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Bad Husband
A NOVEL BY SHEY STAHL
My husband and I have never considered divorce…. Murder sometimes, but never divorce.
~ Joyce Brothers
One
A true “What the fuck” moment
I think with any story,there’s a beginning, a middle, and the end.
And just so we’re clear, we’re at the end. Right now. Or at least, in many ways, it feels that way with the way my heart wants to jump out of my chest and into my brain, a place it’s never been. Believe me, the two are seldom on speaking terms. One leads, the other follows at will like a lost puppy trying to find his way.
You see that guy standing there, staring at a stack of papers in his hand? The confused one.
No, not Brantley. He’s reading instructions to the framing nail gun our trainee jammed earlier today and then managed to shoot himself in the foot with. How is beyond me, unless he was doing it purposely. If you’ve ever met Trey, you’d totally understand howthat’spossible.
I’m confusing you, aren’t I?
Welcome to my current situation.
Take a look around the framed house to the kitchen. Look at the guynextto Brantley, to the left leaned up against a counter. The one wearing a look of mystification as he scans over the words Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.
I’ll say it again, because it certainly doesn’t feel real to me either. Petition for Dissolution of Marriage.
Divorce? That means divorce, right?
I’ve been married to Madison for eight years… hell, remember just an hour ago when I fucked her against the shower wall? Did any warning bells go off in your head when she was screaming my name I’d be served with this today?
Oh wait, you weren’t there yet. Sorry. Let’s rewind a moment here and then you can give me your take.
Three hours ago, I’m in the shower, but there’s my wife, Madison, standing at the sink brushing her teeth with nothing on. Look at her for a second. Long dark hair she keeps curled most of the time, beautiful wide blue eyes and that heart-shaped face.
Go lower, and you’ll see hips most men only dream of touching and long legs… well, you get the point by now. Hot wife.
I actually started dating Madison back in college for her body. Don’t sound so surprised. It’s a fact of being a warm-blooded male. Ninety percent of the time we go based off looks at the first glance.
Imarriedher for her heart, but still, she has an amazing body so naturally, I see her naked, I look. Or more importantly, I grab, or whatever else she’ll let me get away with. Today she lets me get away with more.
Fast forward a little bit here, and I manage to get her in the shower with me.
See those two people, she’s bent over the bench seat in the shower, hands splayed out over the tile, steam rolling between their bodies, eyes closed, hands grabbing at any angle they can to keep from one, falling, and two, never wanting to part.
That’s Madison and me. We have an amazing sex life. Or so I thought.
We actually started with sex. Met at a Halloween party off campus, found out we actually had three classes together at ASU and then fucked the rest of the night. Honestly, it was one of the best nights of my life.
Me, I was in love that first night. It took Mad another month or so… maybe like six. I can be a bit… hmmm… what’s the right word here? Intense? Nah, that’s not right. I’ll think of one and get back to you.
For now, let’s just focus on the facts. We had sex this morning, and it was good, right? It seemed that way to me.
And now this? Shit just doesn’t add up, does it? How did we go from, “Fuck me harder!” to a petition to…. I glance down and read the title once more. A petition to dissolve marriage.
What the shit?
“Why do you look like you saw a ghost?” Brantley stands in front of me, his wide burly shoulders blocking my view of the sunlight streaming between the two by fours in what will soon be the dining room.