Friday, September 3, 2010

RE: Bleeding Love

It was a simple trade-off over coffee.
I handed her the envelope, she gave me the rest of the money due.
In the envelope was evidence of her man's betrayal.
That would be 30 years of marriage to the surgeon who provided her with an affluent lifestyle, prestige and facade she was reluctant to give up.
Also, there was an equally important issue she had to deal with.
They'd refinanced their house after an arduous process.
Unbeknown to my client... the spurned wife... some of that  refinance money was spent on a little love nest --  a live-on houseboat her husband co-signed for his trophy girl the day after the refinance funds cleared the bank account.
That could constitute fraud I told her. I made quite a few suggestions... good ones, in my opinion.
The best being divorce and prosecution and/or a civil suit.
She didn't seem to care. She was flat, with a zombie-like affect.
Zero. Zip. Nada.
She had what I have heard described as "the stare of a thousand miles" -- it's a look you see in people who survived unimaginable tragedies. You see them they're staring off into space, lost in a galaxy of thought. Expressionless.
"Are you okay?" I asked as I leaned forward, touched her arm lightly and made strong eye contact,
"No," she said, "I'm bleeding. My heart's bleeding."
I knew she  meant it figuratively, not literally. Still...
"You want me to call 911?" was all I could think to ask.
She shook her head no.
"It's not that kind of bleeding," she said.
There was a pause. A long one. I broke it.
"What now?" I asked. "Divorce?"
Again she shook her head no.
"This isn't the first time... and you're not the first P.I. I've hired" she replied.
" So, I'm just going to keep bleeding until it stops." She got up, shook hands and we parted ways.

I was left wondering... if she ever stopped bleeding.

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