118 comments/ 144504 views/ 28 favorites Hook, Lie and Sinker By: Ntropy586 Michael Thompson looked yet again at the clock on the dashboard, certain that at least ten minutes had passed since the last time he looked (though the clock said it was only two minutes later). Every minute behind the wheel let him feeling confined; he wanted to get home as quickly as possible, where he could share his good news with his wife, Veronica! His annual performance review had been today - a complete surprise to him, as it was a full three months early. Even now, the meeting played back in his mind. Receiving a summons to his Regional Vice President's office, Michael had entered to find his personnel folder on the desk before Don, his boss. The next twenty minutes could best be described as a meeting of the Michael Thompson fan club, as Don went from one glowing commendation to another. However, it was the last ten minutes of the meeting that Michael considered to be the highlight of his day; heck, the highlight of his career! "I've been discussing this with the other Vice Presidents," Don explained, "and we'd like to offer you a choice between two positions." Michael could only sit there, stunned, as Don continued. "Your first option would be to formally take my old position, heading up the department," Don informed him. This wasn't entirely unexpected, as Michael had been pretty much doing the job already. "Your other option," Don continued, suddenly breaking into a grin, "would be to head up the team that will be launching our new Sydney, Australia, location." Michael was certain that the look on his face was priceless, being equal parts shock and confusion. Don, for his part, just chuckled and waited for his friend and subordinate to process what he'd just heard. After a few moments, he continued where he'd left off. "In a nutshell, you'd be promoted to a Regional Vice President position, and would be responsible for our Australian operations," Don concluded, pushing a piece of paper across the desk for Michael to review. The benefits outlined were generous, to put it mildly. Taking a long moment to compose himself, he gently returned the page to the desktop and directed his attention to the bearer of such glad tidings. "I'd love to be able to give you an answer right now," he began, "but I can't do so until I have the chance to discuss this with Veronica." "I understand," replied Don. "Why don't you take the rest of the day off, and you can give me your answer in three weeks." At last, Michael's car pulled into his driveway, the clock on the dash reading 2:05. Practically bouncing in his seat as he waited for the garage door to finish opening, he was surprised to see the garage empty. Veronica must have had a meeting somewhere, he realized, and decided to wait until she returned home to surprise her with his good news. After a few minutes thought, Michael decided that he could make the most of this opportunity and take care of those projects around the house that he'd been meaning - okay, promising - to get done for these long months. A quick trip to the master bedroom saw him shortly changed into jeans and a ratty tee-shirt, and he began his new chores with a vengeance. One by one, all those "honey-do" items were being crossed off. Finally, the only task left was to tackle "his" office - oddly enough, she called it his when it needed cleaning, though they both made ample use of it. But this thought wasn't one he considered as he entered the room, a large garbage bag in his hand. He had decided that the mound (or mountain) of clutter on the desk should be the first thing to go, so he reviewed each item before setting it aside for filing...or "circular filing" it right then and there in the previously-mentioned garbage bag. "Junk mail, junk mail, junk mail," he muttered as he scanned each item. Suddenly, he stopped. The page in his hand was a credit card statement, one that he was certain Veronica had canceled months ago. He quickly checked the date, and found that the statement was current. His eyes, however, continued down the page, where the lingerie stores and men's clothing stores didn't stand out nearly as much as the five lines from the Sheraton Hotel downtown. Michael's world suddenly shut down, as his mind retreated to those happier times in the past. Michael was the oldest of four children, born to Henry and Janice Thompson. Raised in Sandusky, Ohio, he had been a bright student and had gone on to Ohio State University on an academic scholarship, where he pursued a degree in Information Systems and Technology. While not really shy, he also had no need to be terribly outgoing. He attended the occasional party, made friends, and dated from time to time. His studies, however, were his first priority...until he met Veronica Kelly. He had found himself at an outdoor party, one of those "last gasp" bashes before the spring semester ended and everyone left for the summer. People, perhaps realizing that their time there was coming to an end, seemed to party harder, to play rougher, to be louder and more outrageous. At parties like that one, anything could - and sometimes did - happen, and it was for that very reason that Michael didn't normally attend them. However, the guest of honor was a good friend of his who was completing his final semester, so Michael had decided to stop in for a beer or two. It only took a moment, really, for chance to bring the two of them together. Both had been waiting in line for a beer when someone had an accident and sent two full glasses of brew flying in their direction. Neither Michael nor the girl in front of him had come away unscathed, he remembered. The beer that had hit him had soaked the front of his shorts, while the she had found her shirt completely soaked. While embarrassed for his own state of being, Michael found himself mortified by the situation this unknown woman found herself in - though, truth be told, he also couldn't help but notice just how attractive she was, now that the liquid had turned her white blouse into a sheer see-through garment. To her everlasting relief, suddenly there was a large, denim button-down shirt thrust into her hands, and Michael, now in just his tee-shirt and sopping-wet shorts, helped rush her to the nearest bathroom, where she quickly donned the dry (and opaque) garment. Michael, now that the girl had been taken care of, truly realized just how embarrassing a situation he was in. Stopping only long enough to let his friend (the guest of honor) know what had happened, he beat a hasty retreat back to his apartment, chalking