## Part 1: Whispers of Darkness – The Fateful Call

*Climax: “That was when I understood what was really happening… She was leaving me for someone else.”*

“Yeah,” I answered impatiently into my phone as I rushed to finish the latest revisions to the production efficiency reports. It was a typical Monday afternoon at the Ford Rouge Plant. The plant managers had spent the weekend reviewing our assembly-line optimization proposals and making last-minute changes to the workflow protocols. And guess who got to handle the fallout? That would be me.

“Hi, it’s me,” my wife replied. Becky’s voice sounded strained, but I figured it was just the stress from her shift at Detroit Medical Center. “I’m just calling to find out what time you’ll be home tonight.”

Her call wasn’t unusual. Becky liked to stay on top of things. She was the planner in our family. She took it as her responsibility to coordinate our hectic schedules between my engineering deadlines and her nursing supervisor duties.

“I’m not sure,” I mumbled distractedly as I continued analyzing the production data on my workstation. “Joe just handed me a bunch of last-minute changes to the transmission line efficiency project, and we need to get the revised protocols to the floor supervisors by tonight. If everything goes right, we should wrap up in a couple hours. But don’t hold dinner for me if it gets too late. I’ll grab something from the plant cafeteria.”

Inside, I felt that familiar irritation about my boss’s habit of dropping unexpected overtime on me. It had been the source of more than a few disagreements between Becky and me lately. I’m a production engineer for Ford Motor Company, specializing in assembly-line optimization and workflow efficiency. About five years ago, I’d been promoted to senior project manager. A nice salary bump, but it also meant more responsibility and the likelihood of longer hours.

“I’m sure Ashley will handle whatever you need,” she responded sarcastically. “Try to make it home before midnight. We have things to discuss.”

Becky said it curtly. I mumbled a hasty goodbye before turning my attention back to the computer.

In hindsight, I missed all the warning signs in her tone. I’d only given her part of my attention because I needed to get this job done. I was in a rush to finish up and get home. I probably should have paid more attention to what she was saying, or perhaps more importantly, how she was saying it.

It was only later that I realized the phone call had been a classic no-win situation. If I had stopped working and taken time to really talk with her, it would have taken longer to complete the job, and she would have been upset because I was even later getting home. But by choosing to hurry through the conversation in an obviously distracted fashion, she felt ignored. No matter how I’d responded, I would have confirmed her fears about my priorities.

It wasn’t the best way to start the worst evening of my life. I knew I’d tuned her out, and she hated being ignored. All I’d done was succeed in making her angry with me. Hell, I’d even missed her snide comment about Ashley.

Ashley Martinez had been hired as my junior production engineer right out of Wayne State University about three years ago. Hiring her was one of the best decisions I’d made when putting my current team together. I was a damn good engineer, but my management skills needed work. She had the organizational and communication skills I lacked and was the one who worked behind the scenes to keep our projects running smoothly. Our skills complemented each other perfectly. If it hadn’t been for her, I don’t think my team would have been half as successful.

Unfortunately, Ashley had become another source of tension between Becky and me. Although Becky had never said it to my face, she dropped enough hints to make me believe she thought I’d hired Ashley strictly because of her looks. Ashley was about twenty-five, attractive, and energetic. She reminded me a lot of Becky when we first got married, which might explain why Becky had taken an instant dislike to her.

In retrospect, it was obvious that Becky felt threatened by the amount of time Ashley and I spent together. But clueless me missed all the warning signs. All I saw were the contributions Ashley made to our team. Sure, I spent lots of time with Ashley. She was my project coordinator. She was in and out of my office constantly and was a frequent companion on visits to the production floor and other Ford facilities. She was the one who kept me organized and on schedule. I never considered how it might look to Becky.

It might not have been an issue, but things had been strained between us over the last year or two. We’d both developed the unfortunate habit of avoiding subjects that would cause arguments. Instead, we let them fester. Becky never directly accused me of being inappropriate with Ashley, but I think she had her suspicions. As for me, I’d stopped mentioning Ashley around her. I didn’t want to give Becky a reason to get upset.

The ironic thing was that I had no romantic interest in Ashley whatsoever. If anything, she was like my little sister. I loved her enthusiasm and energy, but I had very little in common with her outside of work, as had become obvious during some of our conversations on long drives to other Ford facilities. I won’t lie, I didn’t ignore the fact that she was attractive, but I didn’t dwell on it. Besides, Becky was the only woman I wanted or needed. I loved her and had no desire to look elsewhere.

Frankly, I thought the guys who chased after young women were fools. I had some friends from the UAW local who dumped their wives for younger women, and I just shook my head at their stupidity. I couldn’t see the point. Even from a distance, I could see the calculating look in those young women’s eyes as they worked their sugar daddies for everything they were worth.

As for me, I had a full life with Becky. Even though we had our disagreements, we had a good partnership. We were together because we wanted to be. She was the one I wanted to grow old with.

I finally finished up and sent the revised efficiency protocols to the floor supervisors around 8:00 p.m. I stretched, saved my work, and shut down my computer. I walked out of the plant with the rest of my team as we all hurried home to make the most of our shortened evening.

By now, I’d completely forgotten about Becky’s phone call. I just wanted to get home and relax. Luckily, I missed most of the rush-hour traffic on I-94 and got home to our Troy suburb before 9:00 p.m. I was just in time to kiss my ten-year-old daughter Sophie goodnight as she headed upstairs to her room. I peeked in on Emma and waved. She was on her phone, naturally. I shook my head in disbelief. Twelve years old and already glued to social media.

