The Art of Living Well

"Shame you can't divorce on grounds of adultery in this bloody country."

"While true, a man can protect himself if he's smart and protects himself early enough. Thankfully, she's waited until the kids were out of the house before cheating. And there are one or two things she'd forgotten about our life that might turn things in my favour."

He patted my shoulder. "I'm sorry, mate. I really am."

I sipped at my beer. "So am I. Thing is, until I have confirmation, I can't stop loving her. Maybe it's just my suspicious mind. Maybe I'm just being a jealous bastard. But the signs are there, mate. I was oblivious until I finally realised what was going on."

The next morning, I drove to my father's place. Naomi greeted me as always, asking if she could sit with him as I explained the situation. I must have had a look on my face, as despite it being only 10am, he placed a bottle of beer in my hand, told me to take my time before I started. I smiled when he took Naomi by the hand. They were still in love as much as the day they'd married. The de facto relationship hadn't lasted long before my father wanted her to be his wife.

"I think Kylie is having an affair."

Naomi gasped. My father muttered 'Fuck. Not again'.

"I'm going to hire a private investigator on Monday. But all the signs are there, Dad. The same signs you told me about Mum. All the signs you told me about. If she is cheating, then she'd certainly read the playbook on how to get away with it. But once I pulled my head out of my arse..."

"What do you want me to do?"

I grinned. Naomi giggled as I'm fairly sure it wasn't a nice smile. "Dad, I'm going to give my house to you. Remember how you co-signed that mortgage agreement years ago? Kylie has never placed her name on the deed. According to law, you and I own the property while, once I'm gone, she'd be considered no more than a tenant. I'm selling you the house as a gift by simply removing my name from the deed. According to state and federal law, I can do that for free."

"And what do we do then?"

"I sign a month to month rental agreement with you. As soon as I pull the plug on our marriage, if it comes to that, you can sort things out with Kylie. Though she will have some form of tenant rights, due to living in the property for an extended period, we'll read up so you can legally evict her, with a court order if required. Unfortunately, due to the plan I have in my head, I won't be around for it."

"You've given this some thought, Mark?" Naomi wondered.

"Kylie and I discussed monogamy and fidelity before we married. She knows about my mother. I warned her that if she ever cheated on me, I won't forgive her. I don't care if it's one time or a hundred. You sleep with someone else, you break the vows we took and therefore break the marriage contract. At least the 'no fault' bollocks means I can leave rather easily. And I won't have to pay her a cent. No child support as they're out of the house. And no spousal maintenance as she earns as much money as I do. Thank god we don't have those fucked up alimony laws like some places in the States. Fuck giving some cheating bitch part of my wage just because she can't keep her legs closed." I took a sip of my beer and glanced at Naomi. "Sorry, I'm a little pissed off about this. I just hope I'm wrong."

Returning home, Kylie was in the living room, curled up on the couch, watching a movie. She smiled at me as always, her eyes lighting up at my appearance. "Where have you been?" she wondered.

"See my dad. Just needed some advice about something."

"Oh, what?"

"A work thing. Might be a new opportunity on the horizon."

The problem I felt is that I only had suspicions, no concrete evidence that she was doing me dirty. And if she was having an affair, it was someone she didn't see every day. I knew the day that 'girl's nights' happened out of nowhere would be one of the straws to break the camels' back, but so far, there was nothing like that. There was the occasional late night working, but I had those too. If she was suspicious, she'd think I was cheating on her on those rare nights I worked late.

Heading to bed that night, she snuggled into me as always, whispering how much she loved me. It hurt my heart to think that she was lying to me. Maybe she loved me but needed something or someone new? If that was the case, we'd divorce and she can have that new fellow. I'd read some fictional stories about wives who, for whatever reason, turned into massive sluts, fucking multiple guys, participating in gangbangs. The idea my beautiful wife would participate in such things nearly made me gag.

Until I had evidence, I had to trust her. It was the old saying of 'trust but verify'. So when I whispered back that I loved her, I still meant it at heart. But the idea she was breaking our vows was almost too much to bear at times.

