"I'm Not Asking Permission," Wife Said After Her Open Marriage Revealed

Story one.

I'm not asking for permission, Jack. I'm telling you this is how it's going to be from now on. I've been a good wife for 23 years. We've raised two good kids, and I'm tired of living a humdrum existence. I want some excitement. I want some thrills before I'm too old to enjoy them. I'm still fairly young, and I want to step out and enjoy life before I'm too old to bother.

Jackson Merriman's wife, Natalie, was still talking in the background about how their newly opened marriage was going to be a good thing for both of them. Jack sat at the kitchen table making mental notes while sipping a small glass of Jameson's Irish whiskey, weighed down by heavier thoughts. He thought, for maybe the hundredth time, that the whiskey was remarkably smooth. The Scots believed they had the best, but his vote went to the Irish. He finished his glass and poured himself another. He checked in on his wife's discussion, heard more of the same, and hoped the look on his face was sincere enough.

It was a Tuesday evening, and several minutes ago Natalie had told him, not asked, not discussed, that they were going to open their marriage after more than two decades of fidelity. They were both going to be free to date other people without consequence, and she was going to start that very weekend by going away with her boss of the last 2 years, a smug 32-year-old who seemed to believe every woman was lining up for his attention.

"So, you're telling me this open marriage thing is just a way for you to be with another man. How long have you been planning this?"

"I haven't been planning it. But, when Greg heard we were going to open up our marriage, he asked if he could be first. And, well,"

"Right. Like I was born yesterday. You decide on your own to open our marriage, and before you even tell me the news, you've already got a weekend lined up with another man."

"What can I say? He works fast."

At that point, Jack's mind started slipping in and out of the lecture. He wondered how long it would take to find a good attorney. He wondered how long it would take to divide up the finances. He also wondered about Marilyn Carmichael, the divorced woman in his office who had been warm and flirtatious with him at the last Christmas party. She had been cheeky enough to put her cell number into his phone, telling him to call if he ever found himself free, and Jack knew he had never erased it. If asked, Jack would have said he was more sad than angry about what he considered the end of his marriage. But if Marilyn was willing to play along, then maybe he was willing to play along, too. On the surface, at least, while his own plan slowly took shape.

Jack hadn't heard a word Natalie had said in the last few minutes, but the talking was still going, so he assumed she hadn't finished. He stood, put the whiskey bottle back in his liquor cabinet, smiled at his wife, picked up his car keys, and headed for the door.

"Wait, I'm still talking. Where are you going?"

Jack gave no indication he had heard a word and closed the door behind him. Natalie watched him go in confusion, then picked up her phone and called her best friend, Liz Stevens. Seeing Natalie's name, Liz skipped the greeting entirely.

"Is he crying in a corner, or did he start screaming and threaten divorce?" The girls were split five to five on those two. Did anyone vote for him asking a couple of quiet questions, going silent, and then just leaving? Because that's what he did. He didn't say yes, no, or anything at all. He poured himself a drink, got up, and left the house. It was bizarre, almost scary, how calm he was.

Jack came home about 2 hours later, seemingly in an upbeat mood, his wife thought. She had no way of knowing that he had spent that time on the phone with Marilyn Carmichael, explaining that Natalie had opened their marriage, and asking if she wanted to be the first date on what he wryly called his tour of the dating world.

"I'm glad you kept my number, and even gladder you're calling me first. I won't disappoint you, I promise."

Jack was more than pleased with his pivot from sadness and sorrow to sadness and resolve.

"That was incredibly rude of you, leaving in the middle of our discussion. Do you have any questions? Anything you need me to explain better?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were still talking. Honestly, I stopped listening after you said you were opening our marriage. There were just a lot of things going through my head I had to work out." Natalie studied her husband's face and could see no anger in it. She was more than a little confused.

"You understood what I told you, right? Communication is a key part of this for both of us."

"I got it. You're bored with me after 23 years, and you want to spice up your life by seeing other men."

"That's right. But, by opening our marriage, that means you also get to date other women. You can spice things up, too."

"I wasn't bored, and I had no real desire to spice anything up. So, I guess I'll just play it by ear. I'll only say this, the survival rate for marriages that get opened isn't good."

"There are just as many studies that say the numbers are fine."

"If you say so, but I'll warn you, I'm old-fashioned. Everything has consequences. Sometimes an apology doesn't heal things."

"We'll be fine as long as we communicate."

"You mean the way we communicated tonight?" Natalie decided that not answering was the wiser choice. Although he didn't show it, Jack was devastated. He considered her announcement the end of what he had believed was a good marriage. Early in their relationship, the two had agreed that infidelity would be a one-time unforgivable thing. Now, Natalie was casually proposing to bring other people in.

For the next 2 days, the Merriman house felt like a tomb. They lived together, ate together, and otherwise barely spoke. Then, on Friday morning, Jack noticed the small overnight bag sitting by the garage door. "You're really going to do this? Despite the fact that we both agreed on fidelity? Despite the vows we made in front of family and friends? Despite knowing there might be consequences, I'm asking you not to do this."

"Don't be such a drama queen, Jackson. I love you. You love me. This will be good for us. Trust me."

It was Jack's turn to grimace. As had been the pattern all week, he did not kiss his wife goodbye when he left for work. He went home after work mostly to confirm she was gone for the weekend. When he found the house empty, he knew he wouldn't have to cancel his reservation at the steakhouse.

Marilyn Carmichael was warm and radiant when Jack arrived at her door at 6:30. They had a wonderful meal, spent an hour dancing at a club, and finished the night with dessert and drinks. Jack was very aware of how easy her company was, how naturally the conversation flowed, how much he had missed simply being enjoyed by someone. The evening ended back at Jack's house, and Jack didn't feel a flicker of guilt as the night unfolded. The connection between them was easy and undeniable, and they fell asleep tangled together, both of them happier than either had expected to be.

Jack woke the next morning to find Marilyn smiling at him. He felt like cheering. If he was being honest with himself, it had been a long time since he'd woken up like that. "Wow, I feel wonderful. This open marriage thing may turn out as good as my wife said it would."

Jack's wife might have agreed with him at the start of the previous evening. She and Greg had enjoyed a fine meal and dancing, but after that, the night had been merely fine. Not the fireworks she had been promised. For 2 months, Greg had flirted relentlessly, and the other women in her office had described him as some kind of romantic prodigy. With that kind of build-up, Natalie had honestly expected starbursts and a marching band. She wondered what had happened, and whether he was simply off his game. They still had another day. It certainly couldn't be her. Jack had always raved about her. And then she realized with a small jolt that this was the first time she had thought about her husband since leaving the house the previous morning.

Marilyn didn't hesitate when Jack asked her to spend Saturday with him as well. Wearing one of Jack's t-shirts, she made breakfast for the two of them, and Jack found himself feeding her pancakes, the way he had once fed his own children. They laughed their way through the meal. He took her to a winery one town over for wine tasting and a charcuterie board. Marilyn got the hiccups and went pink with embarrassment, and Jack thought it was the most charming thing he'd seen in years.

"That's adorable. You're pretty wonderful, you know that? I know I'm supposed to be dating all sorts of women in this open marriage arrangement, but could I instead just reserve you for date nights? At least most of the time?" Marilyn's face lit up. When Jack dropped her at her apartment on Sunday morning, she felt invigorated. What had begun as a date with a man she once thought was out of reach had turned into a dream of a weekend with the real possibility of something lasting. She wondered whether his wife could really be this foolish.

Jack was wondering the very same thing. Until that week, he had never once considered stepping outside his vows. Now he was already looking forward to the next time he could see Marilyn, though she had only left his house 2 hours earlier.