the entire knight up to the fickle nature of life in general (and fate in particular). It was three days later that he suddenly found himself face to face with the girl from the party. Standing outside his apartment door, he found her absolutely intriguing as she returned the shirt he had donated - and had thought was gone forever. It turned out that she had asked around at the party and had spoken with his friend, the guest of honor, who had given her his address. They parted with each others' phone numbers, which led to coffee, then to a date, followed by dating and - at long last - to engagement and marriage. Michael recalled how all their friends said they made a beautiful couple, and he supposed it was true in Veronica's case. Five feet, seven inches tall, and weighing all of 120 pounds, with hair a lustrous and rich brown with red accents, a million-megawatt smile, and green eyes, she had an almost enchanting beauty to her. Her body, while most definitely possessing all the right curves in the right places, was also remarkably athletic and toned. No, she'd never walk a New York runway, but hers was a timeless beauty that may have seen Greece launch a thousand ships at one time. Michael was no slouch himself, though he was one of those men who really didn't know just how attractive women found him. Two inches over six feet tall, he was trim and muscular, having been involved in martial arts since childhood. The exercise had been a wonderful way to take out his teenage angst, and had benefited his body wonderfully, though most wouldn't notice this - Michael wasn't vain enough to wander around naked to the waist for no reason whatsoever. But an attractive couple they most certainly were, and upon graduation Michael went to work for a major player in the information security and encryption field, while Veronica put her degree in business management to good use and began working for a local charity as their office manager. Their marriage was a simple affair. Neither was much for horse-drawn carriages or flocks of doves flying to celebrate. Instead, they focused on making a wonderful event for themselves and their guests. It was a testament to the two that virtually every single person invited attended, and the church was filled to overflowing for their nuptials. The reception was a heady affair, with laughter, tears of joy, and happiness in ready abundance, Michael recalled. But it wasn't all happiness and joy, and Michael soon found himself recalling how, after five years of marriage, Veronica approached him to discuss starting a family. By this time, Michael had been earning enough to pay all their bills for quite some time, and she had set all her income aside so that they could make a down-payment on a house; this would be the perfect time for her to quit taking the pill and for them to start building a family. It was a major decision, and they discussed it for quite some time before he at last was comfortable that they weren't rushing into this blindly. A smile crept across Michael's face as he recalled the joy of their eager attempts to "get pregnant". The nights - and the more than occasional day - of wild sexual abandon. But the smile evaporated as his memories continued. The days and nights trying to conceive grew into weeks and months, and eventually they both sought medical assistance to make sure everything was fine. It wasn't. To Veronica's dismay, she learned that she was incapable of conceiving, as her eggs weren't maturing in her body prior to her monthly "cycle". The end result was that she could carry a child, though it wouldn't have her genetic material. Michael was her rock during this time, there for her to cling to, to steady and support her, to provide some stability in her now-chaotic world. He did his utmost to not only tell her, but show her, just how he felt about her, and that he was truly blessed in that she was a part of his life. Between his love and support, as well as the services of a therapist, Veronica slowly reclaimed her life and her bearings. However, now that pregnancy was out of the picture, Veronica had swung to the opposite end of the spectrum and no longer wished to have a house full of children. Adoption was a taboo subject, as Michael soon discovered, as was IVF or other possible procedures. Instead, Veronica announced her intention to return to charity work, but this time as a volunteer. "I can do so much more work this way," she explained. "Before, I could only manage one office, but now I can volunteer for a variety of programs that I feel drawn to." Michael truly wanted the best for her and, even though he was surprised that she chose to just announce her decision instead of discussing the possibility as they both usually did, he again put his complete support and encouragement behind her choice. The years went by, and sure, both Michael and Veronica became accustomed to their circumstances and lifestyle. No longer newlyweds, they still found themselves enjoying the youthful explorations of each other two or three times each week. Or, at least, they did until things at work had become so chaotic over the past seven months. Between Michael's exhaustion and the sheer number of hours spent at the office, their love making had dropped to twice a week, then once a week, and then to every other week. Don't be misled: Michael wasn't obsessed with his work. In fact, he noticed that he was responsible for their dwindling love life and, as was his way, he sat down with Veronica to discuss things with her. Veronica, he remembered, hadn't said a negative word whatsoever, instead telling him that she understood the pressures he was under, and that it was her time to be there for him. At the end of their discussion, he made his own private commitment to take more naps, and to make sure that he'd be able to give his love the attention that she deserved. ...and for a few weeks, things seemed to improve. Lovemaking jumped to twice a week, then three times a week. True to his word, Michael tried to work smarter, rather than harder, and focused on resting throughout the day so that he could be there for his wife at night. But again, the downward spiral recommenced. Three nights became two, then one, then again to every other week. When asked, Veronica explained that she was doing this for him, and that she was sure that, once things were resolved at work, they'd more than make up for it all. They hadn't made love in almost a month, Michael now realized. He had become so focused on keeping things under control at work and on simply loving his wife at