I quickly hit pause again when I felt someone standing over me. It was the waitress.

She placed my salmon bagel down in front of me and noticed I was crying. She put her hand softly on my shoulder.

“You’re really having a couple of hard days, aren’t you?” she said.

I looked up at her, confused.

“I was at the brewery last night,” she said. “I saw everything that went down. I want to say that you handled yourself with class.”

“I didn’t feel classy at the time,” I said, wiping the tears from my face.

She squeezed my shoulder affectionately. “You handled yourself very well. He was being an asshole and everyone knew it.”

I let out a little sob of relief. It was good to know people didn’t think I’d started that scene.

“Ugh. I’m such a mess. I’m sorry for causing a scene.” “You’re not causing a scene at all, don’t worry. Is everything okay?” “You’re right, it has been a hard couple of days, but I’m okay. Thank you so much for looking out for me.” “Well, let me know if you need anything. Or just move over to the counter if you want someone to talk to. I know we don’t know each other, but I promise I’m a really good listener. My name is Sandra.”

She put her hand out to shake mine.

“I’m Meadow. It’s nice to meet you, Sandra. Thank you for being so kind.”

The kitchen rang the bell and she left to grab an order. As she walked away, I slouched back down and hit play on the video. I watched with a tight knot in my stomach as the bikers stripped Matt naked. It was weird. Not at all what I’d been expecting to see. At least they weren’t beating him to a bloody pulp, I thought with a slight feeling of relief.

I kept watching and it just got weirder and weirder. Instead of beating him up, they bent him over the bed and took turns spanking his butt! I’m sure it was very traumatic for Matt but I couldn’t help let out a little giggle. They’d promised to give him what he deserved and I felt that’s what they really were doing.

They weren’t being gentle at all and his ass turned bright pink as he squealed for them to stop. I could tell they didn’t intend to hurt him, but they sure did mean to humiliate him. They were there to teach him a lesson.

Given the fear and shame on Matt’s face, it was working. He was in tears, begging them to stop.

The guy holding the camera walked toward Matt. He held his hand in front of Matt’s face and in it was my wedding band.

I became paralyzed with fear and guilt. The second Matt saw it was my ring, the ring he placed on my finger the day we vowed to love and protect each other, he’d know I allowed this to happen.

I wanted to throw up.

The guy spoke to Matt with a stern, cold voice.

“You fucked up your marriage, now let’s show you how it feels to be fucked.”

The bikers were laughing. They handed Matt a bottle of lotion and the ring and it was clear what he was expected to do. I couldn’t believe it!

I almost laughed out loud as I watched Matt shake his head. The men were insistent though, and reluctantly, Matt shoved the wedding ring up his ass.

I couldn’t help it. I bit my lip and covered my mouth. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Talk about poetic justice!

I felt awful for Matt, but there was something so satisfying about it. I didn’t even know who these men were, or how they knew Matt was a cheater, but it felt really, really good to have my honor defended by them.

Finally, someone was standing up for the housewife! Finally, someone was showing the hotshot, cheating husband that he was an asshole, and that his behavior was unacceptable. Finally someone wasn’t afraid to say what they thought of men like him, men who cheated on women who loved them. For years, I’d kept Matt’s cheating to myself. I told no one, not even my best friends. I protected his guilty secret better than even he did. I was so mortified, so ashamed. I felt certain that his cheating was my fault, that I was somehow inadequate. And for years I didn’t even tell Matt I knew what he was doing.

I just couldn’t face it. I couldn’t bear that it was real.

It took a lot of courage for me to eventually open up. I told a few close friends what I was dealing with. I told them Matt was cheating and that I felt like my heart was being ripped out of my chest and thrown in the gutter.

These were the women I felt closest to in the world, the ones I shared everything with. We lived in the same neighborhood, had similar lifestyles, and had married similar men. Every one of them told me to shut up about it. They told me not to rock the boat. Ignore it. They said I needed Matt, that I couldn’t survive without him, and that I should consider myself lucky to have a man who could give me such a luxurious life.

Boys will be boys, they said. I was shocked. I couldn’t believe it.

I felt so helpless.

Sitting there now, watching those men teach Matt a lesson, I didn’t feel helpless anymore. I finally felt vindicated. The video ended with Matt lying naked on the bed, shaking, my wedding ring shoved up his ass. They could have beaten the crap out of Matt easily. They could have killed him. But instead, they videotaped this and sent it to me. They were sticking up for me.

They understood that Matt had destroyed me, destroyed my love, my confidence, my feelings of self worth, and they took action.

I replayed the video and it was difficult to say how I felt. There’d been a time when I loved Matt so much I would have died for him. From the moment I met him, I loved him. The entire time we were together, I tried to be the perfect woman for him. I worked to keep things fresh and exciting. I made sure I always met his needs, in and out of the bedroom. I learned the names of his business associates and made friends with their wives. I kept the house tidy. I cooked and cleaned. I always looked my best. I encouraged him when he was starting his company.

