Fool's Gold Ch. 01

Author's Note: This story is not intended as a stroke story. There is little or no sex and most of that takes place off screen. The intent is to track a man's emotional state and growth in the aftermath of an unexpected divorce.

I would like to thank TeNderLoin for his assistance in editing this story. His suggestions and help have made it better and are truly appreciated.

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"Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone"
- Joni Mitchell, Big Yellow Taxi

"Hello, Bill Thompson," I grated impatiently into the phone as I rushed to finish the latest changes to the design specifications I was working on. It was a typical Monday afternoon at the office. The clients spend the weekend going over the plans and making last minute changes and guess who gets to shovel the resulting shit?

"Hi, it's me," my wife Anne replied. Her voice sounded a bit strained but I assumed it was just the stress of her day. "I'm just calling to find out what time you'll be home tonight?"

Her call was not unusual. Anne liked to keep on top of things. She was the planner for the family and took it as her responsibility for coordinating our busy schedules.

"I'm not sure," I mumbled distractedly as I continued to manipulate the CAD program. "Joe handed me a bunch of last minute changes to the Johnson project, and we need to get them to the contractor by tonight. If everything goes right, we should be done in a couple of hours, but don't hold dinner for me. If it gets too late, I'll have Heather order in for us."

Anne sighed petulantly. My bosses' penchant for throwing unexpected late nights at me had been the cause of more than a few disagreements between Anne and me. I'm an architect for a firm that specializes in large commercial developments. About five years ago I had been promoted to project manager. It meant a nice salary increase, but it also meant more responsibility and the likelihood of longer hours.

There are times like today when I have to drop everything to finish a rush job. Timing can be critical. Any delays in getting the plans to the builders could result in some severe performance penalties to the firm. This could also cause a severe penalty to my bank balance, as my firm did not look kindly on project managers who didn't deliver. The problem was, that there was often little or no warning on these rush projects.

It didn't help matters that the last few years had been tougher than normal. My team was a victim of its own success. We had successfully pulled off a series of jobs for tough demanding clients and as a result we had gained a reputation for getting the job done. It seemed like every demanding client that came to our firm was now asking specifically that we be assigned to their project.

As a result, I had had to deal with a succession of picky clients with lots of last minute changes. Even when the demands were unreasonable, my boss would expect that they be met. Privately he would agree that the client was being outrageous, but publicly he told me to do my job. I guess he was persuaded by the fact that the firm was making the clients pay through the nose for each and every annoyance that they put my team through.

So my team was earning great bonuses and lots of respect, but the hours were killing us. I'm the type of guy who likes to spend a lot of time with the family and be involved in my kids' lives. Just that week, I had put my foot down and told my boss that things had to change. The extra hours were affecting team performance, and I was in danger of losing some of my best people if things didn't change. He had reluctantly agreed, and we had set up a meeting to discuss the creation of more reasonable deadlines.

I wasn't exactly sure why Anne was so bothered by my overtime. Hell, she put in a ton of hours at her job too. I never complained, well, not too much. Anne was a financial analyst. I knew that that there were going to be times when she had to put in the extra hours. We both knew that the extra hours came with the extra responsibility and the extra money in the paycheck. We had learned to work around it, and we both made sure not to let the job get in the way of our family time, but the carping had been getting worse.

"I'm sure Heather will give you anything you want," Anne responded sarcastically. "Try to make it home before midnight. We have things to discuss."

I mumbled a hasty goodbye before turning my attention back to the computer. In hindsight, I missed the clues in her tone. I had only given her part of my attention because I needed to get this job done. I was in a rush to finish up and get home. I probably should have paid more attention to what she was saying, or perhaps more importantly to how she said it.

It was only later that I realized that the phone call had been a classic no win situation. If I had stopped working and taken the time to talk with her, then it would take longer to get the job done and she would have been pissed because I was even later getting home. But, by choosing to hurry through the conversation in an obviously distracted fashion, she felt slighted. No matter which way I had responded, I confirmed her fears about my priorities.

