Hot Ice
- 3 years ago
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DreamWeaverChapter 2 free porn video
The mind is sometimes a funny thing. It pulled me on a journey through some of the best times in my life. I relived my life with Beth, seeing her smile when it was dazzling and new, remembering her laughter - like music.
I relived the night we first made love. God, I was so nervous! I remembered proposing to her, watching her walk toward me on our wedding day in her shining white gown. I’d never noticed that her smile hadn’t quite dazzled for me the past couple of years. We’d both turned 30 this past year, she in October and me in May. We’d been together for 10 years, six of them as husband and wife.
I don’t know how long I cried over the slow, pathetic death of my marriage, but eventually, calm stole over me. I knew it was the Valium kicking in and I was grateful. I looked at it calmly, the drug starting to make me drowsy, but soothing my misery to a dull ache that was manageable. I regained my composure and wiped my eyes as I took deep breaths. Maybe this was best. She wasn’t in love with me. She loved me, but it was no stronger than the bond she’d feel for a pet, maybe not even that strong.
Sure, she said I was her best friend. I didn’t feel like her best anything. I was strangely okay with it. I suspected that I’d need to lean on the Valium for a while to keep myself on an even footing. For the first time since yesterday, I felt okay. If those little pills could keep the devastation at arms-length for a little while, I’d take that, for now.
I called my office and told them that I’d need the rest of the week off for a family emergency and might need to take a leave of absence to deal with things. I was a chemical engineer for a large plant outside of town, but there were three of us in that particular job, so there were people who could pick up the slack. I sat there, wondering what I was going to do with the rest of my life. I’d pictured that life including kids and Beth and a future of us retiring to Florida and leaving the house in the hands of the ... kids we’d never have now.
I hadn’t come to any conclusions when the need to use the bathroom forced me out of my sanctuary. I went to the bathroom off the kitchen and did what I had to, painfully aware of the infection as I clenched my teeth and pissed, enduring the worst of it before I washed my hands and left the bathroom.
There was no sign of Beth in the kitchen or the living room and I wondered if she was upstairs or had gone out. I checked for her SUV first and saw that it was there, so I went upstairs and knocked on the bedroom door. When she came to the door, she’d been crying too. I wondered if it was the same pain I was feeling or just sympathy that I was hurting. The thought was distant though. Valium wasn’t exactly making it hard to think, but it was like the thoughts were outside of myself and I was drifting in isolation, sometimes coming close enough to one to make it out briefly.
“Are you hungry?” I asked, slightly glazed. “I could make something to eat.”
“Are you okay?” she asked tentatively. “You seem ... I don’t know. Just not like you.”
“Valium,” I said. “Dr. Sebastian’s idea. Do you want supper?”
“I don’t ... Whatever you’re going to have, I suppose. Do you want some help?”
“Maybe,” I said. “I feel ... detached. It might help to have someone remind me what I’m supposed to be doing.”
She nodded, and we went down to the kitchen, cooking together for the first time in forever. She kept nudging my attention back to the task at hand, and we eventually got dinner together. I’d like to tell you that it was a great meal and we took it as a sign that we worked better together, but it was just sausages and mashed potatoes. Nothing special. We didn’t even work well together. She wasn’t used to being in the kitchen anymore, and I was slipping in and out of a drug induced fog, feeling calm, but disconnected.
We sat at the table and I stared at her, remembering random times we’d sat at this table in the past while my food started to get cold until her voice broke through and reminded me to eat. We didn’t really speak during dinner, and once it was done, we looked at each other awkwardly. I got up and started to clean up the dishes. I really was feeling calm at the moment. I knew that as soon as the dishes were done, I was probably going to turn in for the night.
“Rand,” she said, putting a hand on my arm when I went to take her dishes away.
“I’m sorry. I hadn’t realized that you didn’t feel the same distance between us.”
“Yeah,” I said. “I’m not your best friend, Beth. Best friends share their thoughts and feelings. You checked out on me a long time ago, if we’d faded to the point that someone in his fifties could seduce you away from me that easily. I’m not ... It’s...”
I stopped and gathered myself.
