The Cruise, The Choice

She rushed to the Guest Services desk and was borderline frantic. She said, "I can't find my husband. Can you tell me if he made it back on board? He went into Cozumel today."

Since all cruise ship passengers must badge off the ship when going on an excursion or exiting the ship at a port, the manager could quickly tell Monica, "I see that he badged off, but he hasn't returned. We haven't received any calls from the port, but let me give them a call to see if he missed the return time window."

Monica texted: "John, where are you? Call me!!! I'm afraid for you."

The manager said, "Mrs. Blake, he's not at the port. I'm sorry. Is he not answering his phone?"

Monica didn't know what to do. She shook her head and said, "No."

"Okay, let me contact our port agent again. They have a list of police stations and hospitals. If he's at one of those, we'll know within a couple of hours."

Police stations? Hospitals? Monica was on the verge of tears. Then her phone pinged. It was a text from John.

He sent her a picture of their dining room table with a stack of mail on it. He said, "I picked up the mail."

Monica was confused. She replied:

Monica: "Where are you? When did you take that picture?"

John: "At the apartment. Just now."

Monica gasped, "Oh, my God!"

The manager asked, "Mrs. Blake, did you reach your husband. Is he okay?"

"Yes. One minute." Monica found the nearest chair and sat down. Fearing but expecting the response:

Monica: "Why?"

John: "You left me no choice."

Monica: "Please say you are meeting me in Miami."

John: "No. I'll be gone by the time you return here."

Monica: "I'm calling you. Please pick up."

She told the manager that her husband was at home and they wouldn't need to search for him in Cozumel or Cancun. The manager felt bad for Monica. This wasn't the first time he had seen this.

John's phone rang and rang, but he did not pick up. She texted:

Monica: "John, please talk to me."

John: "Talking doesn't do any good. I'm done."

Oh no! Monica: "Please! I can't live without you."

John: "You've been doing a damn fine job of it lately."

Ouch. She couldn't believe it. He left her. He left her! On a ship in the middle of the Caribbean. He left her! Monica lowered her head and wept. A minute later she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Jessie and Mark.

Jessie said, "Monica, Andrea asked us to come and check on you. What's happened?"

Her eyes were already red, and her eyeliner was running. "He left me. He actually left me. He flew back to San Antonio today. I guess from Cozumel."

"Oh, you poor thing. I'm so sorry. What can we do?"

Monica said, "Nothing. There's nothing left to do. Tonight, I'll go back to my cabin and sleep. Tomorrow, I'll sit on my balcony and work. Then I'll fly home and work some more."

Mark said, "Did Andrea tell you why she divorced her husband?"

Monica shook her head, and Mark continued, "She never saw him. He was either working or screwing whoever he was working with. She finally got tired of it. Now I'm not suggesting you're like him, but it's hard to have a marriage when the other person feels neglected."

Jessie chastised her husband, "Mark, she doesn't need to hear that. Monica, I'm sure you still have a chance. I watched him dance with you. I saw the guilt on his face yesterday. That man is in love with you. You still have a chance, if you want him badly enough."

That was the question, wasn't it? How badly did she want him?

The elderly couple escorted her back to her cabin. Mark left and Jessie stayed with her for a few minutes to make sure she was going to be okay. Jessie asked, "Are you okay for me to leave you? You aren't going to do anything foolish, are you?"

"No, ma'am. I'll be okay. I'm going to be ready to get out of here once we arrive in Miami, and I'm going to go get my husband back."

"There you go, girl. That's the spirit."

Monica smiled at Jessie as she was closing the door. As soon as it was closed, Monica collapsed on the bed and sobbed. How did she let it get this far?

_____________

The next morning, Monica checked her room. It only took her a few minutes to make sure that things were in a good place for easy packing that night and the next morning.

She sent John a text:

Monica: "Good morning, husband. I love you and miss you. I'll be home for you tomorrow."

John didn't reply.

Around lunchtime, she thought the knock on her door was room service bringing the lunch she had ordered. It wasn't.

"Andrea, what are you doing here?"

"I talked to my parents last night and again this morning. There's something I want to tell you."