It wasn't the best way to start the worst evening of my life. Anne knew I had tuned her out and she hated to be ignored. All I had done was succeed in getting her angry with me. Hell, I even missed her snipe at Heather.

Heather had been hired as my personal assistant right out of college, about three years ago. Hiring her was one of the best decisions that I'd made when I put my team together. I was a damned good architect, but my managerial skills needed a little help. She had the business and organizational skills that I lacked, and was the one who worked behind the scenes to keep the team running smoothly. Our skills complemented each other perfectly. If it hadn't been for her, I don't think my team would have been half as successful.

Unfortunately, Heather had become yet another source of conflict between Anne and myself. Although she had never come out and said it to my face, Anne had dropped enough hints to make me believe that she thought that I had hired Heather strictly because of her looks. Heather was about twenty-five years old and was cute as a button. She hit all my hot buttons. She reminded me a lot of Anne when we first married.

Anne had taken one look at Heather three years ago and had taken an instant dislike to her. In retrospect, it was obvious that Anne felt threatened by the amount of time that Heather and I spent together.

But good old Clueless Bill missed the warning signs. All I saw was the contributions Heather made to the team. Sure I spent a lot of time with Heather. She was my assistant. She was in and out of my office constantly, and was a frequent companion on my visits to the building sites. She was the one who kept me on track. I never considered how it might have looked to Anne.

It might not have been an issue, but things had been strained between Anne and I over the last year or two. We both had developed the unfortunate practice of ignoring subjects that would cause arguments. Instead we let them fester. Anne never accused me of cheating on her, but I think she had her suspicions. As for me, I had stopped mentioning Heather to Anne. I didn't want to give her a reason to get mad.

The ironic thing was that I had no interest in Heather. If anything, she was like my little sister. I loved her enthusiasm and energy, but I had very little in common with her, as had been made all too obvious during some of our conversations on long car rides. I'm not going to say I didn't appreciate her beauty, but I didn't dwell on it. Besides, Anne was the only woman that I wanted or needed. I loved Anne and had no desire to find someone else.

Frankly, I thought the guys who ran after the young trophy wives were a bunch of fools. I had some friends from the country club who had dumped their wives only to turn up with a pneumatic doll on their arm and I just shook my head at their stupidity. I couldn't see the point. Even from a distance I could see the mercenary glint in the girls faces as they pumped their sugar daddy for all he was worth.

As for me, I had a full life with Anne. Even though we had our arguments, we had a good partnership. I wasn't worried about her motivations because we both made a good living. We were together because we wanted to be. She was the one I wanted to grow old with.

I finally finished up and sent the revised blueprints off to the contractor around eight. I stretched, and turned off my computer. I walked out of the building with the remainder of the team as we all hurried home to make the most of our shortened evening. By now, I had totally forgotten about Anne's phone call. I just wanted to get home and relax. Luckily, I missed most of the traffic and got home before 9:00.

I was just in time to kiss my 10-year-old daughter Sarah goodnight as she headed up to her room. I peeked in on Lacey, and gave a wave as I saw she was on her phone. I shook my head in disbelief. Twelve years old, and already dependent on her cell phone. I had just made myself a drink, and had settled onto the couch to veg out in front of the TV, when Anne came in and sat down in the loveseat, and looked over towards me.

This was my first clue that relaxation was not on my agenda. Anne usually sat next to me on the couch so we could cuddle. The only time Anne sat in the loveseat was when she had something important to discuss. I sighed to myself and looked over towards her. Her body language was difficult to read. She was obviously nervous about something. But my late return had let her stew for a few hours and so she also exhibited some overtones of anger.

"Bill," she began slowly. "I don't know how to make this any easier, so I'm just going to say it. I want a divorce."

I was stunned. Even though we had had some problems, I had no clue that they had gotten this serious.

"WHAT...?" I sputtered. "You can't be serious. What's going on?"