I never so much as looked at another man. I didn’t need to, Matt was my everything.

We had the most amazing honeymoon together. We were so happy and so in love. I felt like I had hit the jackpot. We spent two weeks in a secluded, luxury hut on the crystal clear waters of Bora Bora. When we were planning our honeymoon, we had every intention of going out and exploring the island, but all we did for two weeks straight was have sex. Hot, passionate, intense sex, and it was amazing. We consummated our love all over every inch of our tropical honeymoon home. I was in heaven.

When we got home, Matt immediately had to leave for a conference in New York. I was fine with it. I was happy he was succeeding in his career. I pictured him bragging to his work friends about all the amazing sex we’d had on our honeymoon. Within a day of him leaving, every inch of my body longed for him. I wanted to be close to him, and more than that, I wanted to feel him inside me again.

I was completely his, completely addicted to him. I couldn’t imagine life without him.

So I decided to surprise him. I was positive he’d be as thrilled to see me as I’d have been if he surprised me. I booked a flight to New York and eight hours later, I was hailing a cab from JFK to his hotel. The entire cab ride, I was wet, picturing what we’d do to each other in his hotel room. It would be like our honeymoon, all over again.

With some gentle sweet talking of the front desk staff of the hotel, and the help of our marriage certificate, I was able to get a key to Matt’s room. He had been texting me earlier in the morning, telling me how much he missed me, and that he couldn’t wait to get home to me. I couldn’t wait to see his face when he got back to his room and found me lying there, naked, handcuffed to his bed.

I squirmed with anticipation as I rode the elevator up to his suite. As I walked down the hallway, I felt giddy and had butterflies. Even though we’d dated for years before getting married, he still gave me butterflies. I thought it was a sign our love was real. I was so excited to surprise him. I slid the key in the slot, opened the door, and dropped my bags to the floor.   A very blonde, very naked woman was bouncing up and down on my new husband’s lap. He was thrusting powerfully into her, his back to me, and her huge breasts bounced with each thrust. She saw me instantly and started to scream. Matt took it as a sign of her pleasure and pounded her even harder.

I was in utter shock. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t think. I almost blacked out.

I was treated to the sight of him reaching up and grabbing her breasts as she continued to scream, louder and louder. His thrusts grew more forceful and then he gasped, forced himself deeper inside her, and moaned in the ecstasy of an orgasm I thought was reserved only for me.

He never even heard me open the door. The girl was still screaming but I think it was her orgasm, rather than my unexpected arrival, that was the cause of her excitement.

I didn’t know what to do. I shook my head in disbelief. The woman’s eyes locked on mine as she finished climaxing. She must have known who I was. It was so obvious. I must have looked so pathetic to her, so weak. I shook my head and lifted my finger to my lips.

She understood instantly.

I picked up my bag, backed out of the room, and shut the door as quietly as I could. I have no idea how Matt’s date with her ended, if she left quickly or spent the rest of the week fucking his brains out, but I know she never mentioned my presence to Matt. He never knew what I’d seen.

I walked back to the elevator like a zombie. I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t think, I couldn’t even breathe. I managed to push the elevator button and as the doors shut behind me, I burst into tears of such anguish I thought I’d die. I was so shocked I couldn’t stand. I fell to the floor and sobbed like an idiot.

I couldn’t believe what had just happened.

The elevator slowed as it approached the lobby and I forced myself to pull it together. I wiped my face, got to my feet, and straightened myself out. When the doors opened I strode across the lobby with my bags and never looked at the front desk staff who’d just given me the key. I don’t even know if they noticed me leave. I got straight into a cab and twelve hours later I was back in my house.

But it didn’t feel the same. It wasn’t home anymore. It was just four walls filled with expensive furniture and fancy things I didn’t care about. I never said a word of my trip to anyone.

But I was never the same person again.

Matt got home and I kissed him on the cheek like a dutiful wife. I asked him how his trip was and he said he was exhausted. I asked if he needed anything and he gave me a bag full of dirty laundry.

I felt I’d already failed as a wife. I felt it was my fault and I had to work harder to make it up to him. I felt I wasn’t good enough for him. Even as I smelled the other woman’s perfume from his clothes when I did the laundry, I told myself it was all my fault. I died that day. Not physically, but emotionally.

Watching those bikers force Matt to shove my wedding ring up his ass was probably the only thing in the world that could have brought me back to life. I sat there, pressing play on the video on my phone, over and over. Each time I watched it, I felt my heart come a little more back to life.

After watching it about fifty times, I opened my email, clicked on The Brotherhood’s email address, and wrote a two word response.

Thank You.