The Suicide Princess

by Bryan, Anthony

  Jacob checked his phone frequently over the next several hours, hoping Stephanie would respond to his earlier text, but he received nothing. Just after eleven-thirty, and about seven hours after she had gone into the apartment building, Jacob saw Stephanie emerge with Derrick. Jacob fumbled to get the video recorder, and he pressed the red record button just in time to capture Derrick and Stephanie holding one another while they kissed goodnight. Jacob zoomed in to capture the detail of the embrace between his wife and this other man, and his stomach churned with pain as he recorded each second.

  The lovers parted ways, with Stephanie walking towards her car and Derrick going back inside. Jacob noticed Stephanie was no longer wearing her work attire, and she was now wearing tight, black yoga pants, a cute T-shirt, and sneakers. His imagination wandered relentlessly as he struggled to avoid thinking of what she could have been doing in the apartment.

  Jacob saw Stephanie's car drive by his rental, and he was preparing to follow her to see where she went next. Jacob waited for a few moments before pulling out of his parking spot to avoid being directly behind her. As Jacob was preparing to drive, he saw Derrick emerge from the building and walking toward the coffee shop.

  “Where's he going?” Jacob wondered, as his plan suddenly shifted.

  Jacob exited the vehicle and began following Derrick on foot. Jacob worked to stay close enough to Derrick to keep constant view of him but far enough to avoid detection. Fortunately for Jacob, Derrick's journey was short, and he entered a nearby bar.

  Jacob stood by the entrance to the bar, taking a few deep breaths in an attempt to maintain his composure. Having no idea what he was going to do next, Jacob pulled open the door to the bar and walked in. He saw Derrick sitting at the bar, and Jacob sat on the only remaining empty stool, right next to Derrick.

  As Jacob sat at the bar, Derrick being Derrick looked to him and said, “Listen buddy, you keep your hands to yourself, I'll keep my hands to myself, and we'll get along just fine.”

  “What?” Jacob, thinking he was caught, nervously asked.

  “I'm kidding, brother,” said Derrick. “I'm just kidding.”

  “Oh,” Jacob nervously continued, “It's okay.”

  “I'm sorry, man. Let me get you a drink,” Derrick offered while having no idea why he made the man he was talking to so nervous. “What do you want?”

  Jacob, realizing he was being faced with the best opportunity he could ask for, said, “No, I'm sorry. I've just had a tough day. I'd love a vodka-cranberry.”

  “Vodka-cranberry?” Derrick asked. He jokingly continued, “That's what my grandmother drinks, but to each his own. Bartender, a vodka-cranberry for my new friend, and whiskey neat for me.”

  “You got it, guys,” the bartender replied as Derrick stuck his hand out to Jacob.

  “I'm Anthony,” said Derrick, giving a fake name out of suspicion of the stranger sitting next to him.

  Jacob, having no idea that Stephanie knew this man as “Derrick,” saw nothing unusual and shook his hand. Jacob was uncertain how much Derrick actually knew of him, and he had to give a false name.

  “I'm Steve,” said Jacob.

  “Cool to meet you, buddy,” Derrick said.

  With the exception of the complete change of names, the two had an otherwise normal conversation. Derrick rarely sat alone for long before making a new friend, and this was no exception. The only difference this time being that Derrick's new friend was faking every smile, and he was actually fighting the enormous temptation to kill Derrick.

  “What are you doing here, tonight?” Derrick asked.

  Jacob waved his left hand, showing his wedding band, and said, “Wife's pissing me off, so I needed to get out for a little bit.”

  Derrick laughed and said, “Out looking for a little strange, huh?”

  “A little strange?” Jacob asked.

  “Some strange ass,” Derrick said. He explained further, “Looking for a girl.”

  “No, I'm not looking,” Jacob answered.

  “But if the opportunity knocked, you wouldn't answer?”

  Jacob forced a fake laugh and said, “Now, I never said that! But what about you, you married?”

