Beyond the Breaking Point (7 page)

Cassidy smiled. She loved Dr. Manning and hoped one day Cassidy’s patients would feel the same about her. “I seem to have developed a yeast infection. I’m having a discharge and a bit of lower abdominal pain.”

Dr. Manning’s blue eyes showed her concern. “How long has this been going on?”

“About two or so weeks. I tried one of those over-the-counter medicines but it didn’t help, so I thought I’d better come in. You know what they say about doctors treating themselves,” Cassidy said with a shrug and a laugh.

“Yes, we are pretty terrible about it,” Dr. Manning agreed. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to do your own exam.”

“If I thought I could reach, I might would have.”

Dr. Manning laughed, as Cassidy intended. “Let’s take a look and see what’s going on.”

When she returned with the results of the testing in hand, all traces of laughter were gone. Silently, she handed Cassidy the test results. Cassidy scanned over them. “This…this makes no sense. It says I have Chlamydia. That’s an STD. I’m married. I don’t sleep around.”

“You’re very fortunate, Cassidy. Many women discover their condition after it’s too late. I know I don’t need to tell you the damage Chlamydia can cause on your reproductive organs.”

“There has to be some mistake. Are you sure these are my test results?”

Dr. Manning’s kind blue eyes were sympathetic. “There’s no mistake. I’ve seen this type of infection before so I knew which tests to run.”

“But how…?” Cassidy’s voice trailed off as the knowledge sank in. The only person who could have given it to her was her husband.

“Make sure your husband is treated as well, and I advise abstinence until all signs of the infection are clear in both of you. If that’s not possible, use a condom to prevent re-infection,” her doctor said gently. Dr. Manning handed her a prescription. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you take all of it. I want you to come back and see me in three months. I’d like to retest you to make sure all signs of the infection are totally clear.”

Mind whirling, Cassidy had made the appropriate responses.

“Cassidy,” Dr. Manning had said in her gentle manner. “I can only imagine how you must be feeling right now—the anger, the hurt…”

The embarrassment
, Cassidy thought.

“…but at least this was treatable. Talk with your husband,” she advised.

Thank God it had been treatable, but what if it hadn’t been? That “what if” had stayed with her a long time.

Cassidy had confronted Phillip that very same day. She’d called out sick to work, a first for her, and had his bags packed, sitting at the door when he arrived.

He’d come in, giving her a puzzled glance. “Hey, baby, thought you had to work today.”

“I took off so I could take care of some housecleaning,” she’d said, knowing he wouldn’t get the irony. He was the trash she wanted out of the house. By now her rage had cooled until it was a cold, lethal blade.

“Oh. So, what’s for dinner?” he’d asked, crossing over to give her his usual peck on the cheek.

“Don’t. Touch. Me. You cheating bastard,” she said in a hard angry tone.

He’d frozen, the hand he’d raised lowering to his side. The guilty shock on his features had quickly, and calculatingly in her opinion, changed to one of confusion. “Baby, what are you talking about? You know I’d never cheat on you.”

“Don’t. Don’t try to play me like I’m stupid. You gave me a goddamned STD!”

Phillip’s expression went blank, then hardened. “I’m clean. If you have an STD, you didn’t get it from me. Who have you been messing with? Have you really been at the hospital all those nights as you claimed?” he asked, his voice rising in anger.

“Don’t you try to turn this on me. You gave me Chlamydia. Do you know what it does to a woman’s body? To yours? It infects the reproductive organs. If it’s not caught early enough, it will kill any chance I have of having children. Make a man sterile.” Cassidy held herself very still, knowing if she’d allowed her body the slightest bit of freedom, she’d fly at Phillip and inflict the damage her rage required.

He was looking a little green around the edges. “But I don’t have any symptoms, any signs of something being wrong.”

“In most cases there aren’t any symptoms until it’s too late. I was one of the lucky ones,” she said bitterly, “if you consider my husband being a lying, cheating bastard lucky. Believe me; don’t believe me. I don’t give a damn. Just take your shit and get out of my house before I kill you.” Her expression, coupled with her tone, must have convinced him she meant it.

