Devil or Angel

Today's story has a unique twist. I have presented the first six months of the story exactly as it was told to me. Then you hit a fork in the road. You will be offered two endings; one is as it happened whilst the other has been made up out of whole cloth. I invite you to read both then vote which is which. Your comment can be as simple as "angel" or "devil" however I encourage you to voice your opinion and why you reached it.

Did it really happen? I will leave that to the reader to decide. Without further ado, I present for your consideration Devil or Angel

Constructive criticism is always welcome. Ad hominem attacks will, of course, be deleted. All names, dates, and locations have been changed.

*****

Stop me if you've heard this one before.

I never suspected my wife Michelle was considering having an affair. There was nothing; no changes in routine or out-of-the-ordinary behavior that would stir up suspicions. Just a shit load of e-mails on her company laptop from a weasel named Keith Ravlis trying to get in her pants.

It all began to unravel one Saturday afternoon when Michelle went grocery shopping. I noticed her computer sitting on the counter. Out of idle curiosity I woke it up and started to snoop around. My wife wasn't exactly creative in her password. MV050785; her initials and birthday.

I started to scan her e-mails. They were chock full of correspondence like you would expect from a customer service rep for a machine tool supplier, price quotes, change orders, etc.

I can't say why but I checked her recycle bin. Michelle had been dutifully deleting scores of e-mails but never bothered to clear out the trash.

I was about to shut it down when I noticed a name kept appearing with increasing frequency, KRavlis#1.

I scrolled back through time and found the first message; it was written the day after the company Christmas party. I'm pretty damn sure I knew who he was. There was an asshole who kept hovering around my wife. He wore a wedding ring but his wife was not in attendance. I warned Michelle he was bad news. She giggled and said I was imagining it. I was certain it had to be him and his message was wholly inappropriate.

"Michelle, you looked drop dead gorgeous. I wish I could have had more time to get to know you better but your shadow followed you like he was afraid you would talk to another man."

Her response, "He's my caveman and I love him."

Thus began what became a daily exchange of e-mails. After a couple dozen messages where Ravlis took none too subtle digs at "your husband" my wife's spirited defense began to wane.

He seemed to sense he was making progress and upped his attacks to twice a day, referring to me as the knuckle dragger. He started asking personal questions about our marriage then spinning her answers to the negative.

Michelle's response to his attempts to emasculate me was l-o-l.

I almost smashed the computer when I read, "Your husband doesn't appreciate what an incredible woman you are."

I looked at the clock and knew Michelle would be back in about half an hour. I still had three more months of messages to read so I got a thumb drive out of my desk and downloaded everything in the garbage can.

Next I found a program on-line designed to monitor a child's computer use and downloaded it. I would now have access to her laptop at my leisure.

It was obvious this predator was grooming her to have an affair. I was furious but decided not to confront her until I read the rest of the exchanges. I began praying she regained her senses and told the bastard to fuck off.

I pretty much avoided Michelle until dinner time; I can't even tell you what she cooked but I do know I wasn't exactly good conversation. I sat down in my recliner and stared at something on TV.

She kept asking me if everything was alright. I got so far as to say "No, it isn't," before I clammed up. I knew if I confronted her we would have an argument. Okay, we would have a knock down drag out fight. I also knew she would claim it was just harmless banter with a bored colleague. I could almost hear her attacking me for violating her privacy. The bile in my mouth was certain it had as much of a chance of boomeranging and drive her into his bed to spite me.

That night I barely got any sleep. But I made use of the time to formulate a plan. Step one would be reading all of the e-mails to see how bad things were.

Next, if I was going to divorce her I needed rock solid proof to enforce the prenup.

I left home an hour earlier than usual so I could read her e-mails uninterrupted. I didn't even kiss my wife good bye. The offices were dark when I arrived and put on a pot of coffee. Five minutes later I was having a liquid breakfast and reading. This bastard was ramping up his attacks. His theme had evolved into "I would never take a woman as wonderful as you for granted like your husband does."

And my wife was gullible enough to let him get into her head.

