I go by Simon, though I'm not too particular about what people call me. My full name is Simon Cooper, and I've been married to Grace for four years now. We haven't had kids yet because we both enjoy our freedom a little too much, and while that might change someday, it's not something we see happening until we're well into our 30s.
We both came from modest backgrounds, living just a few blocks apart, though we didn't meet until we were 18 at a college recruitment event. Grace thrived in college, eventually becoming an accountant and credit controller. Meanwhile, I struggled with my studies and didn't even graduate.
But what I lacked in academics, I made up for with a strong work ethic and a knack for business. By the time I was 15, I was working as a cleaner in local stores and offices; by 18, I was already managing a team of 30 employees and had secured contracts with several large companies in town. Grace was job hunting at the time, and I needed more staff.
When she came to my table at the event, she handed me her resume and said, "I'm not looking for a clean job, but maybe you'd be interested in my phone number. " I didn't waste time; I called her before she even reached the next table and asked her out to dinner the following night. Four years later, we were married.
That event was a stroke of luck for Grace, as she also landed a job in the purchasing department of a construction firm. Starting from the bottom, she worked her way up, and after eight years, became the head of both the purchasing and credit control departments. Thanks to our dual incomes and the fact we didn't have kids, we lived pretty comfortably.
Meanwhile, my business flourished, and I turned it into the largest office and store cleaning company in the city after buying out two competitors. It's common for cleaners and security guards to be the first to notice anything unusual in offices, and their observations often spark conversations among the staff. About four months ago, while I was at my desk, my secretary informed me that someone was waiting to see me in the reception area.
She handed me a business card that read, "Kyle Foster, Private Investigator. " I told her to send him in. When Kyle walked in, I greeted him with a handshake and asked what brought him by.
After exchanging pleasantries, he sat down and smiled. "Before we get into it, could I grab a cup of coffee? Haven't had any all day, and I'm dying for a cup.
" I could relate; most business owners run on caffeine. My secretary quickly brought over two mugs from the coffee machine, complete with milk and sugar, but neither of us touched them. After a little more small talk, I steered the conversation toward the reason for being here.
"So, Kyle, what can I do for you? " He grinned. "Please call me Kyle.
As you can see from my card, I'm a private investigator. I'm currently working for a client who suspects his wife might be having an affair or is about to start one. The wife works as an accountant at Hancock Manufacturing, one of your city's bigger suppliers.
Recently, the company hired a new salesman, Jared Nelson. Jared has a reputation for targeting married women. He's been sending flowers, texting late at night, and taking my client's wife out for lunch—pretty typical stuff until now.
But here's the kicker: he's pushing for an overnight trip with her. " I listened, mildly amused by the spy game, but then something clicked. I knew that company name—Grace's firm also sourced materials from Hancock, and this Jared Nelson sounded like someone I needed to keep away from Grace.
I glanced back at Kyle, who was clearly waiting for my response. "Okay, I get it. How exactly can I help?
" I asked. His smile widened. "Glad you asked.
Jared leaves flowers, notes, and other personal items on her desk, and she usually throws them away. Your cleaning staff could collect anything tied to him and pass it on to us. We'd run everything by our legal team first.
There's no legal issue in gathering personal trash, and her employer has already given us the green light. " He handed me a card with the CEO's number on it, saying I could call to confirm. I didn't need to; the CEO's number was already saved on my phone.
I dialed, and he picked up immediately. Without preamble, he said, "Simon, I understand Kyle Foster is with you. You're authorized to share any non-company information with him.
Our legal team will follow up with a formal letter. If you need anything else, give me a call. " I hung up, impressed by how quickly they wanted this sorted out.
Kyle grinned. "So, are we on the same page? " "Yeah, it's all set," I said.
"Tell me what to look for, and we'll start separating her trash. " "You can pick it up each day at 11:00 a. m.
Will that work? " "Perfect," Kyle confirmed. I phoned my team, and Kyle instructed us on what to watch for: early lunches, late lunches, flowers, and notes.
For about six weeks, we worked with Kyle. At the end of the investigation, one of my staff reported that the woman hadn't returned after lunch; Kyle tracked them to a motel, and shortly after that, the marriage ended in divorce. Things went back to normal for us until one day, Grace seemed a bit off.
