Who Needs to Talk

Her response was non-committal, but left her options open with, "I'm not sure Lew will buy that. Let me think about it."

The weekend was hard work. I could not say anything about what I knew, but she was over-the-top nice. We had sex Friday night, Saturday morning, and Saturday night. On Sunday, she took me to bed in the middle of the afternoon, again on Sunday night, and a quickie Monday morning.

Monday at three, Ross phoned and updated me on the latest email.

"Bad news. She just emailed Clarke, and said she would suggest it to you on Thursday night. If you said no she would not do it, if you said yes she would. He came back to her and said 'Remember if he gets antsy, that forgiveness is easier to ask for than permission.'"

I thanked Ross and asked him to prepare a file of everything we had. I asked if they had any photos of the two of them being intimate.

I heard papers rustling and he came back saying, "We have a photo of them kissing. Not a passionate kiss, but a kiss nonetheless."

I said, "Good. Will you put everything into a folder and have that photo as the cover page on the outside. Also, send the full folder to my attorney."

He confirmed he would.

My next call was to my attorney. I gave him a heads up and advised him that the folder would be with him later. We agreed she would be served in the hotel on Saturday morning, during breakfast. Nothing like a divorce petition to give her indigestion.

On Monday night, she was looking for sex, but I begged off saying I had a big proposal to complete. I sat in the office and did some work. I didn't go to bed until two in the morning. She was sound asleep. I only slept fitfully and was up for 6:00am, and off to work before she could attack me.

The folder was delivered by courier. I sat in the office and read it. You could see the seduction technique. It was unsettling, but it was clearly effective. Ross had included details (but no names) of at least seven marriages he had destroyed in the last eighteen months.

There was also a note from Dan in the folder. He had gone to the Holiday Inn and joined his wife and Clarke at the table. His wife freaked and ran out of the restaurant crying. Ross had to step in to prevent Dan attacking Clarke, then took him home.

He and his wife have started counselling to see if they can save their marriage as they have three children under the age of eight. At the very least, a temporary fix would give them time, and his wife had left her job, so Clarke was out of the picture.

As I was reading, my secretary came into the room. She looked straight at me and said nothing. Before I knew what was happening, I was crying my eyes out and telling her the whole story.

When I was finished, she asked, "What are you going to do about it?"

For the first time in a while, I smiled. I didn't know why, but she was no longer my secretary, she was a friend trying to help. I also noticed something else I had not seen before, she was actually very sexy.

She smiled back.

I said, "Plan A is divorce. If she leaves on Friday with him, she will be served on Saturday morning at the hotel. No second chances. I was trying to come up with a Plan B to make her stop, but my mind is in such a fog I can't think of one."

My secretary, who I had always addressed as Miss Attwood, but who referred to herself as Katie, smiled a wicked smile, and quoted, "'What is sauce for the goose is also sauce for the gander.' Why don't you have your own weekend away with your dream girl?"

I couldn't help but smile back, and asked, "And who would I be going on that with?"

I knew the answer before she said it, but she answered, "Me, of course. Your ever faithful secretary has gotten under your skin, and you just have to get it out of your system. It would only be sex and nothing to do with your marriage. You have the template in that email. Drop it on her before she drops it on you."

It was brilliant for its simplicity, but also would make Ruby confront her own cheating, head on.

Tuesday night, I fucked my wife, no loving. It was hard. On Wednesday morning, neither of us was fit for a quickie. Wednesday night was a little less frantic, but only just. Thursday morning, as I was leaving the house, Ruby woke up. She shouted down something about dinner, but I deliberately ignored it.

About midday on Thursday, Ross called me to say Ruby emailed Clarke to say she was making me a big dinner and she would let him know how the discussion went.

I was going to pre-empt her, so I went to the store and bought chicken, potatoes and veggies, all of which I was going to roast, along with a bottle of her favourite white wine. I was home for two-thirty, and had everything prepared and in the oven two hours later. Just as I was putting the potatoes in to roast, Ruby came through the door carrying shopping bags.

She looked at me, confused, and asked, "What are you doing?"