The next day was Monday. I was out the door for work first. Every morning, we'd have breakfast together, then I'd brush my teeth, and I'd always receive a kiss on the lips. A proper kiss too, not those pecks married couples seemed to do after years of marriage. That morning, it was the same, her eyes sparkling as she told me she loved me and wished me a good day.

I almost felt guilty, knowing I'd be meeting a private investigator at lunchtime, ready to put my wife under surveillance because I believed she was now cheating on me after twenty years of what I thought was a happy marriage.

I was a little surprised that I was met by a woman. I was expecting an ex-cop with a grudge against women, dressed in a trenchcoat and fedora. Guess I watch too many old movies. She noted my surprise and smiled, explaining the process, what was on offer and how much it would cost. "Will she notice money being moved?"

"No, we've kept separate accounts but have a shared account where we pay for bills and other household things."

"What makes you think she's having an affair?"

I explained what I saw when my mother was doing the same thing, then what my father discovered, what my mother then admitted, before explaining the current situation. "How is your sex life?" she finally asked.

"Once my son left home, we were at it like rabbits. But around six months ago, it slowed down again. I thought it was just we got everything out of our system. Truth be told, I'd... um... I'd be intimate with my wife every damned night if I could. Just because I'm forty-five doesn't mean I'm no longer interested in sex."

"Have you noted changes in her behaviour?"

"Yes. They're subtle, but they are there. Know the term red flags?" She nodded and I grinned. "Not quite enough for a communist parade, but there are enough red flags that I'm allowed to be concerned and suspicious."

She explained what they could offer. It includes phone tapping, video surveillance, personal tracking, and all manner of activities, some she admitted that might not stand up to scrutiny, which meant they would be considered somewhat illegal. I had to explain that it wasn't a constant affair, unless my head was completely buried in the sand. I had no idea if she met someone at lunchtime, or if working late was when she did it, or just those occasional dalliances where she just wanted some different sex. I had to admit that I simply didn't know and I just wanted the truth.

I was given a little time to think about it, letting them know I'd call by Friday to start the surveillance for the start of the next week.

It was difficult refusing sex with my wife. I still didn't know the truth, but the idea I was now sharing her with one or more men was a complete turn off. I could have feigned illness but I went with the truth. I simply wasn't interested. I know it upset her when I rebuffed her advances. She finally asked if I was stressed with work. I was stressed about something, so grunting my agreement seemed to satisfy her curiosity. She snuggled into me as always, whispering that she loved me.

I called the Wednesday, asking them to start immediately. I needed to know as it was starting to drive me mad. I was left wondering if it was all in my head. No wonder so many spouses on the receiving end of being cheated on were left mentally scarred by it.

In the end, though I paid for their services and they did discover incriminating evidence, it took only a month of rebuffing my wife for her to finally show her true colours. By this stage, I was reading literature every day about cheating spouses, whether men or women, all the signs of cheating, how they go about pulling the wool over their eyes, and also what spouses can do once the marriage implodes. I was already prepared. I had already started moving things into my car, and I had what I called a 'bug out bag'. Work knew I was getting ready to move, I just needed to give them a date. My father now owned our house outright, the rental agreement not making any mention of my wife. She would find herself turfed out within a couple of months with any luck.

It was a Friday night. I returned home at my normal time. I'd usually find Kylie in the living room watching television, nursing a glass of wine when I walked in the door. We'd generally order in some takeaway, talk about our week, perhaps discuss plans for the weekend, snuggle together and then make our way to the bedroom. Before she started acting differently, Friday night was usually a great night with the kids finally out of the house. We'd make love constantly, sometimes barely stopping until Sunday.

Instead, I heard her busy in the bathroom. I almost laughed to myself, the situation was so cliché, grabbing a beer from the kitchen before perching myself on the couch.

You never think it's going to happen to you.