I just made myself a bourbon and settled onto the couch to zone out in front of the TV when Becky came in and sat down in the armchair across from me, looking directly at me. This was my first clue that relaxation wasn’t on tonight’s agenda. She usually sat next to me on the couch so we could be close. The only time she sat in that chair was when she had something serious to discuss.

I sighed internally and looked over at her. Her body language was hard to read. She was obviously nervous about something, but my late return had given her time to stew, so she also seemed angry.

“Mike,” she began slowly, “I don’t know how to make this any easier, so I’m just going to say it. I want a divorce.”

I was stunned. Even though we’d had some problems, I had no idea they’d gotten this serious.

“What?” I sputtered. “You can’t be serious. What’s going on?”

She dropped her eyes and wouldn’t look at me. I sat there staring at her. Of course, the first thing my mind did was examine my own behavior to see what might have caused this. All I could think of was Ashley. Becky must have finally convinced herself that I was having an affair.

“Can we talk about this?” I pleaded desperately. “I don’t know what you think is happening, but we’ve been together for fifteen years. Shouldn’t we try to work things out?”

“I’m sorry, Mike. My mind’s made up,” she said quietly. “Look, it’s nothing you did. We’ve been drifting apart for years, and I think it would be best for both of us if we just moved on with our lives.”

After fifteen years, I knew her pretty well. It was obvious from her body language that she was hiding something. I just didn’t know what.

“Maybe we aren’t as close as we used to be,” I responded heatedly, “but that’s something we could fix if we wanted to. What the hell is really bothering you? What’s going on? Do you think I’m having an affair or something?”

At my words, she flushed and twisted her fingers together. Her guilt was written all over her face.

***That was when I understood what was really happening.** *

“Son of a—” I swore softly. “You’re the one who’s cheating. You’re leaving me for someone else.”

Her silence confirmed my suspicions.

—

## Part 2: The Door Closes – When a Wife Walks Out

*Climax: “Mike, I’m truly sorry. But the door had already slammed shut behind her before I could respond.”*

I sat there stunned for a moment, wondering what had gone wrong. Never in a million years would I have suspected Becky of cheating. I was confused. A moment ago, I’d been desperate to save my marriage. Now I didn’t know if I wanted to save it or if there was anything left to save. All I knew was that I was furious.

“Who is it?” I demanded harshly.

“I’m sorry, Mike,” she said softly. “It just happened. It really wasn’t anything you did. He just swept me off my feet, and we want to be together.”

“Who is it?” I interrupted.

“David Chun,” she whispered.

“David Chun?” I exclaimed in disbelief. “You’re leaving me for that surgeon? I don’t believe it. Wait, he’s married too. You’re destroying his marriage as well.”

She stared at me for a moment as her guilt fought with her anger at my harsh words. Finally, the anger won.

“Yes, Mike,” she stated defiantly. “David is leaving his wife too, and we’re going to be together. I’m trying to be civil about this and not get into an argument, but you won’t let me, will you? I want a divorce because I found someone else.”

Her words hit me like a slap. My emotional outburst subsided and left a cold, calculating rage in its place. Dispassionately, I reviewed my options. If I gave vent to my emotions and raged at her like my gut was demanding, nothing would be accomplished. In fact, it would be impossible for us to have a meaningful conversation. Alternatively, I could wall myself off and try to approach this as coldly as possible.

It was the mental anguish that forced my decision. I couldn’t stand the emotional pain her revelation had caused. To function, I needed to suppress all my emotions. The only way I could deal with her was to shut her out. I threw up an emotional wall and looked at her dispassionately.

“Fine. You want a divorce? You got it. It’ll save me the trouble of filing myself.”

My reaction seemed to surprise her. Even though she’d done her best to push me away, my willingness to let her go stung. She was more conflicted than she was letting on. I could sense that at some level she wasn’t totally committed to the path she was taking.

I sat there for a few moments, considering her reaction, half-listening as she started mouthing the usual platitudes people use at times like this. The kind of thing someone says when trying to let someone down gently. You know the routine. She didn’t mean to hurt me. She still cared about me. She still wanted us to be friends. All that nonsense. I had no interest in hearing it. I don’t think either of us really believed a word of it.

So I kind of zoned out while trying to make sense of what had just happened. It was only natural that it took me a moment to refocus when she nervously moved to a new topic. As I mentally reviewed what she’d said, I was sure I’d missed something important.

“What did you say?” I asked incredulously.

In exasperation, she repeated, “I said we need to figure out what we’re going to do. I know I sprung this on you suddenly, so I don’t mind if you move into the guest room for a few days while you find a place to live.”

I couldn’t believe it. Of all the nerve—she cheats on me, tells me she wants a divorce, and expects me to move out? That wasn’t going to happen.

“What do you take me for, an idiot?” I blurted out. “I’m not going anywhere. Why should I leave? You’re the one asking for the divorce, not me.”

Becky looked stunned. I don’t think she’d expected me to challenge her.

“Did you honestly expect me to just move out?” I laughed bitterly. “Tell me, what was your plan? Was David going to move in and take my place?”

Her expression told me I was close to the mark.

“Like hell,” I growled. “This is my house, and no way is he moving in here to take my place. You want to leave me for him? Good riddance. I’m not going to stop you, but I haven’t done anything to deserve this. And I’m not walking away with my tail between my legs.”

I glared at her as my rage began to resurface.

“Get the hell out. Go live with your boyfriend for all I care.”