Natalie had to resist the urge to bolt from Greg's car when he pulled into her driveway on Sunday afternoon. The weekend had been fine. She had expected far more than fine. She gave Greg a quick peck on the cheek, grabbed her bag, and walked into her home, more relieved than anything. She knew she'd have to embellish the story later. She would never admit to Jack that the weekend had been anything less than amazing.

"Have a good weekend? Was it everything you hoped for?" Natalie was put out that he hadn't risen to greet her warmly, the way he always had. She had been hoping for some comfort. Apparently, he wasn't over it yet. Still, his tone wasn't unkind.

"It was a really good weekend. Greg's a great guy. We had a good time."

"That's good. It would be a shame to put our marriage in jeopardy for nothing." Jack's eyes were on the television, but from the corner of his vision, he caught his wife's grimace.

"Come on, Jack. Let it go. You know we love each other. You're not going to throw away 23 years over something that doesn't really mean anything."

"When did it stop meaning anything to you? Connection with someone you love is never nothing."

"You're twisting my words."

"I'm not. You said exactly what you meant. You just want to have it both ways."

"Let's not fight. So, what did you do this weekend?"

Jack had known the question was coming. "I had a date Friday night, too. Do you remember Marilyn Carmichael from my office?" Natalie's eyes went wide, then narrowed. She remembered the woman who had been so warm with her husband at the office Christmas party.

"You went out with her? Isn't she a little young for you?"

"Probably not much younger than Greg. And I didn't embarrass myself."

"Whatever." Natalie walked out of the room. Jack did not volunteer anything more about his weekend.

Two weeks later, Natalie announced she would be going on another date the following Friday. Jack had to work to keep from looking pleased.

"Just Friday?"

"Just Friday. I'm not going to do whole weekends. That one with Greg was an exception. You almost sound disappointed. Did you have plans?"

"I didn't, but if you're going out, I guess I will, too."

Her date was with a man named Gustavo Tavares, tall, athletic, confident, an assistant vice president at a telecommunications company she'd met on a girls' night out. He was charming over dinner. It was after 2:00 in the morning when Natalie pulled her car into the garage. The evening had started well enough, but as the night wore on, Gustavo had revealed himself to be a different kind of man than the charming one at the restaurant. Selfish, rough, careless of whether she was comfortable, and entirely indifferent to anything she actually wanted. By the end of the night, Natalie felt small and disrespected, treated as though her feelings simply didn't register. The experience had crossed well past her comfort, and she left feeling diminished in a way that genuinely unsettled her. She showered for a long time when she got home. Jack appeared to be asleep when she crept into the bedroom, though in truth he was lying awake, aware of how late she'd come in and how long the shower had run.

The next morning, Natalie came downstairs looking exhausted and subdued, nursing a headache at the kitchen table. Jack, who had just finished mowing the lawn, took one look at her and quietly went to the bathroom, returning to set a cup of fresh coffee in front of her without a word. She looked from the cup to him and whispered a thank you.

"Rough night?" She was too embarrassed to answer and never asked about his. Jack wasn't offended. He didn't ask about hers, either. His own evening with Marilyn had been a meal and a movie, easy laughter and a calm, contented night. He hadn't felt a moment of guilt. When the two of them headed upstairs to bed a little after midnight, Jack asked, already knowing the answer, "So, I don't suppose you'd be up for anything tonight? You look like you've had a hard couple of days. Are you ready to end this whole thing now?" His wife glared at him and said nothing. But Natalie did not end it.

Two weeks later, she went out again, and over the following months, the dates continued. She told herself they were adventures. She dated widely, a great variety of men of all kinds. There was plenty of novelty in it. But if she had been honest with herself, there was very little she actually treasured. Date after date, the men were forgettable, the connection thin, the mornings after a little emptier than the last.

Liz Stevens always devoured the retelling of Natalie's dates over Monday lunch. She admired Natalie's nerve and said often that she could never do such a thing herself. Months earlier, Natalie had explained her approach.

"You just tell him you're going to do it, and then you do it. I didn't ask Jack. I didn't negotiate. I told him, and then I did it. I gave him the same option, so he can't say it was one-sided. He went out a few times early on, I think, but I haven't heard him mention it lately."

In fact, Jack only mentioned his dating when Natalie asked him directly. She had assumed he was sampling different women the way she was sampling men. But in recent months, he was almost always home and asleep by the time she returned. And she had begun to assume he simply went out drinking with friends on her date nights.

Seven months after Natalie opened the marriage, the house had gone all but silent. The two of them lived more like roommates than a couple of more than two decades. The small affections, the cuddling on the sofa, the quiet words, the easy touches, had all quietly disappeared, replaced by one-word exchanges. On the rare evening Natalie wasn't on her phone arranging the next date, she noticed how quiet the house had become, and wondered whether Jack noticed, too. If he did, he never said.

"So, if the dates aren't any better than what you had with Jack, why are you still doing it? I enjoy living through your stories, but it almost feels like I'm getting more out of this than you are. Do you really think Jack's going to welcome you back with open arms when you stop? Hasn't he had a taste of something else of his own? You had a good thing. What if it's all changed?"

"You know I wouldn't have done this without thinking it through. But the biggest thing in my favor is that I know Jack loves me. Even hurt, he's a good man, and he'll suck it up for the sake of our marriage."

"I hope you're right. My husband Bill has met Jack a few times over the years. He likes him, and he thinks you're making a mistake assuming Jack will forgive everything just because he doesn't lose his temper easily. Nice doesn't mean doormat."

"You're right. I'm sure he'll be the happiest man alive when I stop. And I will, soon. We really do need to reconnect."

A few nights later, over another quiet dinner, Natalie told Jack she wanted to close the marriage and the open arrangement. She expected, if not a cheer of joy, at least a warm and grateful response.

"No."

"No? No what?"

"No, I'm not going to close the marriage. I've been enjoying it open. I think we should keep it that way until the divorce."

Natalie was halfway to a reply about the open marriage when the last word landed.

"Wait. Divorce? Why?"

"Do you really have to ask? You decided on your own to open our marriage and spent more than half a year seeing other men. You didn't care what I thought. 23 years, Natalie. This should have been something we decided together."

"But you've been enjoying it, too. You went out with that woman from your office. You've done exactly the same things I have."

"And I have enjoyed it. I'm still enjoying it. The open marriage showed me something I didn't expect, that I genuinely enjoy the company of someone who isn't you. You were the one person who was supposed to protect my heart, and you didn't. So, I learned to rely on someone else. Just one someone, actually."

"You've fallen for her."

Jack made no effort to deny it. "You'll be served papers tomorrow. I'll have it done at home, so you won't be embarrassed in front of your co-workers."

"I don't want a divorce. Can't we discuss this?"

"The way we discussed opening the marriage?"

"23 years, Jack. Next month would have been 24. How can you be so cavalier about that?"

"I'm not the one who decided I needed other people to be happy. I would have happily grown old with you, just you. But once you opened the marriage, I wasn't going to sit quietly in the corner. I decided to walk a path of my own. I can't claim I handled it perfectly, but I think, honestly, we were always going to end up here."

"The kids, they're going to be so upset."

"I'll talk to them tonight."

"Tonight? Why are you rushing?"

"I'm not rushing. I just won't let this fester, and I won't give it time to turn into a story that isn't true. I don't trust you to tell it straight."

"I suppose I can see why."

The Merriman's children, 21-year-old Marcy and 19-year-old Alan, were both stunned when their father told them over a video call that he and their mother were divorcing. When Alan asked why, Jack was honest. "Your mother decided we needed an open marriage so she could see other men. I wasn't happy about it, but instead of just sitting there and taking it, I decided I could live by those rules, too. The difference is, I found I wanted to stop having an open marriage by stopping the marriage. No matter what else happened, I was going to divorce her. The only surprise is that I may have found someone else along the way."

"No chance of working it out, Dad?"

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. When your wife of 23 years tells you she needs more out of life than you can give her, it knocks the wind out of you. There's no un-hearing it."