home, that he hadn't even considered the last time they'd made love. Now, it seemed, he knew why she wasn't concerned. But, Michael quickly realized, he didn't actually know. He certainly had his suspicions, but he was not the type of man who would just allow a suspicion to be treated as a solid fact. Oddly enough, it was this realization that brought him back to the present. He'd have to talk with Veronica, he knew; perhaps there was a logical reason why these charges were appearing, and on a card which he had been led to believe she had closed. Perhaps he was mistaken, that it was another account which he was thinking of, and that these purchases were something she did for her charity work. Still, there was that subtle little voice in the back of his mind, questioning those possibilities. It was now after 7:00, and still Veronica hadn't returned. More than five hours had passed since he returned home, and over two had elapsed since he discovered the mysterious credit card statement. Michael was now sitting in his den with two fingers of Jack Daniels Single Barrel in a glass over ice, and was slowly sipping the burning amber liquid while he mentally ran through various ways to bring up the matter with his wife. Finally, at 8:05, the sound of the garage door opening made its way through the house. Sitting in the den, Michael watched as his wife hurried into the house, a nervous look on her face. When she saw him in the den, her nervous look was quickly replaced with a smile that seemed a bit out of place with her slightly-disheveled appearance. There wasn't any one thing that glaringly stood out of place, but everything seemed just a little, well, off. Her hair was slightly messy, but not a mess. Her clothes appeared well-worn, though not rumpled. But taken as a whole, it was disquieting none the less. "You're home early, honey," Veronica said, still standing in the kitchen, virtually as far as she possibly could get yet still remain in his line of sight. "When did you get home?" Michael opened his mouth to answer, but for some reason the words did not come out as he had intended. "Oh, a little while ago. Where were you, honey?" "Oh, I got a call around 4:00 letting me know there was an emergency meeting at 6:00," came her reply. So I quickly changed and headed out." Perhaps it was the bourbon which allowed him to keep his face neutral and friendly, when the obvious lie hit him, or perhaps it's a testament to the nature of the man that he could stick to his principles until he had proof one way or the other. Either way, Michael simply smiled and allowed her blatant lie to be treated as truth. Sure enough, Veronica made her way out of the kitchen, avoiding the den entirely, and headed upstairs. As soon as he heard the shower running, his mind shifted gears and he began heading down an entirely different path. Grabbing pen and paper, his list quickly took shape, and with it, a plan. The rest of the night was tense and relaxed at the same time. For Michael, it was tense in that he was now adamant that he not allow Veronica to know that he had caught her lie, nor that she learn that her use of the allegedly-canceled card was discovered as well. Veronica, on the other hand, was blissfully ignorant of all this, and continued with her nightly routine as if, as she believed, all was well. Pleading exhaustion, Michael headed up early to bed, and when Veronica joined him later he made sure his breathing was even and slow, so that she would hopefully assume he was sleeping. His acting was good, and she nodded off shortly after crawling under the covers. The next day Michael went in to work early, caught up on the absolutely essential duties of his dual position, then told his secretary that he had a meeting out of the office and that he may not be back before the end of the day. Promising to have his cell phone with him and turned on, he left his office to start the truly important work for the day. First he stopped in to see Bill White, the head of security for the company. While avoiding any particular details regarding his situation, he managed to give a general explanation about what his problem was, and asked for him to recommend a private investigator. Bill, however, did one better, and called ahead to schedule a rush appointment. With a name and an address in his pocket, he at last left the building. Samuel Henry was a perfectly ordinary man, Michael observed. None of his features were such as to stand out, and Michael could easily imagine that the man could virtually disappear in a small crowd. What wasn't ordinary, however, was the glowing review that Bill White had given him, in which he'd praised this former police detective highly. "So why don't you describe the nature of your problem," Sam Henry began, once the two men were seated. This time, Michael held nothing back. From his discovery of the credit card statement to the blatant lie he had been told when his wife found him home before her, it all came out. Alas for Michael, so did the tears; he hadn't cried while this was all happening, but now that he was recounting it for someone else, it seemed he just could not stop. To his credit, Sam neither looked away nor looked embarrassed. Instead, he politely waited for the other man to regain his composure. At last, the tale (and the tears) came to an end, and Sam continued. "To make sure we're both in agreement," Sam's voice reassuringly said, "you wish for my firm to determine whether your wife is, in fact, carrying on an affair, and to provide you with any and all information however things turn out." "Exactly," came the reply. "At this point, all I have is a lie, some credit card charges that do not make sense, and a lot of questions. I need proof, one way or the other, so that I can properly decide what to do with my life." The next ten minutes saw Michael writing a check for a rather hefty retainer, as well as signing several forms which would allow for recording devices to be placed within his house and in her car, as the title was in his name. After leaving, Michael made his way to an outdoor cafe where, under the green and white umbrella which was thrust through the outdoor table he sat at, he called his bank and his credit card companies, asking them to provide statement copies for the past 12 months and to have them shipped to his work address. That out of the way, he sat back and enjoyed the chai tea latte that he had ordered when he sat down. All too soon, however, he found himself looking inward in an aimless fashion. Realizing that this couldn't be a good thing, he made