Don't Look Back in Anger

It's been some time since I posted a story. That is because I have started several, but they have all petered out with me unable to find an ending. The idea for this one just came to me, and from there, the story just wrote itself. I hope it works.

Some people have commented on my location, but my location is unimportant. My stories are based in my head and the legal and social frameworks are what I need them to be to make the story interesting. I try to avoid geographical indications. The reason I write is to improve my style and I need to write to the audience, hence differences in the English. I am trying to avoid them.

Thanks again to my editor, kenjisato, he does a job which I greatly appreciate.

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It was the last place I wanted to be; in fact, if you offered me the gallows I might just have taken it. Where was I going? In to see my old employer, my old life and the inevitable confrontation with the woman who, I hoped, would soon be my ex-wife.

I'm Arney Potts (yes, they called me 'Potty' in school), and the woman in that building was named Cathy. She never took my surname after we married because she was called Johnston, and Johnston Industrial Chemicals was the biggest thing in this area for miles around. It was not only the biggest employer, but her father also picked the local politicians, ensured the judiciary made the right decisions, and kept everything running to his liking.

How did I, a kid from a middle-class town over a thousand miles away, with a middle-class upbringing and a daft nickname, end up in this rich and politically connected family. Simple, Cathy fell for me and I didn't have a hope in hell after that. Oh, and I had an amazing talent for process-flow engineering, which meant a business like Johnston's, could produce more outputs for the same inputs, reducing costs of production and boosting profits.

I started in Johnston's Research and Development department straight out of college, having achieved a master's degree in chemistry. My first job in the factory was to review a process the business had used for years to produce a weedkiller. They gave the job to every new employee in the R&D department to see how much of a mess they could make of it. Not only did I do a good job, they actually realised I had refined the formula slightly, increasing output by one percent. A small margin, but on a product that had a gross margin of five percent, it was a massive improvement. Mr Johnston fell in love with me immediately, and soon I was heavily involved in developing production formulas for Johnston's new product lines.

At that time, a young lady by the name of Cathy, had started in our department. Initially, we thought she was an intern, but she turned out to be the boss's daughter, learning the business from the ground up. As I said, she took a shine to me immediately, and before I knew what was happening, we were dating, then engaged, and finally married within three years of her walking into the department.

Cathy's family gifted us a house in a very good area, with plenty of land for her horses. We also had room for a 'large' family according to her mother, but neither of us was interested in that yet. By this time, Cathy was chief operating officer (COO) of the business, and doing a very good job. Only a couple of people knew I was married to the boss, and I was very happy to keep it that way.

For me, life changed about five years into our marriage. Cathy was promoted to chief executive officer (CEO), and her father semi-retired. Her working hours went up, but she also felt the need to 'press the flesh' with customers and some of the bigger investors who had stakes in the business. One of those was a venture capital (VC) fund that had taken a twenty-percent stake very early on, when Johnston's hit on its first great success and almost ran out of cash trying to meet demand.

Cathy's idea was to float the business on the stock exchange and the VC was looking forward to exiting the business and crystallising a massive profit on one of its oldest but most lucrative investments.

The first hint of trouble came at the first shareholders meeting. It was held over a weekend at a ski resort some five hundred miles out of town, so no one would see us. I went with Cathy, but would be excluded from the meetings. That wasn't an issue for me, because it was summer and the place also had a nice golf course, so I could play guilt-free golf and then have a great time in a big bed with my wife.

We arrived on the Friday night, and the plan was to have a dinner with the shareholders and their spouses as a meet-and-greet. The VC had appointed a new representative to the board, one who was on their disposal team. I straight-out disliked him. He was clearly a 'jock', who still fancied himself as something special. He came unattached and was way-too-over familiar with Cathy for my liking. She did brush him off, but not with the force I had seen her use on others who hit on her.

I was not pleased, and when we went to our room after dinner, I asked what the deal was. She said she knew him from college, that he was a ladies man, but they had never hooked up-- but she needed to stroke his ego to make sure he played ball when it came to the advisors in the float. She wanted to use the company advisors, but the VC could impose theirs, meaning they would screw the other investors.

I bought it, but knew this guy was a shark, and that he was trying to get into my fish pond.

The weekend was pleasant, I did play golf and Cathy and I made full use of the bedroom. And Cathy made sure the 'shark' was kept out of the fish pond. All in all, I was very happy.

Life continued as normal, well as normal as life could when a business is going through the excruciating process of listing itself on the stock market. Hours were long, mornings were early, and nights were late, and there was plenty of travel. I never worried, if there was a shareholder event where Mr. Shark (as I started to call him) was going to be there, then I was taken. If it was a meeting with advisors or the legal team, he was not there. Yes, he spent a lot of time in the office, but I trusted my wife and never had any problem with that, especially as her father was in every one of those meetings, as well.

It took eighteen long months to complete the process. During that time, neither Cathy nor I had a single day off, meaning we had several weeks of accrued holiday time. The deal was Cathy would remain as CEO, but a new deputy would be appointed to help take the strain.

It was about two weeks before the listing was to be completed when Cathy came home one night early. She looked exhausted and she just flopped down beside me and blurted out, "I'm done with this lifestyle. The deputy CEO is ready, I want to start a family after this shit is over. You and I will be financially secure for the rest of our lives; if we are going to do it, now is the time."

I was speechless. I had a feeling she was never going to find the right time, but here, out of nowhere, she had just decided. I just hugged her, and replied, "Okay, why don't we start on the night you and your dad ring the bell. That would be quite a party."

She sort of looked over my right shoulder, and said, "Yeah, why not?"

We both went to bed early that night, not to make love, because we were both exhausted, but just to hold each other.

The following Monday, several of the top managers, including me, as I was the head of process development within the R&D department, were called into the large conference room. Cathy did a presentation, telling us about the listing. As part of the process, we were all being offered new contracts of employment. Each of us was getting a significant raise, twenty percent in my case, but the contracts meant we could not resign for the next twenty-four months. Each of us was told we had to get independent legal advice before we signed.

After the main presentation, each employee had a private meeting with Cathy, except me. Again, as her husband, she had to get someone else to do it. In my case, it was the head of human resources (HR). She talked me through the new contract and indicated the importance of independent legal advice. Again, due to Cathy being my wife and the business having connections to nearly every attorney in the town, they suggested I get my advice from a firm outside of our location. Julie, the HR manager, gave me the business card of an employment attorney who she knew could help me. I took all the papers and left her office.

