Don't Look Back in Anger

The most interesting part was the attorney said that, technically, it covered my personal life as well as work. He laughed at that, but I knew that part of it was planned and that the family had a compliant judge who would enforce it.

If I failed to stick to the conditions, I would lose everything but the clothes on my back. One of the most interesting things contained in an appendix to the main contract said I even had to give up the certificates for my qualifications, meaning I could not get a job anywhere else in the country.

At the end of the meeting, the attorney asked me to sign the contract. I had to spin something quickly, so I just said, "I better talk to my wife about that, you know she's the CEO, so I better get used to doing what she says!"

The attorney laughed, thinking this was hilarious, before adding, "You will need to get the signature witnessed, but the HR manager can do that. Hope you enjoy the increase in salary!"

The drive home was not as enjoyable as the drive there, but then, all the pieces would be in place for her plan. It appeared simple, too simple. Tie me down in a contract, which was probably unenforceable, but would keep me penniless until I could get her to court. In the meantime, she would try to get me to get her pregnant, meaning I would find it difficult to leave, and by the time the dust had settled, she hoped things would be back to normal.

So, my plan was simple, as well. I had to avoid signing the contract on Tuesday, and if she left on Wednesday morning, I would resign and move out, taking everything I needed, including my credentials to ensure I could get another job on a commensurate salary.

The question of where to go answered itself, when I stopped for a coffee halfway home. While buying the coffee, I saw a newspaper with an article about a new engineering business that opened in that town. I recognised the name and realised it was headquartered in a large industrial complex in a city several hundred miles away in another state. The city was much larger than where we currently lived, and there were several large and numerous small businesses that used industrial-flow processing for their production, and could therefore use my skills. I could easily get a job there. And just like that, the plan was set. I had all my bases covered; well, as best as I could until Wednesday.

I made a point of arriving home as late as possible. I needed to avoid the subject of the contract, and the lack of my signature on it. So I stopped about thirty miles from home to get some dinner. It was only four-thirty when I stopped, so I could have easily made it home. I hung around until five o'clock, then phoned Cathy, knowing she would be unlikely to answer the phone. Every Monday, she had an end-of-day meeting with the sales manager, to review last week's orders and compare them to forecasts to see which customers were up or down on expected demand. That enabled me to leave a message that I would not be home due to a delay on the road. I gave her a location which had no cell phone coverage, meaning I could switch my phone off and ignore her for a few hours. After leaving the message, I went to the cinema.

The film finished at eight, and I switched my cell off airplane mode and there were several messages from Cathy. I phoned her and her response was clearly one of irritation.

"Where are you?"

I smiled, a little battle won. "Just pulled into Marvik. The road was terrible, they were doing roadwork and must have messed up, the traffic was so slow I spent an hour sitting in the one place."

"Why didn't you call me?" she whined

"I did, but it went straight to voicemail. After that, I was stuck in that black hole where there is no coverage. I have only got it back. I am tired and hungry. I need to get some food and coffee, or I will be asleep at the wheel. I'll see you about ten-thirty".

I quickly hung up as I heard her asking about the contract and if it had been returned to the HR department.

I enjoyed dinner, rejecting several calls from Cathy as I ate. I then drove home slowly, eventually arriving home at eleven-fifteen PM.

Cathy was still up, and she looked a little pissed. She stated flatly, "You have been away a long time. I spoke to HR, why have you not returned the signed contract?"

I didn't even miss a beat, I just kept on walking, saying, "I'm too tired to think about the whole contract tonight. I will process it in the morning. Going to bed now,

goodnight."

I went straight up the stairs and into the guest bedroom, where I had been sleeping since Sunday night, locking the door behind me. Cathy was not far behind me and she tried to open the door, as I turned the look.

She banged on the door, and shouted, "You sleeping in the guest room is starting to get old!"

I just said, "Goodnight Cathy, we will discuss it on Wednesday." If she picked up on what I had said, she didn't acknowledge it.

