No Anniversary

"Of course not. Did you notice how my wife didn't spend a second to consider how hurt I am, how disappointed and devastated? And that her only concern is about her lover?"

She gasped. "No, that's not true. You're the one who, out of the blue, accused me of having an affair with the man responsible for your promotion and stature in the company, who--"

"Whooooa." I held up my hand. "Let's slow that truck down just a little and review some facts. His exalted stature came from my analysis, not the other way around. His smartness was merely paying attention to what I said, and his promotion only came when his peers ignored me, making him look smart by contrast. Him getting me promoted was simply to make sure he gets closer access to what I report, so he keeps his advantage over his peers. So let's just take it easy on his self-promoting rhetoric, can we? And while we do that, let's also notice that my wife of almost twenty-five years yet again only looks to defend her new boyfriend, not her husband."

That arrow hit the mark. She clearly had not seen the value I'd brought to her division and the boss she was so smitten with.

We finished the meal in silence.

After the busboy cleared the table, I said, "Bren, you're a wonderful woman--even more beautiful than when we met, smart as a tack and everyone eats out of your hand. I told you at the beginning you were out of my league. You, very graciously, went out of your way to make sure I and all the other guys knew your heart was set on only me. That's gone now, gone from your voice and gone from your eyes. That look, that voice, are now all directed toward Bradley, your new heartthrob. It hurts like the devil to see that, so I'm removing myself from the equation. I shouldn't have to fight for you--you're an adult, a very capable adult, and you can figure out who you love, and what the best thing is to do.

"I concede tonight was a bit of an ambush, you probably didn't see it coming. I apologize for that, but when you go home tonight and think about it, you'll see it's true. Bradley is your new man. He has your loyalty, and he has captured your heart. The only thing he doesn't have yet is what's between your legs. He obviously doesn't care about his three children and wife. Like all affairs, it's only a matter of time before they learn he's nothing more than a street dog with no character. So what if he destroys his family and Bridget's? Or Martha Juno? That's right, she's Miss Monday. Bet you didn't know that, either, did you?"

Bren's face was a mask of horror and she shook her head slowly as the shocking truths kept coming.

"Yeah, so much easier to follow the excitement and thrills than doing your homework. Research is what I do, though, so... Our girls are grown up and out of the nest, thank God, but, even without counting, your hero is single-handedly destroying the lives of seven kids and four marriages. Not bad for a single dick. The one you're leaving me for."

"What? No! I'm not leaving you. Your jealousy has made you insane," she hissed.

Ignoring her insult, I poked a finger toward her. "You're at a decision point, my darling, him or me. He clearly loves sharing, but I don't. Never have, never will. And this past week you made your decision. It's him you want."

I sighed deeply. "Like I said, it hurts, it fuckin' hurts like the devil. Call it jealousy if that makes your treachery feel justified, but I'm damned if I'm going to sit around and wait for you while you cuckold me. I deserve better after all I've done for us."

Bren finally got her breath back. "You're crazy with your small-mindedness. How many times have I told you? I have not slept with the man. I--"

"Yet. The keyword here is yet. You can deny it all you want, but you're on your way to. Do you remember two days ago?"

"What about then?"

"I asked you to have dinner with me Thursday night. You turned me down, immediately, no hesitation. I asked why, and you said you have a meeting with Bradley. You couldn't tell me any specific agenda, it was just a vague 'I have to meet with him.' When I asked you to move it to tonight, you said no, I should move my date with you. You didn't even offer to ask your boyfriend to move his date with you, only me. Your actions said he is more important than me. I have to change my plans to suit him, never the other way around. Your action, and how adamant you were, told me there will be no anniversary."

"No, Nelson, please. Don't say that."

I looked her in the eye. "You have moved on from me, Bren. Took you twenty-six years, longer than I expected, but... guess I shouldn't be too surprised." With a shrug I sighed for the umpteenth time and called for the check.

"Bradley has me beat in every way: he's younger, the hero at work, more handsome, more confident, more virile, more money. He also has that 'it' factor. He's new, invigorating. You're looking to do new things with him, so exciting.

"Not like me. We've had twenty-six years, all told. That's a long time and we've done lots of things. Not too many items left on the old bucket list. Do you remember how terrific it was hiking Machu Picchu? Strolling the Boulevard Anglais hand in hand to see what the fuss was all about? How many other people have made love in Death Valley under a million stars? Or driven down Highway 1 in a convertible making lists of what the next adventure should be? All done. What else is left to sparkle your eyes? Nothing. Now you're dreaming of doing those things with your new lover.

