Proof

Proof is an elastic concept. In a divorce, for instance, proof of infidelity is not as difficult as some seem to believe. Just 51%. Showing that the erring spouse has had consensual sex with another person, during the marriage, and without the consent of the spouse.

You don't need video or photographs. You don't need proof beyond a reasonable doubt, or by clear and convincing evidence. Just 51%. And the evidence can all be circumstantial. In our state, it couldn't only be from one source. There had to be confirmation. Not too hard. A motel clerk, say. Or a co-worker.

My wife Jenna did not understand that. Neither did her boyfriend Dave. Both of them are employed by James, Inc., a broker and financial firm. They worked mid-level accounts - both of them.

On the other hand, I'm an attorney. Trent Homer. (Thank God I never wanted to be a sports official.) I didn't want a divorce, but who knew?

So, when I watched my wife at her company holiday party, I videoed some of what I saw. Enough so the fact finder in court could get a flavor of their behavior. She and David were a couple. They danced. They ate together. They socialized with the others - as a couple.

Jenna and I had been married twenty-two years, since we were twenty-one. A summer wedding after graduation. Then she put me through law school with her work for James, Inc. At the time of the party, our two children were both in the local public high school. Kara was a senior, and Peter a junior. They were both doing well, headed to university.

Jenna was not expecting me to be at the holiday party. I had never really been comfortable at social events put on by her firm. To put it bluntly, the finance guys were almost all assholes. They were mostly very well off and thought that the money made them better than anyone else. Jenna was one of the few women who worked with these guys. But I never liked socializing with them, and over the years I had slowly withdrawn from those events. Often Jenna had also declined. But she wanted to go to this party.

She told me that I was invited. She left an invitation on the table. However, I told her that, as much as I'd love to go, I had a meeting in Pittsburgh and had to be away that weekend. I did pocket my invitation, though. I did not have a meeting, nor was I actually headed to Pittsburgh when I drove away that Saturday morning.

I didn't like fooling her, lying to her. But I felt it necessary. Since before Thanksgiving Jenna had been acting differently toward me. The kids had noticed and asked me about it. She was cool, no smiles, infrequent hugs. It had worried me and made me wonder what could be causing it. In the first week of December, I sat down with her in the kitchen, after the kids retired to their rooms.

I asked, "Is there something wrong? Something I should know?"

The question seemed to take her by surprise. She diverted her eyes for a moment.

She said, "No. Why are you asking?"

"For some weeks you've been diffident, even cold to me. We sleep in the same bed, eat dinner together, but don't talk much. So?"

"I'm sorry, Trent. It's work. Things are intense now. It's why I've been later coming home. I'll do better, I promise."

She had been later. Normally she arrived at six. But for some time, it had been seven, maybe three days out of a week. It made dinner more difficult.

I said, "Well, how long do you anticipate this might last? Because, you know, the kids have noticed as well."

"I'm sure it'll let up soon, Trent. I'll make an effort all around."

And she did make an effort. For a week or so. We had a nice time in bed twice. But only a nice time. Not like before. I wasn't sure she'd come the first time. The second time I made sure. But after that, it was back to late arrivals, and no sex.

I did some research. That was because I thought she might be seeing someone else - at work. Work would be the only place. Since it had all started maybe six weeks before, I looked for new hires or transfers at her office.

There were two. Madeline Brooks and David Bolling. Both transfers. I knew Jenna. I started with David Bolling. He'd transferred in from San Francisco, arriving in early October. A deeper dive revealed that he had a family - wife and two teenagers - living in Frisco. No record of a divorce or separation. Yet, here he was. And there they were. A dual-costal family.

I'm self-employed, with a law office near the courthouse in D.C. I do some criminal, some work for insurance companies on auto cases, and some contracts. I had two investigators who worked for me regularly, on a case-by-case basis. I called Meg Dillon and asked her to come in. We met after hours on a Monday. Meg is young, twenty-five. But she's steady and reliable, capable of being somewhere without anyone seeing her. She's also quite a looker when she isn't disappearing. Dark blond, pretty, medium build and height. Sometimes she flirted with me, but nothing serious.

When she sat in the chair across from my desk, I explained that I had some vaguely unsettled feelings about Jenna. I also explained about David Bolling. I had a photo of him from his company bio. I gave her a retainer and asked her to get on it.