That’s when Phillip noticed his luggage sitting by the door. “Cassidy, there’s no need for this. You’re right, I haven’t been faithful, but it was only the one time. More of a one-night stand than an affair, I swear. She was some woman I met in a club one night when I was angry and hurting, and had too much to drink. I promise, it never happened again and never will happen again. I love you. Always have; always will. Please, please, forgive me.”

“Once was one time too many.”

“Cassidy, don’t do this to us.” He moved forward as if he’d touch her and she jerked away. “I know I was wrong but I was lonely. You spend so much time working, you’re never here. We barely see each other anymore.”

Her mouth dropped open. “So this whole thing is my fault?”

He held out both hands in supplication, and earnest expression on his face. “No, no. I’m not blaming you. I’m simply trying to explain.”

“Screw your explanations. You think they matter to me? We discussed this. Obstetrics isn’t a nine-to-five job. It’s a time-consuming and demanding career. You didn’t seem to mind while I was going through residency and that was a bitch. I was gone a whole lot more than I am now.”

“That was because I was focused on our future, but damn it, Cassidy, you’re certified now. Do you realize how much time I spend alone, waiting for you to come home? I asked you, Cassidy. Hell, I even begged you to consider going into private practice so you’d be home more. You refused.”

Cassidy flinched inwardly, trying to ignore the kernel of guilt his words planted. She didn’t want some tame office practice. That’s not why she’d become a doctor. She enjoyed working in a hospital environment helping the low-income crowd and the underprivileged.  “Just leave, Phillip. I don’t want to see you, talk to you, or hear your voice. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

“I’ll leave for now, but I’ll be back. Don’t make any hasty decisions. We can fix this, Cassidy. We will fix this. I love you and want our marriage to work. When you calm down, you’ll realize you love me too. Maybe we need to go to marriage counseling. I’m willing to fight for our marriage, are you?” With those parting words, he picked up his luggage and left.

Phillip, she discovered later, had gone to Max with his tale of woe. She’d immediately had all the locks changed, which felt satisfying at the time but ended up being an exercise of futility. In her anger she’d forgotten she was dealing with a lawyer. It hadn’t been long before he’d been in the house with her, sleeping down the hall in the guest bedroom.

She’d tried her best to ignore him, but Phillip was determined when he wanted something and what he wanted most, he’d said, was to fix their marriage. He cooked, cleaned, brought her flowers and little trinkets. Eventually, as her body healed and her anger subsided, he was able to wear her down. Cassidy had reluctantly agreed to the counseling.

 It had taken weeks of intensive counseling before she’d begun to open up. Months before she’d allowed Phillip into her bed, and only then with a condom. Cassidy had thought they’d both changed as a result of the work they’d put into saving their relationship. That their marriage was now stronger, unbreakable. She’d been wrong.

Rehashing the past wouldn’t change anything. Time to move forward.

Using her phone, Cassidy assessed the Internet, downloaded a copy of the flight information, and sent it to Phillip’s email. That task accomplished, she glanced around at her belongings in the room. She needed moving boxes to make the transporting of her things easier. And while she was at it, now that she knew Phillip was still in Orlando, she might as well go to the house and make another pass at the contents. Cassidy still didn’t want anything that would remind her of her marriage, but there were things she’d left belonging solely to her and she wanted them.

Grabbing a yogurt and a disposable spoon, she left the hotel.

She arrived at the house over an hour later and methodically went through each room. Family photos, favorite wall art, movies only she watched and CDs only she listened to, one of the extra televisions and DVD players, and her candles and candle holders, all went in a box marked
Living Room
and was stored in her vehicle. Then she went through the kitchen taking the things she considered hers—a favorite knife set, can opener, extra dishes and pots, and foods she loved but Phillip didn’t particularly care for.

The basement office, where they kept all their important paperwork, she saved for last. She went through all the bills, making sure she had account numbers for everything that had her name on it. Using the three-in-one printer, she made a copy of the mortgage agreement for her lawyer, as well as any investments she and her husband shared. Bank statements, utility bills, and insurance papers all went in the financial folder she was creating.

Last of all, she powered up the desktop computer to see if she’d missed anything. Between her laptop and iPad, both gifts from Phillip, she had little cause to use this machine, but at one time this had been the only computer they could afford and they’d had to share.