She sputtered for a moment in shock. “But what about the girls? This is their home.”

I shook my head incredulously. “What about the girls? Now you worry about the girls? I bet you thought about them a lot while you were sneaking around behind my back. I’m not going to allow some jerk to replace me in my house. Do you think I’m going to let you replace me in their lives? Hell, he has three kids of his own that he just walked out on. I’m not letting him anywhere near my daughters.”

I stared at Becky and told her in a cold, deliberate tone, “If you want to take off with your lover, there’s the door, but the kids stay here with me. You can visit them whenever you want, and maybe you can explain to them why you destroyed this marriage. I’ll never stop you from seeing the kids, but I’m warning you—keep that jerk away from them.”

I leaned forward. “Tell you what, Becky. I’ll give you a choice just like you wanted to give me. You’re welcome to the guest room if you want to stay here with the kids while we sort this train wreck out. But it won’t hurt me in the slightest if you get out of my life right now. Make no mistake about it. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let you push me out of my house or away from my kids.”

That was the end of any coherent conversation. She responded angrily and we quickly devolved into accusations, yelling, and name-calling. I was livid. I couldn’t believe Becky thought so little of me that she could try to walk all over me like that.

I don’t know where it would have ended if Emma hadn’t come downstairs to find out what was going on. Seeing her in the doorway, horrified at the scene of her parents engaged in a screaming match, was enough to shock both Becky and me back to reality.

I like to think we were good parents. One look at Emma was enough to shift our focus. Regardless of our problems, one thing we could still agree on was keeping the kids out of the middle of our private battle.

The only way to end our fight was to get away from Becky. So, with a mumbled comment about finishing this later, I went over to Emma and asked her to come upstairs with me so we could talk. If the girls were going to stay with me, it was up to me to break the news. I didn’t trust Becky not to tell them they’d be moving out with her. Besides, I knew the news was going to hit them hard. I wanted to tell them about the impending divorce as gently as possible.

I led Emma upstairs and saw Sophie cautiously peek her head out of her bedroom door. She’d obviously heard the shouting too. I waved her over to join us as we went into Emma’s room.

I won’t go into detail about that conversation. Suffice it to say, it was painful for all of us. I tried to walk a fine line. Despite my anger and harsh words downstairs, I knew the girls needed both parents, so I tried hard not to demonize Becky. I’m sure my anger slipped out at times, but I purposefully avoided discussing exactly what had caused our problems. There would be plenty of time to discuss what happened later. The last thing the girls needed right now was to be forced to choose sides.

When they pressed for details, I simply told them that Becky and I were having problems we couldn’t fix and we were going to get a divorce. I tried hard to emphasize that they weren’t the cause of our problems and that we both still loved them. The girls took the news badly, just as I’d expected. It was a shock to all of us. None of us had seen it coming.

When Emma pressed me for reasons, I had to shake my head in confusion. I really didn’t want to tell the girls that Becky had found someone else. I just left it with a comment that I was upset and as confused as they were.

In the end, both girls cried themselves to exhaustion, and I left them huddled together on Emma’s bed. I covered them with a blanket and made my weary way back downstairs. I was thankful that Becky hadn’t tried to insert herself into our conversation. She’d get her chance to talk to the girls later.

With a heavy heart, I paused at the top of the stairs. I dreaded going back to the living room. I really didn’t want to fight with Becky anymore that night, but I had to talk to her. We needed to discuss how our breakup would affect the girls.

When I returned to the living room, I saw Becky hastily putting away her cell phone. I assumed she’d been talking to that jerk Chun, telling him what had happened. It should have infuriated me, but at that moment, I was too exhausted to care. It was just another sign that our marriage was over.

From the red around her eyes, it was obvious she’d been crying too. She looked up at me apprehensively as I sat down. That puzzled me for an instant, then I understood. She was afraid of what I told the girls. She thought I’d told them about her affair with Chun. She was worried that I’d given in to my anger and blamed her for everything, that I’d taken the opportunity to turn the girls against her.

I shook my head in disgust. “Jesus Christ, Becky, give me some credit. I might hate you right now, but you’re their mother. They need both of us. I’m not going to try to turn the girls against you.”

My eyes hardened as I leaned forward. “Let’s set one ground rule now. We’re getting divorced, not the kids. I don’t want them dragged into the middle of this. I won’t trash you to them, and I expect you to do the same. Let’s keep this between us and try to keep it as painless as possible for the kids.”

Becky nodded gratefully. “What did you tell them?”

“I just said we were having troubles and had decided to split up. If you want to tell them what really happened, be my guest. I don’t think they need to know right now, but if you want to confess, I’ll leave that up to you. Just don’t make me the villain.”

I grabbed what remained of my bourbon and downed it quickly. I was tempted to get another. Hell, I was tempted to have several, but drowning my sorrows wasn’t my style. I rubbed my neck and looked over at her tiredly.

“I can’t deal with this anymore tonight. All we’ll do is get into another argument and wake the kids up. So why don’t you get what you need out of the bedroom now? I want to go to bed.”

I was somewhat surprised that I didn’t get more of an argument out of Becky. She slowly nodded and went upstairs. At that point, I really didn’t know or care if she was staying or leaving.

She came down a few minutes later carrying a small overnight bag. She looked at me sorrowfully. “I’ll call the girls tomorrow, and I’ll let you know when I’m coming by to pick up more things. I’m going to stay with a friend for a few days.”