As she left, she turned to me and smiled. She had a great smile. She said, "If she's fucking up, I'm gonna give you solace." And she was gone.

I took that seriously, because of how it happened. Flirting was one thing. This? Something else. I can't say it didn't excite me. But no way I was doing anything to disrupt the family unless it had already been disrupted.

I'm not usually surprised by women flirting. It happens to me. I'm six feet, with blond hair, brown eyes, and a muscular build. I don't have to fight off women. But I have had to discourage some over the years.

After the meeting with Meg, I togged up and ran home. The pizza delivery guy was just pulling up as I got there. But no Jenna. The kids and I ate. Jenna rolled in at seven-ten. She ate left over pizza and had wine. There was very little talk.

The next morning, I was out early and ran back to work. I had a shower there. Then I had a meeting on a fairly big insurance case, involving some possible arson of a large luxury home. The claim was big, and the circumstances suspect. I had a big retainer, and I was making some progress. The county arson officer - and there was only one - told me that the fire was electrical, and that it seemed to have started in the kitchen. He was undecided about the entire thing, since there had been no detectable accelerant. There had been an anomaly in the wiring of both the stove and refrigerator. I reported all that to the insurance investigator. I told him that, as of yet, we had no basis to deny the claim, but did have one to reserve payment.

All of that took the morning. I ate lunch at my desk while I wrote it up and entered the time in the billing program. I got a text from Meg. Jenna was at lunch with David Bolling. There was a photo of them entering Sal's Italian. Holding hands.

Later, I got another text showing them leaving. They went back to work. I ran home at five and ordered Mexican. I showered and picked it up. Jenna rolled in at six-fifty and we all ate together. I had a conversation with Meg later. She reported that Jenna and David left their office together but drove off in separate cars with no obvious hanky-panky.

That night I made an effort to initiate sex. I was shut down. But nicely, insofar as that was possible.

Meg had a further report about other lunches, and one stop at a bar after they left work at five pm. Jenna got home at seven-fifteen that day. I concluded that Jenna and David were a thing but had not progressed to actual sex. Yet, I couldn't be sure of that. She sure wasn't getting a lot from me.

The holiday party was to be held at a ballroom in the local Hilton. Dinner, dancing, awards. I drove off for 'Pittsburgh' Saturday morning. I went to the office. I had some research done on the Hilton by a former client of mine. I'd gotten her off on a computer fraud charge. Lilly Grace reported that David Bolling had reserved a room at the Hilton for Saturday evening. Room 417. When I learned that, I made an assumption. One that needed to be checked out in person.

So, when I arrived at the venue, I looked for Jenna's car. It was a Lexus sedan, and it was parked in the hotel garage - on the fourth floor near the door that led to the fourth-floor rooms. I used my key to look inside. In the trunk was an overnight case. I opened it. Inside - on top - was a deep blue nightie. It was a short one. My birthday gift to her. Under it was a change of clothes, a toothbrush, and a make-up kit.

I gave it some thought. I reached into an outside pocket of the case and found a key card. I walked over to the door to the rooms. It was locked. The key card unlocked it. I went inside and used the card on room 417. It unlocked the door. I looked inside and saw a small suitcase on the rack by the bed. Nothing else showed that anyone had occupied the room. Yet.

I gave all this some thought. The fact that Jenna's case was in her car and not in the room appeared to indicate that the couple was likely trying to hide the liaison. When they left the party, Dave would use the internal elevator. Jenna would use the garage elevator and go in from the door I'd just used.

I pocketed the key card and went down to the party. I gave the hostess my invitation and slipped into a dark corner by a small bar with no bar tender. And I watched.

Jenna looked great. She wore a small black dress and pearls. Nice shiny shoes. David had a tux with a blue cummerbund. He was maybe five-ten, 170 pounds, with light brown hair and blue eyes. I suppose he could have been called handsome. He and Jenna danced well together. But they did not openly grope each other or put on a show.

The dance music stopped before midnight. I slipped outside and took the garage elevator to the fourth floor. I waited near a van parked thirty feet from Jenna's Lexus. She arrived at twelve-ten. She opened the trunk - not the driver's door. She took out the case. I saw her fishing around in the outside pocket.

