Chapter 4 - The Evidence They Thought Was Deleted
Two days later, Daniel came home.
I was sitting at the dining table.
A folder rested in front of me.
He stopped inside the doorway.
“You changed the alarm code.”
“Yes.”
“I live here.”
“Temporarily.”
His face hardened.
“Don’t play games.”
“This isn’t a game.”
He dropped his keys onto the table.
“Where are my things?”
“Guest room.”
“You moved my clothes?”
“Yes.”
“Emma, we can fix this.”
I looked at him.
“You were sleeping with my sister.”
“It wasn’t like that at first.”
“Wonderful. Start at the beginning.”
He pulled out a chair.
“I was helping her.”
“With what?”
“She was overwhelmed.”
“By motherhood?”
“By everything.”
“So you took her to St. Lucia.”
“That wasn’t the plan.”
I opened the folder.
“Interesting, because the trip was booked three months ago.”
Daniel’s expression shifted.
I pushed the reservation toward him.
“Want another try?”
He looked down.
“It started about six months ago.”
“How?”
“She called me one night after you criticized her.”
“I criticized her?”
“You told her she needed to attend Sofia’s cardiology appointments.”
“Yes.”
“She felt attacked.”
“She felt attacked by medical responsibility?”
“She was struggling.”
I leaned back.
“So you comforted her.”
“Yes.”
“In bed?”
“Eventually.”
I nodded.
“How many times?”
“Emma…”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“That means enough that counting became inconvenient.”
He rubbed his face.
“I never intended to hurt you.”
“People always say that after spending months making decisions designed to hurt someone.”
He looked at the folder.
“What do you want?”
There.
Finally.
Not remorse.
Negotiation.
“I want you out.”
“I own half this house.”
“Actually, according to the postnuptial agreement you signed after we refinanced, you waived any claim to my premarital equity.”
His face tightened.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“I know exactly what it means.”
“You’re not a divorce attorney.”
“No. I’m the woman who reads contracts before signing them.”
He stared at me.
“What else?”
I slid another page forward.
His credit-card transactions.
“Fourteen thousand dollars.”
“For what?”
“Your affair.”
“It wasn’t fourteen.”
“Flights. Hotel. Gifts. Restaurants. Cash withdrawals. The jewelry you bought Vanessa in May.”
Daniel went still.
“You checked my statements.”
“Our statements.”
“That’s invasive.”
I laughed.
“Adultery apparently gave you strong opinions about privacy.”
He stood.
“I’m not going to sit here while you interrogate me.”
“Then don’t.”
He headed toward the stairs.
I spoke without raising my voice.
“Before you pack, you should know I found the transfer.”
He stopped.
“What transfer?”
“Twenty-five thousand dollars from our joint investment account into an LLC.”
He slowly turned.
“That was business.”
“Palm Shore Consulting?”
“Yes.”
“Registered to Vanessa?”
Silence.
I continued.
“You financed her lifestyle with marital assets.”
“She was starting a business.”
“What business?”
“She had ideas.”
“I’m sure.”
“You’re twisting this.”
“No, Daniel. I’m tracing it.”
He returned to the table.
“You cannot use confidential financial information against me.”
“Confidential from whom? I’m the account holder.”
His face flushed.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth.”
“You already decided what the truth is.”
“Then surprise me.”
He stared at me for a long moment.
“I love her.”
It hurt.
Of course it did.
But it did not break me.
I nodded.
“Thank you.”
His expression changed.
“That’s it?”
“That’s what I needed.”
“For what?”
“Clarity.”
I stood.
“You’ll hear from my attorney.”
“Emma.”
“And Daniel?”
“What?”
“Vanessa thinks you’re going to leave this marriage wealthy.”
He said nothing.
“She hasn’t seen the numbers.”
“What numbers?”
“Your debt.”
His face drained.
May you like
I smiled faintly.
“You hid that from her too, didn’t you?”