I tried to get her to open up, but she didn't want to talk about it. About a week later, Zoe, one of my longest-serving employees and someone I considered a close friend, came into my office. She'd been with me almost from the start, and at 25 years my senior, she treated me like a son.
As she sat down, I sensed something was amiss. “Wrong,” you remember that surveillance job a few months back. She asked, her voice cautious.
“Of course, it was quite an experience,” I replied, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. “Well,” she hesitated, “I work in the same office as your wife now, and I've noticed something. The man we were keeping an eye on has been stopping by her office.
I saw a big bouquet of flowers on her desk, and she took them with her to lunch. Here's the card that came with them. ” She handed me the card, and as I read it, my heart sank: “Dear Grace, thank you for helping me renew my contract with your company.
I can't tell you how much I appreciate it. I hope you'll join me for lunch soon. With love, Jared.
” The note implied a level of familiarity I wasn't comfortable with, and now my wife was his next target. I thanked Zoe and asked her to keep me updated on any other notes or flowers she might come across. I wasted no time calling Kyle; he picked up after the third ring.
“Simon, how can I help? ” I quickly filled him in. “Zoe, one of my staffers who worked on the previous investigation, now works in Grace's office.
She just told me that Jared Nelson has started paying her visits, taking her out to lunch, and sending flowers. I've got a card from him right here. ” Kyle took a deep breath.
“You're not the only one dealing with Jared. You're actually the third husband involved. Would you be interested in joining forces with the others?
” “Absolutely,” I replied. “What's the next step? ” Kyle suggested a meeting with the other husbands at 2 p.
m. and proposed, “Can you come by my office so we can get the paperwork sorted and exchange any relevant information? ” I agreed and arrived at his office at 1:55 p.
m. sharp. Inside, I met Billy Morgan and Terry Smith, along with Kyle and his associate, Mark Perry, who was handling the data collection for the case.
Kyle started the meeting. “Gentlemen, we're all here because you share a common problem. Billy, Terry, meet Simon.
He's interested in joining the investigation. If you're both agreeable, we'll officially bring him on board and begin sharing information. ” They nodded, and after a brief exchange, everyone agreed.
The paperwork took about 15 minutes, during which I used my personal credit card to cover the $5,000 fee, ensuring Grace wouldn't see anything suspicious on our shared statements. Once everything was settled, Kyle addressed all of us. “The shared issue is Jared Nelson.
Simon just learned in Billy's wife works alongside Jared at Hancock Manufacturing, while Terry's wife is employed by the city's School Board, which sources supplies from the same company. Jared has a very well-practiced routine: he sends flowers, texts, and takes these women out to lunch, usually trying to escalate things by luring them to a motel afterward. His pattern with married women is disturbing—pressuring those with children and taking advantage of those without by offering them free passes from their husbands.
” Kyle paused, taking a sip of coffee. “That continued over the past year. Jared has been responsible for at least five divorces in the area.
His tactics don't vary much, but they're effective. He even got sued by a group of husbands in Dallas, where he used to work, after causing a string of broken marriages. The lawsuit resulted in his termination, but he's up to the same tricks here.
Now, we're doing everything we can to put a stop to it. ” He turned to me. “Simon, are you still assigned to clean at Hancock Manufacturing or the School Board's offices?
You might be able to gather valuable evidence from Grace's office trash if your team handles that area. ” I shook my head. “No, unfortunately, we don't cover those locations.
” “That's too bad,” Kyle remarked. “But keep collecting anything from Grace's trash that looks personal. We need every piece of information we can get.
” He then asked, “Who pays for your wife's phone bill? ” “My company does,” I responded. Kyle grinned.
“Great. Here's what we'll do. We'll need to access her phone records to see who she's been texting and calling.
Just fill out this authorization form, and it will grant us permission to monitor her phone. You'll also need to scan this QR code on her phone. Once you do, a program will install itself discreetly and begin transmitting all her calls, messages, emails, and WhatsApp chats to our server.
Jared tends to avoid using landlines because it's too easy for spouses to answer accidentally, so most of his contact with these women happens on their cell phones. ” We wrapped up the meeting by exchanging phone numbers and creating a WhatsApp group for easier communication. It included me, Billy, Terry, Kyle, and Mark.
