You Break It, You Bought It.

"Well, I'm not all right and your apology is not accepted."

She had no idea what to say.

After a few moments, he responded to the silence. "If that's all, I'll say goodbye."

"No wait," she almost yelled. "Please, Adam, please, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you..."

"And yet you did," he said, cutting in. "You ripped out my heart like there was nothing to it. You destroyed my world, my hopes, my dreams... my love."

That last part especially felt like a dagger in her heart. She had nothing she could say. She started crying again, so Adam continued.

"We're done, Michelle. This was not a moment of weakness on your part. You had to have prepared for this. I assume you had some kind of plan for writing your story since you weren't even going to be at that luncheon, so you must have had everything worked out ahead of time. You even made sure we made love last night so I wouldn't be suspicious."

"NO," she yelled, finally speaking. "No, I wanted to show you how much I love you."

He chuckled at that. "Yeah," he snarked. "You love me so much you snuck around behind my back and deliberately deceived me so you could go fuck another guy! Hell, if it hadn't been for a client that wasn't ready for their shoot today, I'd probably never have known. How many others have there been... others I've never known about?"

"Oh, Adam, please believe me, this was the only time I've ever done anything like this. I... I just..."

"You just what... thought you could get away with it?"

"No," she cried out. "I... I had a crush on him in high school. I just..."

"You just thought you'd screw him and your idiot unsuspecting husband would never know?"

"Adam, that's not..."

"I loved you with all my heart," he sadly stated, cutting her off again. He really wasn't interested in what she had to say. He wanted to somehow make her understand how much she hurt him; although he doubted if that was even possible.

"I'd have given my life for you. Now, I don't know. There's probably a part of me that still loves you, but not like I did, not like before. There's no coming back from this, Michelle. I don't trust you anymore, and I'll be damned if I'm going to spend the rest of my life wondering if my wife is cheating on me. "

Michelle knew as soon as she saw him in the parking lot that nothing would ever be the same again. She sat there, his words ringing in her ears as she thought of all their future plans that would now never come to fruition. More tears spilled onto her lovely cheeks. Adam's voice brought her back to the conversation.

"Did you talk to Clint?"

"Yeah," she answered as she wept.

"Do you still have a job?"

"I... I don't know yet. He's going to talk to the managing editor. I might have to talk to him, too."

"Well good luck. I mean that. You're a good reporter. You destroyed your marriage today; I hope you didn't destroy your career, as well." He couldn't talk to her anymore. Listening to her sobs from the other end of the line was getting to him.

"Listen, we'll have to talk about what each of us wants and what to do about the apartment, but I don't want to discuss anything more right now. I'm sorry, Michelle. I'm sorry I don't have it in me to forgive you, but I don't. I don't know that I'll ever trust any woman again, let alone you. We'll talk again in a few days. Bye." He didn't wait for a response before disconnecting.

It was a long weekend.

Clay was admitted to the hospital. He had a couple loose teeth and a hairline fracture of the lower jaw bone, along with a slight concussion. They strapped an icepack to the side of his face and kept him overnight in case the swelling restricted his breathing. The fracture, they said, would heal on its own, but he was going to be taking his meals through a straw for a while.

He thought about calling his wife. Maybe she'd sympathize, then again, she might just tell him he deserved what he got. As depressed as he was feeling, he really didn't want to hear that.

He decided to call Terry, but after ringing several times, it went to voicemail. The icepack numbed the pain a little but made it even harder to talk. Still, he had to leave a message.

"Hey, bro, I got into a little scrape after leaving the headquarters. I'm in Mercy Hospital with a broken jaw. Call me, will you... please." He hit disconnect and laid there... thinking. He couldn't do much else.

He wondered how Adam caught on. He must have known about the luncheon being canceled. No, how would he know about that? It was more likely that Michelle tipped him off—stupid cunt, he thought... but how in the hell did he know what motel they were at?

He decided he wasn't going to worry about it, it didn't make any difference anyway; he was fucked. His wife was surely pissed and might even want a divorce. "Damn," he whispered to the empty room, "I wonder what that will cost?" Then he thought of the other aspect. He really did love his wife and kids, and for the first time that day, a sadness came over him. He wasn't a religious man, but if all else fails... he said a silent prayer and promised God that if he could save his marriage, he'd never stray again.