Anne dropped her eyes and wouldn't look at me. I sat there staring at her. Of course, the first thing that my mind did was to examine my behavior to see what might have caused this. All I could think of was Heather. She must have finally decided that I was cheating on her.

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

Anne sighed. "I'm sorry Bill. My mind is made up. Look, it's nothing you did. We've been drifting apart for years and I think it would be best for both of us if we just moved on with our lives."

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

"Bullshit." I responded heatedly. "Maybe we aren't as close as we used to be, but that's something we could fix if we wanted to. What the fuck is really bothering you Anne. What's going on? Do you think I'm running around on you or something?"

At my words, Anne flushed and twisted her fingers together. Her own guilt was evident in every pore of her body. It was then that I woke up to what was really happening.

'Son of a bitch," I swore softly. "You're the one that's fucking around. You're leaving me for some other guy."

Anne's silence was confirmation of my suspicions. I sat there stunned for a moment wondering what had gone wrong. Never in a million years would I have suspected Anne of cheating. I was confused. A moment ago I had been desperate to save my marriage, now, I didn't know if I wanted to save it. Or if there was anything left to save. All I knew was that I was angry. "Who is it?" I grated out.

"I'm sorry Bill." Anne said softly. "It just happened. It really wasn't anything that you did. He just swept me off my feet and we want to be together . . ."

"WHO IS IT?" I interrupted harshly. I really didn't want to hear her excuses.

"Alan Johnson," she whispered.

Alan Johnson was a loudmouth asshole that worked selling securities for Anne's firm. He had been there about five years. I had met him and his wife a few times at parties, and he was not a person that I cared for. In my opinion he was all flash and no substance. I didn't think that he had a genuine bone in his body.

"Johnson? You're leaving me for that asswipe?" I exclaimed in disbelief. "I don't believe it. Wait... he's married, too. You're destroying his marriage, too?"

Anne stared at me for a moment as her guilt fought with her anger at my crude attack. Finally the anger won out and she responded.

"Yes, Bill," she stated heatedly. "Alan Johnson. He's leaving his wife too and we are going to be together. I'm trying to be civil about this, and not get into an argument, but you won't let me will you? I want a divorce because I FOUND SOMEONE ELSE!"

Anne's words hit home like a slap. My emotional outburst subsided and left a cold calculating rage in its place. Dispassionately, I reviewed my alternatives. If I gave vent to my emotions and raged at her like my monkey brain was demanding, nothing further would be accomplished except to vent. It would be impossible for us to have a meaningful conversation. In the alternative, I could wall myself off and try to approach this as coldly as possible.

It was the mental anguish that forced my decision. I could not stand the emotional pain that her revelations had caused. To function, I needed to wall in all my emotions. The only way I could deal with her was to shut her out. I threw a shell around my anger and looked at her dispassionately.

"Fine. You want a divorce you got it. It will save me the effort of doing it myself."

Anne's reaction to my words was curious. Even though she had done her best to push me away, my willingness to give in stung her. She was more conflicted that she was letting on. I could sense that at some level, she was not totally committed to the path that she was taking.

I sat there musing for a few moments considering her reaction half-listening to Anne as she started to mouth the usual platitudes that are used at a time like this. The bullshit that is spouted by someone trying to "let someone down gently." You know the routine... She didn't mean to hurt me; she still cares for me; still wants us to be friends; all that happy horseshit. I had no interest in hearing it and I don't think either of us really believed a word of it.

So, I kind of zoned off into my own thoughts for a few minutes while I tried to make sense of what had just happened. It was only natural that it took me a moment to come back into focus when she nervously moved on to a new topic. As I mentally reviewed what she had said, I was sure I had missed something important.

"What did you say?" I asked incredulously.

Anne looked at me in exasperation. "I said that we need to figure out what we are going to do. I know I sprung this on you suddenly, so I don't mind if you move into the guest room for a few days while you find a place to live."

I couldn't believe it. Of all the nerve. She fucks around on me and tells me she wants a divorce and expects me to move out. It wasn't going to happen.