"I never would have expected Mom to do something like this."

"That makes two of us." Natalie was unable to slow the divorce, especially after the judge learned that she had opened the marriage over her husband's clear objection.

"Have you ever heard the old saying, 'Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it'?"

"But he was supposed to love me forever. I came back to him."

"Did you ever consider that you shouldn't have left him in the first place?"

Jack and Marilyn were engaged 6 months after the divorce was final and married 6 months after that. Both of Jack's children thought the timing was quick, but they had to admit to each other and to their father that Marilyn loved him completely, the way their mother once had. In time and to the quiet dismay of their mother, both of them grew close to their stepmother.

"She's a really good person, Mom. And she loves Dad to the moon and back. How can we not like her? I know you don't see it, but it's not a you versus her thing. You gave Dad up. I don't think she's going to make the same mistake."

Marilyn had hoped to have a child with Jack, but it wasn't to be. With nothing holding them in place, the two decided instead to spend their years traveling the world. The thrill of dating, Natalie admitted to Liz several months later, simply wasn't there anymore. As a single woman, it had lost the charge it had carried when she was married. And as for finding someone worth keeping, someone who could measure up to what Jack had been, she wasn't sure she ever would.

"I gambled and I lost. I was an idiot, Liz."

"You don't hear me arguing."

Natalie never lacked for company, but the men she found exciting were never the men she could imagine building a life with. And the men she could imagine building a life with never excited her. She had traded something whole for something thin, and she never quite found her way back to whole again. Jack, for his part, often told people he considered himself a very lucky man. That he had never expected to find someone who could fill the space Natalie left when she ended their marriage. And yet, somehow, he had. "My life could have gone so wrong. How did I get so lucky? And so fast?" Marilyn answered him with a kiss, and there were tears in her eyes when she did.

Story two.

North Dakota is not the place I would select as a travel destination for anyone in early December. Still, as an arbitrator, you go to the site the parties have chosen. I had been on the National Arbitration Panel for 14 years, almost from the day I graduated from law school. I started filling in for a prominent New York City firm of arbitrators doing consumer auto repair cases. I worked my way up to major corporate contract disputes. Thankfully, Bismarck was enjoying clear, sunny weather at this point in the season. The arbitration was for two of the nation's largest manufacturers, neither of which did business in North Dakota. The site selection was almost certainly due to the desire to litigate post-arbitration in the North Dakota courts. The leading states for these major corporate arbitrations are New York, the commercial capital, and Delaware, the state with the most incorporations. Either state would provide a swift resolution of any post-arbitration litigation. At least one party, however, was depending on me making the kind of mistakes that would require review, and had chosen the place with less experience in handling these cases. It was not my place to criticize, but to make no appealable errors. I was paid exceptionally well to travel to North Dakota in winter and let the parties put forward their cases. I didn't worry about which court would be looking over my shoulder.

Things went extraordinarily well the first day, but as I went to open my hearing the following morning, the parties informed me they had settled the matter overnight.

"So, we're done?" A group of smiling lawyers confirmed that it was so. I thought it a bit of a waste of time, but nothing I could complain about since they handed me a large check for services I had barely provided. I then had the opportunity to get home early. This was a real boon since I had left my 17-year-old daughter in charge of the house and her 13-year-old brother. Trinity was a very mature girl for her age, but her brother Mark was your average teen male, full of himself and a bit of mischief. Shifting the parental duties onto Trinity was unfair and I rarely did so. Still, the Bismarck arbitration was a rare bit of work and my wife Sabrina was traveling for work as usual. She worked as a model in an agency she ran with her mother. I never complained about Sabrina being out of town for work, even during the holidays. Our 17 years of marriage had been filled with many hardships. From the first, my wife never complained and was out chasing employment to pay the rent and put food on the table while I made my way through law school. Only recently did my income reach a point where it could support us and it was still not close to the high six figures that Sabrina brought in from her career.

Now, I know you are doing the math. Yes, Trinity was born only 2 months after the wedding. My wife was very pregnant on our wedding day. She had in fact turned me down when I first proposed. It was only later that she reluctantly relented. That wasn't because we didn't love each other. We started as friends. It was the only relationship a shy, awkward guy like me could have with the most striking girl at New York University. NYU is the largest private university in the nation and is home to a renowned drama and film school. Sabrina's undisputed designation as the most beautiful young woman on campus made her out of my reach as anything but a friend. Sabrina Hayes was a drama and film major. She had the talent to go with her beauty. Still, in hindsight, she lacked the killer determination for success at any cost that seemed required for a film career. I believe Sabrina had the loving heart that made for a great mother and wife, but not a film star. Even so, if you saw her perform, you would agree that her talent was outstanding. People said I followed Sabrina around NYU and New York in general like her puppy dog. Perhaps they were right. But the puppy was a pit bull. I was Sabrina's friend, but I saw myself as more her protector in many ways. If we were at a party and a fellow came off as too aggressive, I was there to show him the value of gentlemanly manners. I was a good student, but poor in the cash department. I earned my pocket money working in the local gym giving instruction on boxing, my sport, and judo, my passion. At 6 ft plus and broad of shoulder, few challenged me outside a refereed match. Sabrina and I met in a student dramatic performance. I was the director's friend and he dragooned me into playing the athlete neighbor part. Sabrina had the title role. A friendship blossomed and Sabrina, maybe out of sympathy for the raggedy shy gym rat, would take me along to the parties and social events she attended. Walking beside Sabrina into a gathering is an experience you could not forget. Every head turned her way. Everyone wanted to interact with her, even if it was just a word in passing or an exchange of smiles. She was constantly pursued and had numerous boyfriends, including a football star. I was more envious than jealous, and I ached for Sabrina to recognize me as more than just a friend. Finally, two years of seeing each other led to a relationship based more on being soulmates than anything else. Eventually, we became a married couple with a child. Sabrina's reluctance to wed came more from a fear that I might not be the natural father of Trinity than a lack of love. Since Sabrina had a line of boyfriends and was often pursued by more than one at a time, paternity was in question.

"It wouldn't be fair. You could have regrets later."

"What isn't fair, Sabrina, is for you not to believe I will always love you and our child, no matter what. If you love me, you will trust in me." In marrying me and settling down into marriage and motherhood, Sabrina gave up a lifestyle that very much suited her. She was, at heart, an exhibitionist and a party girl. I knew she regretted our more sedate life, but she threw herself into being a great mother and wife. Being married to a woman as attractive as Sabrina had its problems. I am not, by nature, a jealous man, but when we were out together, she was often the target of attention from other men. Most of this was unwanted, and I am large enough and formidable enough to protect my wife from pushy admirers who don't seem to understand the words, "No, I'm married." However, Sabrina had a way of drawing the attention of men far more attractive and successful than I, and they were often subtle, charming, and not that easy to discourage. Nevertheless, here we were over 17 years later with a house in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn, two great kids, and what I believed was a bright future and a happy ever after ending.

I hit the hotel in Bismarck at a run and was at the airport by 10:00 in the morning, only to be told there were no flights east due to the weather. The young woman at my airline's counter was very sympathetic.

"Even if I were to get you to Minneapolis, I don't think you could get out. As strange as it seems, Bismarck is sunny, but the eastern United States is under snow emergency conditions."

I had already checked out of my hotel and was facing a search for a room or a night stuck in the airport. Bismarck International was then a single structure affair overdue for renovation. It wasn't a place I would willingly spend the night, but the young lady had a solution.

"One of the carriers has a regular flight to Las Vegas. You can fly there, and we will book you on our first flight from Las Vegas to LaGuardia in the morning. You can always get a room in Vegas for the night, and I can almost guarantee that while the flights from Minneapolis or Chicago will be delayed tomorrow, the flights from Vegas will not."