"I can't compete; I lost my glamor getting up at night when our babies cried, so you could get some sleep. When you had the flu, puking your guts out, I stayed home and nursed you. How can that compete with box tickets to the ballet with Fancypants Stevens? Remember waking up hung over after our tenth anniversary, me fetching you painkillers, a barf bucket, and water? Nope, can't compare with your handsome stud and dinner at Franco's. Yes, I know about that dinner, another 'meeting with a client' you 'had' to go to. Also, I must not have looked particularly sexy covered in blood splatter when I held your hand at the birth of our girls. You cussed me out good both times, but I bit my lip and endured it, because I knew the love underlying the pain--the love that's gone, transferred to someone new and exciting.

"Now it's different. You're not cussing me out with words this time. No, it's your face, radiant for your new love. So what if he's done nothing of any substance? So what if he's low on commitment, cheats on his wife, then cheats on his cheating partner? He's sexy, right? Smooth. The new thing, the future. Well, at least for the next month or two. How can a twenty-four-year marriage, like old slippers, compete with new sexy stilettos?

"It can't."

Tears flowed from her lowered eyes, but I pressed on. "I understand, Bren. I'm your past, he's your future.

"Let me be clear, I still love you so much I can taste it. My sun rises with you and I thank God at the end of every day for one more I had with the most wonderful woman in the world. But to paraphrase the song by England Dan and John Ford Coley, our love ended up not being forever, so what's forever for?

"The divorce is straightforward, all assets down the middle. If you want to stay in the house, you can buy me out. I don't want it. I wouldn't be able to bear looking at the kitchen table, remembering the family love around it over countless dinners. Or the couch on which we made love. I used to think we'd stay there forever, but we know what happened to forever. So, probably best to sell it and split the proceeds."

Bren grabbed my hand. "Please, no. I'm so sorry. I never meant our forever to end. You're my only love, the only one I have ever loved."

Pursing my lips, I said, "Talk is cheap. I look at your actions. You hang on his lips in meetings, you gaze at him with the adoration only I used to get. I've become like the neighbor's dog. Good for a tail wag and an ear scratch, but not in your league. I know you too well, you can't hide your disdain from me."

"Please, Nelson, no. What must I do to show--"

'Bren, stop. This is not a negotiation. This is not if you do this, I do that. It's over.

"The purpose of this dinner was only to tell you face to face. Your time to negotiate was last week, when Fancypants told you to wear sexy underwear for him, and you did. The fact that you hid it from me tells me you know very well it was wrong. Still, you did it. How you made me change my date, but not him. Actions.

"You had an entire week to renegotiate, to tell him you love only me, and dressing sexy for another man doesn't pass the husband test. You had a week to stop gazing at him with adoration and turn back to me. The whole week I was here, seeing your face every morning radiant with the prospect of being close with your new love. Me? I was just wallpaper, the roommate to wave goodbye to."

I sat up and raised my voice a little. "Well, dear, tonight, the wallpaper is waving back. Goodbye. Tomorrow it will be over, and you'll be free to pursue your lover with no impediment. You should be happy."

She wasn't. Snot and tears soaked the thick cloth napkins and thick linen tablecloth.

"That's not true, Nelson, it's not true. He is just my boss, we've never done anything."

"Did you kiss him last week when you said goodnight?"

A fresh round of wailing provided the answer she couldn't filter.

"Will every single second you've spent with Slickdick pass the husband test?"

Between the wails and sobs, her head shook. "I'm so sorry, Nelson. But you have to believe me, I never never stopped loving you."

"Right, you just started loving him more, am I right? You have love for two men, is that it?"

A few nods punctuated the waterworks.

"And you would really be happy if I could give you the space to pursue your affection for Bradley, correct?"

She looked up with an expression of sudden, unexpected hope.

"Let me see, one lover who has stood by you and loved you unconditionally for twenty-six years, who's shown his loyalty and undying love, and the other a lowclass cheater with zero character, who's dooming his own children as well as several others to spend their childhoods without their fathers, who not only cheats on his wife, but even on his lovers, too. Jeez, how low can your standards go? A snake who takes credit for what other people do. The one who demands his lovers blow off their husbands and wear sexy underwear just because he's a cocky narcissist?

"Tell me, dear, if this was your brother, what would you advise him? Should he stay married to a slut who adores a lover like that?"

Anyone who thought Brenda'd cried out all her tears quickly saw the error of their way as a fresh gallon erupted.

"To remove all doubt, bitch," I said softly and evenly, "the answer is not just no, but hell, no. You spent the past week negotiating to get unrestricted access to your new fuckbuddy. Congratulations, you got it. Have at him all you can. I will start over and look for someone with a little integrity, honesty and loyalty. I think I deserve that and I'll search until I find it, or die trying. But I will absolutely not put up with your low-class slutting."

I stood and went to the bathroom.

When I got back and sat, she spoke. "How can I convince you you are the only one I love, will love forever?"

"Resign immediately and cut off all communication with Stevens. All meaning all, without any 'just' left."

"Just?"

"He 'just' called to say this, I 'just' texted him for that. In other words, using the word 'just' to justify breaking your promises."