The goal was to keep everyone informed and updated in real time. When I got home later that evening, Grace was already there, but she seemed a little preoccupied. She kept her phone close, which wasn't like her, and during our conversation, she seemed distant.
When I asked about her day, she brushed me off, saying it was a long one and that she felt tired. Then, at 9:30 p. m.
, much earlier than usual, she went to bed. I stayed up a bit longer, trying to shake the uneasiness that had settled in. Once I knew she was asleep, I went to search for her phone, but it wasn't in its usual spot.
I made my way to the bedroom. I noticed a phone charger near the bed, and when I took a closer look, I found it tucked beneath Grace's pillow. There was no way I could retrieve it without waking her, so I went to bed, my mind swirling with unease.
Luckily, in the middle of the night, she got up, giving me the perfect chance to scan the QR code, input the details, and return her phone without waking her. Her noticing the next morning, she wandered around the house aimlessly before heading to work, barely saying a word to me. If I hadn't spoken to her first, I doubt she would have said anything at all.
Around 11:30 a. m. , Mark called from Kyle's office.
They had finished analyzing the initial data dump, and he started to explain what they found. Grace had set up a new email account, apparently just for Jared. "This gives us an advantage," Mark said.
"At first, we weren't sure how they were communicating, but now we know. We're working on accessing his emails as well. Jared's messages are relentless; he's been pushing Grace to spice up her life, suggesting she needed new experiences to reinvigorate her marriage.
He even pressured her into sharing details of her love life, which he's now using against you. " I felt a knot in my stomach as Mark continued. He hinted at a weekend getaway during their recent lunch and is trying to convince her it's just a physical thing, arguing that if she really loves you, it won't be considered cheating.
"He's using guilt to manipulate her. " I told Mark about Grace's strange behavior the night before and asked if she and Jared were still in contact or planning another meeting. Mark checked the messages.
"She just responded to him a few minutes ago. He invited her to lunch at the beach club tomorrow, suggesting they strategize about how to convince you. His exact words were, 'Simon loves you, and if you tell him it won't be cheating, he can't deny you a free pass.
'" She replied with a simple okay. After wrapping up the call, I leaned back in my chair, trying to figure out my next move. Talking to her directly wouldn't work; Jared was pushing too hard.
If I confronted her, he'd probably find another way to lure her in, maybe even arrange a hotel meeting. I realized that either I had to put an end to this or end my marriage. I called Kyle and got straight to the point.
"Jared's making a direct move on Grace, and even if I step in now, he'll likely push for a hotel visit. I need a solid plan or else I'm thinking divorce, but I feel like I need a backup plan. What do you think?
" Kyle paused briefly. "Having a backup plan is smart, but if it fails, Jared won't give up easily. His ego won't let her slip away.
If forgiveness isn't an option for you, divorce might be inevitable. I can prepare a packet of documents for your attorney, or I can recommend one. " "I've got my own lawyer, thanks," I replied.
"He’s already drafted a business agreement protected by a trust in case this goes south. " I called my lawyer and set up a meeting for the following morning. When I arrived at his office at 9:30, he gave me a knowing look.
"What changed? " he asked with a smile. He knew me too well.
I laughed lightly, taking a cup of coffee as the secretary offered. "Grace is on the verge of betrayal," I explained. "A salesman at her job has targeted her, and she's fallen for it.
I'm thinking of pulling the plug on the marriage, but I'm working on a backup plan. If she goes through with it, though, there's no plan B. " We spent the next hour going over possible outcomes.
I was leaning toward a straightforward divorce; our business assets were already protected by the agreement, and since we didn't have kids, there wouldn't be any child support to worry about. We agreed to sell the house and split everything evenly. I wasn't interested in going after Jared or his employer legally; it would be expensive with little chance of success.
After settling the details and the fee, I left. My lawyer assured me that everything would be finalized and stored for future reference, just in case. Over the course of the week, Grace's demeanor fluctuated.
One night she was affectionate; the next, she barely seemed to notice I existed. Then, on Friday afternoon, Zoe, one of my employees, called to tell me that Grace had received another bouquet of flowers along with a postcard. That was it for me.
