Abe and Kirsten

As always, constructive comments are welcome and appreciated. And please remember this is a work of fiction and not a docu-drama.

It's been said that there's a fine line somewhere between love and hate. I read an online post once that said human emotions can easily slip from one extreme to the other. Perhaps that's true. At one time, I loved my wife dearly and would have taken a bullet for her. Now, it took everything I had to keep from putting a bullet between her scheming eyes.

My name is Abraham Ryan, "Abe" to my friends. I was an average student in high school, played a bit of sports and graduated in 2001 somewhere in the middle of my class. I wasn't sure what I was going to do at that moment, but my mind was made up one fateful morning in September 2001, when terrorists attacked and brought down the World Trade Center.

The next day, I enlisted in the Army. I spent four years as an artilleryman and finished a tour in Afghanistan before receiving an honorable discharge. I had taken some college courses while in the service but used my benefits to finish my college degree in computers and electronics. That's where I met Kirsten. We dated for several months and fell in love. I was the happiest man alive when she accepted my proposal of marriage.

There was just one hitch, however. Kirsten's father, Bart Robertson, was quite well off, being the CEO of a major accounting firm in our area. He didn't seem too impressed with me and was concerned that I might be after Kirsten's trust fund so he insisted I sign a prenuptial agreement to protect her assets.

I didn't even know she had money and certainly knew nothing of her family's wealth, so I agreed, after having it looked over by an attorney who happened to be a good friend of my father. The agreement was pretty standard, but did include a clause concerning adultery.

According to the agreement, if we divorced on the basis of adultery, the cheating party received absolutely no support from the other and would leave the marriage only with what he or she brought into it. I wasn't worried, because I loved Kirsten and had no intention of ever cheating on her.

I understood, though, that her father was worried that I might cheat on his daughter and try to somehow make off with her trust fund, which I later learned was quite substantial.

After college, Kirsten went to work for her father's company, starting on the ground floor like any other business graduate fresh out of college. No special privileges for daddy's little girl, apparently.

I went full-time with the service company that had hired me on a part-time basis during my last two years of college and worked as a field service representative, fixing computers, servers and networks. It was a good job that paid well and offered great benefits. Between the two of us, we did pretty well.

Better yet, I didn't have to leave the area very often -- maybe once every few months for a training seminar on the latest technology. Kirsten spent several nights at her parents' house, ostensibly to work on a project for her father.

At first, our marriage was great. Not only did we both have good jobs we liked, but we were able to put a down payment on a nice three-bedroom starter home. Bart was shocked when I turned down his offer to front the down payment.

"Thanks, but no thanks," I told him. "I've been saving up for this for a long time and I think Kirsten and I need to do this on our own steam." While that was all true, I knew he hated me and the last thing I wanted was anything he could hang over our heads.

Before things went to hell in a hand-basket, I thought we would be partners for life. Kirsten never gave me any cause for concern and the sex was terrific. We frequently went out for dinner and dancing and generally ended up celebrating the night in bed.

Kirsten and I also attended the various corporate functions her father would throw. I always felt a bit out of place at these events, but Kirsten would stay close to make me comfortable. Her father would make a big deal of his daughter's work, and made sure to introduce her to everyone he could. As an afterthought, he might introduce me as her husband, but never mentioned me by name.

What he apparently didn't know is that the company I worked for had installed all the servers in his company and had an ongoing contract for various network and IT services. After a year on the job, I had become something of an outside lead for the contractors who worked with his company's tech department, which meant that I would stop by from time to time just to check up on things. As a result, I got to know quite a few people who worked at Kirsten's company. That would come in handy later on.

Our first child, John, was born almost a year into our marriage. I'll never forget my mother's response. Sure, she was happy the child was healthy, but I saw a frown crease her face as she looked at the child closely. She didn't say anything to me, so I filed it in the back of my mind.

Our daughter, Kelsie, was born just over a year later. Kirsten had a difficult time delivering Kelsie and had a tubal ligation. Of course, we discussed it beforehand and agreed that we had done our bit to keep the human race going. My mother's reaction was the same as it was when John was born.