She did shout, "Oh for god's sake!" then stormed to the master bedroom, slamming the door as she went.

Sleep is a funny thing. Sometimes, it comes and other times, it doesn't. This night, I was tired but it wouldn't come.

My mind was racing with what-ifs-- what if she goes? what if she doesn't? what if someone comes to the house and tries to stop me leaving? What do I need to leave with? What happens if I take the car, as it technically belongs to her? How long will it take me to pack...?

The list was endless, and I needed to start planning. Two old adages came to mind. 'Hope for the best and be prepared for the worst.' Well, the best was her not going; the worst was her leaving without me. And the second old saying was the 7 Ps-- 'Proper Planning and Preparation Prevents Piss Poor Performance! Well, the next day, I was going to have to plan for a military operation because once my resignation hit the desk of the HR manager, I suspected there was going to be a lot of shit hitting the fan.

The next morning over coffee, in the kitchen, Cathy asked, "Do you want me to take the signed contract into the office?"

Deciding it was a good time to get the fight going, I just said, "Why would I want you to do that?"

"Well," she stammered, slightly taken aback by my tone and my question. "You are not in the main office today, and I thought you would want it in as soon as possible."

"No thanks, I have a lot to think about first. Anyone would think you were trying to pressure me into something which is very much against my interests, and you are hoping I'm too stupid to think about it." I said this, while looking her straight in the face. My gaze was neither pleasant nor loving.

She rapidly looked away, before adding, "Okay, you do what you need to, but we need it in place before Friday."

First job done. She would not pressure me into signing the contract, knowing I would use it as leverage against her. I could read my wife like a book when I put my mind to it. With that exchange, a rather deflated Cathy left the house for work, leaving me drinking coffee at the kitchen table.

Knowing I was not expected into the office on Tuesday gave me a full day to work on my exit strategy. First issue was the car. A quick check of the registration, and sure enough, it was in her name, not mine. That meant not only could she track it, but I could be hauled back here on a charge of theft and from there, I would have two choices-- stay at this house, or the county jail. To be honest, both sounded unpleasant.

Next, was my stuff. I had clothes, shoes, computers, other electronic gear and papers including tax returns, qualifications and credentials for my ability to work. Finally, there was the money. We both had separate accounts for savings and investments. When we married, we had a prenup that separated our finances. I had a pension and an investment account. Her dad and the company paid into both, so I had a pension that was okay, but a personal investment account of over 250 thousand dollars. It was for our retirement, but the prenup gave me full control over this. I knew Cathy's was worth over a million dollars, but I didn't want or need any of it. I suspected it was done like that in case of a divorce, so I could not lay claim to her share of family funds.

I went to the safe and pulled out my documents. It had everything from my passport right up to my copy of the prenup. I quickly scan-read it and confirmed my control of the investment account, as well as noting that any business assets were outside the scope of the marital assets, even if the business was started during the marriage.

Another point in the prenup that was very interesting, stated that any assets acquired after the date of separation, but before any divorce, would not count towards marital assets. The date of separation was defined as the date on which either party left the marital home with the expressed intention of not returning. Certain actions were considered to indicate that intention, including leaving the employment of Johnston's; taking all personal items, especially clothing, from the marital home; moving more than forty miles; and living in a different property for a period of five years or more. Also the party leaving could post a letter to the marital home, which would contain a proof of posting date and the separation would commence from that date.

The last part of the prenup was also important. If either party filed for divorce within a five-year period, the other party could employ a range of tactics to fight the divorce, including forcing the other party to return to employment in Johnston's, marriage counselling, and even forcing them back into the marital home. Any sexual relationship outside the marriage during the divorce proceedings would be grounds for the forfeiture of all investments. Interestingly, if there were no divorce proceedings, none of these stipulations applied. During the five-year period, the divorce had to be applied for in the court in our local town, but after that period, it could be applied for anywhere for 'irreconcilable differences', but not adultery, and the other party could not fight it.