While I was typing a message in the WhatsApp group, I saw a post from Kyle to Billy: Jared had invited Billy's wife to dinner at the Holiday Inn. We all knew Jared's intentions, but things were still up in the air. I urged Billy to join me, hoping he'd take care of things soon.
I wanted my situation resolved just as badly, and I was so distracted that I kept dropping things. I messaged the group, telling Mark about the flowers and the card. He replied quickly, "I'll check her email now.
" Five minutes later, my phone rang. "Check your WhatsApp," Mark said. Opening the app, I saw a document: a hotel reservation for a Lakeside Inn about 30 minutes outside the city.
The booking was for Friday and Saturday nights, and both Grace's and Jared's names were listed. Returning to the call, I told Mark the bad news. He sighed and confirmed, "Yeah, but it gets worse.
The emails are even more incriminating. I'm sending you one now. " When I opened my inbox, I found an email from Grace that outlined exactly what to say and do.
It was essentially a cheater's guide. Jared had sent her the hotel link two weeks ago, and their email chain showed him encouraging her, telling her how much he wanted to spoil her. In the final message, he confirmed the reservation and provided her with a script to convince me everything would be fine.
According to his plan, she was supposed to cook me a nice dinner, act extra affectionate throughout the week, and assure me it was purely physical with him, meant only to enrich our relationship. He left the decision in her hands. But it was clear she was leaning toward going through with it.
I needed time to think. That weekend we kept busy; I didn't let on that I knew, but Grace's behavior changed. She was unusually kind, and we were intimate multiple times: Friday night, Saturday morning, and again Saturday night.
On Sunday afternoon, she initiated another round, and then again on Monday morning. It was like she was trying to reassure herself or me, but by Monday afternoon, I was done playing along. Kyle called me around 3:00 p.
m. with more bad news. Grace had messaged Jared, telling him she was in for Thursday night but only if he felt comfortable.
Kyle warned me that Jared's response was basically, "Forgiveness is easier than permission. " I thanked Kyle for the update and asked him to compile all the evidence. I mentioned that there were likely photos, and Kyle confirmed they had one of Jared and Grace kissing, though it wasn't a full-on makeout session.
I told him to include everything in a folder and send it to my lawyer. I contacted my lawyer next, letting him know to expect the folder. We agreed to go over it during a meeting on Saturday morning.
Nothing ruins breakfast quite like a divorce petition, I remarked dryly. On Monday night, Grace tried to get close again, but I declined, saying I had work to finish. I stayed up late in my office and finally went to bed around 2:00 a.
m. She was already asleep. The next morning, as I prepared to leave for work, a courier delivered the folder.
I opened it in my office, flipping through the evidence: emails, photos, and notes that revealed just how far things had gone. Jared had ruined at least seven marriages in the past 18 months, and it seemed like ours was next. Just as I finished reading, Lauren, my secretary, walked in.
I shared the entire story with her. Her face softened with sympathy, and for the first time, I saw her as more than just a colleague. There was something undeniably attractive about her.
She smiled knowingly and asked, "So what's your plan? " A faint smile crossed my lips. "If she goes through with it on Friday, I'll file for divorce on Saturday.
" Lauren grinned playfully. "Well, what's good for the goose is good for the gander, right? " She leaned closer.
"Why not have your own weekend with someone you've been dreaming of? " I laughed. "And who might that be?
" "Me, of course," she said, flashing a mischievous smile. "Strictly physical, nothing more. You need a clear head, and I'm just the girl to help with that.
" The idea was simple yet effective: make Grace face the consequences of her betrayal. That night I was with Grace, but there was no emotion in it for me. It was a tough act to pull off.
By Wednesday morning, neither of us was in the mood for our usual quick interaction before work. The tension was growing, and Thursday would be the breaking point. By Wednesday evening, the tension had eased just a little, but it was still there, simmering beneath the surface.
Thursday morning, as I was getting ready to leave the house, Grace woke up and yelled something about dinner plans, but I chose to ignore her. Around noon, Kyle called with another update. Grace had messaged Jared, boasting that she was preparing a special dinner for me and promising to fill him in on our conversation afterward.
