...But We're Even -Volume 3 (The Grand Finale)

By Excene

Dawn and her husband Dillon Sheppard had everything a married couple wanted. The perfect family, the perfect lifestyle, and a very loyal entourage; that was until she found out that her husband had been having a long term affair with the wife of his best friend.

After being separated for the last three months, Dillon Sheppard wanted his life back; he wanted to move where he belong; at home with his wife and two kids. But when every attempt of reconciliation failed, he turn to one final resort. It was guaranteed to work; it was supposed to reunite him and his family for good, but in this world of filth and guilt trips there’s only one thing that’s guaranteed: deception.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Excene
• Release date: Apr 17, 2013
• ISBN: 9780989048620

Excene

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But We’re Even

Volume 3 —The Grand Finale

Written by Excene

Copyrights 2013 Acclimation Press

Smashwords Edition

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This is a work of fiction, Names, Characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locale or persons living, dead is entirely coincidental

W A R N I N G

This material may be disturbing

or deem offensive to some readers.

Reader’s discretion is fully advised.

PLEASE PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK

CONTENTS

TITLE PAGE

WARNING

FOREWORD

CHAPTER 12

CHAPTER 13

CHAPTER 14

CHAPTER 15

CHAPTER 16

CHAPTER 17

CHAPTER 18

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER 20

CHAPTER 21

CHAPTER 22

CHAPTER 23

CHAPTER 24

CHAPTER 25

CREDITS

CHAPTER 12

Please do allow me to introduce myself

I know a month doesn’t sound like a lot of time, but to me it was starting to feel like an eternity. In the last fifteen years or so Dawn and I have had our ups and many downs, but we’ve never been apart for this long, so naturally I was getting worried— and to be honest I never thought it would be this big of a deal considering that Dawn didn’t have any proof of anything; technically it was just her words against mine, and with Hope being under heavy medications who in their right mind would validate anything she had to say? What wife was going to throw away her marriage and wrecked her home because of what some crippled broad in a wheel chair said?

‘It’s all a big conspiracy, can’t you see that?’ I told her over the phone. She laughed, and said that I was hilarious and gave me a number to call comedy central to see if they were looking for any new acts. I even tried that George W. Bush theory: ‘Baby you know these people are jealous of our lifestyle, they hate to see us happy because they are so miserable. That one didn’t go well either. I basically rushed and got off the phone because she got so pissed it sounded like she wanted to chop my head off. We had been though much worse than that and got back together, that’s what I couldn’t understand. I mean they were times when I thought the cops were going to have to take me away to keep us from killing one another.

We came very close to, but we had never gotten into any physical altercation. I would never put my hands on a woman, especially the mother of my children. I have absolutely no respect for a man who cannot appreciate the novelty and the delicacy of a woman, not just any woman, but the woman who helped you regenerate life through your seed —to me that’s miraculously and she deserves the moon and the stars.

Which is why Dawn will always have a special place in my world, and regardless of what we’ve been through I know for a fact that she is not only a great woman, but she also the perfect mate, and an ideal companion; well maybe she wasn’t so perfect. Still, I couldn’t help it if all those women wanted a piece of Mr. Sheppard. I tried to tell Dawn that she ought to be grateful for the simple fact that I was the kind of husband who put his family first. Dawn couldn’t understand that it was in the nature of a woman to aim for what they couldn’t have. Even though they would never admit it, most women hate to be challenged, so once they found out that I loved my wife, it only made them want me more. It’s not like I was the most handsome man, but Dawn always thought it was my fault that a lot of these girls were falling heads over heels for me for no reason other than the fact that I was a married man. Like the intern who called her phone to tell her that she was a desperate cock-hungry bitch who should leave me alone. I don’t know how Lisa got her number to begin with, but Dawn was in front of my desk in less than an hour. I knew something was fishy when she popped up and said she was nearby and thought she should come to say hello, but then she started sniffing around the office asking about a nice young lady who usually answered my phone. Luckily Lisa wasn’t new so her name never even came up, but as soon as she saw Dawn in my office Lisa took an indefinite lunch break that day. It wasn’t until we were home having dinner later that she played me the message, and I couldn’t deny it because she could clearly identify gay-ass Mauricio ranting and raving as usual in the background.

Whoever that is babe, it sounded like she was just obsessed I argued, and I knew she didn’t buy it even though she didn’t try to contest it. What else was I going to say? I am pretty sure somehow I might have implied that I had a bitchy wife who was worthless when I was trying to convince Lisa to get on her knees, yes I have no shame; that’s what I do. Women don’t want to feel worthless; they want someone miserable to help them validate their whorishness. I mean why else would Hope keep coming back? I never put a gun to her head. Sure I might have insinuated that I would retaliate if she didn’t comply with my demands but she could have said no— what was I going to do, especially when her husband and my wife were very good friends. Hope was just dumb; there is no other way of putting it. I kept pushing her buttons by claiming one extreme after another and she would always fall for it. Like when I told her about the sex-tape and she brought it, but somehow I am supposed to be the bad guy?

It was true that I used to tape everything with lipstick and panties back then. Those were the days when I was convinced that I was going be a porn star. My camera was always recording—whether it was hidden or out in the open; agreed or not. I had three cameras in my room at one point. One was hidden on the ceiling by the light fixture; I had another one on top of the dresser, and the last one was in the closet. Most girls knew about the one on top of the dresser, which I would only turn on when I had a young lady who was daring enough to allow me to record us because I was so in love, I wanted to see us making love I’d confessed. I never really kept the tapes for long, but they were more than a few that I truly mourned over when Maria the chick before Dawn caught me red handed and pretty much shut down the entire recording operation. I managed to hide a few in a shoe box in the closet still. Like the two Australian chicks at the Bellagio Hotel in Vegas, that was an instant classic —Ron Jeremy had nothing on me. Then there was the chick from the Philippines who like to bow down when it was time for her to receive a sperm shower, or the African chick who roared like Tarzan every time she was ejaculating; those were just a few memorable ones. Hope would have never made the final cut. In fact I never really cared about recording her; she was cute, but boring as hell if you asked me.

The goal now was to find a way to get Dawn to give me a second chance, for the sake of our kids. I know how much she hated the single parent idea, so that’s what I was planning to emphasize on, because living in this dump was starting to feel more like a nightmare; too many times I found myself waking up in the middle of the night wondering where the hell I was. I definitely loved the view, but more as a visitor than a resident, definitely not a permanent resident. Quite frankly, I never understood how people managed to live in those building apartments.

I came from a six rooms three bathroom’s house with a Jacuzzi and a pool. My backyard alone looks better than most people entire house. There was no way in I could live here for long. It was okay for now, but that would never work out for me; even walking up those stairs irritated the hell out of me most of the time. I’ve never like this whole building atmosphere. I grew up in Suffolk County what the hell do I know about buildings? I didn’t know much about them then, and I don’t plan on learning about them now or ever —period. The place felt like, looked like, and smelled like the projects.

Don’t get me wrong now I am grateful after all I was somewhat in a jam when Dawn flipped and put me out. My friend Scott told me about a vacant pad he owned on the upper west side, overlooking at the Harlem River drive. So I settled there until things cooled off and