The log in screen came up and Cassidy typed in the password.

“YOUR PASSWORD OR LOGIN IS INCORRECT.”

She retyped the login, taking care not to mistype any of the characters.

“YOUR PASSWORD OR LOGIN IS INCORRECT.”

“No it’s not,” she argued with the machine. Granted, it had been two or more years since Cassidy had used this computer, but she used the same exact login on her laptop, and the same password on her PC at work and iPad.

She tried it again.

“YOUR PASSWORD OR LOGIN IS INCORRECT.”

It took a minute, but Cassidy eventually realized that Phillip must have changed the password. The immediate question was why?

As part of their marriage counseling, they had both agreed to complete access to each other’s information as a condition of rebuilding trust. Since Cassidy hadn’t been the one to cheat, she hadn’t had a problem with it. Phillip, too, had readily agreed, stating empathically that his affair had been one of opportunity and lack of judgment, not deliberate planning on his part. So that being the case, why had he changed the password? What was on here that he didn’t want her seeing?

Leave it alone, Cassidy. This is an invasion of privacy. What does it matter what he was doing on the computer? You’re through with him
, her saner side urged.

But her other, more suspicious side argued.
You just walked in on the man having sex with his best friend’s fiancée. What if that’s not all he’s been doing? What if everything he’s said and done in the last two years has been a lie?

  The last thought galvanized her to action. She began searching the desk, looking through drawers. She knew Phillip. He always wrote things down, needing a backup in case he forgot. She found his day planner and thumbed through it. On the last page she found what she was seeking—the password to both his home and work computers.

She typed it in and waited impatiently for the computer to complete its process, which took a lot longer than it should have. Phillip obviously hadn’t been maintaining the system. Of course, she’d always been the one obsessed about viruses, cookies, and optimal system speed. It was one of the reasons Phillip had cited to explain his purchase of her laptop, which at the time they definitely couldn’t afford. He said having separate PCs would cut down on the amount of arguments, and it had.

Finally, the system was ready. Cassidy forced herself first to go through the document files and see if there was anything she needed. She found several. She opened the Internet browser, logged into her email account and emailed the files to herself. Once she was certain she had everything, she began to snoop.

First, she went to
Recent Items
. Videos, lots and lots of numbered videos. She clicked on one at random and waited while Window’s Media Player opened. What showed on the screen didn’t exactly surprise her. She knew Phillip had no problems watching porn. He considered it a means of relaxation and had pushed her to watch the occasional one with him. Since she’d been trying to save their marriage, she’d given in to their marriage counselor’s prompting and done so though she’d never enjoyed them. In her mind, sex was a private act between two people and should never be considered “entertainment.”

What stunned her was when she clicked on the Window’s Media Library and saw the sheer number of videos Phillip had stored on the computer. Then she went to Google and went to browser history. Phillip never thought to clear his cache. It was all there. Every porn site, cybersex site, online dating and chat site he’d visited in the last four years was listed. Cassidy thought of all the times Phillip had retreated to this office, stating he had a case to work on or research to do. Lies, all of it.

It made so much sense now. Why he couldn’t be satisfied with their sex life. Why he always wanted more, needed more, and was always pushing her boundaries.

Suddenly feeling lightheaded, Cassidy hung her head between her knees and took shallow breaths. She had to get out of here. Get away from this filth. Just looking at it made her feel dirty, denigrated as a woman.

Cassidy snatched up the folder with her papers, grabbed her purse, and left the house. Thank God she’d lugged each box to her vehicle as she filled it. Outside, she stood for a moment in the bright sunshine, letting its warmth cleanse the chill from her body and soul.

Had she ever known Phillip? Really known him? God, had their whole marriage been a lie? The thought broke her heart all over again.

Keep it together
, she ordered herself.
Shut it down, lock it up tight. You don’t have time to deal with this now. There’s too much to do. Put it out of your mind and concentrate on what needs to be done. Step by step, one thing at a time. You can have a meltdown later
. The stern talking to she gave herself caused Cassidy to straighten her shoulders and blink her eyes dry.