  “No way, brother. You were crazy enough to make that mistake, not me.”

  “You're telling me, man. No girlfriend or anything?” Jacob asked.

  “I wouldn't call them girlfriends, but I have my fingers in a few little honeypots, if you know what I mean.”

  “No shit? You can’t leave it at that; I need to vicariously live through you for a minute,” said Jacob.

  “I just have two stringing along right now. One is a little blonde that I've been tapping for a while, and she's starting to get a little on the boring side - kind of reached my end with her. But my most recent one, is a tight little brunette that's a shit ton of fun.”

  “Man, I wish I wasn't married,” Jacob announced.

  “What difference does it make? This brunette is married, and she doesn't seem to give a shit. Why should you?”

  “One of your girls is married?” Jacob asked.

  “Actually, they're both married. But the blonde, I've already run through her, and it's getting old. I'm just getting this new one broken-in, and that's the fun part,” Derrick told Jacob.

  Jacob squeezed his glass tight, and he could feel his face getting red as anger and hatred consumed his body. Jacob’s discipline prevailed, however, and he replied, “Broken in? Now this you have to explain to me,” with yet another forced laugh.

  “Yeah, breaking her in. She's that good-girl type that's really a little freak dying to break out. She just needed someone to get her inner freak to come out and play, and brother, I was more than happy to oblige.”

  “I need to get myself something like that,” Jacob said to maintain the facade. “What kind of stuff do you have this girl doing?”

  “Name it, man - damn near anything you can think of. This one is straight up down for anything. I just had her over at my place earlier tonight, and I had her doing some fucked up shit. I'm telling you, bro, she eats this shit up. I could probably tell her I wanted to piss on her, and her only reaction would be begging me for more.”

  “How the hell do you get them to turn like that?” Jacob questioned Derrick.

  “I have some tricks, brother, but basically just treat a slut like a lady and treat a lady like a slut, and they'll love it. If she's a nice girl, the kind that always does the right thing, treat her like a whore and she'll love it. Don't ask me why, just is what it is.”

  “And that's all there is to it?” asked Jacob.

  “Well, not always. With this new one, the brunette, I have a secret weapon. I have something that gives me…I'll just say an unfair advantage,” Derrick said. He continued, “And on that, it's time for me to roll, Steve.”

  “Yeah, I need to get home, too. Cool meeting you, Anthony.”

  Derrick threw a few twenty-dollar bills on the bar as he said, “That should take care of everything.” Derrick patted Jacob on the back and finished with, “Now go find yourself some fun, buddy,” as he walked away.

  Jacob, completely filled with rage, watched Derrick walk through the door and out of the bar. Jacob reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out the small digital voice recorder he bought earlier in the day. The device made a small beep as he pressed the stop button. Jacob walked back to his rental car, and once inside, he pressed play on the voice recorder. Jacob heard Derrick's voice emanating from the device:

  Listen buddy, you keep your hands to yourself, I'll keep my hands to myself, and we'll get along just fine…

  I got you, you fucker! Jacob thought as he stopped playing the recording. I so got you!

  Jacob drove to the airport, and stopped in a nearby parking lot to remove the tint from the windows. He used the paper towels and glass cleaner to return the glass to its original state as it was when he rented the car. Jacob returned the rental and walked back to his own vehicle in the long-term parking garage. Jacob lo
oked at the clock on the car dash and saw it was nearly five o'clock in the morning. Completely exhausted, Jacob just reclined the front seat and fell asleep in his car.

  Chapter Eight:

  A Night to Forget

  Jacob spent the better part of the next two weeks preparing for his inevitable confrontation with Stephanie. He had the video of Stephanie with Derrick, he had the recording of his conversation with Derrick, and there was no room for Stephanie to wiggle her way out of accepting responsibility for what she was doing. Jacob also knew Derrick's derogatory description of his relationship with Stephanie would only further encourage her to be willing to end the marriage quietly – otherwise could prove humiliating for her.

