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"Hey, are you okay?" I heard a voice. It was my wife's voice. Was she calling out to me? Was she worried about me? Her voice brought comfort to me, as I was on the verge of breaking down from a series of painful experiences.
I had always thought of my wife as an accessory to my life. She was my partner, so she only cared for me. But the reality that this wasn't the case was stark, and I was left distraught. Then, in the midst of all this, I found comfort in my wife's caring voice.
I was shaken, and consciousness began to return. But my body wouldn't move. I couldn't feel anything. I couldn't even open my eyes. Was I still unconscious? Was I refusing to wake up? I couldn't tell if this was a dream or reality. Was I doomed to continue looping through this endless dream?
I collapsed in the living room, unconscious. And as if taking advantage of the situation, the men in the kitchen began to rape my wife. Despite me, her husband, being there, she moaned and simply gave herself over to pleasure. Was she caring for me? I realized that it was just an illusion in my mind. My fantasy.
I should have been prepared for what was happening after watching the DVD. I knew it wasn't just an affair, that it was escalating rapidly. But now, the reality that unfolded before my eyes was beyond my imagination. Was my wife no longer the wife I knew? I didn't know what to do. No, I couldn't think of where to start. Confusion? Fear of knowing? Running away from facing reality? I was refusing to think clearly. I couldn't even move my arms or legs.
The men played with my wife as if I wasn't there. I could only watch, unable to do anything, as if my consciousness was the only thing present.
In the very place where my wife always cooked for me and the children, she was being violated from behind, her hands on the kitchen counter. The man was filming as if savoring her. The time when we cooked there and ate together as a family of four at the table felt like an eternity ago. Now, my wife was being violated in that very place. I wondered if they were mocking me for not being able to do anything. The man was squeezing her breasts and moving his hips. I could hear the man's heavy breathing. Was he excited by the idea of raping a married woman in the house she shared with her husband, and filming it? My wife's moans drowned out the sound of his breathing.
I lay there, a complete bystander, just like the furniture in the room. This was supposed to be my house… I didn't want to wake up like this. I wasn't that strong. My consciousness became increasingly consumed by negative thoughts. My wife's moans grew louder, as if to pull back my fading consciousness. Doing that with a man other than me… What was she thinking? Was she looking at me? Did she know I existed? What expression was she making, and where was she looking? How long had this been going on? Were the kids still not home? Where were they? If I got home now, where were they?
I could feel my consciousness beginning to return. I couldn't hear anything. I opened my eyes, and the detective was shaking me. What happened? Was I dreaming? I felt a sliver of hope, but when I looked around the house where the detective was, those hopes were dashed. It was reality after all.
"Are you okay?" I could clearly hear the detective's voice. It seemed I'd been lying on the sofa.
"Was I unconscious?" I asked, gradually regaining my consciousness.
"Yes, the men hit you… for about a minute or two. I was thinking about calling an ambulance," the detective replied.
"Oh, where are they?" I asked.
"They just left," he said.
"Where's my wife?"
I looked at the detective's face. He met my eyes and pointed toward the table. I looked where he was pointing. My wife was standing next to the table.
As if trying to shake off the weight in my head, I stood up and turned to face her. I felt anger and indignation toward the men who had left. Trying to suppress it, I asked my wife, "What do you mean?"
It was all I could say. I didn't know whether to be angry or sad. Objectively speaking, I should be angry. But my mind couldn't get used to this surreal thing happening right now.
"I'm sorry," my wife began.
"Were you cheating on me? No, it's not even a question of cheating. Did you work for an adult video company? As an adult video actress?" I hesitated to say these words. I didn't know if what those men said was true or not. But if I said it and heard my wife's response, I felt like I was heading to a place from which there was no return. I wanted to get out of this mess. That was my deepest desire. And that's exactly why I didn't want to hear it from my wife. But there was no escape. I told myself that.
"What those men said…" I started.
I could tell my wife was afraid to speak. She moved her mouth, trying to speak again and again, but no words came out. It was an unbearable silence. But it was a necessary silence. My wife hesitated, shifting her gaze to the corner of the room, then to me, unable to make up her mind. Her indecision only made the atmosphere in the room heavier. Finally, she looked me in the eyes with a determined look.
"It's true," she admitted.
Her eyes were filled with tears, threatening to spill at any moment. Why was she crying? I expected to be overcome with anger, but all I felt was a sense of loss. Why couldn't I be angry? I shouldn't be angry. If I really cared about my wife, I shouldn't be angry. But perhaps my feelings toward her had gone beyond anger.
"I have no choice but to apologize. Someone like me has no right to talk to you," she said in a tearful voice, speaking in polite language.
I felt like our relationship was gradually opening up. Maybe she was being threatened, maybe she had some kind of weakness. But right now, I couldn't bring myself to defend her. I wasn't sure if I was calm or if I lacked the energy, but I just listened calmly.
"Qualifications don't matter. Tell me everything in your own words. Why did you appear in adult videos? Was it for money?" I asked.
"It wasn't money," my wife said, continuing to cry.
"If it wasn't money, then what? Did they have some weakness over you, or was it just an affair?" I asked, gradually getting used to the fact that what we were talking about was real, my mind starting to clear.
"No… It wasn't an affair… I cared about you and our children… I…" Her emotions were increasingly overflowing.
"Just calm down. Sit in a chair," I said, and helped my wife sit down. I sat on the chair across the table from her and asked the detective to sit on the sofa.
First, I had to wait until she calmed down. I waited about five minutes for her to stop crying. Once she had calmed down, she began to speak.
"No matter what I say, it's just an excuse for what I did, so there's nothing I can do other than apologize. But…" she started.
I interrupted her. "I understand that now, so please tell me in detail what happened. It's fine if it's an excuse or whatever, just tell me what you want to say. How did it end up like this?"