I phoned the attorney immediately after lunch. I emailed the new contract and it was agreed we would have a meeting in their office in two weeks. That would be the Monday before the listing on the Friday. That was technically after the final document was filed with Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC) saying I had signed, but what the hell, there was no way I wasn't signing the contract.

The weekend before the listing, we had a big family party in the Johnston's house. It was at the party that I learned two things. First, Mr. Johnston still retained all the family stock. I had been under the impression it was held in trust for the children, but no. Secondly, the party for the listing was flying to New York on Wednesday, on a private jet owned by the VC and that I was not invited. That was an unpleasant shock. It meant Cathy and Mr. Shark would be in a social setting with lots of adrenaline and alcohol, and I would not be there.

What was worse, was that it was clearly planned by Cathy. The little voice in the back of the head said, "Oh-oh, that should not be on the agenda."

It was obvious from the look Cathy gave her father that I was not meant to know at this stage. The whole thing was starting to look like a stitch-up.

I said nothing, but I didn't have to. I made my feelings perfectly clear to Cathy by the stare I gave her.

We arrived home that night around eight o'clock. I had driven to allow Cathy to have a drink. I had barely spoken to her since her father had made the announcement about the trip. She tried to initiate a conversation in the car, but I refused to engage.

Once home, I parked the car and walked into the house without a word. Cathy was slow getting out, as she had several things to bring in. When she arrived into the kitchen, I was sitting at the table and announced, "Cathy, sit down, I think we need to talk."

She visibly paled, then went to put her stuff on one of the kitchen worktops, before sitting in front of me, but clearly unable to look at me.

"Tell me," I began, "what is this about? You are going to New York for a party with the existing shareholders. Your mother is going with your dad, your sister is going with her husband and your brother is going with his wife, and they don't work in the business. But I'm not invited? Why hadn't you told me this little tidbit of information, especially considering your announcement not two weeks ago, about starting a family on that night. Something feels really fishy about this, and I want to know about it... now!"

Cathy was chewing her lip, a clear sign she was trying to conceal part of the truth. "I need you to stay here..."

"Bullshit!" I exclaimed. "You're hiding something and I want to know what it is."

"Okay. Okay," Cathy whispered. "I really didn't want to go into detail until Tuesday, but since you already have part of the story, I better tell you all of it. As you know, dad is holding onto the shares until the listing. He is then putting the funds from the sale into trust, where it will be invested and we will all receive an income. The funds will be protected for the grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He wants to make sure the family is provided for, for generations to come. That means we don't get the big windfall I was hoping for so we could retire early. So, I have done a deal with Ken."

I thought back and realised Ken was Mr. Shark.

She continued, "If you remember back to the first meeting, Ken agreed that we could use the company advisors. That saved us two-point-five million in fees, and he agreed I could get that amount as a consultancy fee, as long as I agreed to sleep with him on the night of the listing."

So there it was-- the fear that I had all along. This guy was a shark, but he was not in my fish pond-- my wife had willingly agreed to get into his, for money.

She saw the darkness coming over my face, so she proceeded quickly, "We also agreed on the deputy CEO so that you and I would have the financial security and the time to have a family. When I come back on Sunday, we can do all those things we planned, with time and financial security at our backs. By this time next year, we will be nursing our firstborn." She said this last part with a happy face.

It was then I realised she was living in a fantasy world.

"You are going to fuck another man for money-- that's prostitution, pure and simple. If you think I'm going to put up with that, you have another thing coming," I almost shouted. The only reason it didn't come out as a shout was because so much spittle came out of my mouth with the words.

The happy smile on Cathy's face dissolved into something much darker. "Prostitute!" exploded out of her mouth. "How dare you! I am doing something for you, me and our family-- to provide us with independent financial security. We invest this right, we can even retire in a couple of years. Yet, you act like a child, you're probably going to tell me I have cooties next!"

I laughed a humourless, possibly even malevolent laugh. Then I picked up my phone, and typed 'cootie' into the search engine. I repeated what it came back with. "Cooties are an imaginary germ or disease that can be caught by touching someone who is disliked."

I then asked the search engine for the definition of prostitute. "On the other hand, the definition of prostitute is a person who engages in sexual activity for money. Now tell me, do you have an imaginary disease or are you going to engage in sexual activity for money? I'll answer that-- it's the latter. So no, you don't have cooties, but you are turning yourself into a prostitute."

Cathy jumped out of her chair, standing with both hands on the table and leaning over me, she shouted, "I am doing this for us, can't you see that! If I don't do it, where will I find the time to have children, where will I find the time to be a good mother and a good wife? Tell me!"

I didn't look up at her, I just replied, while looking at the table, "If you do this, there won't be a family; if you do this, you won't be a good wife, you will be a prostitute and a divorcée."

I finally looked up at her, and said, "So one of three things is going to happen-- one, either we both go to this function, and I verify you are not cheating on me. From there, we go to counselling to work out how we put our marriage back together. Two, you don't go at all and we start discussing the trust issues I now have, and how we ensure this never happens again. Or three, you go on your own and I am not here when you get back. Which one is it?"

I could see red flaring on Cathy's neck from sheer anger, and she said, "None of the above. I will be going, and when I return on Sunday, we will start the process of having a baby. You forget, not only will I fight tooth-and-nail to keep our marriage together, but you have signed a new employment contract stopping you leaving your employment. So you have no choice but to stay."

I think my laugh caught her by surprise, when I added, "What new contract? You forget I had to get legal advice from outside the area because of our marriage. Net result is, I am meeting the attorney tomorrow. Naturally enough, I won't be signing any contract."

Her face visibly paled. It was then, I realised my contract had nothing to do with the listing, it was a backstop for this little tirade she was planning.

I continued, "So, I can assure you, if you leave without me, I won't be here when you get back. If you either take me or stay at home, there will be no children any time soon; you have a lot of work to do to rebuild my faith and trust in you and our marriage before I even contemplate children. Do I make myself clear?"

Cathy stood upright, the anger was still flaring on her face, but I could tell the adrenaline that had fueled the early party of the argument had stopped, and she was looking for an escape from me.

