise control. Not five minutes later the low tire light came on followed quickly by a vibration in the steering wheel. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Why can't I catch a fucking break?! I hit the steering wheel repeatedly as I pulled off onto the shoulder. I spent the next twenty minutes changing the tire, sweating, cursing, and generally getting angrier. Then I tore my pants putting the jack back in the car. My anger level was topped out when I pulled back onto the highway and my foot mashed down hard on the accelerator. My mind wasn't really where it should have been and about five miles down the road police car lights lit up behind me. Twenty minutes later I pulled away with a fresh speeding ticket in my hand and a mood that I thought couldn't get any worse. I was wrong. Boy was I wrong.

Even as I turned down our street I was still clueless as to what I was going to say to Deb. But I did know that I wanted to talk and beg forgiveness and do whatever it took to keep us together. Our house was strangely dark as I pulled into the drive and pressed the opener. The door lifted and uncovered a completely empty garage. Deb's car was gone but I wasn't overly concerned. She was probably just out. I pulled in and grabbed my bags, went into the house and tossed my keys on the table by the door. There was a funny sort of stale smell and I flicked on the lights and dropped my bags. Strange. There were dirty dishes in the sink and the trash was overflowing. Those were two pet peeves that Deb was really anal about. As I made my way through the house my heart sank as I realized that Deb was gone. I sat down on the couch, buried my head in my hands and cried.

27 July

Deb

It was late Saturday afternoon and Jen and I were just lazing around out by the pool. Ever since Mike had gotten back it had been non-stop attempts on his part to try to get in contact with me, all of which I'd ignored. Thankfully Jen hadn't pried and was just being a supportive friend in my time of need, but I have to admit my disposition was pretty sour. It just showed how much character Jen had had as a human being and I think the juxtaposition was highlighting my own lack of integrity and it was wearing on me.

"So Deb, how about a girl's night out? The old ball-and-chain is out of town and I think you could use a little fun time. What do you say?"

"Yeah sure. That would be fun. I know I haven't been very much fun to be around."

"No you haven't, but I think that would be the case for anyone who went through what you have. I'm just really shocked that Mike hasn't tried to get with you or make things right."

"Well I'm just as happy that he hasn't. I get so angry every time I think about what he did."

Even as the words were coming out of my mouth they tasted sour and flat. They were toneless and hollow, like I really didn't believe them. Even Jen picked up on it and gave me a funny look. You know the look. The one where you take a swig of milk and it's just on the verge of going sour. It's not bad enough to spit out but you are disappointed at the taste and really wonder if it has gone bad. I wasn't really aware of it yet but I was going sour on the inside. I wasn't being truthful with myself or any of the people who cared about me and it was eating me up. Sullenly I made my way inside to take a shower and get ready. Maybe a night of fun would turn me around.

We took a taxi to the club and arrived around 8 pm. It was one of my favorite places to go and the night was already in full swing. We bought our own drinks, talked, laughed, danced with a few guys, and were generally having fun, but neither of us were drunk. Yes a few guys had offered to buy our drinks and we had politely declined and we had avoided some dance requests with the "I'm tired" excuse. Around 10:30 or so a particularly good looking guy approached making direct eye contact with me.

"Hi Deb, it's good to see you again. Can I buy you a drink, or maybe a dance?"

He looked vaguely familiar but I just figured he was someone I'd met through my work. Or maybe someone who had worked with Mike. In any case I wasn't really in the mood and I blew him off and looked away.

"Uh no thanks. I'm good."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw his body language change to that of someone who had been rebuffed. I even heard Jen suck in a little air between her teeth. I guess I must've sounded really harsh. As he walked away he turned back over his shoulder and spoke.

"So I guess that means another blowjob in the Men's room is out of the question?"

Ice water zapped through my veins and all the alcohol was immediately burned away with adrenalin. I could see Jen starting at me with cold eyes but I couldn't force myself to look up at her.

"What the fuck Deb?!"

"I, uh, can explain. I, uh..."

"What's to explain? You sucked a guy off and it sounds like it was recently! What the hell! Were there others? Don't lie to me! You've already done enough of that."

My head started to spin as the truth spilled out about my deceit and infidelity.

"I was lonely Jen. I got drunk and was just so lonely. I think there were at least two others that night. I don't remember for sure...."