I thanked her and she booked me a flight to Las Vegas. 90 minutes later, I was boarding a flight west for a 3-hour trip. As I took my seat, a familiar voice greeted me.

"Fancy meeting arbitrator Samuel Patrick on his way to Las Vegas when he lives in New York."

"It was Chase Bennett, one of the attorneys in my arbitration. I could say the same. Don't you live in Texas?"

"Yes. But the end-of-year meeting of the National Trial Lawyers Association is being held in Las Vegas this week. I thought I would miss it, but now I have tomorrow and the weekend free."

We were seated together since we had both booked late, and it was not a huge plane.

"So, is that why you settled? Oh, no. The other side cave when they got a look at you. You didn't see enough evidence to know how weak their case was. Their mission here was to confuse you and the North Dakota courts enough to drag the case out another year or two. Yesterday, you proved just as sharp as your reputation. We could see they were nervous, so we swooped in and offered them payment terms and they threw their hands in."

"Well, good for everyone. I owe you a favor. Come to the trial lawyers party at the Bellagio. My firm has a suite. You're welcome to come as my plus one." I hesitated and he pressed the point. "Come on, there's no conflict. The case is settled. It's time to celebrate."

"Fine. It's something to do tonight, but I hope to have a flight home in the morning." With that decision, I unknowingly sealed my fate.

When we arrived in Las Vegas, Chase had a limo waiting to take us to the Bellagio casino hotel. He checked me into his firm's suite, which was in fact two adjoining suites. When he signed me in, the receptionist gave me a key and $200 in complimentary chips.

"Must be nice working at a rich firm."

"Nah, it's all show. We put up a front to build a reputation and gain business. Be careful with those complimentary chips. They're only good in the casino and are meant to suck you in so they can take your real money."

We had left Bismarck around noon, but gained two hours going west. By the time we checked in at the hotel and dropped the bags at the suite, it was only 2:00 in the afternoon. Chase went off to find his partners and I took a shower and called home, leaving a message saying I would be home the following evening with any luck. Then, I took a nap. Chase woke me up just after 6:00.

"There was a big dinner event going on in the main ballroom. It's not the big end-of-year dinner. That's tomorrow night. Tonight's the buffet and dancing. But everybody will be there."

I put on my best suit, realizing that the poor arbitrator would look slightly shabby compared to the high-end attorneys. When we got to the ballroom, I appreciated that I didn't need to worry about my dress. The room was filled with people in everything from shorts and sundresses to tuxedos and ballgowns. It was an eclectic crowd, but the room had a hierarchy. Some of the country's wealthiest and most successful attorneys were in that room. Chase had just grabbed our drinks and found seats at one of his firm's tables when he exclaimed,

"There's Charles Whitfield from San Francisco, one of the top five attorneys on the West Coast. And he's got Sabrina Hayes with him."

He whispered her name like it belonged to some larger-than-life creature. I turned to see what had affected Chase so much. The coincidence of names amused me until I saw the tall, blonde woman in an elegant black dress. She was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman in the room. A man at least a decade and a half older than her 38 years had his arm tightly around her waist, and she was leaning into his embrace as if happy to be there. Charles Whitfield was a renowned litigator, one of America's great trial attorneys. He was no more than average height, and he was not handsome. Still, the splendor of his companion, Sabrina Hayes, also known as Mrs. Samuel Patrick, my wife, made him seem far more impressive. I stood paralyzed as my wife of 17 years melded her body into another man's embrace. Chase was still mumbling, awestruck.

"She is something. I first saw her 5 years ago at one of these affairs. That was right after Charles's messy divorce from his first wife. When I saw her, I knew he didn't regret losing wife number one. I was sure she would be number two. But he's never gotten a ring on her finger." At that moment, she leaned in to whisper something in Charles' ear that made him smile and hug her closer. They were the alpha couple, greeting people as they made their way through the room.

I can't think of a reason why Charles hasn't put a ring on her finger after all this time. I sure would have if she weren't so far out of the league of mere mortals. I can think of a reason. She was already married and had been for the last 17 years. As to why my wife was here cuddling in public with another man, I had no idea. My chest had tightened. A dull ache was forming by my heart. Still, I could appreciate her beauty, her elegance, and the overpowering presence she projected. I was intensely proud of my wife. I always had been. However, now I was hurt and humiliated. She was supposed to be in California doing a photo shoot, not in Las Vegas on the arm of another man. I couldn't help but look around me. Did anyone else know my wife was here betraying our marriage? The crowd was as blissfully ignorant of the truth as Chase. The couple was surrounded by a crowd of people meeting and greeting. It was clear they were VIPs in a room full of high-end advocates and those angling to step into the top tier with them. The room began to settle down as the buffet tables opened. The hotel arranged to serve the group in sections, starting at the center and working to the sides and back. Charles and Sabrina went with the first group. When Sabrina wasn't attached to Charles, she was surrounded by a group of equally elegant women. I thought about pushing my way into the group and confronting her, but I realized it would probably just get me thrown out. As the guests were led to the buffet tables, I kept my eyes on my wife. She appeared totally at ease without any care or concern. Here she was using her maiden name, partnering with a man not her husband, as if her home and family didn't exist. I didn't go to the buffet, but I waited for an opening. Finally, I got my chance when Sabrina and a small group of women rose from her table and began walking toward the ballroom exit. I assumed they were headed to the restrooms in the corridor. I got up and quickly moved to a nearby exit intent on intercepting her. The background noise of the ballroom faded as I reached the corridor. I raced to intercept her as she exited through a farther door. Her party turned and headed for a nearby ladies room. I managed to get within 5 ft of Sabrina just as the lead woman entered.

"Sabrina." At first, she didn't acknowledge her name, but then she stopped, waved to her companions to go ahead, and turned to me. She came within 2 ft and spoke quietly.

"Samuel, I don't know what you are doing here, but you need to leave. I'll see you at home Sunday evening."

With that, she made to turn away, but I wasn't to be dismissed that easily.

"No, you need to tell me what's going on here."

"Nothing that is your concern. I'll be home Sunday as planned and I'll explain."

"You expect me to accept that when you have been draping yourself all over another man all evening?" She gave me a sympathetic look, but spoke in a firm voice.

"Samuel, you once told me I needed to trust you. Now it is your turn to trust me. Go home."

With that, she turned and entered the ladies room. I had been dismissed like a child, her puppy that she was sending home. I thought of the time before we were married when I would start an evening escorting her to a party only to go home alone when she went off with another guy. I was only a friend then, but now I I her husband. I was furious, but I saw no point in embarrassing myself further. I walked away from the ballroom and the party, but I did not return to the room I was staying in. My deep humiliation was turning into anger. I couldn't understand how she could do this to me. I had loved her unconditionally and believed she loved me in return. I had always known that believing she returned the full extent of my feelings was over-optimism. Despair mingled with anger and humiliation as I wandered into the casino. I had $200 in complimentary chips in my pocket. I sat down at a blackjack table, but I did not play with any intention. My mind was on how my marriage seemed to have collapsed and with it my life. Sabrina and I had not married at the end of some romantic courtship. As Casey had just said, she was way out of my league. We got married based on deep feelings for each other. Two friends who, out of mutual need and affection, had deliberately chosen to bind their lives together. From the beginning, our daughter Trinity was the primary driver of our marriage. Although we both loved Trinity, she was a significant burden on two jobless people. Suddenly, we had medical bills. We needed food and shelter for three. Sabrina's family helped. She was the youngest of three. Her oldest brother, Steven Hayes, would one day become an important banker, but he was a junior manager with his own family back then. Her other brother, Trevor, was an intern at a public hospital, single but paying his medical school debts. Still, both her brothers helped as much as they could. Sabrina's mother, Alexandria Hayes, initially paid our rent and bought little Trinity's clothes. She also gave Sabrina a job in the business run from Alexandria's Upper East Side Manhattan apartment. My parents were dead and I had no siblings or close relatives. My contribution came from three part-time jobs at various gyms. Sabrina worked in her mother's home office while recovering from giving birth. She was determined to get her figure back. Often we would go to the gym together. I as a boxing or judo instructor and Sabrina attending yoga classes. Her brother Steven's wife Lindsey watched Trinity for us. Alexandria ran a modeling agency and was a former model herself. Lindsey was one of her models before marrying Steven. Both women would have qualified as beautiful but neither had the ravishing looks of my wife.

