This story was inspired by the Eagles' song, Lyin' Eyes.
My lawyer sat back and smiled. "So, Louis, that's where we stand," he said. "Your parents had their finances very well organized. All their accounts were 'transfer on death', so they automatically come to you." Sitting next to me, my wife Stephanie squeezed my hand. "All the account holders have received copies of the death certificates," the lawyer continued, "and now everything is in your name. Those accounts total 14.2 million dollars. The house is on the market for 6.6 million and we've sold the art, the antiques and the cars and jewelry that you didn't want." Stephanie's grip tightened. "When everything settles, we'll be looking at over twenty-six million."
We?
I thought.
What do you mean, we?
Apparently, he'd cranked out so many billable hours that he considered himself part of the family. Lawyers!
I signed the final papers, we shook hands and Stephanie and I left. In the car, I called for a lunch reservation at the Black Tulip restaurant in Cocoa Village. Stephanie was trying hard to contain her excitement. She hadn't gotten along very well with my parents, who made no secret of the way they felt about her. They thought she was only after my -- and their - money. They hadn't mentioned Stephanie in their wills. Stephanie wasn't going to miss them at all, but the money had her practically bouncing up and down in the passenger seat of my car.
We were shown to a table right away and ordered our drinks and entrees. Stephanie was already planning our future.
"You don't need to work anymore, Louis," she said. "Bill's been wanting to buy you out for years. Sell him your shares and we'll be able to retire and have fun."
That's funny
, I thought.
You haven't worked since we got married.
Stephanie was bubbling away. "We were planning on that trip to Scandinavia, anyway. Now we can go first class all the way and not worry about cost."
As if you ever worry about cost
, I thought.
The waiter brought our drinks and salads. Time to drop the bomb.
"There are a couple of things we need to consider before we go," I said softly.
"Oh, we'll need new luggage!" she said brightly. "What else?"
"Well," I said, pulling an envelope out of my jacket pocket, "there's the pre-nup and these." I put the envelope on the table in front of her.
Stephanie looked at the envelope and then at me. I wasn't moving and I had my poker face on. "What's this?" she asked.
"A few photos. Just open it."
Slowly, she put her salad fork down, opened the envelope and slid the photos out. The first one showed her leaning against her car and her kissing her old boyfriend Jay, in a mall parking lot. Jay's pants were unzipped and his cock was out. My loving wife had her hand wrapped around it. The next one was of her and another man on the sofa in our family room. It was the middle of the day and I was at the office. They were both naked and the man was being ridden by my wife. From the look on her face, she was having an orgasm. The next picture was of Stephanie and a different man on the nude beach northeast of Titusville. The guy's erection was in Stephanie's mouth and the look on his face was one of orgasmic joy.
I ate a tomato wedge. When Stephanie started to speak, I held up my hand. I finished chewing, swallowed and took a sip of wine.
"You weren't very careful," I said. "All those texts on your phone and the way the house and your clothes smelled was a dead giveaway. I know Jay's a smoker. I knew a smoker had been in the house on some days when you said you hadn't been out and hadn't done anything. It wasn't hard to figure it all out, especially after I read your texts, so I had you followed." I ate some more salad. "Finding the condoms you keep in that makeup case in your purse really pissed me off. You always had to be ready for a good fuck, didn't you?" I was starting to get a little loud. I lowered my voice. "You were prepared to cuckold me day or night. How convenient for you." I refilled my wine glass from the carafe on the table.
"Now, as far as the pre-nup goes, I'm sure you remember the section on cheating. It says that if you cheat on me, and you have cheated on me, you take out of our marriage what you brought into it. That was damn near nothing." Stephanie was openly crying, now. People at nearby tables were staring. I ignored them and ate another bite of salad.
"So, here's what's going to happen. You have two choices. Choice one: We get a divorce. I'll give you $50,000, which you don't deserve, and your clothes. The good jewelry is locked in the safe right now, and the combination has been changed. Your credit cards have been cancelled. You no longer have access to any bank accounts, including the ones you thought I didn't know about. Your Lexus is in your name and you can keep it." I drank another swallow of wine. "There's an overnight bag in the car. If you choose not to stay with me and abide by my rules, you can call a cab and go to a hotel. There's a thousand bucks cash in the bag and I'll give you the other forty-nine grand tomorrow. I'll send your clothes to wherever you want."
Stephanie wiped her eyes and blew her nose in her napkin. The look on her face was pure despair. Our waiter started our way and was stopped by the manager.
"Choice two: We stay married, with several conditions. First, you send all your lovers one last text, breaking it off, permanently. No other communication, ever. No goodbye fucks. Next, you'll have one credit card with a $5,000 limit. I'll pay off the card once a month." That last one hurt her more that anything. I never had any doubt that Stephanie was a major-league gold-digger. She loved money, loved spending money, loved buying lovely things and showing them off to her friends. A budget of five grand a month would seriously cramp her style. Well, tough. She thought she had it made at last, and now her plans were vanishing, like soap bubbles on a windy day. Stephanie got up and trotted toward the ladies room. I was getting some very dirty looks from the other lunch patrons. I finished my salad and the waiter brought the entrees.
By the time Stephanie came back, I was halfway through my shrimp piccatta. Her makeup was gone and her eyes were red, her face swollen and blotchy. She sat down and stared at her plate.
I wasn't about to cut her any slack. "To continue," I said in a neutral voice, "I noticed that you've been doing some things with those men that you haven't been too anxious to do with me lately. That makes me really unhappy. I've given you pretty much everything you wanted, including too much money and too much trust, and you haven't been returning my generosity. Before we were married, you went down on me whenever I asked you to and you always swallowed for me. You know how much I like that and if you stay with me, you're going to do it again, any goddamn time I want you to. There are some other things I want to do too, and you're going to do them, enthusiastically. I'm thoroughly pissed off at you right now, and I frankly don't give a shit whether you want to do the things I'm going to demand from you or not. Any reluctance or hesitation or resentment on your part will detract from my pleasure and I won't put up with it." I put my fork down. "Let's be very clear now. If you elect to stay married to me, I'm going to be in a position to hold this crap over your head. I intend to use the leverage your cheating has given me to get what I want from you, regardless of how you feel about it. I intend to get plenty of payback. I intend to use your body as an outlet for my anger and I'd better not encounter any resistance from you. You will do what I say with a smile, to the best of your ability. You can consider whatever unpleasantness you may experience to be punishment for your betrayal." I took a last bite of my meal. "I know how much you love money. I don't know how much you love me, or if you ever really loved me. I still love you and I'm willing to continue in this marriage. I realize that keeping you around might be a serious mistake. For all I know, you might be perfectly willing to murder me for my money. I've changed my will, though, and if I die, there'll be an in-depth autopsy and investigation. Besides that, you'll only get a very small part of my fortune. How much that will be and where the rest of it goes is none of your damn business. That might change someday. It's up to you."