Chapter 15

"Bill, Tex is here," Vera announced.

"Send him in." Bill pushed his papers aside and waited as the big man strode in and sat in the large chair across from him. He could tell from his body language that the news wouldn't be good.

"OK, Tex. Give it to me straight."

"I'm sorry, Bill. I wish it wasn't so, but I'm afraid Marion is involved with another man."

Bill closed his eyes and willed away the pain that washed over him. "Who is he?"

"His name is Mark Dreesen and he's, get this, 24 years old. He is a part-time massage therapist, but recently his license lapsed. I have some more stuff coming, but he's nobody special." Tex had relayed the information in his usual matter-of-fact tone. It was just another report, except this one was personal.

"Do we know how long it's been going on?"

"Not yet, but I should have something tomorrow on that and more on this guy's background."

"Where have they been meeting?"

"Not sure, but yesterday, they were at the Marriot. She paid."

"I guess I should be grateful that it wasn't our home," Bill said sullenly.

"Well, I hope for your sake, it never was. That would be hard to swallow."

"Thanks, Tex. Now, I guess I have to decide what to do about it."

"Good Luck, Bill. I'll see you tomorrow if I get the information we're looking for."

Once again, the security chief made his way out of Bill's office.

As he drove home, Bill was sure of one thing. He needed to get this over with. He needed to confront Marion and find out if their marriage was salvageable. He was still at a loss to know what would make her so unhappy that she would seek another man for comfort and sex. He just couldn't get his mind around it.

Their supper meal was normal with the usual chatter from the kids and Marion about their activities of the day and their plans for tomorrow. Bill couldn't detect any difference in his wife, and yet he knew that she held a devastating secret that he would expose tonight. It was just a matter of when he would choose to talk to her. Finally, he decided he would do it after the children were in bed.

A little after nine that evening, Bill walked into the living room where Marion was watching television.

"Marion, would you please turn the TV off. I need to talk to you."

Marion looked at him with surprise and just a flicker of fear in her eyes. Bill saw neither as he concentrated on how he would begin the conversation. Marion picked up the remote control and turned off the TV.

"What do you want to talk about, Bill?" Her voice was tentative and uncertain.

He sat in the big armchair across from her. He looked at the beautiful woman who had been his wife and the mother of his children. He wondered if he would be able to say that when this was over with.

"Marion ... I'm aware of your affair with Mark Dreesen." He saw the look of shock and the color drain from her face. She was rigid and almost gasping for air.

"What do you mean? What are you talking about?" she finally managed.

"I'm talking about the affair you have been having with a 24 year old man named Mark Dreesen, a part-time massage therapist, I'm told. You met him at the Marriot Hotel yesterday and you spent several hours in room 816. Please don't embarrass yourself by lying about it."

It was like watching the air go out of a balloon. She almost collapsed and the tears and then sobs were not far behind. She put her hands to her face and fell back in the sofa. Bill patiently waited until the sobbing had stopped and she began to show a semblance of composure.

"Are you going to divorce me?" she asked in a meek, shaky voice.

"That depends on you, Marion. I want to know why. I want to know how long this has been going on. I want you to know that I have professional investigators who undoubtedly will dig up the truth. If you lie to me, I will know it and it will be over. Do you understand?"

Marion had nodded her acknowledgement. Her husband's voice had been level and calm, completely without emotion. It was in stark contrast to the turmoil going on inside him.

"Why Marion? Why did you betray me?"

"I don't know, really. He was young and handsome and he thought I was beautiful. I felt good when I was near him. He made me feel young again."

"Is there something I've done to make you feel old, or not beautiful or loved or respected?"

"No ... no Bill. It's not about you. It's me. I'm the one that cheated on you. You've been the perfect husband. I don't have any excuse except my insecurity." The tears were still flowing, but she was managing to be coherent.

"How long have you been seeing him?"

There was silence as she contemplated her answer. Her head was bent, her eyes looking at her hands in her lap.

"Since November."

"What! That's four months. You've been seeing him for four months?" His voice had risen for the first time.

She nodded without looking up.

"How often ... how often did you ... meet with him?" He wasn't sure he wanted to hear her answer.

"Once or twice a week." It was almost whispered.