I decided to get ahead of her. I headed to the grocery store and picked up everything I needed: chicken, potatoes, vegetables, and a bottle of her favorite white wine. By 2:30 p.
m. , I was back home, and within a couple of hours, everything was prepped and ready in the oven. Just as I was sliding the tray of potatoes inside, Grace came home, carrying a few shopping bags.
She looked puzzled, clearly not expecting to see dinner already well underway. "What are you up to? " Grace asked, eyeing the dinner preparations with clear confusion as she set her shopping bags down.
I grinned broadly, trying to keep the mood light. "Just making dinner for my lovely wife. I wanted to make it special before we sit down and have a chat.
" She looked even more puzzled, her brow furrowing. "Oh, I was planning on making dinner too, but after we eat, I have something important to discuss with you. It's going to be a long night.
" "Of course," I replied, turning away with a smile. I had already thrown a wrench in her plans, and she didn't even know it yet. Dinner was tense.
I kept the conversation flowing, deflecting any attempts to steer it toward anything personal. Grace tried to push the conversation in that direction a few times, but I urged her to enjoy the meal first. Once we were done, I decided it was time to take control of the situation.
"Bring your wine to the kitchen; let’s talk in there," I suggested, nodding toward the kitchen table where I had discreetly placed a folder earlier—the letter, the evidence, everything she would need to see, tucked under a couple of magazines. She followed me, still clueless about what was coming. I removed the magazines, revealing the printed document.
"Grace," I began, "you know I love you, and I never want to hurt you. But we've been together for a long time, and I've come to realize something: my lack of experience has been bothering me, and it's become more apparent lately. " Her eyes widened slightly, and I could see her trying to process where this was going.
"My secretary, Lauren—well, she's been confiding in me, and I found myself drawn to her stories. They're captivating. I feel like I need to clear my head before we can fully commit to spending our lives together, so I've booked a hotel for the weekend with her.
It's just physical. " A chance for me to blow off some steam and try out some new things I can bring back to our marriage. It doesn't change how I feel about you, and I'm telling you beforehand so it won't be seen as cheating.
Grace's face flushed bright red, her expression teetering between rage and disbelief. "Over my dead body," she practically shouted. "And I want this woman gone by Monday morning or we're done.
" Her reaction was exactly what I expected, and I couldn't help but laugh. The look on her face was priceless as the realization dawned on her; she saw through the game I was playing. Everything she had planned to say, every excuse she had prepared, I had anticipated it all.
I closed the folder and handed it to her, revealing the photo on the cover: her and Jared locked in a kiss. Her face drained of color, her voice a whisper, "You knew, and you played me! " "Yes," I said calmly, my smile fading.
"I knew your reaction is exactly how I would have responded if the roles were reversed, but unlike you, I didn't book a hotel. Unlike you, I didn't share lunches, kisses, or conversations about love with someone else. My story was fiction; yours, however, is very real.
" As I spoke, she flipped through the folder, her hands trembling. Everything was there: dates, times, photos, emails, transcripts of calls; it was all laid out in black and white. "You followed me!
You violated my privacy! How could you? " she demanded, her voice laced with fury.
I stayed composed. "That's the crux of it, Grace. You've crossed a line, and now it's time for action.
You got yourself a boyfriend, had an emotional affair, and were planning to take it physical. You've humiliated me and put our marriage on the line, and yet here you are, angry at me for catching you before it was too late. I thought we might be able to work through this, but maybe I was wrong.
" Her eyes filled with tears as she tried to defend herself. "Humiliated? You jeopardized our marriage, Simon!
It wasn't like that! It was separate from us. " "Separate from us?
" I repeated, incredulous. "That's straight out of the cheaters' handbook! You told me earlier that if I had an affair, it’d be over your dead body.
So why is it okay for you but not for me? " She opened her mouth to respond, but I raised my hand to stop her. "No, Grace, there's no such thing as a free pass.
If you go through with this, it's cheating, and telling me in advance doesn't change that. " Her gaze dropped to the floor, her voice barely audible. "I.
. . I can't deal with this right now.
I need to be alone. " Without another word, she turned and fled upstairs, taking the folder with her. I heard the bedroom door slam and the lock click into place.