his way back to work and spent the remainder of his day taking care of the rest of the work which hadn't been tackled earlier. Hook, Lie and Sinker The next week was uneventful, other than that Michael was doing his utmost to act as if things were absolutely unchanged in their world. Somehow he managed to be as much the "old" Michael that he could remember being, including the gentle touches and occasional kisses that had been part of their interaction together. Veronica, thankfully, seemed not to notice anything that may have been amiss from his earlier behavior, and so the days went by. One week became two, and things were unchanged; Veronica and Michael still were not intimate, and Veronica seemed not to notice that they were now well over a month since their last lovemaking. When Michael at last got the call from Sam Henry, he all but flew from his office, quickly making his way across town to meet with the investigator. The look on Sam's face, however, told Michael all he needed to know. "I'm sorry," was all that Sam said as he lay the folder in front of his client. "All the documentation is inside, but allow me to give you a brief explanation of what we found." Michael's mind was numb. It was all he could do to face the man across the desk from him and pay attention to his words. Sam Henry continued, however. "As you suspected, your wife is meeting a man at the Sheraton downtown. She meets him twice weekly, on Mondays and Thursdays, and at his house on Wednesdays. Photos and a DVD containing video footage we were able to obtain have been included in your package, as has a transcript of those conversations and calls recorded at your house and in the car. There is an additional copy for your attorney, as well. Again, I'm truly sorry that your suspicions were correct." With that, Michael left the investigator's office, making his way back to his own. Once again sitting behind his own desk, he picked up the phone and called his boss, Don. "I need to pop in and see you," Michael said. "Got time?" It took three minutes to make his way to Don's office, and another ten seconds after Don saw the look on his face to switch from pleased boss to concerned friend. Michael filled his friend in on his home situation, then completely surprised his boss. "I need the number for a good - no, a great - divorce attorney," Michael started, "and then I want to take that job in Sydney." he concluded. "Sydney?" Don asked. "You're sure?" "Don," replied Michael, "after all this is said and done, I'm going to need to get away to someplace where I'm not going to see Veronica in every building or event. I figure another continent should do the trick nicely." "Besides," he finished with a halfhearted chuckle, "now that I don't have a personal life to speak of, just think of how much work I'll be able to accomplish." The promotion was approved, with a start date set for three weeks from that day. Don also approved a two-week vacation at the company's expense prior to that, so that Michael would have time to take care of any necessary business before heading to his new assignment. "Well, it looks like you don't get to call me 'Boss' anymore," Don concluded, as he walked Michael to the door. "Until your next promotion, that is," Michael answered with a grin. "I'll see you when I come back in two weeks to pack my things. Thanks again for that referral." Stopping at his office to collect the financial documents he had had shipped to him at work, he quickly left for the day. At the appointed time, Michael entered the law offices of Slater, Mills and Hastings. He gave the receptionist his name, and sat down to wait for his meeting with the attorney Don had called. Moments later he was ushered into an office, where he met his attorney, Karen Mills. Rising from behind her desk to shake his hand, he noticed that she was tall, dark haired and very relaxed. In fact, her demeanor began to rub off on him, which helped as he began explaining his situation to her. From his first discovery to his hiring of the private investigator and the results of their surveillance. Far from being aloof and businesslike, she paid careful attention, and asked questions along the way. Before Michael knew it, he was explaining all about the drop-off in his sex life, the realization that he was to blame, and his steps to correct it, as well as about the return of the lovemaking problems weeks later. At last, he was done; he was completely spent, an exhausted man just from confronting his demons. Karen reviewed her notes, then faced her client. "So what are your goals?" she asked. "In this state, you have the option to file for Irreconcilable Differences, which will basically be a pro-forma matter. As long as both parties sign the divorce decree, then it'll move through the court system and be approved anywhere from 120 to 180 days from the time it's filed. However, if you're looking to divorce for cause, such as for adultery, then you're looking at an actual court case, which will raise your costs significantly. Either way, since this is a "no fault" state, the courts won't consider the reason for divorce when dividing the marital assets. Unless specified otherwise in the decree, things will be divided evenly between the two of you. This means that anything you didn't bring with you into the marriage (such as heirlooms) will be subject to division. She'll be entitled to half of all the financial assets, including your pension and retirement package, no matter how you file." "Wait a minute," countered Michael. "When we married, we both worked. She chose to go into volunteer work after we discovered we couldn't have children; it's not like she couldn't have gone back to work or anything. I don't think it's very fair that she might be able to take half of what I'll accrue in the future." "There are options we can pursue for alternative compensation, but it'll have to be something she agrees to in the end." Discovering a dark, hard side to himself that he never previously suspected he possessed, Michael answered her, "Well, I think she'll be willing to trade that for the reason for our divorce being kept out of the public eye. Those charities she volunteers with are quite selective, after all. Otherwise, I could always just quit my job and have no pension whatsoever for her to collect on." The two discussed more particulars of the divorce, and then he wrote another sizable check for her retainer and left. Time passed slowly over the next week. Michael was taking care of the incidentals that were necessary for his upcoming move "down under", and had