It wasn't until several months later that my mother approached me with her concerns.

"Abe, I hope to God I'm wrong, but I'm not convinced the children are yours," she said.

"What?" I asked.

"Call it a mother's intuition if you want, but I really think you need to get the kids tested just to make sure," she said. I trusted my mother, and knew she would never approach me about something like this without good reason, so I decided to seriously consider her suggestion.

Kirsten and I settled into the whole married-with-children lifestyle quite well and life around the Ryan household was great. "Living the dream," we would say when people asked how we were doing. I set aside my mother's concerns for the moment. Surely Kirsten wouldn't cheat on me, right?

Things went well until about about four or five months ago. That's when Kirsten informed me that her father had hired in a manager from New York and had considered making her his personal assistant, or PA. What that meant, she told me, was that if she was selected, she would be working later hours and possibly taking trips to visit clients across the country or even around the world.

"How often would you have to travel?" I asked her one night.

"I don't know, maybe a couple times a month," she said.

"For how long?" I asked. She shook her head.

"Not certain. The last manager in that spot would sometimes be gone for as long as a week or sometimes more."

"A week?" I asked. "Or more? That's going to be very hard on the kids, not to mention us."

"Don't worry," she said. "I'm only one of three people being considered. I doubt I'll get the job. But if I do, it would mean a huge increase in salary for me which means more that we can set aside for retirement and the kids' college fund. We have some time to adjust, though. They won't be making any solid decisions for a couple of months yet. But I will be spending extra time with my dad until the decision is made."

I wasn't too happy with what she told me, and I wasn't convinced we needed the extra money. But I knew better than to rock the boat without any additional information. The Army had taught me the value of getting good intel on a target before opening fire, so that's what I decided to do.

A couple days later, I ended up at Kirsten's company doing a spot check on the server room. Everything seemed to be in order so I took the opportunity to find out what I could about this new manager.

I spoke with a few people in the area and did a bit of digging on my own and learned that the new manager was named Jake Riley. Jake had just moved to the city from New York, where he held a similar position with a fairly large Wall Street firm. That threw up a red flag for me. Why would he leave New York to come to the Midwest? Surely, he could have made more there than here. I also learned that he was married with a child, but for whatever reason, they chose to stay in New York -- another red flag.

I made a mental note to consider getting professional help from an investigator, and I knew just the right person.

I knew him as "Uncle Sam." No, not THAT Uncle Sam. He actually was my father's brother and his name happened to be Samuel Ryan.

"So you think this guy may be trying to hang the horns on you with Kirsten?" he asked.

"Yeah. Something about this guy sets me off," I said. "He supposedly has a wife and a child still in New York and just recently left a major Wall Street firm. Why would he leave a family behind to come here?"

"Well, it may be nothing, but then again, who knows. I'll check him out and see what I can find, okay? And don't worry about the tab," he said. "Just help me with the expenses, okay?"

"I can't do that to you, Uncle Sam," I said. He waved me off.

"Forget about it," he said. "This is family and that's more important. Maybe I'll have you set me up with a new server or something."

Sam got back to me a week or so later.

"You were right," he said. "Old Jake Riley has quite a reputation as a womanizer. That's why he left New York. Seems he screwed the wrong wife and got into a lot of trouble with his firm. They gave him a choice to either leave quietly or be fired. He is married and does have a child, a boy. He's legally separated and his wife is looking to divorce him. From what I found out, she's living in a piece of crap trailer in Albany."

"Figures," I said.

"There's one other thing," Sam told me. "I did a deep search and found out that Riley and Kirsten's father have quite a long history. Jake actually started with old Bart Robertson and moved to New York about three years ago. That's when he got married."

"Three years ago?" I asked. "Do you know if Jake and Kirsten knew each other then?"

"It's very possible," Sam said. "They did some work for the same company and Jake was known to visit the Robertson household a lot."

Odd, I thought. I never saw or heard Jake mentioned prior to all this starting. I recalled quite a few evenings Kirsten would go to her parent's house, claiming to be working on a project. I remembered the times she stayed the night, telling me it was a large and important project for the company.

