The mover wiped the sweat from his forehead and gestured toward Elaine's walk-in closet—the rows of limited-edition handbags, the jewelry cases lined up like a showroom display.
Starting around last year, Henry had begun buying Elaine things under the guise of work. Most of it was high-end luxury goods.
That was what had fueled the rumors at the company.
I'd brought it up with Elaine. More than once.
At first, she'd still bother to explain. "It's nothing like that. Mr. Gray just wants me to look presentable for client meetings."
"Charles, stop overthinking."
But the gifts kept coming, more and more, and eventually I stopped asking.
Sometimes, people are too afraid to get close to the truth.
And my cowardice was laid bare the moment the truth found me anyway.
"It's fine. Pack them however you want. You won't be held responsible."
I waved them off, went back to the bedroom, and finished packing my own things. Then I handed the movers Henry Gray's address.
"Next week, deliver all of that to this address. When you get there, call this number."
Elaine was staying at Henry's place. I knew because of a social media post with a location tag.
Thanks, boss, for giving me the time off.