rented a hotel room at the local Budget Inn to act as his base of operations while he was on vacation. Under no circumstances did he want his soon-to-be ex-wife to know he wasn't at work. Perhaps it was a cowardly to be avoiding the confrontation like this, but he had already decided that he wouldn't be dealing further with this until things were as resolved as he possibly could make them. At last everything was in place. He had established a new checking and savings account with National Australia Bank, had changed the beneficiaries on his life insurance, pension and 401k plans, had arranged for a new cell phone that would work in Australia, and most importantly had received the completed and filed divorce paperwork from Karen Mills, taking the time to complete a few additional legal matters at her office as well. It was a Thursday, he noted, as he made his way home, arriving just before 2:00 as he had all those weeks ago. Again, just after 8:00 she returned. This time, however, when she glanced into the den he wasn't there. Continuing onward through the kitchen and into the entry way, she was about to climb the stairs when she heard his voice. "Veronica, we need to talk." Stopping in mid-stride, she turned and put a rather forced smile on her surprised face. "Give me a second, honey. I'm all grubby and need to clean up." "No, Veronica. We need to talk now," came his reply. "It'll just be a few minutes, really," she continued trying to head up the stairs as he continued to stare at her. It was quite disturbing, him staring with no real expression on his face whatsoever. "This can't wait," Michael replied, "so come on in and sit down," he finished, gesturing at the couch. "Stop being ridiculous!" Veronica suddenly snapped, the look on her face a curious blend of desperation and outrage. "Whatever you have to talk about will still be there when I get back." With that, she quickly made her way up the stairs, slamming the bedroom door behind her. As he once again heard the shower spring to life, Michael made his decision. Going into their office, he took out a piece of stationery and began writing. Veronica, By the time you read this, I'll be starting anew. I wanted to have this discussion with you face-to-face, but you again decided that your wants and needs came before OUR needs as a couple, a family, a marriage. There is much I don't know about you, I now find out. I suppose I didn't think that was possible after 13 years of marriage, but I guess that's yet one more thing I can add to my list of things I don't (or didn't) know. So what is it I don't know about you? I don't know when you started having sex with Matt Lambert. I don't know how often or how many times you had sex with him. I don't know how you could come back home and act like you did, as if all was right - if a little strained because of my schedule - between us. I don't know if you love him, nor do I know if you were planning on leaving me for him. What I do know, however, is equally substantial. I do know that the only time we discussed our marriage and lovemaking was when I brought it up. I do know that I have never, either overtly or tacitly, have given my approval for our relationship to expand beyond the bounds of monogamy. I do know that you've used money I've earned to finance this sordid little affair and, most importantly, I know this: as far as I'm concerned, it ends here and now. I know that I've made sure our joint accounts are frozen, pending the outcome of the divorce negotiations. I know that a 'household maintenance' account has been established to cover the utility bills until the divorce if finalized, and that all our joint credit cards have been canceled. Yes, all of them. I'm including $500 per month for food and incidentals until you can find another job, but the days of your free ride (no pun intended) are over. Below this letter is a copy of my petition for divorce. I kept it nice and generic, using "irreconcilable differences" as the grounds - because suing you for divorce due to your adultery would not be my first choice. You made my happy for many years, or at least you did until I learned of your unfaithfulness. I would like to let this marriage die a dignified death, rather than a sordid and ugly one. With that in mind, I strongly urge you to get a good lawyer, and to review the documents carefully. I've tried to be fair, or at least as fair as the circumstances allow. But there are a few areas where I'm absolutely unwilling to compromise, and my lawyer knows exactly which ones they are. I won't wish you the best of luck, as that would be hypocritical of me; instead, allow me to wish you this: that you find whatever it is you're truly looking for in life, and that you have the good sense when you do to be content with it. Your soon-to-be ex-husband, Michael The shower was still running, he noted; either he was remarkably fast in putting his thoughts to paper or else Veronica was trying to use her shower to prepare. Either way, it wasn't necessary. Gathering up her copy of the petition for divorce, he placed it, the letter and his wedding ring on the living room chair he had been sitting in, went into the garage, climbed into his car, and left for the Budget Inn. It was rapidly approaching 9:00 when his cell phone rang, breaking him out of the ongoing replay of his failed marriage that was winding through his mind, again and again. Glancing at the caller id, he saw that it was Veronica and let the call go to voice mail. Ten seconds later, however, the phone started ringing again. Waiting until it once again went to voice mail, he quickly turned off the ringer, then turned on the television, which he only marginally watched. For the next three days Michael kept to himself, either at the hotel or else on his several brief shopping trips. Suits were cleaned and pressed, accessories and incidentals bought and packed away. Working quietly behind the scenes with Don, he had arranged for the company to find and lease an apartment in Sydney for him, and for a crew to come in and assemble the furniture which he had purchased and had shipped to that location. Don, to his credit, had done everything possible to keep the news of Michael's promotion and upcoming departure a closely-guarded secret. Only Don and Lydia, Michael's secretary, knew of his big move, and Lydia was positively furious when she'd seen what this had done to her boss. But Michael still had that last week of work left to go. So bright and early Monday morning, he made his way back to work, strolled past the security desk, through the