Then, about eight weeks ago they abruptly stopped. I double checked a couple hundred deletes to make sure he hadn't changed names but there was nothing. Was that good? Did they break up or find a more secure way to communicate?

My company employs a private investigation firm to do background checks on potential employees. They are real good. At 9:00 I called and talked direct to the owner, Lee Thorsen. I explained my problem. He said I should get right over so we could plot out a course of action.

We spent a couple of hours reviewing what I knew. "I think the two of them were worried they would get caught using the company e-mail for inappropriate personal business and switched to text messages on their private phones."

"Where does your wife keep her phone when she's sleeping?"

"On the night stand next to our bed."

"That's a problem. But I have a solution. I need you to disable the outlet she plugs the charger into. I can show you how. Then you have to get her to use an outlet downstairs. That night one of my employees will come by when you're sleeping and clone hr phone."

When Michelle discovered all of the outlets in our bedroom were dead I offered to plug it in downstairs on my way to check the circuit breaker box. I called the number he gave and said I would leave the back door unlocked and the phone would be on the charger on the kitchen counter. I never heard him come or go.

The next morning Thorsen called to tell me he was able to monitor everything my wife did with her fancy new phone. I knew I hired the right guy.

His second call that afternoon tore my heart out. "Brian, I've got some good news and some bad news."

"Give me the good first."

"I read all of their texts-your wife never deletes anything. So far they have not had sexual intercourse. They have, however, done some kissing and groping."

"If that's the good news..." My voice trailed off.

"Ravlis works at the south side distribution center for the same company as your wife. On alternating Fridays he comes up north for a managers meeting. Last month he met her for drinks after the meeting at a small bar about fifteen minutes away from the plant. They picked it because she wanted a place where nobody would recognize them."

"That can't be right. She's always home at the same time as me every evening. I would remember if she was late."

"Sorry to inform you but your wife works through lunch two days a week and is allowed to leave a couple hours early on every other Friday. They've done it twice now. I'll send you the texts they exchanged afterwards.."

There was a long pause. "And tomorrow is a second Friday."

"Damn."

"Not to worry, I've got a plan.

The next morning Michelle was giddy as a fool. I was about as conversational as a grizzly bear woken from hibernation. She didn't seem to notice.

I swallowed a cup of black coffee in silence as I ran through Thorsen's plan.

I knew Michelle would be leaving at three for her rendezvous. I needed to time my call to catch her right before she left for her illicit tryst.

The day seemed to drag on forever. I couldn't concentrate on work and kept checking the time. My secretary noticed I was a million miles away and asked if everything was all right. I thanked her for her concern and said I had a lot on my mind."

At 2:45 I phoned Michelle at work on her hard line so caller ID wouldn't let her duck my call..

"Hi beautiful. Great news. You're talking to the new Vice President of Operations for the Midwest Region." Truth be told it was a lateral move which I knew was coming. However the timing was perfect and the title came with a pay raise and a nice bonus check.

"Instead of pizza I'm taking you out to dinner at that new French restaurant you wanted to try followed by a night of dancing."

I noticed she didn't say congratulations. "No", she stammered, "I'm not dressed properly."

"I saw what you were wearing when you left home. You look perfect."

"Couldn't we go tomorrow night?"

"No, we are celebrating my promotion tonight. On such short notice the best I could get was a five o'clock reservation. Tell your boss it's a special occasion and you need to get out a half hour early. I'll pick you up at four thirty sharp."

I could hear the panic in her voice. "No, that's way out of your way. Besides I don't want to leave my car here overnight. I'll meet you at the restaurant at 5:00."

My wonderful wife didn't want to deny herself an afternoon with her wanna be fuck buddy. I couldn't help but hope whatever Thorsen was going to do would derail their plans.

Five minutes later he called me to say the texts have been flying fast and furious. Ravlis whined like a spoiled brat because he was hoping they would have some alone time to make his move.

Michelle told him he would still get to see her for an hour and a half...in the bar.

Ravlis started to go down a bad road, "So once again your husband snaps his fingers and you come running."

Michelle actually rallied to my defense. "I don't want to hear that shit. He'll make twice as much with this promotion as you do."

Ravlis seemed to realize he was overplaying his hand and backed off.