  Ten days after he recorded Derrick, Jacob was in the cockpit with Mark once again. After leveling off at thirty-seven thousand feet, Mark cautiously asked, “So, how's everything going?”

  Jacob, wearing his white, short-sleeve, button down shirt with pilot lapels, slid his pilot headset from his ears. The headset ruffled his short, brown hair, and he paused before answering, “I'm not sure if the answer is good or bad.” He continued, “It's bad in that I confirmed everything, and she is cheating. It's good, though, in that I have everything I need to make sure she doesn't rake me over the coals in a divorce.”

  “I'm sorry to hear that, but I'm glad you at least have something to protect yourself,” Mark said as the cockpit bounced from a light patch of turbulence.

  “Thanks to you. If it wasn't for what you told me, I would have run in like an idiot and been left with nothing.”

  “What steps are you taking before you walk out?” Mark asked.

  “I'm being fair with her. I opened up a new bank account, at a different bank and in just my name, and I'm just going to transfer half of all our savings to it. I also signed a lease on an apartment, and I'm only going to take what I absolutely need from the house. I'll leave her with half the savings and most of the stuff in the house. Then when it's time to discuss the house, I'll be open. If she wants to keep the house for herself, she can have it. If she wants to sell it and split the equity fifty-fifty, then I'm okay with that, too. I think I'll come out of this pretty clean.”

  “Sounds like you have it all worked out,” Mark said approvingly. “When are you pulling the trigger?”

  “She thinks my next overnight flight is next Tuesday – I told her that, today. I know she'll stay out Tuesday night and not come home until Wednesday after work. That gives me all Tuesday and most of Wednesday to transfer the money from one bank to the other and get everything moved out of the house.”

  “You need any help moving?” offered Mark.

  “No, but thanks anyway. This is going to be really tough for me, and I think I need to do it alone. I know I may look like I'm holding it together pretty well, but I think I'm still in shock. Once the reality of this sets in, I'm going to fall apart. I think I need to be alone when that happens.”

  “Just let me know if you change your mind. Do you know what you're going to say to her?”

  “I'll be there when she comes home on Wednesday – I'll be there waiting. I'm not sure what I'm going to say, but it will be short and to the point. The only thing I need to figure out is how I'm going to get her car.”

  “Why do you want her car?” Mark asked perplexed.

  “Both of the cars are in my name to keep the insurance cheaper, since someone has a problem with the speed limit. My car is paid off, and I don't give a shit what she does with it, but her car still has a loan on it. The car and the loan are in my name, and if she stops paying on it, it's me that will take the hit. I trust that she'll pay on it, but I'm not taking any chances with it. So, on the way out the door, I'm taking her car and she can have mine.”

  “I know this is going to sound like a complete contradiction from what I said before, but just be cautious not to be too vindictive,” warned Mark.

  “Do you think I am? I kind of feel like I’m being pretty fair,” said Jacob.

  Mark replied, “No, I think you’re being extremely fair, but just keep it that way. Take it from someone who’s been there, this may get painful and hurtful for you, and you might want to lash out and become cruel. But someday, this will all be over. When you look back, you’ll want to know that you were the bigger person, and you didn’t stoop to a lower level.”

  “I hear you, and I think I am.”

  Mark continued, “You’re the man in this situation, so don’t forget to always act like a man.”

  Jacob thought about what Mark just said, and he replied, “You’re right. That’s why I came to you with this – I knew I could trust you to give the best advice.” Jacob smiled and changed the topic, “Now level off at thirty-seven thousand feet, and maintain a heading of zero eight six degrees at four hundred twenty knots.”

  “Flight level three seven zero, heading zero eight six, and four two zero knots,” Mark replied as he adjusted the aircraft’s auto-pilot settings, and the two flew their passengers into the heavenly blue sky.

