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.