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The Unfaithful Husband (standard:drama, 1298 words)
Author: akAdded: Jun 26 2003Views/Reads: 3841/2413Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A middle aged Vietmanese woman and her unfaithful husband come terms. But exactly whose terms will they be?
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

arm and finally controlled himself. 

“Tran, is it that obvious that I'm a lousy student?”  “How did you know,
we barely know each other?”  Mike pried incredulously. 

“Well, we were in the same section, and I saw that you got a D on the
Cost Analysis paper we were supposed to write for Professor Blanton.” 
Tran replied quickly.  Actually, she often looked at the tall blond 
young man and wondered why he was in school at all. She thought he 
should be an actor, or athlete. 

“I'm sorry I laughed, but really, I am relieved” He blurted out. 
Suddenly his confidence was gone.  “My dad is paying for my education, 
and he has threatened to cut off all my expenses if I fail this class.” 
He admitted in an embarrassed tone. “Seriously, I was too shy to ask 
for help, but, yeah, I would even pay you $50.00 an hour to do my 
work.” 

He sat down on the nearest café bench, and indicated to Tran to sit next
to him. 

“I broke up with my girlfriend this semester, and things have been
rough, I haven't been able to concentrate.  It is not that school is 
boring, I want to learn, but I've been down since Cynthia left me.” 
Mike confessed the latter part sheepishly.  He knew people assumed that 
women flocked to him but in reality, they took advantage of him, and 
often broke his heart. 

“Tran lets begin right now.” Mike clamped his hand on Tran's thin brown
wrist and looked directly at her. 

“It's a deal” said Tran, and for no reason, she put her hand on his as
well. 

By the end of the semester, Tran had earned enough money from Mike, and
other classmates she worked for, that she was able to pay the bills. 

Then, the bills stopped.  With that, Sam disappeared from her life. 

She felt a relief that she had never known.  Her sense of pride and her
sense of dignity were finally restored.  If she thought of him at all, 
it was with a sense of pity mixed with an ounce of gratitude. 

He had rescued her from her impoverished life in Vietnam.  He had worked
hard, at first, to make her feel secure in the United States.  He had 
changed, that was all, thought Tran, and he became selfish and 
childish, and jealous.  She reminded herself of this so as not to feel 
any pain. 

When Tran graduated, she got a job with the US Government in accounting.
 Her position was a good one, and she had respect, as well as a good 
income. 

One day, her private line rang.  It was Sam. 

“Hello Tran” his voice sounded tired and scared. “I need money, I need
you, I need you to come back to me,” he said these words in a pleading 
way that made Tran cringe. 

“Sam...Sam...?” Her first instinct was to hang up the phone.  She had
come too far for her former life to haunt her now.  Her co workers knew 
nothing of her past, and that was fine with her.  “I can't talk now” 
she said quietly and quickly, “Give me your number, and I will call you 
later.”  She said the latter in tones that let him know she was 
serious. 

“777-909-9877, and ask for room 5,” Sam said weakly, and then the line
went dead. 

Tran wrote the number down hastily, folded the paper, and stuffed it
into her pocket. 

She had no intention of giving him money.  But part of her wanted to
talk to him one last time. 

She weighed her choices in terms of their costs and benefits.  Calling
Sam back would put his ghost to rest.  There would be no more thoughts 
of him. She would be free. 

The single cost was in reviving the “old Tran.”  She shuddered at
memories of that mute, meek woman who unquestioningly served her 
husband.  That woman was best dead and buried. 

And with that she made up her mind.  She took the slip of paper from her
pocket, tore it into tiny pieces, and let them fall from her hand into 
the waste basket. 


   


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