Tears began to flow unabated and my nose started running.

"Two others?! You think? You're not sure? Was it protected sex? Please tell me it was protected!"

"I don't know! I was too drunk! I woke up the next morning wrapped around my bathroom toilet. There were cum stains on my dress and in my panties I think. I just don't remember...."

"God Deb! STD's! What were you thinking?"

My sobbing was uncontrollable now yet I sensed her rising anger."

"Wait a minute! What the fuck! You got all self-righteous about Mike fucking a whore and here you were having a gang-bang?

"No it wasn't a gangb..."

"The hell it wasn't! And on top of it you lied to me. I felt sorry for you and took you in and you were lying to me! You were out whoring around and then got upset at Mike for sleeping with one. You're actually worse because she at least did it for money."

"That's not fair! I didn't...."

"What's not fair Deb? You tell me what's not fair? Is it fair that you condemned Mike for something he did once and you did three times, with different men? Or maybe more men than that for all you know? Is it fair that you lied to me, your best friend, and I felt sorry for you and took you in? Is it fair to Mike that I was hating him and not hating you?!"

She was right and I had no answer and so I just sobbed and stared at the table.

"I'm leaving now Deb and going home. You can make your own way back but you need to be out. Your things will be on the front porch when you get there."

"But where will I go?"

"I guess I don't give a shit Deb. Maybe you should go back to your husband!"

With that she got up and stomped off. She didn't even look back. For the next few hours I sat at the table crying. A number of people came up to see if I was okay and each time I made some lame excuse. How could I face Mike? My mind raced foggily through the few options it could think of, but none of them made any sense.

I was shaken back to reality by a bouncer who was telling me it was closing time and wanting to know if I needed a cab. I nodded that I did and went to the ladies room to wash my face. What stared back at me from the mirror wasn't someone I liked. In fact at that moment I hated her. My fist went up and smashed the mirror, my head began to spin and then my world went black.

28 July

Mike

As had become the norm I wasn't sleeping well. In fact I hadn't slept well since I'd fucked everything up. Deb wasn't returning any of my attempts to contact her but I felt so guilty that I couldn't bring myself to show up at her work. Besides, I figured she'd just call security and have me tossed out. The additional drinking wasn't helping either, nor was the poor diet and the cessation of exercise. I was in a full-blown death spiral.

Author's Note: Did you know that psychologically a divorce is generally harder on the male? Also, on the average, senior women live longer after their husbands die than men do after their wives die. Think about it ladies. But back to Mike.

As usual I was staring at the ceiling when I should've been long asleep. I watched as a small spider made his (or her) way across on the way to the light fixture, presumably looking for prey. It was a sad statement that I was happy for the company and the small distraction. I wondered if he could see me laying here in the bed. With all those eyes he should be able to. Does it bother spiders to be walking upside down on a ceiling? How do birds perch on a thin wire and not flip over? How to fish drink water? Or do they even need to? Am I cracking up? It was a question that I really didn't want to think about. My mental misfires were interrupted by my phone ringing. The caller I.D. showed the local hospital. What the fuck?

"Hello."

"Hello, is this Michael?"

"Yes it is. Who's this?"

"My name is Mary and I'm calling from Rampart Hospital. Do you know a Deborah?"

A moment of panic gripped me.

"Yes! She's my wife. Is she okay!"

"She was brought in unconscious with lacerations on her hand but she is stable. We found your name in her phone and wanted to get some family down here for her."

"Thanks! I'll be there as soon as I can."

I threw on some clothes, jumped in the car and blasted out of the garage. I was definitely speeding but the only thing on my mind was my wife. I prayed all the way to the hospital and don't really remember the trip there. In fact I found out later that I'd left my keys in the car. The distance from my car to the reception desk was covered in Olympic time and I blurted out everything to the nurse in one long and poorly enunciated sentence. She was obviously not new at the job because she understood everything I said and called for an orderly to escort me back. It seemed like it took an hour for the orderly to arrive and I was bouncing around on my feet. People were staring but I really didn't care. I asked the nurse if Deb was okay but the orderly opened the door and motioned me to follow. In my haste I stumbled slightly on the carpet and a little girl snickered from somewhere behind me, only to be quickly shushed by her mother.