She just announced, "Arney, this is our future. One night and we have everything set for life. I will not let you destroy that future because of your ego. It's happening and you will be here when I get back. Don't fight me on this because you will lose and lose big. And I can see the question on your face-- yes, my father knows and he agrees that ultimately our own financial independence will be good for us. So put your ego on hold, and in a year you'll be a father."

With that, she turned and left the kitchen. I knew she was going to do it because she actually believed what she had just said. Time to plan my escape.

I sat at the kitchen table for a while, just staring at the table. I had no idea how long I sat there. All I wanted was to clear my head of every thought and every image of her lying on his bed, while he brought her to a climax. I needed it all to play out and disappear; I needed the anger of this to subside so I could act rationally. Leaving her was a given, divorce was essential, but getting a divorce in this town in which her father had influence could be very difficult if she fought it. I also needed a new job and that meant a new location. How far would I have to go?

I let the questions play in my head, but didn't look for answers. They would come as the anger faded and the pain kicked in. I started humming an Oasis song as I went up to one of the spare rooms to sleep. Locking the door behind me. Cathy had already gone to the master bedroom and closed the door. That suited me just fine.

I didn't go to work the next morning. I had the day off to visit the attorney on my new employment contract. I decided to go to the appointment, for two reasons. One, the long drive would give me time to think, and two, if I didn't go, the attorney would notify Johnston's HR department and that would tip my hand to Cathy and her father. If I went, they would think I was still intending to sign it and Cathy would have her two-year window that she obviously felt she needed to get me to forget her infidelity.

The whole day, and especially the drive, proved cathartic. The day started with coffee, sitting in the same seat in the kitchen, as I had used for the confrontation last night. Cathy came into the kitchen, poured herself coffee and put a bagel in the toaster.

Looking directly at me, she asked, "What are your plans for today?"

I didn't look at her. I was scared that if I looked at her, I would just see something ugly. I needed to keep my emotions under control if I was going to control the anger. I flatly said, "Going to Carson to meet the employment law attorney. I'll be away all day."

I didn't need to look because I could tell from the tone of her voice she was smiling. She thought she had won me over to her way of thinking. I suspected she thought I wasn't looking her in the eye because I was deferring to her as the dominant one, while in reality, I wasn't looking at her because if I did, I might completely lose it with her and I did not want that. I wanted this to play out and if it ended my marriage, so be it.

I spent the entire drive, singing to every song on the radio. By the time I arrived, I was actually in a good mood. The meeting with the attorney lasted two hours, and there were a few interesting points in the contract. Not only did the contract specify I had to stay for twenty-four months with the company, but during that time, I was required to remain at the same address, retain the same cell number and was effectively at the beck and call of the company CEO, which was, of course, my wife.

The most interesting part was the attorney said that, technically, it covered my personal life as well as work. He laughed at that, but I knew that part of it was planned and that the family had a compliant judge who would enforce it.

If I failed to stick to the conditions, I would lose everything but the clothes on my back. One of the most interesting things contained in an appendix to the main contract said I even had to give up the certificates for my qualifications, meaning I could not get a job anywhere else in the country.

At the end of the meeting, the attorney asked me to sign the contract. I had to spin something quickly, so I just said, "I better talk to my wife about that, you know she's the CEO, so I better get used to doing what she says!"

The attorney laughed, thinking this was hilarious, before adding, "You will need to get the signature witnessed, but the HR manager can do that. Hope you enjoy the increase in salary!"

The drive home was not as enjoyable as the drive there, but then, all the pieces would be in place for her plan. It appeared simple, too simple. Tie me down in a contract, which was probably unenforceable, but would keep me penniless until I could get her to court. In the meantime, she would try to get me to get her pregnant, meaning I would find it difficult to leave, and by the time the dust had settled, she hoped things would be back to normal.

So, my plan was simple, as well. I had to avoid signing the contract on Tuesday, and if she left on Wednesday morning, I would resign and move out, taking everything I needed, including my credentials to ensure I could get another job on a commensurate salary.

The question of where to go answered itself, when I stopped for a coffee halfway home. While buying the coffee, I saw a newspaper with an article about a new engineering business that opened in that town. I recognised the name and realised it was headquartered in a large industrial complex in a city several hundred miles away in another state. The city was much larger than where we currently lived, and there were several large and numerous small businesses that used industrial-flow processing for their production, and could therefore use my skills. I could easily get a job there. And just like that, the plan was set. I had all my bases covered; well, as best as I could until Wednesday.

I made a point of arriving home as late as possible. I needed to avoid the subject of the contract, and the lack of my signature on it. So I stopped about thirty miles from home to get some dinner. It was only four-thirty when I stopped, so I could have easily made it home. I hung around until five o'clock, then phoned Cathy, knowing she would be unlikely to answer the phone. Every Monday, she had an end-of-day meeting with the sales manager, to review last week's orders and compare them to forecasts to see which customers were up or down on expected demand. That enabled me to leave a message that I would not be home due to a delay on the road. I gave her a location which had no cell phone coverage, meaning I could switch my phone off and ignore her for a few hours. After leaving the message, I went to the cinema.

The film finished at eight, and I switched my cell off airplane mode and there were several messages from Cathy. I phoned her and her response was clearly one of irritation.

"Where are you?"

I smiled, a little battle won. "Just pulled into Marvik. The road was terrible, they were doing roadwork and must have messed up, the traffic was so slow I spent an hour sitting in the one place."

"Why didn't you call me?" she whined

"I did, but it went straight to voicemail. After that, I was stuck in that black hole where there is no coverage. I have only got it back. I am tired and hungry. I need to get some food and coffee, or I will be asleep at the wheel. I'll see you about ten-thirty".

I quickly hung up as I heard her asking about the contract and if it had been returned to the HR department.

I enjoyed dinner, rejecting several calls from Cathy as I ate. I then drove home slowly, eventually arriving home at eleven-fifteen PM.

Cathy was still up, and she looked a little pissed. She stated flatly, "You have been away a long time. I spoke to HR, why have you not returned the signed contract?"

I didn't even miss a beat, I just kept on walking, saying, "I'm too tired to think about the whole contract tonight. I will process it in the morning. Going to bed now,

goodnight."

I went straight up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, where I had been sleeping since Sunday night, locking the door behind me. Cathy was not far behind me and she tried to open the door, as I turned the look.