“My thoughts are all over the place right now. Today is the first time you’ve really told me how you feel about me in a long time. It’s worse, because it’s the truth. When you were screaming at me and starting fights, at least I knew you didn’t really mean it. I mean, how could you? No one in their right mind throws a two-day fit over how the tinsel was strung on the Christmas tree. Today, though...”
I paused and shook my head.
“It’s real. It’s not hate or rage or anger. It was just indifference. I’m not your husband, not your lover, not even your friend. I’m just a guy that you regret having to hurt. It’s cool. We’ll get through this. It’ll be the last thing you have to do with me. Then we’ll work out an agreement for the divorce and we each go free. I guess that’s the best thing for both of us.”
“Rand, I didn’t want it to come to this,” she said sadly. “I really do love you, but it’s not the passionate sort of love to build a marriage on. I wanted this to work, but when you said that we should go through with the divorce, deep down, I was relieved.”
I nodded. “I get it. We’ll work it out. We’ll have to make decisions about the house and the rest of our stuff.”
“Let’s be honest, Rand,” she said wearily. “You’ll get almost everything in the divorce. All I need is enough money to set up an apartment and maybe pay off the SUV.”
“You’ll probably need more than that,” I said. “After the lawsuits, I doubt if you’ll have a job to go back to - even if the company survives.”
“I don’t intend to stick around,” she admitted. “Once all the lawsuits are settled, I’ve decided that I’m going back to Atlanta. I’ll stay with my parents for a little while and get a job there. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that my parents know what really happened.”
I nodded, and figured that once she left town, I’d never see her again. I had no intention of ever setting foot in the city limits of Atlanta, knowing there was a chance that I could run into her there.
That was pretty much it for us. She went back to work the next day, as if nothing had happened. She recorded the conversation she had with Stan about why she’d had to take the day off and he’d been shocked by the news that he had the Clap. Later that week, he was served with six different lawsuits while he was standing in the middle of a luncheon attended by his wife. That raised all kinds of hell, because Beth and I were each suing him for assault with the details of the STD he’d given her and by extension, me. Then we were each suing him personally for effectively ending our marriage and suing the business too, since their trysts had taken place on company time, on company grounds, or at company events.
I guess the prenup with his trophy wife had been specific about her infidelity, but suspiciously mum about any cheating on his part, because she didn’t immediately hop on the bandwagon and get a lawyer.
He wanted to settle the six lawsuits for pennies on the dollar. I agreed to meet with him when Angela told me he’d made an offer. She told me we should reject it without meeting, but I wanted to make sure he knew where he stood.
I arrived for the meeting a few minutes early and Angela urged me to let her do the talking when we went into the conference room.
I nodded. “I’m willing to settle for double the original value of the suits. In exchange, I’ll sign a non-disclosure agreement about the settlement, and he doesn’t get his name dragged through the mud. Personally, I’d rather go to court. I want him publicly humiliated.”
She nodded. “Just sit there and stare daggers at him,” she told me. “I’ll get you every penny I can.”
“And the fillings in his teeth,” I reminded her. “That’s very important. I want him to have those holes in his pretty white smile.”
She barked a laugh. “We’ll have to see about the fillings,” she said with a small smile.
The meeting was a complete fiasco. Stan was pacing when we entered the room. Angela was still greeting his lawyer when he punched me in the face. I’d like to say that I shrugged it off and opened the Gates of Hell on him, but it took me completely by surprise. I fell back against the door-frame and he pressed the advantage, hitting me again. His rage was making him strong and fast, hammering me with hay-makers that staggered me and kept me off balance.
Then, just as suddenly as he started, he stopped, and I wondered why. I shook my head and tried to get the room to stop spinning. Stan was lying on the floor a short distance away, twitching and Angela was holding a taser, the leads connecting the gun to Stan’s back. I could hear the electrical pop of the taser continuing to punish him as I slowly got back to my feet.
“This was clearly a premeditated assault, counselor,” she told his lawyer even while she risked giving the bastard a heart attack. “My client agreed to this meeting at your insistence. You could easily be considered an accessory to the assault.”
“Ms. Price, I assure you, I was just as surprised as you were that Mr. Weaver reacted that way,” he protested, holding up his hands as if to defend himself.
“Angela,” I said thickly. “Do you think you could ease off the juice? We don’t want him to die before he can settle the suit. After that, feel free to hook him up to a car battery and barbecue the pig.”
