The Desperate Struggle To Reconcile Ch 03

That evening, I arrived home at about 5pm. I heard the TV on in the guest room, so I knocked and told her I would be ordering something and asked if she had any preferences. She opened the door, handed me a menu from one of the restaurants we used, pointed to the menu item she had circled, and then closed the door, all without saying a word. I went into the dining room, poured myself a whiskey, sat down and put the diner order in. I then spent a minute contemplating the liquid amber in my tumbler.

Then Derek called. He had tracked Linda's vehicle from the time I left the vehicle with her. Five minutes after I left, she left. Our tracker told us where we went, and Derek sent one of his associates to check it out. His report told us it was a dive bar. Derek's man went in, dressed in in a construction worker's outfit. He ordered a beer and sat in a corner trying to watch what was happening without being obvious. In just a few minutes, someone came in, nodded at the bartender, the two proceed to a back room, then came out in less than 30 seconds, then the customer returned to his car and sat there for all of five minutes when "someone" came up to him, handed him something. They both then left, the customer in his car, the "someone" towards the back side of the bar. This process repeated itself several times while Derek's man nursed his beer.

The place was selling drugs.

Derek told me not to tell her what I knew, we can't have her figuring out we had trackers in her car (and on her phone). I assured him I would not.

Half an hour later the food arrived. I placed Linda's meal on a tray, set it in front of the door, knocked and said the food had arrived. I then told her she could eat with me or in her room. She didn't answer.

I returned to the dining room, I heard the door open, the tray was picked up and the door closed. I then went ahead and ate my meal. After finishing and nursing my whiskey a little longer, I stood up, downed my drink, went and poured me a second drink, then poured a rum and coke for Linda, and went over and knocked on her door.

"Can we talk?" I said in as quiet and non-threatening voice that I could manage.

She opened the door. With her note pad in her hand, she took the offered Rum and Coke, and she led us to the dining room table. I sat opposite her and pulled out a file.

Surprisingly, as soon as she sat down, she started off talking. "First, I need $5000 deposited into my personal checking account every month. I need all the security cameras removed. I need you to transfer to me title to my car. And I get the Master Bedroom, you can have the guest room. I also want the right to entertain guests, at which point you shall either stay out, or stay confined to the guest room."

My response, "that's impressive. You thought that my actions this weekend was an effort to seize control for this negotiation? Well, if that had been the case, this response would have been a very effective, and I applaud you for your cleverness in taking such a bold step. Unfortunately, this weekend was not about a negotiating advantage. I merely wanted you to see what the consequences could be for your conduct. To be completely honest, I have been in pain since I realized your love for me had been lost, and I had a need to have you taste some of that pain. Now that has nothing to do with the pain I see you have suffered from losing Kyle. That does not come from me, your toad is a loser and you picked him. All I did was speed up your realization that your Prince was truly a toad, but you were always going to find out he was a toad."

Talking about Kyle caused Linda to lower her gaze. She still felt that pain, so I didn't dwell.

I continued, "Let's talk about your bargaining position. The strength of your position is that I still love you and want you to love me. I want us to live together for the rest of our lives, as a loving, married couple. And as unlikely as that goal is, I am not giving up on it yet.

"The weakness in your position is that I will not try forever. You need to know that if I don't see some change in you soon, that I know I will be happier with a young stripper who loves my money. Yeah, she will be a slut, just like you, and just like you, she might be into drugs, and I suspect, just like you, we won't have much to talk about; but on the other hand, she will be nice to me, she will provide me with sex and she will have firmer tits and ass since she will be 30 years younger. So that really is what you're bargaining against."

"Fuck you" was her response.

"Look, here is my offer. $500 every month. An additional $1,000 this month to hire your own attorney and have him review the prenup. You really need an independent review of it. You will not get title to that car I have loaned you. In fact, I am considering trading in your current car and buying you an older used car.

"The only company allowed in my house is the people I agree can over before-hand. You will not have any boy toys or fuck buddies ever come into my house. Break that one, and you will be out of here. The level of humiliation I can endure does have a limit, and we are very close to it. The cameras stay. There are no cameras in the bedroom, so that is your fortress of solitude. I will pay all the household bills.

"Now I had asked you to give me a list of what your thought your expenses would be. If you have one and it totals more than $500, I will consider increasing the amount."

She was looking dejected.

"I consider this generous. You have no rent to pay, no taxes to pay, no groceries to buy, the only expense I see you having is putting gasoline in the car, buying clothes, go to movies, eat out once or twice a week, this is money you can burn.

"In exchange, you must stay here every night.

"I might ask you out on a date. It will be just a date, I will not expect sex if we go on a date, although, I might try to seduce you. Your response to any clumsy effort at seduction will be entirely up to you. Sex is not part of this bargain.

"My hope is that in time, we might be able to capture a part of that love we once had.

"This offer is not open ended. If we continue living as strangers in this house, and I am convinced that your love for me is lost forever, I will prepare papers for divorce and will tender you $10,000 once you have moved out, consistent with the prenup.

