Fated Love

LAMONTE - Chapter 1

He caught his wife in bed with another person for the second time.

The first time, he blamed himself. He’d been so focused on work, on trying to setup a plush bank account, supporting her hobbies and assuming the role of “everyman” in the community. He would never turn down the request to help someone. You need a handyman, call Lamonte. You need a strong back to move furniture or a washing machine, he’s your guy. The church needs volunteers to setup and teardown tents. Who do you contact? Yep, Lamonte.

The first time he knew she was betraying their relationship was when he came home from a long work day, and the bedroom reeked of the undeniable scent of sex. The bed was rumpled. She smelt of fresh soap, and her walk was either “smoother” or “off”.

She swore nothing happened - until her lover had driven back because he’d forgotten his own house keys on the nightstand. The argument worsened when Lamonte found the used condoms in the bathroom trashcan.

Being a good man, and a forgiving husband, he swore they could mend the marriage and move forward. He believed every word she said. He even made changes to his lifestyle and gave her more attention.

This time...

The woman that sat up on his side of the bed was not his wife. He had to admit the lady had a nice chest and pretty hair. The problem was she struggled to get Lamonte’s wife to stop performing cunnilingus under the sheet. Her passion was on overdrive, because Lamonte stood in the room a good minute before the lover could climax and his wife could come up for air.

The expression confused her on her lover’s face. The new lover wore a blissful and awkward look as her eyes locked with Lamonte’s.

Nothing could be said. This wasn’t pornhub or some website. This was deep, hurtful shit.

He didn’t hear her pleas. The excuses fell on numb ears. He simply grabbed his car keys and stepped out the door. His wife came out after him, gripping his arm to stop him. He heard something about him not being a bad lover, it was that she had needs he alone wasn’t able to fill.

He dimly recalled telling her he was open-minded, and would have compromised with her sexual desires. It was the lies. The failure to communicate. The sheer audacity to manipulate him and his trust was too much.

Lamonte made sure that the day he boarded the airplane, she would be served the divorce papers. There was nothing more to say after all the fake tears and spitting accusations. She played the victim. Oh, the horror.

It was a fractious affair, as she desperately tried to hold on to his wallet, not their marriage. The outrageous fabrications coming from her were enough to challenge his conviction of not striking a woman. Lord knows he wanted to, but he was raised better and chose not to be “that guy”. He knew as a man, one time was enough to brand you for life. Thankfully, when his employer had a staffing availability on the Marshall Islands, it seemed like it still wasn’t far enough away.

His own family turned on him. His younger sister claimed he was anti-social and wasn’t liberal enough to help his wife through her sexuality journey. His father claimed being married was not about being selfish. How the hell did his wife hoodwink his family? They didn’t know this was not the first time she cheated. It didn’t matter the gender of the person she slept with. It was the violation of trust. The impossible communication barriers she’d erected. They were incompatible that he refused to be her wimp and allowed her to be the witch doing all her sexual spells with whomever she wanted. He never implied he owned her, leased her, or controlled her. He couldn’t compare her to anybody else, but politicians trying to save their own asses when they were caught.

So, the duty to go overseas was a welcome respite. He would be newly single, a divorcee, and tropical island life sounded relaxing.

After gaining his passport, making financial arrangements, appointing a lawyer due to her innate talent for fucking things he wasn’t aware of, and making her sign for an uncontested divorce, he was ready to upheaval his life. The flight was connecting to two other routes, then he’d charter his way to the atoll.

The blue ocean was crisp enough to spot the world’s largest shark sanctuary. All 4.7 kilometers of the French Polynesian area were filled with 2 meters long sharks of various species. As the boat slid over cresting waves, he glimpsed two nurse sharks wrestle in the sandy bottom. The sea spray was salty to the tongue, but refreshing to his brow. The coral reefs circled lagoons. It was a heedy experience for Lamonte. The green walls along dead volcanoes were vibrant enough to make him forget what world he was on.

As the boat rocked, the captain spoke with Lamonte in a friendly way. The crew were three strapping young men who seemed content in their boredom. They stared out to the horizon, even as a Chinese woman made her appearance from below deck. She smiled at Lamonte and quickly made her way to the Captain’s side. She rose to her toes and gave him a kiss. Lamonte was momentarily jealous at the public display of affection, only because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been kissed. He sat there, like the younglings, drifting off to the horizon, trying to beat the rust off his memories to recall an intimate kiss. He’d grown accustomed to a cheek peck from his wife... soon to be ex-wife... and nothing more. The anger flared for a moment as he caught himself thinking that she’d given all her affection to others before him.

The reef gave way to the port, and Lamonte pulled himself from his trance.

Yep, he couldn’t outrun memories. Maybe the Islands would be a good place to make new ones.