I didn’t respond, my mind calculating our shared assets in silence.
Clayton had loved me once enough to trust me with everything. After six years of marriage, the safe’s password was my birthday, and the bank account number mirrored it.
He had once said, with a look of devotion in his eyes, "Both the money and I belong to you, Irene."
He had sworn, his voice thick with emotion, "If I ever do anything to hurt you, Irene, let me leave with nothing and die an untimely death."
Those vows, spoken in earnest, had probably slipped from his memory long ago.
But I remembered every word.
I packed the videos Matias had sent me, the ones exposing Clayton’s infidelities, and sent them off to my lawyer.
Of course, I didn’t forget the evidence I’d painstakingly gathered from Odessa’s WhatsApp, staying up all night to piece it together.
As soon as I closed my laptop, I felt him, Clayton, wrap his arms around me from behind.
"Irene, I missed you so much.”
He brought the chill of the outside with him. And though he tried to hide it, a faint trace of another woman’s scent lingered on him.
I silently pushed him away. "Wasn’t your business trip supposed to last three days? Why are you back so soon?"