"Shit. Damn!" She seemed upset. She looked inside the case. No dice. She tried the door. Locked. I'd seen all I needed to see.

I stepped out from behind the van and stepped to her. She turned and saw me, gasped.

I held up the card. "Looking for this?"

She was struck dumb. I'd heard of that, but this was the first time I'd ever seen it happen. It lasted quite some time, with us staring at each other.

I tossed the card onto the floor at her feet. I turned to walk away toward the elevator.

Jenna spoke, then. "Trent. Trent. Stop, please. I won't go inside."

At least she was smart enough not to stammer out lies or excuses.

I said, "Too late to save the situation. Fuck you." I pressed the elevator button.

She jogged up to me. She said, "I'm driving home, now. I can give you a ride."

I remained silent. The elevator door opened. I stepped in.

So did she.

I turned my back on her, but she spoke anyway.

"Trent, I apologize. He's become important to me. We've had a great friendship over the last months. But....but...no sex."

"Well, no sex? But sex was certainly on the agenda tonight."

"Yes."

The elevator door opened. I walked out and away, but Jenna followed. I got to my Civic. She stepped between me and the driver's door.

She said, "Trent, I'll get my car and come right home. Please...."

"Home is a twenty-minute drive."

"I have to get the car."

"And?"

"I told him I'd....." Her cell phone buzzed. It was in her clutch.

"Tell him now. Whatever..." I spoke with some heat.

She answered. She said, "Dave, Trent is here. He was waiting by my car. I'm driving home."

"I know. I was wrong, Dave. You..."

A pause. Then she said, "No, Dave. Just no."

She disconnected. She stared at me with a confused look.

Then she went back to the elevator. I waited there to see how long this might take. I waited twenty minutes. No Jenna. I was going to leave. I was driving off past the exit from the garage. But it occurred to me that Jenna might be in some trouble with this guy. I drove into the garage. (It cost me five bucks.)

Jenna and Dave were at her Lexus, having a discussion. It was not a heated one, but also not too friendly. I pulled up, lowered the window.

I said, "Need any help?"

Dave said, "She doesn't need your help. We're having a discussion."

I got out of the car. I was bigger than Dave, and I strode up to them.

Dave, to his credit, assumed a fighting stance. I laughed at him.

He said, "It won't be funny in a minute. Just leave us alone."

I turned to my wife. "Well, him or me?"

Jenna spoke to Dave. "I'm going home Dave. Please step away."

Dave was undecided. I could see that he wanted to jump me. I thought that if I hadn't laughed at him, he might have done it. But he turned and walked to the connecting door.

He had it open when he turned around and said, "This isn't over."

I'd had enough. I was twenty feet from him. I ran at him, full on and fast.

He fled and slammed the door.

Jenna said, "Trent! Jesus!"

I spoke with some savagery. "That asshole needed a butt kicking. You're married and so is he."

"He isn't an asshole. We need to go home to talk about this."

I got into the Civic and drove away. She followed. I had some doubts that she would.

When we got inside the house, Jenna said, "Let me change. You, too. You look nice in your tux, though."

I said, "Let's change together."

So we went to the bedroom. I watched her take off the little black dress. She had no bra, per se. Just some wrap. And a pink thong.

She looked fabulous. But I was in no mood to screw her, although she seemed to expect that. I got out of my tux, and into some sweats. She was still in her thong, looking disappointed.

She spoke in something just above a whisper. "Aren't you interested?"

"Nope. Put something on and I'll make coffee." I left the room.

The coffee was almost ready when she came down, wearing a terry robe. Her make-up was gone.

She said, "Dave is....nice. I really like him. We've been going to lunch, and also talking at work. He's here without his wife and kids."

"So you were gonna comfort him in her place?"

"They're separated and divorcing. He was so down."

"But somehow he managed to persuade you to let him fuck you. He must have asked, right?"

"Of course he asked. He asked right away, the first week. I put him off. I put him off for months."

"And, all that time, you were cold to me. A dead fish. Why?"

"I was.....this is hard for me. I was falling for him. And, you know, I still am.... Maybe not so much after tonight. He wasn't so nice in the garage"

"Maybe you still love him?"

"I didn't say I loved him."

"Falling for him. Shutting out your husband of many years. ME!"

"He's kind, witty, tells jokes on himself. I really like him, Trent."