*****

After hanging up with Michelle, Adam mindlessly watched some TV until he attempted to get some sleep. After tossing and turning for what felt like a lifetime, he sat up in bed and tried watching a little more of the boob tube. It was four o'clock when he gave up. He took a shower, dressed, and walked out to the street. There was a lit-up Denny's sign a couple blocks down.

He sat at the counter, picking at his steak and eggs.

"Something wrong with the food, sir?"

He looked up at the middle-aged waitress. "Huh, oh no, I'm just not as hungry as I thought I was, that's all."

She smiled and filled his cup for the third time. "You want me to put it in a container to go?"

"No thanks. I'm in the motel down the street. I don't have any way of warming it up. I'm just going to drink this and go," he said, reaching for the fresh cup of coffee.

As he left, he didn't feel like going back to his room. He looked to the east and wondered how far it was to the lake. It had to be two miles, at least. Hell, only one way to find out, the walk will do me good, he told himself.

He was approaching Belmont Harbor when he saw the first small hint of light peeking over the horizon. He walked over and took a seat on one of the large rocks along the shoreline. He had never been to the lake that early in the morning. It was so peaceful it almost made him forget.

He closed his eyes and leaned back on his hands as he breathed in the fresh air coming off the massive body of water. It was refreshing and made him smile for the first time in a while.

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was just cresting the water's edge. He watched as light from the rising ball of fire created horizontal streaks of red and gold in the sky. It was the start of a new day—the first day absent from the most important person in his life. A couple tears trickled down his face as he felt the hole she left in his heart.

*****

Michelle couldn't stop crying. Intermittently she would cry herself to sleep, only to wake up a little while later and cry some more. She desperately tried coming up with something that would make Adam forgive her, but it was useless. She knew him too well. Nothing she could say or do was going to make it happen.

She wondered where he was... how he was doing. She also wondered how he found out. He said something about a client not being ready for their shoot, but how could something like that have led him to the motel?

She looked toward the window and saw light sneaking in from behind the shade. She rolled onto her side and stared at the lonely pillow alongside her. Never again would she wake up with Adam lying next to her. The thought was devastating. She reached over and pulled the pillow to her face to smell his scent. She had no tears left, but that didn't stop her from breaking down and sobbing once again.

Sunday was a wasted day for all involved. Clay tried calling his wife, then his brother, neither answered. The same was true for Michelle when she mustered the nerve to try Adam. On Monday they all showed up for work.

Charlene looked up and smirked as he passed. Clay figured she knew about his little dalliance and came to the correct conclusion. He said nothing as he headed for the back room where Terry was sitting at the conference table.

"It looks like the photographer discovered your fuck session. I thought he looked in pretty good shape. Well, it serves you right."

"Gee, thanks," Clay mumbled from a badly bruised face. "I... I've got a broken jaw, it's hard to talk," he muttered.

"Marvelous, a campaign manager that can't talk. You're as useless as tits on a bull. Why don't you go home and try to patch things up with Laura."

"I..." he still winced in pain when trying to speak. "I don't think she'd let me in; besides, we have to figure out how to replace that fifty grand."

*****

Clint's chair was empty when Michelle walked in. She sat down at her desk and looked around, wondering if anyone knew of her shame. She sat there for twenty minutes, sweating it out before she saw Clint step out of the elevator. He walked over to her desk and told her to follow him to his office.

Michelle felt like she was walking to the gallows. She followed him into his office and closed the door, then sat as instructed.

"We're not going to fire you," he stated.

One bullet dodged, she thought.

"But—you won't be going on any real stories for a while," he said, finishing his statement. "You're back to cub reporter status, and I'll be frank, I had to fight for that. They were going to fire you."

"Clint, I don't know what to say. Thank you. I'm so sorry I put you in this position."

