This is in the LW category, has no sex, and is a RAAC, so you are warned. It has as its core a method which has been used in some LW stories, but is herein 'codified,' explained and named.
Characters:
Bob Williams (Husband divorcing cheating wife)
Venus Anderson (Bob Williams' lawyer)
Jennifer Williams (Cheating wife)
Steve Wheeler (Jennifer Williams' lawyer)
The conference room was quiet, with the strained quiet that only repressed raw emotions can generate. The only thing that it lacked for a classic Hitchcock-style movie tension was the ticking of an old clock.
Two people sat at one side of the table. The woman had straw blond hair of shoulder length and intense blue eyes which seemed skeptical of everything, even the dust motes drifting in the beams of sunlight sneaking through the small gaps in the shades. Her makeup was restrained and professional, and perfectly in keeping with her classic business dress in a mix of black, grey and white. She had a folder on the table in front of her and occasionally glanced at the silent electric clock on the wall opposite.
The man was in his early thirties, but with the worn edges of someone who had aged several years in less than a month. His hair was chestnut brown and a bit long and ragged; like a preoccupied man without a wife to remind him about going to the barber. His eyes were brown and his lips drawn back tightly, like a man being forced to watch his child's autopsy -- desperately wanting to be anywhere else, but resigned to the pain to come.
At precisely two minutes before the appointed time, the door on the opposite side of the room opened and a tall, broad-shouldered man walked through, followed closely by a woman. He held a chair for her, and then sat down himself. The door shut slowly behind them with a dragging 'click'. The man was tall and had an indefinable air of determination, a sense of purpose akin to a Roman gladiator before the gate opened into the coliseum. His red hair was trimmed perfectly and could have been mistaken for a hairpiece. His green eyes were wary and his glance appeared to weigh up and account for everything and everyone in the room. His grey suit might have been chiseled from stone, for it lacked the slightest wrinkle.
The woman next to him was slight and slender, with long black hair pulled severely back and restrained by a plain, heavy clip. Her eyes were normally a pleasant blue, but they were now set in a crazy web of redness that spoke of copious tears, shed and yet to be shed. She looked like one who had not slept at all well in more than a month, and had to be forced to eat by an unsympathetic mother. She was wearing a black dress, as one might wear to a funeral, and had the one-step-from-death air of a parent picking out their child's coffin. She was desperately trying to catch the eye of the man across the table from her -- whose eyes were riveted to a knot in the faux wooden paneling above and behind her.
The tall broad-shouldered man stood and extended a hand to the blond woman, who stood and shook his hand.
"Steve Wheeler. And you are ...?"
"Anderson. Venus Anderson," she responded, letting go of the firm, steady grip and sitting down, looking at him suspiciously for a moment. The grip had not been overly familiar, nor intimidatingly firm. His was not overtly pressing his height or obvious physical strength advantages but treating her as a fellow gladiator. This was unusual enough to cause a flicker of puzzlement which she quickly dismissed. She opened the folder in front of her and lifted the neatly typed death warrant for a marriage and said, "I believe you will find my client's offer to be more than fair."
She did not have to actually read the paper, since she had typed it up herself from her interview notes with her client, one Bob Williams, who was stoically sitting beside her, but used her best, most reasonable voice to try and sell it, with the footnote that the pain would start fading the quicker the stitches were yanked out.
"The house has little equity and neither can afford to really buy the other out or assume the mortgage, so it should be sold and any profit or loss equally split. Each will keep their own vehicle and be responsible for their own insurance and other customary expenses. Each party will keep their own retirement accounts. Any and all saving, checking, stocks, bonds, or other assets to be divided equally. My client is offering a maintenance of $1000 per month for one year or until your client gets remarried or moves in with a significant other. In exchange your client will revert to her maiden name, cease wearing her wedding ring, and return the engagement ring, which is an heirloom of my client's family. Until the divorce is final, your client will remain on my client's health and dental plans. Your client will be removed from my client's insurance policies as beneficiary upon acceptance of this offer." She glanced at the distraught women, suppressing a passing wave of sympathy, and gently slid the paper halfway across the table. "There isn't any fairer offer, my client just want this to be over quickly and hopes your client won't draw it out."
The woman, Jennifer Williams, gasped slightly, bit her lip and exchanged a look with her lawyer. She nodded jerkily and nudged his arm. He gave her a brief look that said to any experienced poker player in the room, "Are you really sure about this?" She nodded again. He gave a barely audible sigh. Turned to his opponent and said. "That is indeed a very fair settlement, and more than she says she deserves." He reached across the table and pushed the paper back and inch or two. "However, she respectfully and hopefully requests that your client consider her counter-offer." He pulled out a folder, laid it on the table and pulled out several sheets and started to read. Opposing council maintained a look of utter neutrality while her client glared at him with a look bouncing wildly between disbelief and downright hostility.
"My client will sign away any and all rights to the joint residence to your client. His name will be the only one on the title, deed and mortgage. She will sign over to your client 100% of all joint assets and make no claim upon his retirement or any other benefits. She will return to her maiden name, return the engagement ring, but will wear her wedding ring on a necklace in the hope that someday your client will place it back on her finger. While she has quit her job, she requests no maintenance. She will have no further contact or dealings of any kind with ...," he eyed his client and then continued, "her seducing bastard former co-worker. She will seek new employment and your client will have approval rights over the position. Any and all income from said job will be directly deposited into an account over which your client has total control. Any allowance my client has will be totally at your client's discretion. Upon enactment of this dissolution of marriage, your client will permit my client to reoccupy his home, his bedroom, and his bed and resume sexual relations with her," she elbowed him and he eyed her again, "frequent sexual relations, so that she may make her transgression up to him. In support of this you will find attached a medical report indicating that she has no sexually transmitted infections. She requests marital counselling with your client having veto over the counsellor with sessions when it is mutually convenient. She consents to wearing an ankle monitor if your client so wishes. She will turn over all passwords to any and all electronic devices and consents to your client having unlimited access to all such devices at any time. In the case of any proven future infidelity she will leave with only her car, clothes and jewelry which was owned prior to the marriage. She voluntarily gives up all custody of future children and any and all visitation will be at your client's discretion. She also agrees that your client may have, at any future time, an outside sexual relationship lasting no more than three encounters, and my client will say not a word about it nor take any negative or detrimental actions against your client, as she views this as her just punishment for letting lust overcome love, honor and good sense. She asks only that she be informed when the encounters are over ...," he paused, and his client nudged him again sharply with her elbow. He cleared his throat and continued, "... so that she can prove to him that he will never be able to find a better partner anywhere; nor someone who realizes so bitterly that she is on the brink of losing the best friend she ever had." He looked up and slid the paper a few inches toward his counterpart. "She has already signed off on this. And your client will probably never get a more remorseful, repentant and loving counter offer."