The next clause was also important. It stated that the five-year clock would restart if the party that left the marriage attempted to reach out to the other party with a view to attempt a reconciliation. The actual act of reconciliation was not important, only the attempt.

The last clause on the prenup was essential. It stated it was signed in front of a judge, which it was, under our own free will, and that both parties agreed to abide fully by its terms and not apply to the court to have it nullified or partly voided in any way.

I found an old briefcase and placed all the documents into it, then placed the briefcase in the back of the garage. Next, I went online to the bank, and transferred the contents of my checking, savings and investment accounts held in a local bank, into my old account which was held in a bank that was out of state. I did not want any attempt to freeze my accounts.

Next was a vehicle I could call my own. I drove back to Marvic, and in a secondhand lot, found a pickup that fitted what I needed. Not very expensive, easy to insure, and it had all its registrations up to date. As long as I got the insurance done properly, I could pay for it and drive it off the lot within minutes. I put down a non-refundable deposit of five hundred dollars.

Finally, I needed a bolt hole, in case things went pear-shaped later or the next day. I reckoned I could handle that night, but if I failed to turn up to work the next day, my guess was I would have office security at the door, looking for me. I didn't want that, so I needed to be away, preferably very early in the morning the next day.

Having finished everything, I went to Target and purchased three large travel bags and returned home. All the papers were already in the garage, so I packed my clothes, shoes, and other personal items. I made a point of being as tidy as possible. I didn't want Cathy noticing what I had moved. It was actually easier than it sounded, as I always was quite tidy, so all I had to do was to make sure all the empty drawers and cupboards were tightly closed. I carried everything out to the garage, placing the bags in the back, where they could not be seen. All that was left was my personal laptop and iPad. I was not going to take my cell phone because it belonged to the company, and I wanted a new number that no one around her knew.

First, I typed the separation letter, printed it off, and signed it. Then I printed an envelope, addressing it to Cathy at this address, then packed the laptop and iPad into the carrying bag I used when I took them off-site and left them sitting on the desk. Cathy might notice they were packed up, but would not consider it unusual. I placed the envelope in the bag, as well. With preparations done, I would be able to leave the house in short order.

Cathy came home at around six o'clock, which was very early for her. She was clearly in a good mood, but was also showing a few nerves; like she was determined to do something, but was still unsure of the outcome.

When she came inside, her first question was, "HR said you didn't return the contract yet."

So, she was checking up on me. Was this derailing her game plan or was she going to brazen it out?

"Nope, not signed yet. As I said last night, I will sign it in your presence tomorrow night."

There it was-- I laid it straight on the line. Would she pick up the hidden message? It was clear I would sign it in her presence tomorrow, but if she was not there, then the clear implication was I would not sign it.

She missed it, or she pretended to miss it. "You know we fly to New York tomorrow, so you will have to sign it in the office. The HR manager will be in your office at nine AM to collect it."

I didn't say anything; I just walked out of the kitchen and up to the guest room. She apparently was going, and she thought I had no choice.

About an hour later, she tried the door. It was locked. She banged on the door, and said, "Dinner's ready."

I didn't respond, nor move.

Five minutes later, she messaged me, saying, 'dinners getting cold'

Again, I ignored it.

Eventually, she came back up the stairs, and shouted, "What is wrong with you! I'm getting fed up with this. Your dinner's in the oven, if you are too childish to sleep in our bed, will you at least have the decency to wish me well on the biggest adventure of my life."

Did she honestly understand what she said? She obviously meant going to the stock exchange and ringing the bell, but in my mind, it was going to have sex with Ken, the Shark. If she had wanted to find a better way to kill the vestiges of love I had left for her, it would have been a hard push.

I lay in bed and listened as she went to the storage room and obviously retrieved a suitcase, then went into the master bedroom, which had a dressing room with all her clothes in it, and began to pack. I felt a single tear run down my cheek as I realised I was listening to the final act of our marriage and what was worse, she didn't even recognise it.