I gave her a huge smile. "Just preparing dinner for my lovely wife. I wanted to do something special, then we need to talk." I could see a strange look on her face.

Clearly surprised, she said, "Oh, I was going to make dinner, Can we talk after we finish because I have something important I need to do, so it is going to be a long night."

I said, "Sure," but turned away with a smile on my face. I had already put a big wrench in her plans.

Dinner was strained. I was driving the conversation, so that every time she even got close to moving the conversation to her talking to me, I took it away, saying, "Let's enjoy this nice meal, then I will tell you my big news."

After we finished, I spoke first. "Bring your wine into the kitchen and we can talk."

She followed me in. I had placed the folder, which had the email containing her list of excuses, on the kitchen table where I normally sat, covered by a couple of magazines, earlier. I removed the magazines, so she could see I had something typed up, but nothing else.

I stated, "Ruby, you know I love you, and that I would never do anything to hurt you, but we married very young, and I had so little experience. Over the last few months, my new secretary, Miss Attwood, or Katie, as she likes me to use, has been talking to me. She has so many stories to tell, I can just listen to her for hours. I have now got to get her out of my system before you and I settle down for the rest of our lives.

"I have booked to take her away this weekend, it will only be sex, and a bit of me time-- to let off steam and learn some new tricks for us to play with in bed. It has nothing to do with my love for you, and won't affect our marriage. I'm telling you so you know in advance, and that way I won't be cheating on you. I know you love me so much that you will let me have this one weekend out of our marriage, without it hurting us in any way."

Ruby's face was crimson. I thought she was going to explode. Then she announced, "Over my dead body! And I want that slut sacked on Monday morning, or we are history!"

That broke the tension I had been feeling, and I produced the biggest belly laugh anyone could imagine. I said, "You should see your face, it's a picture. This couldn't have worked better!"

At that moment, it hit her. Everything I had said, she was about to say to me. I closed the folder and handed it to her. The picture on the front was of her kissing Clarke. Her face went almost grey, as she whispered, "You knew and you played me."

I smiled. "Yes, I did. I think your response is exactly what mine would be if you had blindsided me. For the record, unlike you, there is no hotel booked, and unlike you, Miss Attwood and I have never had lunch, never kissed and never ever discussed our personal or sex lives. My story was a figment of my imagination. Yours, on the other hand, is all real."

As I was saying this, she was flicking through the folder. The extent of my knowledge was a revelation to her. Dates, times, and pictures of lunches and intimate moments; copies of her secret emails, transcripts of telephone calls. It was all there.

She fumed, "You had me followed, you have invaded my privacy. HOW COULD YOU DO THAT?!"

I felt calm, this was it. Make or break time. I loved this woman, but she had to know there were limits-- and she was standing right on the line. "You get yourself a boyfriend, you start an emotional affair, you plan on turning it into a physical one -- humiliating me and destroying our marriage in the process -- and you are angry with me for trying to stop it. I thought we could recover from this, but I might be wrong," I replied, more in sadness than in anger.

"What do you mean, 'humiliating you and destroying our marriage'? I was planning no such thing. This was something outside our marriage." Clearly, she was starting to recite the cheater's handbook. "Why would it affect us?"

"Listen to what you said." I reminded her, "Then think about your response to me saying the same thing; the phrase you used was 'over my dead body'. So why is it OK for you to cheat, and not me."

She took a deep breath, as if about to say something.

I lifted my hand, and added, "There are no hall passes. If you go with this Clarke guy, it's cheating. Telling me in advance does not change that."

She looked down, then spluttered, "I can't process this right now, I need to be on my own."

With that final statement, she stood up and ran upstairs. I noticed she took the folder with her. I heard the bedroom door close and the door being locked.

I cleaned up the house and sat down. Ross had also given me a tablet computer that gave me access to the server showing all of Ruby's phone activity. I sat down and opened it. She had been emailing Clarke. I read with interest.

Her first email was, "Oh god Alistair, he knows, he had us followed and he has copies of messages. When I got home tonight he had a meal ready and he hit me with exactly what I was going to say. I exploded at the thought of him with another woman. Then he showed me the folder. It has everything, including the booking. What am I going to do?"