Monica had a confused look on her face and said, "Go on."

"Your husband is a keeper. You know that, right?"

"I believe so. Yes. Why are you telling me this?"

Andrea continued, "Have you ever ridden on a jet-ski before? With a guy."

Monica nodded her head, "It was a long time ago. Before John and I started dating."

"John and I thought it would be okay to share a jet-ski. We're adults. Perfectly innocent. Right? Apparently neither of us had ridden one with a member of the opposite sex before."

"Oh," replied Monica, beginning to remember some of her own experiences from back then.

"That's right. So unintentionally, we were squeezed pretty tightly to each other for over an hour the other day. When I was behind him, my boobs were either bouncing all over his back or squeezed into him. If I loosened my grip on him for even a minute, my hand would flop down towards his groin. When it was my turn to drive, and his arms were around my midsection, my boobs were bouncing up and down on his arms, and his groin was pressed up against my behind. Guess what? That's all that happened. There was nothing sensual about it. I kissed him on the cheek when we finished and thanked him for being a gentleman."

Monica asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

"Because I think you have a pretty special man, and I want to ask you a favor. If you are half as smart as I think you are, you're going to try to win him back. I don't know if you're willing to do what it takes to get him, but the two of you have a foundation of love that you could be building on."

"I don't understand."

Andrea asked, "How badly do you want to keep your husband?"

"Like my life depends on it."

"Are you sure about that?"

Now Monica was getting irritated. "Of course, I am. What business is it of yours anyway?"

"It's not any of my business...yet. However, if you give up, I would appreciate it, if you would let me know."

"What? Why?"

Andrea smirked, "Because either you're going to get him, or I am. I'm not a homewrecker, so you get first shot; but if you give in or give up, I'm coming for him."

Monica had a perplexed look on her face.

"I think John's a pretty special man. I doubt he's perfect, but I'm at least interested enough to pursue him. Do you know if he wants children of his own? You know I already have two, but I might be able to have one more before I get too old."

Monica was flabbergasted at her statements. "You... you want to have kids with him?"

"I might. If he decides he isn't interested in either of us, I'm sure there are plenty of women that will be interested in him. He's nice and a good dancer. He seems like a good earner. He clearly loves his wife. He's a gentleman. That's a pretty good start for me, and I'm sure it would be for a lot of other women. Oh, he's cute, too."

"Now wait just a minute. He's still married to me."

With her best poker face Andrea said, "Oh, Honey, I know he is. That's why I'm letting you try to win him back first. All I ask is that if you give up then let me know, so I can take my best shot at him."

"I don't plan on your getting a shot at him."

"I know and completely understand. You know," then she paused, "this is just-in-case."

Frustrated, Monica began walking towards the door. "There isn't going to be any 'just-in-case.' He's mine, and I'm keeping him."

"Oh, I know, I know. I'm sure you are. I guess we'll see how serious you are about meaning that."

Becoming angered by Andrea's patronizing, Monica growled while standing by the door, "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to finish some work today, so I can go spend time with MY husband tomorrow."

"No problem. Good luck, dear. May the best woman win."

Monica slammed the door behind her.

"That bitch!" Monica swore in frustration.

Andrea just smiled. "A job well done," she thought.

A few minutes later, Andrea met her parents and reported the conversation. "It went pretty much like you said it would. She seems serious about trying to keep him, but I guess we'll see how badly she wants to over the next few days and weeks. John isn't responding to her. Is he responding to either of you?"

Mark replied, "He apologized yesterday for skipping out on us. All he has said today is that he would let us know how he's doing once he's settled in."

Andrea asked, "Do you believe he's going to divorce her?"

Mark replied, "He left her where she couldn't reach him physically for almost two full days. He didn't just go home to sit and wait for her. He was giving himself a head start. I suspect either he's moving out or moving her out. I'm not sure which. That doesn't mean that she doesn't have a chance, but it means that she had better be ready to decide which she loves more - her job or her husband. She doesn't get to keep her current job and him. Not going to happen."

Andrea stared off into the distance, thinking.

Jessie said, "You aren't planning on doing anything, yet, are you?"