I turned the light and TV off and got into bed, but once again, sleep eluded me for most of the night.

I heard Cathy up early the next morning and decided I might as well say goodbye for the last time; certainly for the last time as husband and wife. When I entered the kitchen, I nearly fell over her large suitcase.

I looked at it, and then at her, before quietly stating, "I see you chose option three. That's a shame, we could have been good together. Oh well, not meant to be. I hope you have many happy memories from your trip."

She walked over to me with her arms held out, and said, "Oh come, my little soldier, in a few days we will be making babies and our life will be long and fulfilling."

I stepped behind her suitcase meaning she could not reach me, and responded, "It saddens me to think you have such little respect for me, that you think I can accept something like this. There will be no future, no babies and no long life into the future. I hope you find happiness with your money, because there will be none in it for me. Goodbye Cathy, I did love you, but I think this little display of disrespect and humiliation has successfully killed it. Enjoy your weekend and the rest of your life."

I quickly turned and headed up the stairs to the guest room. A rapid change and back down the stairs, collecting the car keys as I passed the rack on which they were kept. Cathy was on the phone as I entered the kitchen.

I heard her say, "He's here now," then she handed me the phone, saying, "Dad wants to speak to you."

I just looked at the phone, and without a word, walked out and drove away. I figured I had about fifteen minutes until all hell broke loose. I was wrong by five minutes. I had parked in an unused lot on a side road near the house, and returned to a vantage point in another lot to watch the comings and goings.

Her dad arrived first, followed rapidly by another car, which was driven by the HR manager. I suspected my cell was ringing off the hook, but I had left it on silent in the guest bathroom. Constantly ringing me would stop them sending out a search party. I walked to the bus stop and took a bus to Marvik. I completed the purchase of the truck and started the insurance, using a disposable cell phone I had bought the day before. Less than fifteen minutes after arriving, I had driven off the lot.

I drove back home and dialed into the home security system to see whose car was at the house. Only the HR manager's. So I guess they went to New York after all.

The house had a main entrance, but on the land, there was a back entrance, only accessible by a tractor or four-wheel-drive vehicle. My new truck had four wheel drive, so I entered that way. I was able to get close to the house without being seen. From there, I entered the garage, lifting all my clothes and documents. I wanted the laptop, but it was not essential, as everything was sorted on the cloud. I checked around the house. The HR manager and one of the security team were in the kitchen. I entered the house through a side door into the office, picked up the laptop bag and exited. I think they heard me, but did not actively check as, as far as they were concerned, no one had come into the yard, so no one was in the house.

I exited the property the way I came in and turned southwest, heading to my new home having first posted the letter to Cathy and ensuring I had all the proof of posting I needed. That way, the five-year clock was up and running. After posting the letter, I used the laptop to log on to my work email and sent a letter of resignation to the HR manager, along with a request to use all my accrued holidays to cover my notice period.

It took me three days to drive to my new location. Along the way, I stopped and did some research. First, I looked for a property. I made one call to a real estate agent who had a fully furnished one-bedroom apartment ready to go. I knew the area from past visits and said yes immediately. Several taps on the computer, and I had the deposit and first month's rent paid. The keys would be ready to pick up at the security desk in the complex upon arrival.

The next step was a job. The first night, I trawled the local employment agencies and company websites, but found nothing that was suitable for me. Quite by accident, I found a website for a local business looking for contractors to do fixed-term contracts or provide consultancy on specific projects. I saw four that looked ideal for me. I could not complete the site registration until I had a new cell number. I wanted a local one, not the disposable one I had purchased, so I waited until I arrived before completing the registration and submitting the applications.

Surprisingly, I actually won three of the four tenders and Potts Process Flow Consultancy was born. I had more than enough work to keep me going for a year, so I rented an office and hired a secretary. Within three months, I had employed another process-flow engineer. We were getting work from chemical businesses, food processors, and even a few manufacturing and engineering plants, who could see how our talents could be used to improve their production techniques.