"I don't want to hear it, Linz," he told her, fighting off the waves of dizziness that were threatening to make his legs give out from under him. "I might be sick but I'm sure as hell not delirious, so there's no way I just imagined what I saw. And you can protest and whine and deny your life away, but it's been obvious to me for a long time now that you've been humping every hot young stud who crosses your path. Unfortunately for you, your nerdy, naïve husband wasn't born yesterday after all. I've had a private detective trailing you for almost two years now, and even he was shocked by how much action you've been getting. So don't bother lying, because you'll just make a fool of yourself, hmm?"
Lindsey's green eyes were practically spitting fire at the revelation that her amorous activities hadn't been nearly as secret as she'd assured herself. "I wouldn't have to look for action as you so crudely put it," she spat, stepping into a towering pair of red Louboutin stilettos, "if you were at home more than a few hours a week. You might as well be married to your fucking job, Matt, considering how little the kids and I see of you these days."
Matthew felt the room spin sickeningly around him, the sensation almost as bad as the churning in his stomach. He slapped a hand against the door jamb to hold himself upright, and just hoped he wouldn't pass out - or throw up - before he could toss Lindsey out of here on those ridiculously high heels. "I'm too sick - and way too disgusted with you - right now to have this conversation," he replied wearily. "Except to say that I warned you about all of this - many, many times - when you pushed and coerced and begged me to take the company public. You knew what you were getting into, Lindsey, so don't use my job as an excuse for why you can't keep your legs closed. Now, would you please leave? I really am sick and I need to take a nap. Which is going to have to be in one of the guest rooms now, since there's no way I'm ever sleeping in this bed again."
"Fine," she acquiesced huffily. "Take your stupid nap. We'll talk when you get home tonight."
He shook his head. "I won't be coming home. Not tonight or any other night. This is it, Linz. I've held on as long as I could because of the kids, but I just realized I can't take any more of your antics. Our marriage has been over for a good long time, and I'm finally ready to deal with that. I'll be calling my lawyer just as soon as I get a few hours sleep. In the meanwhile, I suggest you get your own lawyer so we can hash all this out as quickly as possible. I'll call the kids tonight or tomorrow at the latest to break the news. Or if I'm feeling better I'll arrange to pick them both up from school tomorrow and tell them face to face."
Lindsey stared at him in horror. "You can't be serious," she whispered huskily. "Come on, Matt, it was just a harmless little fling. Nothing to get all upset over. And definitely nothing important enough to start talking about a divorce over."
He sighed tiredly, running a hand through his sweat dampened hair. In addition to the fatigue, dizziness, and nausea that had been plaguing him all morning, he was pretty sure he was also running a fever. His PA - a stern but frighteningly organized woman named Elena Ordenes - had nagged him all morning about going home or seeing the doctor - not necessarily in that order. In the end, he'd acquiesced to her orders, and agreed to nap for a few hours in the company-owned condo located just two short blocks from the office. What he certainly hadn't anticipated was that Lindsey would be using the place for one of her sordid little assignations.
But her ill-advised little "afternoon delight" was proving to be the catalyst Matthew had needed for a long time now to make some much-needed changes in his life - a life that he hadn't been happy in for long months, if not years. And for once he wasn't going to let her pleas and tears and empty promises sway a decision he should have made a long time ago.
"Actually, I've been thinking about filing for divorce for awhile now," he admitted. "Even before I knew for sure that you were fucking every hot young stud you could coerce into your bed. And you do like them young, don't you, Linz? At least Jesse's closer to thirty, not like that college football player you banged last month. Jesus, you're old enough to be his mother."
Lindsey opened her mouth to protest, before giving a resigned little shrug. "I've got a problem," she acknowledged in a small voice. "I probably need counseling. We need counseling, Matt. So before you even start mentioning the word divorce we should definitely see a marriage counselor. I'm sure after just a few sessions it will all work out. In fact, I can ask Holly for the name of the person she and Phil saw when they were having problems last year. She swore the sessions did wonders for them, that their marriage is better than ever, and I know it can be the same for us. In fact, let me call her right now and - "