She banged on the door, and shouted, "You sleeping in the guest room is starting to get old!"

I just said, "Goodnight Cathy, we will discuss it on Wednesday." If she picked up on what I had said, she didn't acknowledge it.

She did shout, "Oh for god's sake!" then stormed to the master bedroom, slamming the door as she went.

Sleep is a funny thing. Sometimes, it comes and other times, it doesn't. This night, I was tired but it wouldn't come.

My mind was racing with what-ifs-- what if she goes? what if she doesn't? what if someone comes to the house and tries to stop me leaving? What do I need to leave with? What happens if I take the car, as it technically belongs to her? How long will it take me to pack...?

The list was endless, and I needed to start planning. Two old adages came to mind. 'Hope for the best and be prepared for the worst.' Well, the best was her not going; the worst was her leaving without me. And the second old saying was the 7 Ps-- 'Proper Planning and Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance! Well, the next day, I was going to have to plan for a military operation because once my resignation hit the desk of the HR manager, I suspected there was going to be a lot of shit hitting the fan.

The next morning over coffee, in the kitchen, Cathy asked, "Do you want me to take the signed contract into the office?"

Deciding it was a good time to get the fight going, I just said, "Why would I want you to do that?"

"Well," she stammered, slightly taken aback by my tone and my question. "You are not in the main office today, and I thought you would want it in as soon as possible."

"No thanks, I have a lot to think about first. Anyone would think you were trying to pressure me into something which is very much against my interests, and you are hoping I'm too stupid to think about it." I said this, while looking her straight in the face. My gaze was neither pleasant nor loving.

She rapidly looked away, before adding, "Okay, you do what you need to, but we need it in place before Friday."

First job done. She would not pressure me into signing the contract, knowing I would use it as leverage against her. I could read my wife like a book when I put my mind to it. With that exchange, a rather deflated Cathy left the house for work, leaving me drinking coffee at the kitchen table.

Knowing I was not expected into the office on Tuesday gave me a full day to work on my exit strategy. First issue was the car. A quick check of the registration, and sure enough, it was in her name, not mine. That meant not only could she track it, but I could be hauled back here on a charge of theft and from there, I would have two choices-- stay at this house, or the county jail. To be honest, both sounded unpleasant.

Next, was my stuff. I had clothes, shoes, computers, other electronic gear and papers including tax returns, qualifications and credentials for my ability to work. Finally, there was the money. We both had separate accounts for savings and investments. When we married, we had a prenup that separated our finances. I had a pension and an investment account. Her dad and the company paid into both, so I had a pension that was okay, but a personal investment account of over 250 thousand dollars. It was for our retirement, but the prenup gave me full control over this. I knew Cathy's was worth over a million dollars, but I didn't want or need any of it. I suspected it was done like that in case of a divorce, so I could not lay claim to her share of family funds.

I went to the safe and pulled out my documents. It had everything from my passport right up to my copy of the prenup. I quickly scan-read it and confirmed my control of the investment account, as well as noting that any business assets were outside the scope of the marital assets, even if the business was started during the marriage.

Another point in the prenup that was very interesting, stated that any assets acquired after the date of separation, but before any divorce, would not count towards marital assets. The date of separation was defined as the date on which either party left the marital home with the expressed intention of not returning. Certain actions were considered to indicate that intention, including leaving the employment of Johnston's; taking all personal items, especially clothing, from the marital home; moving more than forty miles; and living in a different property for a period of five years or more. Also the party leaving could post a letter to the marital home, which would contain a proof of posting date and the separation would commence from that date.

The last part of the prenup was also important. If either party filed for divorce within a five-year period, the other party could employ a range of tactics to fight the divorce, including forcing the other party to return to employment in Johnston's, marriage counselling, and even forcing them back into the marital home. Any sexual relationship outside the marriage during the divorce proceedings would be grounds for the forfeiture of all investments. Interestingly, if there were no divorce proceedings, none of these stipulations applied. During the five-year period, the divorce had to be applied for in the court in our local town, but after that period, it could be applied for anywhere for 'irreconcilable differences', but not adultery, and the other party could not fight it.

The next clause was also important. It stated that the five-year clock would restart if the party that left the marriage attempted to reach out to the other party with a view to attempt a reconciliation. The actual act of reconciliation was not important, only the attempt.

The last clause on the prenup was essential. It stated it was signed in front of a judge, which it was, under our own free will, and that both parties agreed to abide fully by its terms and not apply to the court to have it nullified or partly voided in any way.

I found an old briefcase and placed all the documents into it, then placed the briefcase in the back of the garage. Next, I went online to the bank, and transferred the contents of my checking, savings and investment accounts held in a local bank, into my old account which was held in a bank that was out of state. I did not want any attempt to freeze my accounts.

Next was a vehicle I could call my own. I drove back to Marvic, and in a secondhand lot, found a pickup that fitted what I needed. Not very expensive, easy to insure, and it had all its registrations up to date. As long as I got the insurance done properly, I could pay for it and drive it off the lot within minutes. I put down a non-refundable deposit of five hundred dollars.

Finally, I needed a bolt hole, in case things went pear-shaped later or the next day. I reckoned I could handle that night, but if I failed to turn up to work the next day, my guess was I would have office security at the door, looking for me. I didn't want that, so I needed to be away, preferably very early in the morning the next day.

Having finished everything, I went to Target and purchased three large travel bags and returned home. All the papers were already in the garage, so I packed my clothes, shoes, and other personal items. I made a point of being as tidy as possible. I didn't want Cathy noticing what I had moved. It was actually easier than it sounded, as I always was quite tidy, so all I had to do was to make sure all the empty drawers and cupboards were tightly closed. I carried everything out to the garage, placing the bags in the back, where they could not be seen. All that was left was my personal laptop and iPad. I was not going to take my cell phone because it belonged to the company, and I wanted a new number that no one around her knew.

First, I typed the separation letter, printed it off, and signed it. Then I printed an envelope, addressing it to Cathy at this address, then packed the laptop and iPad into the carrying bag I used when I took them off-site and left them sitting on the desk. Cathy might notice they were packed up, but would not consider it unusual. I placed the envelope in the bag, as well. With preparations done, I would be able to leave the house in short order.

Cathy came home at around six o'clock, which was very early for her. She was clearly in a good mood, but was also showing a few nerves; like she was determined to do something, but was still unsure of the outcome.