The dealer was getting frustrated with me. I should have taken a hit three hands in a row but passed forcing the dealer to take the card. Each time the house busted. Then she dealt me two deuces and I split them to the groans of the others at the table. I was dealt an ace on each and I stood. Once again the house busted and the pit boss came over. It was time to pick up my chips. The chips filled the pockets of the suit coat I wore. It was just after 11:00 West Coast time. I wasn't tired or feeling the jet lag. My mind was in turmoil. Chase had said that Sabrina's connection to Charles Whitfield had been going on for at least five years. I couldn't figure out how that could be. Yes, she traveled a lot. In the second year of our marriage Sabrina began taking modeling assignments from her mother. She began working for Alexandria after our first argument. The quarrel happened because I had started attending law school classes part-time. The class time and course work meant I needed to cut back on my gym work. I was looking into competing in mixed martial arts competitions. I was no great fighter but I had good technique and could take a lot of punishment. I might not win anything but it was worth a try. I had signed up on a bulletin board at our gym to go for a tryout. Sabrina saw my name on the list and had a fit. She stormed into the small basement apartment we had in Brooklyn and started yelling at me. This woke Trinity, who began to cry. I calmed our daughter down by singing to her, a trick I learned when she was just a few months old. Sabrina took the argument to our bedroom once I had Trinity back to sleep. She set up the procedure we would follow when we fought. No yelling, each sitting opposite the other on the bed, our knees touching. I was forced to look her directly in the eyes and explain my actions. "We can't just keep living on handouts from your family. I've got to get a profession, something that pays money. Law school will pay off in the end, but in the interim, I need to make some cash any way I can."

"And you think getting yourself beaten up in a cage will solve that problem?"

"I've got to try something."

"Tell me that you are not reacting, at least partly, to watching all those guys hit on me at the gym." Sabrina attracted men like bees to a honeycomb. At the gym, I was forced to watch as one confident type after another approached my wife. Sabrina was good at brushing them off, but we both knew it got to me, mainly because so many of them could give her more financially than I could. Working in the gym, I couldn't be constantly at her side. I was forced to watch and do nothing. It's too hard to lie to someone looking you dead in the eyes. "Sabrina, I want to be able to take care of you and Trinity."

"This is a partnership. You go to school. In the meantime, I will continue to work. Mom has been telling me I need to get into modeling. She has work for me. I can earn more than you ever would fighting in a cage. What I need from you is to take care of Trinity. I will be traveling a lot and working odd hours. It's the nature of the business."

"I don't want to be just a house husband."

"You won't be. You will graduate and become a lawyer. Now, come here." That's how our fight ended. I agreed she would do modeling work for her mother, and we made up. Since we were wrapped in each other's arms, it was the inevitable end to all our arguments. She was right about her earnings. We could soon afford a better apartment, and I could attend school full-time. It worked out well. At first, most of her work was late afternoon and evening, and I took classes in the morning. Then she began out-of-town trips. She was home often, but had odd scheduling, particularly around the end of the year, late spring, and summer. When I graduated, she didn't stop. I had student loans to pay, and Trinity was ready for preschool. There was

Another conference on our bed, where she told me she was pregnant, but would continue working until the pregnancy showed. In the interim, she taught yoga and worked in the office with her mother. I started work, hoping to earn enough so she could stay home with the baby.

Those first years of my career as an arbitrator of small cases were lean. Sabrina was soon back working full-time and on the road a lot. Her face appeared in a few magazines, and she once did a TV commercial. Suddenly, she was making significant money, and I knew she wouldn't stop while the cash was rolling in. I adjusted to the fact that Sabrina would always be the principal earner. I thought we were happy, and despite everything, my wife respected me. Still, how could that be the case when she was in a hotel ballroom on the arm of another man, one she had allegedly been seeing for 5 years?

I was still wandering through the casino, my pockets full of chips. It was going on midnight, but I was too distressed to sleep. I didn't want to drink because I feared what I might do to Charles Whitfield if I got drunk. Usually, I'm a happy drinker, but I sensed a dark mood overtaking me. I was angry at the way my my had dismissed me. It was as if I were inconveniencing her.

I reached an area with what must have been 40 poker tables. As it was getting late, some were closed. There was a desk where an attractive young woman was signing people up like a hostess in a restaurant.

"Hi. I have an opening at a medium stakes table. Are you interested?"

I figured why not? It could pass the time. I sat and played 40 80 limit hold'em poker for the next 6 hours, mostly just watching for the first 2 hours. Limit poker sets how much can be bet at any one time and how many raises can be made in each round. Each hand I played began with $60 in the pot. Players came and went, but a core of four players doggedly remained. I played only a few hands, but I usually won when I did. However, at about 4:30, I hit what can only be called a streak. By 6:00, I was up a lot and things got interesting. Several players were clearly trying to sucker me in under playing strong hands. We played for so long together that I was aware of their playing style.

Just before 7:00, I was in the small blind. I figured this should be just about my last hand. No one had called. I had nothing but the three and four of hearts. I just thought I could steal the ante, so I bet. The fellow in the big blind just called. I figured he had a good hand or would have raised to force me out. The flop was the ace of clubs, deuce of hearts, and five of hearts. I bet and my opponent came over me to the limit. He was either bluffing or had an ace, maybe two. However, I had just flopped a straight. I had him beat. I raised back. He hesitated, but must have assumed I was betting a flush draw. In a way, he was right because with two more cards to come, I had a 50% chance of getting a fifth heart. The next card was the king of diamonds. I checked, telegraphing that I had only a flush draw. He bet big trying to force me out. I raised back figuring he had two aces or an ace king. I was sure he thought I was bluffing so he raised back. We kept going until all I could do was call. The river card was the ace of hearts. My opponent had either four aces or a full house. Either way he had a simple flush beat, but I had a straight flush ace to five. I bet big. He came back and we continued raising until we could go no further. It was a huge pot for only two players. I saw the look of disbelief on his face as I laid down the three and four of hearts to his ace king of spades.

As the chips were added to my stack, my phone rang.

"Hello, is this Mr. Samuel Patrick?"

"Yes."

"We have a seat for you in business class on the 8:50 plane to New York's LaGuardia. It may be a little late taking off, but you must arrive by 8:15. Our next available seat will not be until the afternoon."

I jumped up. I waved over the young woman who ran the tables and explained I had a plane to catch. She was very helpful and I tipped her well. She cashed me out and arranged a ride to the airport. I made the early flight which took off a little after nine. I had a check from the casino for $45,000 in my pocket. I was leaving Las Vegas richer than when I arrived, but that was no compensation for having lost my wife.

I didn't reach home until almost nine that evening. The plane trip took seven and a half hours. I lost three hours going west to east and the taxi ride home from the airport was longer than usual due to the snow left by the storm. Before I reached the door to our house, it opened. Our daughter Trinity was waiting for me. She gave me a big hug as did my son Mark. They told me they missed me and were glad I was home.

"What was that for?"

"Mom called late this morning. She told me which plane you would be on and when you were expected to arrive. She said you had a bad time on the way home and would be down in spirits. She said we should give you a big hug for her and say how much we missed you."