I cleaned up the kitchen, my mind already spinning with what to do next. Kyle had set me up with a tablet that allowed me to monitor all of Grace's phone activity, so I sat down and logged in. Sure enough, she was messaging Jared.
I scrolled through their conversation. Grace's latest message was filled with doubt; she told Jared she was worried someone might be watching them, that someone had copies of their messages. She even mentioned how I had made dinner for her that night and how I seemed to know more than I was letting on.
Jared's response was predictable. He told her not to worry, to just go through with the weekend as planned and everything would be fine. He assured her that her feelings for him were real and that they had to follow through with their plan.
His desperation was almost palpable. Grace, however, was wavering. She told him that I was acting strange, that I seemed to have figured everything out.
She admitted she was having second thoughts, that maybe this wasn't the right move. But Jared kept pushing, telling her that it wouldn't be cheating if I knew about it. He insisted it would only make her happier.
I shut the tablet and turned on the TV, though my mind was elsewhere. I had already made up my mind to file for divorce, but I was torn between doing it now or waiting until they had actually gone through with it. Part of me wanted to make sure she fully understood the consequences of her actions before I made any final decisions.
I called my lawyer and filled him in. "I dropped the bomb on her," I said, "and she's planning to pack her bag and see how I'll react. I don't want to file for divorce until they've actually slept together, but I need her to know I'm serious.
Is there any way we can push this? " My lawyer, sharp as ever, had a suggestion. We could serve her a letter at her office tomorrow, making it clear that I know about the affair and that if she goes through with it, divorce proceedings will start the next morning.
"She'll get the message loud and clear. " I agreed, thinking it over. It was the perfect way to demonstrate just how serious I was.
Later that night, I checked the tablet again. No further messages between Grace and Jared. I decided to call it a night.
When I reached the bedroom, I half expected the door to still be locked, but it wasn't. I walked in to find Grace lying in bed, her packed bag sitting against the wall. Seeing that bag sent a wave of emotions crashing over me.
I didn't say a word; I just turned around and walked out of the room, heading straight for the guest bedroom. She called after me, pleading, but I ignored her. Lying in bed fully clothed, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal.
The bag packed and ready for her to. . .
Run off with Jared was the final blow. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I let them fall. I had lost something fundamental, and there was no coming back from that.
The next morning, I heard her moving around downstairs. I stayed in the guest room, waiting until I heard the front door close. When I finally went down to the kitchen, I saw the bag was gone.
Grace had unpacked it and put everything away. She stood by the counter, her face drawn and anxious. My initial reaction was to lash out, but I held back.
"I suppose this breakfast is your way of showing me what kind of wife you'll be if you sleep with another man, but it doesn't matter if you go through with it. We're done. " She looked at me, her eyes pleading, but I didn't let her speak.
"I've already spoken with the lawyer," I continued, my voice firm. "You'll be served with divorce papers tomorrow morning at the hotel. There's no turning back after that.
If you come home tonight, we'll start counseling and try to rebuild. But if you leave with him, don't even consider coming back. " Grace's face crumpled, but she said nothing.
I glanced at her bag by the door. "I assume the bag's already in your car," I said. She turned away, confirming my suspicion without saying another word.
Grace picked up her things and quietly left the house. The sound of the door closing echoed through the empty kitchen, leaving me standing alone in the silence. At least Grace finally understood the gravity of her actions.
When I got to the office, Lauren took one look at me and said, "You look terrible. " I gave her a weak grin. "And you look as stunning as ever.
" Before she could ask more questions, I added, "I have no idea how things will turn out. " When I laid out my plan B, Grace flew into a rage. She said, "Only over my dead body.
" "This morning, I packed my weekend bag. She's going to receive a letter soon, and we'll see if it rattles her. " Lauren brewed more coffee and handed me a cup.
"I hope she realizes what she's doing. Surely she can't think this behavior is okay for her but not for you. " I offered her a sad smile and settled at my desk.
The day felt unproductive, and right after 11, my phone rang. It was Grace, and she was crying. "Are you serious?
" she sobbed. "Are you really going to divorce me? " It was clear she hadn't expected me to follow through.
I didn't hesitate. "If you go through with it, it's a breach of our agreement. You divorce me if I cheated, right?
" Her voice was barely audible, but she whispered, "Yes. " "Will you come home so we can talk? " she pleaded.