"With him? Right now? No. But if they don't get back together, then yes. Yes, I am."

________________

The next morning Monica was packed bright and early and eager to catch an early flight home. At 7:00 am there was a knock on the door. It looked like a steward but was someone from guest services.

"Good morning, Mrs. Blake. I'll be your luggage valet when you are ready. Mr. Blake asked me to make sure that your disembarkation went as smoothly and easily as possible. Here is my card, please call me ten minutes before you are ready to leave, and I'll make sure your and Mr. Blake's bags are delivered to your airline and that your car is waiting to pick you up. I hope you've had a pleasant cruise."

This was nice. Very unexpected, but very nice. "Thank you, so much," she replied. "The first few days were wonderful, but I've had to work the last several."

"I'm sorry to hear about your work schedule. At least you had a wonderful room from which to work."

"I did. I'm going to eat quickly, then I'll give you a call."

"Very well, ma'am."

___________

Monica continued to text John, but he never responded. At least she could see they were being delivered. He hadn't blocked her, nor changed his cell phone number...yet.

It was a very easy trip to the airport, with only having to manage her carry on. She was very nervous, not sure what to expect upon arriving home, which even with the earlier flight, wouldn't be until after lunch.

After arriving at the San Antonio Airport, she saw a driver by her luggage claim holding a sign for "Mrs. Blake." Monica identified herself to the driver, and he helped her with the bags. Upon arriving at her and John's apartment, the driver assisted her to the front door and then bid her a good day.

"The moment of truth," she thought. What would she find on the inside?

Upon opening the door, she saw....nothing unusual. Everything was exactly where it was supposed to be. The pile of mail that was in the picture John sent was gone.

"John? John? I'm home," she called out.

Silence.

"John?!" she continued.

Nothing was any different until she got to the bedroom. The room was still impeccably clean, like they left it, however when she looked in the closet, all of his clothes were gone. She checked his drawers and toiletries that he didn't take on the cruise, and they were gone also. She looked in the home office and his laptop and work items were missing.

She had hoped he was simply angry and would talk to her when she got home, but that wasn't the case.

He was gone.

She tried to call his phone, but it went straight to voice mail. She sent him another text but did not get a reply.

What she wanted to do was to crawl up on the bed and cry until she fell asleep, but she didn't have that luxury. Tomorrow was Monday and she had to review all of her and her team's work from the past several days with Linda and the client. Tomorrow would be a big day.

She tried to put John out of her mind, but she couldn't. Oh, she put her things away and laid out her business suit and things for tomorrow, like she needed to. But every time she spent more than a few minutes thinking about work, a picture of Andrea in THAT swimsuit would pop into her head along with the last thing Andrea said, "May the best woman win."

Monica was determined to be the winner. She would do whatever it took after she met with her client tomorrow.

________________

Monica rose early and beat most of the other managers, including Linda, into the office. She sent John a text: Monica: "Wish me luck today. It should all be over by lunchtime, then I'm coming to find you. I love you!!"

She didn't receive a reply and didn't expect to. That was okay, though; She would make him see the light after today.

She received a few polite greetings, and a few asked her about her vacation, which she embellished about its wonderfulness, minimizing the amount of time she had to work. She didn't fool anyone. Many of her team were working alongside her, virtually, the last several days. This deal was too important to the firm for them not to.

When Linda came in, she was all smiles. She had reviewed all the materials for the day and complimented Monica and her team in glowing terms. When word of how Linda and Monica's team worked this deal climbed up the food chain, Linda could foresee another promotion in her not-too-distant future, and a fat bonus check to boot. When her husband returned from his overseas trip, he would be pleased by that. Monica had shined yet again.

When the client team came in, Linda and Monica were prepared. The boardroom table was polished, the projector was focused, the squeaky chairs had been oiled and seating places were designated. There was a squad of junior staff shuffling about ensuring that anything the client might need, such as drinks, snacks, restroom directions, etc., were available and ready.

All through the meeting, the client team loved what Monica and company were able to do with their last-minute requests. Even though Linda was the higher-ranking person, Monica was in charge of the presentation and discussion, since it had been her responsibility. At the end of the meeting, only cosmetic alterations to some of the document's language were needed and the offering was ready to be placed in the market. Success.