electronic doors, and down the hallways to his office. Lydia was both glad to see him and sad as well. Her boss, the one everybody loved to work with, was leaving, and it was hard on her. Don, too, was sad to see his friend going, though he was holding up far better than Lydia was. The two met a few hours into Michael's first day back, and then took the meeting off-site to continue over lunch. After bringing Don up to speed on how things worked out, Michael offered his own opinion. "That lawyer you recommended is incredible," he said, guiding a forkful of steak to his mouth. "Really?" replied Don, a guarded look on his face, "Why do you say that?" "Well, she truly seems to get it," said Michael. "From the very beginning, I've felt that I'm not just a nameless or faceless client, that she's listening to my wants and needs, and is taking them into account. Thanks for recommending her." To his surprise, Don started to chuckle, then to laugh. "You had me worried for a minute, there," Don told him. "That's not just a great attorney you've got there, that's my daughter." At that moment, a stray feather could have knocked Michael flat on his ass. Don had a daughter? Who was an attorney? Seeing the look of consternation on his friend's face, Don took pity and explained further. "Molly and I had Karen shortly after we were married," he said. "By the time she entered law school, she was engaged. Her mother and I didn't really approve of the whole thing, but realized that it was her life to live, not ours. Well, about five years after they finally tied the knot, she caught Evan (her ex) in bed with one of their neighbors. She was devastated, and once it was all over she decided to specialize in representing the victims of adultery in divorce cases." "Well, she's a phenomenal lady, that's for sure," said Michael, quickly gulping down some water to help get back to normal. The shock of this discovery was beginning to pass now, and he was paying more attention to his friend across the table. "She thinks you're a pretty remarkable guy, yourself," Don shot right back. "She can't tell me any of the particulars, mind you, but has gone so far as to say that you've been far more fair-minded and generous than most she's seen come through her doors. I think you've got a new fan," he concluded. The lunch wound down, and the two made their way back to the office. However, as they were walking through the front doors, Michael suddenly found himself face-to-face with a very agitated Veronica. "You walk out," she yelled, "you won't answer my calls, and you've closed the accounts and the credit cards! How am I supposed to live?" "Veronica, now is neither the time nor the place for our discussion," he began. Seeing her start to react, he held up his hand, "I will see you tonight at 7:00, at your house. We can talk then." "We will talk now!" exploded Veronica. "No, we won't," he answered. "If you persist in making a scene, I will have security remove you from here and, if necessary, have the police summoned to escort you from the premises. I will see you at seven," he finished, turning to make his way through the security doors and back to his office. His day shot, Michael went back to Don's office and let him know he was leaving for the day. Don, having seen how things with Veronica had begun, had already called Karen Mills and arranged for Michael to meet her as quickly as he could get there. "We need a plan," said Karen, as soon as he had seated himself in her office. "With what I've been told about her behavior at your office, we need to make sure that everything has been done and done properly." "What do you mean?" asked Michael. "You had intended to serve the divorce papers personally," she began, "but there is absolutely no proof that she received it. On top of which, there is no way to know just how she's going to behave when you meet later tonight." "So what do you suggest?" "Let's arrange for her to be properly served by a sheriff's deputy tonight, say around 8:00," Karen replied. "If I hurry, I can arrange for the papers to be served by then." "I only have to make it through the week," Michael observed, "and then I'm heading for Australia." "Then I strongly urge you to make sure you take any and all necessary precautions to make sure you're not caught unprepared," came her answer. The next few hours found the two of them drawing up yet more documents, with Michael signing a limited power of attorney notice which would permit her to act on his behalf in the matter of the divorce. Michael also made two tapes, the first being a videotaped deposition where he went through everything that had led to this point, from finding the unexpected bank statement to hiring a private investigator and lastly to engaging an attorney and seeking divorce. The second tape, however, was much shorter. Once they had wrapped up any loose ends that either of them could think of, Michael suggested that the two go for an early dinner; to his surprise and delight she quickly agreed, and they headed for a local bistro known for its tasty meals and generous portions. As they ate, they also discussed possible problems and how to deal with them, and by the time Michael left to meet at his former home, he felt much more confident about his position. Michael realized that things were going to be every bit as difficult as he had feared from the moment he rang the doorbell at seven. His first attempt to ring the bell left him still standing on the front stoop, and a second attempt had no better luck. After a third unsuccessful try, he had turned to walk back to his car, only to have the front door finally open when he was midway down the sidewalk. "You could have just come in, you know," Veronica's voice carried down the walk. "It's your house, too, after all." "Not anymore," he replied every bit as loudly, letting his words carry forth, where perhaps the neighbors could hear. "Assuming the petition goes through as I submitted it, the house is yours." As he once again reached the stoop, Veronica stepped back from the open doorway and gestured for him to come inside, turning away from the still-open door and walking toward the living room. Closing the door behind him, Michael followed shortly thereafter, noticing as he did so that the large manila envelope containing the divorce papers was still sitting on the chair he had left it upon. With that in mind, he quickly chose the other armchair, as he had no intention whatsoever of sharing the couch with her. "You wanted to talk, Veronica," he said, as the silence between the two deepened, "so I suggest