Clarke clearly didn't see this as a problem. He replied within a few minutes. "Just tell him it's booked and you need to do it. Make sure you emphasise your love for him and ask him does he love you as much as you love him. He will understand you need one weekend."

You could almost hear the despair in the written word. "I tried that but he said it would humiliate him and destroy our marriage. That even if I ask him it is still cheating. I can't do it. I have to pull out. A weekend away would be fun but I can't risk it destroying the rest of my live with Lew"

Now he was getting desperate. All his effort and money was about to be wasted, so he went for the big play. "Do you think he will divorce you? I don't. He will never get a woman like you. Tell you what, pack your bag and bring it to work. Let's see what he does and if nothing happens let's go on the weekend and you can beg his forgiveness on Sunday. I know your husband's type and he will not want to lose you at any cost"

What a load of BS that was, but regrettably, she bought it. The last email in the chain was, "OK. But if anything even looks like he will leave me I am not doing it. See you tomorrow."

She was beginning to rationalise this and he certainly knew how to smooth talk her. I put the tablet away and sat down to watch TV. I didn't really watch, as my mind was all over the place. I had set serving divorce papers for Saturday; perhaps I should bring it forward. But, I knew once I served, I would not retract. No, I needed to do something else tomorrow that showed her I was serious.

I phoned my attorney and gave him a rundown. "Hi, I just hit her with it and Clarke has given her a story saying I will forgive her. She is going to pack her bag and see what I do. I don't want to serve divorce papers until after they sleep together. But can we do something to show her how serious we are?"

My attorney was sharp. He came back with, "We can serve her with a pre-action letter. All we would do is set out that you know she is going away for a liaison this weekend, and that if she continues with the liaison, we will have her served on Saturday morning in the hotel with divorce proceedings. I will pad it out a bit, but we will serve it on her in her office, preferably in front of Clarke. What do you think?"

"That would work. It would be definitive proof of what I will do. She said Clarke was picking her up at lunchtime, I think you should serve her around eleven o'clock. Doesn't matter if he is there or not, her employer will pick up on what is happening. He's an old-fashioned sort, and will not take kindly to what she is doing, but will be most upset by a process server coming into the office and making a scene."

About an hour later, the attorney sent me a draft of the letter. It was ideal for the circumstance. It set out what we knew, and it made it clear she would be served on Saturday morning. I sent back a message confirming that I was happy with the draft.

I checked the tablet, but there had been no more communication between Ruby and Clarke, so I went up to bed. I tried the bedroom door, expecting it to be locked, but was surprised to find it wasn't.

I went in to find Ruby lying in bed, clearly hoping I would be romantic. I noticed her packed bag leaning against the wall on her side of the bed. I looked at her. "I see you have made up your mind. A quick fuck with Clarke is more important than our marriage." I turned and left the room, heading for the guest room.

I heard her get out of bed and shout, "Lew, stop! It's not like that. Come back and let me show you how it makes me feel, how much your love means to me. Please!"

I didn't respond. I just lay on top of the bed in my clothes. The emails were in the third person, not real-- but seeing the bag, packed and ready for another man was real, emotional and like a knife to the heart. I wasn't ready for the grief and feelings of loss I was having, and I cried for most of the night.

The next morning, I could hear Ruby downstairs. I went into our bedroom to take a shower and get some fresh clothes. I noticed the bag was no longer there. I wondered if she had taken it downstairs, or had she unpacked it and put it away.

As I came out of the shower, I smelt coffee and bacon. My guess was the bag was downstairs.

I came into the kitchen and took one look at her. She looked back at me, biting her bottom lip. My first thought was-- go for it, she's nervous, don't hold back now.

"I assume this spread is to try and show me how great a wife you will be if you can go fuck another man. It won't work. You do this, we are done." As I was speaking, I decided to lay it all on the line. "It is arranged that you will be served with divorce papers tomorrow morning at breakfast. I assure you, once served, they will not be retracted. There will be no forgiveness. If you come home tonight, we will start counselling to work out how to rebuild trust, and ensure that this does not happen again. If you go with him, don't bother coming back here, you will not be welcome."