When she came inside, her first question was, "HR said you didn't return the contract yet."

So, she was checking up on me. Was this derailing her game plan or was she going to brazen it out?

"Nope, not signed yet. As I said last night, I will sign it in your presence tomorrow night."

There it was-- I laid it straight on the line. Would she pick up the hidden message? It was clear I would sign it in her presence tomorrow, but if she was not there, then the clear implication was I would not sign it.

She missed it, or she pretended to miss it. "You know we fly to New York tomorrow, so you will have to sign it in the office. The HR manager will be in your office at nine AM to collect it."

I didn't say anything; I just walked out of the kitchen and up to the guest room. She apparently was going, and she thought I had no choice.

About an hour later, she tried the door. It was locked. She banged on the door, and said, "Dinner's ready."

I didn't respond, nor move.

Five minutes later, she messaged me, saying, 'dinners getting cold'

Again, I ignored it.

Eventually, she came back up the stairs, and shouted, "What is wrong with you! I'm getting fed up with this. Your dinner's in the oven, if you are too childish to sleep in our bed, will you at least have the decency to wish me well on the biggest adventure of my life."

Did she honestly understand what she said? She obviously meant going to the stock exchange and ringing the bell, but in my mind, it was going to have sex with Ken, the Shark. If she had wanted to find a better way to kill the vestiges of love I had left for her, it would have been a hard push.

I lay in bed and listened as she went to the storage room and obviously retrieved a suitcase, then went into the master bedroom, which had a dressing room with all her clothes in it, and began to pack. I felt a single tear run down my cheek as I realised I was listening to the final act of our marriage and what was worse, she didn't even recognise it.

I turned the light and TV off and got into bed, but once again, sleep eluded me for most of the night.

I heard Cathy up early the next morning and decided I might as well say goodbye for the last time; certainly for the last time as husband and wife. When I entered the kitchen, I nearly fell over her large suitcase.

I looked at it, and then at her, before quietly stating, "I see you chose option three. That's a shame, we could have been good together. Oh well, not meant to be. I hope you have many happy memories from your trip."

She walked over to me with her arms held out, and said, "Oh come, my little soldier, in a few days we will be making babies and our life will be long and fulfilling."

I stepped behind her suitcase meaning she could not reach me, and responded, "It saddens me to think you have such little respect for me, that you think I can accept something like this. There will be no future, no babies and no long life into the future. I hope you find happiness with your money, because there will be none in it for me. Goodbye Cathy, I did love you, but I think this little display of disrespect and humiliation has successfully killed it. Enjoy your weekend and the rest of your life."

I quickly turned and headed up the stairs to the guest room. A rapid change and back down the stairs, collecting the car keys as I passed the rack on which they were kept. Cathy was on the phone as I entered the kitchen.

I heard her say, "He's here now," then she handed me the phone, saying, "Dad wants to speak to you."

I just looked at the phone, and without a word, walked out and drove away. I figured I had about fifteen minutes until all hell broke loose. I was wrong by five minutes. I had parked in an unused lot on a side road near the house, and returned to a vantage point in another lot to watch the comings and goings.

Her dad arrived first, followed rapidly by another car, which was driven by the HR manager. I suspected my cell was ringing off the hook, but I had left it on silent in the guest bathroom. Constantly ringing me would stop them sending out a search party. I walked to the bus stop and took a bus to Marvik. I completed the purchase of the truck and started the insurance, using a disposable cell phone I had bought the day before. Less than fifteen minutes after arriving, I had driven off the lot.

I drove back home and dialed into the home security system to see whose car was at the house. Only the HR manager's. So I guess they went to New York after all.

The house had a main entrance, but on the land, there was a back entrance, only accessible by a tractor or four-wheel-drive vehicle. My new truck had four wheel drive, so I entered that way. I was able to get close to the house without being seen. From there, I entered the garage, lifting all my clothes and documents. I wanted the laptop, but it was not essential, as everything was sorted on the cloud. I checked around the house. The HR manager and one of the security team were in the kitchen. I entered the house through a side door into the office, picked up the laptop bag and exited. I think they heard me, but did not actively check as, as far as they were concerned, no one had come into the yard, so no one was in the house.

I exited the property the way I came in and turned southwest, heading to my new home having first posted the letter to Cathy and ensuring I had all the proof of posting I needed. That way, the five-year clock was up and running. After posting the letter, I used the laptop to log on to my work email and sent a letter of resignation to the HR manager, along with a request to use all my accrued holidays to cover my notice period.

It took me three days to drive to my new location. Along the way, I stopped and did some research. First, I looked for a property. I made one call to a real estate agent who had a fully furnished one-bedroom apartment ready to go. I knew the area from past visits and said yes immediately. Several taps on the computer, and I had the deposit and first month's rent paid. The keys would be ready to pick up at the security desk in the complex upon arrival.

The next step was a job. The first night, I trawled the local employment agencies and company websites, but found nothing that was suitable for me. Quite by accident, I found a website for a local business looking for contractors to do fixed-term contracts or provide consultancy on specific projects. I saw four that looked ideal for me. I could not complete the site registration until I had a new cell number. I wanted a local one, not the disposable one I had purchased, so I waited until I arrived before completing the registration and submitting the applications.

Surprisingly, I actually won three of the four tenders and Potts Process Flow Consultancy was born. I had more than enough work to keep me going for a year, so I rented an office and hired a secretary. Within three months, I had employed another process-flow engineer. We were getting work from chemical businesses, food processors, and even a few manufacturing and engineering plants, who could see how our talents could be used to improve their production techniques.

I decided after twelve months that there was a good chance Cathy knew where I was. Johnston's used a PI firm to check out new employees, new suppliers and new customers to ensure they didn't have any hidden agendas (after all, fertiliser is very good at growing crops, but with a bit of knowhow can also be made to go boom in a very unpleasant way) so it would not be a big ask to get them to look into an old employee.

I still used the website to obtain work and noticed a couple of adverts that clearly had been written for me. In fact, one in particular could have said, "Arney apply here." So I was certain my location and activities were well known by Cathy. That meant I might as well move to the next phase, divorce.

I found a law firm in my town who dealt with family law and made an appointment, sending all the paperwork by email before the appointment, allowed everyone to be prepared. The first meeting went as well as could be expected. The attorney's first question was a surprise though.