"I'll be there in 20 minutes," I replied and hung up. When I got home, I brewed some coffee, and the smell of the bacon she had cooked earlier still lingered in the air. I opened a window to air out the kitchen and sat down.
Ten minutes later, Grace came through the door, holding an envelope from my lawyer in one hand and her weekend bag slung over her shoulder. She dropped the bag at the door, looking unsure whether to come to me or stay back. I poured the coffee and gestured for her to sit down.
"So, are you still planning to go to the hotel? " I asked, watching her closely. Her face flushed.
"How can you ask that after sending this? " she waved the letter from the lawyer. "Of course I'm not going.
I love you. I want to be with you. I canceled everything, but do we need to fix our marriage, or am I still going to be served with divorce papers?
" I studied her for a moment before speaking. "You'll only be served if you show up at that hotel. No hotel, no papers.
But our marriage has been damaged, Grace. This is what's going to happen: First, you're going to call Jared in front of me, and I want to hear you end it. Then, you're going to delete the personal email account you made for him.
After that, you'll report everything to your boss and make sure Jared's banned from your office. Finally, we'll start counseling to figure out why this happened and how we can rebuild our trust. " Just as I finished, her phone rang.
It was Jared. She put it on speaker, and his frustrated voice came through. "Where are you, Grace?
I'm waiting at the reception and can't wait any longer. " Grace took a deep breath and said, "Jared, I'm home with Simon. He did something that made me realize what I was doing.
If I go with you, it'll destroy my marriage. I'm sorry, but you're not worth it. I'm not coming.
" Jared's anger was palpable. "You're a fool! Do you know how much time, effort, and money I've spent on you?
And now you're backing out because your weakling husband threw a tantrum? Screw you! " he shouted before hanging up.
For the first time, Grace saw him for what he really was. It wasn't love or care; it was manipulation. She took a moment to gather herself and then began deleting the email account.
It took longer than expected, but after an hour, it was gone. Not long after, her boss and the HR manager, Marvin Woods, showed up at our door. They looked serious.
"Grace, we're aware of what happened today," Woods said. "To say we're disappointed is an understatement, but we're here to give you a chance to keep your job. Please tell us what happened.
" Grace took a deep breath and dabbed her eyes with a tissue. "About three months ago, Jared Nelson took over the AM Medals account I managed. He started with compliments—harmless things about my clothes and hair—but then it got.
. . " Personal, he began flirting, sending me gifts, and eventually asked me to dinner.
I let it happen, and I started dressing provocatively to get his attention. Over time, he wore me down with his words, telling me Simon didn't deserve me, and then he convinced me to agree to a weekend with him. But Simon intervened with a letter from his lawyer, and it snapped me out of it.
I told Jared I wasn't going. I've reported everything to HR, and I'm ready to move forward. Woods exchanged a glance with Grace's boss and then nodded.
"Thank you for your honesty, Grace. Yes, you made a significant error, but you're lucky to have this chance to keep your job. We've had quality issues with Am Medals, and we're cutting ties with them.
Jared Nelson will no longer be coming to this office. Let me be clear: if anything like this happens again, you'll be dismissed immediately. " Grace nodded.
"I understand. " Once they left, Grace and I sat down to have lunch. Later, we started searching for a marriage counselor.
Fortunately, we found one quickly and made an appointment for the next day. The counseling sessions went well. Over three months, Grace realized how Jared had exploited her fear of our marriage becoming routine.
She saw how easily he had manipulated her. As for me, I realized how much we had built together, and I grew to appreciate the strength of our relationship. Four years later, we're still together, and Grace is expecting our first child.
We've come a long way, and we're stronger now than ever. As for Jared, he didn't fare so well. A few months back, he had a nasty fall at the local shopping mall, slipping down a flight of stairs in the parking lot.
The police couldn't figure out exactly what happened, but I do know this: there were at least five husbands at the mall that day, all of us dressed in black jackets and baseball caps. When the police tried to separate us and ask questions, no one gave anything away. We shuffled around so much they couldn't tell who was sitting where, and none of us were talking.
One thing's for sure: someone made sure Jared got what he deserved, but as for who, well, that's a secret none of us are ever going to share.