Trinity then sat me down at a plate of lasagna she had spent her afternoon cooking. It wasn't a school night. It was Friday and I let them stay up until almost midnight talking and telling me everything they had been doing while I was away. It all seemed so normal. How was I to tell them that this home we had was almost certainly about to disappear? Would they want to stay with their mother and her new man or would they stay with me? The house we were in had a big mortgage. Even with my recent windfall, I doubted I could keep it alone.

"Oh, Grandma and Aunt Lindsey came by earlier. They said they were checking to see if we were all right. They asked me if I had heard from you and when I said that I hadn't, they seemed relieved. I told them you wouldn't be here until around 8:00 or after."

I was glad my in-laws were looking out for my kids, but I wondered how much they knew. I sent the kids to bed and tried to get some sleep myself. I was exhausted after being up all the previous night and getting only fitful sleep on the plane. The following day, Saturday, I didn't get up until almost 9:00. Trinity had plans for the day. She wanted to go ice skating, so I took her and Mark to the rink in the park. Afterward, we had a late lunch and went to a movie. In the evening, Sabrina's sister-in-law asked how I was doing and suggested she take the kids overnight.

"I'll keep them tomorrow and get them to school on Monday."

"I assume you know more than you're saying, Lindsey."

"Samuel, don't rush to judgment. Give Sabrina a chance to explain. She expects to be home by 6:00 tomorrow."

Trinity had already packed their things for a stay with the aunt and uncle. I wondered how much our daughter knew about Sabrina's activities while away. The following day, Sunday, I called Marcus Reed, a friend from law school who did matrimonial work, and set up an appointment for Tuesday. Then I spent my time writing my report on the Bismark arbitration. Even though it was settled, a record of the proceedings needed to be made.

Just after 5:00 in the afternoon, the front door opened, and a moment later my wife appeared at the door of my home office.

"We need to talk."

"Sit down, then."

"No, I'll meet you upstairs in the bedroom. We need to do this the usual way."

"I'll just finish this paragraph and come up."

I found her on the bed in the lotus position. Reluctantly, I climbed on. With our knees touching, she took my hands in hers.

"Okay, ask."

"How long has the affair been going on?" I thought I knew the answer to that question and was testing whether she would be honest with me. Her answer shocked me.

"I'm not having an affair. I was Charles Whitfield's escort for that occasion. He paid me $75,000 for Tuesday through this morning. I'm a professional escort. It's how I make my living, how I pay for this house and Trinity and Mark's private school."

I hadn't expected this. It took me a minute to absorb it. Same question. How long has this been going on? She looked me straight in the eyes.

"A little over 16 years. Since that time we first sat like this and I shot down your crazy MMA idea. I didn't see that I had a choice. My mother was a high-end companion. It was a short step to running the escort service for herself and others."

"But the modeling?"

"Some modeling does go on, but it's a pittance. Men pay to pretend that we are their girlfriends or their fiancées. Still, I won't lie to you. Most want what is called the girlfriend experience, which involves absolute intimacy. Charles Whitfield didn't pay me 75 grand just for my company."

"How could I not have known? My wife was a high-end escort following in her mother's footsteps. How did I miss it? Am I just the most foolish man alive?"

"Samuel, you're not a fool. I went to great lengths to insulate you from my business. I only have a few clients. I'm extremely exclusive. The clients pay more because I'm not available to everyone. This allowed me to keep all my jobs far out of town. Currently, I have only four customers. Charles, you know. Then there's a man in Atlanta, one in Miami, and another in Denver. I keep them far away from each other and you."

"How nice of you."

"Please don't be like that. I only did what I thought was necessary to support and protect my family."

"Why didn't you stop when I started working after law school?" She smiled and I knew she thought she was getting to me.

"To answer why I'm still taking escort assignments? Simple. You don't make enough money to pay for this house, cover the private school tuition, save for Trinity's and Mark's colleges, and provide us with a retirement. But I won't lie. The second reason is that I like what I do and believe I'm the best in the business."

"So you have no shame but hide what you do from me?"

"Because you would never have agreed to let me do it. You are far too protective to let me do this kind of work."

"When did Trinity find out?" For the first time her eyes couldn't meet mine.

"Our daughter is a smart girl. She worked out that my mother was in the business and it was a short distance to get to me."

She paused and then turned directly to me. I could see tears starting in her eyes.

"We had a long discussion when she discovered what I do. I think she came to understand. I was going to ask her not to tell you but she surprised me by demanding that you never know. And you wouldn't know except that for no reason I can think of, you showed up in Las Vegas."

"There was a snowstorm, and I was just trying to go the long way around to get home. But now that I know, what do we do?" She leaned into me until our noses were touching and our gazes locked. It was the way these discussions always ended. Her next move was to kiss me, and then we would make up. Oh, how I wanted it to end that way. But I wasn't going there this time. I got off the bed and turned to leave, speaking over my shoulder.

"I have a report to finish, and I'm seeing a lawyer on Tuesday."

I heard her gasp.

"No."

She jumped from the bed and grabbed me about the waist from behind. I turned in her grip, intent on pushing her away, but we ended in an embrace, facing each other.

"You can't just threaten divorce as you walk away."

"What else is there for me to do?"

"Talk to me. Be the wonderful man I married and understand the choice I made because I love you."

"You love me, but you betrayed me. Made a farce of our marriage. I won't be your submissive fool."

"I'm not asking you to like my choices or agree with my position. I only request understanding and that you believe that I love you and always have. What I do and what I've done for this family has never hurt you or taken anything from you. I've done the opposite. I've cherished, supported, and given everything I had to give."

"You lied to me. Made me a fool."

"It's just a word and not one suited to our situation. What I do with other men is work. I didn't tell you only to protect you. But you are right. I should have been honest with you. I'm sorry. Now come back to bed and let's work this out."

She tried to pull me toward the bed. I pushed her away to the length of my arms. She was crying, and I could feel my own tears streaking my cheeks. No. I just can't accept this. I left her crying in the bedroom.

On Tuesday, I sat in Marcus Reed's office and told him the story of discovering that my wife had been an escort for the last 16 years.

"That's got to be the most outlandish story I have ever been told in this office. If it wasn't Samuel Patrick telling it to me, I doubt I would believe it."

"Well, now you've heard it. What do I do?"

Marcus leaned back in his chair and shook his head slowly. "It's not for me to tell you what to do. You need to tell me what you want me to do."

"Divorce is the only thing I can think of."

"Okay, as a friend and not your lawyer, we are talking about two people who were deeply in love when my wife and I had dinner with them just three weeks ago. Margaret even commented on how unique it was to see a couple so in love after so many years."

"Where are you going with this, Marcus?"

"I'm trying to be honest with you as your lawyer and friend. I have never met a woman as beautiful, elegant, and refined as your Sabrina. I don't know of any other couple with such an incredible marriage."

"She lied to me for 16 years and was intimate with other men for money."

"True, but the court is not going to punish her. And the most you will get is a divorce. I'm certain she has few assets beyond your mortgaged house that can be reached. After all, her income is unreported. And to be frank, you two have high living expenses with those private schools."

He thought momentarily and then continued. "If I had to make a recommendation, I would suggest a legal separation. It doesn't sound so permanent, and she is less likely to stall or fight it. But it becomes absolute grounds for divorce if you live apart for the required period. No arguments, no counseling, and you get to walk away at the end."

"Okay, draw up the papers and I'll get ready to move out." I didn't tell them I had $60,000 in cashier's checks from the Bismark arbitration fee and my casino winnings. I would need an apartment and at least I would have the means to afford one.

Returning to the house in Carroll Gardens, I holed up in my home office. I went through my mail looking for new arbitration panel assignments. If I couldn't get a big case, I would take a small one. Anything to keep busy. Sabrina and the children seemed to be deliberately leaving me alone. I assumed my wife had consciously decided not to push me into taking any definitive action. She was playing a waiting game hoping I would lose my resolve and accept the new reality, which was simply the old reality disclosed for me to see.