"OK." She pulled out her phone and composed an email to Stevens, copies to me and the head of HR. I herewith submit my resignation with immediate effect. I appreciate the opportunity to return after my long absence, but I feel my career will be best served elsewhere. Respectfully.

Holding the phone to me, she asked, "Like this?"

Everything in me wanted to rejoice, but I decided to wait. Bradley was slick as snot, and I knew he would not be happy losing such a prime piece of ass so close to hitting the jackpot.

Not five minutes later, her phone rang and she turned the screen to me. Bradley. Looking around, she texted him back and showed that to me, too. Finishing dinner. Leave a message.

He didn't. Of course he didn't.

Dismissing the phone, I grunted, "He's going to rely on his live charm to make you keep tomorrow night's date."

We passed on dessert and in the car she called him back with a brusque tone. "What part of my email didn't you understand?" She turned on the speaker.

"What email?" he said. "I was just calling to confirm our meeting tomorrow night."

"Remind me, what exactly was the agenda for the meeting?"

He coughed and cleared his throat. "Well, I just felt we needed to get to know each other a little better. What with you coming back into the work force after--"

"Bradley, we know each other. Why do I need to take time away from my family?"

"Bren, your girls are gone. All you have left at home is Nelson, and you said yourself he's as boring as old toast."

My head whipped around with an accusing glare.

She looked me in the eye. "I didn't say that, you did. I admit I didn't shoot it down like I should have. If it wasn't for his report on that energy company, you would have gone down the tubes like the other guys. Does that sound like boring toast to you? And don't think I didn't notice you got him promoted just to be close to you to feed you his analyst reports first. So, what part of me did you really want to get to know tomorrow night?"

"Oh, Bren, the list is endless. Are you going to wear that short blue skirt for me again? Or the new one you said you bought this past weekend?"

Her blush was clear in the streetlights flashing by our car window. I raised an eyebrow.

She turned away from me and, using a coquettish voice, asked, "And if I wear that new microskirt, what would the others in the office say?"

"Hey, no need to wear that during business hours. I was thinking you bring it in a small bag and slip it on just before we meet."

Her flirting was beginning to piss me right off. Just after she'd told me she would be cutting him off. I drew in my breath to let her know I was most certainly not impressed. She turned her face toward me and gestured to calm down. Turning away, she continued, "And why would my boss want me to wear something risqué like that?"

Adopting what he probably thought of as a wolf's voice, he growled, "So much the better to see you, and feel you, my dear."

"Does my boss want to feel me?"

Again the growl. "For sure, and more, my dear."

"And what are those teeth for?"

"The better to eat you with, my dear."

WTF? I pulled over, ready to grab the phone from my bitch wife and tell the asshole where to get off.

Perhaps sensing my intentions, Bren whipped the door open and walked away at a fast pace, holding her hand back toward me in a 'Stop' motion. She pointed to her head. Was she telling me she had a plan? I stopped, and waved her back holding my hands in a gesture of surrender.

"And is eating me all my boss has on his mind?"

"Definitely not, but it's a good beginning, don't you think? We can plan together for what might follow. Oh shit, Bren, let's drop the cute language. You're sexy as hell and I want you. You want me, too, and tomorrow night we'll make it happen at last."

"Don't you know that's against the rules? You're my boss and having sex with me will cause you to be fired. Are you sure--"

"Oh fuck, Bren, who cares? Nobody will know. Cut the bullshit."

"No, I don't think I should meet with you tomorrow night."

"Look, if you don't show tomorrow night, I will send Nelson pictures of what we did last week."

"What! Did you take pictures of me without my permission? And are you blackmailing me?"

"Yeah, so what? We're not gonna use it in a court of law. Think Nelson will refuse to look at 'em because you didn't give your permission? So, are you coming tomorrow or not?"

"What time?"

"Eight. By then we should be alone."

"What about your wife and kids?"

"I'm the provider. They're grateful for what they get."

"Eight tomorrow, then."

I was about to explode. "What the fuck was all that flirting about?" I screamed. "I thought you agreed no more contact with the snake?"

After she pressed a few buttons on her phone, Bradley's voice floated over the speaker. She grinned. "I recorded the whole conversation. He's going down in flames tomorrow for sexual harassment. Tomorrow our HR director is going to ask me why I'm resigning so abruptly, and ask me how much I want to not sue them publicly."

Epilogue

Our employer settled for a healthy, but not outrageous sum to avoid publicity and lawsuits. We used it to buy a beachfront shack in Belize where we could spend more and more time as our retirement approached.

Bradley Stevens was fired the next day, with no reference.

I was offered a VP position, but passed. Much better to have less stress and more time to keep our bucket list refreshed.

The most beautiful woman on the planet still shares my toothbrush stand, and I keep shaking my head every morning at my good fortune.