Chapter 7 - THE FILE ON EMILY
The investigator’s report contained eighty-three pages.
Emily read only twelve.
She couldn’t continue.
Photographs of her leaving prenatal appointments.
Photographs of her visiting her father.
Photographs of her buying groceries.
Photographs outside her old elementary school, where she still volunteered twice a month.
Dates.
Times.
Names.
Even notes about Raymond.
Preston had been watching her.
Emily placed the file on the hospital tray.
“Why?”
Margaret sat across from her.
“We’re trying to determine that.”
Raymond stood by the window.
Emily looked at him.
“You already have a theory.”
“Yes.”
“Tell me.”
Raymond hesitated.
Emily’s voice sharpened.
“No more protecting me from information about my own life.”
Raymond nodded.
“The investigator was looking for evidence that you were hiding assets.”
Emily stared at him.
“Why?”
“To challenge the prenuptial agreement.”
Emily almost laughed.
“Of course.”
“If Preston could establish financial nondisclosure—”
“He could attack the prenup.”
“Yes.”
“And reach the Saint Claire assets.”
“Potentially.”
Emily looked at the photographs again.
Months of surveillance.
Months of Preston kissing her goodnight while someone he paid followed her the next morning.
The betrayal felt different now.
The affair hurt.
But this was calculated.
This required invoices.
Instructions.
Planning.
“Did the investigator find anything?”
“No.”
“Because there was nothing.”
“I know.”
Emily looked at Margaret.
“Does Preston know you found this?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.”
Raymond frowned.
“Why good?”
Emily pulled the blanket aside.
“Because I want to talk to him.”
“No.”
“Uncle Raymond.”
“You’re being monitored.”
“I’m not leaving the room.”
“That isn’t the issue.”
Emily looked at him.
“I need to hear him lie to me one more time.”
Raymond understood.
Twenty minutes later, Preston entered alone.
His phone had been surrendered to security.
He closed the door.
Emily looked at him.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Preston sighed.
“This has gotten insane.”
Emily almost smiled.
“That’s how you want to start?”
“I’m trying to fix this.”
“Fix what?”
“Our marriage.”
Emily stared at him.
“Who is Vanessa?”
Preston looked annoyed.
“You know who she is.”
“No.”
Emily leaned back.
“I know what she is to me.”
Her eyes stayed on his.
“I want to hear what she is to you.”
Preston looked away.
“A mistake.”
Emily nodded.
“How long?”
“Emily—”
“How long?”
“Five months.”
She knew it was a lie.
The corporate expenses went back eleven months.
Emily nodded again.
“Did you hire someone to follow me?”
Preston froze.
There.
That tiny pause.
Emily saw everything she needed.
“What are you talking about?”
“Wrong answer.”
“Emily.”
She reached toward the tray.
The investigator’s file was underneath a blanket.
Preston couldn’t see it.
She wanted to know how far he would go.
“Did you access my medical records?”
“No.”
Another lie.
“Did you know I had an appointment today?”
“No.”
Another.
“Did you tell Vanessa I would be here?”
“No.”
Another.
Emily felt strangely peaceful.
She had spent months wondering whether she was paranoid.
Whether pregnancy made her emotional.
Whether she was imagining the distance.
Now the truth sat in front of her wearing a navy suit.
Preston leaned forward.
“Emily, I love you.”
She looked at him.
That was the ugliest lie of all.
Then she pulled the investigator’s report from beneath the blanket.
Preston stopped breathing.
May you like
Emily placed it between them.
“I’m filing for divorce.”