"There's one more thing," Sam said. "I did a full records check on this guy and pulled up his birth certificate. Guess who is listed as his father?"

"No telling," I said.

"Bartholomew Robertson," he said.

"What?" I asked. "You mean, Kirsten's father?"

"There could be another Bartholomew Robertson, but it sure looks that way," he said. I had a sinking feeling about all this but didn't want to let Sam know what I was thinking until I got more information.

"You want me to start a full-blown investigation?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," I said. "And I will pay you for it."

I called Mabel, Kirsten's mother and asked if I could come over. She and I had always gotten along well, and I thought the world of her.

"Sure," she said. "Bart's not here at the moment, but you can reach him at his office."

"I'm not interested in speaking with Bart," I said. "I do have a big favor I want to ask you, though."

"Okay," she said. I grabbed a couple of baggies, drove over to their mansion and met her at the door.

"What's going on, Abe?" she asked. "Something's wrong, I can tell."

"Yes, it is," I said. "Tell me something, Mabel. Does Jake spend the night here?"

"Yes," Mabel said. "He's staying here until his condo is ready. Why?"

I explained my concerns and Mabel showed me to the suite where Jake slept. It had its own bathroom so I looked and within a couple minutes had what I needed -- a couple hairs with the follicle attached. I put those in one baggie and marked it "Jake."

"By the way, Mabel," I said. "Does Kirsten spend time with Jake here?"

"Well, they've known each other for a while, so I imagine they do. Do you think they're sleeping together?" she asked.

"I don't know, but I intend to find out. One other thing, Mabel," I said. "How close is Bart and Kirsten?"

"They've always been very close," she said. "She's something of a daddy's girl and always has been. Why?"

"I need to verify something," I said. "Can you show me where Bart showers?"

"Sure," Mabel said. "Follow me." We went into Bart's dressing area and I found a couple more hairs with the follicle attached. Bingo. I bagged them and labeled the bag, "Bart."

"What's going on?" Mabel asked. "Really."

"Mabel, I don't want to say anything until I get proof. I'll let you know what I find out. And please don't say anything to anyone."

"I won't, Abe," she said. "Just please be very careful. Bart can be quite vindictive."

I took my mother's advise and got a DNA test done on the children. I included a sample from myself, Bart and Jake. I spent the full $500 and got the results back in two days. It turned out that neither of the children were mine. According to the test, Jake was John's father and Bart was Kelsie's father. The test also verified that Bart was Jake's father. Not only did Kirsten cheat on me and violate the prenuptial, she engaged in incest. Needless to say, I was livid with rage.

That afternoon, I happened to be at Kirsten's company when Nancy Albertson, Bart's secretary, came up to me.

"Mr. Ryan," she said, "Mr. Robertson would like to see you." I like to carry a digital recorder for meetings to make sure I don't miss anything, so I turned it on, put it in my pocket, then followed her to a conference room a couple floors up. When I walked in, I was met by Bart, a man I recognized as a prominent Superior Court judge, several executives, Jake and someone I assumed was Bart's attorney. Two of Bart's security goons flanked me.

Bart invited me to sit down. I noticed a glass of what looked like whiskey already at my assigned place at the table.

"Please," Bart said. "Join me in a drink, willya?" I shook my head.

"No thank you," I said. "I'm still on the clock and I only drink with family and friends. And I'll stand if you don't mind." Everyone smiled at that since no one spoke back to Bart Robertson. His demeanor changed as he took a folded paper and placed it on the table in front of me.

"Have it your way, Ryan," he said.

"Look, if there's an issue with billing, you can take it up with our accounts receivable," I said. "I don't deal with billing."

"This doesn't have anything to do with billing," Bart said.

"Okay," I said. "So what is this?"

"I want you to sign this, right now," Bart said. "You don't need to read it, just sign it so the judge here can put his signature on it and make it official."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Call it a post-nuptial agreement that precedes the prenuptial you signed earlier," he said. "Just sign it and we'll be done."

"Has Kirsten signed this?" I asked.

"Yes, she has," Bart said.

"Interesting she never discussed it with me," I said. I put the folded document in my briefcase, not looking at it.