I waited in the near darkness before she appeared. I was expecting a slutty little black dress. Instead, she was wearing a colourful blouse and a short skirt, stockings and heels. She'd styled her hair, applied some make-up, jewellery accentuated everything. She was a knock-out. Shame it wasn't for me. I knew it wasn't immediately.

"Oh, Mark. I didn't know you were home."

"I got home at my usual time, Kylie. You were obviously too busy primping and prepping yourself for whatever you're doing. Where are you going?"

She took a deep breath. "I'm going out tonight, Mark. With John from work."

"Why?"

"It's just a work thing."

That was a bare-faced lie. I knew who he was. He was the affair partner. He worked at the head office of her company. He was married with kids, of a similar age to both of us. I'm not sure what she was expecting me to say, but there comes a moment when a man will simply wash his hands of a situation. If she was expecting me to plead or beg, she obviously didn't know me at all. She knew my stance on monogamy and fidelity.

Standing up, she met my eyes as I walked towards her. I glared at her and she eventually shrank back. I smiled as I walked into the kitchen. "Are you not going to say anything, Mark?"

"Nope."

She wouldn't have a clue how prepared I was. I guess we were both good actors. Only difference was I wasn't tearing her heart out with all the lies. "Okay. Fair enough. I'll be home later. We can talk then."

I didn't say anything, but I did follow her to the door. She stopped and looked back at me, looking as unsure as I'd ever seen her. Whether it was guilt or not, I didn't know and no longer cared.

"Goodnight, Mark," she said softly.

"Goodbye, Kylie."

She should have realised what I was saying, but I guess she thought I was just going to be another man I'd read about who'd put up with such bullshit. But I was no cuckold. I wasn't going to tolerate that sort of bullshit. I had no interest in an open marriage, sharing my wife, and god help those men who enjoy watching their wives being fucked by others. Talk about emasculating, humiliating, and a complete reversal of the vows taken when being married.

As soon as she was gone, I put my plan into operation. I grabbed my 'bug out bag' and packed another suitcase, placing those in my car. I got online and thanked the heavens that everything could be done through a phone app or online nowadays. We had very little debt, only a credit card each which I immediately paid off and cancelled. I paid any bills that were coming up then moved most of our savings from our joint account to my own account. I left her enough she could pay a month or two of rent and the bills. After that, she was on her own.

Possession is nine-tenths of the law. She didn't own the house and I would be long gone by the time she realised our savings had disappeared too.

Walking around the house one final time, I couldn't help sigh. So many good memories now tainted. Grabbing another beer, I had three calls to make. The first would be easy. The last two would be difficult.

"Dad, it's confirmed. She's cheating on me. She had the gall to admit she was going out with another man tonight. The plan goes into effect from this moment."

"Where are you going?"

"Adelaide. I've got a new gig there for twelve months. Once the divorce is final, I might return to Sydney, but it's a case of wait and see."

"Okay, son. I'll make sure she doesn't learn where you are. New number?"

"I'll sort that out once I get there. I'll send you my new address once I've found a place to live."

"Drive safely and don't do anything stupid."

"Dad, all I'm doing is walking out on a cheating spouse. Unfortunately, like father, like son rings a little hollow this time."

"You did nothing wrong, Mark. Just find peace in what you're doing and you'll soon move on. Just know that Naomi and I love you. Do your kids know?"

"I'm calling them next."

"Good luck, son. I'll talk to you soon."

Calling my children was the most difficult two calls I made in my life. I called my daughter first. She would always be daddy's little girl. When I explained the situation, she cried on the other end of the phone. That's what hardened my heart, hearing my little girl sob because her daddy had been left heartbroken. I assured her I would always love her, but for the time being, I was going away. I would email her all my new details once I was settled, but for the time being, I wasn't going to tell anyone.

As for my son, he showed the stoic attitude I'd expect from any young man. He called his mother a slut and the only question he had of me was what I was going to do with it.

"I'll figure out where he lives and send it to his wife," I admitted, "She deserves to know the truth. Other than that, I have no desire for revenge, Steve. This isn't fiction, it's real life. I'm heartbroken now but all I'll do is wait it out until the divorce and then somehow rebuild my life. I'm only forty-five, forty-six when the divorce is granted."