  ***

  The following Monday night eventually arrived, but the days and nights until then were filled with awkwardness between Stephanie and Jacob. The silence in their home was deafening while neither said barely a word to the other. On Tuesday night, Stephanie broke their silence.

  “Tomorrow is your overnight flight?” she asked from the living room.

  Jacob, who was making a sandwich, replied, “Yeah, I'll be gone until Wednesday morning.”

  “I'm going to stay over at Karen's tomorrow night. I don't feel like being alone in the house.”

  Jacob, knowing this was all about to become very real, replied, “Okay, have fun.” The words were there, but the tear building in his eye showed he was reaching the limit of what he could endure.

  Stephanie was curled up on the couch. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing black workout shorts and a tank top. With her phone in her right hand and the television remote in her left, she began a text message with Derrick.

  “Guess who!” she typed.

  “My bad little princess?” Derrick quickly responded.

  “Care for some company tomorrow night?” asked Stephanie.

  “I do, but I'm in the mood to go out,” said Derrick.

  Stephanie asked, “Dinner?”

  “No,” replied Derrick, “Let's go have fun. My buddy's band is playing tomorrow night at a bar over by Boylston Street. I want to go check them out.”

  “Okay, but only if you promise me we won't be out too late. I absolutely have to be at work on Wednesday, okay?”

  Without a second thought, Derrick replied, “Pinky promise! But I have a request of you...”

  “Anything for my sexy man,” said Stephanie.

  “They’re an AC/DC cover band, and a lot of the people will dress up in school uniforms like the band did back in the eighties. I know a lot of girls go to their shows in schoolgirl outfits, and I'd love to have my own little schoolgirl there.”

  “I have the perfect thing in my closet from Halloween,” Stephanie told Derrick. “This will be so much fun!”

  ***

  The following morning, Stephanie packed her bag while Jacob slept. She dug through her closet until she found all the pieces of her outfit, and as she placed each item in her bag, she knew Derrick was going to love what he saw. Stephanie was uneasy about the idea of wearing a naughty schoolgirl outfit to a bar when it was nowhere near Halloween, but if Derrick was so willing to have that kind of fun with her, there was no way she was going to turn him down. Stephanie hadn't done anything like this in years.

  Stephanie got to work and sat at her desk when she saw a post-it note stuck to her computer monitor: “My office the second you get in!”

  The handwriting was unmistakably Bill Webber's, and Stephanie went to his office as the note instructed. “You wanted to see me, sir?”

  “Bradford, this close, I'm this close,” Webber said as he made a motion with his thumb and index finger barely spread
apart.

  “This close to what?” Stephanie asked.

  “This close to pulling you entirely off the Hutchinson case. What the hell is going on with you?”

  “Did I do something wrong, Bill?” Stephanie asked.

  Webber opened a manila folder with the printouts of three emails. He held the printouts in his hand as he said, “Bradford, you were asked three times, three god damned times, to prepare the discovery files to send to Hutchinson's defense attorneys. They were due yesterday. So, is there any reason why I have a voicemail waiting for me this morning saying they never got them?”

  “Oh no, oh no, oh no!” Stephanie exclaimed as fear rushed over her. “I forgot to send out the discovery files. I'll go do it right now.”

  “Don't bother!” Webber declared. “I've got the interns working on it, and they're almost done. And I called the defense attorney and I made up some garbage about there being an error with arranging the courier. I'm getting tired of making excuses for you, Bradford.”

  “I'm so sorry, Mr. Webber. I just have so much going...” Stephanie started to explain before she was interrupted.

  “Stop, just stop. It's been nothing but excuse after excuse over the past few months, and to be honest, I don't care what's going on in your personal life. I don't show up in your kitchen at nine o'clock at night, so don't bring your home life with you to work. One more time, Bradford, and I promise you, you'll be doing nothing but misdemeanors again.” Stephanie apologized again, until Webber replied, “No Bradford, I'm sorry I trusted you with this.”