On Wednesday afternoon, I texted Sabrina to discuss Marcus Reed's idea of a legal separation. I said I was actively looking for a place and could leave when I found one. She texted that she would like to think about it and would need more information. I was happy she didn't immediately say no.

The following day, Thursday, when the kids were at school and Sabrina was out, my mother-in-law arrived for a visit. Alexandria Hayes had the appearance of a society matron. That day she wore a silver gray dress trimmed in lace as if dressed for a high-end tea party.

"Good afternoon, Samuel. I hope I'm not interrupting your work."

"Always nice to see you, Alexandria, and no, I'm between jobs at the moment." I let her into the dining room and made a fresh pot of coffee. Our dining room is smaller than you would expect, more of a cozy place to have a family meal than a formal dining room. Seated at the dining room table, Alexandria wasted no time getting to the point.

"My daughter always had better taste in men than I did. I'm afraid I gave more attention to looks than character. Sabrina sought character over appearance in her men, but she chose exceptionally well with you."

I looked at her hard, trying to discern whether she was trying to cajole me. She was by nature a charmer, but she seemed sincere, so I nodded for her to go on.

"Life is harder on women like my daughter and me than people think. You need a man who's there for you and can support you through the difficult times. I'm afraid my men were always more transient than dependable. For my mother, it was different. She chose a man strictly based on what he could give her. I got my looks and learned my craft from her, but in my time, the work had become much more transactional. Neither of us could match Sabrina in appearance or elegance. My daughter took my business to a whole new level. Part of that is her brilliant acting ability, but make no mistake, with other men, she is acting. It's all a performance. It's her husband and family she is working for."

Here I openly scoffed. She persevered.

"Life is tricky. We have so little that makes us happy. You have made my daughter happy. And as far as I can see, you have only one fault. You are far too caring."

I frowned at that characterization of me, and she smiled in response.

"No one wanted to deceive you, but Sabrina correctly saw that you would never let her take our profession's physical and emotional risks. Moreover, although you are a very empathetic man, you have a great deal of personal pride. When you add your love for my daughter into the mix, it was simply better that you not know all the details of her profession."

"What happens now that I do know?" Alexandria shrugged.

"Maybe we should stop babying you and treat you like a grown man whose wife happens to be a professional escort."

"So, Sabrina just goes on being intimate with men for money."

"It is much more than that. Sabrina provides a rare service that is greatly appreciated by those who can afford it. Moreover, she is very selective. Sabrina screens her clients well and maintains a high level of discretion. Look how long it took you to discover her activities and that was only by extraordinary chance."

"I gather what you are asking is for me to agree to what Sabrina has been doing. What I was thinking was how clinical she was about her daughter's occupation. To her, it was nothing more than a profession."

"I'm asking that you accept her professional work. I'm not asking that you accept infidelity because my daughter is not being unfaithful. Merely providing a unique service, one that society has yet to accept. But hopefully, one day soon it will."

"If this were an arbitration, I would tell you that you have made your case well and I will consider it in making my decision."

"What decision?"

"The one about leaving your daughter. You see, I'm not the kind of man to watch his woman dress for a date with someone else. I'm not some weak husband waiting at home for her to return, nor am I her manager. I'm the husband and to this husband, this profession of yours is unacceptable."

This last statement angered her and she snapped at me.

"Don't be a fool, Samuel. You're not leaving Sabrina. As to what you find acceptable, it's a little late in the marriage to be raising objections to how the family was financed."

With that, my mother-in-law stormed out of the house. About an hour later, Sabrina came back without the kids. I was in the kitchen making supper. Trinity and I did most of the cooking. It had been that way since Trinity was born. As a little girl, she helped me in the kitchen and now most often I was playing sous chef for her.

"Did my mother come by?"

"Yes, your mother came by to present your case. I have to say she did it very well." She stood with her back to the kitchen cabinets we had installed the year after we moved in. It had all the outward appearance of an ordinary domestic scene, a couple preparing dinner for themselves and their children. But there remained a stiffness, and she did not dare close the physical distance between us without an invitation.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"There are potatoes in the fridge that need peeling." She got the bag of potatoes out. It's a small kitchen, and the only open place was at the counter near the sink. She stood next to me and began peeling. As she peeled, she broached the question she wanted to ask.

"So, what did Mom say?"

I paused before answering. "Well, your mother contended that yours is a profession like any other, and being with other men is not infidelity if you are getting paid for it. Further, I should grow up and accept that what you are doing is for the best." She didn't respond right away, but I saw her frown.

"I guess she didn't convince you." She continued peeling potatoes for a moment longer, then broke down and began sobbing uncontrollably. Over the years we'd spent together, I had seen her angry, happy, sad, and passionate. However, I had never seen her break down like this. When she cried before, she remained in control. Despite myself, I went to her. I put my arms around her and pulled her into an embrace. It was the first time I had held her since Vegas. She put her head on my shoulder and sent tears down my chest.

"I can't live without you. You're the only one who ever loved me. It's unfair. Everything I've done is for us. I didn't want to be like my mother. She sold herself to the highest bidder. It's all about the money with her. I only started doing this because I couldn't see you hurt. Now I can't stop."

"But why can't you stop?" She pulled away, hands on the counter, her back to me.

"You don't understand. It's who I am now. I'm Sabrina Hayes, the premier escort. She's got five, or maybe 10 more years to put her children through school and provide for her and her husband's retirement. I need to finish what I started."

Often parties come to an arbitration seeking justice, but that's not what I, as the arbitrator, can give them. I do right by the contract. I'm bound by the facts and the agreement. My marriage agreement didn't include my wife being an escort. Litigants could appeal my decision, and on more than one occasion, a court ignored the agreement to bring justice to one of the parties. However, that was not my place as the arbiter. I held my wife as she cried and realized that the marriage I believed we had shared so happily had never existed.

That night, for the first time since Las Vegas, we slept in the same bed together, but that's all we did. However, when I woke up the following morning, I found her cuddled up to me and one thing led to another. Trinity and Mark were up and eating breakfast when we came downstairs. It was a school day, but they were due to be released early because the end of term was approaching. Trinity announced that they were going to Aunt Lindsey's for the evening. I wasn't sure I was good with that because I was coming to believe that Lindsey was also working as an escort, although to a lesser extent. Still, I knew the kids didn't want to see us break up and were trying to give us space to solve our problems. After they left for school, Sabrina made us a big breakfast and then suggested we return to bed.

"Is that the best idea?"

"We're still married, and we are both back from traveling. Normally, we make up for lost time. I need my husband."

"Considering what you do when you are away, is that necessary?" I could see the frustration cross her face.

"That's not the same thing. Why can't you understand?"

"Because I don't see it the way you do. It hurts me." She started to cry again, but then she came over to hug and kiss me, and the morning ended the way our arguments always did. For the next few days, things seemed almost normal. On Saturday, the whole family went ice skating in the morning and to the movies in the afternoon. We ended up eating out at one of our favorite places that evening, a local Italian restaurant. That night, Sabrina and I were close again, but she was gone when I woke in the morning. She left a note on the nightstand saying she was sorry she had to leave for previously scheduled work.

"I'll be back by the weekend for Christmas."

Christmas was the following week. This had been her normal schedule for a number of years. She would have trips out of town in the first 3 weeks of December, be home Christmas week, and be gone for a few days around New Year's. I had accepted this as part of the modeling business. I had known no better. Now I realized that December was party season. Just when a man would need an escort.

Trinity had made breakfast. She was, on the surface, all smiles and enthusiasm. However, I could feel the tension underneath her cheerfulness. I didn't want her caught between Sabrina and me. It wasn't her doing. She was 17. I didn't want her young life spoiled by our adult problems. Our son, Mark, knew there was a problem between his parents, but like a typical adolescent, he was caught up in his own issues.