you start talking." Evidently, that was all the incentive she needed, as she launched her verbal attack. Hook, Lie and Sinker "You need to stop this nonsense immediately," she snapped at him. "This is not how a marriage is." "Was this what you wanted me to talk to you for?" he quickly countered. "Was our meeting to simply be a vehicle for you to make absurd demands and state the obvious?" Veronica was stunned. This was not how she had anticipated their conversation would go. By this point, she had been living for so long with her own preconceived notions of what was appropriate that it had never entered her mind that she couldn't have both her husband and her lover, and that all she needed to do was put her foot down for everyone to fall into line. Michael, however, wasn't behaving as she wanted, as she expected. "And you're right that this is not how a marriage is," he continued, deepening her shock. "This is how a divorce is." "Well, I don't want a divorce," came her petulant reply. Michael was well and truly stunned, to say the least. Where was the woman he had known all those years ago? The one who had a solid head on her shoulders that was used for more than just spouting crap? "Whether you want one or not is pretty much irrelevant by this point," Michael observed aloud, eliciting a glare from Veronica. "Darling," she tried, appearing to soften a bit, "you have to realize that, in our circles, it's all about appearances. A divorce just won't do." Suddenly it was all clear to him. Where things had gone wrong, why she was behaving the way she was and, saddest of all, why there was absolutely no chance for them any longer. As Veronica sat there with a self-assured and smug look upon her face, he put all the pieces together and, glancing at his watch, made his decision. "Well, let me explain a few things to you," came his quickly- but carefully-considered reply. "First, while you volunteer with the local social set, neither you nor I are part of that 'circle'. Whether or not the other social darlings you interact with opt to live other than monogamous lifestyles is something between themselves and their spouses. However, I have no intent to stay with a lying, cheating whore of a spouse just because it's more convenient for you." Slowly the smug look on Veronica's face was being replaced by one of shock and horror. Feeling as if his words were getting through, Michael pressed on. "Your deciding to do volunteer work full-time did not come with a condition that I assist you in maintaining an 'image' or 'appearance', and I only recall one promise that the two of us had to live up to. We made it a little over 13 years ago, and was one we made before our families, our friends, and our Creator." From shock and horror, the look on Veronica's face quickly morphed into one of predatory victory. Perhaps he wasn't getting through to her, Michael thought. He decided to wait and see what she had to say next, and found himself quite glad he did. "Our wedding vows, you mean?" countered Veronica. "The ones where you promised to love, honor and cherish me in sickness and in health, for better or worse, as long as we both shall live?" Michael simply nodded deeply, once. "Well, dear husband," she continued, her voice now dripping with venom, "it certainly seems to me that you're the one breaking those vows, as I'm still here, in better or worse, while you're the one gone." "An interesting interpretation," Michael quickly replied, catching Veronica completely by surprise. She was certain that her line of reasoning would be more than sufficient to make him see the error of his ways. "However, there is a problem with your recollection, it seems." Now she was puzzled. She was certain that, using his own argument, she had a firm position from which to direct the course of this discussion. There could be no other way things could go, she was sure. "You see, our vows promised one other important thing," Michael continued. "Not only did we both promise to love, honor and cherish the other, through sickness and health until parted by death, but we also promised to forsake all others. Having a lover is not forsaking all others, I have to say." The confusion was returning to Veronica's face, but she didn't have time to craft her reply, let alone deliver it. Michael was pushing onward, having glanced briefly at his watch once again. "I loved, honored and cherished you every single day of our marriage, through the good times and bad, through the pain of our inability to have children of our own - you notice, it's 'our' pain, not 'your' pain; 'our' inability, not 'your' - through the chaos of my job and your volunteering. I forsook all others, each and every day, never putting another anywhere near that place which you and you alone had in my life...all the way until the day I discovered your affair. Can you honestly say the same?" Now he seemed to relax in his chair, seeming to wait for her reply. After a few moments, she began to speak. "I never meant for you to find out," she started, fully expecting him to stop her right then and there. "At first I was so frustrated with all the long hours you were working, and one day at a meeting I confided in a few of the others there. When they suggested I take a lover, I was shocked, but as the weeks went by they kept explaining to me how having someone on the side allowed them to still give their husbands a solid home life, while allowing for their needs to be taken care of as well." "Well, that's...interesting...Veronica," replied Michael, "but what ever gave you the idea that our situations were in any way similar to theirs?" "You were working all those hours, and were always so tired when you got home," she answered. His reply was again lightning-quick. "Yes, I was. But you'll also recall that I was the one who brought up the subject and that the two of us discussed it and came up with ways to make this less stressful for the both of us. At no point in that conversation did I hear you asking about taking a lover, nor did I ever imply that doing so might be a solution I would find acceptable." Once again glancing at his watch, he quickly stood and made his way to the door. Confused, Veronica rose behind him and followed. As he reached the entryway, there was a loud knock, and when Michael opened the door, Veronica could see the brown-clad shape of a sheriff's deputy in her doorway. "It's for you," Michael said, stepping to the other side of the officer of the law. "Veronica Thompson?" the man asked. "Yes." "You are served," came the deputy's reply, as he placed a packet