I snorted. I assumed she was heading out to shack up with Chun. She looked like she wanted to say something else, but turned away and quietly headed toward the door.

***As she opened it, I heard her murmur sadly, “Mike, I’m truly sorry.”** *

***But the door had already slammed shut behind her before I could respond.** *

—

## Part 3: Truth from an Enemy’s Mouth – The Secret Exposed

*Climax: “I began to wonder if I’d ever really known her at all… and the truth was about to be laid bare.”*

I stared at the wall for a while, then went to my solitary bed to lie awake, staring at the ceiling, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with my life.

The next few weeks were pure hell. To my dismay, Becky and I rapidly fell into a pattern of sniping and bickering that threatened to spiral completely out of control. I guess it started the day after Becky left. I called into work to let them know I was taking a few personal days to deal with the crisis. Joe wasn’t happy, but he could understand where I was coming from. He’d gone through a bitter divorce a few years earlier that had left him understandably cynical. He was a charter member of the “women-can’t-be-trusted” club and was eager to give me advice on how to take Becky to the cleaners in court. He gave me recommendations for an aggressive divorce attorney and suggested I start taking steps to protect my assets.

The girls had been surprised that morning to find their mother wasn’t there, but they were somewhat reassured by her promise to call them. I promised we’d discuss things further after school. They wanted to stay home, but I knew I’d be busy and didn’t want them sitting around obsessing over the divorce. So I sent them to school, hoping they might be distracted from the situation. Just to be safe, I contacted the school counseling office to advise them of our situation. They recommended a therapist for the girls to meet with if it became necessary.

Maybe I was naive, but I never considered the possibility that Becky would try to take the girls from my custody. I just didn’t think she had it in her. Luckily, it didn’t occur to her either. She did pick up the girls from school, but only to talk to them. She even had the courtesy to call and tell me what she’d done, so I wouldn’t worry when they didn’t come home on time. Still, I paced and worried until I saw her car pull up.

I wasn’t feeling too charitable toward Becky that day. During the afternoon, I’d learned some new information about what was going on, and I was livid.

I’d received an unexpected visitor a few hours earlier: Jennifer Chun. Jen was David’s wife, and she’d come to tell me about her husband’s affair with Becky. Jen had been tracking the two of them for about two or three months and had gathered evidence she wanted to share with me. She’d managed to get photos and other documentation of them together. I took note of it but declined to see most of it. I didn’t want to know the details or see images of my wife with David Chun. The few photos she did show me were enough to turn my stomach. I didn’t need any further evidence of Becky’s betrayal.

The worst part, however, was something Jen revealed. From the beginning of her visit, she acted like she expected me to already know about the affair. When I commented on this, she disclosed that she’d confronted the two of them yesterday during their lunch meeting. She told David to end it and warned both of them that she was going to inform me, so Becky knew the jig was up. She knew damn well that Jen had evidence and that it would reach me soon.

Jen’s revelation floored me. ***Now I understood why Becky had asked for a divorce out of the blue. She knew that Jen was going to expose her affair. She tried to gain the upper hand by dumping me before I found out the truth. The dishonesty of her actions was unbelievable. It could only be viewed as cold-hearted and manipulative. She tried to manipulate me into leaving the house while hiding her guilt from me.** *

The only thing that confused me was that this behavior just didn’t seem to fit the Becky I thought I knew. I’d never considered her to be that self-centered and conniving. ***I began to wonder if I’d ever really known her at all.** *

In any event, while anxiously awaiting Becky’s return with the girls, I made my decision. If she could act that callously toward me, then I would play hardball too. I’d live up to my promise not to get the girls involved, but in all other respects, it was going to be all-out war. I decided to take Joe’s advice and make her pay in the divorce. In the meantime, I started looking for little ways to annoy and harass her. I wanted to pay her back for the pain she’d caused me.

—

## Part 4: The Thin Line – Between Hatred and Forgiveness

*Climax: “Women. Are they all that naive, or is it me who has such bad luck with them?” I muttered as I threw some bills on the table and walked away.*

I’m sure most of you have gone through a tough breakup at some point in your life. You know how easy it is to succumb to the darker part of your nature and fall into an us-versus-them mentality. You attack your former partner in an effort to ease some of the pain in your heart. You fight over things you don’t really care about just because you know it will upset the other side. That’s the pattern Becky and I fell into.

Every little attack or slight I directed at her was responded to in kind, and then I’d retaliate to her actions. We weren’t thinking. We were just reacting. After all, you had to respond. Doing nothing might be seen as a sign of weakness. In any event, we were acting like feuding families. And slowly but surely, our attacks on each other were escalating. We were in a downward spiral that seemed headed for a disastrous contested divorce where everything would be fought over, starting with custody of the girls.

That’s when Lauren stepped in.

Lauren was the one person I could always count on to support me and give me the advice I needed, whether I wanted to hear it or not. She was my twin sister—technically my cousin—but that doesn’t begin to do justice to our relationship. In our minds, we are twins with different mothers.

To understand this, you need to know something about our parents. They’re a living, breathing human-interest story. To make a long story short, our mothers are identical twins who met and fell in love with, you guessed it, another pair of identical twins. Our parents took the twin thing to the extreme. Our moms and dads got married in a joint ceremony followed by a shared honeymoon. Nine months later, Lauren and I were the result. Our mothers even managed to conceive at the same time and went into labor within minutes of each other.