"Are you in a relationship with anyone?"

Then I thought back to the prenup and remembered the no-sex clause during a divorce. "No," was the simple reply. "I am too busy building my business and the emotional stress of my wife's actions is still too raw."

"Good," replied the attorney, "you need to keep it that way if we start proceedings. Okay, I have done a bit of digging and this is going to be difficult. Firstly, the prenup is iron-clad. Your wife is considerably more wealthy than you, but you don't want anything from her and your business is outside the marital assets as it was started after the separation date. Sending that letter is a godsend for that. You are not in a new relationship and there are no children, so there is no haggling over assets.

"The problem is, the five-year period is very much in force. As a result we have to file in the court there. I have spoken to a couple of friends in the area and no one will take on your case because they don't want to go against the Johnston family. One friend told me the word has gone out that they will fight tooth-and-nail and the requirements in the prenup will be enforced to make you come back, live in the house and a very long period of marriage counselling will be asked for.

"Under normal circumstances, a judge would throw that request out, but these aren't normal circumstances. The judge is not just a family friend of the Johnston's, she owes her position to them, so what they ask for they will get. If I were you, I would keep going as you are. After the five-year period has expired, the terms of the prenup are over and you can file for divorce in this town. We can then get a judge who will apply the law as it should be applied.

"Now, the key part is making sure we stick rigidly to the terms of the prenup. If we don't file, then the relationship clause does not activate, but we do have a problem with the 'reconciliation' clause. You must try and avoid initiation any contact with the Johnstons, even on a business level. The clause is drawn so widely they could get their friendly judge to enforce a new five-year clock, and a judge here would be forced to live by the ruling. If you can't avoid business contacts, you must notify me immediately and we work out a strategy to keep you safe."

Divorce was off the table, but ultimately, the marriage was only a piece of paper and I had no intention of remarrying in the foreseeable future. The fact was I was enjoying life. I had made some good friends, I was loving being my own boss and I had been able to take up golf again. I wasn't celibate, but if I applied for a divorce, I would have to become celibate. So applying for a divorce would have been more hassle than it was worth.

I was still enjoying my life as a single man and the fifth anniversary of my separation was approaching. I had been to the attorney's again and was ready to commence divorce proceedings as soon as practicable. Cathy had made several attempts to contact me over the last couple of years. She had phoned the office, sent emails and letters and even turned up at my door. Any written correspondence had been sent to my attorney, unopened. Emails were extracted from my computer by my IT manager and held in quarantine, again unopened. Phone calls were logged and ignored. On the one occasion she turned up, I called my attorney and he came to my house asking her to leave. She refused, but the attorney threatened a restraining order and publicity. Being the CEO of a public company and getting a restraining order for stalking was not going to look good, so discretion was the better part of valor and she left. Thankfully, she only tried it once.

On a business level, we received a request to tender for work every few months, either directly or through the website, that was clearly from Johnston's. We logged the requests, notified the attorney and filed the request in the 'B one N' file!! (The BIN) That worked right up until that day.

Johnston's were using the contractor site more and more, to the extent it accounted for twenty percent of their business. Then one day, the owner of the site phoned me. "Arney, I have a problem." We had become friends over the last few years, and I had told him the story of my wife over several beers a few years back.

"What's the problem, Mac?" I asked, knowing it was a superfluous question as he was going to tell me anyway.

"I have a request for a tender from Johnston's, and it has been written in such a way that only you can win it. I know they have done this before, and you just don't tender, but this time, I received a call from a gentleman, who identified himself as Mr. Johnston. He says that if you don't apply, they will pull all the work from my website and set up in competition."

I knew Mac was pleading for me to apply, without asking. His site was excellent and supported a number of businesses, including mine, in the area. So, I was going to have to help him.

"Okay, Mac, I will do it, but I need you to help me. I will phone my attorney and we will work out how to do it without disrupting my timeline for divorce," I responded.

Two days later, we were sitting in my attorney's office, where Mac completed an affidavit regarding the pressure he was put under to make me complete the application. After Mac left, we discussed a plan of action and how to make it work.

Upon returning to the office, I completed the tender. The amount of work was quite small and we estimated that five thousand dollars would be our normal fee for time, travel and expenses. Considering I had three tenders for over a million each, this work was actually more hassle than it was worth, so I added a zero to the tender and sent it in. Part of the tender required us to nominate the individuals who would do the work. By this stage, I had thirty people working for me. One of them was just out of college, but he was very good so we nominated him to do the work.

Three days after the quote went in, I received a call from Mac. "Arney, Johnston's just called, they want to set up a meeting in their factory, but they will only accept you to undertake the work. The same conditions apply, if you don't go they pull all the work from the site."

Taking a deep sigh, I responded, "Okay, let's talk to my attorney again and work out how to do it. But tell Johnston's I own and manage the business, I don't do client work anymore so they need to sign a waiver that if I get it wrong, it is at their expense."

A telephone conference took place that afternoon with Mac, my attorney, and me. Again, Mac completed an affidavit. From there, the attorney and I agreed upon the game plan.

First was a filing to our local court, confirming that the request for this meeting, as made by Johnston's, was for business purposes and at their insistence, not mine. Any personal interaction between Cathy and I would be purely incidental, and that any attempts at reconciliation would not be from me. This application was purely lodging a pre-emptive statement of fact in the court, but would ensure the five-year clock could not be restarted due to this meeting. My attorney was convinced this was an attempt by my wife to restart that five-year clock.

So with all my ducks in a row, I entered the offices of Johnston's, feeling like Daniel being led to the lion's den. As I entered the main door, the receptionist called me over "Mr. Potts." Clearly, she remembered me, but I could not remember her. "Mr. Potts, we have your pass. Mrs. Potts is waiting for you in the small conference room. I'm sure you know your way."

In all the years we were married, she never took my name. It never annoyed me, but hearing her now as Mrs. Potts, when we were so close to divorce, infuriated me. I had to try and hide it, but I still snapped at the receptionist.

"I may know my way, but I am a visitor in this office and I expect to be escorted like every other visitor. So I will sit over there, until someone comes and takes me to the correct location." With steam coming out of my ears I went and sat, ensuring I had my back to the receptionist.

She did not deserve to be the brunt of my anger, but she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and I was damned if I was going to let Cathy treat me like I was one of her employees being summoned to the CEO for an audience.