As soon as the meeting was concluded, the plan was to take the client to lunch to celebrate, network, and look for any potential new business opportunities. Linda would ensure that the right senior managers from her firm would be joining them for those discussions.

Once the doors to the conference room were open, people began shuffling in and out to find the restroom or make a few calls. Linda, Monica and several from the client team were sitting around chatting waiting for the others to go to lunch when a tall man in a dark suit wearing some sharp ostrich boots entered the room. He spotted Monica standing by the table talking to someone and walked over to her.

"Monica Blake?" he asked.

"Yes?"

"I was asked to give you this and was to ask you to read it now. It is a short note. It's important."

Confused as to what this could be, Monica took the small envelope, the size of a greeting card, and opened it. From the envelope, she pulled out a card. On the outside was inscribed, "I'm sorry." On the inside was a brief note.

Monica,

I almost hate to do this to you at work, but here's your epiphany. This was necessary for you to finally see who you work with. Recently, we discussed a day when you would realize what you mean to them as a person versus what you mean to them as an employee. I suspect today is that day. See who supports you, and who doesn't. You are becoming just like them. If that is what you want, congratulations.

John

She felt something weighty inside the envelope and reached inside to see what it was. It was John's wedding ring. She gasped upon seeing it. Upon hearing her gasp, nearly a dozen sets of eyes turned towards her to witness the next event.

"Monica Blake, you've been served." The tall man placed the envelope in front of her and turned to leave.

The only noise that could be heard in the room was the sound of the process server's footsteps walking across the soft carpet as he left the room. With trembling hands, she opened the large manilla envelope. The first words she saw were "Petition for Dissolution of Marriage."

She collapsed into the closest chair. She wouldn't cry. She couldn't; not in that setting. She was fighting back the tears, but she couldn't help it.

Ultimately, it wasn't one of her coworkers that came to her assistance, but someone from the client team. Everyone else suddenly found something else to discuss on the other side of the room. Stephanie, who she had only spoken to a few times, helped her up and into the ladies' room.

In the restroom, Stephanie asked, "Can I do anything for you?"

"It's too late. I thought that after today, I could find him and fix everything, but I'm afraid it's over. I guess he finally said, 'enough was enough.'"

"You still have time. You can fight the divorce."

Monica sniffled, "It won't do any good. This has been brewing for a long time. I just thought that he would never leave me. I've never been unfaithful to him, and I don't think he has to me." She was surprised at herself opening up to this almost stranger.

Stephanie said, "So, I'm assuming that means he got tired of your long hours?"

Monica nodded.

"Tsk. Tsk. Well, it seems you have a decision to make. I cannot help you with that. Are you going to be okay? Can I get you anything?"

Monica shook her head, "No, thank you."

Stephanie stayed while Monica repaired her makeup and tried to look presentable, though for what she wasn't sure. The client had signed off on the deal. As far as she was concerned, her day was over. Lunch? Forget it. What she wanted was a couple of bottles of wine and a gallon's worth of her favorite comfort food: ice cream.

When they walked back into the conference room, everyone was there and ready for lunch.

Donald Rodriguez, a distinguished-looking man in his late fifties, that had worked his way up through the company, was the SVP leading the client team. He approached Monica, having heard the scuttlebutt after she left the room. "Monica, why didn't you call me and tell me that you were on vacation. We could have pushed this back a week."

The shock on her face revealed that this was never given to her as an option. Trying to take one for the team, and fearing that might be all she had left at the moment, she replied, "We want our clients to be completely satisfied with our work. This project was too important to delay."

He smiled at her, understanding why she would feel the need to say that. He said, "I appreciate your saying that, and I am pleased with the quality of the work. However, I would prefer that we reschedule this lunch for another day when the timing is better for you."

Linda was aghast at that suggestion and stepped in to try and fix the situation. "Donald, I don't think that is necessary. I'm sure Monica will be fine after a nice glass of wine. If she's too uncomfortable, then I'll be happy to let her have a little time to deal with her troubles."