"She doesn't need to discuss it with you," Bart said.

"I'll have my attorney look it over and if he agrees that it's in my best interest I'll sign," I said. "And not before." I didn't really have an attorney, but Bart didn't know that. His face turned red as he jumped out of his chair.

"Goddammit, boy," he growled. "You WILL sign this paper right fucking NOW!"

"Or what?" I asked. "You'll have your goons here beat me in front of your executives and a superior court judge? Or maybe have one of them put a bullet in my head?"

"You'd better sign it or it won't go well with you, boy," he said. I looked at the judge who seemed to have an amused look on his face.

"Tell me, your honor, is it just me, or does that sound like a threat?" I asked. The judge nodded his head.

"I suppose it certainly could be seen as a threat," he said. He turned to Bart. "Let him consult with his attorney, Bart. Once he sees that it's all legal and in his best interest, he'll sign." Bart settled back into his seat.

"By the way, your honor," I said. "Is incest still a felony in this state?" I saw a number of nervous glances around the room and I thought Bart was going to explode. The judge sat up before answering.

"Well, yes, it is. But I don't know of anyone who's actually been convicted of that. Why?" he asked.

"Just asking for a friend," I said, looking at Bart.

"Just sign the goddamn paperwork," he said, taking a swig from his drink. I left the building, wondering what was going through the rumor mill.

I called Sam to get a recommendation for a good lawyer. He referred me to his friend, Frederick Marsh. I called and got an appointment to see him the next morning.

The next morning, I laid out my case and showed him the test results. I also showed him the post-nuptial Bart had given me. I had taken the time to read it the night before and was livid. I couldn't believe Kirsten would do this to me.

Fred, as he preferred to be called, read the agreement Bart gave me.

"Did you look at this?" he asked me.

"Yes, I did," I said. "Unless I'm going crazy, that says I agree to be a willing cuckold and I give up my rights as a husband."

"You're not going crazy," he said. "It clearly says that you agree to let your wife have extra-marital sex, while giving up any right to consummate your relationship. It also requires you to provide all material and parental support for the two children, which we now know aren't yours. The only thing is that you would receive a $1,000 a month stipend for their support. Other than that, you would be completely screwed. It also says that you would agree to give up 80 percent of your salary and retirement if you file for divorce. And pay her alimony and child support. In short, you would be nothing more than a live-in caretaker for the children."

"That can't be legal," I said.

"It's not completely illegal, but it certainly is outrageous. I can't see any court upholding this. Plus, you'd have to be certifiable to agree to this," he said.

"What about their incestuous relationship?" I asked.

Fred confirmed to me that incest between adults in this state is a felony and could be punished by up to 25 years in prison. Although I really didn't want to raise two young children who weren't even mine and I certainly didn't want to pay any support, I loved the kids and I wanted them in my life.

All I wanted was to end this sham of a marriage. Fred said he would put together the paperwork for a divorce on the grounds of adultery, using the prenuptial agreement. Fred suggested that under the circumstances I should ask for custody. Let Kirsten fight for them if she really wants them.

We decided to wait until we knew whether or not Kirsten got the new job before serving her.

Things got a bit frosty around the house for the next few weeks. Kirsten flew off the handle when I mentioned the post-nuptial.

"What the fuck is this?" I asked her. "Do you honestly expect me to go along with something like this?"

"Look, it doesn't really mean anything," she said. "It's just something my dad wants you to sign."

"Did you read this before you signed it?" I asked.

"Of course I did," she said.

"So, you expect me to stay in a loveless, sexless marriage while you fuck around. Meanwhile, I'm supposed to take care of your kids? You can't be serious," I said.

"I am serious, Abe," she said. "I love my job and I'm not quitting. I do love you and you'll be taken care of, so what do you care?"

"Taken care of?" I asked. "I don't want to be taken care of. I want my wife back. I want a family of my own. I'm not going to be trapped in a sexless marriage being nothing more than your live-in nanny." I ripped up the paperwork and threw the pieces on the floor. "Give that back to your dad and tell him he can kiss my fucking ass."