"What do you take me for, an idiot? I don't think so." I blurted out. "I'm not going anywhere. Why should I leave? You're the one that's asking for the divorce, not me."

Anne looked stunned. I don't think she expected me to challenge her. "But. . . "

I laughed bitterly, and interrupted her.

"Did you honestly expect me to move out? Tell me, what was your plan?" I mocked. "Was Alan going to move in and take my place?"

Anne's gasp told me that I was close to the mark.

"Like Hell." I grated. "This is my house and no fucking asshole is coming in here to take my place. You want to leave me for him, good riddance. I'm not going to stop you, but I haven't done anything to deserve this and I'm not going to walk away with my tail between my legs. You're the one that fucked up this marriage so you pay the price, not me."

I glared at her. My rage was beginning to resurface.

"Get the fuck out. Go live with your fucking boyfriend for all I care. As far as I'm concerned, you can get the hell out tonight!"

Anne sputtered a moment in shock. "But what about the girls? This is their home."

I shook my head incredulously. "What about the girls? Now you worry about the girls? I bet you thought about them a lot while you've been fucking around on me.

"If I'm not going to allow some asshole to replace me in my house, do you think I'm going to allow you to replace me in their lives? Hell, he has three kids of his own that he just walked out on. I'm not going to allow him anywhere near my kids."

I stared over at Annie and told her in cold deliberate tone. "If you want to take off with your lover, go, there's the door. But the kids stay here with me. You can visit them whenever you want, and maybe you can explain why you destroyed this marriage. I'll never stop you from seeing the kids, but I'm warning you, keep that asshole away from them.

"Tell you what Annie; I'll give you a choice, just like you wanted to give me. You're welcome to the guestroom if you want to stay here with the kids while we bring this train wreck to a conclusion. But it's not going to hurt me in the slightest bit if you get out of my life right now. Make no doubt about it. I'll be damned if I'm going to let you push me out of my house, or away from my kids."

That was the end of coherent conversation. She responded angrily and we quickly degenerated into accusations, yelling, arguing and name-calling. I was pissed. I couldn't believe that Anne thought so little of me that she could try to walk all over me like that.

I don't know where it would have ended up if Lacey hadn't come downstairs to find out what was going on. Seeing her in the doorway horrified at the scene of her parents engaged in a knock down screaming argument was enough to throw cold water on both Anne and I.

I like to think that we were good parents. One look at Lacey was enough to shift our focus. Regardless of our problems, one thing we could still agree on was a desire to avoid putting the kids into the middle of our own private battleground.

The only way to break up my fight with Anne was to get away from her. So with a mumbled comment to Anne about finishing this later, I went over to Lacey and asked her to come upstairs with me so we could talk. If the girls were going to stay with me, it was up to me to break the news. I didn't trust Anne not to tell them that they were moving out with her.

Besides, I knew that the news was going to hit them hard. I wanted to tell them about the impending divorce as gently as I could. I led her upstairs and saw Sarah cautiously peek her head out of her bedroom door. She obviously had heard our screaming as well. I waved her over to join us as we went into Lacey's bedroom.

I'm not going to go into details on that conversation. Suffice it to say that it was painful for all of us. I tried to walk a fine line. Despite my anger and harsh words downstairs, I knew that the girls needed both parents to love them, so I tried hard not to demonize Anne.

I'm sure my anger at her slipped out at times, but I purposefully avoided any discussion of exactly what caused the problem. There was plenty of time to discuss what happened at a future date. The last thing the girls needed at this time was to be forced to choose sides. So, when they pressed for details, I merely told them that Anne and I were having problems we couldn't fix and were going to get a divorce. I tried hard to emphasis that they were not the cause of the problems and that we both still loved them.

The girls took the news badly, just as I had expected. It was a shock to all of us. None of us had seen it coming. When Lacey pressed me for reasons, I had to shake my head in confusion. I really didn't want to tell the girls that Anne had found someone else. I just let it go with a comment that I was upset and as confused as they were.