"Me too," he countered. "I've always liked you Michelle, but damn it, how..." he shook his head. "I can't tell you how disappointed I am, not only with your work ethic, or I should say lack of it, but cheating on Adam? That guy loves the hell out of you. You should have heard how worried he was when he couldn't get ahold of you that day."

He could see tears streaking her face. "Go on, beat it. I'll find something for you to do in a little bit."

Michelle left the office and went straight to the lady's room to cry.

*****

Adam asked for a quick private meeting with his boss. "Phil, I need the day off."

His boss looked like someone just stuck him in the butt with a hatpin. "No can do, you know that. Hell, I came down here yesterday and opened the back door so West Wind could drop off all their stuff for the shoot. Shit, I'll bet there's two-hundred dresses back there, not to mention shoes and purses. Their models will be here in an hour. I'm sorry, Adam, but there's just no way."

That was pretty much what he expected, but he thought it was worth a try. "Okay," he replied with a sigh, "but do me a favor, don't book anything for me after this. I need the rest of the week off."

This was extremely unusual for Adam. He was very conscientious. Phil could see it in his face, something was wrong. "You're not sick or anything, are you?"

"No, not physically anyway; sick at heart, maybe. I'm having some family problems that need to be addressed as soon as possible, that's all."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Adam. I wish I could give you the day off, but I don't have anyone else who could shoot this right now."

"I understand, Phil, just make sure you don't schedule anything else for me this week."

"You got it... and I hope things work out."

That Sunday, Adam had researched family law attorneys in the area. He had the numbers of three of them, and called at lunchtime. After going over some concerns with all three, he made a Thursday appointment with the one he liked the best.

He waited until the following Sunday to call Michelle.

She had sent him daily text messages reaffirming her love for him, but hadn't received any replies. When she saw his name on her phone, she knew what was coming. "Hello," she said, hesitantly.

"Hi, Michelle. I've gotten your text messages but they're not going to help. You broke your most sacred promise to me. Actions have consequences, Michelle. I don't have to tell you that. You knew the chance you were taking. You gambled with our happiness, at least mine anyway, and lost. How am I supposed to forgive that?"

"I'm so sorry, Adam," she whimpered.

"Anyway," he said, determined to maintain his resolve, "I wanted to give you a courtesy call. I saw an attorney and got the paperwork started for our divorce. I've got to go in next Tuesday and sign the papers, then he's going to file them in court on Wednesday. I'm not going to have you served, I'll just stop by on Saturday and give you your copies. You should probably get an attorney and have him look them over.

"Can... can we stay friends?"

"I don't know, Michelle," he said with a small sigh. "I guess we can try, but I'm going to need some time first. You... damn it, Michelle, you have no idea how badly you broke my heart. I feel like my soul has been ripped out. I don't know which way is up or down right now."

"I know," she replied with a small sob. "I... I know I keep saying I'm sorry and I know you don't want to hear it, but I don't know what else to say, Adam."

"Michelle, it's not that I don't want to hear it, it just doesn't change things. Two little words, no matter how sincerely they're spoken, are not going to make up for what you did." Hearing her sobs on the other end was just driving the stake deeper and deeper into his heart. He couldn't take it anymore. "I've got to go, Michelle. I'll see you on Saturday. I'll call before I come over." She was still crying when he disconnected.

All week she continued to send text messages saying she was sorry. Adam felt sorry for her. He knew she was hurting, but so was he and he wasn't about to give her a chance to do it again.

As promised by his attorney, the papers were ready on Tuesday. He used the rest of the week to look for an apartment and put a deposit down on one a little closer to work. Saturday, he called Michelle but got no answer so he left a message asking for a good time to stop by. He waited a couple of hours then tried again, still no answer. He decided to go out for lunch then drive by and see if she was home.

It was almost two o'clock when he got to the apartment complex and saw her car. She still hadn't called him back. Normally he would have wondered if she was sick or not feeling well, or possibly she was out shopping and just got home, but instead, the first thing that crossed his mind was another man. Did she have shithead up there with her... or someone else?

He parked his car and walked over to feel the hood of hers. It was cool. He looked around for Clay's Caddy but didn't see it. That didn't mean anything, though. There were a dozen places within a couple of blocks where he could park his car and walk over.