I turned to go out.

She said, "Please stay for breakfast. We need to talk about this."

I turned back to her, and answered, "We already talked. Your packed bag means you only want to persuade me, not talk. I don't want breakfast here. I have to start learning to look after myself if you go through with this. I'm assuming the bag is already in your car?"

She looked away. Looks like I was right.

I left the house to silence. At least she knew the abyss she was looking into.

When I arrived at the office, Katie took one look at me, and said, "You look like shit!"

I smiled. "And you look as sexy as ever. Before you ask, I have no idea how it went. When I hit her with Plan B, she lost the plot-- wanted you fired and even said 'over my dead body.' Then she went full-on for herself. She took a weekend bag with her this morning. I am having her served with a pre-action letter at eleven this morning. Let's see if that shakes her."

Katie was making coffee as I spoke. She handed me one, as she replied, "I hope she comes to her senses, she can't be that stupid to think it's OK for her, but not OK for you."

I smiled a sad smile at her, and sat at the desk. This was not going to be a productive day.

Just after eleven, my mobile rang. It was Ruby. I could just about make her out through the tears.

"Are you serious, will you really divorce me?"

Clearly, she had persuaded herself I would not. I just said, "Without a second thought, if you cheat on me. Cheating is a deal breaker. We both know that. Would you divorce me if I cheated on you?"

The reply was so quiet, I could hardly hear it, but there was a definite, "Yes." She cleared her throat. "Will you come home now to talk?"

"I will be there in twenty minutes," was all I said, as I hung up the phone.

I was home first and put the coffee on. The smell of the bacon she had cooked this morning still hung in the air, so I opened the kitchen windows before sitting down at the table.

She arrived at the house ten minutes after me. I started pouring us a coffee each, as she came through the door; the envelope from my attorney was in one hand, and the weekend bag was over her shoulder.

She dropped the bag at the door and stood still. I think she wanted to run over to hug me, but didn't know if I would let her. I carried the coffee to the table then sat down, pointing at her seat.

My first words were a question. "Are you going to the hotel, or not?"

"How could you even ask that after you sent this, of course I'm not going. I love you, I want to be with you. I know you will never allow this, so it's off. Now we need to fix our marriage, or will I still be served?" she enquired, as she sat down opposite me with her chin on her chest.

I looked at her, and reached over the table to lift her chin so she was looking at me. I said, "You will only be served if you are in the hotel. No hotel, no service. But our marriage has been very badly damaged. So this is what will happen.

"First, you will phone Clarke, in front of me. I want to hear you tell him it's off. Next, you will deactivate and delete the private email account you have for him. Then you will phone your boss and tell him what Clarke is doing and ask that he not be allowed into your office again. After that, we will book counselling. We need to find out why you fell for this, why you think I would accept it, and how we rebuild trust."

Just as I finished talking, her phone rang. It was Clarke.

She put it on speaker, and I heard him asking, "Where are you, Ruby? I am in reception waiting for you. I can't wait."

She took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "Alistair, I am at home with Lew. He did something that shook me to my core and if I go with you, my marriage will be destroyed and I am sorry, you aren't worth that. So I will not be going."

His vitriol was off the scale. "You stupid bitch, do you know how much effort, time and money I put into you. Now you walk away when the wimp throws his toys out of the cot. You are just a fucking cock-tease. Piss off!" With that he hung up.

For the first time, Ruby saw what he was, a slime ball.

Deactivating and deleting the email account was more difficult than expected, but was achieved within the hour. By the time we were finished, her boss, along with the HR manager, was at our door.

The HR Manager, Mervin Woods, started with, "Ruby, we are aware of what happened today. To say we are not happy is an understatement, but we are here to give you a chance to keep your job. Now, tell us what happened?"

She picked up a tissue and dabbed her eye before she started. "As you know, the new AM Metals salesman Alistair Clarke took over our account about three months ago. I was responsible for the account, and he would come in to see me nearly every day. I didn't realise it at first, but he started flirting with me-- complimenting me on my dress, my hair, and even my smile. Soon, he was making comments about my nice butt and how my breasts were so perfect.