of documents into her hands. "Deputy," came a female voice Veronica had never heard before, "could you please take a good look at this woman and verify that she is in no way harmed?" "Yes, ma'am," he replied, and gave her a good, long look. As Veronica looked on, the deputy and Karen Mills escorted Michael back to his vehicle and watched him drive away before the attorney climbed into her own car and left in the opposite direction. The deputy was the last to depart, waiting until Veronica had closed the front door before he started his engine and pulled away from the curb. Michael's cell phone rang as he was driving, and when he looked at the caller ID, and saw it was Don calling, he quickly picked up the call. "How did it go?" he asked. "Well, I know where she got that hare-brained idea in her head from," Michael answered. "It's from those society biddy's she volunteers with. Like I had realized, our marriage is well-and-truly dead, and now we only need the last rites of a divorce decree to complete the job." "Well, I've got another surprise for you, if you want to take advantage of it," Don tentatively offered. "Care to head 'down under' a couple of days early?" "I'd love to," came the reply. "Then stop in here tomorrow morning and pick up the revised itinerary and tickets. Your apartment is ready for you and the building manager will be alerted to your early arrival," Don was now gleefully informing his friend. For his part, Michael slept like a baby during the flight across the Pacific ocean. Veronica was slow to react, even after their meeting, and it was more than two weeks later that she finally contacted an attorney. Even then, she still was clinging to her fantasy that Michael would realize that this was best for both of them and come back. When her attorney found out who was representing Michael, the discussion he had with her did not leave Veronica feeling very hopeful, yet she stuck to her guns. There would be no divorce, she would refuse to sign any papers. Two weeks after hiring her attorney, and almost five weeks after Michael had left the country, Veronica found herself seated with her attorney in a conference room at Karen Mills' offices. A few minutes after they had been seated, Karen entered, and Veronica quickly recognized her as the tall, elegant woman from the night she was served by the deputy. "Where is my husband?" snapped Veronica. "Your husband is not here," came the measured reply. Veronica still did not know that Michael had left the country, and Karen was under strict orders that she should not be told unless it came out in court. "I have been, however, empowered to act on his behalf in these matters, and have been given very specific instructions as to how I am to proceed in his divorce from Mrs. Thompson." Veronica wasn't buying it, her own preconceived notions wouldn't let her entertain the idea that he had written her off for good. "I don't believe you, I want to hear it from him," came her petulant reply. "Very well," Michael's attorney agreed with surprising equanimity as she lifted a remote control and pointed it at the television in the wall behind her. Shortly, Michael's face appeared on the screen and he began to speak, seemingly directly to Veronica. "Good day, everyone. Today is November 7th, 2008 and I am Michael Thompson. It is 4:47 in the afternoon, and as my job will have me out of the area for the immediate future, and because I have absolutely no desire whatsoever to see my soon-to-be ex-wife, I am making this tape to provide concrete and, I hope, incontestable instructions for my attorney of record, Karen Mills, to follow with regard to my divorce from Veronica Thompson, nee Kelly. "It is my full intention to pursue a divorce based upon the grounds of irreconcilable differences, as I cannot manage to reconcile myself to my wife's decision to take a lover or lovers. To that end, I have crafted a divorce petition which provides for an equitable division of our marital assets, with the exceptions being that I keep my 401k and retirement accounts in their entirety and in exchange Veronica will receive sole ownership of our home. As it is paid for, the equity alone will more than compensate her for any moneys she may feel entitled to from those parts of my estate I wish to keep for myself. I have already made arrangements for the title to her vehicle to be placed in her name, and for the deed to the house to be amended as such once my petition is agreed to. In the interim, I have made additional arrangements for a household maintenance account to be established, and for any and all utility bills to be paid from said account. I am also providing a stipend of $500 per month to be used for food and incidentals at my soon-to-be ex-wife's discretion; however, if she wishes to continue buying lingerie and other items for her 'dates', then she will need to find employment, as I will not increase my stipend to allow for her continuing along the path which led to the end of our relationship. "As far as the subject of alimony is concerned, I am willing to offer alimony commensurate with what her projected income would be had she not left her previous employment and had instead been receiving yearly merit-based pay increases. I feel this is incredibly generous, as it was her decision - and her decision solely - that she not return to work after she had left; her volunteer work was a choice she, and she alone, made, and I am not willing to move beyond my offer in this regard. "Lastly, much like our wedding vows, this is an all-or-nothing issue. That means you either accept my terms - all of them, Veronica - or else my attorney will follow my secondary set of instructions. They are quite simple: if, for whatever reason, this agreement cannot be reached, then the grounds for my divorce will change to Adultery, and I will name your lover, Matt Lambert, in my suit, as well as in an Alienation of Affection suit seeking monetary damages for his part in the destruction of my marriage. I will make sure that this is a VERY public matter, that the information I have collected detailing your trysts with your lover is brought to the public eye, and that, if possible, your society and charity 'friends' are as uncomfortably reminded of this matter as possible. "The choice is yours, Veronica. You can have a moderately comfortable existence without me, or you can have a very uncomfortable existence without me. But as you may have noticed, there is no option which allows for you to have any existence WITH me." With that, the screen went dark. Just like Veronica's future.