"What about counselling? Can she demand it?"

"Marriage isn't like that here, nor are divorce laws, Steve. You've been reading too many stories based on laws in the States. As long as we're separated for twelve months, I can apply for divorce. As you're both over eighteen, I won't even be required to attend court, though I will, just to ensure it goes through. She can't request counselling as we've been married twenty years."

"Well, I'd be careful, Dad. You know what courts can be like. If she pleads her case enough..."

"Then I'll just take my evidence to the counsellor, place the photos in front of them, and ask if they'd remain married to a woman who cheated on them."

"Okay, Dad. Well, look after yourself and keep in touch when you get to wherever you're going. I'll keep you up to date as I reckon Mum will come to me. She knows Lottie will protect you."

"Thanks, Steve. I'll talk to you soon."

And that was it. I wrote a short letter to Kylie, explaining that I was leaving and that she would soon hear from my father. I didn't tell her why; I'd leave that as a little surprise. Other than that, I explained that I had already called our children and told them the truth, as did my father. She was welcome to tell her parents that I'd left, but if I started receiving abuse or pleas to reconcile, I'd send them the evidence.

My final act was to remove my wedding ring and place it on the coffee table with the note and all the evidence I'd received. They were copies as the originals would remain in my possession, in the event I'd need to use them for any reason.

Getting into my car, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but I did find that all the stress I'd been under disappear as I pulled away from the house. I'd booked a hotel on the western edges of the city in preparation for my drive to Adelaide. I had two weeks to get there and organise my life, so I wasn't in any rush, thinking I'd stop at the occasional country town, where there was little more than a pub, a post office and a police station, usually all in the same building.

I arrived in Adelaide a week later. Heading to the office I'd be working out of, I was greeted by a couple of people I'd recognised from previous corporate conferences. I already knew my role, so knowing I was a stranger to their city, they took me out and showed me around, suggesting areas I should consider living.

I ended up living in a hotel for a month while I organised a place to live. I eventually selected a modern three-bedroom apartment in North Adelaide, having done my research and found it to be one of the nicer suburbs of the city. I wasn't interested in buying, as the average price was expensive, though not as bad as Sydney. My intention was to eventually return home to Sydney after twelve months.

Once I'd moved in and changed my number, I informed my father, siblings and children of my change in circumstances. Charlotte was immediately on the phone, wanting to visit. I'd missed her terribly, organising a flight for her within the month. My son was completing his studies, but as Christmas was only three months away, he would visit me then as he could stay for a few weeks. As for my father, he let me know what was going on with Kylie.

"You're aware she didn't arrive home until the next morning?"

"Yes, I didn't pull off the private investigators until the next day as I was wondering what she did that night. She went out for dinner with him, and it was all rather romantic. Then they spent the night at a hotel in the city. I didn't need to know much more than that. I thanked them for their efforts and paid them as their services were not necessary after that."

"Well, I've heard through the grapevine and also what she told me. She got home to find your wedding ring, your note and the evidence. She called me, your children, and her family in hysterics. You obviously didn't answer your phone and I know she's sent you emails too."

"Any call from her went to voicemail and was deleted. I marked any email from her as spam."

"Well, that was just the start of her problems. I turned up on the doorstep a week later and showed her the rental agreement we'd signed. Then I showed her the paperwork about you gifting me the house. Her face paled as she realised it was all entirely legal. I gave her three months to find suitable accommodation, and if she doesn't leave, I'll have the police evict her. She's still living there but I know she's looking to move out."

"Has she asked about me?"

"Of course. She's asked family, your children, friends, even your place of work. The guilt is eating at her because she's thrown away twenty years together."

"Has she explained to anyone why?"

"Not really. She's sorry, of course, but I heard the same shit from your mother. She was sorry that she was caught, not sorry she was cheating on me. Cheaters always live in a fantasy world where they believe they're not doing anything wrong. The usual bullshit is that it was 'just sex'."