Five minutes later, I had got myself under control. Just in time to hear someone calling, "Arney, Arney." I looked around to see Cathy's PA standing by the elevator.

Collecting all my stuff, I walked over to her, and said, "Hi Angela, how you been keeping?"

"OH very good, Mrs. Potts has been in the best mood I've seen her in years. I think she is so excited to see you. I hope you two can mend things, you were so good together." Angela was practically giggling, as she completed the last sentence.

All the worst fears about this meeting had been confirmed. I casually asked, "Are we in the small conference room and who is with Cathy?"

Angela looked slightly distant, saying, "Not one-hundred-percent sure, her father is there, we don't see him very often now. I think there is another guy there who I don't know but see around the office from time to time. I think he might be the family personal attorney and HR are on standby."

Her dad being there was expected. The personal attorney was probably George Wilson, he drafted the original prenup and acted in all of the family's personal matters. HR being on standby was an interesting development. Was I being hit with something?

As we arrived at the conference room, Angela tried to divert, saying, "You go on in, they are expecting you."

But I refused. "No, Angela. Please announce me, like you would any visitor. I am here on business. I'm an ex-employee and Cathy and I are not together anymore, so this is not a personal call."

Angela looked at me as if I had two heads, then said, "That's going to be news to Cathy. This has been booked out as personal time with the recorders switched off. We were all excited because you were so great together; we thought this was the start of a reconciliation."

"Nope, not a chance. So please, Angela, announce me as you would announce any visitor," I corrected her.

Angela knocked on the door and opened it, saying, "Mr. Potts is here to see you."

I could see Cathy through the door and she was clearly unhappy at Angela announcing me, as if I was a stranger. Cathy's father was sitting with his back to the door and I could see George Wilson sitting on Cathy's left. He had a rather large file in front of him; a file that, if it was about me, was too large for my liking.

I entered the room, but stood, waiting to be offered a seat. I had every intention of keeping this meeting in the business arena for as long as possible. I had no desire to enter into personal matters.

"HI Arney, it's lovely to see you," Cathy started. P

I deliberately didn't respond; waiting for her to invite me to sit. This was a bit of a calculated risk. By waiting, I could give her the initiative in the business sphere, like I was deferring to her, but in the personal sphere, I was making it very clear that we were strangers, not husband and wife. Cathy knew what I was doing and there was a hint of irritation on her face, but she controlled it well. She had been expecting this display of distance which meant she had a game plan to fight it. This meeting was going to be arduous!

She swung her arm in an open arc, clearly not indicating anywhere in particular, and said, "Why don't you sit, we have a lot to discuss." As she finished, she picked up a coffee pot that was sitting on the table beside her and poured a coffee, added a single sugar and handed it over to me.

Although that was how I still took my coffee, I needed to score a point, and said, "I don't take sugar in my coffee anymore, could I have one without."

Again, the flash of irritation. I was making a point that we had not been together in a long time and she no longer knew me like she thought. This clearly rankled a lot more than not sitting. One nil for me!

The coffee was bitter without sugar, but I actually liked it more than I thought. Point to self, stop putting sugar in your coffee. As I was thinking this, Cathy was rabbiting on. I tuned back in as she said, "It's been a long time, Arney, how have you been doing?"

"Fine thanks, now can we get down to business, I don't have much time as I have a long drive back tonight," I responded, in a tone that carried no personal emotion.

"I thought you would have been staying a couple of days to complete the work, considering the size of the fee and the importance of our clientele. And I was hoping we could take some personal time while you were here, we have a lot to discuss if we are going to get our marriage back on track." Her voice was cracking with emotion, as she said it.

"Ms. Johnston--" I started, but she interrupted.

"Arney, it's me, Cathy, and after the listing, I started using Potts to confirm the importance of our marriage."

I blankly stared at her and continued, as if she hadn't spoken.

"Mrs. Potts, I employ thirty people, my business is one of the biggest consultancy firms in this sector in the county. This contract will make up less than one percent of my turnover this financial year. I do not do any client work; my day is taken up managing my employees who do that work and the other aspects of running a business.

"I am here because I was given no choice due to the pressure applied within one of my sales channels. Once we have finished this meeting, we will either sign the contract and one of my employees will come and do the work, or we won't sign the contract. Either way, at the end of this meeting, I will leave for my home. But whichever way this goes, it is taking up time I could be putting to more profitable use and sitting around 'shooting the breeze' with you is a waste of my time."

Her father interrupted with a clear edge to his voice. I listened to what he said, but watched as Cathy dabbed the corner of her eye.

"Now listen here, Arney, we went to great lengths to get you here. Cathy wants-- no, needs to talk to you and you need to listen. You need to grasp what happened and when you two reconcile, we will buy your consultancy firm and you will be appointed vice president in charge of research and development. So now you know how big this can be, let's cut the BS and start talking about what really matters, yours and Cathy's marriage."

I slowly turned my head, responding to him directly with a similar edge to my voice. "Mr. Johnston, your daughter and I don't have a marriage except on paper, and in one month, I will be free to rectify that. She left me the morning she walked out of what was then our house to fly off and to fu--" I stopped myself saying the word, took a breath, and restarted, "Have sex with another man."

Cathy tried to interrupt. I guessed what she was going to say but I didn't give her space to say it.

"And if she is now going to claim she didn't have sex with him, I don't believe her."

With that, I swivelled my head back to face Cathy. "And to be honest, it doesn't matter either way. She knew my feelings on the subject and she went off with the intention of doing it. She could have stopped it when she realised how serious I was. That means she didn't respect me when she thought she could get away with it, and it means I can never trust her. So not only will there be no reconciliation, I don't want one."

The room fell silent, until George piped up, "But, Arney, you are both lonely, you had a great marriage with money, time and space to have a large family."

He flicked open the file and I could see at the top there was a report with the PI firm's logo on it.

"You have no one in your life to share it with; yes, your business is doing well, but you work long hours and you live in a small apartment by yourself. The offer on the table would pay you more than you currently earn and you could return to your house that Cathy currently lives in alone."

I looked at him as if he had two heads. "Basically, you want me to go and have sex with a woman I no longer love for money. Cathy and I had this conversation five years ago, that's prostitution. Not going to happen."