I didn't know if she had chosen it herself or if she had been forced into this situation. But for now, I had no choice but to listen from her perspective. My wife began to answer.
"I never intended to appear in adult videos or cheat on you. When I was at my previous company, a client invited me out for drinks… I turned him down… but he kept asking me out…"
Was she invited out for drinks? Was it the man named S that the men earlier had been talking about?
"Did it all start when you went out drinking with that client?" I asked.
"Yes, the person in charge at that client company was very tyrannical, and he would get upset every time I refused, and it even affected our company's business deals, and we started competing…" she explained.
"And then?" I pressed.
"I was scared that if I refused to go out drinking and it affected the deal, I would be held responsible… I know that all of this sounds like excursions to you, but I was scared…" she said.
"So, even if it's an excuse, just tell me the truth! Didn't the person in charge know you were married? Why did you accept such an unreasonable invitation?" I asked.
"I'm sorry, but I knew he was married too… But he still invited me out, and I had no choice… so I went out for drinks," she admitted.
"So that's when you started a mature relationship?" I asked.
"He said it was just to go out for drinks once, so I went along, but he invited me out many times after that, and we went out a few times, and then… that's how it became," she said.
That's the kind of relationship it was. I thought I'd be shocked when she told me again that she'd had a relationship with another man. But I didn't feel anything. I just felt weak. Maybe it's because I'd already watched the DVD.
"So… so that's how you ended up having an affair?" I asked.
"No. He made me drink alcohol, and I was drunk… but I wouldn't have been with someone like that…" she said, tears welling up in her eyes again.
She continued, "But I got more and more scared that my company or you would find out what I was doing, so I had no choice but to go along with what he said… and so we started seeing each other."
I felt angry at the man S's servile ways. Wasn't it the same as taking advantage of her weakness and threatening her? Still, I pretended to be calm and asked, "And then that man introduced you to the AV company?"
"I wasn't even aware that it was an adult video company. I just got to the point where I couldn't go back," she said.
She wasn't aware? What did that mean? My wife continued talking.
"They brought that man from before and forced me into a relationship. They threatened me with the photos and videos they'd taken, so I had no choice but to meet them," she explained.
"And so they were filming you?" I asked.
"I didn't know it was being filmed… I didn't know it was being sold. I just heard about it," she said.
"You saw the DVD in the car. How can you say you didn't know when you were being filmed like that?" I pressed.
"I'm sorry, but I really didn't know, and the men from before told me I changed jobs to my current company… But I still work in an office. So I'm not an adult video actress!" she insisted.
My wife didn't show any surprise. So she knew I was watching her DVDs after all. And she was working in an office? My confusion was deepening. Was it something so deeply rooted that it couldn't be understood from just a few minutes of conversation?
"Why did you even have to change jobs in the first place?" I asked.
"I was scared…" she said, completely in tears.
Was she being told to change companies? Just listening to her story, didn't my wife seem like a complete victim? Hadn't she been through so much pain that she cried her eyes out?
"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked.
"I couldn't tell you! You saw the DVD, didn't you? Who would protect me if they saw me in that state? I couldn't talk to anyone about it… There was nothing I could do…" she said, her emotions erupting as if everything she had been holding back until then had suddenly burst forth.
This wasn't about whether the police would take action or not. This wasn't about evidence or anything like that. What the men were doing was a crime.
"I'm going to call the police now," I told my wife.
I got an unexpected response: "Stop! I don't want to get hurt any more…"
Was she still protecting the men?
"How can you not tell the police after getting caught up in a crime?" I asked.
"If I tell the police… what will I do…" she said.
Was she worried that the DVD would be seen? The DVD could certainly be used as evidence, but it would be meaningless unless my wife admitted to its existence. There was no other evidence. My wife had to admit to the DVD and then present it as evidence.
After a brief silence, the detective spoke. While we were talking alone, I realized I'd forgotten the detective was there.
"I understand how your wife feels. Because of my job, I have the opportunity to talk to all kinds of people, and it seems that many women, especially rape victims, choose to just accept their situation and not go to the police. This is because telling the police would mean admitting that they'd been raped, and having to tell everything during questioning can be very daunting for women. Surely your wife can feel the same way? Of course, now that we know they weren't doing it of her own volition, what they did was a crime, so we can't just leave it at that. But isn't your wife your number one priority right now?"
The detective was probably worried about my wife. But to me, his words sounded like he was just trying to protect the men.
"So you want us to just act like nothing happened? Are you on their side?" I spat at the detective in a harsh tone.
"That's not what I meant. It's your wife who will be hurt. Besides, like the men said, there's nothing we can do unless you first come forward and say that your wife is the victim," he replied.
I grew increasingly frustrated by this situation.
"I'm going to your company now. I'll settle things with the men. I won't let them contact you again. And I'll have to hand over your video," I said to my wife.
She continued, her head hanging. "Those men aren't at the company. They're not employees of the company. It's just a regular video production company. The president is just running this for his personal use among his friends, so the other employees don't know anything."
They weren't employees? What did that mean? Did that mean my wife was being played with as a personal hobby of the president? But the men said it was a business. So they were doing it without telling the lower-level employees! Anyway, nothing would happen unless I talked to the men.
"Then make a call!" I said.
My wife looked me in the eye for a while, not moving. Was it because she didn't want to make a call? I couldn't tell if it was because of her feelings toward the men or because she was hesitant about me. I continued to look her in the eye without saying anything. After what seemed like about 30 seconds of frozen silence, my wife picked up her cell phone and started making a call.
I didn't have time to think about whether I could forgive my wife or not. I just had to cut ties with the men. It wasn't a question of whether I could or couldn't; I just had to keep taking action.
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