"So, when you had the chance, tonight, you came home and didn't go fuck him. Why?"

"I love you and the kids."

"Mainly the kids. Me? Well, you were set on cheating with this guy. How long would that have lasted before your family got the shaft instead of just you?"

"I didn't think it through."

"Oh, I believe you did. You had the overnight case in the car. You had that nice teddy that I bought you for your birthday and haven't seen yet. You had tomorrow's clothes."

"But I left it all in the car. I hadn't decided."

"You were going inside with the case. You decided to fuck him. That means we're no longer a couple."

She gasped. "That's not....that's not right. We've been....."

"To put it directly, you've been cold shouldering me because you fell in love with another man. And, I will not stand for that. You can move your stuff into the guest room. But there's one more thing. If you have sex with that guy, or anyone else, I'll divorce you as fast as I can."

"Well... Well, it seems like you're divorcing me anyway."

"Not until the kids are off at college. Then we'll see."

"That's two years. You can't go that long with no sex. Neither can I."

"I didn't say we'd never fuck. Not for a while, though. You've been through somewhat of a dry spell, and so have I. Because of him. So we can manage, eh?"

"Shit, Trent. I mean...."

"Another thing. No more lunches, or water cooler talk. I'll have someone check."

"I have to talk to him. He and I have been close. If I just cut him off, well..."

"Stay away from him, Jenna. He came here, and he immediately tried to get into your pants. It took a while, but he succeeded. You...you have a choice. If you pick him, move out."

"I won't pick him."

"You won't unless you continue with these soulful talks. Then you might."

"Trent, I want to say that - you saw him. He's not like you. He's average. Maybe good looking. But average size. Any woman would want you over him in bed. Me."

"Nah. I get you. But he's new meat for you. Bottom line, you were going to open your legs for him."

"Trent, I love you. I'm sorry for this. I'll tell him to stay away."

"Jenna, when you said he was average, how did you know?"

"I didn't mean that. I don't know that. He's shorter, smaller. Asshole!"

I said, "C'mon, I'll help you move your stuff to the guest room."

And that's what we did. No kisses. No hugs. Very businesslike.

Sunday, I put a GPS on Jenna's SUV. I also arranged to have someone do that to old Dave's car.

Three weeks went by, and each of them came to work and went home, with no lunches. I had Meg check twice a week. Jenna was packing her lunch. I had no way to know if they were talking at work.

In our house, we slept separately. The kids noticed. They'd already noticed that we'd been cold over some weeks. I sat them down and explained that we were going through some problems. Not to worry too much.

After a month, one night I invited Jenna to my bed. And I wore her out. Also the next morning.

We hadn't truly discussed her relationship with Dave, after the hotel date. I brought it up as she was about recovered from the morning sex.

"Are you and Dave still on speaking terms?"

"Yes. I won't have sex with him. But...he's nice to talk to. We eat lunch in the lunchroom."

"And, you're still in love with him, right?"

"Trent, I never have used that word."

"He has, though?"

"Yes. And, just to answer your next question, he's still trying to get me into bed. It isn't a hard press. Small suggestions. I can handle it."

"Jenna, he's not divorcing his wife."

"He said he would divorce her, if we were a fit."

"Meaning if the sex was good."

"He wants me to move in with him. But, of course, I say no."

"He's looking for an east coast wife. He has a west coast one. Are you considering it?"

"No."

"Why? You really are in love with him. And not with me."

"I do love you, Trent. And I love your cock." She leaned down and kissed it. Then she licked it.

"You have a work husband and a home husband. I help with our kids, and I fuck you. But you're closer to him."

"Maybe so, right now. He's...he and I are sympatico. But at this very moment, Trent, I'm so very close to you." She licked my cock again. I couldn't argue.

After that, she wanted sex all the time, and I almost always gave in. We were sympatico - sexually. But she was still kind of cold otherwise, and we slept separately. She was texting Dave at night.

Eventually I got tired of the situation. I felt like a human dildo. I decided to call David's wife. She worked at a law firm in Frisco. Her name was Cheryl. From her social media page, I could see that she was a redhead, and very attractive. They had two children in high school.

A secretary answered her work number, and I was put through to her.

Ms. Bolling? Cheryl?"

"Yes. Who are you Mr. Homer? I don't recall us meeting."