Mr. Johnston nearly choked on his coffee and was about to start, when a very tearful Cathy interrupted him, by saying, "Don't, dad, he needs to get it out of his system.

"Arney, you need to know I did not sleep with Ken; in fact, I didn't even go to New York. As soon as you left, I phoned dad and he came to the house. Shortly after, a few people came over to watch the house and dad took me home to their house. I realised the magnitude of what I had proposed and what it would cost me. I tried and tried to call you, but I later found your phone in the guest bathroom. You never received any of my calls. Mum and dad went to New York and dad rang the bell on his own. I, eventually, went back to our home and discovered you had moved out. The next day, we found your car parked in a lot around the corner.

"It took the PI three months to find you. They only found you by accident because you had gotten a parking ticket and your name came up in court records."

Damn, I remember that. It was a stupid ticket to get because I parked at an angle with one back wheel in a hydrant zone! All my attempts to stay hidden foiled by a single tire. Oh well, never mind!

"I tried to call you at your new office, but the receptionist just cut me off. I wrote letters explaining everything, but they were returned unopened with an attorney's letter. We did meet once when I came to your apartment, but your attorney was very unpleasant to me and I could not risk the restraining order. So as you appear to have guessed, the idea of making you apply for this tender came up and now you are here so we can talk." She hadn't taken a breath through this whole monologue; she stopped for one.

I was not sure if she wanted me to speak, but I did not take her up on the chance to interrupt. I wanted her to get everything out, so I could leave as quickly as possible.

She pointed at George and continued. "We know you have a copy of the prenup. We even know you scouted around for an attorney to file for divorce, but could not find one or understood just how much I would fight to stop it. Now, we are approaching the five-year mark, and I am reaching out to you as I want us back. I told you five years ago, I wanted to have your children. I am still desperate to do that. I have not been with anyone, especially not with Ken since we met, never mind since we split. Please come back, take up the offer and work here again, and make me your wife and the mother of your children."

I stared blankly at her, then clapped. The act was rude and impulsive, but ultimately, I needed her and her family to understand that we were over. The more I looked at her and listened to her pleading, the more I realised my love for her had died a long time ago. Time had not made my heart grow fonder, it had made it grow indifferent.

"Cathy, we are finished. We were finished when I tripped up over your suitcase that morning. If I had not left, you would have slept with that guy and you were doing it for money. I can't live with someone who even thought that was remotely acceptable. My love for you has gone, my desire to be with you has gone, and I don't want to have children with you. I want us to go our separate ways and build our lives apart."

My sarcastic display had riled up George, and the sobs emanated from Cathy after what I said were making him more so. "Will you look at what you have done to this poor girl. Let me tell you, we are going to apply to the court to claim this is an attempt at reconciliation. Then we will apply for counselling with you moving back here to partake."

I smiled, with no warmth in it, and said, "Do your worst, George. Firstly, this is a business meeting, all the correspondence proves that. Your correspondence was for a meeting with Mr. Johnston, Cathy being here is only incidental to that meeting. Second, not even your favourite judge will enforce counselling because the prenup, which we all agree is in force, states that counselling can only be enforced during divorce proceedings and by the defendant in those proceedings.

"Lastly, the five-year window ends next month for that. Sure, you can apply to extend the five-year period, but knock yourself out. My attorney reckons we have enough to stop it and even if you are successful, all you will do is prolong the agony for both Cathy and me. I will not be moving back and I will not petition for a divorce, so both of us will remain in limbo unable to move on.

"If Cathy wants a family, she needs to find a new husband and she can't do that if she refuses to give me up. I won't be looking for a new wife until I am shot of the baggage associated with the farce this has become. So, George, if you are acting in the best interest of your client, tell her to let it go. I am never coming back and she needs to stop looking back at what we had. It's gone, she needs to look forward for something new.

"Now, is there any business deal here or not, because if the answer is no, I want to leave now and I don't want to come back."

Cathy just said, "No deal, please go. I can't bear this anymore."

I stood, nodded to George and turned to her father, and said, "Goodbye Mr. Johnston, can't say it was a pleasure to see you this time."

I walked out of the conference room and headed for the elevator.

Angela raced to catch up, and entered. "So, will we be seeing more of you?" she asked.

"Nope, this should be it for me," I responded.

The intake of breath showed this was not the answer she had expected.

I exited the elevator, saying goodbye to a silent Angela, and threw my pass onto the reception desk. I noticed it was an employee pass not a visitor's pass.

The drive home was somber, taking me two days with a stop in a rather unpleasant motel along the road.

A week later, my attorney received a letter from George. The letter requested that I not file for divorce at the end of the five-year period, but instead, asked that I agree to attend counselling, in my new town, with a view to reconciliation. The letter stated that Cathy had never stepped outside the marriage, and the only party to do so was me. Apparently, the PI was making regular visits to town to see what I was up to. Cathy, apparently, was prepared to overlook my infidelity.

The letter also suggested that we jointly apply for a five-year extension to the prenup, to allow time to heal the wounds in the marriage.

My attorney laughed, and said, "At least they know they can't enforce that extension."

Also included in the letter was an envelope addressed to me from Cathy.

I really didn't care. Yes, I had technically been unfaithful to Cathy, but I was now in a relationship that had potential. Cathy had been brutal with me and nothing more so when she left the suitcase in the kitchen that morning, knowing it was signaling her intention to humiliate me. I saw no reason to keep my life on hold, and certainly no prospect of reconciliation.

My response to Cathy came six weeks later, when she was served with divorce papers for irreconcilable differences, and contained in the papers was her letter to me, unopened.

That day, I was sitting in the office working on a new proposal when the receptionist rang to say a woman was on the line for me, but she was crying so hard she could not make out who it was. I took the call knowing it was Cathy.

As soon as I answered, I heard her through the tears, "Is this it, are you not willing to try to reconcile with me?"

"Sorry, Cathy, I did try five years ago, but you rejected my efforts. Our time has come and gone--"

She hung up before I finished, the sobs getting even louder than they were before.

A week later, my attorney received the signed divorce papers.

* * *

My life now stretches out in front of me. I have a new woman in my life; where will it go? Let's see.

I have never looked back in anger at my decisions with Cathy, either to marry, to separate, or to divorce. They had been all the right decisions at the time. So now, it is time to just move on and make the most of what life has to offer.

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