I don't want to pay to support your cocaine habit. If I find out you are spending this on cocaine, it will end this deal and put you on the street."

"And this is supposed to make me feel less like a prisoner?" She said with sarcasm.

"Don't accept the deal; be as free as you want." I replied simply.

Then a long, awkward pause. Finally, "Any other nasty surprises?"

I replied, "Yeah, just one." I handed her a sheet of paper with the name and address of a doctor's office and a date for an appointment.

"What's this."

"Your appointment for an STD test."

"Fuck you!"

"Sweetie, I'll be there with you, taking the test too. You can tell everyone there that it is all my fault and I'll keep my mouth shut. This has nothing to do with our unlikely future together. It is for your health and mine, nothing more. But it is very important to me. And it is the last nasty surprise I have for you."

"So why are you taking the test?" she asked.

"Because we have sex a couple of time a few months ago, while you were fucking around. My risk is smaller than yours, but it isn't zero."

She scooped up all the paperwork I had given on her and headed to the bedroom without saying a word.

The next morning I headed off to work as usual. Linda was still in her room when I left. I had a full day on tap for today. While I was handing most work off to my associates, there were some clients that needed my touch, and today was one of them. I spent the morning with the associate handling his work, briefing me up on all the issues, then had lunch with the client. When I got back from the office and it was 3pm, and there were a stack of calls that needed to be returned. By the time I finished the calls, it was nearly 5. I started to pull up my tracker to see what Linda had been up to today, when my paralegal rushed in and said it was the Chief of Police on the line.

I was a bit of celebrity down at the Police station, since the big criminal case I was involved in uncovered corruption at the highest level of both the police and local government, and it was the evidence that Derek and I had uncovered that resulted in the corrupt officials being arrested and removed from office. The new leadership team at the police department was well received as morale among the rank and file had plummeted under the prior chief.

So I quickly answered the chief. "Patrick," he said, "I'm afraid I have your wife is here in lock up."

"Oh, Geez, Michael, what has she done." I asked.

"Well, the charges are resisting arrest with violence, assault and disorderly conduct, but I have to tell you, to us this looks like a cocaine overdose" said the Chief.

"Can I come down." I asked.

"Yeah, but she is still a bit off her rocker, we aren't going to be releasing her until she settles down, and that will be at least a few more hours" the chief explained.

"I understand. But I need to be there, if that's okay."

"Sure. I'll have the arresting officer here to brief you on what happened."

"Thanks, Michael."

The officer's brief told me that she had checked into a cheap motel at noon, and by three pm, she was yelling and screaming at staff and when then they showed up, she then focused on them. She was clearly paranoid. When it was clear she wasn't going to calm down they decided to arrest her. She started physically resisting arrest. It took three of them to get her under control and into a patrol car. She stated that I was her husband, and she was going to get our badges. I was told that rant went on until they booked her and put her in jail. I apologized for that, thanked him and told him I was deeply embarrassed. I then asked him if he would pass on my apology to everyone involved in the arrest. I also asked if anyone else was with her when she checked in. Not that they knew.

I turned to the chief and asked if he thought I could bail her out in the morning. He said most likely, but that he could release her without bail, I said, no, go with the scheduled amount of bail. We can't give grist for the local news folks, nor make the officers who were part of the arrest think she is getting special treatment.

I called Derek and gave him an update. I told him we would talk more in the morning.

I was at the police station which was located at the same place as the jail at 9AM. Bail had already been set, and I posted it. It took them another hour to process it, so I went over to check in with the chief, just to give him a thank you for his concern. On my return to the jail they told me they were ready to release her, and they brought her out. She looked miserable. I smiled at her and tried to gently walk her into the car to take her home. She was quiet the whole trip. Once home she went to her room, shut the door and shortly after heard her snoring.

I set up a table and chair just outside her door, opened my laptop and contacted the office. In between emails, I did a little research on what I might be able to do with Linda. I called Derek, told him what I was looking for and asked, once again, for his help. He readily agreed.

At about 1 o'clock I heard Linda get up and use the toilet. After a moment I knocked gently and asked if I could get her some soup, maybe a sandwich, or some coffee. She responded quietly, "no," then added after a pause, "thank you."

At 3pm, I got a call from Derek. He had answers to my questions. At 4pm, I heard the shower going. I went and put on some coffee. Linda emerged 10 minutes later in her bathrobe, saw the table and laptop next to her door, then spotted me in the Kitchen. "Coffee?" I said.

"Please." was her only response. I poured two cups, and, set one in front of her on the dining room table and sat down opposite her. "Thank you" was her quiet response.

She sat, sipping coffee for ten minutes, and then she finally spoke up. "Do you know what happened?"

"Pretty much. You got your hands on cocaine, you OD to the point of a psychotic break, you got arrested, and now you are here," I said. "I don't know if you took any lovers during the little party you threw for yourself, but I am guessing you didn't, you seemed plenty busy fucking yourself up." I spoke softly, not betraying how upset I was. Then I added, "Sweety, didn't know about the hold cocaine had on you. I am sorry." She looked up at me and I could tell her eyes were watering. It was the first time she had let me see her cry, except for the time she cried for the turd Kyle.

