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How could you? There are two sides to every Story.

Assume for a moment that you are a soccer player earning a lot of money. As in all things 'footie' normal reality is suspended. It is a unique business in that it's customers do not see it as a mere provider of goods and services but some sort of Holy Grail. Suppose I like Austin Reed suits. Do I go and stand outside Jaeger yelling foul abuse at their staff? Prefer Burger King to MacDonalds? Let's
get down to Maccy Ds, 100 handed, and sing "You're sh*t, and you know you are." at the hapless lads working their tails off behind the grill. And what about soccer management? Why would you? Lehmans boss got a little taster (and didn't look like he liked it much), but by and large if you are CEO of a poorly performing Company, you don't get large groups of idiots standing outside the gates to your home, questioning the proclivity of your wife to engage in anal sex. No, your share price might well get hammered, but it's not usually that personal.

So you are working in a very unusual business. You keep a pretty low profile, generally get on with your work and try to keep your private life private. You are quite successful and seem to deal rather well with the torrent of abuse you
receive every time you go to work from the assembled 50,000 highly educated (according to the government the UK education system is "World Class") customers of your employer. You don't go out much after work for obvious reasons.

You are introduced to a woman who was working in another lunatic industry, that of 'showbusiness'. As usual in that business she is rather easy on the eye, and
there seems to be a mutual attraction so you start seeing a bit more of each other. She comes from an area of the Country not reknowned for it's tolerance of anything non male that doesn't make it's living going down dark holes and hacking coal, or playing football (badly) in a black and white striped shirt. She want's to get out of there. Her career at this stage is very much in it's infancy and she
might well look at you, as indeed thousands of other young ladies do, as a pretty good catch for a husband.
The lady has a conviction for assault in a nightclub toilet, following an bit of an altercation of the "Do you know who i am!" variety with the loo attendent. Classy. You give her the benfit of the doubt.
As time passes your wife's 'career' continues to grow from 'strength' to 'strength' , She gets a job on a 'talent' show that showcases (at least in it's initial stages) desperate people who will do anything to try and escape their humdrum existence, even if that means being made to look very stupid on national TV.
The show is a runaway success, with 20 million Morons, sorry, I mean highly
educated products of the best education system in the World, tuning in on Saturday evenings. Your Wife is herself an earlier product of one of these types of 'show' and the public loves her for her kind words to the hapless victims, as she plays the 'good guy' to the 'bad guy' that gives them a proper kicking whilst they are down. Really nice Guy him.

Your wife is lucky. Plenty of the issuance of these 'shows' soon returns to obscurity. Capitalising on her luck, she dumps her fellow band members and
goes 'solo'. Shirley Bassey she ain't, but that doesn't matter to her adoring public, one half of which loves her for her looks and the other half because they feel sorry for her married to a rat like you.
By this time your marriage is a sham. You are on a hiding to nothing. Half the population hates you because you are a rat, and 90% of the other half hates you because you work in the 'wrong' shop.
You have been comprehensively outmanouvered which is hardly surprising given the publicity juggernaut behind your wife. She has even taken you back once, very publicly, which has futher widened the chasm of public opinion. You decide you might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.

Beware the beauty of the beast it may not have a matching personality.