In my mind, I can just picture them in adjoining hospital beds at Detroit Receiving Hospital, coordinating their contractions. Lauren came first. The doctor had just enough time to deliver her and cut the umbilical cord before rushing over to catch me as I made my entrance into the world. Lauren’s never let me forget that she’s about ten minutes older than I am.

For as far back as I can remember, Lauren has been part of my life. Lauren’s family lived on the next street over in our Dearborn neighborhood, just a few blocks from the Ford River Rouge Plant where both our dads worked the line. Our backyards connected, and in practice, we turned the backyard and both houses into shared space. It was like having a second home and family. Her parents were my parents and vice versa. I’m pretty sure our mothers switched off nursing us on occasion. It didn’t bother me. I thought I was really lucky to have two moms.

Aunt Mary and Uncle Mike—yes, I’m named for my uncle, just like Lauren is named for my mother—always treated me like their own child. To this day, I still call Aunt Mary “Mom.” Sometimes she takes it as a compliment, and Uncle Mike doesn’t mind either.

Both families worked hard to make ends meet. Our dads put in long hours at the Rouge Plant, sometimes pulling double shifts when overtime was available. Our moms worked too—my mom as a school secretary, Aunt Mary as a nurse’s aide at the local clinic. It was a close-knit working-class neighborhood where everyone looked out for each other. I guess it’s to be expected. Genetically, I was their child and Lauren was the child of my parents. It’s no wonder we ended up acting like twins.

Lauren’s house was my second home, and I probably slept there as often as I did in my own house. When I wasn’t at her house, she was at mine. We were inseparable. I’m told that when Lauren and I were toddlers, the easiest way to put us down for a nap was to let us cuddle up like a pair of puppies.

It may seem strange to others, but I grew up with four parents in two homes, all hardworking folks who made sure we knew the value of a dollar and the importance of family.

Now, before anyone gets the wrong idea, as far as I know, nothing inappropriate ever went on between our parents. Trust me, even with identical twins, there are enough differences for family members to tell them apart. We all knew who was who. Similarly, don’t even think that Lauren and I ever crossed any lines. Lauren was my best friend and, in all important respects, my twin sister. We had that twin dynamic going full force. The idea of anything romantic between us would have been like kissing a female version of myself. That’s not something I was ever interested in.

Throughout elementary and middle school, Lauren and I were inseparable. We both took some teasing, but we stuck up for each other. I probably got into more fights defending Lauren than for any other reason, and she did the same for me. If someone couldn’t accept both of us as friends, then they didn’t get either of us.

By high school, we developed some different interests, but we still hung out together more often than not. We ended up joining a loose group of friends who generally had fun together. It was nice to have someone watching my back and keeping me from getting too stupid. Lauren always kept her eye out for me, and I was her protector. Our friends soon learned that we didn’t keep secrets from each other. If a guy wanted Lauren to know he liked her, all he needed to do was tell me. The same went for Lauren. She hooked me up with most of my girlfriends in high school.

After high school, we did go our separate ways for a while. Although we talked about attending the same college, our situations were different. I got a partial scholarship to Wayne State for engineering while Lauren got into the nursing program there. We ended up staying closer to home than we’d originally planned, which meant we could still see each other regularly.

Lauren finished her nursing degree and got a job at Detroit Medical Center, working her way up to the ICU. That’s actually how Becky and Lauren became friends. They work at the same hospital, though in different departments. Lauren met her husband Ryan there too. He’s a physical therapist who runs the PT department. They live in Warren now, just a twenty-minute drive from my place in Troy.

I still get together with Lauren frequently and talk to her by phone almost every day. She still serves as my closest confidante. To this day, she’s closer to me than my own sister.

Naturally, when everything hit the fan with Becky, Lauren was the first person I called. She sympathized with me and shared my anger at Becky’s betrayal. But she also provided counterpoint advice to my boss Joe, who was urging me to go for Becky’s throat in the divorce.

The defining moment came about three weeks after Becky left. I’d hired the lawyer Joe had suggested and had met with him several times to go over my priorities and concerns. If he was going to represent me in the divorce, he needed to understand that my primary concern was the girls. I wanted custody. I was sure this was going to be one of the biggest areas of conflict between Becky and me.

The prognosis he gave me wasn’t encouraging. The local courts were notorious for favoring the mother in custody disputes. It didn’t matter if the father was actively involved in caring for the children. If the mother was fit, she was typically awarded custody. It seemed the best I could hope for was a generous visitation schedule.

The other alternative he gave me was to get nasty and drag Becky through the mud. My only hope of getting custody was to completely destroy her reputation. If I wanted a shot at being awarded custody, I’d have to make her out to be a totally unfit mother. He was suggesting that I sue for divorce based on the affair and present every piece of evidence that Jen Chun had discovered. The idea was to show that Becky’s continuing relationship with Chun would put the girls at risk. He also wanted to allege that Becky had abandoned the girls by leaving the household.

In other words, to get any shot at custody, I’d have to destroy Becky’s relationship with the girls.

It was a sign of my desperation and mindset that I didn’t reject his idea out of hand. But I told him I’d think about it.

I was having lunch with Lauren at Tony’s Diner, a little place near the Ford plant where a lot of us grab a bite when we’re working late shifts. I was gloomily telling her about the lawyer’s strategy. It wasn’t that the idea of destroying Becky sounded appealing. I was uncomfortable with it, but I didn’t see a choice. I really didn’t want to get the girls involved, but my war with Becky had deteriorated to the point where I felt I needed to fight her on this just because I knew she wanted custody. I wasn’t thinking about what was right or wrong anymore, just about how to beat her.

