FanStory.com - The Dilemmaby Terry Broxson

On June 10, 2022, we would celebrate our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Elodie wanted a fun party with her family and friends. I wanted whatever Elodie wanted.

We booked the Circle W Rocking Ranch. It doubled as a party venue and a dude ranch. The hundred or so guests would not be a problem. We didn't reserve any horses. Elodie didn't ride or like horses. But the western theme of the venue would serve our purposes, and the country band with guest star Lyle Lovett would provide some excellent entertainment for toe-tappers and dancers.

Meeting when we were twenty-eight and marrying at thirty seemed like destiny to us. We both had been married and divorced. There were no kids. A few friends thought we were selfish for not wanting kids. Maybe we were, but we had plans for the future.

When we married, Elodie worked as a manager for the Vice-President of Research for an investment banking firm headquartered in Dallas. On our tenth anniversary, she became the Vice-President. She told me recently she wanted five more years before retiring.

After I graduated college, I began a career as a computer programmer. By the time I met Elodie, I had a consulting job with Electronic Data Systems specializing in medical care. On our fifth anniversary, I started a consulting group. It grew to twenty-five employees. I no longer programmed or did much of the marketing.

If Elodie wanted to retire in five years, I thought maybe I could get my company in shape to sell to a larger firm. We would be sixty. I planned to discuss the plan with her after the big party.

I had one other surprise. When we married, we gave each other simple gold bands as wedding rings. She didn't get an engagement ring. I told her, let's wait and see how this thing turns out.

I planned on surprising her with a five-and-a-half-carat diamond ring at the anniversary party. I thought Elodie would be thrilled, particularly in front of her family and friends. Elodie liked that kind of fanfare. I knew how to provide fanfare.

We had a good life. No kids meant fewer obligations than others we knew. We had a custom-built house in the burbs, drove nice lease cars, and traveled. My business required me to travel a great deal to get it up and going. But, in the last five years, I didn't have to go places as much. I happily stayed home.

Elodie's job didn't require travel very often. She enjoyed visiting new places, seeing new things, and learning about new cultures. Not me; I was tired of travel. I had no desire to travel outside of the states. The language barrier and getting around frustrated me.

Fortunately, Elodie had a couple of single friends who wanted to and could afford to travel. So they did the foreign gigs to Europe and South America, and she went to Mexico for the last five or six years. Mexico had become her favorite destination. She said she loved the people, food, sights, and history.

I had been to Mexico once. I had eaten or drunk the wrong thing and was very sick. I vowed never to go back. I kept that vow.

Elodie and her friend Theresa traveled to Mexico every five or six months in the last few years. She was usually gone for a week. My job was to take her to the airport and pick her up. I was happy to be the chauffeur. It saved a hundred bucks or so in expenses. I was always glad to see her.

In early May, a few weeks before our anniversary party. The ladies were headed somewhere; honestly, I did not pay any attention.

"El, before I take you to the airport, can you get me your keys for the Lexus? The lease is up, and I need to turn it in while you are gone."

"I don't know where they are. I never drive your car, probably in the catch-all drawer in the kitchen. Are you getting another Lexus?"

"It is going to be an SUV this time. I will look for the keys later. We better go."

After dropping her at the airport, I came home and tried to find the keys. They were not in the kitchen. I looked in all the places I thought made sense. I couldn't find them. I decided to think like Elodie. "Where would she keep keys?"

She would keep them in her purse. But I had the car on a three-year lease. Elodie probably used half a dozen bags or more during that time, and she was right. She never drove my car. I had an idea.

Elodie never throws anything away. In her master closet, she has maybe twenty or so handbags. I found the keys in the sixth bag. In the fifth bag, I found the letters from Ruben.

The fifth bag was large. There were lots of letters from Ruben. Handwritten, some in Spanish, some in English. All were mailed from Mexico, dating back four years or so. I didn't understand the words of Spanish. But the meaning of the English was clear.

These were love letters.

Did you ever see something and instantly know you didn't want to see it but wanted to know every detail anyway? The envelopes were addressed to Elodie at a post office box. I didn't know she had a post office box. Truth be told, I didn't care about the post office box.

I had a week until she came back home. I would probably know every line of the English letters by then. Why would I do that? I didn't learn anything about Ruben. I didn't like what I did learn.

We were planning a big party for a milestone anniversary in four weeks, and I didn't know what to do about it.

I thought I might need a divorce lawyer. I called Harold Preston. Harold's law firm represented my company for our legal needs. Harold said, "Call David Perrini; he does divorces. He is a good guy and only represents men."