At 3:15 I received a call from Thorsen who told me to get on my lap top. I could see a dimly lit bar. I recognized the man sitting on a bar stool looking at his watch; Ravlis. Five minutes later my wife walked in. He stood up and planted a kiss square on her lips. She pushed him away then scanned the bar as if looking to see if she recognized anyone Satisfied, she let him violate her mouth again, only this was a much more intense kiss. I turned up the audio and could her Ravlis telling her how much he missed her.

My stomach churned as I watched that bastard paw my wife.

For $100 the bartender was an eager conspirator and the microphone she planted picked up every disgusting word. Ravlis was pushing Michelle to go somewhere more private. She wasn't convinced so he ordered another round of liquid courage.

The plan was for the bartender to signal the team when they were getting ready to leave. Then she would stall them until the other pieces of the puzzle were place.

Ravlis told the young lady he would like to settle their tab.

A minute later a well dressed man and woman sat down next to my wife. I didn't recognize either but suspected Thorsen had sent them..

The man snapped his fingers and ordered, "A merlot for the lady and a Bloody Mary for me. Make it a double." He threw a twenty on the bar and said he had to go to the men's room. "Get us a table babe."

When the drinks arrived his date picked both up, turned, and accidentally dumped them all over Michelle's white silk blouse. The way she screamed you would have thought it was battery acid.

"I'm sorry...I'm ssssooo sorry. I can't believe I did that." She kept babbling. "My husband will pay for the blouse."

Michelle ran for the ladies room sobbing.

Ravlis started to berate the spiller until her husband returned.

He grabbed the much smaller man by the arm and said, "Don't say another fucking word."

Ravlis slunk away towards the ladies room. He opened the door a crack and called, "Will you be out soon?"

"No you asshole. My blouse and bra are ruined."

On Thorsen's direction I forgot my cell at work so Michelle couldn't call and cancel.

My wife spent the next twenty minutes stripped to the waist washing her blouse and bra in the sink then trying to dry them with a hot air machine. When she was done Ravlis was standing outside the ladies room. He held out his arms and tried to hug her.

Without saying a word Michelle pushed him aside and hurried out the door. She went straight for her car without looking back.

Ravlis stood there watching her walk away with a stupid look on his face.

Thorsen was smiling because it went so well. So was I.

I was standing in front of the restaurant when Michelle pulled up. I beat the valet to her door.

Her blouse had a nice tie dyed look to it

"What happened?"

"I had an accident rushing to get all of my work done so I could get here on time. One of the clerks bumped into me and spilled two cups of coffee on me."

"Coffee? It looks more like wine and tomato juice."

Michelle got a real pasty look on her face.

I didn't push it. Instead I took her arm and escorted her into the dimly lit restaurant. Tonight the battle for my, make that our, marriage began in earnest. And I would fight dirty to win.

The maitre D' escorted us to a private booth in the corner.

Even though I was furious with her for kissing that bastard I reclaimed her mouth.

"Michelle, I love you more than life itself. I wanted to give you something to show the world how much you mean to me." I reached into my suit coat pocket and took out a jewelry box. Inside was the ring I had intended to give her for her birthday. It had two rubies-her birthstone- with a line of diamonds circling around them in an infinity "8" pattern.

"The diamonds link the rubies like our love links us."

Her mouth dropped open.

I hugged her and said, "Nothing is too good for the woman I love."

She began to cry.

"I want everyone to know you are the only woman I have ever, and will ever, love. Until the day I die."

Through the tears she squeaked, "I love you too." A little weak as far as commitments go but it was better than nothing.

For the rest of the evening my wife seemingly leapt back in time to when we were newlyweds. We had a very romantic dinner followed by a couple hours of dancing to a jazz quartet. When we got home we reenacted our honeymoon.

Monday morning Thorsen told me Ravlis texted her twenty seven times over the weekend. She ignored all of them. Finally, on Monday morning she responded, "Please back off. I have a lot to think about and don't need you pressuring me."

That made me cautiously optimistic.

All was quiet for two months. Our marriage was back on track, or at least I thought it was. Then came the call I was dreading. "Brian. Thorsen. We should talk."