Thank God Lauren was there to set me straight.

“Have you had enough yet?” she asked tartly, her voice dripping with annoyance.

“What do you mean?” I replied defensively.

“This whole revenge thing you’ve got going. Don’t you think it’s time for you to grow up and get over this petty—”

I couldn’t help it. I put on my best whiny child’s voice. “But she started it.”

Lauren groaned and rolled her eyes. “Oh no, not this time. You’re not getting off the hook that easily. Look, Mike, I’ve sat here and listened to you bitch and moan for the last three weeks about Becky and what she did to you. Well, it’s time to grow up and get over it. Stop reacting and start thinking.”

It wasn’t until that point that I realized Lauren was being dead serious. I thought she was just kidding around, trying to get my mind off my troubles. Lauren looked at me with that no-nonsense expression I remembered from when we were kids, and I knew she was about to tell me I was being an idiot.

“Mike, I know you’re angry and you’re hurting. You have every right to be. Hell, I’m pissed at Becky too. But for God’s sake, don’t let your emotions push you into a corner you can’t get out of. I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to think about the future, not the past.”

I must have looked confused because she continued, her voice softer now.

“Look, just because your marriage is over doesn’t mean you have to destroy each other in the divorce. It’s not too late to change what your life will be like after this is all over. Think about it. How do you want to end up in a few years? Do you really want to end up a bitter mess like Joe? Do you really want to get to the point where you and Becky are at each other’s throats constantly?”

She leaned forward across the diner table. “I hate to tell you this, but that’s where you’re heading. The way you and Becky are acting, you’re almost at the point of no return. You’re both letting your anger control you, and it’s causing both of you to play hardball. If it doesn’t stop soon, you’ll end up hating each other, just like Joe hates his ex. If that happens, the only ones who are going to end up with any money at the end of your divorce are the lawyers.”

Her voice got even softer. “Besides, what about the girls? How is a nasty divorce going to affect them? How often does Joe get to see his kids?”

I shifted uncomfortably in the diner booth. Joe was lucky to see his son and daughter twice a year and was always complaining about the roadblocks his ex-wife threw up to make regular visits impossible.

Lauren must have seen the worry in my face as she continued gently. “Do you want that to happen to you? Hell, would you really want to do that to Becky either? If you trash her in the divorce the way this lawyer is asking you to, the only guaranteed result is that someone’s going to get hurt badly, and the most likely candidates are Sophie and Emma.”

She paused to let that sink in.

“There’s no way you’d be able to keep them from finding out what happened. A fight like this is going to force them to choose sides. They’re going to see you blaming Becky for the divorce, and then Becky’s going to try to get back at you and make you out to be the villain. There’s a good chance they’re going to end up hating someone, and they’re going to become pawns in this little war you have going on. It’s a lose-lose situation for everyone.”

Her eyes met mine. “When you told Becky that first night that the girls needed both parents, that might have been the last smart thing you said. Can’t you see what you and Becky are doing? This isn’t just about you and her. What about Sophie and Emma? They’re going to need both of you in the future.”

I stared at Lauren. She’d hit my weak spot, and she knew it. Accusing me of hurting the kids was the one sure way to get my attention. As she looked at my reaction, she nodded, satisfied. She’d given voice to the doubts I’d been feeling ever since I left the lawyer’s office.

“So what do you want me to do?” I demanded miserably. “Give up and let Becky have custody and hope she’s willing to give me visitation rights? It’s a no-win situation.”

Lauren shook her head. “There is another choice, but that attack-dog lawyer of yours doesn’t see it. All he knows how to do is fight and claw. Ryan’s been talking to a buddy of his who works in family court, and he asked if you’d considered shared custody. The courts will go for it if both parties are willing to work together.”

“I didn’t think you and Becky would have a chance at cooperating, but it’s got to start now. Call off this stupid feud before it’s too late. You need to take the first step and ask for a truce. Maybe if you two could sit down and discuss things like adults, you can come up with a solution you both can tolerate. You both love those girls to death, and you’re both good parents. If you two can manage to be civil to each other for a few hours, I think you can reach a solution.”

Lauren smiled. “After all, the one thing you two still agree on is the girls’ welfare. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, do it for them.”

I mumbled something about thinking about it. Her idea gave me hope I hadn’t had before, but I didn’t want to get too excited until I knew if it was a real possibility. At minimum, it was worth a call to my lawyer to find out more about shared custody.

Lauren had given me a lot to think about, so I tried to shift the rest of our conversation to something lighter. But Lauren wouldn’t let me. She wasn’t quite done meddling with my life. She’d just gotten warmed up.

“Ashley called the other day. She’s worried about you. The girls are worried about you. Hell, even Ryan is worried about you. When are you going to get your head out of your ass and stop moping around? You’re getting divorced, so what? Deal with it. It’s not the end of the world. You’ve got to get on with your life. Focus on the future and not the past. You’ve got to plan ahead.”

“What bright side?” I interrupted morosely.

“Well, for one thing, if you play your cards right, you’ll end up with more opportunities than you can imagine,” she stated bluntly.

I looked at her in amazement. She always could find a way to shock and surprise me, but this one came from left field. Sure, when we were younger, dating had been a frequent topic of conversation. She’d supported me in my first awkward attempts to understand the opposite sex. In a way, she’d been my guide in the strange and mysterious realm of relationships. She gave me practical advice on the types of things I could do to attract and keep a woman’s attention. I tried to do the same for her as she tried to understand guys, but we’d stopped playing that game by the time we were fifteen.