I did talk to David. I told him what I had found.

David asked me, "Frank, do you want a divorce?"

"I don't know."

David's advice was simple, "Make a copy of the letters and put them in a safe place. It would be best if you talked to your wife when she gets home from Mexico. If you decide you want to go forward, we will get together and develop a plan. There is no fee at this point."

He sounded fair to me.

I picked up Elodie at the airport as usual. I didn't notice anything different, but everything was different. We arrived home in the late afternoon. I took her bags into the master dressing room like I always did. She poured a glass of wine and went into the backyard to see her plants and sit in the gazebo.

I poured some bourbon over ice and joined her.

"I need to ask you about Ruben."

El's face drained of color. She held her wine glass as if it were suspended in air, knowing she wanted to sip it, but couldn't get it to her mouth.

"A man I met some time ago. He has become like the movie 'Same Time, Next Year' thing."

"What the Ellen Burstyn and Alan Alda movie?"

"Yeah, it is...oh hell, I don't know what kind of a thing it is. I don't love him. I love you."

"That's a funny way to show it. I want you to tell me about Ruben."

"Frank, I'm sorry. He is a married man who doesn't love his wife and is not close to his grown kids. He is a history professor at a university."

"If I remember the movie right, Ellen and Alan met once a year to have an annual affair. But you were going to Mexico every five months or so."

"Frank, it did get out of hand. This trip was my last. I told him it was over. I couldn't go to our anniversary party with any other thoughts."

"El, that sounds convenient. Maybe we cancel the party. Figure out what we are going to do."

I got up and went back into the house. Elodie stayed in the gazebo for an hour. When she came in, she found me sitting in the bar drinking more bourbon.

"Frank, I don't want to give up on the marriage. We have worked too hard to achieve a certain level of success. It would cost us too much to quit now. Let me show you I mean it. I don't want to give up the party either. Please!"

At fifty-five, Elodie was still a remarkably beautiful and sexy woman. I knew what Ruben saw. I saw the same thing. That first night back home, she wanted to make love to me. But it didn't happen. I said something like maybe later.

***

The anniversary party was a success. Everybody danced, ate, drank, and congratulated us on twenty-five beautiful years. The diamond ring was a big hit. Elodie was glowing in the attention. When we got home, she said, "The only thing I want to wear now is this diamond. Is it later enough for you?"

I allowed that it was.

On August 18, Elodie said she had to attend a five-day conference in Los Angeles in a couple of weeks. She participated in seminars from time to time. Of course, now I suspected everything. That night I did something I had never done before; I checked her phone. Her trip was to San Miguel de Allende with a reservation at the Rosewood Hotel.

I met and retained David Perrini as my lawyer. I told him, "David, I am still unsure what I want to do. But, I want to know who she meets and anything else you can learn."

I gave him copies of the letters I had saved, her trip's hotel, and flight information. David said he would have an investigator on the plane and develop a detailed report.

Did I feel sleazy? Yes. I also thought I loved her, but I couldn't trust her. I wanted to know more.

Elodie returned from her conference as she referred to it and said she had learned a lot of new things. Apparently, it was essential to keep up to date in the world of investment banking. Or maybe she updated something else.

A day after El's return, I met with David Perrini and his investigator in David's office.

"Frank, I want to introduce Paul Pierce, my investigator who followed Elodie on this trip. He has a lot of information that I think you will find interesting. Paul, I will turn things over to you."

"Thanks, David. Frank, this may not be easy for you to hear, but I have a written report and some good backup material for you and David to digest as you see fit. Elodie met a man named Ruben Gutman. He has been a history professor at a university in San Miguel for twelve years. The two of them spent the first night together in a suite at the Rosewood. I did find out Ruben has been married for almost thirty years."

"I guess she tells part of the truth."

"On the second day, the couple met a colleague of Ruben's named Martine Perez. He too has been a professor at the same university for several years. Martine never married. Martine wrote the letters in Spanish you gave us."

"I really didn't look at the Spanish letters very closely since I couldn't read them."

"Frank, Martine joined Elodie and Ruben in the suite for three days."

"I don't get it. What are you saying?"

"They have been a threesome for almost five years. Martine's letters were explicit and detailed. I have provided a translation. I was able to get some video from Martine's laptop. He was very careless."

I am sitting in my bar drinking bourbon. I am waiting for El to get home. Do I feel sorry for myself? Should I have paid her more attention? Do I still love her? Am I finished with her? What do I do about Ruben and Martine?

It's a dilemma.