I was at his office twenty minutes later.

"Brian, I've got some bad news. I've had one of my guys monitoring your wife. Until yesterday there was nothing but straight up clean texts and phone calls. Last night around 10:30 Ravlis sent Michelle a text saying it was great running into her at work and that he missed her and wanted to get together to pick up their friendship."

"She responded at six this morning. "Keith, I've missed you too. I would like that."

"She must have texted him from the bathroom, right before she joined me for a cup of coffee. Now I know why she was in such a good mood."

"From the time stamps it looks they exchanged a series of texts while they drove to work. Ravlis kept repeating his concerns that Michelle was afraid to text him and she wasn't being treated like she deserved."

My naive wife ate it all up.

"After the third volley Ravlis began to sign them your BFF. They're quiet right now. So what do you want me to do?"

"Lee, you said you knew a real good divorce attorney."

"The best...this woman got burned real bad by her ex and makes her career getting vengeance on cheating spouses."

"I want to be ready to drop the axe on a moment's notice. Set me up an appointment."

Over the next few days Thorsen kept me up to date on text messages as they were exchanged. It was pretty damn hard not to explode over their conspiracy especially when Ravlis said he knew a way he could get away for an overnighter. "I'll tell my wife someone screwed up and they need me to drive down to our St.Louis office to straighten it out. I'll make her think I'm being considered for a promotion or something."

Over the next few days they began to work out the details. Michelle said she had figured out a way to get away, "I'll really butter Brian up then tell him one of my good friends is having a sleepover birthday party...just us girls.

I'll wait until the last minute to spring it on him so he can't come up with an excuse to interfere with our plans.

I needed a plan, one which would force my wife to make a choice; her husband or the interloper. And she needed to be taught that actions have consequences. But first I had to decide if I wanted to stay married to a disloyal, backstabbing bitch.

I wrestled with that and decided the best course of action was to destroy their rendezvous and see how I feel afterwards.

That night Michele was the aggressor in bed. If it was going to be the last time we had sex it certainly was memorable. Afterwards we spooned in bed. My mind was racing. Tomorrow morning I would give my wife a chance to pick me and our marriage.

My wife had always been an opera fan. I despised it and the pretentious assholes who shhhhhed me for making any noise. A few days earlier I noticed in the paper some famous opera singer was wrapping up his farewell tour. That gave me an idea.

Thursday morning I announced over breakfast "I have a surprise for the woman I love more than life itself." Yes I had to bite my tongue to say that but I needed to bait the trap.

Michelle responded as I expected, "I love surprises!"

"Then you'll love this. I bought tickets for the opera. We will be on hand to see the final performance of that Italian tenor you so enjoy."

Michelle looked panicky.

"I'll have a limousine pick you up at work tomorrow and drive you to our suite. We have dinner reservations at some overpriced restaurant that is "the" place to go."

"And after the opera a horse drawn carriage will be waiting to carry us back to our love nest."

"Uhhh honey, about tomorrow. It sounds like you went to a lot of trouble but I'm getting together with a couple of the girls to celebrate Peggy's birthday...she's the big 3-0. Her sister is throwing a pajama party sleepover and I said I would go. I'm sorry I didn't say something sooner."

"No problem. Call Peggy and tell her your wonderful husband is taking you to the opera.

"I can't. I already said I would be there."

"So let's see if I got this straight. You're passing up tenth row center tickets to see the last performance ever by a man often called the greatest living opera singer to sleep on the floor like you were a buck toothed teenager again."

"Stop trying to manipulate me."

"Manipulate you!" I tried to keep my voice in control. "I am trying to take you on the most romantic date I could dream up. You know how I feel about opera but I was willing to do it for you. And before I scheduled anything I checked your big calendar on the refrigerator to see if you had anything scheduled. Nothing, Friday and Saturday are both blank. So exactly when were you going to ambush me with this slumber party?"

Michelle hemmed and hawed, "I was going to tell you."

"When? Maybe if you weren't sneaking around..." I caught myself about to say way too much.

Michelle meekly said, "Tomorrow morning."