She’d done it again. First, she gave me a well-deserved kick in the ass for endangering my future with the girls. Now, she was giving me advice on dating. What’s next? Was she going to start arranging dates for me?

She noted my expression and smiled. “I figured that would get your attention,” she said dryly. “You’ve got to look at this as an opportunity. How many divorced women and single moms our age are there around here? How many guys do you know who’ve thrown away perfectly good marriages for some young thing? They’re all just waiting for someone like you.”

Lauren snorted in amusement. “Hell, some of them are champing at the bit. As soon as word got out about your split with Becky, I had a couple of my friends from the hospital ask me about you. Off the top of my head, I can give you half a dozen names of women who’d love to spend time with you.”

I must have looked doubtful because she shook her head in exasperation. “Don’t you get it? A lot of women are in the same boat as you. Their husbands cheated or they got dumped for some trophy wife. A lot of them are just looking for someone they can relate to, someone who knows what they went through, someone they can trust. You’re the answer to their prayers. You’re a trustworthy guy who might be in the market for a dependable woman. Not only that, you’re in good shape and you’re decent-looking.”

She laughed. “Give them half a chance and they’ll be lining up.”

I laughed with her, though it came out bitter. “Right. I’m such a catch. That’s why Becky decided she needed to go running off with David Chun. You’re full of it. I bet all your friends are just laughing at the guy who got played.”

Lauren just shook her head in mock disgust. “You stupid, stupid man. You’re wrong in so many different ways that it’s hard to know where to begin.”

She sighed dramatically. “All right, let’s start with the thing that’s obviously bothering you the most. Is your ego really that fragile? Do you honestly believe that everyone’s going to be laughing at you because Becky had an affair? Get over it. Not only do these women not care, half of them know exactly what you’re going through. Believe me, they’ve probably gone through worse self-image problems than you ever will.”

She continued, “I hate to burst your bubble, Mike, but chances are sex had nothing to do with why Becky had her affair. Did she ever complain about that aspect of your relationship? Unlike guys, most women don’t have affairs just because they’re looking for something different in bed. There’s usually some other reason that gets the ball rolling, and the physical stuff is a result, not the cause.”

Lauren pointed to her head, then her chest, then gestured downward with a smirk. “So don’t get all worried about whether Becky left you because you were inadequate. This has nothing to do with your ability to satisfy a woman. Hell, if you remembered half the stuff I told you about when we were younger, you’re better than most guys. For what it’s worth, I’m almost positive you’re better than a self-centered jerk like Chun.”

She leaned forward. “You may not be some romantic hero, but who says you have to be? The women you’re going to be interested in are much more interested in what’s up here—she pointed to her head—and here—she pointed to her chest—than what you’re packing down there. You have nothing to worry about.”

“I love you, twin, but sometimes you can be thick as a brick. What the hell do you really think these women are looking for? Do you honestly believe they’re just looking for some quick roll in the hay? Women our age are looking for more than that. They want someone nice, someone they can feel comfortable being with. They want someone who’s interested in them as a whole person, not just as a toy to use and discard. They want a little romance and someone to make them feel better about themselves.”

She smiled. “You fit the bill on all counts. You’re a nice guy, clean, honest, dependable. You have a good job, and you’re usually somewhat intelligent. You can even manage to hold up your end of a conversation. That’s why my friends want to meet you. If you turn out to be good in bed, that’s just a bonus.”

Lauren went on, her voice getting more intense. “No one’s going to think less of you because Becky left you. Hell, the hardest part is going to be keeping a date from turning into a trash-talking session about your exes. If you tell them about what happened, all they’ll think is that Becky was a fool for cheating on you and a fool for letting you go. And they’d be right.”

Lauren stated bluntly, “Becky’s a fool. She’s going to figure it out before too long. The best part is, if you really want to make her pay, you don’t have to do anything but be yourself. She may not know it yet, but I’ll bet you a case of beer that she’s going to be miserable in a few years.”

Her pep talk had raised my spirits a little, and I definitely perked up at her last statement. She noticed and gave an evil little chuckle as she leaned forward.

“Think about it. She was jealous and suspicious of you just for hiring a young female engineer. How is she going to deal with a sleazeball that she knows will go out and cheat on his wife? It’s only a matter of time before he cheats on her too, and she knows it. She gave you up for fool’s gold.”

She grinned. “So you see, you don’t have to make yourself miserable in the divorce to pay her back. If you really want to make her regret what she did, just go on with your life and be yourself. You can afford to be civil to her because you’re set to have your cake and eat it too. You might get through this divorce and actually have some fun with your life.”

I took a few minutes to think in silence, staring out the diner window at the traffic on Michigan Avenue. Then a darker thought came to me.

“Okay, Lauren, I heard everything you had to say. I understand all the nice thoughts and all the welfare-for-the-daughters thing. Now tell me something. What happens when my daughters find out why we’re getting divorced? Hold on—let me rephrase that for better clarity. What happens when my daughters find out the truth? I repeat, the truth. That their mother cheated on their father.”

Lauren was silent for a moment.

“Just as I thought—you don’t have an answer. Let me tell you what will happen. They’ll feel bad. They’ll be sad. They’re still young for it. But I definitely want to explain what happened between us eventually. She didn’t just cheat on me. She cheated on the father of her daughters. She walked out on the family. So she deserves what’s coming to her. In fact, I’ll make sure that all our family members and friends on both sides know the truth.”

I was getting worked up, my voice rising.