"So, what are we going to do now." She asked, slowly and deliberately, as if she was afraid of the answer.

"Well, my love, my first plan is now completely dead in the water. I have assembled a second plan, although I am still fuzzy on some of the details. I am giving up on you. I will always love you, and somewhere in the Fairy Tale section of my brain I will harbor a dream of winning you back, but I must admit to myself that is not going to happen. I'm sure you knew this a long time ago, I am just a little slow, is all." Her eyes were a little teary.

"I still have another deal to suggest. The end game isn't to get you to love me, its just to make sure you are well. For your sake, for our kids' sake, and for my sake, too, because I still love you, regardless of how pathetic that sounds. The deal is this: you complete a 30 day course of substance abuse rehab, get a certificate, then I will rent you an apartment and give you an allowance. I'm thinking $1000 a month as a gift, not taxable. You can keep your car. I could check up with you from time to time, but that will be on you. You can turn your place into a drug den or a love nest, it will be none of my business. I will not divorce you, I still cannot sign my name to a document that says our marriage is irretrievably broken. That part of me is still in Fairy Tale Land. If you want to go forward and get the divorce, that will be on you."

Then she rested her head on the table.

Finally, she raised her head and asked, "is there any way I can stay in my home?"

I looked her in the eye and she could tell my eyes were still watery. "Sweetie, so long as I live here, you will be welcomed. But it comes with conditions. First, no lovers. You crushed my heart with your betrayal, and I must defend what shred is left. Second, absolutely no drugs. Not here. Third, all the spy cameras will remain in place, and I will monitor your behavior to assure compliance. Sweetie, I still love you very much, but I don't trust you at all. And remember, that was the rule before yesterday's incident, and my threat then was to put you on the street. Even with that threat you could not follow my rules. Staying here does not seem a viable option to me if as you claim you don't want to be a prisoner." More tears silently welled up in her eyes and fell on her cheeks. She raised no objection to what I had said.

"I think a separate apartment is the best way. If we live together every day, even if we have no physical relationship, I could not bear to see you with another guy, nor could I bear to see you out of your mind with drugs. It would destroy me. Only if such things went on outside of my world could they even possibly be bearable.

"Besides, in the fairy tale corner of my brain, once you are in your apartment, I might feel strong enough to ask you for a date, and maybe then we can start over. Not with a clean slate, but at least with a new beginning. But before that can happen, I have to muster the courage to risk even further damage to what is left of my heart."

She silently nodded and started to get up. I reached over and held her hand gently. "I know this is not all your fault. I poured myself into my case for so many months, I know you must have felt lonely and abandoned. I hate myself for letting this happen and I am deeply sorry that it did. But it happened, and no matter what either of us do, we will never make it unhappen.

She looked up, and managed a soft, small smile. She then withdrew her hand and walked to her room, shutting the door.

As the door shut, I could hear her softly crying. I wondered, were the tears for losing her home or me. My guess it was for her house.

The next morning, by 8, I was sipping my coffee and working my laptop. I had started the day by answering a series of questions from several clients. I also had questions already rolling in from my associates on several of their matters. Linda then appeared. I was a bit surprised she was up so early. I rose, poured her coffee, fixed it the way she liked, and placed it before her as she sat opposite where I had sat at the dining room table. I asked what she wanted for breakfast, and she replied immediately, "No breakfast. Let's talk."

I closed my laptop and said, "I'm listening."

"I will go into rehab."

"Good."

"What happens if I can't complete the course."

I answered, "we either reenroll you, or you are on the street. I know that threat is getting old, but there is an end to what I can endure, and this is it. But so long as you continue to try, I will be there."

She then asked, "What kind of apartment are you going to put me in?"

"Right now, I am looking at Lakeview Apartments, I opened my laptop and navigated to their marketing page. They have a one bedroom, 950 square feet apartment that I am considering. It small, but a relatively new complex. I'll listen to whatever other ideas you have, but it is going to be a major downsize for you."

She looked at the page on my laptop. "I know those apartments. They are okay. Probably better than I deserve. I would like to see them first if that is possible."

"Is there going to be a formal written agreement for my allowance."

"No," I said, "ironically, you are just going to have to trust me."

"What if I go to court, will this allowance just disappear."

"I will insist the order reflect the prenup."

"Will you pay for my lawyer?" She asked.

"No," I said.

"I thought you said you loved me." Her voice was revealing a growing anger.

"Unfortunately, I do love you. But right now, I am not going to contribute to a divorce."

She just stared at me. I could no longer see her anger, but I couldn't make out what it is I did see in her face. Confusion? Sadness?

"Okay, I understand. When do I go to Rehab?"

"This afternoon. Delay will only make it harder." I said.

"Can we try to see the apartment this morning?"

"Sure."