For the next forty-eight hours, I moved with a cold, calculated precision. I took photos of every message, saved bank statements showing his secret spending, and met with a lawyer named Monica to start the filing process.
We were married under a joint property agreement, so I followed Monica’s advice and moved half of our savings into a private account. Simon checked in on me a few times to make sure I was holding up, but he never overstepped his bounds.
The night Wesley came home, I prepared a full dinner and set the table with our best dishes. I wanted the house to look exactly like the warm, welcoming home he expected so he wouldn’t suspect a thing.
He walked through the door at seven-thirty with his luggage and a smug smile. “It smells amazing in here,” he said while leaning in to kiss my cheek. “I really missed being home.”
The sheer audacity of his lie almost made me laugh out loud. “How was the trip to Seattle?” I asked as I poured him a glass of wine.
He lied with incredible fluency, describing the weather and the meetings with the Miller executives. I let him finish his story before I spoke again.
“I ran into Simon at a cafe the other day,” I said casually.