“You said I’ll end up hating my cheating wife. Well, why should I feel different? She cheated on me. Why show sympathy or fake emotion when you can show your true feelings? Do you want to tell me that a man has to pretend he doesn’t hate her? Just like love, hate is a pure emotion. After all she did to me, she’ll get my purest emotions. Besides, I will fight for custody of my kids. She played games. Now it’s time to pay.”

Lauren remained silent, stirring her coffee slowly.

“Now, my last question. You stated that my daughters need their mother. I agree they need a mother, but is my cheating wife the best option for them? Just because she gave birth to them, nursed them, and took care of them until now, is she the best for them? How do I accept that an immoral cheating woman who walked out of the marriage is a great example for them? What will my daughters learn from her? Cheat, get divorced, take the kids, take money from the ex-husband, and move on to the next guy? Tell me who will be a better example—a divorced father who exposed a cheating woman in court or a cheating woman who was sleeping with the father of three kids? Go ahead. I’m waiting for your answer.”

“I still think you should talk to your wife and try to think about the daughters,” Lauren said quietly.

***”Women. Are they all that naive, or is it me who has such bad luck with them?” I muttered as I threw some bills on the table and walked away.** *

—

## Part 5: Point of No Return – The Nuclear Option

*Climax: “In the end, I got what I thought I wanted.”*

The next morning, I called my lawyer.

“I’ll go with the nuclear option you gave me. We’ll destroy her and fight for full custody. Yeah, I’ll call you once I’m ready to move forward.”

“That’s all we needed to hear,” he said. “I’ll start preparing the paperwork.”

Five days later, I had shared all the evidence with every person who knew us via an email titled *The Truth About Becky’s Affair*.

I got a lot of calls. Lauren called too.

“Did that satisfy your ego?”

“Yeah, it did. Now that everyone knows her true colors, I’m happy.”

“Did you talk to the daughters?”

“Well, I tried to explain what their mother did, but I couldn’t tell them everything. I just told them their mother wanted to replace me with someone else.”

“What was their reaction?” Lauren asked.

“They were angry. They said they’d never let anyone replace me.”

“Didn’t Becky call you after this?”

“Oh yes. She’s been calling non-stop. She’s even sent me threatening messages. Her jerk lover also called and tried to get nasty with me. I told him to go screw himself.”

We both laughed, though Lauren sounded forced.

“I’m sorry. I just thought things could work between you two. I was just thinking about the daughters. I didn’t have any intention of hurting you,” she said.

“I don’t get hurt anymore, Lauren. I just need to get ready for the fight that’s waiting for me in court.”

A month later, I was standing in front of Judge Carlson in Wayne County Family Court.

“That email you sent out was not in good faith, Mr. Sullivan,” Judge Carlson remarked disapprovingly. “I do not approve of it. It seems like you wanted to tarnish your wife’s image publicly.”

I was silent.

“Do you want to say something about that, Mr. Sullivan?”

“I just wanted people to know the truth, Your Honor. I hope exposing the truth isn’t a crime.”

“But trying to share private images of people engaged in intimate behavior crosses a line,” Judge Carlson began.

“All the images shared were blurred in the appropriate places so as not to expose anyone inappropriately,” I replied.

The back and forth continued for the next eight months—court hearings, depositions, mediation attempts that went nowhere. Becky’s lawyer tried to paint me as vindictive and controlling. My lawyer painted her as an unfit mother who’d abandoned her family for an affair.

***In the end, I got what I thought I wanted.** *

—

## Part 6: Hollow Victory – The Price to Pay

*Ending: “Most days I just focus on work and the girls. It’s enough.”*

Now my daughters are with me full-time. Becky is free. I am free. And I also get to keep the house, at least for the time being. She does have visitation rights every other weekend and Wednesday evenings. I hate it when she comes to pick up the daughters. The daughters hate it too. They’ve made that clear. I try my best to make her feel unwelcome every time she comes around. Just to add insult to injury, I always make sure to be particularly unpleasant when she’s near me.

Five months after our divorce was finalized, David got divorced as well. Jen really took him to the cleaners in court. Financially speaking, he was broken, thrown out of his house, and now has to pay substantial alimony and child support. I found out through the hospital grapevine that David broke it off with Becky a month after his divorce was final. David blamed her for his divorce, and then things got ugly between them. Word is things got physical before it was over.

Becky is living in a small apartment in Southfield now and paying me child support. She’s tried on many occasions to reconcile—not romantically, but just to have a civil relationship for the girls’ sake. I shut her down before she can even start. My unpleasant behavior has its intended effect.

My relationship with Lauren took a major hit. I don’t get along with her like I used to before our last serious conversation. I don’t know why, but I feel it’s best if I stay away from her and keep my daughters away as well. She represents that soft, forgiving side of me that I can’t afford to show anymore.

The girls are doing okay, I guess. Emma’s grades have slipped a bit, and Sophie’s been having some behavioral issues at school. They both see the court-appointed counselor once a week. They don’t talk much about their mother anymore, which I suppose is for the best.

Ashley left Ford about six months after the divorce. She said the atmosphere had become too tense with everyone knowing the details of my personal life. She got a better job at GM anyway, so it worked out for her. I miss having her around. She was one of the few people who didn’t look at me with either pity or judgment.

Joe’s been trying to set me up with women from the plant, but I’m not interested. Lauren was wrong about the dating scene, either that or I’m too bitter to notice the opportunities. ***Most days I just focus on work and the girls. It’s enough.** *

—

The End.