She looked down at him and nodded.
“Fine,” she said, relenting.
She took her finger off the trigger, but left it primed to shock him again if he got out of hand. She turned back to the other lawyer and shook her head.
“Now, my client had been willing to come here to entertain the offer you had on the table, but in light of this turn of events, we’re willing to settle each of the suits for triple the original value, in exchange for a non-disclosure agreement about the details of the settlement and we’ll throw in an agreement not to press charges or pursue additional suits as a result of today’s disgusting outburst. It’s a package deal. All or nothing.”
“Can I have the conference room for a few moments to talk with my client once he’s collected himself?” he asked sourly.
“Take your time,” she said and removed the cartridge from her taser.
She stooped long enough to yank out the barbs from Stan’s back, making him scream briefly. She took me back to her office and she examined my face.
“These are going to bruise up nicely,” she said, admiringly. “Don’t put any ice on them. We want you bruised and swollen when we take the pictures of them. Open your mouth for me,” she said and when I did, she looked over my teeth. “He didn’t knock any out, but you’re bleeding a little. Probably just from your lip.”
I nodded, and we went back out to wait for them to consider what had been said. After about twenty minutes, the door opened, and the lawyer nodded that they were ready for us.
He started as soon as we were settled.
“Mr. Weaver apologizes for his hasty actions and wants you to know that nothing like that will ever happen again.”
It was a sack of shit from a sack of shit, representing a sack of shit. I didn’t call him on it. Angela told me to let her do the talking and frankly, she scared me. I wasn’t looking for her to turn that taser on me.
“Thank you for your assurances, counselor,” she said. “It doesn’t change our position that this was a premeditated attack on my client. If I were to have expected violence from anyone at this meeting, I’d have been worried that the damage done to Mr. Dunn by your client would have made him volatile.”
“My client was served with the papers for your actions in a very public setting and his wife has reacted poorly to the news of his alleged infidelity,” he explained. “He’s embarrassed and humiliated and more than a little upset by the way this was handled.”
“Imagine my client’s embarrassment and humiliation, counselor,” she said coldly. “He was made aware of your client’s involvement with his wife after finding out their affair had infected him with a sexually transmitted disease. Unfortunately, we need to wait some time to determine if your client has also spread HIV into his household, but rest assured that we’ll see to having your client held responsible for that if the test comes back positive.”
That made the other lawyer visibly pale.
“I’m certain that those tests will come back negative, but in the event that they don’t, that still doesn’t make my client culpable for the actions of Mrs. Dunn.”
They postured back and forth, and I lost interest in their dancing around. I was focusing on Stan. He was breathing hard and glaring at me like he wanted to kill me. I knew I was going to kill him when this was done. I smiled at him and something in the look on my face must have disturbed him, because suddenly, he didn’t want to look at me.
“Look, the bottom line is that triple the original amount of the three suits is ridiculous. No judge in the world would award you that much in court. Hell, my client doesn’t have enough money to pay that off along with all the other lawsuits levied against him. We’re willing to discuss putting this all behind us, but not for that amount.”
“Mr. Dunn is less interested in the money than in publicly airing his grievances against Mr. Weaver - and Weaver Savings and Loans - for the role he and his business have played in the destruction of his marriage. He’s been very badly injured in this and feels it would only enable Mr. Weaver’s behavior for him to suffer in silence.”
“If this goes to court, the business won’t be worth shit!” Stan blurted out.
“That may be a beneficial side-effect of the trial from Mr. Dunn’s point of view,” Angela pointed out. “His life is ruined. His wife has been forced to alienate him in their marriage to hide the sexual injuries your client inflicted on her body; he’s suffering from the symptoms of gonorrhea that your client introduced into his marriage; he’s devastated by the end of his union, humiliated by the reason and has been forced to take time away from his job. He may not be able to return to work with his current employer, due to the anguish of having to explain his divorce to his co-workers. So, damage to his health, damage to his home-life, damage to his professional life, damage to his social life. And your client saw fit to lay his hands on my client and issue a beating that he in no way provoked. We personally have no sympathy for your client’s plight, and I’m certain that the courts will be equally unfeeling.”
Clover
- 01.11.2021
- 28
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