"Trinity, if we needed to, how would we contact your mother?" She left me a note but didn't leave an emergency contact.

"I would just call her cell, Dad."

"Yeah, obviously, but I seem to have misplaced my phone. Can I borrow yours?"

"Sure thing." She pulled her phone out. I walked into my office with my daughter's phone in my hand. I was sure Sabrina wouldn't answer my calls, at least not right away, but she would answer our daughter. Sabrina's cell rang, then told me she was unavailable, which made sense. She was probably on a plane flying somewhere. I left a message knowing that the first thing she would do upon landing would be to look for messages from the kids.

"Hi, this is your husband. I'll see Marcus Reed about the separation agreement as soon as I can next week." I dictated it in a flat, even voice. It was not how I felt. That was angry and hurt. But mostly hurt.

It was early Tuesday afternoon. I was in my office reviewing a new case file I received by express mail that morning. It was a small case and wouldn't take more than two days if that. But it was local, in Queens. The doorbell rang and when I opened it, I came face to face with Charles Whitfield.

"Mr. Patrick, you don't know me."

I cut him off. "Actually, Attorney Whitfield, I've seen you before. Talked with some of your colleagues and done some research. So, I'm not ignorant of you, if not a fan." He was unruffled and replied with what I assumed was a rehearsed statement.

"I don't want to intrude, but since our lives have taken an intersection, I believe it would be best if we talked things out."

I had him come in and sit at our dining room table while I made coffee. As I poured him a cup, he spoke.

"Your house is exactly how Sabrina described it to me. Small, but very comfortable. Those Victorians knew how to build them."

"It was built in the Edwardian period. It's one of the later construction projects on this street. That's why it's small, even if the price was large." He laughed.

"Edwardian, then. But a fine for a fine woman. That's how I think of Sabrina. As the finest woman I know."

I held my temper. "She has her faults."

"But don't we all, Samuel?"

"Well, from my position as the husband, hers seems to be a crucial fault."

"But is it as bad as you contend? And are there not mitigating circumstances?"

"How do you mitigate 16 years of infidelity?"

"Listen to my story. And I'm sure there are more like it."

"I'm not interested in hearing about you and my wife."

"I'm not talking about a story of that kind. But the tale of how Sabrina saved me. Surely you can spare me a few minutes so I can give testimony on her behalf. Unless you are afraid that she might have a defense."

I sat back and all but folded my arms. "All right, I'll listen."

"Five and a half years ago my wife, Katrina left me for a younger man Jeffrey Lawson. That was bad enough. But he worked for a rival firm. And she had been my law partner as well as my wife. When she left me without the slightest warning she took two-thirds of my business with her. I suppose she had at least in her mind, good cause. I was 59. She was 43. 16 years my junior. I hired her right out of law school. She was then the very definition of a nerdy young woman. However, she loved the law and the work. She brought vitality to my office and to me. Together, we prospered. Along the way, she matured into an attractive and sophisticated woman. We had twin girls who had just started college. But more than this, I think she felt caught in my shadow. This must have bred resentment. For in leaving, she slapped me with a restraining order and claimed that I had mistreated her. The charge was untrue, but she had me evicted without notice from our house and proceeded to attack my reputation as well as steal my business. She was out to ruin me and she was succeeding. In our business, appearance I was staying in a little house I owned in Santa Cruz, licking my wounds and feeling sorry for myself. That's when Sarah, my clerk, came to my rescue. She was a modest young woman with four kids, a disabled husband, and a dependent mother. However, she was a phenomenal researcher and the most loyal person ever. They offered her more money to desert me, but she refused."

"You need to square your shoulders and hold your head up high, Charles."

"I know, Sarah, but she planned it well. It's going to take me weeks to get that protective order lifted, if I even can. If it looks like I'm down, the court's going to walk all over me in this divorce."

"That's why you need to show them you are still on top."

"Care to say how I do that?"

"You have the city bar association dinner coming up."

"You've got to be kidding. How can I show my face when Katrina will be there on Jeffrey's arm?"

"You must go. You're the president of the association this year, but you won't be going alone. I've made arrangements for an escort."

I fought the idea, said it wouldn't do anything. However, the night before the dinner, a cab drew up to my door, and the most elegant and beautiful woman I had ever seen got out. Your wife walked up to me, put her arms around my neck, and gave me a big greeting for all the curious neighbors to see. She helped me prove that I was still a desirable man. And she got every detail of my life and marriage out of me. When I walked into the bar dinner with Sabrina, you could hear people taking a deep breath. If she was beautiful the night before, she was a goddess at that dinner. Every man in the room turned to look. She was in a simple black mini dress that seemed to drape over her body. I doubt any other woman in the city could have carried it off."

"I know the dress. It's a designer piece. She bought it second hand for our third wedding anniversary. We had dinner in a small Michelin starred restaurant by the bridge. The place went quiet as we entered. People couldn't stop staring. That happens a lot with my Sabrina." Charles nodded and continued his story.

"I feared those attending the bar dinner wouldn't believe she was truly with me. However, your wife is a superb actress. By the night's end, she had even me believing that we had known each other for years. People always believe a story if it is compelling enough. I'm sure everyone thought Katrina had been replaced well before she jumped to Jeffrey. That was the beginning of my comeback. The court threw out Katrina's protection order. I got my house, my office, and most of my clients back. From then on, Sabrina accompanied me to every big affair. Over the years, we have grown closer, but she has maintained her boundaries. She told me about her family and her husband. You are why she does what she does. I've advised her many times that she needed to bring you in on her secret, but she has been too afraid of losing you."

He finished speaking and sat looking at me. I'm not going to say I wasn't affected by his story. I was proud of Sabrina. Her ability was clear, but I was feeling more jealous than ever. It was the first time I felt more jealousy than betrayal.

"Why have you come here today?"

"She told me when you saw us together in Las Vegas. She was distraught. I told her she could leave immediately, but always the professional that she is, she refused my offer. I flew her back here on my private jet that Sunday. I called her several times to see how she was doing. You see, I was worried."

I shook my head and he snapped. "Not about me, but her. She is deeply in love with you." He took a breath before he went on. "Last weekend she said she believed you were working things out. But when I spoke to her yesterday, she said you were moving forward with a legal separation. I can guess where you are going with that."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Whitfield, but I don't see how our separation would be any of your business." With that, I made to get up, but he waved me back down.

"Please call me Charles. You and I should not be on a last name basis. I came here today to try to help someone I care for deeply. I came to assure you that the only man your wife loves is you. She may keep company with others, but it is you that she loves. I would trade places with you if I could, but that is impossible. What I have is only the shadow of what you possess."

With that, he sat back in his seat. "There, I've had my say. I know you will do as you believe you must, but take this advice for what it's worth. Follow your heart, not your head."

My unwanted guest got up and left. What remained were a number of things: anger, jealousy, but mostly a feeling of hopelessness. Natalie destroyed her 23-year marriage by forcing an open relationship to chase thrills. Consequently, Jack found genuine love with Marilyn, leaving Natalie lonely and full of regret. While the second story, Sabrina secretly worked as a high-end escort for 16 years to financially support her family. Despite claiming she did it out of love, this profound betrayal drove Samuel to pursue a legal separation. Both narratives highlight a modern moral crisis, compromising sacred vows for selfish desires or material comfort. In reality, whether a partner seeks fleeting excitement or prioritizes financial status over honesty, betraying trust leaves deep, irreparable scars. A strong foundation in life requires absolute transparency, proving that rationalized deception ultimately destroys the very family it claims to serve. As the voice observing these shattered lives, my plea is simple. Do not gamble your foundation for temporary thrills or hidden wealth. Trust, once broken, rarely mends. Cherish the love you have, and always choose honesty before you end up trading something whole for an empty lifetime of regret.