The thought that she might be entertaining had him boiling angry by the time he reached their apartment. He half expected her to answer the door in her robe if she answers at all.

He was somewhat relieved when she opened the door, fully clothed. "Hi, come on in, I still have some hot coffee left."

He followed as she turned and walked into the kitchen. "Are you alone?" he asked as he sat down at the kitchen table.

"Of course. My husband left me, who else would be here?"

"Well, I've been trying to get you all morning. I thought maybe you had someone over and didn't want to answer the phone."

"No, Adam, I don't have any lovers over if that what you mean," she replied in a snotty voice.

He didn't want to get into an argument. All he wanted to do was drop off the papers so he removed them from the envelope and pushed them across the table to her. "Here are the papers. They're pretty straightforward. The only thing we have to figure out is the apartment. We still have four months to go on the lease. It's too much for you to take on alone, so if you want to stay here, I'll pay for the next two months. That'll give you time to save up for the last two, and you can keep what you get back from the security deposit."

"I don't want a divorce, Adam," she said as she slid the papers back in his direction.

He noticed a resolve in her voice that wasn't there before. All she'd done in the past was apologize. "Michelle, you don't have to give your approval for the divorce to go through, but it would make things easier."

"That's just it, I don't want to make things easier. I'm going to make them as hard as I can and hope you'll find a way to get passed this.

"Michelle, do you know what my first thought was when I saw your car in the lot and you hadn't gotten back to me yet? It was that you must have someone in here, namely Clay."

"I don't care, Adam. I'm going to fight you on this, every step of the way."

"Michelle, you asked me last week if we can be friends after this. If..."

"I don't want a friend, Adam, I want my husband back," she stated, interrupting him.

"It's not going to happen, Michelle. Face it."

"I can't, Adam. If I don't fight as hard as I can, I'll never forgive myself."

There was no talking to her. He sighed, "Well, keep the papers in case you change your mind." With that, he got up and left. Once in the car, he shook his head with disappointment. The whole situation was tearing him apart. He just wanted to get it over with so he could get on with his life.

That's when he remembered his childhood. There were two major papers in Chicago. His wife worked for one, The Tribute was the other. As soon as he got back to his motel room, he called Laura, Clay's wife. After giving him her approval, he called and just barely made the deadline for Sunday's paper.

Monday, around noon, he got a call from an extremely irate Clay Bartlett. "What the fuck do you think you're doing? I'm going to sue your ass for every penny you've got!"

"Go ahead, asshole. I can see the headlines now. "'Brother of state assemblyman candidate sues broken-hearted husband after ruining his marriage.'" You know, I'll bet the ten o'clock news stations would even be interested in that."

Clay hadn't thought that far ahead. He simply flew into a rage when someone told him of the announcement. Adam was right, there was no way to put a good spin on the story if it ever came out. He had the paper right in front of him.

"I don't get it," he said. "It says, 'The former Mrs. Adam Rogers wishes to announce her engagement to Mr. Clayton Bartlett of Chicago. Mr. Bartlett is the brother of Terrence Bartlett, candidate for state councilman. Mrs. Rogers and Mr. Bartlett will take their wedding vows on a date to be announced as soon as their divorces are finalized.'

"It doesn't even make sense. We're not engaged nor do we intend on getting married. Why would they say that?"

"When I was a kid, my folks owned an antique shop. They had a big sign over the door as you walked in. "You break it, you buy it." You broke my marriage, asshole, now I'm going to make you pay. This is just the first installment."

"We'll see about that," Clay shouted before hanging up.

About twenty minutes later he got a second call. "Damn it, Adam, what are you up to? I have no intention of marrying Clay and you know it. Jesus, I'm getting calls from my folks and just about everyone we know, asking what this is all about."

"Just a little something to get the ball rolling—I hope. Clay's going to pay, Michelle, one way or another, he's going to pay. I'm hoping some bright reporter sees the announcement and gets curious. If it doesn't work, I'll think of something else."

"But, Adam, this is going to hurt me as well. The paper is already pissed at me and this isn't going to help."